Logan’s heart pushed against his chest. Not again.
“See, this is where we’re already having a problem, Mrs. Westerveld,” Logan said, aiming for a casual tone. “I don’t have any kind of hold on Sarah. She’s free to do as she pleases. As she always has been.”
A momentary pause hung between them. It ended with a light sigh that sent a riffle of foreboding over his surface calm.
“Sarah has never been free to do as she pleases. Sarah has spent a large portion of her life trying to do as her father pleases. You know as well as I do that Sarah’s relationship with her father is complicated. For the first time in her life, Frank is truly acknowledging Sarah as his daughter. You know how important this is to her. You know how she has longed for Frank to be a true father to her.”
“And what does this have to do with me?”
“I understand she’s been spending more time with you.”
“And your point being?”
He felt a surge of sympathy for Sarah. Having an aunt like Tilly.
“She hasn’t been visiting Frank. Just as things seem to be turning around for them. I…I mean, we, are hoping they can find some kind of reconciliation. And much as I hate to ask, I know you have some pull with her.”
Logan thought of Frank’s bizarre absolution of Sarah. Frank’s twisted devotion to Logan’s mother.
“Sarah has her own struggles with her father that have nothing to do with me. I’m not keeping her away from Frank. She is choosing to stay away.”
“Why would she do that?”
“Maybe you better ask her.”
“Well, I’m talking to you now and all I’m asking is that you give her some space and time.”
“I would think that the eight years we spent apart is enough space and time.” He pushed down a beat of annoyance. “And I don’t need to give her something she has every right to choose for herself.”
“I know you care for Sarah,” Tilly said, ignoring his outburst. “I know you cared for her eight years ago and I’m sure you care for her now. Sarah hasn’t been to see her father for some time. Maybe you could speak to her about her father. Encourage her to visit him again. Give her space so that she can establish her relationship with him. I know it would be good for her.”
“I care for her too, Tilly. A lot. I always have. I will always do what is best for Sarah.”
“I know, Logan. All we’re asking is that you give her some time, and now I see I’ve taken up enough of yours. Give my greetings to your mother.”
Logan ended the conversation and dropped the phone on the desk. He laced his fingers behind his head as he struggled to contain his own frustrated anger. With that last line, did Tilly know something about Frank’s feelings toward his mother? Did any of the town know?
Logan leaned back in his chair, his thoughts slipping back to the conversation he’d overheard between Ted and Frank.
From the moment Logan had heard what Frank had done, or rather hadn’t done, his anger had burned hard and hot. Buying the contract from Crane became more than a business decision: it became a way of getting in Frank Westerveld’s face.
Now it seemed other emotions had worked themselves into the mix and were growing more important than his original reason.
Sarah.
Each time he saw her it was as if pieces of the eight years that had separated them fell away. Old assumptions that had created such strong barriers had been brushed aside. Some of his overall anger had subsided.
He thought of the vague comment she had made the other day in the sleigh. She wasn’t going to stay, of that he felt certain.
Was this worth it? Was she worth it? Surely he could find another girl who had a less complicated past, who would cause fewer problems for him.
Tilly’s call underlined the fact that Sarah and her father had unfinished business. Whether Sarah wanted to admit it or not, Frank Westerveld was not going away.
And for Logan that meant if he got involved with Sarah, Frank came with.
Sarah dropped her bags of groceries on the kitchen table, the welcome warmth of the house easing away the chill from outside.
The bags held enough food for a week, as far ahead as Sarah had been planning lately. Inside one of the bags was a package of large trash bags to hold the stuff from Marilee’s room.
She had talked herself carefully around the decision, weighing, considering. Logan’s words kept resounding through her head.
He was right. The room was like a shrine to a person long gone. And today she was going to do something about it.
She pulled the package of trash bags out, holding it in her hand, a few second thoughts teasing the back of her mind. Should she? Did she have the right?
The doorbell broke into the moment. Logan? Already? She ran to the door, expectation hurrying her feet, and opened it, only to have her expectations doused.
Uncle Ted.
“Sarah, how are you doing?” he asked, his voice booming as he stepped into the house. “I haven’t talked to you for a while.”
Sarah closed the door behind him and held her hand out for his coat. “Do you want some coffee?”
“No, honey. I’m on my way home. I just came back from the hospital though.” He pulled his boots off and walked inside with the ease of someone familiar with the place. He glanced around and Sarah felt as if she should scurry through the house, tidying the magazines and books she had been reading. He gave her a wide smile. “Place looks lived in, Sarah. That’s good. All you need now is some Christmas decorations. I think your dad has some in the attic.”
“I suppose they would be nice.” Sarah hadn’t considered decorations. That had always been Marilee’s department.
Her uncle crossed his arms over his chest, tapping his index finger against his upper arm, as if considering what to say.
“So, you’re not coaching basketball anymore? I was sorry to hear that.”
Well, that was classic Uncle Ted. Get right down the nitty-gritty. “That’s okay, I’ve been keeping myself busy,” she said carefully.
“Not busy visiting your father.”
His blunt words plowed up the guilt Sarah had tried to bury. The past few days it had been pushing itself more and more to the surface and she knew she had to face it sometime. “Do you want to know why?” she asked, taking an offensive tack, crossing her arms herself.
“I stopped by to find out.”
“We had a fight.” Those four concise words could not begin to cover the magnitude of what had happened to her, but she didn’t know how else to proceed.
“What about?” His frown wrinkled his forehead, making him look more intimidating than he was.
“He said…he said he forgave me. For Marilee. As if it was all my fault.” Sarah stopped there, before her voice faltered.
Uncle Ted’s sigh echoed Sarah’s own hurt and frustration. “Oh, honey. Tact has never been a Westerveld’s strong point.”
Then, to her surprise, he crossed the distance between them and pulled her into an awkward hug, his bulky coat pushing up against her cheek. He patted her on the head, then released her as if his duty was now done.
Sarah suppressed a sigh at her uncle’s expression of the very thing he just said. “This is more than an untactful comment, Uncle Ted. It was cruel and harsh and uncalled for.”