Cowboy Truth: Cowboy Justice Association #3 (12 page)

L
ogan twisted open the bottle of whiskey, breaking the seal. He reached for the cabinet door to pull down a glass but quickly tossed the idea. This wasn’t a sipping occasion. Current events called for gulping the Wild Turkey straight from the bottle. Hopefully the alcohol would bring him the blessed numbness and oblivion he sought. Booze was the answer and Logan didn’t even know the fucking question.

He felt raw. Exposed for all to see.

He tipped the bottle and let the fiery liquid slide down his throat and into his belly. He’d barely noticed his surroundings as he’d driven home from the Bryson estate, stopping only briefly at the liquor store. Stubborn disbelief and denial still warred with the dawning realization that nothing would ever be the same after today.

Fuck it all. Get drunk.

That was his plan. It wasn’t much of one but it was all he had. In the Army, they’d dealt with adversity as a team. He’d learned to trust others then but now there was no one but himself. He’d just acquired a family and yet he’d never felt more alone. Even when his mother had left.

An image of her flashed before his eyes and he took another long drink. Bryson had been right when he said that Jacquelyn Wright was a sunny golden girl. She’d taught Logan to sing and play the guitar. She’d taught him to hold doors open for females and to help them with their coat. In the end, she’d taught him that love couldn’t be trusted. She’d vowed to love him forever but she’d lied. He wouldn’t give anyone a chance to fool him that way ever again.

He took another drink from the bottle and settled back on the couch. The dull ache that always permeated his chest whenever he thought about his mother was back. He hated the feeling, hated the weakness. Most days he went about life and didn’t think about the past. He’d vowed to never become its bitch, disgusted by people who allowed victimhood to take over their life. Now he had no choice but to let long forgotten memories come crowding back one after the other until he thought his head might explode.

Searching every corner of his mind, he looked for some clue or hint of the truth that had been revealed to him today. What had he missed? Should he have known?

He ran through every conversation in fast forward. His mother had never shown that she was anything else but delighted when he’d made friends with Wade, Lyle, and Aaron. Or maybe she was glad he was close with his brothers. Since she wasn’t fucking here to ask, he’d never know.

As for Bill Bryson, Logan hadn’t spent that much time with the man but he’d always been given a warm welcome in their home. Nothing had seemed amiss or strange. Logan had never been favored over anyone else.

There was always the possibility that Bill’s letter was a huge lie. But then why would he leave Logan a quarter of his estate? It seemed an elaborate ruse to simply play some sort of sick practical joke.

No, Bill had to be telling the truth.

The thought that had been niggling in the back of Logan’s mind finally came front and center. This was the reason Logan’s supposed father had left. There couldn’t be any other reason. At some point, his father – John – must have found out and the marriage had broken up. He’d left without a backward glance because Logan really wasn’t his son.

The insistent ringing of the telephone brought Logan out of his reverie. He scowled at the machine as if his mind could vaporize its mere existence. He sure as fuck didn’t want to talk to anyone. His anger was simmering too high and his feelings were too confused. The machine beeped and a halting-voiced Wade left a message that Logan should call him.

He wasn’t even tempted to pick up the phone. He didn’t want to talk to Wade. Or Lyle. Or Aaron. Or any other Bryson right now. Logan wasn’t even sure how they’d taken the news. They had every right to be pissed that the bastard son had inherited. This had the potential to ruin his long-standing friendship with the family. He didn’t want anything from Bill Bryson. Logan should simply sign everything over to them and be done with it.

Then what?

Corville, for better or worse, was his home. He’d been born and raised here, only leaving when he was in the Army. Even then, whenever he’d had leave, he’d come home to visit, staying in this very house with Frank.

Which brought up the question – had Frank Jesse known about Logan’s parentage? Is that why he’d received special treatment? Admittedly, five years in the Army wasn’t exactly a gravy train. As a matter of fact, it had been damn hard work and he was lucky to have come out alive. Many of his fellow soldiers hadn’t.

But Frank had looked at him differently. Even leaving Logan this ranch when he’d died. Some had been puzzled when that happened, but Logan knew he’d earned it. The last few years of Frank’s life he’d been so eaten up with alcoholism that Logan had run not only the sheriff’s office but the ranch as well.

Suddenly he couldn’t stand to be inside the house. Logan grabbed the bottle and headed out the back door, tossing his cell phone on the kitchen counter as he went. He walked across the green grass until he was standing in front of his tree. Grabbing a branch with one hand, he tucked the bottle under his arm to keep it safe.

He’d spend the night in the treehouse he’d built with his own hands several years ago. There was no telephone to bother him. Only the silence surrounded him and his thoughts.

Or not think at all. Just drink until he couldn’t feel anything. Until there was peace.

The only problem was he wasn’t sure he’d recognize it when he found it. He’d known little in his life and it didn’t look like he’d be getting even a glimpse anytime soon. He swung up into the treehouse and settled on the bed watching the sun start to fade in the distance.

He took another drink of whiskey and settled in for a long night.

*   *   *   *

Ava pulled a soda from the refrigerator as her mother bustled into the kitchen to start dinner.

“It’s about time you came out of your room. You’ve been locked in there all day,” her mother observed.

For good reason. Ava hadn’t wanted to face any questions from her mother and father about her date with Logan last night. She still didn’t know how she felt about it herself. It was one measly kiss and it certainly wasn’t her first. It shouldn’t be a big deal but somehow things had grown all out of proportion. She wanted to hate Logan but she didn’t. There was something about him that she couldn’t identify.

“I was writing, Mom. It’s what I do.” Ava plopped down at the kitchen island to watch her mother make the meatloaf. Despite the entree not having a good culinary reputation in general, Carol Hayworth made an excellent meatloaf. Her secret was saltine crackers instead of bread crumbs.

“I know but it’s a lovely day. You should go out for a walk or something. It’s not healthy to stay cooped up in one room for hours.”

If her mother only knew. Ava had been known to not leave her home for days on end.

“I’m out of there now. What else are we having?”

Her mother smiled as she dumped the ground beef into a large bowl before adding two eggs. “Mashed potatoes and corn bread.”

Carb heaven. Ava’s mother had never met a starch she didn’t like. From the rounded curve of her own hips, Ava was pretty fond of them as well.

“With honey butter?” she asked hopefully.

“If you make it.” Her mother laughed and poured the broken up crackers into the bowl. Ava grumbled but stood and headed back to the refrigerator, but the slamming of the front door and frantic footsteps interrupted her. Mary burst into the kitchen looking quite unlike her usual unruffled appearance.

“Heavens, child. You’re slamming doors. You know how your father feels about that. Thank goodness he’s at work.”

Mary grabbed Ava’s soda can and she watched in awe as her normally cool sister slugged half of it back in one shot. She raised her eyebrows as Mary set the can back on the island.

“Help yourself,” said Ava a trifle sarcastically. “What the heck is wrong with you? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Mary took a deep breath. “I kind of have. I wanted to get home to tell you before you heard it from anyone else.”

“Heard what?” her mother asked, digging her fingers into the bowl to combine the ingredients.

“The reading of the will today.” Mary looked annoyed that no one seemed to be getting the urgency of the situation.

“Did Mr. Bryson leave everything to a long lost relative or something? Or the cat?” Ava joked.

“Kind of. He left a quarter of his estate to Sheriff Logan Wright.” Mary looked back and forth between her sister and her mother as if waiting for a reaction.

“Logan?” That didn’t make any sense. “Why? Did he help out the family in some way? Is he distantly related?”

Mary’s lips curved in a Cheshire cat smile, triumph in every line of her expression. She loved it when she knew something no one else did.

“Logan Wright is Bill Bryson’s son.”

Shock and then denial ripped through Ava’s body. “No way. You’re kidding.”

“I’m not. It was revealed today at the reading of the will. You should have seen everyone’s faces. I thought George was going to have a stroke.”

Ava’s mother wiped her hands down with a paper towel. “Why aren’t you with your husband right now?” she asked with a sharp tone. “I would think he would want his wife at his side at a time like this.”

Mary had the decency to blush. “I wanted to be the first to tell you.”

Her mother’s lips twisted. “Well, you are. Was it as glamorous as you imagined?” she asked wryly. “I’m surprised at you, Mary Ellen Hayworth Bryson. You usually have better sense than this. The Bryson family, your own husband, is probably in great pain from this news and you come tearing into this house to spread gossip.”

Pressing her lips together, Mary dropped her gaze. “I’m sorry, Mom. I guess I forgot what was important.”

“Yes, you did. I hope you remember it now.”

Ava watched her mother turn Mary into a stammering schoolgirl. The only person that could keep Mary in line was Carol Hayworth. Lyle didn’t have a prayer of wrangling his headstrong wife.

“How’s Logan taking this? Did he already know?” The question was wrenched from Ava but she couldn’t help herself. He must be completely devastated.

Mary looked up and shrugged, shifting uncomfortably on her feet. “From what Deke Kennedy said only Bill and George Bryson knew. I didn’t see Logan. He was gone by the time we got to the house. Wade, Lyle, and Aaron have been looking for him but no one can find him.”

Ava chewed on her lower lip as emotions she’d tried to suppress last night squeezed her heart. Logan could be a royal jerk at times, but mostly he was a really nice man. She liked and respected him, and this had to have hurt him deeply. To find out he’d been lied to his entire life would be a betrayal he might never get over.

She slid off the barstool and moved towards the stairs to get her purse. “Mom, I may not be back in time for dinner. Don’t wait on me.”

Her mother put her hand on her hips. “Just where are you going?”

“To talk to Logan.” She waited for her mother’s disapproval but instead Carol Hayworth’s expression softened.

“Honey, do you think it’s a good idea? He must be in a powerful lot of pain right now. Maybe you should wait a day or two.”

“No, I need to see him. Tonight.” Ava couldn’t explain the inexplicable urge to be with him. Right now. She only knew she couldn’t deny it.

Mary shook her head. “No one knows where he is. You’ll never find him.”

Ava had a pretty good idea where Logan was hiding. She remembered the conversation they’d shared last night only too well. It was worth a try.

“I’m going anyway,” Ava replied. “I have to.”

Mary snorted and tossed back the rest of the soda in the can. “And another one bites the dust for the amazing Logan Wright. I should have known that’s what you were doing hanging around him so much. You know he’s only going to break your heart, don’t you?”

“It’s not like that. We’re friends,” Ava denied.

“Friends?” Mary laughed bitterly. “Logan Wright doesn’t have any female—”

“Hush, Mary,” Ava’s mother intervened. “If Ava says they’re friends, that’s good enough for me.”

“Thanks, Mom.” Ava headed toward the door, slinging her handbag over her shoulder on the way. She felt a touch on her arm and turned to see her mother’s worried expression.

“Honey, I don’t want you to get hurt. Are you sure about this? Logan Wright is a good man, but…is he your man?”

Her voice was gentle and it tore at Ava’s heart. She was only beginning to comprehend her feelings for Logan. This wasn’t going to have a happy ending, of that she was sure.

“No, Mom. He’s not my man but that’s alright.”

Her mother looked at her for a long moment and then nodded. “Drive carefully.”

Ava climbed into her car and headed toward Logan’s ranch. It was the dumbest, stupidest thing in the world to go after him. But she couldn’t stop herself. He needed someone and she needed to be that someone.

No matter what it cost her.

Chapter Ten