Her thoughts were interrupted by the sight of Nana's truck slowly rolling up the drive and coming to a stop near the back entrance to the kennel. Logan got out and went around to the bed of the truck. She watched him sling a fifty-pound bag of dog food over his shoulder and head inside. When he emerged, Zeus was trotting beside him, nosing at his hand; Beth figured that he must have kept Zeus inside the office while he'd been in town.
It took him a few more minutes to unload the rest of the dog food, and when he was done, he started toward the house. By then, dusk had begun to fall. The faint echo of thunder sounded in the distance, and Beth could hear the crickets beginning their evening song. She suspected the storm would hold off; with the exception of a couple of scattered showers, it had been miserably dry all summer. But the air, carried from the ocean, was scented with pine and salt, and she flashed on memories from a beach long ago. She could remember seeing spider crabs scuttling before beams from the flashlights that she and Drake and Grandpa were holding; her mom's face illuminated by the glow of the small bonfire her dad had started; the sight of Nana's marshmallow catching fire as they toasted them for s'mores. It was one of the few memories she had of her parents, and she wasn't even sure how much of it was real. Because she'd been so young, she suspected that Nana's memories had become fused with her own. Nana had told her the story of that night countless times, perhaps because it was the last time they'd all been together. Beth's parents had died in an auto accident only a few days later.
"Are you all right?"
Distracted by her memories, Beth hadn't noticed that Logan had reached the porch. In the fading light, his features seemed softer than she remembered.
"Yeah, I'm fine." She straightened up and smoothed her blouse. "I was just thinking."
"I have the keys to the truck," he said, his voice quiet. "I wanted to drop them off before I went home."
When he held them out, she knew she could simply thank him and say good night, but--maybe because she was still upset that Nana had made her decision to leave without talking to her about it first, or maybe because she wanted to make her own decision about Logan--she took the keys and deliberately held his gaze. "Thanks," she said. "Long day for you, huh?"
If he was surprised by her invitation to talk, he didn't show it. "It wasn't too bad. And I got a lot done."
"Like regaining the ability to drive legally?"
He offered a lazy smile. "Among other things."
"Did the brakes give you any problems?"
"Not once I got used to the grinding."
Beth grinned at the thought. "I'll bet the examiner loved that."
"I'm sure he did. I could tell by the wincing."
She laughed, and for a moment, neither of them said anything. On the horizon, lightning flashed. It took some time before the thunder sounded, and she knew the storm was still a few miles off. In the silence, she noticed Logan was looking at her with that peculiar deja vu expression again. He seemed to realize it and quickly turned away. Beth followed his gaze and saw that Zeus had wandered toward the trees. The dog stood at attention, staring at Logan as if to ask, Do you want to go for a walk? Emphasizing his point, Zeus barked and Logan shook his head.
"Hold your horses," he called out. He turned back toward Beth. "He's been cooped up for a while and he wants to wander."
"Isn't he doing that now?"
"No, I mean he wants me to wander with him. He won't let me out of his sight."
"Ever?"
"He can't help it. He's a shepherd and he thinks I'm his flock."
Beth raised his eyebrow. "Small flock."
"Yeah, but it's growing. He's really taken to Ben and Nana."
"Not me?" She pretended to look wounded.
Logan shrugged. "You haven't thrown a stick for him."
"That's all it takes?"
"He's a cheap date."
She laughed again. Somehow she hadn't expected him to have a sense of humor. Surprising her, he motioned over his shoulder. "Would you like to walk with us? For Zeus, it's almost as good as throwing a stick."
"Oh, it is, huh?" she parried, stalling.
"I don't make the rules. I just know what they are. And I'd hate for you to feel left out."
She hesitated briefly before accepting that he was just trying to be friendly. She glanced over her shoulder. "I should probably let Nana and Ben know I'm going."
"You can, but we won't be gone long. Zeus just wants to go to the creek and splash around for a few minutes before we go home. Otherwise, he gets hot." He rocked on his heels, hands in his pockets. "You ready?"
"Yeah, let's go."
They stepped off the porch and headed down the gravel path. Zeus trotted ahead of them, checking every now and then to make sure they were following. They walked side by side, but with enough distance to ensure they didn't touch accidentally.
"Nana told me you're a teacher?" Logan inquired.
Beth nodded. "Second grade."
"How's your class this year?"
"It seems like a good group of kids. So far, anyway. And I've already had seven mothers sign up to volunteer, which is always a good sign."
Moving past the kennel, they approached the small trail that led to the creek. The sun had dipped below the trees, casting the trail in shadow. As they walked, thunder boomed again.
"How long have you been teaching?"
"Three years."
"Do you enjoy it?"
"Most of the time. I work with a lot of great people, so that makes it easier."
"But?"
She didn't seem to understand his question. He pushed his hands into his pockets and went on.
"There's always a 'but' when it comes to jobs. Like, I love my job and my colleagues are first-rate, but . . . a couple of them like to dress up like superheroes on the weekend and I can't help but wonder if they're nuts."
She laughed. "No, they really are great. And I do love teaching. It's just that every now and then there's a student who comes from a challenging family background, and you know there's nothing you can do for them. It's enough to break your heart sometimes." She walked a few steps in silence. "How about you, though? Do you like working here?"
"Yeah, I do." He sounded sincere.
"But?"
He shook his head. "No buts."
"That's not fair. I told you."
"Yes, but you weren't talking to the boss's granddaughter. And speaking of my boss, do you have any idea what time we'll be leaving tomorrow?"
"She didn't tell you?"
"No. I figured I'd ask when I dropped off the keys."
"She didn't say, but I'm sure she'll want you to train and exercise the dogs before you leave so the dogs won't get antsy."
They'd come within sight of the creek, and Zeus plunged ahead into the water, splashing and barking. Logan and Beth watched him frolic before Logan motioned toward the low branch. Beth took a seat and he joined her, carefully preserving the space between them.
"How far is Greensboro from here?" he asked.
"Five hours, there and back. It's mainly on the interstate."
"Do you have any idea when she'll be coming home?"
Beth shrugged. "She told me a week."
"Oh . . ." Logan seemed to digest this.
All worked out, my foot, Beth thought. Logan was more in the dark than she was. "I'm getting the impression Nana didn't tell you much about this."
"Just that she was going and I was driving, so I'd better get my license. Oh, and that I'd be working this weekend."
"That figures. Listen, about that . . . I can handle things this weekend if you have things to do--"
"It's no problem," Logan said. "I don't have anything planned. And there are some things I haven't had a chance to get to yet. Just some little things that need to be fixed."
"Like installing an air conditioner in the kennel office?"
"I was thinking more along the lines of painting the door trim and seeing what I can do to get the office window to open."
"The one that's painted shut? Good luck. My grandpa tried to fix it for years. He once worked a whole day on it with a razor blade and ended up wearing Band-Aids for a week. It still wouldn't open."
"You're not filling me with confidence here," Logan said.
"Just trying to warn you. And it's funny because it was my grandpa who painted it shut in the first place, and he had a whole storage shed full of just about every tool you could imagine. He was one of those guys who thought he could fix anything, but it never quite worked out as well as he'd planned. He was more of a visionary than a nuts-and-bolts kind of guy. Have you seen Ben's tree house and the bridge?"
"From a distance," Logan admitted.
"A case in point. It took Grandpa most of one summer to build it, and whenever Ben goes there now, I cringe. How it's lasted this long without blowing over I have no idea. It scares me, but Ben loves to go there, especially when he's upset or nervous about something. He calls it his hideout. He goes there a lot." When she paused, he could see her concern, but it lasted only an instant before she came back to him. "Anyway, Grandpa was a prize. All heart and soul, and he gave us the most idyllic childhood you could imagine."
"Us?"
"My brother and me." She gazed toward the tree, the leaves silver in the moonlight. "Did Nana tell you what happened to my parents?"
He nodded. "Briefly. I'm sorry."
She waited, wondering if he'd add anything else, but he didn't. "What was it like?" she asked. "Walking across the country?"
Logan took his time answering. "It was . . . peaceful. Just being able to go where I wanted, when I wanted, with no rush to get there."
"You make it sound therapeutic."
"It was, I suppose." A sad smile flickered across his face, then was gone. "In a way."
As he said it, the fading light reflected in his eyes, making them seem as if they were changing color incrementally. "Did you find what you were looking for?" she asked, her expression serious.
Logan paused. "Yeah, actually I did."
"And?"
"I don't know yet."
She evaluated his answer, unsure what to make of it. "Now don't take this the wrong way, but for some reason, I don't see you staying in one place for very long."
"Is that because I walked from Colorado?"
"That has a lot to do with it."
He laughed, and for the first time, Beth was conscious of how long it had been since she'd had a conversation like this. It felt easy and unforced. With Adam, the conversation had been stiff, as though both had been trying too hard. She still wasn't sure how she felt about Logan, but it seemed right that they were finally on friendly terms. She cleared her throat. "Now, about tomorrow. I'm thinking that maybe the two of you should take my car, and I'll use the truck to go to school. I'm a little worried about the truck's brakes."
"I have to admit I wondered about that, too. But I'm pretty sure I can fix it. Not by tomorrow, but on the weekend."
"You can repair cars, too?"
"Yes. But brakes aren't hard. They need some new pads, but I think the rotors are probably okay."
"Is there anything you can't do?" Beth asked, only half feigning amazement.
"Yes."
She laughed. "That's good. But okay, I'll talk to Nana and I'm sure she'll be fine with using my car. I don't trust those brakes at highway speed. And I'll make sure to check on the dogs when I finish up at school, okay? I'm sure Nana didn't mention that to you either. But I will."
He nodded just as Zeus padded out. He shook off, then moved closer to sniff at Beth before licking her hands.
"He likes me."
"He's probably just tasting you."
"Funny," she said. It was the type of thing Drake would have said, and she was struck by the sudden desire to be alone once again. She stood. "I should probably be heading back. I'm sure they're wondering where I am."
Logan noticed the clouds had continued to thicken. "Yeah, me too. I want to get home before it starts pouring. The storm seems to be getting closer."
"Do you want a ride?"
"Thank you, but no, that's okay. I like to walk."
"Gee, I never would have known," she said with a faint smile. They retraced their steps to the house, and when they reached the gravel drive, Beth pulled a hand out of her jeans pocket and gave a small wave.
"Thanks for the walk, Logan."
She expected him to correct her the way he had with Ben--to tell her again he was called Thibault--but he didn't. Instead, he raised his chin slightly and grinned.
"You too, Elizabeth."
She knew the storm wouldn't last long, though they desperately needed the rain. It had been a hot, dry summer, and it seemed like the heat would never break. As she sat listening to the last drops of rain falling on the tin roof, she found herself thinking about her brother.
Before Drake left, he'd told her that the sound of rain on their roof was the sound he would miss most of all. She wondered if he often dreamed of these North Carolina summer storms in the dry land where he ended up. The thought made her feel hollow and sad all over again.
Nana was in her room packing for her trip, as excited as she'd been in years. Ben, on the other hand, was becoming more and more subdued, which meant he was thinking about the fact that he'd have to spend a big chunk of the weekend with his father. Which also meant she'd have a weekend alone at home, her first solo weekend in a long, long time.
Except for Logan.
She could understand why both Nana and Ben had been drawn to him. He possessed a quiet confidence that seemed rare these days. It was only after she got back to the house that she realized she'd learned little about him that he hadn't already told her during their initial interview. She wondered whether he'd always been so private or if it stemmed from his time in Iraq.
He'd been there, she'd decided. No, he hadn't said as much, but she'd seen something in his expression when she'd mentioned her parents--his simple response hinted at a familiarity with tragedy and an acceptance of it as an unavoidable aspect of life.
She didn't know whether that made her feel better or worse about him. Like Drake, he was a marine. But Logan was here, and Drake was gone, and for that reason as well as more complicated ones, she wasn't sure that she could ever look at Logan with fairness in her heart.
Gazing up at the stars that had emerged between the storm clouds, she felt the loss of Drake like a newly reopened wound. After their parents had died, they had been inseparable, even sleeping in the same bed for a year. He was only a year younger than her, and she distinctly remembered walking to school with him on the first day of kindergarten. To stop his tears, she had promised that he'd make lots of friends and that she'd wait by the swing set to walk him home. Unlike many siblings, they had never been rivals. She was his biggest cheerleader, and he was her unwavering supporter. Throughout high school, she went to every football, basketball, and baseball game he played and tutored him when he needed it. For his part, he was the only one who remained unfazed by her dizzying teenage mood swings. The only disagreement they'd ever had concerned Keith, but unlike Nana, Drake kept his feelings largely to himself. But she knew how he felt, and when she and Keith separated, it was Drake she turned to for support as she tried to find her footing as a newly single mother. And it was Drake, she knew, who kept Keith from pounding on her door late at night in the months immediately afterward. Drake had been the one person she'd ever known that Keith was afraid to cross.
By that point, he'd matured. Not only had he been an excellent athlete in virtually every sport, but he'd taken up boxing when he was twelve. By eighteen, he'd won the Golden Gloves in North Carolina three times, and he sparred regularly with troops stationed at Fort Bragg and Camp Lejeune. It was the hours he spent with them that first made Drake consider enlisting.
He'd never been a great student, and he lasted only a year at a community college before deciding it wasn't for him. She'd been the only one he'd talked to about enlisting. She had been proud of h
is decision to serve his country, her heart bursting with love and admiration the first time she saw him outfitted in his dress blues. Though she had been scared when he was posted to Kuwait and, later, Iraq, she couldn't help but believe that he was going to make it. But Drake Green never did make it home.
She could barely recall the days immediately after she'd learned that her brother had died, and she didn't like to think of them now. His death had left her with an emptiness that she knew would never fill completely. But time had lessened the pain. In the immediacy of his loss, she never would have believed it possible, but she couldn't deny that when she thought of Drake these days, it was usually the happier times she remembered. Even when she visited the cemetery to talk to him, she no longer experienced the agony those visits once aroused. Nowadays, her sadness felt less visceral than her anger.
But it felt real right now, in the wake of the realization that she--like Nana and Ben--was drawn to Thibault, too, if only because she felt an ease with him that she hadn't known with anyone since losing Drake.
And there was this: Only Drake had ever called her by her given name. Neither her parents nor Nana, nor Grandpa, nor any of her friends growing up had ever called her anything but Beth. Keith hadn't, either; to be honest, she wasn't sure he even knew her real name. Only Drake had called her Elizabeth, and only when they were alone. It was their secret, a secret meant for just the two of them, and she'd never been able to imagine how it would sound coming from someone else.
But, somehow, Logan made it sound just right.
11
Thibault
In the fall of 2007, a year after getting out of the Marine Corps, Thibault arranged to meet Victor in Minnesota, a place neither of them had ever been. For both of them, it couldn't have come at a better time. Victor had been married for six months, and Thibault had stood beside him as best man. That had been the only time they'd seen each other since they'd been discharged. When Thibault had called to suggest the trip, he'd suspected that time alone was exactly what Victor needed.
On the first day, as they sat in a small rowboat on the lake, it was Victor who broke the silence.
"Have you been having nightmares?" his friend asked.