by Donna Alward
She thought about his father, and if he was still hanging on or if the family was grieving.
She had thought it would take time to forget about him, but forgetting had proved an impossible endeavor.
“Mom?” Sam’s voice interrupted her thoughts and she forced a smile. “What, pumpkin?”
He scowled. “You aren’t supposed to call me pumpkin anymore.”
“What should I call you?” She smiled. Sam was her one bright spot. She’d begun working part-time for a local agency and he met her at the door every single time she came home. He brought her books every night, first learning to read his own and then settling in for a bedtime story. He would start school soon and she was determined to sign up for her courses and find them their own place. But there were some days, like today, when she missed when he’d been a toddler, and names like pumpkin had been okay. What would she do when he was older and didn’t need her anymore?
“I don’t know. No baby names.”
“I’ll try. No promises.” She grinned and ruffled his hair.
“I miss Luke. And Homer. And the horses. And the kids.”
Oh, honey. She missed all those things, too, and more. Mostly Luke. She wanted to promise Sam everything would be better soon, but it seemed unfair. He was entitled to his feelings. He shouldn’t be made to feel as if they were insignificant.
“Me, too, sweet…Sam,” she amended, gratified when he smiled. “But we knew all along that it was temporary, remember?”
“I thought…maybe…”
“Maybe what?”
“That Luke was going to be my new dad. When he kissed you and stuff.”
She felt her cheeks color. “How do you know about that?”
He shrugged again—a new favorite five-year-old gesture since his birthday. “I saw you. At the fireworks. Everyone did.”
Emily stood up and took his hand, starting towards the house. “Luke and I liked each other for a while,” she said, not sure what to tell him that would explain things without getting complicated. “But it wasn’t like that,” she finished awkwardly.
“I wish it was. I liked it there. Even better than Calgary.”
They’d reached the back steps when her cell phone vibrated in her pocket. “Go inside and give these to Grandma. Bet she’ll give you an extra cookie.” Emily took the phone out of her pocket and her heart took a leap as she saw Luke’s name on the call display.
It vibrated in her palm, and before she could reconsider she flipped it open and answered it.
“Hello?”
“Emily?”
Oh, his voice sounded just as rough and sexy over the phone. Her spine straightened and her fingers toyed with the hem of her top. He could still cause that nest of nerves simply from saying her name.
“Luke. Is everything okay?” She knew he’d never call unless something was wrong. He’d said all that he’d needed to say.
“Dad’s gone, Emily.”
His voice cracked at the end. There was a long pause while Emily wondered if he was going to continue. Her throat tightened painfully. “Are you okay, Luke?”
He cleared his throat. “I think so. I need to ask you a favor.”
Anything. She almost said it, hating herself for being so easy even if it was only on the inside. Her fingers gripped the phone so tightly her knuckles cramped. “What is it?”
“Can you come?”
Her knees wobbled and she sat down on the back steps, the cool cement pricking into her bare legs. “You want me to come for the funeral?”
“Yes. And to talk.”
Her breath caught in her chest. She hadn’t thought she’d ever hear his voice again, let alone see him. But she couldn’t get her hopes up. “Talk about what?”
“There were things I should have said but didn’t.”
“You seemed to say enough.” He had been the one to turn her away, and now he expected her to come when he crooked his finger? She knew it was a difficult time for him and she wanted to help, but she refused to put herself in the position of being hurt again.
“I know, and I need to explain.”
“I don’t know…” She wanted to be there for him, but the wounds were still too fresh. She was still too close to be objective.
“The service is the day after tomorrow. If you can’t get away, I’ll come to you afterwards. Give me your address.”
Come here? Impossible. As kind as her parents had been, Emily had glossed over her pain at leaving Alberta. She’d let them believe she was so down because of her divorce—they had no idea she’d been foolish enough to have her heart broken all over again. Luke showing up here would create all sorts of problems. Especially considering what Sam had just said.
“No, I’ll come,” she decided. If it was that crucial, she’d take a day and go.
“Thank you, Emily. It means a lot.”
What was she doing? Setting herself up for another round of hurt? Getting over him was taking too long. Maybe they would be better this way. Despite what had happened, it felt as if they’d left loose ends. Maybe they needed to tie those off. Cauterize the wound so she could finally heal.
“I’m sorry about your dad,” she said quietly, pressing the phone to her ear, not wanting the conversation to end so soon. Lord, she had missed him. The line went quiet again and she thought she heard him take a shaking breath. Her heart quaked. She had so many things she wanted to say, and her one regret over all these weeks was that she’d never told him exactly how she felt. Would it have made a difference if he’d known she was in love with him?
“We’ll talk about it when you get here,” he replied.
After the phone went dead, Emily sat on the steps a long time. She was going back. The memory of his face swam through her mind, scowling, smiling, and that intense, heart-stopping gaze he gave her just before he kissed her. She would see him the day after tomorrow.
If nothing else, she would tell him how she felt. How his dismissal of her had cut her to the bone. And then she would let him go once and for all.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
EMILY TURNED UP THE drive at half past twelve. The midday sun scorched down and Emily noticed the petunias in the baskets were drooping, in need of a good deadheading and watering. Luke’s truck sat in the drive, and the field equipment was lined up in a mournful row next to the barn. The farm work had ceased for today, a sad and respectful silence for the man who had started it all and passed it on to his son.
His son. Luke stepped through the screen door and on to the porch as she parked. He rested one hand on the railing post while Emily tried to calm both the excitement of seeing him again and the sadness of knowing the reason why he’d traded in his jeans and T-shirts for a suit. Black trousers fitted his long legs and the white shirt emphasized the leanness of his hips and the breadth of his shoulders. The gray tie was off-center and her lips curved up the tiniest bit. Luke was the kind of man who would hate being bundled up in a tie.
She stepped out of the car. Her shoes made little grinding noises on the gravel as she walked to the house. Luke waited as she put her shaking hand on the railing and climbed the steps to the porch.
God, how she’d missed him. She faced him, drinking in every detail of his features. Regular Luke was irresistible. But this dressed-up Luke felt different and exciting. He’d had a haircut recently—a razor-thin white line marked the path of his new hairline. His mouth, the crisply etched lips that remained unsmiling, and his eyes. She stopped at his eyes. She had expected pain and sadness. But what she saw there gave her heart a still-familiar kick. Heat. And desire.
“You look beautiful,” he said quietly. He reached out and took a few strands of her hair in his fingers. “You let your hair grow.”
She reached up and touched the dark strands without thinking. When she realized what she was doing she dropped her hand to her side again. “I felt like a change.” She meant to speak clearly but it came out as a ragged whisper. If she reacted like this now, how would they make it through a w
hole afternoon?
“Emily…”
She waited. As the seconds passed, she wondered how long before they would have to leave for the church. He’d said he wanted to talk to her, but they wouldn’t have much time. Surely he had to be there early. To be with his sisters. To say goodbye. With every second that slid past she felt Luke sliding away as well.
Luke drew in his eyebrows and pushed away from the post. Emily took a step forward and put her hand on his forearm. Her fingers clenched the fine white fabric and she got a little thrill as the muscle hardened beneath her touch.
“Why is it so hard to say what I need to say?” he wondered aloud, putting his hand over hers. “I’ve said it a million times in my head, Em. Over and over again since you left.”
Emily looked up. In her heels she was only a few inches shorter than he was and impulsively she tipped up her face, touching her lips to his. “Then just tell me,” she whispered, meeting his gaze evenly. “I came all this way…”
“Yes, you did.” He smiled a little then. “You were always there when I needed you, Em. Right from the start. Until I sent you away. I kept looking for your car to drive up the lane because somehow you always seemed to know what I needed. But you didn’t come.”
“You made it all too clear in those last hours that I wasn’t needed at all.”
“It’s completely my fault.” He cupped her jaw with a wide hand. “I’m the one who forced you to leave.”
“You didn’t force me anywhere. I left because you made it clear you were not interested in pursuing anything further. And because my own feelings were already involved.”
She could give him that much. She did want to tell him how she felt, but he was the one who had asked her here. He was the one who’d said he had something to tell her. Whatever it was, she wanted him to get it off his chest.
His gaze warmed as he looked down at her. “I know they were,” he said quietly. “It was why I needed to stop what was happening between us before it went too far. I needed to push you away so I didn’t have to face things. I didn’t tell you everything, Em, that night on the hill. I held back the real reason why I promised never to let myself get too close to anyone. And I hurt you because I was too afraid to say it out loud. If I didn’t say it, there was still part of me that could deny it.”
“Then tell me now,” she replied, gripping his hand, drawing it down to her side. “I’m here. I’m listening.”
“It’s more than I deserve.”
“It’s not. You gave me—us—so much while we were here.” Emily took a deep breath, gathering her courage. “I fell in love with you, Luke.”
The blue depths of his eyes got suddenly bright. “Don’t say that, Em…”
“And as often as you looked for me to come back, I waited for the phone to ring. Hoping it would be you. I promised myself if I got another chance, I’d tell you how I felt. Because you need to understand. I vowed I would never love anyone again after what I’d been through. I swore I would never put Sam through anything like that ever again. And I fell for you so hard, so fast, it was terrifying.”
He pulled her close, his hands encircling her back and she closed her eyes. For weeks she’d despaired of ever feeling his arms around her again. Now she hung on as if she would never let go.
All too soon he pushed her away. “I can’t,” he said, running a hand over his closely cropped hair. “I can’t do this. Please Em…let’s sit.”
She sat on the plush cushion of the porch swing, the springs creaking as he sat beside her and put his elbows on his knees. It had taken all she had to say the words and she was glad she had. For a brief, beautiful moment she had thought it was all going to be okay. But he kept pushing her away because of this…something that he still kept hidden inside. “I think you’d better just come out with it,” she suggested. “Whatever it is, I can take it, Luke.”
“Did you know there’s a hereditary component to Dad’s disease?”
Light began to glimmer as she realized what he was saying, and what he wasn’t. Why hadn’t she considered he’d be afraid he’d get it, too? “No. No, I didn’t know that. It must be a worry for you.”
Luke twisted his fingers around and around. “Sometimes early onset is completely random. But sometimes it’s not. My father was fifty-three, Emily. At a time when my friends’ fathers were going to graduations and giving away brides, my dad was forgetting who his children were, getting lost on roads he’d travelled most of his life. He should never have been around machinery or livestock—looking back, it’s amazing something didn’t go drastically wrong sooner. He could have killed us all that night if the smoke detectors hadn’t been working. And I bore the brunt of it, don’t you see? I resented it and felt guilty about it. Now he’s gone, and it’s a relief. Not because I wanted him to die, but because…”
His voice broke. “Because he was already gone and we simply spent the last years hoping for crumbs. That might be me down the road, and I won’t do that to a family. I won’t put them through what I went through. The pain and guilt and awful duty of caring for someone like that.”
“Luke…”
“No, let me finish. I didn’t turn you away because I didn’t care about you. It’s because I care too much to see you destroyed by having to go through what I went through.”
She swallowed against the lump in her throat. He wasn’t saying he didn’t love her. He was putting her first, trying to keep her safe, and it made her want to weep. “Shouldn’t that be my choice, Luke?”
“You don’t know what you’re asking.” His voice was suddenly sharp and his eyes glittered at her. “Emily…” He put his head in his hands for a moment, taking a deep breath, collecting himself.
“How can you say no to something when you aren’t even sure?” She felt him slipping away and fought to keep him there, in the moment with her. “There are no guarantees in this life, Luke. Are you willing to sacrifice your happiness for something that might or might not happen?” She paused. Put her hand on his knee and squeezed. “Are you willing to sacrifice my happiness, and Sam’s? Because we both love you. We love you and we love this farm.”
“Don’t make it any harder than it has to be.”
“Too late.” She surprised herself with the strength of her voice. “It’s already done. Look at me.”
His gaze struck hers and she forged ahead. “You cannot keep me from loving you, Luke. I already do. Turning me away now won’t prevent me from being hurt.”
“I’m doing this for you!” Luke sprang off the seat and went to the verandah railing, gripping it with his fingers. “I’m thirty years old. I might only have a few years left before symptoms…before…”
He turned his head away, unable to voice the possibilities.
He was terrified. Emily understood that now. He’d been through hell and he was making decisions based on that fear. She could understand that so well. Heck, she’d been there just a few months ago. So afraid of being hurt again that she was prepared to spend the rest of her life alone. But Luke had changed that for her. She went to him and touched his arm, pressing her cheek against his shoulder blade.
“You’re afraid. I know you think that by sacrificing yourself you’re keeping others from being hurt. I know what it is to be scared. When I left Calgary, I swore I would never fall in love again. That I would never make myself that vulnerable. The sudden loss of my marriage did a number on me. I blamed myself. I thought I wasn’t good enough. And then I met you. You don’t think I’m still scared?” She gave a little laugh. “You talked to me about dreams, but it isn’t easy to follow dreams, especially when you have a five-year-old boy depending on you to keep his world safe and happy. I felt like every time I hoped for something more I was being self-indulgent. Not putting Sam first.” She turned him around so he was facing her. “I was so scared to love you that I packed up and left. But I’m not leaving now, Luke. I’m sticking around. Nothing changed in my heart when I left except that you were here and I was there. I refuse t
o let you sacrifice your life for me.”
“You don’t know what it means,” he repeated. “Dad was early onset. We were told long ago that there is a fifty-fifty chance that we kids have the genetic mutation.”
Fifty-fifty. For a moment Emily quailed. It was difficult odds.
“And have you been tested?”
He shook his head, staring out over the lawn that was starting to brown in the late summer heat. “The girls did. Their risk is low. They married and had the children…”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “How could I marry, knowing I might pass this on to my own children? To give them a life sentence like that?”
“Then why not be tested?”
He shook his head. “And what? What if I have the gene? I’d spend every day wondering how old I’d be when I started showing symptoms. I’d question every time I forgot the smallest detail, wondering if this was the beginning. I can’t live that way, waiting for the other shoe to drop.”
Tears gathered in Emily’s eyes. Suddenly everything made sense. The absolute precision of the tools in the workshop, each piece hung on exactly the right peg. The list he kept on the fridge with the pay and work schedule. It had seemed obsessively organized at the time, but now she understood. It was his safeguard. An early-warning system, a way to keep him on track just in case.
He said knowing would make him question. But not knowing was doing the exact same thing.
“You already are,” she whispered. “All the things in the house, just so. Numbers and to-do lists and having everything in a specific place…”
“I knew that if something was out of place, and I couldn’t remember putting it there…”
Silence dropped like an anvil.
“You are already living the disease, Luke.” The look of utter shock that blanked his face made her smile. She grabbed his hands and squeezed them. “Don’t you understand? You are so afraid of dying that you stopped living. You’re already second-guessing everything and missing out on what might be the happiest time of your life. Love, Luke. A wife and children. Laughter and happiness. You have given your family all of yourself. What is left for you?”
