Chapter Five

Dixie woke up abruptly, her hair messy and in her face. She looked around, trying to figure out what had woken her. Then she heard knocking on the door. She checked the time and saw it was two in the morning.

"Who could that be?" she wondered aloud. She got out of bed, put on a robe and grabbed the baseball bat she kept next to her bed for protection. Cautiously, she made her way to the living room.

"Who is it?" she called out.

"It's me. Please, open the door," Logan's voice replied.

Dixie furrowed her eyebrows. What was Logan doing here at this hour? She set down the bat, turned on the porch light, and opened the door slightly, keeping the chain lock in place. He had his hands on each side of the doorjamb with his head down.

"Logan? What's going on?" she asked, noticing the pain on his face when he raised his head.

"He's gone, Dixie," Logan said with a shaky voice. "Dad died."

"Oh, my God." Dixie gasped, closing the door and removing the chain lock before opening it again for him to enter.

Logan leaned against the wall by the door and hung his head. He looked at Dixie with tears streaming down his face. She reached out for his hand and led him into the house. She helped him take off his coat and hat, placing them on a nearby bench before guiding him to sit on the sofa. Dixie then went to the kitchen, poured a shot of whiskey, and brought it back to Logan.

"Here. Drink this," she said softly. "It'll help."

Logan took the glass, gulped it down, and handed it back to her. He closed his eyes and sat back against the sofa while Dixie placed the glass on the coffee table and sat next to him. Despite their complicated past, she knew he was hurting, and she just wanted to be there for him. She took his hand in hers, silently offering her support.

Tears streamed down her face as she remembered the man they had both loved and lost. She knew how much Clint Townson meant to Logan and it broke her heart to see him in such pain.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion.

Logan's sobs wracked his body as he laid his cheek against Dixie's shoulder. She wrapped her arms tightly around him, feeling the weight of his heartache and pain. "When did it happen?" she asked softly.

"About two hours ago," Logan choked out. "He was having trouble breathing, so I called the doctor, and he sent an ambulance. I hated taking him to the hospital... he wanted to die at home, and I let him down."

Dixie shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes. "No, you didn't. You did what was best for him. He knows that. "

"I know... but it doesn't make it any easier," Logan said, sitting forward and clasping his head in his hands. "I don't know what to do without him."

Dixie leaned against his back, placing her cheek against him and cried with him.

After a few minutes, Logan sat back and sighed heavily. He took a deep breath and looked at Dixie with tears in his eyes.

"I'm sorry for waking you. I couldn't go home... when I left the hospital, I just drove around aimlessly until I ended up near your house. I didn't want to be alone," he said.

"You don't have to be alone," Dixie said firmly. "I have a spare bedroom. Please stay here tonight."

Logan shook his head as more tears rolled down his face. "I'll miss him so much."

"I know," Dixie whispered, rubbing his arm soothingly. "But you won't be alright if you're alone right now. You can sleep on the sofa or in the spare room, whatever makes you comfortable."

Logan nodded slightly, a small smile lifting his lips at Dixie's stubbornness.

"Yes, ma'am," he said weakly.

Dixie led him to the spare bedroom. "The bathroom is across the hall. Take a hot shower and try to get some rest."

Logan nodded again. "Thank you, Dixie. I know I'm the last person you want here... but I didn't know where else to go," he admitted.

"It's okay," Dixie said gently. "Just try to get some rest. I'll see you in the morning."

As she quietly closed the door and retreated to her own room, Dixie couldn't stop the tears from falling down her cheeks. She knew how close Logan and Clint had been, and she could only imagine the pain he was feeling now. As she lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, her heart ached for Logan. She would miss Clint Townson, but no one would miss him more than his son.

When she woke up later, the sun was shining through the window. She tossed the blankets aside, stood, and made her way to the bathroom. Leaving the bathroom, she pulled on her robe, tied the belt, and quietly made her way to the door. She opened it and listened but heard nothing, so she stepped into the hall.

As she came to the spare bedroom, she saw the door open, and peered in to see the room empty and the bed made. She smiled as she headed for the kitchen, but it was also empty.

Looking around, she didn't see any sign of him until she looked at the coffee machine to see a small card propped against it. Picking it up, she realized it was Logan's business card and, on the back, he had simply written thank you.

Dixie hoped he was okay. He'd been so torn up and she knew it wasn't going to get better for a long time.

Picking up her cellphone, she found his number on the card and sent him a text.

Are you okay?

No, but I will be. Thanks for last night.

Of course. I loved him too.

I know you did. And he loved you.

Yes, he did. Please let me know when the arrangements have been made and if you need any help, call me.

Thanks, Dixie. Talk soon.

Her heart broke just reading his messages. He was still in a lot of pain, and she knew it would take Logan a very long time to get over losing his father.

She wondered if he'd gone back to the house, but somehow, she knew it would be too hard for him right now and thought about where he could go. As she leaned against the counter waiting for her coffee, she suddenly remembered the little cabin Logan had told her about when they were together. She smiled as she remembered telling him she wanted to see it, but he refused to take her there. It was his and Clint's sanctuary and they were the only ones to go there.

No matter how much she tried to talk him into it, he wouldn't take her. She didn't take it personally. She knew it was where they spent a lot of time together. Either fishing, hunting, or just enjoying a weekend together.

After drinking her coffee, she showered, dressed, and headed to the coffee shop. She had to open at ten and it was almost nine, so she needed to get her butt in gear and get to work. She just hoped Logan was alright.

****

Logan walked out of the funeral home and headed for his truck. His dad had wanted to be cremated, so he would abide by his wishes. He would have a memorial service for him, though, since so many people had loved him.

After leaving Dixie's house this morning, he went home, changed clothes, then saddled his horse and rode to the cabin. He stayed there for a few hours then headed to town to make funeral arrangements. Once that was done, he went to the local paper to put in the announcement for tomorrow's paper.

Then he called Sam to let him know that he'd be out for a while. Sam, being the man he was, told him to take all the time he needed, and he'd help him in any way he could. Logan didn't doubt that for a second.

As he drove home again, he thought about being in that house. The memories, scents, and familiar surroundings were ripping him apart. He was surprised when he saw blue lights behind him and pulled over. He hadn't realized he was speeding. He pulled onto the shoulder and got his information from the glovebox. He was reaching for his wallet when he glanced over to see Deputy Nevada Shelton beside the door. Logan lowered the window.

"Logan? I just heard about Clint. I'm so sorry."

Logan sighed. "Thanks, Nevada. I appreciate that."

"If you need anything, please let me and Courtney know."

"I will. I appreciate it."

"It will get better, but you'll always miss him. I know what you're going through."

"Yeah, you do, don't you? I'm going to try. Thanks again."

"Yep. Talk to you soon." Nevada touched the brim of his hat and walked back to his SUV cruiser, climbed inside, then drove off.

Logan sat on the shoulder of the road for a few minutes, then with a deep sigh, he pulled onto the road and headed home. But, instead of stopping at the house, he pulled up to the barn, got out and entered it. He saddled his horse and rode him to the cabin. He just wanted to be alone, and the cabin was the one place he could be.

He had told the ranch hands this morning about Clint dying and they were all very upset, so Logan told them to take a few days off, and he'd handle everything. The horses were out so the stalls could be cleaned later. He'd probably do that himself and hoped it would take his mind off things.

****

After leaving the coffee shop for the day, Dixie headed to the diner to get some dinner before heading home. When she entered it, it was quiet, and she knew it was because everyone knew about Clint's passing.

She took a seat at the counter and blinked back tears. Her heart ached over his death, but it hurt more because of Logan. They might not have a good relationship anymore, but she knew how hard this was going to be for him, and it broke her heart.

"Hey, Dixie. What can I get you, hon?"

Dixie looked up to see Connie standing at the counter and her eyes were red from crying.

"I'll have my usual, please. "

"I'll be back with that in a few minutes." Connie touched her hand. "Are you doing alright?"

Dixie shook her head. "I'm going to miss him so much."

"I'm sure you will, honey."

"I know Logan is devastated," Dixie said softly, her heart aching for him.

"I bet. They were very close," Connie replied, her voice full of sympathy.

"Connie? Could you make my order to go and an order for Logan, too? His usual is fine. I bet he hasn't eaten at all," Dixie requested, already anticipating his refusal to eat.

"I will. Please tell him we are all thinking about him," Connie agreed, understanding the importance of showing support during such a difficult time.

"I'll do that. Thank you." After Connie placed the bag on the counter in front of her, Dixie stood to remove her wallet from her purse, but Connie waved it away.

"It's on the house. Please make sure he eats," Connie insisted, giving Dixie a knowing look.

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you." Dixie picked up the bag, walked outside and headed for her SUV. Despite the cold biting at her skin and the promise of snow in the air, she was determined to bring some comfort to Logan.

A little while later, she pulled onto the driveway of the Townson property and stopped beside the porch. She glanced around and saw Logan's truck parked by the barn. She stepped out into the frigid air and made her way toward the dark barn, bracing herself against the icy wind.

As she entered the barn, she sighed with relief at the warmth inside. She strode along the aisle but didn't see anyone. The only light came from a small window near the roof. She called out Logan's name but received no response. No surprise there, she thought with a small smile.

Dixie turned to head back to the other end when she saw a figure walking toward her, but she knew it wasn't Logan. She'd recognize his cowboy swagger anywhere.

"Ma'am? Can I help you?" the man asked, his voice friendly yet curious.

"I'm looking for Logan," Dixie replied, still scanning the dimly lit barn for any sign of him.

"I don't know for sure where he is. He took off on his horse about an hour ago," the man explained, concern evident in his tone. "He told us all to go home, but I know the stalls need cleaned, and I didn't want to have Logan do it."

"I see. Well, thank you." She turned to go but faced him again. "Do you know where the cabin is?"

The man nodded. "I do."

"Can you tell me where? I brought him dinner from the diner. I'm sure he hasn't eaten much," Dixie explained, hoping she could at least provide some nourishment for Logan.

When the man stepped closer, she saw he was an older gentleman with kind eyes.

"He probably hasn't eaten a thing. He's taking it hard," the man said sadly, shaking his head .

"They were close." Dixie couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness for both Logan and this man who worked closely with Clint.

He removed his hat and put his hand out to her. "I'm Carl Sanborn, the foreman."

Dixie shook his hand. "Dixie McCarthy. I'm… friends with Logan and I knew Clint."

"Clint was a hell of a good man," Carl said, his voice catching with emotion.

"Yes, he was. I'm sure you'll miss him."

"Yes, ma'am. I can tell you where the cabin is, but the weather is getting bad," Carl warned, glancing out at the darkening sky.

"Can I drive my SUV there?"

"You can." He told her how to get to the cabin. "That's the only place I can figure Logan would be, since he rode his horse."

"Alright. Thank you, Carl."

"You be careful, Ms. Dixie. That snow is not letting up."

"I will. I just want to get some food to him. I know how stubborn Logan Townson can be," she said with a smile, grateful for the kindness and understanding of this stranger.

Carl nodded, smiled, and walked back through the barn.

Taking a deep breath, Dixie walked back out into the snow and climbed into her vehicle, then drove along the road to find the cabin. As she drove along the muddy road, she hoped that's where Logan was. If not, she had no idea how to find him.

*** *

Logan sat on the worn, sofa in the small cabin, his eyes fixed on the rough wooden walls. The memories of past laughter and joy within these walls now only served as a painful reminder of what had been lost. Every corner, every piece of furniture held a memory that threatened to overwhelm him.

Suddenly, his thoughts were interrupted by the sweep of headlights across the ceiling. Who could possibly be out in this treacherous weather, and why were they coming here? Curiosity piqued, Logan rose from the sofa and approached the window to get a better look. But all he could see were the bright lights, blinding against the darkness.

Intrigued and slightly wary, Logan flipped on the porch light before cautiously opening the door. His breath caught in his throat when he saw Dixie stepping out of her vehicle with a bag in tow. She trudged through the snow and climbed the steps to the cabin without hesitation. He couldn't help but wonder how she knew where to find him.

"What are you doing here?" Logan asked as he stared at Dixie.

She held up the bag in her hand. "I brought you something to eat."

"I'm not hungry. How did you even know where this place was?"

Dixie's expression softened. "Carl told me when I saw him at the barn."

"How did you know I would be here?"

"Logan, where else would you go? This place holds special memories for you and Clint."

He gazed at her for a moment before turning away and leaving the door open for her. Sitting back down on the sofa, he watched as she removed her coat and hat and placed them neatly on a chair by the door. Then she made her way to the small kitchen area and set the bag on the counter before opening it.

Logan's stomach grumbled at the smell of Connie's homemade burgers and onion rings wrapped in aluminum foil. But he had no appetite, not with the weight of grief crushing his chest.

"Please, Logan. You have to keep your strength up," Dixie urged as she carried the food over to him and set it on the coffee table.

"I'm not hungry," he replied flatly.

"You need to eat. These next few days are going to be difficult for you."

Logan let out a resigned sigh. "I know, but I just don't have an appetite."

"Not even for one of Connie's famous burgers?"

He looked at her incredulously. "Why do you even care if I eat or not? You hate me, remember?"

Dixie's expression softened as she reached out to touch his arm. "I know you're hurting—"

"And that makes you happy, doesn't it?" Logan interrupted bitterly.

She shook her head sadly. "No, it doesn't. Please, just eat something."

"Why bother pretending to care now, Dixie? Just go." He gestured for her to leave.

"I don't want to argue with you," she pleaded .

A small smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Since when?"

Dixie let out a heavy sigh, the sound weighted with sorrow and exhaustion. She spoke softly, her voice strained with emotion. "I don't want to argue about this with you. You know I loved Clint, but no matter how much I'll miss him, I know it's nothing compared to what you're feeling, Logan." Her words hung in the air between them like a heavy cloud of sadness.

Logan leaned his head back against the plush sofa, tears rolling down his cheeks. Dixie sat beside him and gently touched his arm, causing him to look at her. He saw that tears were also streaming down her cheeks, evidence of her own grief for his father.

"I'd better go," Dixie said softly, her voice full of concern. "It was snowing when I got here, and it hasn't let up. Logan, please eat. You have some rough days ahead." She reached out to touch his hand in comfort.

Logan couldn't help but feel grateful for her presence and her offer to help.

"Are you having a service?" she asked.

Logan nodded solemnly. "Yes," he replied hoarsely. "Dad wanted to be cremated, so I'll honor his wishes. But I am having a service for him after."

"What do you want me to do? I can help you with this," Dixie offered sincerely, her hand still resting on his.

Logan squeezed her hand gratefully and felt relieved when she didn't pull away. "I don't know if I can get through this alone, Dixie," he admitted with a shaky breath. "I would appreciate the help."

"Then I'll help you," she promised without hesitation. "What do you need?"

"Right now, nothing," Logan said with a heavy heart. "I just want to be alone."

"Okay," Dixie said understandingly. "Call me or send me a text when you're ready."

"I'll never be ready for this," Logan replied bleakly.

"That's what I'm here for," Dixie reminded him gently. "Please, let me know. I'd better get going."

Logan nodded numbly as she walked toward the door. He watched her turn back to face him one last time before leaving. "Eat," she urged softly. "I'll talk to you later." She paused, her hand resting on the doorknob. "Do I need to do anything with your horse?"

Logan shook his head. "No. He's in the stall at the back of the cabin."

"Goodnight, Logan," Dixie said with a sad smile. "Please get some sleep. You need it."

He nodded again but didn't say anything in response. As he heard the door close behind her, he sat up and unwrapped the food she had brought for him. Despite his grief and exhaustion, he forced himself to take a few bites before setting it down. The food felt heavy in his stomach, a reminder of the crushing weight of loss that rested in his chest.

With a heavy heart, he kicked off his boots and lay down on the sofa, pulling a quilt over himself for warmth and comfort. He knew he would eventually have to tend to the fire in the stove, but for now, all he wanted was to close his eyes and escape from the pain of losing his father.

****

As Dixie drove back home, she couldn't stop the tears from falling. Her heart ached for Logan, and she wished she could take away his pain. She knew it would take time for him to heal from this loss.

Once she arrived at her house, she parked the car and made her way inside. The snow was coming down heavily and the bitter cold seeped through her coat. She hoped Logan would stay warm in the cabin. The only source of heat seemed to be a potbelly stove with logs stacked next to it. The cabin had been warm, but tonight it would be bitterly cold outside.

Dixie took off her coat and hat and headed to the living room to watch some TV. With how much it was snowing, she doubted she'd be able to make it to work at the coffee shop tomorrow. She picked up her phone and called Celine.

"Hey, Dixie."

"Hi, Celine. If this snow continues, I won't be able to come in tomorrow."

"That's okay. It looks pretty rough out there. I'll open the shop, but if no customers come in, I'll just head home. Lucky for me, I live above the shop."

"True. It takes a lot for this town to shut down, but sometimes heavy snowfall does the trick."

"What's wrong? You sound upset."

Dixie let out a sigh and explained about Clint's passing and how Logan was coping.

"Oh no, I'm so sorry. You mentioned he was sick, but I didn't know it would be so soon. Poor Logan," Celine sympathized.

"He's really struggling with it, Celine. My heart breaks for him. We may have a complicated history, but I know he's really hurting. I promised him I would help in any way I can."

"If you need any assistance, don't hesitate to let me know."

"I appreciate that. I was thinking of talking to Connie about preparing some food after the service. I'll see if Logan wants people to gather at his house or at the town hall."

"That's a great idea. Let me know if you need help with coffee. Oh, and talk to Sloane too. She could bring some sweets for everyone."

"Good thinking. I'll reach out once I speak with Logan again."

"Okay. Keep in touch. If you need anything, just call me." Celine hung up the phone.

After talking with Logan the next day, Dixie made the arrangements for everyone to go to the town hall after the memorial service.