Forever and Always (28 page)

Mae eyed him with speculation in her gaze. “There are times you're so sick you can hardly stand up, but somehow I think you'll find a way to convince him.” Her mouth twisted in a grin. “I see you've brought your pistol.”

Logan was well aware of the weight of the pistol in a holster at his side. It made him self-conscious. He hadn't worn a gun since his days on the Santa Fe Trail. “I don't intend to use it.”

“A silent persuader?”

“Maybe.”

Mae nodded. “Too bad you weren't in Kentucky eight years ago.”

“Why then?”

“Sibyl wouldn't have married Norman Spencer.” With that, Mae stepped aside and went on her way.

Taking only a moment to recover from the shock of knowing that apparently everybody knew of his feelings for Sibyl, Logan quickly reached the hotel.

“I think he's in his room,” the clerk told Logan. “I haven't seen him come down, but he sometimes uses the back entrance.”

Logan preferred to meet the major in private. It would be easier for both of them. The major answered his knock, but he was clearly not happy when he saw who was at the door.

“I'm not letting you in,” he said, “not with that gun. You nearly killed me the last time.”

“I've never killed anyone by mistake,” he said—a statement that didn't reassure the major. Logan pushed his way into the room and closed the door. “I've come to talk, not to shoot you.”

“Why am I supposed to believe that?”

“Because I told you so. My father taught me that a man of honor never breaks his word.”

“And how do I know you're a man of honor?”

“Because I didn't shoot you the first time.”

The major didn't look convinced, but he said, “Why are you here?”

“To tell you there's nothing to find out about Raymond Sinclair's death that you don't already know, and that it's time for you to leave Cactus Corner.”

“I think that's for me to decide. Besides, you're a civilian. You have no control of anything the army might do.”

“Maybe you've forgotten that we have telegraphs even in remote places like the Arizona Territory. While you were stomping around Fort Verde trying to throw your influence around, Jared Holstock asked the commander of the fort to telegraph the general in charge of the army in Kentucky to ask about the progress of the investigation.”

The major lost some color and a lot of his attitude.

“The investigation was closed years ago. The official report says that Raymond Sinclair and a friend stole an army payroll and deserted. Their horses were found far away from Spencer's Clearing. They were not together, and there was no sign of the men. There was also no sign that they had ever been in Spencer's Clearing. Do you know what that means?”

The major didn't answer.

“I'll tell you what it means.” Logan didn't try to hide the menace in his voice. “It means this is
not
an official investigation. It means you have no authority to be here or to question anyone. It means this is probably an investigation being paid for by Josiah Sinclair, but that you're using your military rank as a means to force people to answer your questions. I believe it means you don't plan to leave until you get the kind of information Josiah Sinclair wants because he'll pay more for it.”

“You don't know that,” the major blustered, but his protests lacked conviction.

“It will be easy to verify,” Logan said. “I don't know your commanding officer—I expect you don't have one because you're retired—but that'll be easy to determine. Whether you're still in the army or not, I doubt they'll look kindly on your using them to squeeze information out of innocent people.”

“I don't think they're innocent.”

“What you think doesn't matter. The army's investigation does matter, and according to them, the investigation is closed. Now it's time for you to leave town.”

“You can't force me to do anything.”

“Have you ever heard of Lowe, Inc. in Chicago?”

“Of course. They do a lot of work with the army.”

“I own that company.”

“I don't believe you.”

“It doesn't matter what you believe because I can prove it. Do you know a Brigadier General Owen Scott?”

“Of course. He was in charge of an army division under General Grant.”

“He was Jared Smith's commanding officer. They're personal friends. He had Jared appointed marshal of the Territory. Jared Smith is my brother. His wife is Sibyl's cousin.”

The major looked shell-shocked.

“You have a choice. You can leave quietly, tell Josiah Sinclair there's nothing more to be learned, and you'll never hear from me again.”

“And if I don't leave?”

“I'll use every means I have to ruin you financially, socially, and politically. If Josiah Sinclair is unsatisfied with the official report, he should get the army to reopen its investigation. Until that happens, you have nothing to do here.”

“What can I tell Mr. Sinclair?”

“Have you found anything to add to the army's report while you've been here?”

“No.”

“Then that's what you'll tell him.”

“Would you have shot me if I'd refused to leave?”

“No. There are better ways to stop you without endangering myself. Now I'll leave you to pack. I'll tell the hotel clerk to have your horse ready. You will need to speak with Colby Blaine before you leave. Will an hour be enough time?”

“More than enough,” the major replied.

“Then I wish you a safe return journey.”

“Do you really hope I have a safe journey?”

“Certainly. That way there won't be any question that something could have happened to you here.”

* * *

“The major has left,” Colby said to Sibyl. “He told me he didn't believe anybody here knew anything about Raymond Sinclair's disappearance so there was no reason to stay any longer.”

Sibyl's sense of relief was so great she felt dizzy. She had dreaded having to see the major again. He had a way of making her feel guiltier than she did already. Logan's step-by-step logical reasoning of why she wasn't responsible for Raymond's death had helped, but it couldn't erase from her mind the horror of seeing her father kill the man she loved right before her eyes. That would remain with her forever.

“Do you believe him?” Logan asked.

“Why shouldn't I?” Colby wanted to know.

“I didn't like the way he questioned Sibyl. I got the feeling that even though he had no facts, he was certain she knew something she wasn't telling.”

“Maybe, but Jared says it wasn't an official investigation, that it was being done as a favor for Raymond's father.” Colby chuckled. “Your putting a bullet in his hat punched a hole in his enthusiasm for the job. The lack of support he got from the commander at Camp Verde must have finished it off. I think he was only too glad to decide that there was no information to be found here.” Colby turned to Sibyl. “I'm sorry you were put through this.”

“I'm just glad it's over. Raymond was very impetuous, but he was a nice man.” She wanted to tell Colby the truth. The community owed so much to him, she felt he had a right to know, but she knew she'd be trying to unburden her conscience rather than helping Colby. In fairness to him, she would have to bear this burden. But it helped that Logan knew.

Colby turned back to Logan. “You, Jared, and I have to decide what we're going to do about being brothers.”

“What do you mean?” Logan asked.

“Well, there's the question of having the same name. Who ever heard of three brothers with Blaine, Smith, and Lowe for surnames?”

“That's not a problem. I've already shed Lowe. What else?”

“Jared thinks we ought to go on a camping trip so we can sit around the campfire and catch up on our lives. I'd like to know what you were like when you were Peter's age. Not as wild, I hope. We might even go into business together. We've got to find some way to spend your money. Neither one of us wants it.”

Sibyl could have kissed Colby. She could see how much his acceptance meant to Logan. Even after telling Colby and Jared that they were brothers, Logan had been holding back. He'd told Sibyl that the next move was up to them. She was thrilled that Colby and Jared wanted to include Logan in their lives. She didn't know what they could do together, but that Colby would talk this way with a death sentence hanging over Logan showed that they really did accept him as their brother.

“You're welcome to come to the house any time you want,” Sibyl said, “but he's not going on a camping trip until he's much better.”

“He looks healthy to me,” Colby said.

“That's what I thought before the last attack,” Sibyl said. “I'm not taking any chances, and the doctor will back me up.”

“I'll have a horse below your window at midnight.” Colby pretended Sibyl couldn't hear him whisper. “I'll have you out of that bed and half the way to Prescott before she knows you're missing.”

“The moment you crack that window, Trusty will howl the house down,” Sibyl told him.

The dog, recognizing his name, raised his head. When nothing in the way of food or a threat was forthcoming, he put it down again.

“Then you'll just have to get well,” Colby told Logan. “Jared and I need a break from too much domestic bliss. I haven't had to swim a river or fight off Indians in years.”

The happiness in Logan's face caused warmth to flood through Sibyl. Colby had managed to make him feel included, genuinely accepted. Having been surrounded by family all her life, she was unable to comprehend the kind of loneliness these three men must have felt, but the extent of their happiness told her it must have been a long, bleak journey. These were men who feared nothing and backed away from no challenge, yet coming together as a family had reduced them to tears, had made them act like schoolboys. It was painful to think they might not be together much longer.

* * *

Logan didn't think there was any purpose it in, but he subjected himself to the doctor's examination. This had happened at least once a day since his attack, and the doctor hadn't done anything but shake his head and go away mumbling under his breath.

“I told you it was a waste of time,” Logan told him.

“It's my time, and I'll be the one to decide how I waste it.”

Taking care of Logan had had a negative effect on the doctor's temperament. He was famous for his ability to handle the most difficult patient, but he was more prone to snap at Logan than exercise his famous patience.

“Leave the doctor alone,” Sibyl said. “He's only trying to help you.”

“I know, but nothing can help me.”

“Don't say that. There must be something that will make you well. If anyone can find it, Dr. Kessling can.”

“You've been listening to Naomi again,” the doctor grumbled. “You'd think a man's own daughter would know he's not infallible.”

“Oh, she thinks you're very fallible,” Sibyl said with a smile that caused Logan's heart to skip a beat. “She just thinks you're the greatest doctor in the world.”

The doctor grunted, twisted his mouth from one side to another, and then looked up at Logan. “I don't understand it.”

“What don't you understand?”

“Your illness, or whatever it is.”

“My doctor in Chicago didn't understand it. Neither did all the doctors back east that he consulted.”

“That's not what I mean,” the doctor said.

“What do you mean?” Sibyl asked.

“I mean I haven't done a single thing. Prescribed no medicine and laid out no regimen. You've ignored my advice to stay in bed by going to work and letting these children treat your room like their own. You've got that Bridgette woman nagging at you at least once a day to go back to Chicago, and you've had the lawyers in here working on a will.”

“I can't stay in bed when I feel so much better,” Logan said.

“That's the point,” the doctor said. “You are better. In fact, I would say you're getting well.”

Logan's heart skipped a beat. Then another one. He refused to let himself believe it. There was too much he hoped for to have it snatched from his grasp. “What do you mean?”

“I'm not sure,” the doctor confessed. “I've said from the beginning it was like you were being poisoned, but not with a poison that would kill you. Or maybe not enough of the poison to kill you. I don't know. I've never seen symptoms like yours. At times you were strong enough to stop runaway horses. At other times you were too weak to stand up. It's like nothing is permanently damaged, just made too weak to function.”

“That doesn't make any sense.”

“That's what I've been saying,” the doctor said, his patience running out. “None of this makes sense.”

“But he is better?” Sibyl asked. She sat through every examination barely breathing until the doctor was finished.

“Definitely. And I don't see any reason why he should have a relapse.”

“He's cured?”

Her hope was so intense it hurt Logan. What if the doctor was wrong?

“I'd say he was on the way to a full recovery.”

The sense of relief, the flood of hope, was so enormous Logan was dizzy with it. He'd struggled so hard to accept his death that having to reverse all those feelings was disorienting. He couldn't let go of the fear just yet. He had to make sure before he let himself believe.

“How can you say that when you don't know what was wrong?” he asked the doctor.

“Because all the things that weren't working right before seem to be working right now. Your heartbeat is slower and regular. You're breathing without difficulty. You haven't complained of fatigue even though you've been working a full day.”