Page 66 of Embattled Return
Logan sighed, seriously hoping that Ashley would be an ally. He glanced at Marigold, waiting so patiently. “I’m ready.”
They didn’t say anything as they headed out of Boulder, and he appreciated that. It gave him some time to collect his thoughts.
For some reason, he’d expected Lisa’s anger, but she’d always been a practical person. She’d been former military. Logan hadn’t expected the irrationality and the loss of control that left her screaming. Looking back, he wasn’t sure what he should have done sooner. Maybe come to her first? Showing up so many months after the incident had to seem disrespectful to their relationship. He could see that now.
There had been glimmers of truth in what she’d said, though. It was his fault that Miller was dead. There was no escaping that detail. Why did he deserve to live after Miller had died?
“You’ve gotten very quiet over there,” Marigold said softly.
Logan watched her shift gears as they slid through traffic. It was seamless, the way she moved, and he remember the feel of a manual transmission. There was a lot of leg work involved, and he doubted he would ever be able to drive one again, just because he wouldn’t have the muscle control. He could admire the grace it took to drive smoothly, though.
Logan looked at Marigold’s profile. Her black-framed glasses were parked firmly on her nose, and he could see the reflection of the car’s headlights coming toward them in the lenses. Her hair was back in a low ponytail, but it lay over her shoulder to the front. He wanted to see it spread out across the pillow again as he slid into her.
Why did he get to have a relationship, though? Why did he get to go on with his life?
They pulled up to a red light and Marigold reached for her phone. That kind of surprised him. She was very cautious about when she used her cell. It looked like she tapped out a message and sent it. Just a few seconds later, the screen lit up with a response. “Everything okay?”
She nodded, not saying anything. Logan watched the dark scenery pass by, content to be silent. Night had arrived and he hadn’t even noticed. They’d left LNF hours ago. They drove through a more crowded suburban area with shopping malls and restaurants, then back into the darker night.
A few minutes later, though, they pulled into what appeared to be a nice subdivision. The houses were built very similar, but owners had tried to individualize them with landscaping and different paint themes. He had no idea where they were, though, when she pulled into a driveway. Until he spotted the black truck.
“Is this John’s house?”
“John and Shannon’s, yes. Come on.”
There was a wooden handicapped ramp on the front of the pretty house, and he didn’t know what to think about that. John Palmer seemed stronger than to even admit to needing one of those. “Why are we here, Marigold?”
“Because you need to talk to John about things I can’t help you with,” she said simply, before turning off the car and heading up the ramp.
Gritting his teeth, Logan climbed out of the car as well, legs aching, soul aching. John had more experience with this stuff, so maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to talk to him.
Petite Shannon answered the door with a little boy on her hip. She grinned at them and stepped back. “Enter at your own risk,” she told them, laughing. “This is Caden.”
Marigold laughed as she crossed the threshold and Logan stepped in behind her. The Palmers had a beautiful house inside with all hardwood floors, probably easier for John’s wheels, though it was cluttered with brightly colored toddler toys at the moment. There was a toddler in a car thing on the floor. Shannon motioned to him. “And that’s Wyatt.”
The two boys looked very similar with dark hair and pale eyes, but the one in the go-cart thing was definitely bigger. He was probably a lot for Shannon to handle, considering her size. Marigold had knelt down on the floor and was talking to the little man. “Aren’t you a bruiser?” she said, wiggling his hand.
Wyatt grinned at her and pounded the tray of the conveyance.
“What is that thing he’s in?” Logan asked Shannon.
“That’s a walker. Wyatt doesn’t really need it, he’s pretty steady on his feet, but it does help slow him down a little, and keep him corralled,” she laughed. “That’s more for my sake.”
A blond dog with a lot of hair had also wandered up to them, sniffing their legs. “That’s Carmella,” Shannon continued, “and there are a couple of cats running around as well, so watch your step.”
Logan moved forward cautiously, watching where he put the tips of his crutches.
“Marigold, if you occupy Wyatt for a moment, I’ll show Logan where John is.”
“Can do,” she said with a smile.
She was about to turn away when he grabbed her hand and turned her around. Knowing eyes were on him, he dropped a quick kiss to her surprised mouth. “Back in a bit,” he winked.
Marigold seemed a little shocked at the interaction, but she smiled softly at him. “Okay.”
Logan’s smile faded as he followed Shannon across the big room and into a beautiful kitchen, then through a door and onto a ramp down into a garage. It was a two-car garage, one side taken up by a four-door Jeep, and the rest of the space was taken up by man-cave ‘stuff’, and something covered with a big tarp. There was a TV on one wall broadcasting a football game, and a couple of neon beer signs. At the other end of the bench was a massive gun safe, the door open. Logan wanted to peer inside, but that would be rude.
John sat at a wooden workbench, the pieces of an M4 scattered on the surface. He wore a pair of glasses, but when they came in he ripped them off his head and tossed them aside.