this way.”
This route was slightly longer than cutting across Railroad Avenue and then turning up Turkey Hollow Road to Main. But she walked it daily so she could see him. He’d often walk her home, then return to the office next to the hair salon or, on evenings when she was running late and he’d finished directing traffic, he’d simply walk her home and then head to the house next door to hers. Like her, Logan had never moved out of his childhood home. He and his dad, now a widower, lived in the big yellow farmhouse north of her mother’s place, a white, two-story home that had been there for a hundred and fifty years. Both farms had barns large enough to hold a few cows and a plot of pastureland behind that was big enough to keep them fed summer and winter. The cows had been moved out long ago, before Paige or Logan’s parents purchased their houses. Paige’s dad had been a dentist until his death in an automobile accident during her junior year in college. Logan had lost his mom just after he had turned eleven.
How old were Steven and Valerie Sullivan? Paige tried to remember Ed talking about their birthdays. Steven would turn fourteen this December, old enough to try out for the JV team next year. That made Valerie…eleven. The same age Logan had been.
The ache in her heart pulsed with every beat.
Those poor kids. She was glad they had Ursula. Their mom was strong and capable. She’d be there for her children.
Paige rested her head on Logan’s shoulder and her arms hung at her sides. He patted her back while she tried and failed not to long for more than comfort from him. She lifted her head to gaze up at his big brown eyes, looking again for a flicker of recognition. She went still as her body galloped to life. Everything inside her wanted him to kiss her. Except he didn’t. He never did. The top of her head did not count.
“Why don’t you think they’ll catch who did this?” he asked.
“I’m afraid I don’t have the faith in the system that you did. Do,” she corrected. “Never have.”
“If you hear anything, Paige, you should tell me.”
“I should,” said Paige. But she wouldn’t.
She felt she couldn’t rely on Logan anymore, ever since he’d left for Iraq years ago, not telling her he was reenlisting until it was too late.
Now all memory of her as the love of his life had been blown out of his thick skull.
After her dad died, she and her mom struggled financially, and she really didn’t know if she could finish her undergraduate degree. With no life insurance and in deep debt, her father had left her mother and Paige in dire straits, with only bankruptcy protecting their home.
Even so, it was her father and mother’s mess. Not hers; certainly not Logan’s. She’d told him that and that she’d figure it out. But Logan had done what he thought best. Without consulting her. Reenlisted and volunteered for the higher-paying combat duty. She could have strangled him then and now.
She had told him, at the time, that she believed life decisions that affected them both should be discussed. He thought her ungrateful. He said he was taking care of things. The disagreement that ensued had turned ugly and he’d asked for his ring back.
She’d been so shocked that he would break their engagement especially after her father had just passed away, but she had done as he asked and returned the diamond solitaire. Logan had left for Iraq and she had not seen him again until after his accident.
“You can trust me, Paige.”
“I do trust you.” But inside, she just didn’t count on him anymore. He had improved. Was it enough to try again? She gazed up at him, wondering what he’d do if she just kissed him already. Maybe that would jog something loose inside that brain. Like the reverse of the prince kissing Sleeping Beauty.
She reminded herself how grateful she was he’d come home at all. When she’d first learned of his injuries, though, she thought he was gone in a different way, never to return. His doctors told his family that Logan would probably not be capable of caring for himself. But she had disagreed. She’d gone to him at Walter Reed and stayed right up until her due date.
When he’d finally come home, Paige had been there. But after Lori’s injury, people who knew they’d been together urged her to move on, not to burden him or herself with trying to recover memories of a relationship that had broken up anyway.
She’d tried. She still did. Until moments like this when she wanted him to remember everything, to be awakened by her touch, her kiss. But that wasn’t how brain injury and recovery worked. Some things were just gone forever. She had to accept that.
Sleeping Beauty, she thought and smiled. Logan was still beautiful. The scar didn’t change that. His dark, fathomless eyes and crisp, thick hair still tempted. Even that stupid cowboy hat made him look as handsome as any Western hero of movie or television.
She paused to face him. He pushed back the brim of his hat. She used her teeth to tug off one glove and then used her index finger to trace the hard line of his jaw. His coarse whiskers gently scraped her finger pad. She gave him her best seductive smile.
And for an instant, he was back. His eyes went wide with speculation and then came that easy, slow smile.
A familiar garish, orange Audi SUV raced by them and made an illegal U-turn right on Main. Connor Lynch pulled to a halt at the curb, and the passenger window whisked down. Logan’s brother leaned across the seat to peer at them.
As if caught doing something illegal, Paige jumped back from Logan and now glowered at Connor. He used to make a habit of interrupting them whenever he thought they might be…occupied. Some things never changed.
“Paige, you need a lift home?”
She stiffened and narrowed her eyes at Connor. This was yet another attempt to keep her away from his little brother. He’d made his feelings crystal clear after Logan finally came home. Logan was not capable of that sort of relationship, Connor had told her in no uncertain terms. And she should not burden him with trying to have one. Connor had been adamant, she’d ignored him and Lori had suffered as a result.
She’d backed off, but stayed close, watching his gradual improvement. He might not remember her, but his accident had not reduced his intelligence. Even his doctors said so. The slow speech and hearing trouble were results of brain injury. The part of his brain that handled cognitive function had been unharmed. Most people around here forgot that. Spoke to him more slowly than necessary and as if they were dealing with a child or a pet monkey. It infuriated her.
But was that indignation on his behalf or fury over what she had lost? She didn’t know, and sometimes her disappointment over Logan reenlisting blended into a general anger at the universe for stealing something precious from them both.
“I can walk her home,” said Logan to his big brother, his speech slow by comparison.
“Aren’t you supposed to be directing traffic at five?” he asked his kid brother.
“Yes. But I have time to walk her home and get back.”
“Today we need you in your office to cover phones. We had a traffic fatality. You still have a job, bud. Don’t blow it on me.”
“I can walk her and then come back. I didn’t take a lunch today.”
Connor ignored
