Forever and Always (23 page)

“You don't look fine,” Peter said. “I'll ask the doctor to give you some pills.”

“He's going to get better because Mama's taking care of him,” Kitty said.

Logan thought that was a far better prescription for getting well than some new pills.

“Mama said we couldn't stay long,” Esther told Logan. “She said putting up with Peter and me would wear down a saint.”

“What's a saint?” Kitty asked.

“I don't know,” Esther said, “but Mama said she wasn't one.”

Logan didn't know where he found the energy, but he laughed. If he could have had children, he would have wanted them to be just like these three. He was far from a saint, but he would have happily put up with them for as long as possible. Peter told him the news, and Esther corrected him when he wandered too far from the truth. Kitty just watched him. Peter and Esther were visitors, but she belonged there. That gave her an ownership the twins couldn't claim. Peter was in the middle of a story about riding his favorite horse when the doctor arrived.

“All of you, out!” he declared with a wink and a grin that had the children laughing.

“Logan needs pills,” Peter told the doctor.

“He stopped breathing,” Kitty informed the doctor. “It made Mama cry.”

Logan figured the doctor already knew he'd stopped breathing, but there was something about his expression that said he'd learned something that upset him.

“I have to examine Logan,” he said to the children. “You can come back later.”

“Will you make him well?” Kitty asked.

“I'll try,” the doctor replied.

“That's what Mama says when she doesn't want to do something. Don't you want Logan to get well?”

“Is it that important to you?” the doctor asked.

“I love Logan,” Kitty said. “I want him to get well so he can marry Mama.”

The doctor had looked upset before, but now he looked deeply disturbed. “I'll do the best I can. Now you children run along.”

Once the door was closed behind the children, the doctor turned to Logan, his expression having nothing to do with his usual bedside manner. “What do you mean by putting such a stupid notion into that child's head?”

“Kitty wants a father, but I've done nothing to make her think I can be that for her. If you want my opinion, and I doubt you do, I think it's a result of how badly Norman Spencer treated his wife and daughter. If anybody's to blame, it's this town for letting him get away with it.”

The doctor's anger eased. “The situation was complicated.”

“They always are, but that doesn't mean something couldn't be done about it.”

“Sibyl wouldn't stand up for Norman, but she wouldn't speak against him. He was her husband and the father of her child. She might not respect him, but she respected his position in her life.”

“Why did she marry him?”

“Many of us have asked that question for years. Her only answer was that it was her choice.”

“I believe she was forced to marry him.”

“I don't see how. Now let's talk about you.”

“Before we do, I want to make one thing clear. I do love Sibyl, and she loves me. I can tell by your shocked look you find that unbelievable. So do I. I sometimes worry that I'm dreaming and will wake up in my tent on the Rim. I've never said anything to Kitty, and I'm sure Sibyl hasn't. We haven't spoken of marriage and never will. Sibyl refuses to admit it, but I know I'm dying. My only desire is to spend what time I have left with her.”

“If she does love you, how can you cause her that kind of pain?”

“I asked her the same question. Can you guess what she said?”

The doctor shook his head.

“I've suffered pain for a lot of wrong reasons during my life. It would be a joy to suffer pain for something as wonderful as loving you.”

The doctor looked crestfallen. “It was her father's doing, and nothing will convince me otherwise. But that's past doing anything about. If Sibyl does love you, the best you can do for her is get well. What are we going to do about that?”

* * *

Sibyl was waiting anxiously when the doctor came down from Logan's bedroom. He looked tired and unhappy. “How is he? He hasn't gotten any worse, has he? Do you have any idea what's wrong with him?”

The doctor settled into a chair next to her. “He hasn't gotten any worse. In fact, he seems better today. His eyes are clearer, and his breathing is easier, but his pulse isn't good. If he hadn't been under a doctor's care, I'd say he'd ingested some kind of poison.”

“He got sick before he left Chicago. That was weeks ago.”

“I don't understand the randomness of the attacks,” the doctor said. “One day he has the strength to stop runaway horses and the next he can't sit up in bed. He makes a recovery, and the cycle starts all over again. It's like he's still being poisoned but only erratically. It doesn't make any sense.”

“It can't be poison, so it must be something else. You've got to find out what it is.”

The doctor's demeanor changed abruptly. “Why? What makes the health of a stranger so important to you?”

Sibyl was unnerved by the tone in which he voiced his question. “I'd be concerned about anybody who worked for me. I don't know what I would have done without his help at the bank.”

“So what are you going to do when he dies? If I can't figure out what's wrong with him, he
is
going to die.”

The doctor might as well have stabbed her in the heart. She could feel the pain, feel the blood draining from her body, feel her heart struggling to beat. Even breathing was difficult. “Isn't there something you can do for him?” Her voice sounded weak and far away.

“I haven't given up, but you should prepare yourself. And Kitty. The child appears to adore him.” The doctor paused before asking, “Are you in love with him?”

Sibyl was so surprised at the question she couldn't answer.

“He seems to be a fine man, but he's a stranger whose face is so swollen you can't begin to know what he looks like.”

Sibyl could see no reason to continue to deny what everyone seemed to know. “I don't care about his looks. I never have. If you ask why I fell in love with him, I doubt I can give you a reason you can understand. I don't really understand it myself. I guess it's partly because he's the first person in my life who's ever gone out of his way to do things for me, who's ever tried to make me happy, who has any confidence in me. It's partly because Kitty and that miserable dog adore him. Who can argue against the wisdom of a child and a dog?”

“I can.”

“Well, you can't argue against Cassie. Everybody knows she has the best instincts about people.”

“I'm not arguing
against
anybody. I'm worried about you. You had a difficult marriage. You've been widowed less than two months. It disturbs me that you could fall in love with anyone so quickly.”

“Well, you won't have to worry long. How much time does he have?”

“I don't know, but that's not what I was talking about. I don't want to see you hurt again. You've lost a husband and a father within a month.”

It was on her tongue to tell him about Raymond Sinclair, but she held back. That was her tragedy alone. “I know this makes me sound heartless, but any fondness I had for either man disappeared long ago. My heart was free. Norman's death opened the door, and Logan walked in. Neither one of us expected what happened. We tried to stop it. When we couldn't, we tried to deny it. When Logan almost died, we decided it was time to stop pretending. I don't know how much time we have left, but I'm going to use every minute to immerse myself in the kind of love I'd come to believe I'd never know.”

“Do you know Kitty wants me to make Logan well so he can marry you?”

Sibyl felt tears gather. “I know she's very fond of him, but I had no idea she'd thought of my marrying again.”

“She said she loves him.”

“I'm not surprised. I've never seen her take to anyone the way she's taken to Logan. It makes me angry all over again that Norman was so cold to her.” She had told herself she was not going to think of Norman ever again. All of that was behind her. “I'll have to talk to Kitty, explain what might happen. She's got to be prepared.”

“What about you?”

What about her? Was she strong enough to endure his death? Her love for Raymond had been more the idealistic daydreams of an impressionable young girl than a deep and abiding love. She had known Logan less than two months, yet she knew that's exactly the kind of love they shared. It would hurt more than anything ever had, but she could endure it because she would have known great love even if for a short time. She
would
endure it because Kitty's future was more important that her own.

A knock at the front door interrupted their conversation.

“I'll get it,” the doctor offered. “It's probably someone nosing around for information about Logan. Or even you. You realize that having a man in your house is going to start rumors.”

Sibyl laughed even though it wasn't funny. “Anyone who thinks I can be having an affair with a man who can barely sit up in bed is too stupid to worry about.” She stood. “It's my door so I'll answer it.”

But when she opened the door, she found herself facing a woman she'd never seen. “Can I help you?”

“Are you Sibyl Spencer?”

“Yes, but I don't know you.”

“I'm Bridgette Lowe, Elliot Lowe's fiancée.”

“I'm sorry, but I don't know anyone by that name.”

“He's calling himself Logan Holstock now, and I'm told he's living in your house.”

Sibyl might as well have been turned to stone. She was unable to move, unable to speak, barely able to breathe. Either her mind had gone blank, or it was spinning so fast she couldn't hold on to a thought. This couldn't be true. There had to be some misunderstanding. Yet the woman standing on her porch didn't look like the kind of person to make such a colossal mistake. Confident to the point of haughtiness, she looked like someone out of a fashion magazine. She wore a walking dress of pale green silk. The upper part was cut as a polonaise with the shirt kilted under the sash. The silk sleeves and trimming were black.

“May I come in?”

Sibyl snapped out of her paralysis. “Of course. You'll have to forgive my surprise. Logan has told us nothing about his past except that he came from Chicago.” She stepped back to let the woman enter. “Did you know Logan has been ill?”

“What other reason could I have for making this journey?”

Sibyl tried to forgive the woman's irritation. She could imagine how difficult the journey must have been for a woman who, from the clothes she wore, was used to wealth, privilege, and a life completely different from anything she would find in Cactus Corner. Sibyl struggled to find something to say. “The doctor has been to see him this morning. Would you like to speak to him?”

“Elliot was a patient of the finest doctor in Chicago. Why should I want to speak to a doctor in this place?”

Whatever sympathy Sibyl had for this woman vanished. “You don't need to speak to anyone, me included. You can go straight back to Chicago. If Logan wants to get in contact with you, I'm sure he will.”

Apparently realizing she'd gone too far, Bridgette unbent a little. “I'm sorry if I seem less than civil, but I've never suffered so much in my life as I have on the journey from Chicago. And the whole time I've been worried sick about Elliot. He has a mansion staffed with servants whose only job is to take care of him. He's a wealthy businessman and respected member of Chicago society. Why would he come out here?”

Her disclosure stunned Sibyl, but on reflection she realized she shouldn't have been too surprised. She had known Logan was more than the drifter he pretended to be, but she'd never imagined anything like this. “Only
Logan
can answer that.” Maybe it was stubbornness, but she refused to call him Elliot.

“I want to see him immediately.”

“He's sleeping. He's recovering from a particularly severe attack. Where are you staying?” There was only one hotel in Cactus Corner, and Sibyl owned it.

“At the only hotel in town.” Bridgette's scornful tone indicated her opinion of her accommodations.

“Maybe you should go back and wait. I'll let you know when the doctor says it's okay to see Logan.”

“I came over a thousand miles to see the man who's to become my husband. I won't be able to rest until I've seen Elliot.”

The word
husband
caused Sibyl's throat to constrict. That was much more stunning than learning Logan was wealthy or that he was a member of society, but she pulled herself together.

“I'll speak to the doctor. Make yourself comfortable here.”

The moment Sibyl left the parlor, her backbone seemed to dissolve, leaving her weak and nauseated. It took all her willpower to summon the courage to face the doctor. She was thankful he was waiting in her sitting room rather than the parlor.

“What nosy neighbor was that?” the doctor asked when she entered the room.

“No neighbor,” she managed to say. “A woman who calls herself Bridgette Lowe. She says she's engaged to Elliot Lowe. She also says Logan's real name is Elliot Lowe.”

The doctor was suddenly rigid with attention. “Has she come all the way from Chicago?”

“That's what she says. And she's dressed like it. She certainly wouldn't have traveled this far if she wasn't telling the truth.”

“There's one way to find out,” the doctor said. “Ask Logan.”

Sibyl knew that. What she didn't want to admit was she was afraid of what she might hear. Why had she let herself fall in love with a man she knew nothing about? “She says Logan is a wealthy businessman, a respected member of society with a mansion full of servants. If that's true, why would he have come to Cactus Corner? I know. I should ask Logan,” she said before the words could come out of the doctor's mouth.

“I'm surprised you didn't go straight to him instead of coming to me,” the doctor said.

“I needed time to absorb the shock.”

“And the realization that you've fallen in love with a man who's lied about himself.”

Sibyl wasn't ready to admit that yet. She didn't know much about Logan's past, but she didn't believe he was a liar. Why would he? He didn't need money. If he was dying, what could he have to gain?

“Do you want me to go with you?” the doctor asked.

“Thanks, but I'm not some weak female who's afraid of the truth. Okay, I am afraid I'll hear something I won't like, but I won't hide. I've done that for too long.”

“I'll go talk to your visitor,” the doctor said. “I'd like to know what kind of woman travels over a thousand miles through Indian country to chase down a man who apparently doesn't want to marry her.”

As she climbed the steps to Logan's bedroom, Sibyl could easily understand why a man like Logan would want to marry a woman like Bridgette. She was beautiful and she was young. If her clothes and attitude were anything to go by, she was exactly the right kind of wife for a man who was a wealthy, respected member of Chicago society. How could Sibyl compare to such a woman? Why should Logan be in love with her?

Or Elliot! What a terrible name! How could any man let himself be called that for over thirty years?

She paused when she reached Logan's bedroom door. Her nerve threatened to leave her. She wished Naomi and Laurie could be with her. Yet in the same instant she knew she preferred to face this alone.

“Come in,” Logan called to her knock. He smiled broadly when she entered the room and propped himself up against his pillow. “I didn't expect to see you until the afternoon. The doctor said I had to sleep, or he'd give me something to make me.” He stopped, his smile gone, his gazed focused on her. “What's wrong? You look upset.”

It was so like him to sense her mood right away. It was one of the things that had drawn her to him. “You have a visitor,” she told him. “A woman.”

Logan smiled. “I'm surprised Cassie isn't right behind you. Where is she?”

“It isn't Cassie. She says her name is Bridgette Lowe.”

The swelling sometimes made it difficult to see Logan's expression, but there was no mistaking the anger that flashed in his eyes. He pulled himself up until he was sitting erect. “I told that Pinkerton to tell her I was never going back to Chicago. She had no reason to follow me.”

“She says she's your fiancée. Why shouldn't she follow you?”

“She's not my fiancée. I broke the engagement when the doctor told me I had three months to live.”

The relief that flooded through Sibyl was so great she sank down in a chair. There was still a lot she needed to know, but at least Logan hadn't been engaged to another woman when he said he loved her. “If she loves you—”

“Bridgette may like me, but it's my money she loves. I should have told you about her before, but I never thought to see her again.”

“Did you love her?” Right now, that was more important than anything Logan could tell her.

“No, and she never loved me. Her father was my father's brother. When he died and left Bridgette in a bad way, it was sort of assumed I would marry her. When I found out I was going to die, I released her from our understanding and made sure she was taken care of. Then I left Chicago.”

“Then why is she here?”

“Money. Do you think anything else would make her leave Chicago to come to Arizona? She thinks she should have inherited all of her uncle's money. She has always considered me an interloper.”

“What do you want me to tell her?”

“I don't want you to tell her anything. You'd better send her up.”

“The doctor said you were to rest.”

“Neither of us will get any rest as long as Bridgette Lowe is in Cactus Corner.”

* * *

Logan told himself he was a fool not to have made a will before he left Chicago. He'd always intended to leave Bridgette most of the money, but he'd put off making a will as long as there was the possibility Jared Smith might be his brother. Now he was in a quandary. He didn't know enough about his brothers to know if they could use his money, and he wanted to give Sibyl and Kitty something. Then there was Cassie, who had a son to support, and Horace, trying to raise a family on a bank teller's salary. He needed to make up his mind while his mind was relatively clear.

How like Bridgette to walk in without knocking first.

“What are you doing in this town?” she asked. “And in this house?”

“I should be asking you those questions.”

“I'm here because you're my fiancé, and you're sick.” She reached into her reticule. “I brought you some more medicine.”

“You lied to Sibyl. Everybody in Chicago knows I'm not your fiancé. You never cared enough to visit me after I got sick while I was still in Chicago. As I recall, your excuse was that you were afraid you might get sick, too.”

“How could I know? James had no idea what was wrong with you. Besides, he kept me informed of your condition so I had no need to see for myself.”

Logan had agreed to marry Bridgette because he felt sorry for her. Her mother had died when she was a child, and her father was a drunken fool who treated her like a servant. Logan's father had tried to look out for his niece, giving her money when she needed it and intervening when her father was at his worst. She'd had a difficult life, but Logan's father had left his niece money in his will. She could live comfortably if she was careful.

But Bridgette had too much of her father in her to do that. She was greedy and ungrateful. She wouldn't hesitate to marry a sick, disfigured man she didn't love, especially if he would die soon, and she would have all of her uncle's fortune.

“Go back to Chicago, Bridgette. There's nothing you can do here.”

“I can't go back and leave you in this godforsaken place. I couldn't forgive myself.”

“You don't have to stay because of the money. I plan to leave you more than enough to take care of you for the rest of your life.”

“I'm not here because of the money. I came because you're sick, and you need someone to take care of you. I'm taking you back to Chicago. James has promised not to leave your side until you're better. We'll hire nurses and anything else you need.”

“I'm not going back to Chicago. I have a perfectly good doctor here, and Sibyl can provide all the care I need.”

Bridgette stared at him in disbelief. “You must really be sick if you prefer a sawbones in a place like this to a man of James's reputation.”

“James has already told me he's done all he can do, that I have only weeks to live. I doubt even a
sawbones
can do any harm.”

“I spent the last fifteen minutes talking to him.” Bridgette's voice was thick with scorn. “He's more interested in gossip than in figuring out how to cure you. You ought to be thankful I brought some new medicine.”

“You shouldn't have wasted your money. All any of the medicines I've taken do is make me sick without making me better. I've decided not to take the pills any longer.”

Bridgette went so white he thought she might faint. “You've got to take your medicine.” She held out a small bottle to him. “This is a new prescription. James is certain this one will make you better.”

Logan had never been under the illusion that there was any love between him and Bridgette, but how could she appear so devastated if she didn't care for him? She looked like she might burst into tears any minute.

“Please, Elliot, you've got to take it,” she pleaded. “What will I do if you die?”

“You'll have enough money to do whatever you want.”

Some of her panic seemed to abate. “How can I inherit anything when you don't have a will? Your lawyer said I wasn't a relation since Uncle Samuel didn't adopt you officially.”

“I'll make a will soon. There are a few people here in Cactus Corner I want to include.”

Bridgette tried to hide it, but Logan spotted the flash of anger in her eyes. Her jaw tightened. “Why would you want to leave money to anyone here? They aren't related to you, and you don't know them.”

“Actually, they are. I found both my brothers. They have families of their own.”

Now there was no mistaking the anger mixed with fear. “How can you be sure? You haven't seen them in more than thirty years. They're probably just after your money.”

That caused Logan to laugh. “I haven't told either of them yet. Besides, everyone here thinks I'm a penniless drifter who is so poor he has to live in a tent in the woods.”

“Elliot, none of this makes sense. You are a wealthy man with a house full of servants, the best doctor in Chicago, and me to take care of you. Your recovery is our only concern. You'll get the finest care available anywhere. Please come back to Chicago with me.”

“Going back to Chicago is what doesn't make sense. I'd probably die before I got there. I'm happy here, and there are people here who will take care of me.”

“Does that include the woman who owns this house?”

Jealousy and anger aren't an attractive pair. They make the eyes go hard, the facial muscles tighten, and the voice become harsh. They also cause you to forget the positive impression you were trying to make. If Bridgette had been a cat, Logan would have expected to see her claws.