wasn’t ready to sleep—he was keyed up from supper with Briana and the telephone conversations with his brothers and looking at all those old pictures. Like his computer gear, his TV hadn’t arrived yet, not that he would have watched it, anyhow. He just missed having the option.
He found his duffel bag, ferreted through it for thespy-thriller he’d bought somewhere along the way home and stretched out on the sleeping bag on the floor of his old room.
The ranch house might have been about to fall down around his ears, but it was big. He and Dylan and Tyler had each had a room to call their own, though when he was little, Ty had often sneaked in in the middle of the night and curled up on the rug next to Logan’s bed, much as Sidekick might have done if there’d
been
a bed. Let alone a rug.
The recollection choked Logan up all over again and, as lonesome as he felt, he was glad it was just him and Sidekick. If somebody had been around to ask him what was wrong, he might have broken down and told them.
Or just plain broken down.
Sidekick curled up close against his legs.
Logan opened the book, found his place and read.
At some point, he fell asleep, but all night long, the ghosts kept poking him awake. Once, knowing he was dreaming, he’d seen Jake—the prime-of-his-life Jake, from the album—peek in at him from the hallway, smile and shut the door again.
In the morning, letting the dog out and then back in, starting the coffee brewing, he recalled the dream as clearly as a mystic would recall a visitation.
“Why couldn’t you love us, old man?” he asked the sunrise, standing on the back porch andwatching fingers of peach-colored light reach over the eastern hills.
He didn’t know the answer, but he had a theory.
Jake Creed hadn’t loved his wives, or his children, because he hadn’t loved himself.
T HE FENCING CONTRACTOR and his crew arrived at seven, just as Logan was finishing breakfast, and started work. The freight truck came at nine-thirty, to Sidekick’s great excitement, and two men got out to unload Logan’s computer, camera gear, books, bed and dressers, clothes and assorted household stuff.
He was on the bedroom floor with a screwdriver, setting up the metal frame that would hold the mattress and box springs, when he heard voices out in the living room.
Sidekick, a little slow on the uptake when it came to guard-dogging, rose to his haunches and gave a tentative bark.
“Logan?”
He recognized the voice. It was Josh, Briana’s older boy.
“In here!” he called. “End of the hall, on the right!”
Footsteps pounded along the wide corridor, and Josh and Alec appeared in the open doorway, flanked by Wanda.
“Everything okay?” Logan asked. Given the time, their mother was probably working. Did these kids run loose all day, on their own, with only a fat old dog for protection?
You did,
said a voice in his mind.
The reminder made him smile.
“Sure,” Alec said. “We just came to visit, that’s all. It’s okay, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” Logan replied. “It’s okay provided your mom doesn’t object.”
The boys exchanged guilty glances.
Logan decided to pretend he hadn’t noticed. “Did youcome through the orchard?” he asked casually, concentrating on turning the last screw. Tonight, he’d be sleeping in his own comfortable bed. Things were looking up.
“Nope,” Alec said helpfully. “Mom said there might be bears, or Cimarron might get loose and charge us, so we took the main road.”
“Maybe you ought to call your mother at work. Let her know where you are.”
“We’re not supposed to bother Mom unless one of us is bleeding or we smell smoke,” Josh said.
“That’s reasonable,” Logan answered, getting to his feet. “Let’s go see how the new fence is coming along, then we’ll rustle up some lunch.”
The boys looked delighted.
Spotting his cell phone on the mantel as they entered the living room, which was piled with boxes from the freight
He found his duffel bag, ferreted through it for thespy-thriller he’d bought somewhere along the way home and stretched out on the sleeping bag on the floor of his old room.
The ranch house might have been about to fall down around his ears, but it was big. He and Dylan and Tyler had each had a room to call their own, though when he was little, Ty had often sneaked in in the middle of the night and curled up on the rug next to Logan’s bed, much as Sidekick might have done if there’d
been
a bed. Let alone a rug.
The recollection choked Logan up all over again and, as lonesome as he felt, he was glad it was just him and Sidekick. If somebody had been around to ask him what was wrong, he might have broken down and told them.
Or just plain broken down.
Sidekick curled up close against his legs.
Logan opened the book, found his place and read.
At some point, he fell asleep, but all night long, the ghosts kept poking him awake. Once, knowing he was dreaming, he’d seen Jake—the prime-of-his-life Jake, from the album—peek in at him from the hallway, smile and shut the door again.
In the morning, letting the dog out and then back in, starting the coffee brewing, he recalled the dream as clearly as a mystic would recall a visitation.
“Why couldn’t you love us, old man?” he asked the sunrise, standing on the back porch andwatching fingers of peach-colored light reach over the eastern hills.
He didn’t know the answer, but he had a theory.
Jake Creed hadn’t loved his wives, or his children, because he hadn’t loved himself.
T HE FENCING CONTRACTOR and his crew arrived at seven, just as Logan was finishing breakfast, and started work. The freight truck came at nine-thirty, to Sidekick’s great excitement, and two men got out to unload Logan’s computer, camera gear, books, bed and dressers, clothes and assorted household stuff.
He was on the bedroom floor with a screwdriver, setting up the metal frame that would hold the mattress and box springs, when he heard voices out in the living room.
Sidekick, a little slow on the uptake when it came to guard-dogging, rose to his haunches and gave a tentative bark.
“Logan?”
He recognized the voice. It was Josh, Briana’s older boy.
“In here!” he called. “End of the hall, on the right!”
Footsteps pounded along the wide corridor, and Josh and Alec appeared in the open doorway, flanked by Wanda.
“Everything okay?” Logan asked. Given the time, their mother was probably working. Did these kids run loose all day, on their own, with only a fat old dog for protection?
You did,
said a voice in his mind.
The reminder made him smile.
“Sure,” Alec said. “We just came to visit, that’s all. It’s okay, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” Logan replied. “It’s okay provided your mom doesn’t object.”
The boys exchanged guilty glances.
Logan decided to pretend he hadn’t noticed. “Did youcome through the orchard?” he asked casually, concentrating on turning the last screw. Tonight, he’d be sleeping in his own comfortable bed. Things were looking up.
“Nope,” Alec said helpfully. “Mom said there might be bears, or Cimarron might get loose and charge us, so we took the main road.”
“Maybe you ought to call your mother at work. Let her know where you are.”
“We’re not supposed to bother Mom unless one of us is bleeding or we smell smoke,” Josh said.
“That’s reasonable,” Logan answered, getting to his feet. “Let’s go see how the new fence is coming along, then we’ll rustle up some lunch.”
The boys looked delighted.
Spotting his cell phone on the mantel as they entered the living room, which was piled with boxes from the freight
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