Luke (7 Brides for 7 Brothers Book 1)

by Barbara Freethy

  "Whatever. You have to say that, because you own the place."

  "I'm saying it because it's true." He paused. "Look, I'm sorry about your parents. I knew them a long time ago. I liked them a lot."

  "Why did you know them?" she asked suspiciously.

  "Because I used to date your aunt."

  "No way," she said, surprise flashing through her eyes. "You dated Aunt Liz? When?"

  "When we were in college."

  "I never heard that."

  "I actually met you back then. You were an adorable three-year-old."

  "I don't remember. Why did you break up?"

  "We were young. We had some living to do."

  "Are you going to get back together now?"

  He didn't know why he hesitated. Of course they weren't getting back together. "No, I just came up to see the resort because my father died, and he left it to me."

  "How did he die?"

  "He got sick."

  "So you got to say good-bye."

  "Actually, I didn't." He picked up a pebble from the ground and spun it into the river. "I didn't get to say good-bye to either one of my parents."

  "Your mom died, too?" she asked.

  "When I was seven. She was also in a car crash. The kid who hit her had just gotten his license. It was a freak accident. She was in the hospital for a few days, but she never woke up, so we never said good-bye."

  Kaitlyn's eyes widened. She looked like she wanted to say something, but she was forcing herself not to.

  "Liz told me your parents died in a crash."

  She jumped off the log, her feet landing in a few inches of water, but she didn't care; she was too intent on getting away from him.

  "I'm sorry," he said quickly. "I shouldn't have said anything."

  "It doesn't matter. They're dead. Talking about it isn't going to change that," she said with a defiant glint in her eyes.

  "I know that's true. But…" He hesitated, not sure why he was going down this path with a girl he didn't even know. But there was something about her, something vulnerable, that bothered him. He didn't know how much trouble she would have gotten into with the boys and the alcohol if he hadn't come along, but he knew she was way too young for either one, and not just young but also fragile.

  "But what?" she asked, giving him an angry glare that told him if he had something to say, he better say it fast.

  "My dad would never talk about my mom after she died, and it made me feel like I couldn't talk about her. Sometimes I wanted to."

  "Well, I don't want to. I've told everyone that. I just want to forget everyone and everything, because it's all gone." With that proclamation, she tossed her head and ran down the path toward the lodge.

  He followed more slowly, wondering whether he should tell Liz what Kaitlyn had been up to. For her own safety, he knew he should, but he also knew that conversation would only drag him deeper into Liz's personal life.

  Oh, hell, what did he have to lose? He'd already loved and lost her. He wasn't going back for round two, so he might as well try to help her deal with Kaitlyn.

  The campfire was in full swing when he arrived. Kaitlyn squeezed in between two older women on the other side of the circle from Lizzie. She gave him a daring look, which made him smile. In some ways, she reminded him a little of his younger self. He was in no hurry to get her in trouble. In fact, he thought he'd let her sweat it out a bit.

  His gaze moved to Lizzie. She was sitting next to a very pregnant woman. She gave him a wave and he walked over to join her. He was a little surprised at the welcome in her eyes, but he couldn't forget that he held her future in his hands, so it would be stupid to take any warm smile at face value.

  "I'm glad you came," she said as he joined them. "This is Shari Jordan, our amazing chef—Luke Brannigan."

  "Nice to meet you," he said, shaking Shari's hand. "And I definitely agree that your food is amazing. I had a great lunch earlier today."

  "Thank you," Shari replied. "I wish my husband were here. He's a big fan of your films, but he had to run into town for something. Hopefully, you two will have a chance to meet up tomorrow."

  "That would be great."

  Shari got to her feet. "Why don't you take my place, Luke? I'm going to lie down. I don't think I need to hear Tom's story about Last Chance Rock again," she added with a laugh.

  "Good-night," Lizzie said, then patted the empty bench next to her. "Have a seat, Luke. Tom is about to tell his favorite story."

  "All right." His stomach was rumbling, but he decided he'd wait until the campfire dispersed before looking for food.

  "I didn't think you were going to make it," Lizzie said.

  "I fell asleep. The jet lag finally caught up to me."

  "I'm surprised you even get jet lag as often as you travel."

  "I am good at adjusting to new time zones, but the last few days were rougher than most."

  "I'm sure."

  "Who's Kaitlyn sitting with?" he asked.

  "Nancy is the gray-haired woman. She's head of housekeeping. Karina is the blonde on the other side. She runs the arts and crafts program. They've both been here for over a decade. Your father kept on a lot of the staff when he bought the place."

  "So that can happen," Luke remarked. "And it can turn out well."

  Lizzie did not miss his point. "Sometimes it works out well. You never know what a new owner will want to do." She paused. "I think Tom is about to start."

  He directed his gaze across the campfire.

  "Once upon a time," Tom began, "it was rumored that there was gold at the top of the mountain behind us. It could be found only at the highest peak, nuggets as big as a man's fist. But it was impossible to get to. Many men tried. Many men died," Tom said in his deep, booming voice. "One day the son of a man who had perished in his attempt to get the gold decided he would climb to the top of the nearest peak and bring back the gold his father had spoken of. His mother said no, but in the early morning light this fourteen-year-old boy snuck out of his tent and went up the mountain."

  Tom paused, and the crowd leaned forward in anticipation. "The young man climbed for hours. He was exhausted, his legs shaking, his will weakening, but he didn't want to let his father down. He wanted to bring the gold back to the family, to his mother and three younger sisters. He had just passed Wolmer Falls when the ground started to shake. He didn’t know what was happening. The earth was moving. Rocks were falling. An enormous boulder, bigger than a one-story building, came flying down the mountain straight toward him. He jumped out of the way as the boulder crushed against the rocks, blocking the upper trail."

  Tom took another breath, and Luke had to admit his own heart was pumping a little faster as he waited for the end of the story.

  "The boy thought all was lost, but then he saw the sliver of light, the small opening where a person might squeeze past the boulder to get to the other side—to the mountain—to the gold. He stared at the boulder for a long minute. Was it a sign that his way was blocked? Should he turn back? But he knew there wouldn't be another time to try. They were leaving in the morning. Winter was coming. He had one last chance before the spring…"

  Tom gave another dramatic pause, then continued. "The boy squeezed past the rock and climbed to the top of the mountain. The earth shook again as he reached the summit. And then he saw the most miraculous thing—gold. It was as bright and shiny as his father had described, even bigger than his fist. As he tried to pull it out of the dirt and the rocks that surrounded it, the earth began to shake again. The skies opened up and rain began to fall."

  Tom lowered his voice another notch. "It was almost as if the mountain was weeping, as if the earth was begging the boy to leave the gold where it belonged. He looked into the sky and thought he saw the spirit of his father. He had done this for him—for the family, but his dad was waving at him to go back, to be safe, to live a long life and to leave the gold."

  Tom looked around the campfire group. "The boy thought about what to do for a lo
ng minute and then he finally let go of the gold and got to his feet. Water came out of the sky, flying down the mountain, creating a massive waterfall where none had existed, and the gold he'd found was now behind a wall of water. The boy ran down the mountain as fast as he could, terrified the rushing water would catch up to him. He squeezed past the rock and made his way back here, the site of the camp. His mother was waiting and she hugged him as tight as she could, telling him she didn't want the gold; she wanted him to be safe. They left the next morning."

  "To this day no one has ever found the gold behind the upper Wolmer Falls," Tom added. "Several men have made it all the way to the top, a few have died or been severely injured while trying, but no one has found the gold that the mountains refused to give up."

  As Tom finished his story, a bunch of kids broke in with questions that Tom answered patiently.

  "Was that supposed to be a cautionary tale?" Luke asked Lizzie.

  She smiled. "I'm not sure. He tells a bunch of stories, and that's his favorite, but sometimes I worry he's only inspiring people to go after the gold." She tilted her head, giving him a speculative look. "I have a feeling you'd see only the challenge, not the caution."

  "I have a feeling you'd be right. But I'm not motivated by gold."

  "Just by the experience?"

  "Exactly." His stomach rumbled. "You know, I missed dinner, and I have nothing in my cabin. Any chance you'd let me raid the kitchen?"

  "Of course. We do have a snack kitchen for guests, but since you're the owner, I'll let you in the main kitchen. Shari made a vegetarian lasagna for dinner that's to die for."

  "Lead the way," he said, getting to his feet.

  "Sure. Let me just tell Kaitlyn where I'm going."

  Liz had barely stood up when Kaitlyn came over and said she was going to bed.

  "Do you want to get some food with us?" Liz asked. "We're going to the kitchen."

  "Nope." Kaitlyn shot Luke a dark look, and then walked quickly toward the lodge.

  "I guess she's not hungry," Liz said as they followed in Kaitlyn's steps. "I should probably just be happy that she even came to the campfire. I thought she might hang out with some of the kids who are here this week, but I didn't see them around."

  As they entered the kitchen, he said, "Liz, I have to tell you something. I don't want to, but I think I should."

  "What? You haven't already decided to sell the resort, have you? There's still so much to talk about."

  He saw the panic in her eyes. "No, that's not what I want to talk to you about."

  Relief ran through her eyes. "Oh, okay. What is it?"

  "It's about Kaitlyn. When I left my cabin, I saw her at the river with two boys about her age. They were drinking something—vodka, I think. When I came along, they tossed the bottle into the woods and ran up the hill on the other side of the river."

  Anger ran through her eyes. "Dammit. Those must have been the Harrison boys. She lied to me. She said she was hanging out with their sister, Julie, before the campfire."

  "I didn't see another girl."

  "So she went to the river with boys and booze? Were they just drinking, or…"

  "Everyone was fully clothed, but it didn't look like the best situation. If it's any consolation, Kaitlyn said she hadn't been drinking, and it looked to me like she was saying no to taking the bottle when I got there."

  "I guess I should be happy about that," she said, clearly discouraged. She leaned against the counter. "I don't know what I'm doing, Luke. I don't know how to be a mother, especially not to an angry, sad, thirteen-year-old, who is determined to ruin her life as fast as she can. Maybe I should have stayed in LA, or at least closer to therapy, but she hated going there, and even the doctor said they weren't getting very far, that Kaitlyn was stubbornly determined to keep her thoughts private. I thought she might open up to me if I could get her alone, away from all the memories, but that hasn't happened. I seem to be the last person she wants to talk to. She used to like me. Now she hates me. I don't know what happened."

  "Her parents died; that's what happened."

  "I want to help her through her grief, but I don't know how."

  "Maybe she just needs to get through it herself."

  "I tell myself that, but then I wonder as time passes, is she getting more screwed up?"

  He gave her a sympathetic smile. "I'm sure you're doing your best."

  "Which might not be good enough." She pushed away from the counter. "I should get you that lasagna."

  She opened the refrigerator door and started pulling out plastic containers. "We also have salad and fruit to go with it."

  "I'll take it all."

  She smiled. "You always had a big appetite."

  "I did," he admitted, thinking that she'd been his biggest hunger.

  She must have seen something in his eyes, because she immediately shook her head and gave him a warning look. "None of that, Luke."

  "None of what?"

  "You know. We need to keep things professional from here on out."

  "If I was keeping everything strictly professional, I'd already be on the phone to my brother Gabe asking him to list the property for sale."

  "Really? I'm the only reason you're not doing that?" she asked, setting the food containers on the island.

  "I do have a heart. I know things are rough for you and Kaitlyn. That gives me something to think about, so let's not lie to each other and say this is just business."

  "Okay. I appreciate you taking us into consideration. I do think I can prove to you that the resort is a good investment, too."

  "Because I'm so interested in investment," he said dryly.

  "It's an interesting way to make money, and you always liked interesting," she reminded him.

  He smiled. "You know me too well."

  "I used to."

  "I haven't changed that much, and you can work on me tomorrow," he said, scooping some lasagna onto a plate, then putting it in the microwave. "Right now I'm more interested in food."

  "I can live with that."

  Fifteen minutes later, he sat on a stool at the kitchen island, finishing off a big plate of pasta while Liz sat across from him, sipping coffee and stabbing at random blueberries in the bowl of fruit between them.

  "You could get yourself a plate," he said, reminded of all the times Liz had told him she wasn't hungry, then proceeded to eat half of his food.

  She gave him a guilty smile. "Sorry. I like blueberries."

  "So do I," he said pointedly.

  She set down her fork. "I'm done; it's all yours."

  "I was kidding. We can share."

  "It's fine."

  As she sipped her coffee, he said, "Tell me about your life before your sister died. What were you doing? Where were you living?"

  "I was in New York, sharing a teeny, tiny apartment with a violinist named Gretchen Goldsmith. We both played for the New York Philharmonic."

  "That sounds impressive."

  "It was just one of several dreams that came true. I played at Carnegie Hall, Luke. I was so nervous, I was shaking; I wasn't sure I could play, but somehow I did."

  He smiled at the look of triumph and pride in her eyes. "I wish I could have seen that." As he said the words, he realized he meant them. He'd been so angry with her for so many years that he hadn't allowed himself to even think about what she was doing. But he'd been there when she was a struggling student with a big dream. Now he regretted that he hadn't seen her reach that dream.

  "It was amazing," she said. "But it wasn't just the big events that were exciting. I played for the Royal Ballet at one performance. I even played for a rock musician at a recording session. He wanted a classical background piano."

  "Who was that?"

  "Beck Robbins."

  "He's huge."

  She shrugged. "His ego is huge, too. It was fun, but he wasn't the nicest guy to work for."

  "It sounds like you've done well, Lizzie."

  "I have. New York was exciting
, energetic, and super-fast—maybe a little too fast at times. It took me awhile to find my feet, hail cabs with the determination of a native New Yorker, push my way to the front of the hot dog line, fight for a seat on the subway. But eventually I adapted. I wasn't making a fortune, but I was doing what I loved."

  "That's what it's all about. I'm happy for you. I mean that."

  "Thanks," she said, her gaze connecting with his. "I'm happy that you've lived the life you dreamed about, too. You've probably been around the world twice."

  "There are still places I haven't been yet. I like to get away from the big cities, see where the locals really live."

  "And where you can see the stars," she said as they exchanged another remembered smile.

  "I do like the stars," he admitted.

  "I used to think that if you didn't do what you've been doing, that you would have been a good astronomer."

  "Too much school for me."

  "But you already know the names of all the stars."

  "Not all of them," he said with a laugh. "But I have to say that I've seen amazing light shows from some of the highest mountain peaks in the world."

  "And here I was just about to tell you that there's a rooftop patio perfect for stargazing."

  "Good to know."

  She licked her lips, and her eyes darkened, and he wanted nothing more than to lean across the island and kiss her again.

  She must have read his mind, because she was suddenly on her feet. "I should talk to Kaitlyn," she said.

  He was disappointed, but maybe it was for the best. He rose. "I'll clean up."

  "No, I'll come back and do that later."

  "I don't think cleaning up after me is in your job description."

  "It's a few plates, and I know where everything goes. Really, it's fine. I'll walk you out so I can lock up."

  She moved to the door, waiting for him to follow.

  "Thanks for the meal," he said, as they left the kitchen.

  "Of course."

  As they walked through the dining room into the living room, he paused at the sight of the piano in the corner. "I remember that piano—or at least one that looked like that one. My mom used to sing at night with some of the other guests." He shook his head. "So strange, the memories that come back to me of her."