he doubted he’d find out. He wasn’t made for staying put, and the example of his parents’ marriage hadn’t provided much in the way of motivation, either.
Like Duck, Logan was a storyteller, and storytellers seek freedom and adventure. He expressed himself through images instead of words. Duck hadn’t written A Shadow on Sand until he hit his thirties. This would be Logan’s decade, too. He just needed the right story. The right project.
He rose from the stool and carried Peyton’s bowl and spoon to the dishwasher for her. “Go rest. I’ll run these errands, and then, when I return, maybe we can work a bit on the memoir.”
He’d convinced his sister to document her journey from diagnosis through remission with a journal and weekly photographs. She’d even gone so far as to allow him to take raw pictures in the hospital and at home. Neither knew exactly how the project would ultimately come together, but it had given them a vehicle for so many emotions throughout the trying experience. Beneath his tears, hugs, and occasional sarcasm had lain a bone-deep terror of losing the person he most adored in life. His only confidante. In a twisted way, he was almost grateful for all of it, though, because he’d never felt closer to her than he did now.
Peyton sighed. “Fine.”
She wasn’t, but coddling never helped her move forward. Logan nodded and snatched the list from the fridge. “See you later.”
He had no idea why his mother needed Krazy Glue, an X-Acto knife, and carpet cleaner today, but his role was not to question. Logan walked into Lockwood Hardware, a place he’d loitered in as a kid. The two-story shop hadn’t changed much at all since his childhood.
Same dusty aisles he’d roamed every summer as a kid with Ben and Ryan, each of them investigating every doodad on the shelves. Just as often, Mr. Lockwood would empty the change from the gumball machine and let them take it to buy ice cream or get bait from the local tackle shop.
Logan was crouching to reach the Krazy Glue when he heard Ben Lockwood speaking to another customer at the cash register.
A genuine smile formed from someplace deep in his chest. Ben and Ryan were two of the reasons Logan had looked forward to helping Peyton recover here in Sanctuary Sound. It’d been years since he and his old buddies had been in the same place at the same time.
A reunion might help him reconnect to a part of himself that had gotten lost in the last decade. The part that might have something genuine and interesting to say.
He strode down the aisle, noting the similarities between Ben and his sister, Steffi. Tall, athletic builds. Hair in shades from caramel to umber. A warm skin tone and golden-brown eyes.
“Benny Boy,” Logan teased as he laid his mother’s booty on the counter and stuck out his hand. “How the hell are you?”
It took a second for Logan to register the tension tugging at the corners of Ben’s smile. “Logan. You look good.”
“Thanks, so do you. I just saw Steffi and Ryan earlier today. How about that reunion?” He folded his arms across his chest, widening his smile as if that might jostle Ben out of his unusually stiff manner.
“It’s been good to have my sister home and see her happy.”
Logan nodded. “I hope I can say the same thing in the coming months.”
“I hope Peyton’s feeling better soon.” Ben’s gaze drifted away. He didn’t elaborate, ask questions, or offer to send a message to her, all of which Logan found odd. Offensive, even.
“So do I.” Logan pushed his items forward and Ben rang them up. “Maybe you could swing by the house and visit. Come with Steffi. It’d be good for Peyton to see old friends.”
Ben flashed a sad kind of smile and scratched the back of his neck. “Maybe . . .”
He ran Logan’s card, bagged up the goods, and tossed the receipt in the bag without another word. Just that weak smile pasted on his face.
“Before I jump to conclusions, let me ask—do we have some problem, or are you just having an off day?”
“Sorry?” Ben stapled the paper bag shut and set it aside.
Logan tugged the bag closer. “You don’t seem happy to see me, and given the magnitude of my sister’s health issues, your lack of interest in her is glaring.”
“We’ve got no problem, Logan. And I wish Peyton well with her recovery, but things are complicated.”
“How so?”
Ben crossed his arms