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Authors: Leigh Greenwood

BOOK: Forever and Always
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Sibyl took a moment to compose herself before turning to face Logan. “My husband was not the man I thought him to be when I agreed to marry him.”

Logan thought that was an unusual choice of words. Either a woman said
when I fell in love with him
or
when he asked me to marry him
.

“Both of our grandfathers founded Spencer's Clearing, but Norman's family always had more money than anyone else. Maybe it came from his mother. She was certainly disagreeable enough to have been born rich. In any case, all that money convinced Norman he was better than anyone else. He did many things that embarrassed me, some so appalling that Colby and others had to take a hand. It got to where I didn't want to know anything about the bank. Money was something Norman used to hold over people. Sometimes I almost wished we were poor.”

Logan could see that it was hard for her to admit this to him. He started to stop her, but she indicated that she had more to say.

“I'm sure there was something not quite right about that money, but I do know he wouldn't have granted those loans on such easy terms if my father hadn't known something Norman didn't want known. Whatever it was, Norman did what he promised even though it made him as cross as an old maid jilted at the altar. Now I've told you all I know. I hope you're satisfied.”

Logan wasn't satisfied any more than he believed Sibyl had told him all she knew, but whatever it was had happened long ago. Since Norman was dead, there was probably no way to learn the truth.

“I didn't mean to upset you,” he said. “There can be many perfectly acceptable explanations. I shouldn't have opened any of those ledgers without asking your permission. I was just trying to fill up the time until you returned. I apologize.”

Sibyl deflated almost immediately. “I shouldn't have gotten so upset. It bothers me that I don't know what Norman did over the years. It feels like I have something I don't deserve.”

“You're not responsible for anything your husband may have done,” Logan assured her. “From what I've seen of the people here, they feel the same way.”

“But I
feel
guilty.”

“You shouldn't. If we find a situation you can correct, I know you'll do it. Would your father have done any better?”

“My father is nearly as bad as Norman.” She caught herself. “I shouldn't have said that.”

“Why not? My uncle was a liar and a cheat. He was also a drunk and an abuser of anyone who wasn't as strong as he was. Should I think differently about him because he was my uncle and he's dead?”

“Of course not. It's just that it's hard when it's your father or your husband. You think you ought to have done something to change things.”

“You will if you find something that needs changing. You would deprive yourself before you'd do anyone an injustice.” Worried he'd said too much, Logan hurried on. “Now, what do you want to do today? I think we've done all we need to with the ledgers for the time being. At this point, I think we ought to start trying to come up with strategies to find new depositors and win back old ones. How do the other bank's funds compare to yours?”

“We have several times their assets.”

“Good. Then we have the advantage with anyone looking for large loans. Also, we can offer them lower interest rates.”

“I don't know. Colby says he's not interested in making a lot of money, just giving people a fair deal.”

“That's a perfect motto for you.”

“I can't steal that from Colby.”

“Has he used it?”

“No, but he doesn't run the bank. Naomi's brother Ethan and her father do.”

“Have they used it?”

“No.”

“Then it's fair game. I think we ought to print flyers with that slogan across the top as a banner. We can also advertise a range of interest rates lower than Ethan's. We can hire Colby to have his wagon drivers distribute them throughout the valley. Who handles the fort's accounts?”

“We handle the payroll, but the soldiers don't often come into town.”

“Then we'll open a branch at the fort that's open one day a week. I think Cassie would be perfect for that.”

Sibyl looked like she'd been steamrolled. A moment later she burst into laughter. “You're scaring me half to death. Nobody's ever done anything like that, not even Norman.”

“It's good to be ahead of the game.”

“Everybody will think I'm crazy.”

“No, they won't. They'll think you're the smartest businesswoman in the Territory.”

“But they're not my ideas. They're yours.”

“They're mine now, but you'll soon start coming up with more and better ideas. You just need to get your feet wet.”

“Wet! I feel like I'm drowning.”

“You're a strong swimmer. Now don't be faint of heart. Find a pen and paper. We've got some planning to do.”

Logan was delighted to see Sibyl so excited, so ready to throw herself into the job. He planned to do everything he could to keep her excited, but he wouldn't forget about that money. Something was wrong, and he was determined to find out what it was. Nothing—not the past, present, or future—was going to harm Sibyl Spencer as long as he could do anything about it.

* * *

“I don't know why you hide when you eat lunch,” Cassie said to Logan. “Nobody would make fun of you.”

Logan had taken to having his lunch in a shady ravine just outside of town. It had the advantage of being away from the prying eyes of adults and being one of the children's favorite haunts. They were curious about his face, but they accepted him just the way he looked. They thought Chicago was an exotic place, but lost interest when they discovered it was just a bigger version of Cactus Corner. They were concerned if he suffered a weak spell, but they forgot about it as soon as it was over. They would talk to him when they were bored or ignored him when playing was more fun.

And the things they told him! Several people would be shocked to know what the children had to say about them. Logan remembered everything and stored it away on the off chance he could use it to Sibyl's advantage.

“I'm not exactly hiding,” Logan replied. “I just like being with the children.”

“Little Abe likes your stories. Do you make them up?” Cassie's house was on the edge of town closest to the ravine. She had fallen into the habit of walking back to the bank with Logan.

“Only parts of them,” Logan confessed. “My father and I used to travel the Santa Fe Trail several times a year. I heard most of the stories from him or one of his friends. We didn't stop traveling until I was in my twenties.” He didn't like lying, which made it difficult to know how much to tell and how much to leave out. Cassie was a lot more perceptive than people expected of a woman with flashy good looks, so Logan tried to be careful what he said around her.

They turned into the dusty main street. Colby had convinced everyone to plant trees in their yards and along the road, but they weren't tall enough to provide much shade. Cassie used a parasol to protect her delicate skin. “Do you miss your home?”

Logan had been careful to give as little information as possible about his family. “Not really. After my father died, I didn't feel any attachment to it.”

“Don't you have friends back home who worry about you?” Cassie asked.

The men who worked for him cared only about their jobs and the income it provided. Bridgette wanted access to her uncle's money and was willing to marry him to get it, but did any one of them truly care for him? “No one who would miss me for very long.”

“That's sad,” Cassie said. “I didn't know any of the people who were in my father-in-law's wagon train when we left Independence. I wasn't very nice to them, but they didn't hesitate to take care of me when he and my husband were killed. After we got here, they made sure I had a house and a job. If I didn't show up at work, a dozen women would be on my doorstep wanting to know what was wrong. My own sisters couldn't have cared more for me.” She laughed. “Naomi loves me even though she wanted to strangle me when she thought I was after her brother.”

Just more proof of the emptiness of his former life. After his father died, all he had left was work. Had he ever been as cared for or as lighthearted as Cassie? She had lost her father-in-law, her husband, and was left to raise her son alone, but she was always cheerful, willing to help, and vigorous in defense of her friends. Had he ever felt that strongly about anything or anyone other than his father?

“What made you come to Cactus Corner?” Cassie asked. “It's got to be about as far from Chicago as you can get.”

It was easy to say he'd ended up there by chance, but Cassie was never satisfied with answers that didn't ring true. She had a way of pressing for information that was as hard to resist as it was difficult to resent. He was prevented from coming up with a suitable answer by the sound of a wagon approaching at a dangerous speed. He turned around, but the vehicle was out of sight around a bend in the road.

“Who can that be?” Cassie asked. “Nobody I know is dumb enough to drive that fast coming into town.”

Logan turned in the direction of town. He was horrified to see several children playing a game of hoops in the middle of the street. Like all children, they were so engrossed in their game they were paying no attention to their surroundings. If that wagon wasn't stopped, some of them could be hurt.

“It's a runaway!”

At Cassie's exclamation, Logan turned again to see a wagon pulled by two horses heading toward town at a gallop, a look of panic and fear in their eyes. There was no driver holding the reins, no one to stop their headlong flight down the center of the street. Throwing the remains of his lunch to the ground, Logan ran toward the oncoming wagon.

“Stop!” Cassie screamed. “You'll be killed!”

Logan had never tried to stop a team of runaway horses, but that didn't deter him. If he didn't stop them, some child would surely be hurt.

He couldn't run as fast as he used to, but he had to try. He couldn't fail to intercept the horses. The food he'd just eaten sat in his stomach like a solid weight. Cassie was running up the street, screaming at the children ahead. He hoped she would have time to warn them, but he couldn't take the chance. He had to reach the team of horses. Drawing on all his energy, he flung himself at the head of the horse nearest him.

The horse tried to veer away from him but was prevented by his teammate, who couldn't see Logan. That was the only reason Logan was able to grab hold of the leather strap running from the horse's collar to the singletree that connected with the wagon. Logan was immediately pulled off his feet and dragged dangerously close to the pounding hooves. Had he been younger and stronger, he might have been able to pull himself up and mount the horse, but that was out of the question. He would have to catch hold of the bridle to have any real chance of slowing the horses before they barreled into the center of town.

He cursed his weakness as he reached for and got a grip on the horse's collar. An agonizing pain shot through his leg where one of the horse's hooves struck him. For a moment he thought he was going to lose his grip, but he fought the pain. It didn't matter what kind of injury he might suffer. The children were more important than a leg he soon wouldn't have any use for.

He didn't know if he had any strength left. His weight had managed to slow the horse perceptibly, but it wasn't enough. Somehow he had to find the strength to reach for the bridle. Flecks of foam from the horse's mouth hit him in the face, blinding him. He couldn't free a hand to wipe it away. Blindly he reached for the bridle but only encountered the horse's sweat-soaked neck. He tried to dig his toes into the cut-up soil of the street, but the horses were too powerful. Terrified he would fail, he found the strength he needed to reach for and finally grab hold of the horse's bridle. The horse screamed in fury and slewed around so abruptly he pulled the second horse against him. That caused the wagon to swing in the opposite direction. The wheels caught in the dry dirt, and the wagon pitched onto its side, spewing its contents into the street. The horses, slowed abruptly by the overturned wagon, squealed and plunged about in their harnesses.

Fearful of being trampled, Logan held on to the bridle despite being tossed about like a rag doll. As he desperately tried to find the strength to fling himself out of range of fear-crazed animals, an iron-shod hoof struck his leg again. Gasping at the searing pain, he felt his grip on the bridle begin to slip. Frantically, he groped for the horse's collar, but he couldn't get a grip on it. He was falling. He was going to be trampled to death.

In the same moment he lost his hold on the bridle, he felt hands grab hold of him and pull him from under the hooves of the frantic horses.

“Are you insane?” the man asked. “It's a miracle you weren't killed.”

Logan wiped the foam from his eyes and looked up into the face of his birth father.

Six

For a moment, Logan thought he must have passed out. He had been four years old when his parents died, but his memory of them was vivid despite the passing of so many years. Though he was no artist, he'd tried to draw their portraits so he'd never forget them. They had invaded his dreams on nights when he'd felt particularly alone.

“Is he okay?” a woman asked.

“I can't tell,” the man said. “I've never seen anyone who looked like this.”

“Out of the way! Let me through!”

It was Cassie. Logan would recognize that voice anywhere.

“Logan! Logan, speak to me. Can you hear me?”

Logan pulled his attention from the man in front of him, focusing. “I'm all right, but I think my leg is broken.”

He could feel someone's hands on his leg.

“It's not broken, but you've got a nasty cut. I'll take you to Dr. Kessling.”

By now the street was full of people, most of them talking at once, but Logan was interested only in the man who'd just examined his leg. “Who are you?” he asked.

“I'm Colby Blaine,” the man said. “Do you have a death wish? You've got to be the craziest man I've ever met.”

Logan focused on the pain in his leg, the noise of the crowd, anything to prove he hadn't passed out or was dreaming. The face swam before him, taunting him with hope.

“He's not crazy,” Cassie declared. “He's the bravest man in the world. Those horses could have run over Little Abe if he hadn't stopped them.”

“He wasn't the only child in the street,” some woman said. “Without him, half the town would have been in mourning.”

Logan tried to get to his feet, but Colby restrained him. “You're not walking on your own until the doctor takes a look at that leg. His office is just up the street. I'll carry you.”

Logan tried to protest that he could walk, but he was unceremoniously picked up and carried in arms that were stronger than his own even before his illness. The adrenaline of excitement and exertion combined with the shock of seeing a man who looked like the memory of his birth father collided to make him feel dizzy and disoriented. The commotion around him just made it worse.

“Does anyone know who this man is?” Colby asked. “He looks like a drifter. What's his name, and what's he doing here?”

“I don't know why he's here,” Cassie said, “but his name is Logan Holstock.”

Logan could feel Colby's body tense.

“Holstock?”

Logan could only nod his head.

“That's my birth name,” Colby told him. “Where are you from? Who are your parents? Where is the rest of your family?”

Forestalling his curiosity, Cassie said, “He's from Chicago. He used to do something important there. He's helping Sibyl learn how to run the bank.”

“I was never important,” Logan managed to say. “I just know a few things that can help.”

“Sibyl swears he's a genius,” Cassie said. “She says she doesn't know what she would have done without him.”

Logan wanted to contradict Cassie so he could sink back into obscurity, but the weakness hit him so hard he had difficulty remaining conscious.

“I'm going to tell Sibyl,” Cassie said. “She'll want to know.”

Despite the dizziness, the weakness, and the confusion around him, he was acutely aware that he was in the arms of his brother. And Colby was Jared Smith's brother.

That meant Logan had found both his brothers.

The impact of that was so enormous it threatened to deprive him of what little mental capacity he had. Against all odds, he'd succeeded. He barely had time to process this information when he was carried inside a building and found himself facing another man he didn't know.

“He's got a bad cut on his leg,” Colby told the doctor. “He didn't break anything, but he probably needs stitches.”

Logan could tell that Kessling was the kind of doctor who inspired confidence in patients by his kindness as well as the intelligence in his expression. He just hoped his skills were equal to the promise of his demeanor.

“Let me look.” For a moment, the doctor's attention was more on Logan's face than his leg. “I'd like to talk to you about that,” he said before turning his attention to Logan's leg.

The cut proved to be deep enough to require stitches but not bad enough to immobilize him. He'd just managed to endure having the wound sewn up when Sibyl came hurrying into the doctor's office.

“I don't know why I have doors,” the doctor said. “They don't keep anything out but the flies.”

Sibyl ignored the doctor's sarcasm. “Are you hurt?” she asked Logan. “Cassie said you managed to stop a runaway wagon by yourself.”

“He was foolishly brave.” Colby had stayed while the doctor cleaned and sewed up Logan's leg. “Or crazy. I haven't decided which. And he still hasn't answered my questions about his family.”

Sibyl ignored him. “Weren't you afraid of getting killed?” she asked Logan.

“No.” That might sound like a lie, but it was the truth. It would have saved him a lot of suffering. In the same instant, he knew he didn't
want
to die. He knew beyond a doubt now that he had found his brothers. He wanted the chance to learn as much as he could about them and their families, even spend some time with them. It wouldn't be the same as letting them know he was their brother, but secrecy would allow him to be around them without the fear that they would see him as an unwelcome burden.

“I think he's crazy,” Colby said. “Anybody who tried what he did had to know he could get killed.”

“Why did you do it?” Sibyl asked.

“There were children in the road. There was nobody else to stop them.”

The doctor finished bandaging his leg. “You're fine to go now. Just take care of that leg and keep the wound clean. I'd like to see you in a couple of days. You don't look to be in good health, so the wound might have some trouble healing.”

“I'll be fine.”

“I'll make sure he's here,” Sibyl told the doctor before turning to Logan. “You
will
be here if I have to find your camp and drag you into town.”

“I'll help you,” Colby offered. “Peter and Esther were also in the street. Fortunately they had the good sense to look up when they heard Cassie's screams.”

Logan didn't waste his energy arguing. He was trying to gather the strength to walk out of the office on his own.

“I'd like to talk to you about that swelling in your face,” the doctor said.

“There's no use,” Logan said. “I've seen the best doctor in Chicago.” He could tell the doctor wasn't going to let it go at that, so he summoned his energy and struggled to his feet.

“Do you want some help?” Colby asked.

“I'm a little weak, but I'm fine.”

“I'll make sure he gets back to the bank,” Sibyl said.

“Why the bank?” Colby asked.

“That's where I work.”

“See that he doesn't chase any more runaway horses until that leg heals,” Colby said with a grin. “And I still want some answers to my questions.”

“Make sure he gets some rest,” the doctor said. “He doesn't look good.”

Logan managed to walk out of the doctor's office, where he was immediately set upon by a noisy crowd who were eager, one by one, to tell him how much they appreciated what he'd done. If he had his hand shaken and received tearful thanks once, it happened a dozen times. It didn't do any good to try to escape. He was surrounded.

“It's no use trying to act like you did nothing more important than catch a loose dog,” Sibyl said. “You saved several children from serious injury or worse.”

“Colby said they heard Cassie's screams.”

“Even if every child got out of the street in time, that doesn't diminish what you did,” one woman said.

“That's right,” said another. “We'll be thankful for what you did for as long as we live.”

Naomi came striding up. “Colby just told me what you did,” she said to Logan. “He may act like he thinks you were out of your mind, but he would have gone crazy if anything had happened to either of the twins. They'll be lucky if he lets them out of the house for the next week.”

“He'd better lock the windows and seal off the attic,” Logan said. “The Peter I know will try to take the side off the house to get outside.”

Naomi laughed. “He is a little wild, but he was so repressed before he came to us, we don't have the heart to keep him inside.”

Several women offered their opinions on Peter's high spirits. Not all of them were complimentary. While Naomi was making it clear no one was going to criticize her children within her hearing, Logan and Sibyl were able to slip away.

“I hear you're a hero,” Horace said the moment the bank door closed behind them. “I could never have done anything like that.”

“If you'd been where I was, you could have, and you would have,” Logan said.

“My brother, maybe, but not me.”

“No man knows what he's capable of until he's faced with a challenge where he has no choice.”

“Are you sure you're okay?” Sibyl asked when they reached the small room Logan used for an office.

“I'm just tired.”

“Why don't you go home? There's nothing you have to do today.”

“I just need to rest a bit.”

“I'm afraid you won't get much rest here. Now that everybody knows where you work, they'll be coming in all day. Some to thank you, others just to get a look. They'll insist on talking to you, thanking you, and telling you stories about their children or brave deeds they've performed or they know about. Today you're the most interesting person in Cactus Corner. It'll probably stay that way until something
more
interesting happens.”

“I don't like to leave before I've done my work. Besides, this will be an opportunity to try to convince people to deposit their money in your bank.”

“Logan, I'm not desperate enough to take advantage of you like that.”

“You won't be taking advantage of me but of the situation.”

“You can't talk your way around me that easily. I will not make money off your celebrity. I'm
ordering
you to leave early. If you feel guilty, we can figure out something else for you to do, but you're done for today. If you don't feel better tomorrow, take as much time as you need.”

Logan hated to admit it, but being ordered to leave was a relief. Now that the excitement had worn off, he felt too weak and exhausted to think. Besides, his leg was painful. It embarrassed him to be around people when he felt this way, especially Sibyl. It was foolish to worry about how he looked in her eyes, but that was something he couldn't change.

“Cassie is more responsible than I am for keeping those children safe.”

“Nobody's going to believe that as long as Cassie is doing her best to convince everybody there would have been a bloody tragedy if you hadn't stopped those horses. You might as well get used to it. You're a hero, Logan. Of course, you were already a hero to me.”

Logan was shocked when Sibyl reached out and grasped his hand. His gaze flew to hers, only to be stunned at what he saw. Yet he had to be mistaken. It was impossible that she could be attracted to him. His heart was beating so rapidly he was sure she could hear it. Fearful his feelings might betray him, he gently pulled his hand away. “I'm not a hero. I only did what anyone else would have done.”

“I know how you feel about people thanking you, but I get chills down my spine when I think Kitty could have been hurt. You are a remarkable man whether you believe it or not. Now go back to your camp and rest. I don't like to see you looking so exhausted.”

He wasn't remarkable. His hobby was target shooting. Before his illness, he'd practiced several days a week since he was a boy. As for the wagon, anybody could have done that. He just happened to be the one who was there, but he didn't have the energy to argue. Maybe he'd stay away for a day or two. That would give people time to forget him and think of something else, but he would come back soon. He didn't know how many days he had left, but he was beginning to realize he wanted Sibyl to be part of as many as possible.

* * *

“Who is that man?” Colby asked Sibyl. “And don't tell me he's a man named Logan Holstock.”

“I can't tell you much more,” Sibyl said. “He's been very secretive about his past.” She laughed. “I think the children know more about him than I do.”

Sibyl had spent the afternoon answering questions about Logan from at least half the inhabitants of Cactus Corner. Nearly all went away unsatisfied. She had dropped by Naomi's house to pick up Kitty on her way home. That's where Colby cornered her.

“He doesn't look strong enough to get out of his own way,” Colby said. “I can't imagine where he found the strength to stop those horses.”

“Neither can I, but he continues to surprise me.”

“Jared said he's living in a tent on the Mogollon Rim with some half-starved dog for company.”

“I've tried to get him to move into town, but he refuses.”

“I doubt he has the money.”

“He deposited over five hundred dollars in cash when he arrived. I know almost nothing about his past, but I'm sure he's not a thief or a vagrant. He's been a successful man in the past. I believe the illness that has distorted his face so badly is the reason he left Chicago. I know it's the reason he avoids people.”

“Then he'd better stop doing things that are bound to bring him attention,” Naomi said. “One more, and they'll erect a statue of him.”

“Naomi says you let him work in the bank with you. Are you sure that's safe?”

“How can you ask that after he saved my life and possibly the lives of your children?”

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