Читать книгу Twin Blessings and Toward Home: Twin Blessings / Toward Home - Carolyne Aarsen - Страница 11

Logan watched as the girls dawdled up the hill toward them. He was about to call to them when they suddenly turned and ran to the visitors’ center. He started off after them.

“What are they doing?” he heard Sandra ask as she caught up to him.

Logan knew all too well what they were up to and decided it would be better if everything was out in the open.

“My dear nieces can’t stand the idea that I don’t currently have a girlfriend,” he said dryly, glancing at her. “They’re avoiding us because they have grand visions of playing matchmaker.”

Sandra laughed.

To his chagrin, Logan felt deflated at her reaction. “What can I say,” he said, wishing he had her quick, glib tongue. “They’re young.”

“Some day they’ll grow up, Logan Napier.”

Logan sighed. “I pray for it daily.”

“Do you?”

He turned, looking fully at her. “Yes. I do.”

Sandra’s gaze flicked sideways then back. “I remember you said that you go to church.”

“Why does that always come out with a faint note of mockery?” he asked as he reached the sidewalk at the bottom of the hill.

“Like I told you before, I’m not a church person.”

“Why not?” He stopped, turning to face her. He wanted to know more about this part of her life. After all, she was teaching his nieces.

“It’s full of hypocrites,” she said airily.

“That’s the oldest excuse in the book.”

Sandra’s dark brown eyes met his, unable to conceal the sparkle that lit at his challenge. “What book?”

“Pardon me?” Logan asked.

“What book is that the oldest excuse in? Is there a book somewhere full of excuses? And if there is, how do you know it’s the oldest one? What if it’s the newest?” Sandra threw out the questions one after the other, a smile curving her lips.

In spite of his exasperation with her, Logan laughed. “I’m not even going to start a battle of words with you,” he said. “But I will challenge your hypocrite comment. You have to admit that using that excuse is pretty lame. There are hypocrites in every organization. Where there are people, there are failings.”

Sandra cocked her head as if thinking. “Okay. I’ll concede that point. Begrudgingly,” she added, pointing a finger at him. “Don’t want to let you off too easy.”

“So why don’t you go to church?” Logan asked.

“I believe in God, Logan. Just in case that’s what you’re really wondering. I just don’t believe that church fills any need of mine. I prefer to worship God in nature.”

Logan felt a stab of disappointment. He didn’t know what he had hoped for, but her answer brushed away some faint hope he had harbored. A hope that didn’t really have anything to do with his nieces’ well-being. “But nature doesn’t tell you of the need for redemption, Sandra,” he replied quietly.

Sandra’s answer was a dismissive shrug.

Right then the girls came out of the building, pretending surprise to see Logan and Sandra.

“Let’s look at the rest of the site,” Sandra said, forestalling any recriminations or feeble explanations.

The girls followed Sandra while Logan lagged behind, listening as she explained the history of Fort Walsh.

“Later, in the nineteen forties, the RCMP purchased this site and set up Remount Ranch to breed and raise their horses. They also raised and trained the horses for the Musical Ride here.”

“I’ve heard of the Musical Ride,” Logan said. “But what exactly is it?”

“A riding display developed from traditional cavalry drills. It’s very impressive. I believe 32 horses and riders are involved.”

“We saw that,” Bethany offered. “In Texas. At a rodeo. It was awesome. Those black horses. And the riders in those neat red coats.”

Logan wasn’t surprised at that. Linda and her husband traveled enough different places, they were bound to have crossed paths at one time or another with the RCMP’s Musical Ride.

The rest of the tour went fast. To her credit, Sandra could tell when the girls’ interest waned, and would quickly move on to the next place. They walked through barracks and living quarters, then took a picture by the flagpole in the center of the fort. Logan operated the camera, smiling as Bethany and Brittany crowded right up beside Sandra.

He looked through the lens and adjusted the zoom lens, bringing the little group in closer. Sandra looked up, smiling, and Logan couldn’t suppress the tug of attraction. Sandra’s open smile suffused her entire being and made him want to laugh along with her.

He snapped the picture, recognizing Sandra’s beauty and at the same time realizing that any man would be attracted to her. And that was all he felt, he reminded himself. Just a basic recognition of her appeal. He didn’t have the time or the inclination to take anything further from there. Not with someone like Sandra.

The drive back was quiet. Both girls slept in the back seat, which meant, Logan thought with a sigh, that they would be awake and giddy for most of the evening. Looked like he wasn’t going to get much done tonight.

Sandra didn’t say much. Just looked ahead, her expression serious. Logan couldn’t help but glance at her once in a while, wondering what she was thinking.

Logan wondered if his comment about church had made the usually loquacious Sandra Bachman retreat into silence. He doubted it. Someone as self-possessed as Sandra wasn’t the kind of person to be intimidated by someone else’s opinion.

But her silence made him feel uncomfortable. As they neared Elkwater, she picked up her knapsack, fiddling with the zippers and buckles.

“Just drop me off at the gas station,” she said as he made the long turn into the town.

“Tell me where you live and I’ll drop you off,” Logan said.

“No. Please. I want to go for a walk. Maybe even a swim,” she said with a forced laugh, pushing her hair from her face.

Logan slowed and stopped at the gas station as she had requested. “Are you sure you don’t want me to bring you to your house?” he asked once again, feeling most unchivalrous.

“No. Thanks. I really want to walk.” She glanced at the girls, who were still sleeping, their cheeks flushed with the heat and the sun. “Say goodbye to the girls. Tell them I’ll see them on Monday.”

Logan nodded, bending over as Sandra got out of the van. She paused, holding on to the door, and glanced at him. “Thanks for driving us to the fort,” she said. “I had a good time.”

“You’re welcome. I learned a lot today,” he said with a quick grin. “Thanks for that.”

“Nice to be able to put my expensive education to some use,” she returned. “Have a good evening.” She turned and walked away, her skirt swaying.

Logan knew he should drive away. Knew he shouldn’t be watching Sandra, shouldn’t be allowing his basic attraction to her good looks take over his common sense.

But he had enjoyed the day with her, and even though part of him disapproved, he had to laugh at her quick tongue, her pert responses. Once again he smiled at some of the things she had said.

Then he glanced at the girls, dismayed to see Brittany awake and looking at him with frank interest.

“What are we waiting for, Uncle Logan?” she asked, her voice radiating innocence.

“Traffic,” he replied, deadpan. Then, without a second glance, he drove to their house.

Sandra pulled out her last sheet of ruby glass, setting it carefully on the light table. With a felt pen she marked the places she would cut, working with the striations and the patterns inherent in the glass.

She smiled as she envisioned how the completed lamp would look, how the light would play through it.

So far she had enough glass for one lamp and a few pieces left over for a second. She had hoped to pick up her glass shipment, still sitting in a warehouse in Medicine Hat. But she would have to wait until she got her first tutoring paycheck. It surprised her that Logan was willing to pay her more than Florence had offered. Of course, he could probably afford it, she reasoned.

She didn’t know how long the job would last, but so far she calculated that if she worked one more day, she would have enough money to pay for the glass. Three more days would pay for her car, and four more days would earn a few more groceries that would last until the lamps were finished.

A small thrill of excitement fluttered through her at the thought of completing the lamp and what the job represented. Money earned on her own and maybe, perhaps, the beginning of a new career.

For now, it looked as if she would be able to prove her father wrong, after all. Her life was finally coming to a place of her own choosing.

She pulled out the patterns for the petals of the flowers, and as she laid them on the glass, she happened to look out the window.

If she angled her head slightly, she could see the front door of the church in Elkwater. She had never attended. As she had told Logan, her preferred place of worship was up on a hill, away from other people. Alone and away from the harsh expectations she’d grown up with.

But today she caught herself looking at the church more than once as she worked. Wondered what kind of people went. Wondered if they sang any of the traditional songs that were sung in her church.

She hadn’t been to church since she left home five years ago. She had thrown off the stifling expectations of her father, and church attendance was one of them.

She’d been in Elkwater for four months, and only in the last two had she started eyeing the church.

And that was mostly because Cora, her good friend and fellow traveler, had left again.

If anyone could talk her out of going, Cora could, Sandra thought, looking at the glass she was preparing to cut. She and Cora had been through a lot together. California, Minnesota and at the end, Hornby Island and Henri Desault.

Sandra shivered. Henri was too vivid a memory still. She wouldn’t be in the financial pickle she was in if it wasn’t for Henri and his smooth talking. A consummate salesman, she thought, curling her lip in disgust. She set the pattern on the glass, tracing it with quick, decisive strokes as if trying to eradicate the memory.

She had spent time with Henri. Had dated him and thought she’d found someone who cared about her. Who accepted her without expectations. Then one day she let him see the stained glass work she did in her spare time. Time she’d eked away from the mindless day jobs she needed to pay for her supplies. She’d planned on selling her work when she had enough inventory built up. The money was going to finance her working full time on her own.

Henri knew a place to sell her stuff and promised her more money than she could get peddling at craft fairs and local markets.

She had fallen for his charm, his smooth talk, and in no time, seven of her best pieces of work had been taken and sold. She had trusted him to return. Trusted him to give her the money.

She hadn’t seen a penny from Henri. Nor had she seen Henri again.

At that low point in her life, Cora came up with the brain wave of moving to Alberta.

Sandra had fought the move. Anywhere in Alberta was too close to Calgary and home. But the thought of staying alone was even more depressing.

So she gamely packed up her little car with the few things she and Cora owned. They worked their way through the Fraser Valley, then across Alberta to Medicine Hat. There they found an ad for a small furnished house for rent in the town of Elkwater. It had an extra room for Sandra to set up a studio of sorts. Sandra sold a few pieces, and through that got the order for the lamps.

Now Cora was gone, with a promise that as soon as she returned, they would head south to California. But the longer Cora stayed away, the less sure Sandra was of leaving. In fact, it seemed that in the past six months, Sandra’s dissatisfaction with her life had grown.

She missed belonging somewhere. And whether she wanted to admit it or not, she missed belonging to someone.

She glanced out the window. A movement at the church made Sandra pay closer attention. The doors opened and a few people walked out.

She wasn’t going to watch, she thought.

But she couldn’t stop herself from looking. Bethany and Brittany bounced out of the church, their facial expressions exaggerated as they chatted with each other. Sandra smiled and kept looking, wondering.

And there he was. Behind them, hands in the pockets of his eternal khaki pants, came their uncle Logan.

He was smiling, looking relaxed, at peace.

Sandra felt a mixture of envy and a lift of pleasure as she watched him. He was good-looking, she had to concede. He had the potential to be a lot of fun, if only he’d drop the fussy, protective-uncle shtick he insisted on maintaining.

He paused, looking back to say something to a young woman who caught up to him. She wore a beige shift. Neat. Elegant. Uptight, Sandra thought a bit cattily.

Logan’s smile grew as he spoke to the woman. He lifted his hand and touched her shoulder lightly. It was almost avuncular, but for the first time in many years, Sandra felt a distinct dig of jealousy at the gesture. Around Sandra, Logan was either uptight, thinking she might lead his nieces astray, or he was scowling, thinking she might lead his nieces astray.

He was worse than some of the parents she had met while student teaching.

Yet she couldn’t keep her eyes off him as he talked to the woman.

She wondered who she was. Friend? Girlfriend who had come up for a visit?

Sandra took a deep breath, as if cleansing away the coil of strange emotions, and concentrated on tracing exactly twelve petals on the glass. She made a mistake and rubbed it out with a tissue then glanced out the window again.

But Logan, the woman and the girls were gone.

She felt momentarily bereft. Left out. She didn’t belong to that little group. She was here in her rented house. They were out there, heading to Logan’s spacious cabin.

This was enough, she told herself.

She capped her pen, dropped it on her worktable and headed to the beach, open spaces and other people.

“I’d love to go for a walk.” As Karen stood, she addressed the girls, who were laying on the floor, playing a board game. “Are you coming, Brittany and Bethany?”

Logan saw them exchange a quick look, and it wasn’t kind. He knew they would say no. They had never really liked Karen.

“We’d love to,” Brittany said, getting up. “Wouldn’t we Bethany?”

Bethany nodded, smiling at her uncle, who looked at both his nieces, his eyes narrowed. Why the sudden change of heart?

“We’ll clean the game up after, Uncle Logan,” Brittany said, smiling at him.

They were up to something. He knew it. He angled his body away from Karen. He shot them both a warning look that he knew Karen wouldn’t see.

They quickly glanced down, and he knew the message was sent and understood. Behave.

He turned to Karen with a forced smile. “Shall we go?”

The afternoon sun warmed Logan’s shoulders as they walked in silence to the lake.

Logan was still trying to absorb the shock he had felt when Karen showed up unexpectedly on his doorstep this morning.

She had been passing through, she had said. Stayed overnight in Medicine Hat. Logan’s partner told her where he was. She thought, since she was in the neighborhood, maybe she would stop in and see how Logan and the girls were doing.

Brittany and Bethany stayed close by as they walked, as if unwilling to give Karen and Logan the space they always gave him and Sandra.

“Your partner, Ian, tells me that you’ve got an important project due,” Karen said, breaking the silence.

Logan nodded. “I’m submitting it on spec. A few other architects are submitting plans, as well. If the client likes what I’ve done, we have a good chance at more work.” He bit his lip, thinking of the project that just wouldn’t obey. He’d never had this hard a time coming up with ideas. Nor had so much been riding on one project, he reminded himself.

“I heard it was the Jonserads that you might be doing this work for.” Karen angled him a questioning glance. “They’re a pretty big company. Family business.”

Logan nodded. He didn’t need the reminder.

“My parents know the Jonserads,” she added coyly. “If you want, I could put in a good word for you.”

Logan stiffened at the suggestion. All his life he had worked for everything he had. Nothing had come easily. He had managed without anyone’s help, and he was proud of that.

“Thanks for that, Karen. But I would just as soon earn the job based on my own merit.” He smiled at her to ease the harshness of his words. But he could tell from the suddenly brittle smile that she was hurt.

“The girls seem to be settling down,” Karen said with forced brightness as she wrapped her sweater around herself.

Thankfully Brittany and Bethany had gone a little ahead, talking and laughing.

“It’s taken a bit of doing, but it’s coming along.” Logan slipped his hands in his pockets, squinting against the glare of the sun off the lake. He wondered again why Karen had come.

They arrived at the boardwalk that led partway around the lake. Karen’s steps slowed. She was letting the girls get even farther ahead.

“I know my coming here is a surprise,” she said quietly, looking straight ahead. “I’m sure you thought, after I broke up with you, that you’d never see me again.”

Logan said nothing, letting her do all the talking. Their break had caused him a measure of pain, but in retrospect, he realized that his pride had hurt more than his feelings.

“This is a little awkward for me.” She sighed and stopped, turning to face him, lifting her exquisite face to his. Her short blond hair framed her features perfectly, emphasizing her delicate cheekbones, the fine line of her chin. Logan recognized her beauty almost as an afterthought. Which surprised him, considering that at one time he’d been attracted to her.

“I realized how much I missed you, Logan,” she continued, her soft green eyes holding his. “When the girls came, I made a rash decision. I see that now.”

“It was a while ago, Karen,” he gently reminded her. Eighteen months, to be precise, he thought.

“I know. That’s what makes this so awkward.” She smiled at him, tentatively reaching out to him. “I tried to date other guys. I thought I could forget you.” She shrugged her dainty shoulders, wrapped by her finely knit cardigan. “I couldn’t.”

Logan nodded, wondering how to extricate himself from this situation. Karen might have been yearning to try again, but he had no inclination to renew the relationship. Not with his work and his nieces occupying most of his time.

Where were those girls when he needed them?

As if on cue, he heard Brittany call, “Uncle Logan, look who we found.”

He glanced up with a grin of relief that faded when he saw their reluctant escort.

Sandra Bachman.

Brittany had one of her hands, Bethany the other, and they were pulling her along the boardwalk.

The girls stopped in front of Karen and Logan, looking at Sandra like they had just snagged a prize.

“She was coming this way already,” Bethany said, bestowing an angelic smile on Logan.

“I was just heading home, actually,” Sandra said. The soft breeze coming off the lake teased her loose hair, made her long flowing skirt sway. She looked soft, deceptively gentle. Logan couldn’t look away.

Her dark eyes flicked over Karen, then to Logan, one eyebrow quirking when she noticed his regard.

Covering up, Logan turned to Karen. “I should introduce you to the girls’ tutor, Sandra Bachman. Sandra, this is…Karen.”

Karen seemed to catch his momentary hesitation over her official title, but recovered and put on a polite smile, extending her hand to Sandra.

“Nice to meet you,” Karen said smoothly.

Sandra shook her hand, her gaze assessing. “Likewise,” she said, one corner of her mouth curling into a smile.

Logan braced himself for one of Sandra’s comments, but she said nothing more.

“So the girls must keep you quite busy,” Karen said.

Sandra glanced at each of the girls. “They’re a challenge that I try to rise to every day. But I think we’re making some progress.”

Karen murmured a vague response, then looked at Logan, as if expecting him to end this conversation.

But Logan knew what faced him if he was alone with Karen again. He didn’t feel inclined to reopen the topic of Karen and her feelings on their relationship.

“Out for some exercise?” he asked Sandra, slipping his hands in his pockets, projecting the image of someone with nothing better to do than chat up his nieces’ tutor.

“No, just a walk,” Sandra replied with a sparkle in her eye. “I get enough exercise just pushing my luck.”

Logan couldn’t help his answering grin. “And here I thought you were the kind of person who would spend hours in aerobic classes.”

Sandra waved that comment away. “I’d sooner spend my money on chocolate fudge sundaes than pay someone to put me through pain.”

“If you’ve experienced pain while doing aerobics, that could be the fault of your instructor,” Karen informed her.

Logan glanced sidelong at Karen, feeling a faint flush of shame at how completely he had ignored her.

“Could be,” Sandra agreed, her grin fading as she looked at Karen. “Or it could be that I just wasn’t doing things right.” Sandra took an abrupt step back, and Logan recognized the first movement toward departure. The quick glance at her watch was the second.

He didn’t want her to go.

“It’s been nice meeting you, Karen,” she said, formal. Polite.

Karen smiled in return.

But the girls weren’t happy. “We just got here. You can’t go now, Sandra,” Brittany wailed.

Sandra laid a hand on each of their shoulders, still grinning. “I have two legs, and in spite of not taking aerobics, I can walk quite well. No ‘can’t’ about it.”

“Then you shouldn’t go,” Bethany corrected, grabbing Sandra’s hand.

“And shouldn’t is a moral imperative, Bethany.” Sandra tapped Bethany’s nose. “I’m on my day off, so I’m not under any obligation to follow it.”

Logan couldn’t help but smile at the word games Sandra so easily indulged in. But it was better for all concerned, himself included, if they kept their relationship arm’s-length.

“Let’s go, Bethy, Brit,” Logan said, hastening the separation. “We shouldn’t waste Sandra’s time.”

In spite of his reflections, he couldn’t help another glance in her direction and was disconcerted to see her looking at him, as well, her expression serious.

Then, with a quick wave and a toss of her head, Sandra was striding down the boardwalk toward the beach, her hair and skirt swinging in time with her steps.

“So, that’s the new tutor,” Karen said, a prim note in her voice. “She seems very…vivacious.”

Logan’s only acknowledgment of Karen’s statement was a curt nod. As he glanced at Karen, he couldn’t help comparing the two women. Sandra’s dark eyes, dark hair and wide smile. Karen’s light hair, clear eyes and composed manner.

Shaking his head, he pushed the thoughts aside. Karen had come to church. Sandra hadn’t. That should be comparison enough for him.

Karen stayed until late afternoon. She coerced the girls into a board game, talked with Logan about friends they had in common.

But when she drove away and he came into the cabin, he felt worn out and was thankful to be alone again.

“You’re not going back to her, are you?” Brittany asked as soon as he stepped into the house. She lay on the couch, Bethany on the recliner. Both had their eyes fixed on their uncle.

Logan looked at his more outspoken niece, weighing his words. “That’s not for you to say, Brittany,” he replied firmly, recognizing the need to set personal boundaries. “Karen is a good person, and at one time we had a strong relationship.”

“Why did she come back?”

“She just came for a visit.” Logan wasn’t going to delve into the real reason. Given the girls’ antagonism toward his former girlfriend and their not so subtle cheerleading for Sandra, he figured the less they knew, the better.

Brittany gave her uncle a knowing look. “I bet she wants you back.”

Logan was taken aback at Brittany’s perceptiveness.

“I’ve seen the way she looks at you,” Brittany said smugly. “What do you think, Bethany?”

Bethany gave a hesitant shrug. “I don’t know.”

Brittany snorted. “Of course, you don’t know. She liked you.” Brittany looked at her uncle. “I think she wants you back.”

“And I think you’ve said enough, Brittany,” Logan chided, walking past her to the kitchen. “Seeing as how you’re so full of advice, you can help me make supper tonight.”

But as they ate, the girls’ words reinforced what he already knew. Karen was sweet, kind and shared the same faith.

She just didn’t hold the appeal she once had. Her soft green eyes and her pale blondness seemed pallid.

Pallid compared to Sandra’s heavy brown hair and dancing eyes.