Page 15 of Final Escape
For a lifetime and a half, if his mother’s voice was any clue.
Logan ruffled the boy’s hair, wishing he dared give him a hug. Knowing it would be improper and even dangerous to offer that comfort. “She didn’t tell me. She only said that she’d be here in fifteen minutes to take you both home. Do you have a dog?”
“Mom doesn’t like dogs. They’re messy,” Robbie muttered.
“Want to see mine?” Logan held two fingers to his mouth and sent off a piercing whistle. A few seconds later, Murphy appeared at the door of the boathouse, blinked at the sunshine, then ambled over to sit at Logan’s feet.
“He’s just a lazy ole dog,” Robbie said.
“You think? Take a look.” Logan silently signaled and Murphy rolled over. “Ask him a simple math question. Kindergarten level.”
A smile glimmered on Danny’s face. “One plus two?”
Murphy waved his tail furiously, and with each of his three deep barks, the child’s smile grew.“Wow.”
Even Robbie was showing more interest now. “What else can he do?”
“Do you have a good arm for throwing?”
“Yeah.”
Logan searched the ground, picked up an old yellow tennis ball and lobbed it into a high, long-distance arc. The old Bernese tore across parking lot and was there to catch it as it fell.
Now all the boys were watching. One of the Nelson twins tried to intercept the dog when it returned, but it neatly circumvented him and stopped at Logan’s feet. Logan handed the ball to Robbie. “Give it a try. And don’t worry about throwing as high as I did—grounders are good, too. He’ll do this until he gets too tired.”
True to form, Murphy chased after the ball for Robbie several times, and then Danny, until both boys were grinning and cheering Murphy on.
“Nice job,” Carrie said quietly. “You handled that very well.”
Logan turned and found her perched on the top of a picnic table in front of the boathouse. He reined in his automatic flash of pleasure at seeing her there. “I didn’t know you were out here.”
“You were occupied. Very well, by the way. You could’ve been a great teacher. Or a counselor.”
“Thanks. I once thought about teaching at a university—livestock production or horse management, maybe. But...well, things changed at home and my sister and I both headed back to the family ranch after we graduated from college.”
“So where is home?”
“An hour or so from here.” He hitched his shoulder a little, brushing aside the raw memories of struggling to save the ranch. “My mother won a fierce battle with cancer, but my dad ended up having to sell out to pay off her medical bills.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be. She’s in remission, and my dad would’ve given the earth to make her well.”
“Where are they now?”
“Florida. She’d always dreamed of retiring there but never thought it possible. Now Dad manages a quarter horse breeding farm south of Tampa, and Mom has a part-time job in a gift shop. They say it’s like living a second honeymoon every single day.”
She smiled at that. “Sounds like a happy marriage.”
“It is.” He angled a rueful look at her. “Kinda hard to follow an act like that. They still hold hands at sixty.”
“So you’re one of those guys looking for perfection?” she teased.
“I’m just not looking,” he shot back, softening his words with a quick grin. But it was the truth. He’d stored away his wounded heart long ago, after Janie died, and he had no intention of getting into any conversations about it. How had they gotten ontothistopic?
He shifted uneasily, thankful to hear the sound of a vehicle coming up the lane. As it came into view, he could see Montana plates—and from the duet of groans from the two boys, knew it probably belonged to their mother.
The SUV pulled to a hard stop, and a slender woman stepped out, her jaw rigid. “Boys—get your bikes over here right now. We’ll put them in the back.”
