Safe Haven

Before Avery could comment on that, Jessie stormed out of the house, slamming the kitchen door. “She’s in love with you, you know,” Avery said instead.

“Nonsense. Jess is like a kid sister. Hell, she was a kid when Becky and I married. She spent more time here than with her parents in San Antonio.” Avery’s statement seemed to give him pause. “Okay, she’s always had a schoolgirl crush on me, and she’s just overprotective since Becky’s death. I think she feels a need to take care of me. I just wish this possessiveness would run its course and she’d direct all those pent-up feelings toward someone else.”

Men could be so dense sometimes, Avery thought. Or maybe he wasn’t all that blind. She remembered, when she’d first arrived and again just a few moments ago, he’d used her like a shield against Jessie’s advances. She sensed Logan was a man with too many problems on his plate and didn’t know how to deal with them all at once. She certainly wasn’t about to add to his troubles. “She’s a little old for a schoolgirl crush, Logan.”

Big mouth. What happened to her promise to keep her opinions to herself?

“She’s immature and I feel sorry for her. She worshiped Becky, and my wife was the only Middleton who took much notice of Jess or who could handle her wildness. I think Jess has latched on to me as a way to deal with her grief. It’ll pass with time.”

Wildness was only one word Avery would use to describe Jessie. Others came more to mind, such as spoiled and disturbed. She recognized the signs and knew all too well where the young woman was headed if she didn’t get some help. Avery could have told Logan a few things about the pitfalls of sticking his head in the sand. She’d done the same with her father and brother. Look what it had cost her.

“Your guilt won’t do her any good, Logan.”

“That sounds like the voice of experience.”

“I see a lot of my brother in Jessie. I wish someone had recognized the signs.” When she realized her slip, her hands shook. Avery quickly busied herself by drying the heavy cast-iron skillet.

He knew the second she withdrew back into herself, and he sighed. Hell, he had enough worries of his own. Taking on a stranger’s problems was beyond him. “You know, Avery, you can’t run forever. Believe me, I’ve tried, and I promise you it’ll catch up with you. If you’re in some sort of trouble, I might be able to help.”

She turned, ready to deny that she needed anyone, much less his assistance. Their eyes met and held, and the words caught in her throat. At an earlier time in her life she would have been thrilled to have a man look at her the way Logan looked at her. Things were different now, though. She couldn’t afford to believe in anyone, much less trust herself.

Logan didn’t look away from the shifting emotions in Avery’s lovely gray eyes. Having a good-looking, desirable woman underfoot perhaps wasn’t such a good idea, he mused. After all, he’d only agreed to the crazy scheme to shut his father up and keep him from interfering any further in his life, but that was before Logan had felt the novelty of desire zing through his veins. He halfheartedly cursed himself for being weak. “Whatever you’re running from, Haven’s the right place to get lost. Nothing much happens here.”

Suddenly the kitchen door slammed open against the wall and a lanky teenage boy, arms waving like flags, eyes round with fear, skidded to a stop just inside. “Doc, come quick! Something’s wrong with the horses. They’re all really sick.”

“If this is one of your jokes, Benton, so help me...” But Logan was moving, and his threat lacked any anger as he saw how pale and scared the boy was. He grabbed his hat, then turned to Avery. “How are you around horses?”

“I don’t know. Except for yesterday, the closest I’ve ever been to one was the television.”

Her answer made him give a quick bark of laughter. He motioned for her to join him. “I might need you.”

The thought of being needed, even wanted, was all the impetus Avery required. She took off after Logan.

CHAPTER FOUR

THE AFTERNOON SUN was high overhead. There wasn’t even a breath of wind. The shock of stepping from the sweet coolness of the house into the heat of the day was like walking into an inferno. Avery’s limbs felt leaden, sweat promptly dampened her forehead and it was an effort to keep up with Logan.

She saw the boy, Benton, disappearing into the dark hole of the open barn doors. Who was he? she wondered, then remembered Logan’s saying to Jessie something about the boys being there today.

Once inside, she shivered as the breeze created by the overhead fans touched her damp skin. Four teenage boys were lined up outside a stall. When they saw Logan, they silently stepped aside to let him enter.

Logan recognized the pungent odor of sickness. From the sound of Allspice’s labored breathing, the horse was close to death. He hunkered down beside the animal and felt his pulse.

“What happened here?” he asked the boys.

They all hung back except Benton. His voice cracked with emotion. “We were just feeding them like we’ve always done, Doc.”

Avery stood there, horrified, as she looked at the horse, crumpled in the hay. His beautiful red-brown coat was slick with sweat. She wanted to clamp her hands over her ears with each rattling breath. “How sick is he, Logan? Can you give him something?”

Logan didn’t answer, but moved from stall to stall, evaluating each horse’s condition and listening to Benton.

“You know Allspice, Doc. He always has to be first or he kicks the stall. And he’s a glutton. But by the time we fed the others, Allspice was like that.”

“The feed?”

One of the other boys spoke up. “That was the first thing we thought of, Doc. Maybe it had soured. We took it away from all of them, but they’d eaten some—not as much as Allspice, but...” His voice trailed away in anguish.

Logan headed toward a row of feed bins against the far wall. He reached in, brought a handful up to his nose and sniffed. “It’s tainted,” he said. “Tom, empty the bins into those metal trash cans, then take it to the storeroom, lock the door and bring me the key. Under no circumstances are any of you to use any feed from that room.” He glanced at Avery.

“What can I do to help?” she asked.

“Come with me.”

Avery followed him toward the front of the barn, then through a green door, which he unlocked. She got a quick view of a small waiting room before she trailed him down a hall to another world, an environment of spotless stainless steel, high, glass-fronted cabinets with neat rows of labeled bottles. They passed through a set of double glass doors, and Logan stopped beside an examining table.

“I need you to call Tanner and tell him not to bring Molly here.” He pointed to a typed list of phone numbers taped to the wall as he stuffed vials of medicine and syringes into his shirt pockets. “If you can’t reach Tanner at home, try his cell phone. After you talk to him, call Dad and tell him to get in touch with Pierce. When you finish, come find me.”

He was barely out the door when she had Tanner on the phone. In an economy of words, and because she had no idea what had happened to the animals, she was curt with Tanner, but softened when he offered to call Mac and Pierce. As she talked, she had a chance to look around the office. There was an array of confusing items: instruments in glass drawers; tables on wheels which held colored bottles; what looked like a pressure cooker of some sort.

Remembering Logan’s orders, Avery gave one quick glance at the photograph of a child on the wall, then headed out. She found Logan kneeling beside Allspice, stroking the quivering horse’s neck and talking softly to him. She saw an empty vial and syringe.

“Is he going to be all right?”

Logan didn’t answer. She waited for what seemed forever, watching him tenderly care for the sick horse. When Logan finally looked up, she realized the harsh breathing had stopped.

Avery blinked back sudden tears. Not only for the horse, but for the pain in Logan’s eyes.

“Do you still want to help?” he asked.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“It won’t be easy, and if you’ve got a weak stomach, you better say so now.”

“I’ll be okay and I’ll do whatever you say.” She glanced at the motionless animal and had to ask, “Are they all going to die?”

“Not if I have anything to say about it.” His tone held grim determination.

Something about Logan changed, like light shifting across his face. She could have sworn she caught a glimpse of rage, just under the surface and ready to boil over.

AVERY GRIPPED Possum’s lead as she walked the dainty dappled-gray mare around and around the paddock. She’d learned from watching two of the boys, also walking horses, how to hold the lead rope close to the side of the animal’s face so she could pet her and talk to her. Raul was walking King Moe, a black stallion too ill to be ornery, the boy said, and Tony was walking Hopalong, a pretty, light brown horse with a white tail and mane.

She discovered a lot about the boys as they walked. They were working for Logan without pay as punishment for getting into trouble at school. From the way they cared for the horses, she didn’t think they minded their punishment. She would have learned more, but the increasing heat, worry and the struggle to keep the horses on their feet and walking soon took all her energy.

She lost track of time or how long she’d been walking until Logan came out, shoved a wide-brimmed straw cowboy hat on her head and handed her a bottle of water, insisting she drink some now. Then he clasped her chin in his hand and searched her face. He smiled as he said, “Your nose and cheeks are turning pink. Keep the hat pulled low.”

She was perfectly still and gazed steadily into his eyes. “I’m okay.”

Logan nodded and reluctantly dropped his hand. He was impressed that she didn’t complain or want to quit because she was tired, dirty and hot. “If you feel dizzy or nauseated at all, don’t be ashamed to speak up.” He busied himself examining Possum. “You don’t have to prove anything to those kids. Believe me, you’re not tougher than they are just because you’re older.”