Luke's Ride

by Helen DePrima

  Katie might want to stay on running the Queen, and he could take accounting courses at the college while apprenticing in Mike’s office. They could find a little house in town if she liked and be at the ranch every weekend—

  “Luke.” His father’s voice yanked him back to the present. “You plan to spend the night out here?”

  “Just chatting with Dude,” Luke called. “I’ll be right in.” He gave his horse another treat and sent him out to graze with the others. It had been quite a day, climaxing with Katie’s response and his momentous discovery that he could still respond to a woman’s body warm and pliant in his arms.

  * * *

  JO DROVE LUKE into Durango for his Monday PT appointment on her way to the dentist. “Tom told me what happened at the Queen,” she said. “I guess Katie survived her embarrassment.”

  “Better than survived. We had a good talk about it. I’m going to ask Katie to marry me as soon as she’s free from her creep of a husband.”

  Jo reached across to squeeze his hand. “I’m so happy for you. I haven’t gotten a chance to know Katie very well. Bring her around so we can get better acquainted.” She laughed. “Now that she can tell the difference between you and Tom. How about we go to the Queen for lunch after I pick you up?”

  “Maybe not today. She’s got a lot on her mind right now—I don’t want to crowd her. We’ll let it simmer a couple days.”

  “You’re probably right.” She pulled up in front of the hospital. “Call me when you’re done.”

  Doug whistled when he saw the bruises on Luke’s legs. “You gotta stay out of those bar fights.”

  “I tangled with a crazy cow yesterday. She flattened me and my horse making her getaway.”

  “You need to send me a photo of you with your wonder horse for the bulletin board so people can see what’s possible. You too sore to use the braces today?”

  “Not likely—I wouldn’t miss a chance to do my laps. And I’d like an afternoon appointment sometime this week. My lady wants to see how far I’ve come—she gets off work at three.” Pride suffused him with the knowledge he could show Katie off to his friends.

  He did shorten his workout in reluctant deference to his bruises but still hiked a complete circuit of the hospital and parking lot. Returning to the PT area, he lay down on the exercise platform for Doug to remove the braces.

  “Take them off yourself,” Doug said. “You’ll have to do it when you get them home. We’re going to let you solo any day now. I’ve been talking to your doctor in Austin. He figures you’ll be ready soon.”

  “He as much as told me I wouldn’t walk again.”

  “Classic motivation. ‘Don’t tell me I can’t.’ He’s got your number.”

  “I guess you’re right. I’ve never been too good with taking no for an answer.”

  Doug folded his arms and stood back while Luke unstrapped the braces and eased out of the stirrup-like foot pieces. He was sweating again by the time he finished. “Okay? Can I take them home now?”

  “Next session you can put them on yourself. Then we’ll talk about turning you loose with them.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  KATIE FLOATED THROUGH the next day on a cloud as sweet and light as Auntie Rose’s fry bread. Marge arrived around lunchtime, as she had been doing lately. She cornered Katie in the kitchen. “So how was the visit to Cameron’s Pride?”

  “Fine, except a wild cow knocked Luke’s horse down.” The memory of the ensuing kiss flooded her face with color. “Luke and Dude are both all right. And I tasted Auntie Rose’s fry bread—heavenly.”

  “A little more to the day than cows and fry bread,” Marge said, giving her a shrewd look.

  “Lucy said to give you a hug for her.” Katie matched action to words. “And the Camerons got a new mare from the same rescue as Luke’s horse. A palomino, I think. I’m going to ride her when she fattens up a little more.”

  She couldn’t quite bring herself to talk about Luke—not even with Marge—as though voicing her happiness would bring bad luck. “I had a very nice day,” she said.

  “Humph,” Marge said and returned to the dining room to perch on a stool beside the antique brass cash register.

  After work Katie checked her post office box—sure enough, it held a thick envelope from Mr. Foster. She scanned the contents and approached the clerk. “Where can I get my signature notarized?” she asked.

  “Your bank will have a notary,” the plump, grandmotherly woman said. “Or the UPS store.”

  Katie read the documents twice in her car to make sure she understood them, then drove to the First National Bank of Durango. She signed in several places before a notary and hurried to the post office in time to overnight them to Mr. Foster’s office.

  “That was fast,” the clerk said. “Important business, I guess.”

  “Just the rest of my life,” Katie said.

  She shopped for groceries with a clear mind; she’d done all she could for the moment. That night she lay awake thinking of Luke and worrying how Brad might respond to her demand for freedom.

  The next afternoon she called Mr. Foster to make sure the documents had arrived. “Move as fast as you can,” she said. “I need to get out of the marriage as quickly as possible.”

  After a long silence, he said, “I hate to ask, but is this divorce time critical? Do you have some sort of deadline to meet?”

  His question puzzled her for a moment, and then she laughed. “I’m not pregnant, Mr. Foster. I just want the freedom to enjoy my new life here. You can’t imagine the wonderful people I’ve met and the experiences I’ve had. I’m never moving back to Connecticut.”

  “What about your mother’s house? I understand it’s been in the family for several generations.”

  “It’s still going to be. I’m selling it to my cousin who’s living there.”

  “You can’t do that. You’re prohibited from disposing of any inheritance before the divorce is settled.”

  “My mother was smart,” Katie said. “Because of her health, she put both our names on the deed after my father died. I’ve been co-owner for years.”

  They discussed a few more technicalities and then he said, “Someone will serve these papers as soon as possible, probably tomorrow. I’ll let you know his response.”

  She worked the next day with a lighter heart.

  Luke called that evening. “Want to be at the hospital tomorrow afternoon at three thirty? I want to show off for you. Come to the front entrance.”

  * * *

  KATIE PARKED IN the visitors’ lot a little before three thirty and made her way to the information desk.

  “I need to find the physical therapy department,” she said to the pretty Hispanic woman directing visitors and patients.

  “Someone will show you the way,” she said with a smile and pointed over Katie’s shoulder.

  “Need a guide, little lady?” Luke stood behind her.

  She staggered against the desk, faint with shock. She scanned his face—no scar. This was really Luke standing on his own feet. She flung her arms around his neck, oblivious of the gathering crowd in the lobby. One person applauded; others joined in. Someone gave a shrill whistle.

  “Whoa. Don’t knock him over,” said a muscular man in a polo shirt marked Mercy Regional Medical Center. “He still tips pretty easily.”

  Katie stammered half questions, unable to complete a sentence.

  Luke put his arm around her shoulders. “Doug, let’s get her out of the lobby before she passes out.” He led her toward the elevators with Doug on his other side. His gait was stiff, punctuated with mechanical clicks and thumps, but he was walking, actually walking.

  Katie had recovered her wits somewhat by the time they reached the PT department. “All right,” she said. “Now that
you’ve shocked the pants off me, tell me everything.”

  Luke introduced Doug Pruitt and they took turns explaining and demonstrating the braces. “The best part is that more of Luke’s natural function is coming back the more he’s up with the braces. These give him mobility while he’s healing. Could be he’ll be able to walk without them eventually.”

  “Count on it,” Luke said.

  “I knew you were holding out on me.” Katie smacked Luke’s chest; he caught her hand and kissed it.

  “Don’t say this wasn’t a nice surprise.” He snapped his fingers. “I almost forgot to tell you—Saturday is Auntie Rose’s seventy-fifth birthday. Shelby wants to throw a surprise party for her. I doubt Marge is up to catering the whole thing, but we’d appreciate if you guys could provide the sides, like beans and corn bread. I know it’s short notice, but Shelby just found out the date. We can always go to Albertson’s deli—”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Katie said, returning to familiar ground. “How many guests?”

  “At least fifty—the Bucks have lots of relatives.”

  “Desserts?”

  “Shelby’s making red velvet cupcakes instead of a single cake. That’s Auntie Rose’s favorite, and they’ll serve easier. But a few pies would be good if you can manage it.”

  “Don’t worry about a thing. We’ll deliver on our end.”

  Luke hugged her. “I told Shelby we could count on you. How about we come pick everything up Friday right at closing time so we don’t interfere with the Saturday breakfast crowd?”

  * * *

  KATIE PUT IN long hours on the special orders, but with Marge’s help they had everything ready by noon on Friday. Marge had prepared her special cowboy beans at home while Katie baked pies—three peach and three apple—as well as the corn bread in the big commercial oven after closing.

  The hectic activity took Katie’s mind off a call she’d received from Mr. Foster. The divorce papers had been served on Brad, who apparently had received them with surly dismissal, threatening to toss them in the trash.

  “Spouses frequently react that way when reality hits them,” he said, “but they usually come around in time. You’re asking him for nothing, which I still think is foolish. That may make the divorce a bit more palatable. I can point out to his attorney that with your husband’s assets, he’ll be getting away lucky.”

  She hoped he was right.

  The Cameron men arrived half an hour before closing Friday afternoon. Jake and Tom, now without the walker, went to the kitchen and started loading food into coolers for the trip to the ranch. Marge directed their work like a general marshaling her troops while Luke, in his wheelchair, held the door open as the containers were carried out to Tom’s Expedition. Katie sat by the cash register tallying the day’s receipts, and Roger refilled coffee mugs for a few lingering diners.

  The last customers left, and at five minutes before three, the door opened and a man stepped inside.

  “Sorry, we’re closing,” Katie said without looking up.

  “I know. That’s why I waited till now.”

  Katie’s head jerked up. The roll of quarters in her hand hit the floor and split, sending coins rolling in all directions.

  “Brad,” she said in a tiny voice. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’ve come to take you home, Kathryn. You’ve made your point, and I promise I’ll never give you reason to leave again.”

  “How did you find me?” She refused to panic. “Of course, the notary stamp from the bank.”

  He looked around the Queen’s dining room. “You weren’t hard to locate in a town this size. I’m sorry to find you working in a place like this. And living upstairs over a saloon. If you’re that determined to play at running a restaurant, I’ll set you up with a nice café after we get home.”

  He shook his head with a mock look of sadness. “Running off like a spoiled child. I’ve been frantic with worry about your safety—you’re such an innocent.”

  His arrogant self-assurance stiffened her spine. She heard the soft whisper of rubber tires behind her as she slid off the stool to stand with her chin up and shoulders squared.

  “I’m not going back with you—not now, not ever. You killed my trust forever. Now get out. We’re closed.” She felt Luke take her hand.

  Brad laughed, waving a dismissive hand at Luke. “This is what you’re settling for? He’ll give you a fine lifestyle, won’t he?”

  “It doesn’t matter that he’s in a wheelchair. He’s twice the man you’ll ever be,” Katie said, her voice rising. “And my lifestyle here suits me fine. I’ve got a job, a place to live... I’ve got friends here.”

  “You have friends in Connecticut.”

  “Your friends, not mine. My friends weren’t fancy enough for the country club—they couldn’t help you land big contracts. They’re just good people I like and who like me. But you made them feel unwelcome, so they stopped calling. I’m done with you, you...” Words failed her for a moment. “You pathetic child.”

  She felt a hand on her shoulder and the solid wall of Luke’s chest behind her. He teetered, but he was standing.

  “Keep talking, darlin’,” he said in her ear. “You’re doing fine.”

  Shock and wonder struck her speechless, but she didn’t dare turn her back on Brad.

  Marge leaned through the pass-through with her nickel-plated revolver in her hand. “What’s all this noise? Who the hell is this?”

  “Meet Brad...what’s his name, Katie?” Luke asked. “Carrion?”

  Katie fought down hysterical laughter. “Garrison.”

  “Brad Garrison,” Luke said. “Katie’s almost ex-husband.”

  “I don’t care if he’s Brad Pitt. It’s after three o’clock and we’re closed. I haven’t shot an intruder in a while, but I haven’t forgotten how.” Marge aimed the gun and cocked it. “Now git and git fast, while you still can. Katie’s not going anywhere with you.”

  The kitchen door opened, and Tom came out to stand beside Luke. “You need help finding your way out, mister?”

  Jake stepped up next to Tom. “I reckon the three of us can help you to the curb.”

  Bradley Garrison looked from one to another, hatred seething on his face, and backed out the door, slamming it hard enough to shiver the etched glass in its frame. Moments later tires screeched on the pavement.

  “That went all Western in a hurry, didn’t it?” Luke said and collapsed into the wheelchair. “Dang, I didn’t know I could do that.”

  Katie wrapped her arms around him. “You stood! On your own! Can you do it again?”

  Luke laughed. “I’m not even going to try. Don’t wear it out, sweetheart.”

  Katie sagged against the bar. “I should have thought about the bank’s notary seal. It never occurred to me he’d come here assuming I’d go back with him.”

  “It did to me,” Luke said. “I’m just surprised it took him this long. I know I’d move heaven and earth to get you back.”

  “You might want to give the sheriff a heads-up,” Tom said. “He came on like a real crazy.”

  Marge joined them with her finger now off the trigger. “I suspect you’ll get your divorce pretty quick.” She blew imaginary smoke from the barrel of her revolver. “He won’t want to go up against the Cameron gang again.”

  Jake threw back his head and howled with laughter. “Marge, you’re a pistol.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  “IF I WAS a drinking man,” Jake said, “which I’m not, I’d say we should all raise a glass to the lately departed Mr.—” He turned to Luke. “What did you call him?”

  Luke ducked his head in pretended shame. “Sometimes my mouth runs away on me. It burns me up he thinks he can throw away a good woman, then pick her up again whenever he takes the notion
.”

  “Men!” Marge said. “Always want the one thing they can’t have. Tell you what—I’m putting a sign on the door that we’re closed tomorrow. I guess we’re invited to the party, Jake. Right?”

  “Marge, it wouldn’t be a party without you there. You want someone to drive in and fetch you tomorrow? Because I think Katie should come home with us. No telling if that so-and-so might decide to make another visit once we leave.”

  “I guess that’s a good idea,” Katie said. “He apparently knows I’m living upstairs above the Queen.”

  “I’ve been driving for a while now,” Marge said. “And I’m glad Katie’s coming with you. She could stay at my house, but she’ll be safer at the ranch.”

  Luke turned to Jake. “You guys had best get that food home so it doesn’t spoil. I’ll wait while Katie grabs what she needs and ride with her. I doubt we’ll have any trouble this soon.”

  “You’re right,” Jake said. “Marge, please don’t come armed tomorrow. We can take care of any trouble that might show up. But you were real persuasive.”

  He stopped to give Katie a hug. “You handled yourself like a real Cameron.” He and Tom left.

  “No higher praise than that from Dad,” Luke said. “Run up and get your gear. I’d wait at the bottom of your steps, but your...” It galled him to call Brad Garrison Katie’s husband. “That guy knows me now. Roger, you mind waiting outside for Katie?”

  “My pleasure,” Roger said and took off his apron. “Come on, cookie. I’ll guard the gate, then the boss and I can lock up.”

  Luke slumped in his chair after Katie left. To tell the truth, he was feeling a little shaky after the volcanic surge of energy that had brought him to his feet. He felt his chair rolled to a table where Marge had set coffee and two apple fritters.

  Marge lowered herself into a seat. “You look a little done up,” she said. “Me, too. I figured we could both use some sugar.”