Give Me Liberty

by Anne Brock

  "Are you all right, Luke?"

  Luke opened his eyes to find himself staring into Rich's concerned face.

  "Come on, buddy," Rich said. "They called our flight number. We can get on the plane now."

  Luke shook his head. "No," he said, standing up straighter. "No, it's too much of a long shot. Rich, I'm going home."

  He didn't care about selling the video stores. Hey, he didn't even care about buying back the goddamned back acres of his land anymore. He didn't care about anything — except seeing Lib again. Had it really been more than five days since he'd held her in his arms? Five days ago he'd planned to return from Boston in time for dinner, take Lib into his arms and tell her that he loved her. He'd planned to ask her to marry him, and he'd hoped that she'd say yes. He'd hoped that they'd make love again. Lord, he wanted to make love to her again.

  I loved what we did this morning. Lord, he'd loved it, too. He loved her. He loved Liberty, and he'd been away from her for too damn long.

  Luke looked at his watch. It was getting close to dinner time — but he was five days off schedule.

  He turned, searching for an airline counter where he could buy a one-way ticket home, but Rich was in his way.

  "Luke." Rich had on his patient face. "We're halfway to Texas. I know it's a long shot, but face it, it's our last shot. You're not really going to give up that easily, are you?"

  There wasn't even the slightest flicker of hesitation in Luke's dark eyes. "I don't need this," Luke said, and to his own surprise, he actually meant it. "I've kept Lib waiting way too long." He smiled, feeling his fatigue lifting off of him, like some great weight suddenly gone from his shoulders. "I'm outs here."

  "But what about this deal?" Rich said, following Luke away from the boarding gates.

  "Screw the deal," Luke said.

  "What about your land?"

  Luke got into a line marked 'Passengers Purchasing Tickets'. He smiled at Rich. "Lib thinks that by owning a share in the corporation, I still own that land," he said, then laughed. I think I can take that woman on one hell of a honeymoon with the nine hundred thousand dollars I have sitting in the bank."

  The line moved forward leaving Rich standing all by himself. "Honeymoon?" he said, scrambling to follow Luke. "Did I hear you say honeymoon?"

  * * *

  "They offered two-sixty."

  Lib stared at Brenda.

  "They absolutely adored it," Brenda said. "I don't know how many times Bess Wiltshire commented on the design of this kitchen. And when they both saw that pond up in the back field — I'm telling you, they loved it!"

  Two hundred and sixty thousand dollars. It was so much more than Luke had thought Lib would get for the farm, back when he'd first offered to loan her money, back when he'd believed she wasn't interested in sticking around.

  According to the agreement she'd made with him, if she sold the farm, she'd have to pay back the money he had loaned her plus thirty percent of her profit. Luke's take would provide him with the money he needed to buy back his land from Ken Avery, to realize his dream.

  How could she say no?

  Lib took a deep breath. "Let's do it," she said. "But they have to pay in cash, and we have to close before Friday, the 15th."

  As Brenda picked up the kitchen phone to call the Wiltshires, Lib went out on the back porch.

  The sun was setting, and the early evening light made the field and surrounding hillside seem to glow. The pond would be absolutely calm in the evening stillness, like a mirror, Lib knew, without a breeze to ripple its surface. .She heard the enthusiastic tone of Brenda's voice as she spoke to the buyers on the phone, and she felt her stomach tighten nervously. Was she doing the right thing?

  She heard Brenda hang up the phone, heard the screen door open as Luke's sister joined her out on the porch. "You've got a deal," Brenda said. "If it's okay with you, they want to close in the morning — at ten. That's when their attorney can fly up from New York with the money. Fortunately everything on our end is in order. Because you just inherited the property, there's already been a title search, and the land was surveyed within the past few months. I know a guy with a truck who can help you move your things out tonight. You don't have that much in the house, and I can help you pack. The Wiltshire's are really excited. They absolutely love this house."

  They loved this house. Lib loved it, too.

  But she loved Luke more.

  * * *

  Luke caught the stewardess's arm. "What's the deal?" he asked. 'Why aren't we taking off?"

  The woman smiled at him. "Weather delays," she said apologetically. "It's raining so hard, we're having flooding on the runways."

  Luke looked at his watch. The flight was already nearly fifty minutes late.

  "How much longer are they going to hold us here?" Rich asked.

  "I don't know, sir."

  "May I use the phone?" Luke asked.

  "I'm sorry, phones aren't available on this flight," the stewardess said.

  Luke tried to control the impatience that was bubbling inside of him. It wasn't this woman's fault that they couldn't get off the ground. Snapping at her would only make him feel worse.

  "Can you bring us a couple of sodas?" Rich asked. "And some aspirin?" Luke added. "Extra strength?"

  * * *

  Lib watched Brenda's friends load her bed into their truck. That was it. With the exception of her bedroll and her suitcase, the last of her things were out of the house.

  "Are you sure you don't want to stay with me tonight?" Brenda asked.

  "Yeah," Lib said. "Thanks, but I don't mind sleeping on the floor." She smiled, for the first time in what seemed like hours. "I want to be here in case Luke calls."

  Brenda smiled back at her. "He's going to be really surprised," she said. "Really surprised."

  Lib closed the tailgate, making sure her things had been securely tied down in the back of the truck. "Come on," she said. "By the time we get this stuff to Bellow's Falls it'll be past ten. I don't want to have to wait for Wednesday to talk to Luke on the phone."

  * * *

  Luke looked at his watch. Ten o'clock. They'd sat in the stuffy cabin of the plane for nearly four hours. Atlanta air traffic control had finally admitted it would be another few hours before the flight to Boston left the ground, so the passengers were being allowed to disembark.

  Luke stood in line for the pay phones, impatiently tap-ping his foot. Finally it was his turn. He entered his calling card number and dialed Lib's.

  Finally the phone was ringing. Once, twice, three times and she still didn't pick up. Luke let it ring another ten times before he allowed himself to admit Lib probably wasn't home.

  It was ten o'clock at night. Where was she?

  Luke forced his feelings of unease back down. He was stuck here in Atlanta for a few more hours at least. He wouldn't get to Sterling until morning, and that was going by the best case scenario. Lib was probably picking up some groceries. Or maybe she was in the shower.

  He quickly punched in Brenda's phone number, but she wasn't home either, and she'd forgotten to turn on her answering machine again.

  Before relinquishing the telephone to the next person in line, Luke tried Lib's number one more time.

  Where was she?

  * * *

  Lib heard the phone ringing as Brenda dropped her off, and ran for the house. The front door was locked — Brenda must've done that when they were leaving — and she fumbled for her key. Finally, finally she got the door open and ran into the kitchen.

  She grabbed for the phone.

  Too late. A dial tone buzzed impersonally at her.

  Cursing, she hung up the phone.

  * * *

  By the time Luke finally got to Boston, there was a crowd waiting to use the pay phones. After searching the terminal for an available telephone, Luke gritted his teeth and got in line. It was eight-thirty in the morning by the time he dialed Lib's number.

  It only rang twice, and then a recorded voice c
ame on, saying that the line was no longer in service.

  Luke was frustrated, convinced that his fingers had slipped in dialing. When he got the message a second time, his frustration turned to confusion. The third time it happened, he called the operator.

  Luke managed to keep his voice calm, but it took a great deal of effort. "Yeah," he said, when the operator came on the line. "I'm trying to call someone, but I keep getting a recording that says the line's out of service. Can you tell me what's going on? I mean, are the lines down in that area or something?"

  "What was that number?" the operator asked.

  Luke gave the woman Lib's area code and phone number.

  Maybe they had some heavy weather last night in Sterling. Maybe that had caused some kind of malfunction. Maybe, Lord, maybe Lib had forgotten to pay her phone bill, and her service was disconnected. Luke could come up with a vast array of reasons why her phone wasn't working. But none of the reasons he came up with managed to keep the fear away. It was tiny, the fear. It was just the wisp of a cold needle that pricked at his heart. But it was enough to make his mouth dry and his stomach churn.

  Because maybe Lib had left town.

  Lord, if Lib had left

  "No," the operator finally said. "No, there's no trouble on the line. I'm sorry, sir, that line has been disconnected. As of eight a.m. today."

  The needle became a knife. "Thank you," Luke managed to say before he hung up the phone.

  There had to be a reason for it — a reason why Lib would have turned off her phone service. But Luke couldn't come up with a single one

  Except that she had broken her promise to him and had left Sterling.

  * * *

  After the closing, after the sale had been made and the keys to the Harlowe house handed over to the new owners, Brenda gave Liberty a hug.

  "Don't look so sad," Luke's sister said. "How can you look so sad when you're holding a check that's got six digits?"

  Lib smiled halfheartedly, glancing toward the other side of the conference room where the Wiltshire's, the new owners, were talking to the bank's attorney.

  "I think to cheer yourself up, you should start planning a vacation," Brenda said. She grinned wickedly. "Dare I use the 'H' word?"

  The 'H' word? Honeymoon. Lib blushed.

  "I've got to recommend Barbados," Brenda said. "It's gorgeous. And very romantic."

  Lib smiled, picturing herself and Luke together in a tropical paradise. She could imagine the sun-filled days — white beaches, blue sky, aqua water — and the hot nights... She glanced at Brenda. "Barbados, huh?"

  The Wiltshire's came over to shake Lib's hand again before they left.

  "Do you have plans to renovate any other old houses in this area?" Bess Wiltshire asked. "Because I have friends who would definitely be interested."

  "That's actually not a bad idea," Lib said. She looked at Brenda and grinned. "But first I think I'm gonna take a side trip to Barbados."

  * * *

  The tires of Luke's rental car squealed as he turned the comer of Forest Road.

  In just a few seconds, this nightmare would be over. He'd pull into Lib's driveway, and he would see her, perched on a ladder, painting the trim of the house. His fear would vanish, everything would be exactly the same as it was before he went to Boston. She would smile, then rush down the ladder to meet him. She'd probably be wearing those ragged jeans shorts she wore that were covered with old splotches of paint. Maybe she'd be wearing a bathing suit top, and when he pulled her into his arms, he'd run his hands across her smooth, golden-tanned shoulders and back. She would kiss him the way she did that morning he left and they'd go into the house, into her bedroom and make love again and

  A strange car sat in the drive. It was a dark shade of red — a big, boxy all-terrain vehicle.

  The fear was back in full, terrifying force.

  Luke threw the car into park, leaving it right on the street. He ran up the walk, onto the porch.

  The door was ajar, and he opened the screen and went inside the house.

  Lib's tape player wasn't on the mantel in the living room. Luke stared at the spot where it had sat accompanied by piles of cassette tapes, then turned and took the stairs two at a time, up to the second floor.

  The door to her bedroom was closed. Luke pushed it open and went into the room.

  Empty.

  Everything was gone.

  Lib's bed, the antique vanity she had taken from the stash of furniture at the Bellow's Falls self-storage place, the ancient trunk that Harriet had used to store sheets and towels and the canopy that had hung over the old bed, Lib's suitcase — it was all gone.

  The hardwood floor gleamed. There wasn't even a hair-clip or a pencil on the floor. Not one single piece of dust had been left behind as proof that at one time Lib had even ever been there.

  She was gone.

  Luke stood in the middle of the room, amazed that he was still functioning, amazed that he could continue to breathe, to think, even to stand up through the intensity of the pain that surrounded him.

  "Can I help you?"

  Slowly, Luke turned toward the door. A man and a woman stood there, looking at him.

  The woman wasn't Lib.

  "You must be looking for Liberty Jones," she said. "She sold us the house this morning."

  Sold.

  The house.

  "I'm Cameron Wiltshire," the man said, holding out his hand, "and this is my wife, Bess."

  Luke managed to shake hands and introduce himself to his new neighbors.

  "Did Lib—" he started to say, then stopped. He couldn't ask. But he had to. "Do you know where Lib went?"

  "I think..." Cameron Wiltshire looked at his wife. "Didn't she say something about... "

  "Barbados," Bess Wiltshire said decisively. "She definitely said something about going to Barbados."

  What was left of Luke's heart was demolished.

  Somehow he managed to walk down the stairs and out of the house. Somehow he drove the rental car back down Forest Road and parked it in his driveway.

  The inside of his house was stuffy and hot from the windows being shut all those days he was away. But Luke didn't notice, didn't open the place up.

  It didn't matter, nothing mattered.

  Liberty Jones was gone.

  Chapter Ten

  Lib locked the door to her room with a sigh and headed for the lobby of Gate's Mountain resort. Brenda still hadn't heard from Luke, wherever he was in Texas. But the last time he called, he'd said he'd maybe be back by Wednesday — tomorrow.

  Lib was heading over to Luke's house now, stopping by Brenda's first to pick up his key. She wanted to leave him a message, telling him where she was staying. She'd tried calling his answering machine, but he hadn't turned it on before he left town. And she didn't want to leave a note for him outside, where it could be rained on or blown away.

  Lib went down the elegantly curving staircase that led to the hotel lobby. Gate's Mountain was a nice place. Expensive, but very nice.

  She stopped short, then sidestepped some people who had moved into her line of vision, craning her neck to get a better view.

  No, she wasn't hallucinating. Luke was sitting alone in the dining room of the Inn! True, his back was to her, but it had to be him. Lib would recognize the back of that head anywhere.

  Eagerly, she crossed the lobby and went into the restaurant. He turned slightly toward her, and she saw his familiar, elegant profile.

  Dodging tables, she hurried over to him. "Luke!"

  He looked directly at her, and for a fraction of a second, Lib saw unmistakable shock in Luke's dark brown eyes.

  Why on earth would he be so surprised to see her? Lib didn't bother trying to figure it out. As he rose to his feet, she launched herself into his arms.

  "You're back," she said, holding him tightly. "You're finally back."

  Luke's heart had nearly stopped beating when he looked up and saw Liberty coming towards him. She was the last person
in the world he'd expected to see up at Gate's Mountain Inn. He'd thought he would never see her again. And he certainly hadn't expected ever to hold her in his arms again. She felt so soft against him. Her hair brushed his nose and he fought the temptation to bury his face in it. When she lifted her lips to his for a kiss, he was nearly done in.

  Somehow he managed to step back, pushing her away, holding her at arm's length by her elbows.

  What was she doing here?

  The answer came to him almost immediately. No doubt there had been some kind of delay in the money from the sale of the house. She was probably waiting for funds to clear, and then she'd be off, free as a bird, elusive as the wind.

  Anger gripped him. But it wasn't the flash of hot temper that he was used to. This was cold — brittle, mind-numbing cold.

  "When did you get back?" she asked, smiling up at him. "Yesterday," he said, his voice sounding harsh to his own ears.

  Lib's smile faded. Yesterday? Luke was holding her so tightly, his fingers were starting to bruise her arms. And the way he was looking at her... His eyes were so different, so... cold. It was like looking into avoid. There was nothing there, nothing at all.

  She shivered. "Why didn't you call me?" she said quietly. "I was starting to worry about you—"

  Luke laughed humorlessly. "I'll bet," he said. He released her arms so abruptly, Lib nearly fell over.

  "Luke, what's going on?" Lib asked, her voice low but intense.

  "Gee, I could ask Luke the same question."

  Lib turned and looked down into the cool blue eyes of a woman nearly a foot shorter than she was. Short blonde hair framed a perfectly made-up face and a white halter dress hugged the woman's well-endowed body.

  Lib had seen this woman somewhere before, but it took several long seconds to register just where it had been.