Blame it on Texas Page 9

  With a sigh of contentment, she finished off the last of the chicken fried steak.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Logan stood on the porch with Katie and Megan, waving as Jake and Carol drove away. It had been hard to keep his mouth shut as Carol had hustled around getting ready to leave. He'd wanted to warn her about so many things. Muggers, taxi drivers, strange men, bums.

  He'd opened his mouth a few times as new dangers occurred to him, then shut it again when he remembered what Megan had said about Carol being a grown woman. To him she was still his kid sister, and he couldn't help but worry.

  God, it was hard to let go.

  They stepped back into the house and the silence wrapped around him like a warm blanket. No Nancy to sharpen her claws on his ego. No Jean staying quietly in the background, watching his every move. No Carol raising her eyebrows and humming whenever he and Megan were in the same room.

  Maybe the next week wouldn't be so bad after all. As long as he stayed outside, away from temptation.

  "Hey, Katydid. You want to go with me to check on Big Mac?" There, he'd be outside, and he'd have Katie along to distract him from his thoughts.

  Katie's eyes lit up and she raced for the back door. "Sure!"

  Blue pulled himself to his feet and limped to Katie's side. His paw was still covered in a bandage that made it difficult for him to balance on his injured leg, but he seemed determined not to let Katie out of his sight.

  Logan chuckled and grabbed her hat off the table on his way through the kitchen. "Here, put this on."

  Katie rolled her eyes, but she settled the hat on her head and linked her arm through his, then reached down to pet Blue before she opened the door.

  A backward glance gave Logan an enticing view of Megan's long, slender legs with just a hint of cheek peeking out from under the hem of her shorts as she bent down to check something in the oven.

  Hoo-boy, this was going to be one long week.

  ***

  The rich, heavy scent of tomato sauce and garlic reached Logan before he stepped on the back porch. He stopped, one foot on the step, and inhaled deeply. His stomach growled, reminding him he'd worked straight through lunch.

  He'd sent Katie and Blue back after she'd watched the calf for a while, then he started working on the tractor. He'd only planned to do some basic maintenance, but the carburetor needed a good cleaning and adjustment, then he found other things that needed repair. A trip to town for parts had turned into a class reunion when he ran into several couples he knew in high school.

  It amazed him how many people had stayed in that one-light town. He hadn't been able to get away fast enough. Still couldn't. But a number of his classmates had either never left, or had grown tired of city life and returned to raise their families.

  He'd asked Jake why he had stayed, taking over his parents' farm when they passed away. His answer had been deceptively simple. "It's home," he'd said. "Where else would I want to be?"

  That conversation stayed with Logan all through the night as he worked on a new game design. How long had it been since he'd had a "home?" His apartment was nothing more than a place to sleep after a long day at work. Even when he'd been married to Sue Ann, it was mostly a place to get dressed for an evening out, and a place to fight over his job and her flirting.

  But that tomato sauce and garlic smelled like home to him.

  Megan stood by the stove, pot holder in hand, wondering why Logan didn't come inside. She'd worked hard to fix an appetizing meal. She'd made the lasagna and garlic bread from scratch, and they were perfectly browned and piping hot. The salad was fresh and crisp. The table was set with Wedgwood-blue plates, and crisp yellow and white daisies had turned an old blue and white speckled coffee pot into a charming centerpiece.

  When she heard the screen door open, she whirled around to face the stove, pulling the oven door open as Logan stepped into the kitchen. She was so nervous, she reached for the pan with her bare hand, pot holder forgotten in the other. "Owwww! Dagnabbit!" She shook her hand in the air and bounced from one foot to the other.

  Logan crossed the kitchen in three strides, taking her wrist in his callused hand. He pulled her to the sink and turned on the cold water, thrusting her hand beneath the spray. "Keep it there while I get some ice."

  "It's not that bad. It just hurt for a second." So much for showing him how good she was in the kitchen. She'd managed to look like a idiot once again.

  He handed her a bag of frozen corn. "Hold on to this for a few minutes. At least it might keep your hand from blistering."

  She took the bag without argument and turned off the water. While he moved the lasagna and bread from the oven to the table, she leaned against the counter and watched him. She didn't miss the appreciative sniff he took before he set the food on the table, and she smiled. Maybe she hadn't totally messed up.

  ***

  Once Katie and Charlie were asleep, Megan knocked quietly on the study door. No answer. She twisted the knob and pushed the door open. Her heart melted at the sight of Logan laying halfway across the desk, his head on one outstretched arm, sound asleep.

  She knew she should leave, step back and close the door, but she didn't. His face was turned toward her, and she couldn't resist the opportunity to watch him as he slept.

  He looked exhausted. Tiny lines she hadn't noticed before fanned out from the corner of the one eye she could see. A muscle jumped along the edge of his clenched jaw. She wanted to go to him and rub his neck to ease the tension that seemed to radiate from him, even in sleep.

  Didn't he ever relax? Sleep eight hours straight, in a bed instead of a chair? Trying to keep up with the farm and the demands of his business was wearing him down, and she was afraid he would break from the strain. Added to that was his concern for his family, his desire to keep everyone safe. Didn't he know he wouldn't be able to take care of anyone if he didn't take care of himself?

  Megan wasn't sure if she should wake him and insist he go to bed, or if she should let him sleep. As uncomfortable as he looked, at least he was sleeping. She decided what she wanted to discuss could wait until morning and she took a step back.

  He must have sensed her presence. His eyes opened, pinning her in place with the intensity of his gaze. She watched as wariness replaced the heat in his eyes. He sat up and stretched, wincing as he straightened. "Hi."

  Feeling shy for some reason, Megan nodded but didn't reply. She flexed her fingers, wanting to--needing to--touch him.

  "Did you need something?"

  Now that was a loaded question. The kiss they'd shared a few nights earlier had stirred up a torrent of need. Need she should ignore, she reminded herself.

  She cleared her throat, afraid her voice would give her away. "I wanted to talk to you about your father. But it can wait until tomorrow. I'm sorry I woke you up."

  "No, that's okay. I'm supposed to be working, not sleeping. What about Dad?"

  Megan moved to the chair across the desk from Logan and sat down, then leaned forward, clasping her hands between her knees. "Your father is getting better every day. But he hates lying in that bed, away from everyone. He's lonely and bored. He wants to feel a part of things."

  Logan stretched and leaned back in his chair. A lock of hair fell over his brow and he brushed it back. "So what do you want me to do?"

  "I want to get him a wheelchair and take him outside during the day. I'd like to bring him to the dinner table, maybe even take him to church. And I think we should have a physical therapist come out and show me what exercises he should be doing."

  Logan looked thoughtful for a moment. "Do you really think he's up to it? He seems to have grown weaker since the night Katie disappeared."

  "That's one reason I want to get him up. He needs to feel useful, to feel like he's a part of your family. But you could call and check with his doctor if you're not sure. Or ask the visiting nurse when she comes by. I talked it over with her today and she thought it was a great idea." Megan yawned as the long day beg
an to catch up with her.

  Logan pushed his chair back and stood, then walked around the desk to stand in front of her. He took her hands and pulled her to her feet. "Go ahead and call whoever you need to in the morning, and order whatever you think he should have. But right now, you should be in bed."

  Megan kissed him lightly on the cheek and moved toward the door. "Thank you. And you need to go to bed, too, Logan. You can't keep up this pace without making yourself sick."

  He followed her to the door and turned off the office light. "I think I will, just this once. These last few days have about done me in. But we have Katie back safe and sound, so it wasn't' all bad."

  No, Megan thought, for once things seemed to be right with her world. At least the worst was behind them.

  ***

  With Charlie in his wheelchair parked in the shade of an old oak tree, Katie and Blue at his feet, Megan was free to tackle the job she'd been dying to get her hands on. Working in the garden. Weeds and grass had choked out most of the vegetables long ago, but a few hardy squash, okra, and onions had survived.

  She worked for a couple of hours, pulling the weeds around the vegetables first, then working out from there. She kept a constant watch on Charlie to be sure he didn't get too hot or tired. When he began to droop, she wheeled him inside and fixed him some iced tea and a snack.

  Logan had gone to Lubbock to buy tractor parts, so she helped Charlie into his recliner instead of trying to get him back to bed. Katie settled in to watch television, and Blue lay down at Charlie's feet. When Charlie fell asleep in his chair, Megan decided to go back outside and work for a little while longer. After checking to see that the front door was locked, she went out the back, leaving the door open so she could hear if Katie needed her.

  She knelt in the garden and scooped up a handful of soft dirt, letting it trickle through her fingers. Someone had loved this garden once. The dirt was rich and dark with compost and mulch. Weeds pulled out easily from the well-tilled soil.

  Before she knew it, she'd cleared one full row and half of another. She'd asked Logan to run a tiller through the garden earlier, but now she was glad he hadn't had time. She would have lost the squash that was just right for picking, and the okra would have been tilled under along with the grass and weeds.

  She picked some of each to cook for dinner and laid the vegetables aside. Then she continued down the row, stopping occasionally to check on Katie and Charlie. Two hours later she was hot and sweaty and covered in dirt from head to toe. And she loved every minute of it.

  She didn't want to stop halfway through, so when Charlie woke up from his nap, she moved him back to his wheelchair and took him back outside to his spot under the tree. She talked to him as she worked and watched Katie and Blue as the girl settled the dog carefully on a soft patch of grass, his head in her lap.

  Though Blue was getting better, he was taking full advantage of Katie's attention, exaggerating his limp when she was nearby. Megan had caught him a few times, walking almost normally, but as soon as he knew he was being watched, the pitiful look and three-legged hop returned.

  Megan smiled at the way the two had bonded, then returned to clearing the last row.

  Logan rounded the side of the house, whistling as he wondered what Megan had fixed for dinner. The sight of the garden, almost completely weed-free, hit him like a punch in the gut. The present seemed to meld with the past and once again he was twelve years old, coming home from playing with his friends when he was supposed to be working.

  His mother had asked him to come straight home from school and weed the garden for her. She'd wanted to get the tomatoes planted, and he'd let her down. She'd gone ahead and done it herself.

  As he had walked toward the garden, he'd noticed something out of place--a pile of clothes in the last row. Curious, he moved closer. It wasn't until he was by her side that he realized that the pile of clothes was his mother, and that she was dead. Dead because of him. Dead because she'd worked herself to death in that damned fool garden in a corner of hell known as Morris Springs, Texas.

  Logan shook off the painful memory and saw Megan kneeling in the dirt. His reaction was instinctive and powerful. He couldn't have held it back if he'd tried. He ran straight to the garden and yanked Megan up by one arm, not caring that he was overreacting, not thinking about whether or not he was hurting her.

  Megan cried out and Blue leapt to his feet, teeth bared, a threatening growl warning Logan to let go.

  He did, but he never took his eyes off of Megan. Thank God he'd gotten back early. Her face was red and splotchy from the intense afternoon sun. She looked like she was on the verge of a heat stroke. "What in the hell do you think you're doing? I leave for one day, one day dammit, and you do something stupid like this!"

  "What's so stupid about weeding the garden? It's time to plant pumpkins, and it's not too late for several other fall crops," Megan yelled back, her face close enough to his that he could kiss her if he leaned forward a little.

  But he didn't want to kiss her. He wanted to throttle her for making his heart stop. For making him feel like that twelve year old boy he'd buried along with his mother. For risking her life over a thirty foot wide patch of worthless dirt.

  "I told you I'd till it when I had time. Why didn't you wait?"

  She fisted one hand on her hip, and poked a finger into his chest with the other. "Because I wanted to get my hands dirty, because I wanted to pull the weeds out myself. Because I like gardening." She called Blue and Katie, then turned and stormed into the house.

  Logan hadn't noticed his father sitting under the tree, watching him. After Megan slammed the back door, his father called out to him. Logan still couldn't understand him very well, but he at least had a general idea of what his dad was saying now.

  And he heard in Charlie's voice that stern tone that told him he'd royally screwed up once again.

  With his shoulders sagging and his head down, he dropped to the ground under the tree. "I really blew that one, didn't I, Dad?"

  Charlie reached out with his good hand and squeezed Logan's shoulder. "What was…about?" he asked in his slow, tortured speech.

  Tears burned the back of Logan's eyes, but he refused to let them fall. He'd never told his father that it was his fault his mother was dead. Charlie never knew Logan had been told to weed the garden but had stopped for a game of football, instead.

  Some of the town kids had started an impromptu game after school. Tommy, Randy, Edwin Summers, and several others had called to him to join the game to even out the sides. He forgot all about his mother and the garden when he saw a chance to finally belong.

  The story poured out of him now, every detail of that day vivid in his mind. The heat, the stillness of the air as a storm brewed in the distance. Heat that didn't bother a twelve year old, but was too much for his mother.

  He couldn't look at Charlie as he told him the secret he'd held back for years. The secret that had finally driven him away from home because he couldn't stand to look his dad in the eye, knowing what he'd done.

  When he fell silent, Charlie took his chin in his callused, wrinkled hand and made him look up. The tears in his father's eyes nearly killed Logan. After all these years of silence, he'd finally broken his father's heart with the truth.

  Charlie's mouth worked, trying to form the words he wanted to say, but he couldn't seem to get them out. Finally, he managed to say, "Not…fault. Not…fault."

  Yeah, right. It wasn't his fault her heart had failed in the garden he was supposed to weed. If he'd been there, she would have been in the house watching her soap operas, a glass of tea at her side. He shook his head, squeezed Charlie's hand, and said, "I'm sorry, Dad."

  ***

  Logan locked himself in the study after helping his dad back into bed. Charlie had quickly fallen into an exhausted slumber with Logan still holding his hand. Logan cursed Megan under his breath for letting his father sit outside in the late afternoon heat. He never should have let her convin
ce him it would be good for Charlie to get outside for some fresh air.

  He would yell at her about that, too, but she left the room whenever he walked in. Katie glared at him and refused to speak to him or listen to anything he had to say. Even the damned dog growled at him whenever he got close. Thank God Carol would be home in two days and Megan would go back to Dallas.

  He picked up the phone and called his father's doctor to see if he would make a house call. The worry gnawed at him until the doctor declared Charlie had suffered no ill effects from his time outside, but thought Logan should bring him in the next afternoon for a checkup anyway.

  ***

  Megan wanted to throw dishes, but they weren't hers to break. She couldn't even punch a hole in the wall because it wasn't hers, either. She didn't belong here. All she wanted now was to go home. She wished she had a home to go to.

  She called Nancy and Jean and told them to look for another apartment. Hopefully they'd find one before she got back. They had a contract with Logan, but she'd just pay him the rent they owed through the end of the summer. He couldn't sue them over that. She hoped.

  She was going to miss Katie and Charlie. It would break her heart to leave them, but she didn't have a choice. Logan would throw her out as soon as Carol got home if she didn't leave on her own.

  Blue watched her pace the kitchen, his tail tucked firmly between his legs, his eyes sad. Katie was quiet, more quiet than a twelve year old girl should be. She tiptoed around both Megan and Logan, only speaking when Megan asked her a direct question, then answering only in monosyllables. She hadn't spoken a full sentence in more than a day.

  When Megan had scrubbed the kitchen until it gleamed, she sent Katie to bed and went into her room. Because she wanted to collapse on the bed and cry, she started packing her things. As soon as Carol got home, she was out of there. She had better things to do than stay where she wasn't wanted or needed.

  It seemed like she'd spent her whole life trying to be what others expected her to be. A quiet child, an excellent student, a dutiful daughter. She'd molded herself into whatever was required of her. But those days were behind her. She had a dream, she had a goal, and for once she had a life of her own. And no one was going to yell at her or berate her for doing what she loved, not ever again.