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“Brain-freeze.” Logan laughed and picked up his own sandwich. “Happens every time.”
Avery hadn’t thought she could finish the sandwich. But not only did she clean her plate, she tilted her glass until every last drop was drained. With a sigh of contentment, she set the glass down, then realized Logan was staring at her. A flash of heat colored her cheeks.
Logan ignored the awkward moment and asked, “Have you tackled the office yet?”
Tanner butted in without giving her a chance to answer. “Avery had one of those calls.”
The smile died and Logan’s eyes hardened. “How bad was it?”
“She said—”
This time Avery cut him off. “I can speak for myself, thank you. And I never said it was an obscene call. You did. All I heard was breathing.” For some reason she couldn’t bring herself to tell Logan that the call made her uneasy.
“Well, just so you’re prepared, you’ll get a few. The whole family has. The calls run the gambit of heavy breathing to outright threats.”
“Have you reported them to the police?”
Logan and Tanner shared a hard look, then Logan said, “Ross Middleton is the sheriff of Haven. He was my wife’s brother. He’s not willing to give much credence or time to crank calls.”
“I wonder why,” Tanner said sarcastically. “I know, I know, you don’t want to discuss it.”
Avery was mystified. She watched as Tanner picked up his dirty dishes and dumped them in the sink. “I’m out of here, folks,” he said. “Thanks for lunch. Avery, it was good to meet you.” He opened the door, then stopped. “I’m bringing Molly over later, Logan. So don’t do one of your famous disappearing acts, okay?” He waved and left, leaving a growing silence behind.
Avery gazed around at the chaos in the kitchen with a sinking feeling. How had it happened? She’d been enjoying herself so much she’d forgotten to notice what a mess the two men had made.
“Did you make any headway in the office?”
“I was just about to start when your brother came in.”
Logan had been pleased to see that wounded look disappear from Avery’s eyes when he and Tanner had been cooking and generally acting silly. But now it was back, and it reminded him of an animal that couldn’t tell him where it hurt.
Cruelty in any form saddened him and made him angry. He’d devoted most of his life administering to defenseless creatures that had borne the brunt of human rage and brutality. Who had hurt her?
He was good at diagnosing what ailed his patients, good at figuring out the puzzles. Avery was a different matter, though. He’d have to find out about her pain another way.
Logan had not forgotten his parting remark that morning. He knew she must be wondering. “Why don’t I help you clear up this mess and we can talk? I’ll try to answer any questions you have.”
Avery realized she had a hundred questions, but none she was willing to risk asking. Stick to business, she reminded herself. The last thing she wanted or needed was to get involved in Logan’s life.
Together they carried the dirty dishes to the sink, and as she began filling the dishwasher, she noticed him watching her. His eyes no longer seemed distant. They had a gentle, knowing look, as if he perhaps saw far too much. An icy finger of unease ran down her spine. She wanted to keep her past to herself, hidden away so she’d never have to face the shame of what had happened to her.
Her nerves must have been more frayed than she’d thought, for unthinkingly she said the first thing that popped into her head. “Why is the house so empty? It’s obvious there was furniture. I mean, there are indentations in some of the rugs and I was...” Her voice trailed away. She couldn’t believe she’d actually asked.
Logan barely managed to keep from smiling. He was aware that she’d dropped her guard, but now it was back in place. She was obviously trying to ignore the way he was staring as she busied herself by filling the sink with soapy water to scrub the cast-iron skillet and the blender. He liked the way she moved, the sway of her hips, the graceful hand gestures.
He leaned his backside against the edge of the counter, crossed his arms over his chest and said, “All the missing furniture belonged to my wife, to Becky’s family. They’re heirlooms from Becky’s mother, who wanted them back after the accident. There wasn’t any reason to kick up a fuss. I never particularly cared for them in the first place. They always had a musty smell I disliked.”
“And there was no reason to replace them?”
“Not with just me living here.” He changed the subject to her. He still wanted to understand about her past. “I hope you called your family and let them know you arrived safely. Where did you say you were from?”
“Seattle. And I don’t have anyone there anymore. I called Denise last night.”
“Denise, the friend in Houston? The one who got you this job?” Logan glanced around the kitchen. “I don’t know if she did you a favor or not. Just wait until you tackle the office.” He was intrigued by her smile, as if her lips were unused to the movement.
Avery found that the turn the conversation had taken was making her edgy, so she headed off any further questions with another of her own. “I thought from what you said yesterday that you no longer had a practice, but from what I saw in the office, you seem to be in business.”
“Confusing, isn’t it. There’s a saying in my work—once a veterinarian, always a veterinarian. It’s true. I have patients I’ve treated for years. Their owners aren’t willing to go to anyone else, even my brother. They refuse to let me retire and they call here day and night.”
“And you don’t turn them down, do you,” she said softly. Warmth coursed through her. Maybe the world did have people you could believe in. For all Logan’s initial indifference and the aura of mystery, he was a caring, sensitive man. Then the warm feeling cooled. What did she know about people? Hadn’t she learned, the hard way, that her judgment couldn’t be trusted?
He watched her attack the dirty skillet with zeal and a wire scrub brush. Her abrupt silence baffled him. He waited for Avery’s next question, because weren’t women, in general, notorious truth seekers? Secrets drove them nuts and led to a cross-examination worthy of the CIA. But Avery didn’t fit that mold, seemed loath to put a voice to her curiosity.
All of a sudden, he understood. Conversation, with questions and answers, was a two-way street. By asking, she would leave herself open to being quizzed. That was the last thing she wanted.
As Avery scrubbed, unaware of Logan’s thoughts, she allowed herself to dream a little, to slip back into familiar territory. “You’ll need me to set up your books as a small-business venture,” she said. “And of course you’ll want invoicing and billing. What about inventory? I mean, you use supplies and stuff, right?” She didn’t have a clue what a veterinarian required, but figured his needs were closely in line with those of a medical doctor. A vet was a doctor, after all. “And you’ll need tax depreciation on your equipment. Oh, and a profit-and-loss statement.”
She turned her head and looked at Logan. Omigod. Had she said too much, given something away?
“That sounds about right to me.” Logan’s suspicions were confirmed. She was well educated. Laypeople didn’t throw around terms like profit-and-loss statements and tax depreciation.
But Avery, excited by the prospect of getting involved in something she loved, forgot about discretion. Just as she started to tell Logan some of her plans, the kitchen door swung open. Hair flying, hands full of paper sacks, voice loud and laughing, Jessie Middleton blew into the kitchen like a whirlwind. She was scantily dressed in short shorts and a tank top that left little to the imagination.
The fact that she was being ignored made Avery bite her lip. Obviously Jessie thought that by pretending not to see the interloper, Avery would simply disappear. Well, Jessie was in for a shock. Bad manners didn’t faze Avery in the least. The less she was lured into this family and its problems, the better off she’d be. But becoming invisible didn’t seem to work with Logan. He was standing directly behind her, and as she started to move away, he stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.
Jessie kept her gaze on Logan’s face as she began pulling plastic containers from one of the bags. “I brought lunch. Your favorites, Logan. I talked Louise into making chili. She used Becky’s recipe.” She darted a cutting look at Avery. “You always said Becky was the best cook in the world and her chili was worth its weight in gold—” she giggled “—or did you say it was worth its weight in hot peppers? Anyway, I thought it would be a treat. Do you have any beer? Oh, and I stopped off at the café just in time. Maebell was taking blackberry cobblers out of the oven. You know how stingy she is about using her stockpile of fresh berries, but when I told her it was for you, well, she couldn’t say no. She never forgot how much Jamie and you loved her cobblers, and the blackberry was his very favorite in the whole world. You ought to stop by the café. Logan. She misses Jamie like we all do.”
Jessie juggled the deep-dish cobbler pan like a hot potato, then quickly set it on the table. “I’ll get the plates,” she said.
“I’m sorry, Jess,” he answered, his apology laced with kindness, “but we’ve eaten.” He made an effort to continue to smile. The mention of his son opened that deep hole in his heart again, like a fresh wound. He tightened his grip on Avery’s shoulder.
“But, Logan, it’s not even twelve-thirty yet! You never eat before twelve-thirty.”
“Tanner stopped by and made sandwiches for us.”
“Grilled cheese?” Jessie asked. “He fixed his grilled cheese sandwiches?” Her gaze swung to Avery, as if to confirm her worst fears, then back to Logan. “And you made malts?”
Apparently Logan had hurt her feelings. He walked over to Jessie, slipped an arm around her shoulders and gave her a brotherly hug. “It was thoughtful of you to go to so much trouble and I appreciate it, Jess, really I do. But you should have checked first, honey.”
“I never had to check before.”
“How about storing this stuff in the fridge and I’ll eat it tonight?”
It didn’t take a genius to realize that as sure as the sun rose every morning, Jessie was going to blame her, Avery, for Logan’s rejection. Avery had a feeling she was being dragged into something and she should turn tail and run as fast as possible. But where would she go?
Jessie threw barbed glances, full of loathing, at her as she pitched the food containers into the refrigerator and slammed the door. “I’ll help you groom the horses, then.”
Logan smiled and shook his head, “Thanks for offering, kitten, but the boys are here today. Besides, aren’t you supposed to be in San Antonio this week making arrangements for Fiesta?” He glanced at Avery to explain. “Fiesta San Antonio is a big celebration held every year. And Jess is one of the duchesses.”
Before Avery could comment on that, Jessie stormed out of the house, slamming the kitchen door. “She’s in love with you, you know,” Avery said instead.
“Nonsense. Jess is like a kid sister. Hell, she was a kid when Becky and I married. She spent more time here than with her parents in San Antonio.” Avery’s statement seemed to give him pause. “Okay, she’s always had a schoolgirl crush on me, and she’s just overprotective since Becky’s death. I think she feels a need to take care of me. I just wish this possessiveness would run its course and she’d direct all those pent-up feelings toward someone else.”
Men could be so dense sometimes, Avery thought. Or maybe he wasn’t all that blind. She remembered, when she’d first arrived and again just a few moments ago, he’d used her like a shield against Jessie’s advances. She sensed Logan was a man with too many problems on his plate and didn’t know how to deal with them all at once. She certainly wasn’t about to add to his troubles. “She’s a little old for a schoolgirl crush, Logan.”
Big mouth. What happened to her promise to keep her opinions to herself?
“She’s immature and I feel sorry for her. She worshiped Becky, and my wife was the only Middleton who took much notice of Jess or who could handle her wildness. I think Jess has latched on to me as a way to deal with her grief. It’ll pass with time.”
Wildness was only one word Avery would use to describe Jessie. Others came more to mind, such as spoiled and disturbed. She recognized the signs and knew all too well where the young woman was headed if she didn’t get some help. Avery could have told Logan a few things about the pitfalls of sticking his head in the sand. She’d done the same with her father and brother. Look what it had cost her.
“Your guilt won’t do her any good, Logan.”
“That sounds like the voice of experience.”
“I see a lot of my brother in Jessie. I wish someone had recognized the signs.” When she realized her slip, her hands shook. Avery quickly busied herself by drying the heavy cast-iron skillet.
He knew the second she withdrew back into herself, and he sighed. Hell, he had enough worries of his own. Taking on a stranger’s problems was beyond him. “You know, Avery, you can’t run forever. Believe me, I’ve tried, and I promise you it’ll catch up with you. If you’re in some sort of trouble, I might be able to help.”
She turned, ready to deny that she needed anyone, much less his assistance. Their eyes met and held, and the words caught in her throat. At an earlier time in her life she would have been thrilled to have a man look at her the way Logan looked at her. Things were different now, though. She couldn’t afford to believe in anyone, much less trust herself.
Logan didn’t look away from the shifting emotions in Avery’s lovely gray eyes. Having a good-looking, desirable woman underfoot perhaps wasn’t such a good idea, he mused. After all, he’d only agreed to the crazy scheme to shut his father up and keep him from interfering any further in his life, but that was before Logan had felt the novelty of desire zing through his veins. He halfheartedly cursed himself for being weak. “Whatever you’re running from, Haven’s the right place to get lost. Nothing much happens here.”
Suddenly the kitchen door slammed open against the wall and a lanky teenage boy, arms waving like flags, eyes round with fear, skidded to a stop just inside. “Doc, come quick! Something’s wrong with the horses. They’re all really sick.”
“If this is one of your jokes, Benton, so help me...” But Logan was moving, and his threat lacked any anger as he saw how pale and scared the boy was. He grabbed his hat, then turned to Avery. “How are you around horses?”
“I don’t know. Except for yesterday, the closest I’ve ever been to one was the television.”
Her answer made him give a quick bark of laughter. He motioned for her to join him. “I might need you.”
The thought of being needed, even wanted, was all the impetus Avery required. She took off after Logan.
CHAPTER FOUR
THE AFTERNOON SUN was high overhead. There wasn’t even a breath of wind. The shock of stepping from the sweet coolness of the house into the heat of the day was like walking into an inferno. Avery’s limbs felt leaden, sweat promptly dampened her forehead and it was an effort to keep up with Logan.
She saw the boy, Benton, disappearing into the dark hole of the open barn doors. Who was he? she wondered, then remembered Logan’s saying to Jessie something about the boys being there today.
Once inside, she shivered as the breeze created by the overhead fans touched her damp skin. Four teenage boys were lined up outside a stall. When they saw Logan, they silently stepped aside to let him enter.
Logan recognized the pungent odor of sickness. From the sound of Allspice’s labored breathing, the horse was close to death. He hunkered down beside the animal and felt his pulse.
“What happened here?” he asked the boys.
They all hung back except Benton. His voice cracked with emotion. “We were just feeding them like we’ve always done, Doc.”
Avery stood there, horrified, as she looked at the horse, crumpled in the hay. His beautiful red-brown coat was slick with sweat. She wanted to clamp her hands over her ears with each rattling breath. “How sick is he, Logan? Can you give him something?”
Logan didn’t answer, but moved from stall to stall, evaluating each horse’s condition and listening to Benton.
“You know Allspice, Doc. He always has to be first or he kicks the stall. And he’s a glutton. But by the time we fed the others, Allspice was like that.”
“The feed?”
One of the other boys spoke up. “That was the first thing we thought of, Doc. Maybe it had soured. We took it away from all of them, but they’d eaten some—not as much as Allspice, but...” His voice trailed away in anguish.
Logan headed toward a row of feed bins against the far wall. He reached in, brought a handful up to his nose and sniffed. “It’s tainted,” he said. “Tom, empty the bins into those metal trash cans, then take it to the storeroom, lock the door and bring me the key. Under no circumstances are any of you to use any feed from that room.” He glanced at Avery.
“What can I do to help?” she asked.
“Come with me.”
Avery followed him toward the front of the barn, then through a green door, which he unlocked. She got a quick view of a small waiting room before she trailed him down a hall to another world, an environment of spotless stainless steel, high, glass-fronted cabinets with neat rows of labeled bottles. They passed through a set of double glass doors, and Logan stopped beside an examining table.
“I need you to call Tanner and tell him not to bring Molly here.” He pointed to a typed list of phone numbers taped to the wall as he stuffed vials of medicine and syringes into his shirt pockets. “If you can’t reach Tanner at home, try his cell phone. After you talk to him, call Dad and tell him to get in touch with Pierce. When you finish, come find me.”
He was barely out the door when she had Tanner on the phone. In an economy of words, and because she had no idea what had happened to the animals, she was curt with Tanner, but softened when he offered to call Mac and Pierce. As she talked, she had a chance to look around the office. There was an array of confusing items: instruments in glass drawers; tables on wheels which held colored bottles; what looked like a pressure cooker of some sort.
Remembering Logan’s orders, Avery gave one quick glance at the photograph of a child on the wall, then headed out. She found Logan kneeling beside Allspice, stroking the quivering horse’s neck and talking softly to him. She saw an empty vial and syringe.
“Is he going to be all right?”
Logan didn’t answer. She waited for what seemed forever, watching him tenderly care for the sick horse. When Logan finally looked up, she realized the harsh breathing had stopped.
Avery blinked back sudden tears. Not only for the horse, but for the pain in Logan’s eyes.
“Do you still want to help?” he asked.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“It won’t be easy, and if you’ve got a weak stomach, you better say so now.”
“I’ll be okay and I’ll do whatever you say.” She glanced at the motionless animal and had to ask, “Are they all going to die?”
“Not if I have anything to say about it.” His tone held grim determination.
Something about Logan changed, like light shifting across his face. She could have sworn she caught a glimpse of rage, just under the surface and ready to boil over.
AVERY GRIPPED Possum’s lead as she walked the dainty dappled-gray mare around and around the paddock. She’d learned from watching two of the boys, also walking horses, how to hold the lead rope close to the side of the animal’s face so she could pet her and talk to her. Raul was walking King Moe, a black stallion too ill to be ornery, the boy said, and Tony was walking Hopalong, a pretty, light brown horse with a white tail and mane.
She discovered a lot about the boys as they walked. They were working for Logan without pay as punishment for getting into trouble at school. From the way they cared for the horses, she didn’t think they minded their punishment. She would have learned more, but the increasing heat, worry and the struggle to keep the horses on their feet and walking soon took all her energy.
She lost track of time or how long she’d been walking until Logan came out, shoved a wide-brimmed straw cowboy hat on her head and handed her a bottle of water, insisting she drink some now. Then he clasped her chin in his hand and searched her face. He smiled as he said, “Your nose and cheeks are turning pink. Keep the hat pulled low.”
She was perfectly still and gazed steadily into his eyes. “I’m okay.”
Logan nodded and reluctantly dropped his hand. He was impressed that she didn’t complain or want to quit because she was tired, dirty and hot. “If you feel dizzy or nauseated at all, don’t be ashamed to speak up.” He busied himself examining Possum. “You don’t have to prove anything to those kids. Believe me, you’re not tougher than they are just because you’re older.”
