Secrets of the Past

by Kerri G.

Part 2

It wasn't that easy to get rid of him. He simply followed her. She could have tried to lose him with a quick fade into the shadows until he left, but what would be the point? Now that Jess had both his parents in his life, she had to cope with Logan until he died.

Which might come sooner than expected if he wouldn't leave her alone.

"Where we goin'?"

"I'm going to the village. You know where you can go."

"Been there, darlin'," he drawled out.

"Good, then I won't have to point the way."

"I'm tryin' to get along wi' ya. Y'could at least meet me halfway."

She stopped, an incredulous look on her face. "Halfway? You have no idea what you're saying."

"Why don't ya explain it to me?"

They faced each other, nose to nose. Neither one would give in.

She held the trump card, and she was goaded into playing it. "Fine. You want to know, I'll show you. Hell, you can have it all."

~*~*~*~*~

Once in the village, she headed directly for a small lodge on the outskirts. Inside the dim interior, she removed several planks in the wood floor, exposing a small safe set into the ground. He could hear her spin the dial, then lift the handle.

Charlotte pulled out a packet of papers, selected several envelopes, then put the rest back, re-locking the safe. "Here," she said shortly, dropping them in his hand. "This will explain everything. After that, you can get out of my life."

Logan looked down at the envelopes in his hand. They were old, brown with age. He looked up to see her disappear in the direction of the lake. Taking a seat on a log, he contemplated the possibilities of what she'd given him. A piece of his past, something real. He wasn't sure he was ready for this, but nothing could stop him now.

He opened the flap of the first one, sliding out the single sheet of paper. A telegram, dated September 12, 1945. 'We regret to inform you that Sgt. John Logan has been classified as Missing In Action...'

Missing in action. A standard designation for a misplaced life. It didn't surprise him. He had no memories of that time period, it very likely happened to him.

He took a deep breath, then carefully folded the paper and put it back in the envelope. Setting it aside, he picked up the next one.

There were two pieces of paper in this one. He folded them out, then read the first one. 'Certificate of Live Birth.' Jess Ashcroft Logan. Born November 10, 1942. Mother - Charlotte Katherine Ashcroft. Father - John Logan.

A half-smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. The boy was his. No matter Hank's tests and the other assurances, this brought it home to him. A birth certificate, with his name, at least what he was fairly sure had been his name, listed as the father.

He opened the next sheet of paper. It was now he felt the earth spin out of control beneath him, the sky fall down to crush him under the weight of the clouds.

'Certificate of Marriage.'

He closed his eyes. Impossible. It had to be impossible.

He opened them again. It was possible. John Logan. That was his signature. Married Charlotte Katherine Ashcroft on July 8, 1942.

Married. As in 'till death do us part.'

The third envelope he almost didn't open, didn't want whatever psyche bomb it would drop on him, but he couldn't stop now. He'd as good as challenged her to know the truth, he wouldn't give her the satisfaction of thinking him a coward.

This envelope contained two photographs. The first one was a candid shot of him and her. He recognized his younger self, she hadn't changed. The expression on her face was the difference. Her picture-self was in love, she glowed with it in the black and white photo. It showed him sitting on the ground under a tree, her reclining back between his legs, her face resting against his chest, tucked under his chin. Her eyes were closed, short curly hair floating around her face. He had his arms around her, one hand tangled in her hair, his chin rested on the top of her head.

He saw something he never remembered seeing when he dared to really look at himself. Contentment. Happiness. Love.

He wondered for a moment who took the picture.

The second one was a more formal shot of a family. He cradled an eight month old Jess in the crook of his arm, Charlotte leaned over his shoulder, resting her head against his. Jess had one tiny hand against his father's face, his nearly toothless grin wide. They looked happy.

He dropped the pictures in his lap, clenching his hands against the unexpected rush of anger at what had been stolen from him.

No wonder she hated him. As far as she knew, he'd been dead for more than 50 years. She'd married him, had his son, and then had been widowed. She'd raised the boy alone, with her grown son for help. All he'd left her with was a child and these few pieces of paper that put an end to whatever dreams she had. Dreams they had.

They must have dreamed of a future together.

She had every right to hate, and she was so good at it. Those 'go to hell' looks she gave him made sense now, it was a place she knew intimately. He might not remember, but he was the reason she'd been there.

If he was any kind of man he'd let her take any revenge she wanted and thank her for it; then go away and leave her alone.

He wasn't that kind of man. He had a piece of his past now, and he wasn't letting go.

~*~*~*~*~

"There was more to the story then y'were tellin' me before," he said in a carefully neutral voice. He had himself back under control, unaccustomed though it was. He couldn't show any weakness to her, she'd pounce on it and use it to beat him down.

Charlotte lay on an overhang by the edge of the lake, trailing her fingers in the water. "It wasn't important."

"I'd like to see what y'call important, then."

"You did. Both of them."

He had to concede that point. "If I believe this," he patted the pocket he'd tucked the envelopes in, "we're married."

"Believe?" Charlotte laughed bitterly. She sat up, drawing her knees up to her chest in a protective gesture. It was too funny. He was forcing his way into her life and calling her a liar. "Don't believe, it'll make things that much easier for me."

"Not my aim in life to make things easy on ya, darlin'."

"It doesn't matter whether you believe me or not. I've managed to get through the last half century without you, I can get through the next one, too"

"But we're married." The fact she was resisting so much perversely made him want to accept it. If it guaranteed she'd be the most interesting sparring partner he'd had in a long time, he'd do just about anything to rile her up good.

"I don't think that'll hold up in a court of law, if that's what you're worried about. No one would believe it. I thought I was a widow, but I can fix that. I'll have my lawyer file divorce papers tomorrow. I don't see any problems, it's not like we have a real marriage." She made a face at him. "I'll claim desertion. That ought to work."

Her fast reply stung him. "Mebbe I don't want a divorce."

"What? You don't know anything about me. Why would you want to stay married to me?"

"So? I'll get to know y'again."

"What do you think this is, some TV show? You find out you've got a son and a wife, now you want to play house? It's too late for that."

"Never too late, darlin'."

"Stop calling me that! I am not your darling. I used to be, then you disappeared. I raised a child and I managed to lead a fairly ordinary life without you. I want to keep on living my life without you!"

"Ya don't mean that." He felt confident on that one. She believed what she was saying, but he could smell the lies. The woman who'd confessed love to him in a weak moment was still inside this angry, hurting one. He just had to reach her.

Charlotte bit down on the urge to scream, then decided...why? She opened her mouth and let it go.

~*~*~*~*~

Paige looked up from the box she was packing. "What was that?"

~Somebody huntin' 'round here, mebbe, sunshine?~ Jono shrugged. ~Ya see the music collection Jazz's got?~

~*~*~*~*~

She was so mad her face turned an alarming shade of red. Instead of attacking him this time, she went the other way, into the lake.

Logan watched her stroke out towards the other side, shaking his head, then turned and started back to the house. She'd find her way home sooner or later. He'd just wait for her there.

End Part 2.

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