“Yeah. A lot of my dreams are for my brother now, I guess.” Logan lifted his foot, resting it on the front of the sleigh. “Who knows what he’ll do with them.”
“He may have his own plans, but at the same time, he should be thankful that you have wishes for him. I think that kind of involvement in your brother’s life speaks well of you.”
“Yeah, well, he doesn’t seem to want the same things I do,” he said, sighing lightly. “I’m working myself to nothing trying to make sure this kid gets all the breaks I didn’t get, and he doesn’t even want to take advantage of them and the natural talent he has that could get him out of here.”
Sarah knew he was speaking from his own youth. “Was it hard for you? Growing up a Carleton?”
“Only when I was around your father. Or when I would hear stories from my father about your father.” Logan leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, his clasped hands hanging between them. “Sorry, Kitten, but our family has a complicated history.”
He gave her a rueful glance. “And I don’t want to talk about that now. I don’t want your father to interfere again. With us.”
Us. The single word created a storm of feelings in Sarah. “I didn’t know there was an us.”
“At one time there was.”
Sarah wasn’t sure she wanted to follow Logan’s lead—to head in the direction his conversation was going. Instead she sat back, letting the silence surround them like a gentle blanket of forgiving. When no words were spoken, no mistakes could be made.
The horses shifted and blew as the moment drew out. One glanced back as if to ask Logan what was happening. But Logan didn’t move. Didn’t speak.
Normally Sarah felt uncomfortable in silence, experiencing a need to fill it with words, to create a connection with communication.
Though she was fully aware of Logan sitting beside her, a gentle peace surrounded them. As she settled in the sleigh, the blanket around her shoulder slipped off. She reached to straighten it at the same time Logan caught it.
She glanced sidelong at him and caught him watching her.
And the wide-open spaces suddenly narrowed down to his hand on her shoulder, their gazes melding, their frozen breath combining in an ethereal mist.
“Sarah…” Logan whispered.
She was going to be smart. She wasn’t going to give in to the feelings of uncertainty that tantalized her. That hovered on the edge of emotions that threatened to pull her in.
But she couldn’t look away and didn’t want to. For the first time since she had returned to Millars Crossing, they were in a place of solitude, with no fear of people nearby watching, judging. Sarah had no other eyes through which she could see her and Logan.
Just hers.
And then his hand slipped behind her head as if to anchor it, and his face drew near, his breath warm on her lips. He waited, giving her an opportunity to pull back or to stop him.
An onslaught of inevitability rushed over her. A feeling that everything she had done, every decision she had made had brought her to this place with Logan. If she bridged the gap, completed the circle, everything would change. She could stop this now.
But even as those thoughts spun and wove their faint warning, Sarah felt something inside of her shift, and she knew this was right.
She moved those last few inches and, as their lips met, cool at first, then warming, Sarah felt she hovered on the threshold of a new and yet familiar happiness.
Chapter Twelve
Logan drew back and rested his forehead against hers, his eyes a dark blur against his face.
“It’s been a long time, Sarah,” he whispered.
Sarah pulled her mittens off and cradled his face with her hands. In spite of the chill of the air his cheeks felt warm to the touch. She traced the shape of his mouth, as if learning him by Braille.
“Lots has happened since we were together.” She let her fingers drift down to his chin, then touched the new lines at the corner of his mouth.
“Did you miss me?” he asked.
Her harsh laugh was the barest glimpse into the eight lonely years she had spent away from him. “I thought of you every day.”
Logan leaned back against the seat, taking her with him, tucking her head under his chin, holding her close. “You never phoned. Wrote.”
His voice rumbled under her cheek as she settled against him, her hand on his heart. Through the material of his denim jacket she felt the beat—steady, strong, and sure. “It was because of Marilee,” she replied. “She made it sound as if she was going to meet you. As if she was going out with you.”
Logan brushed a strand of hair away from her forehead. “I wish you would have asked me right away. I could have told you.”
“When? How? Marilee’s death was like a huge boulder dropped into a pond. The resulting waves completely swamped my life.” Sarah curled her fingers, catching them on a button flap of his jacket as her mind unconsciously went back to that evening. “When the police came to tell me about that car accident she was in with Denise. When they told me that she had died…” Sarah stopped. Caught her breath.
Logan’s arms tightened, granting her a safe harbor. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that.” He stroked the top of her head with his chin, slowly, slowly.
“You know pain and loss. You lost someone you loved too,” she whispered, clutching his shirt with her hand. “You lost your father.”
“But I had my mother and my brother and friends to help me through that. You were all alone in a strange place.” He sighed. “I wanted to see you. Wanted to talk to you. In fact, I even went to one of your college games.”
This made Sarah pull back, surprised. “When?”
“About two years ago. You were playing in Calgary. I drove down.”
“But you never talked to me…you didn’t come…”
He shrugged and tucked her hair behind her ears, his eyes intent on his hand. “Your uncle and cousins were there. I didn’t want to interfere. And I wasn’t sure where I stood with you. So I slunk back home.”
He smiled, his teeth white in the semidarkness. “But it was great watching you play.”
What ifs and maybes hung between them. If he had come to her, if he had talked to her. If she had picked up the phone…
Maybe things would have been different. Maybe they would each be in a different place now.
And what place would that have been?
Sarah leaned forward, caught his face in her hands, pulled him close and kissed him as if erasing those questions.
Logan looked momentarily startled, then a smile lit up his face. “You continue to surprise me,” he said with a chuckle.
She gave him an answering smile. “What did you expect? You had this all planned.”
“Well, I wanted to talk where nobody would see and report back to your dad. I’m sure he would have something to say about this.”
“I’m sure he would, if he knew.” Sarah drew back, her eyes on the horses standing quietly now. “Or as much as he could say, given his disability.”
“What has he been saying?”
Sarah unfolded the mittens, folded them again, wondering what to tell him, how much she wanted to open up to him. But when she looked up and saw the concern in his face, her self-control wavered. “He said he forgave me,” she said.