“About what?”
“Papa’s health.”
“What am I to do for him?” Logan asked, annoyed that he was arguing this early in the morning. “He mopes about this place every day, tucked away beneath his plaids like an invalid waiting to die.”
“Logan!”
“Tell me I’m wrong,” he countered as his father snorted. They both looked at him, waiting for him to wake, but he didn’t. Logan peered back at his sister. Didn’t she understand that they couldn’t help him when he did not wish to be helped? A man without the desire to live would have his way sooner or later. Logan had accepted it a long time ago. Why couldn’t she? “He’s been this way for years, Arabella. He has no desire for life.”
“He wasn’t always like this,” she argued. “He was different when you were away.”
“Oh, that’s right,” Logan said sarcastically. “When I was in Burma he was the image of good health. No doubt because I was out of the country.”
“It wasn’t because you were gone.”
“No, it was because if I died over there, he’d have to sit up and pay attention to life so that you might find a husband. Which I’m sure is the only reason he’s holding on now, as limp as that hold may be.”
Arabella stared daggers at her brother, but she held her tongue. Perhaps he should have let the matter rest there, but he was in a frightful, argumentative mood, so Logan leaned over the table.
“What? Say I’m wrong. Make any valid point and I will concede on the matter.”
“You’re sodamnunfeeling when it comes to Papa,” she said in a blistering whisper. Logan was surprised that she cursed. “Why are you so harsh in your judgment of him?”
But Logan didn’t want to speak it out loud, didn’t want to admit to his sister that he had argued with his father when he had first joined the service, telling the man that he had enlisted in an endeavor to get away from Scotland in general and him, in particular, since he had run out of sympathy for the old man who had let his grief consume him.
Logan leaned back against his high-backed chair, reaching for his coffee. The bitter, hot liquid burned his throat, but he barely registered it. He glared at his sister.
“If you’re so concerned about his sleep, you should come to Glencoe with me today.”
Arabella’s brow quirked, confused.
“What? Why?”
“I’m going to see Dr. Barkley for something.”
Arabella gave their father a concerned glance.
“But I can’t leave him like this.”
“Like what? Sleeping? He won’t even know you’ve gone.”
“But what if something happens?”
Logan nearly let a biting retort slip but inhaled slowly instead as a plate of food was placed before him.
“Do whatever you wish then.”
They ate the rest of the meal in silence, and then went their separate ways. Logan hadn’t expected to see her again until after his return, but when he was ready to go, Arabella had come hurrying down the stairs, dressed in a pale-violet day gown. His brow went up at the sight of her, but she barely acknowledged him as she hurried out the door.
The ride to the village was quiet, though not for lack of trying on Arabella’s part. She always tried to find some common ground between herself and Logan, searching for a bond that had been severed when he left for war. In truth, they hadn’t been terribly close as children since Arabella was seven years Logan’s junior. Still, she tried to connect with him time and time again, only to be rebuffed.
It wasn’t that Logan didn’t like his sister. On the contrary, he was very fond of her. Arabella was an intelligent, caring young woman, not prone to pouting or bouts of stubbornness. She was delightful, which was why Logan kept his distance. He didn’t wish for his cantankerous disposition to rub off on her. Not to mention that the empathy she felt for their father irked him. It was best to stay out of each other’s way.
Upon reaching the bustling village, Logan was regretfully reminded that it was market day for the local livestock. Dozens of farmers had brought their fattest pigs and cows to be sold to the butcher or possibly individual families. This, of course, made town exceptionally crowded, and as Logan got out of the carriage, he helped his sister out just as a gaggle of geese scurried across the dirt road, barely avoiding being trampled by a group of pigs.
“Blast,” Logan muttered under his breath. He did not like crowded places. “A fine day to come to town.”
“Oh, it’s just a little busy,” Arabella said, standing on her tippy toes to see over the crowd. “Shall we see if the doctor is in?”
