Tennessee Touch, Sisters of Spirit #6 (33 page)

"Oh, Logan, I love you—"

"And I love you. That's the last thing you said to me. It kept echoing through my mind. I knew you wouldn't have said it if you didn't mean it."

"My letter?"

"It came, yesterday. I was regretting leaving you before I was halfway back to Green Bay. I reminded myself of your background, your mother’s husbands, knowing that they were why it was difficult for you to trust. But I stubbornly kept away, trying to make my head rule my heart."

"I'm so sorry I said those things." Her voice was low, a gentle whisper across his lips.

"It's okay," he said, pulling her closer so that there was not a hair's breath between them. "But I came so close to losing you—"

"Not so close. I wouldn't have given up that easily."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah. I was headed for Tennessee. As soon as the Super Bowl was over, you were going to find me camped on your doorstep."

"A most forward young lady. What would your mama say to that?"

"Probably tell me to hurry up and bring you home."

She looked down at herself, wrinkling her nose in chagrin. "You pick the worst times to come through that door. "

"What's wrong?" he said, his smile permanent now, settling in his blue eyes and spreading across his face from within. "You look fine to me."

He had to be in love if he wasn't bothered by the dirty, disheveled state she was in. "I need a shower."

"Go get one...I'll wait."

She dithered, wanting to get clean, but not wanting to leave his side. "How soon do you have to leave?"

"I have a week."

"
A whole week?
"

 "Uh, huh. Coach Dobb gave me that long to ask you to marry me and get my head back on. He figured I could get ready for the Super Bowl best by seeing you."

"Oh. He knew what was going on?"

"Jake told him. I had trouble in the last game—"

"I watched. The first quarter. But you got things straightened out—"

"Coach told me to either come to a decision before I went back onto the field or else he'd put in Steve Rollings, my back-up."

"But—" She looked indignant and he defended the coach's actions.

"I couldn't concentrate. A professional athlete is supposed to play his best no matter what's happening in his private life, but the tension and despair was affecting my performance. A happy man plays better than a sad one, every time; and carries the team with him.

“So I made my decision, told him what it was, got congratulated by the whole team—and we went out fired up and ran right over the Hornets."

"And he gave you a whole week off?"

Her bewilderment made him chuckle. "Me and some of the injured players. He's not being generous, just wants to win. And he figures a quarterback who has his life straightened out is going to play better than one who doesn't. He said to tell you if you didn't promise to marry me he was going to come out and ask you himself."

She smiled, gently amused, and he added, "He would, too."

Suddenly conscious of the open door, Alison pulled back and looked at it. Quick to pick up the direction of her thought, Logan released her and took the two steps necessary to close it.

Then stopped.

The young man from the airport entered, kicking the door the rest of the way open and stalking inside, a gun in his left hand and a set of keys in his right.

Logan heard Alison’s gasp as his training took over. The handgun was not yet pointed towards them, which it would be as soon as the man cleared the rebounding door. Less than a second, it was all he needed to shift his weight and launch himself at the intruder, his right hand sweeping out to knock the gun down.

A reflex squeeze on the trigger sent a bullet into the intruder’s leg, and Logan lost no time in spinning him around and dropping him to the floor. He landed an elbow on the man’s throat, hearing the cry of pain as he wrestled the gun away and shoved it beyond them, towards Alison.

She was standing frozen, with a shocked look on her face, but walked forward, picked up the gun and pointed it at them.

Logan saw her look down at her finger and move it off the trigger. He nodded, happy he wasn’t going to get shot.

He had been attentive when the coaches described certain moves as being dangerous and against football rules. Here and here, the places he wasn’t supposed to hit anyone, he now used to further put the maniac out of action. He left the guy curled in a ball on the floor and very carefully took the gun from Alison.

“Call 911,” he said, and she did so while he made sure the man stayed still except for his groaning.

“You...you hurt me!” the man cried.

Logan thought of all his friends and fellow players whom this man had injured or killed and had no sympathy at all. The guy would probably be declared innocent because of insanity.

“If you give pain, you’ve got to be ready to receive it,” he said. “You’re getting off lightly.”

Alison began to tremble, and sat down quickly on the nearest chair. Logan pulled up one for himself, checked the bullets—there were plenty, and looked over at her. She was hugging herself closely, her lips trembling, but she was safe, unhurt, and had just said she loved him. Again.

“Thanks for taking your finger off the trigger,” he told her. “You had me worried.”

“More than him?”

“He was on the floor. You had the gun.”

“It’s heavier than a can of Mace,” she admitted.

“Remind me to teach you to shoot.” He smiled at her and she smiled back—the flashing sweet smile that he often watched for, that encompassed her features; making her eyes glow and lifting her lips slightly. He could see her relax, no longer feeling threatened.

The police arrived and it didn’t hurt that they quickly recognized him. Logan explained the importance of catching this man, that he was wanted by the FBI for the murders of several players. He did not want them to let him go on a technicality. Two of them assured him that they would accompany the man all the way to his arraignment, and would double guard him until the FBI took him into custody.

 “We’ve all received alerts about this guy,” one said. “It was fortunate you were able to disarm him.”

Logan pulled out his wallet and extracted Mark Stone’s card. “Here’s the agent who’s handling the case.”

It took two hours to wrap everything up, then they were once more alone in Alison’s apartment.

Alison closed the door and turned to Logan, who was putting a chair back into the dining area. She was so happy he hadn’t been hurt. She had recovered from the shakes while the police was there, but she still felt weak. “I thought he was going to kill you.”

“I was lucky. Now we can all get back to normal living,” he said with a smile of relief. “No more watching over our shoulders for him to try something.”

“I’m so happy he’s gone.”

“Me, too. I didn’t want to bring you into danger. One of the other reasons I stayed away was to keep him from you. I wonder how he followed me?”

“He’s been around here the last few days.”

“What?”

“I thought he was a new tenant.”

Logan looked like he had just witnessed a horrible tragedy. “Oh, my dear. I put you in danger... If he had hurt you... Ahh! I can’t imagine...”

“He didn’t.”

“No. No thanks to me.” He took a deep breath, shuddering. “I love you.”

"And I love you," she told him, almost in amazement. It seemed strange to be able to say it to him. Yet her love seemed to deepen with every magic moment they spent together.

He stepped closer, serious. "Will you marry me?"

"Yes...if you think we can make it work."

"Marriage...it's like that lane in Alderwood. We take the chance and go down it. It might be disappointing or it might be full of promise, but we'll never know until we take the risk. I want you as my partner, for life."

"But what if I mess up? I'll try not to, but—"

"I'll love you so much you won't have the time or inclination to have any doubts about me." She smiled more broadly at that—he would know how—and agreed with him when he added, "I'm willing to take the chance that we can weather pro life together. I certainly can't see me ever wanting to marry anyone else. I love you, my dearest."

Alison nodded her head. At last she realized that life could only progress if people were willing to take chances. If he was willing to take the chance for future happiness by trusting her with his love, she could do the same. And told him so.

"Perfect." He thrust his hand into his coat and pulled out a ring box. "This is to make it official." He flipped the lid open to reveal an emerald solitaire in an unusual antique setting of gold.

She couldn't think of words to say and watched as he removed it and slid it on the fourth finger of her left hand. It was a trifle loose, she'd have to get it made smaller so she wouldn't lose it.

"Do you like it?" he questioned before she could get her tongue unstuck. "You do want one, don't you? I mean—"

"Oh, yes, it's beautiful; it's...it's striking."

"If you wanted something else...a diamond?"

"Oh, no. This is marvelous It took my breath away, that's all. I've never seen anything so lovely."

"Are you sure?"

"You just try and take it away from me," she declared, words coming easily now. "You'll never get this back," she warned, "so you'd better be prepared to go ahead with a wedding."

The relief showed in his eyes as she threw her arms around him for another kiss.

"I thought maybe we could go see your folks, then go to mine."

"When?"

"As soon as you can get ready."

"Now?”

He nodded.

“I'll have to get someone to cover for me tomorrow—"

"How about the rest of the month? I'd like you to stay with my folks when I go back to Green Bay, get to know them better, then come to the Super Bowl with them."

"Done." She picked up the phone and started dialing, her appointment book in front of her as she took the plunge into her new life.

Thank you for reading
“Tennessee Touch.”
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