"Go 'way," she said indistinctly, "ate too much. Having bad dreams."
"Thanks a lot," Luke's laugh vibrated through her. "I've been called a lot of things but never a bad dream."
Watching her sleep he remembered her first night on the Diamond Bar. She had burrowed into his arms seeking warmth then. The need to hold her again spiraled into an ache within Luke.
Rachel's hands reached up and rubbed her eyes. She opened them and said, "This isn't a dream?"
"No." Just to prove it he leaned over her, intending merely to brush his lips against hers. She held him with her quick response. Her lips parted eagerly. A moment later his chest rested against the softness of her breasts and he was trailing kisses down the side of her face returning again and again to drink of the sweetness of her mouth. She whimpered whenever he pulled away from her lips, the little mews igniting a fierce hunger in Luke. When they broke for air he rolled onto his side, keeping her within the circle of his arms. He had to maintain control. If he took her now, he would lose her completely.
Her eyes were still closed so he couldn't tell what she was thinking. Her flushed face and the trembling softness of her lips held the stamp of passion and Luke stroked her head, marveling at the silky softness of her hair. Her scent infiltrated his nostrils reminding him of scented, summer roses.
"Rae....," he said at last his voice slightly husky with emotion. "I don't want you to leave yet."
Her immediate stillness warned of his mistake. Easing herself out of his arms she sat up and put her arms around herself, keeping her back to him.
"Rachel?" Idiot. He’d scared her.
"Shouldn't we get our tree? It's going to be dark pretty soon." She stood up and dusted her jeans, the hoarseness in her voice the only sign of her tension.
That was it? He had as good as told her he loved her and all she could think of was getting back? He wasn't about to let her ignore real honest emotion.
He got to his feet in a lithe movement and stood facing her.
Rachel's heart sank. He wasn't going to let it go. When had she fallen in love with Luke? That first day in the courtroom? When he had carried her to the bathroom? When she had seen the way he was with Gordie? She couldn't separate knowing him from loving him.
“I want you to think of the Diamond Bar as your home, Rae.”
"I...I don't know what to say."
"Try...I want to stay, Luke," he suggested.
Rachel cleared her throat painfully, "It wouldn't be any use. I've never been any good at personal relations. I don't want to hurt either you or Gordie."
"How could you do that?" Luke asked reasonably.
"I don't know,” Rae shook her head feeling helpless. Feeling trapped. How did one translate into words the fear that no one who had known her had ever loved her? The fear that if she let it, it would happen again.
Her parents were proof of that. Her mother had left one day while Rachel was at school. And only that morning she had made her pancakes for breakfast and talked about a visit to the zoo. She hadn't even left a note. All her father had told her was that her mother wasn't coming back, ever. Life had never been the same again. Day, after empty day, her father's changed attitude towards her had cemented the belief that it was all her fault. It had taken Dr. Atwell’s special brand of counseling to dispel that idea but nothing had altered the well of insecurity deep inside.
Rachel's hands clenched around tufts of grass on either side of her.
"Rae." Flinching from the hand Luke put on her shoulder she didn't see the pain in his eyes darken them to the color of sapphires. "I won't rush you. Let's get used to the idea of being friends first before we explore our feelings for each other."
"My feelings aren't involved," her lips seemed to have swollen to twice their size, making the lie all the more difficult to utter. "I'm sorry Luke."
That was it? She had decided it wouldn't work and nothing else mattered? Anger blazed a trail through Luke and he acted on impulse.
"What's this then?" He placed his hands on her shoulders intending to shake the truth out of her. Or to kiss her till she admitted it.
The flash flood of apprehension in her eyes changed his course. Hauling her to his chest he rocked her slightly, saying nothing. The spark of anger that had almost fanned itself into something ugly wasn't like him. Neither was losing control. Luke called himself every name he could think of. And then he repeated them all.
He didn't want to force anything out of her. Not even the truth about her feelings. When she cared enough, admitting it would come naturally. A gift, even the gift of love, didn't mean a thing unless it was given freely.
The pounding of her heart reminded him of waves crashing on a rocky shore. He held her for his sake more than her own, till they were both calmer.
Rachel's eyes flooded. She would never be able to fool Luke. Her kisses had been a dead giveaway. They hadn't changed a thing though. The gap between her feelings and her thoughts still yawned like a chasm. One without a bridge.
She stirred in his arms and he released her immediately.
The sight of her face made Luke feel like kicking himself. Her shuttered expression reminded him of the first time he had seen her. He watched her gnaw her lower lip for a few seconds but she didn't say anything.
Raising one hand he brushed the wisp of hair off her forehead and then traced his knuckles down the side of her face and watched the color return.
"Things will work out. Don't worry," he said gruffly.
Why was he talking to her as if the rest of their lives was a foregone conclusion? Rachel knew one thing for certain. She had to be strong. Neither he nor Gordie needed someone in their lives who had always earned a failing grade in relations of the human kind.
She looked into Luke's eyes and was lost. She hated being cause for the concern in his eyes, the muscle throbbing in his jaw.
Luke hesitated a minute longer, then held a hand out to her. "Right now, we have a tree to get, remember?" he said cheerfully. "We have to hurry unless you want to walk back in the dark."
Bewildered Rachel put her hand in his. How could he switch back so quickly into the role of undemanding friend? Why wasn't he angry with her? Men she'd barely known had sulked for days when she'd refused to meet them after work.
Following him through the rows of orderly evergreens, Rachel stopped when he did.
"This one?"
Luke pointed to one barely three feet high. It looked too small to Rachel. Somehow she had imagined a larger tree, one that would do justice to the cathedral ceiling in the living room. Her gaze veered to the right to one that stood eight feet tall.
"That one?" Luke walked over to it, examined the branches and lifted the axe.
"Wait," Rachel called out, "I'm not sure. I don't know a thing about trees. Let's take this one." She put a hand out to the one that Luke had picked first.
"Sweetheart," he leaned on his axe, "I want to get this one now."
His glance mocked her. See? it said, it isn't as hard as you think. All it takes is compromise. Give and take. As she looked at him, Luke's eyes darkened in the way that warned he meant to kiss her. He took a step forward. Rachel panicked. One more kiss like the last and she wouldn't even be able to spell her own name, leave alone make plans to return to Bangladesh. Stepping back she stopped when a branch brushed her spine. "I'll pack the picnic basket while you cut down the tree. That way we'll save time," she said and fled.
Luke hefted the base of the tree to rest against one broad shoulder, letting the rest of the tree drag behind him. In his other hand he held the axe. Rachel carried the empty picnic basket and the blanket simply because she had got there first and refused to give it up.
They walked home in silence for the most part, each busy with their own thoughts.
They were on the home hill when Luke said casually, "You know Rae, one of these days, you're going to have to stop running and face those fears we talked about. All I'm asking is that when the time comes you give yourself a fai
r deal."
CHAPTER 8
Marie had just taken over with Gordie and Rachel was free for the rest of the morning. It was always hard to leave Gordie, but usurping all the other women’s time with the baby wouldn't be fair either. This way, the degree to which Gordie would miss her, would be cushioned at least.
Coming out of the sun room she paused a minute to admire the decorated tree in the corner of the living room. Its fresh scent permeated the whole house. Gordie had everyone in splits of laughter by mimicking her deep breaths and following it up with an Aah of appreciation whenever he looked at the tree. Luke had placed a three foot high makeshift fence around the tree so that Gordie could enjoy the tree without pulling at the ornaments or being in any danger of taking the whole tree down.
Angela and her younger brother David had decorated the tree after school yesterday, consulting frequently with Rae. The white doves and the silver tinsel enhanced the majesty of the fir with their pristine simplicity. Already Christmas presents had mysteriously appeared under the tree, adding to the magic of the season.
"Do you know where Luke is?' she asked Theresa casually.
He hadn't appeared at breakfast and she had simply assumed he was working in his study. It was unusual for him not to come out for his usual cups of tea, though.
"I haven't seen him since he put Gordie in his crib this morning," Theresa said quietly.
For the first time that day Rachel became aware of how strained the older woman looked.
"Do you think he might be at the farm?'
Theresa thought for a minute. "No. I don't think so. There are too many people there. Rob would have gone there if he was upset. He always needed sheer physical labor if something was bothering him, but Luke is different. He searches for the quiet places."
"Is something wrong?'
Theresa looked out of the kitchen window. "Today would have been Robbie's thirty fourth birthday."
"Where can I find Luke?' Rachel couldn't keep the breathless urgency out of her voice. Theresa would work out her grief scouring the kitchen and going down to the mission in Santa Barbara to recite a rosary but the fact that Luke had disappeared like a wounded animal worried Rachel tremendously. To run and hide, his pain had to be soul deep. She had to go to him.
Theresa thought for a minute and then said, "Do you remember the spot where he took you for the Christmas tree? Past the area there is a trail that goes right to the top of Jasper's mountain." Her lips trembled before she tightened them and went on, "It's where the family graves are. I think he might be there."
It seemed a long way when one went up the path alone. In spite of a jacket and her sweater, Rachel shivered. The wind had lowered the temperature considerably and the overcast sky seemed to fit the solemnity of the day. Past the evergreens where they had picnicked the path grew steeper. Doubts set in as she huffed and puffed her way to the top.
Was she doing the right thing seeking Luke out like this? Instinct urged this course of action and she had obeyed blindly.
Rachel paused on the edge of the clearing in surprise. Walled in by a six foot evergreen hedge on three sides, the clearing was huge. December roses were in full bloom everywhere, the riot of color suggesting life everlasting instead of an ending. If it weren't for the gravestones, she would have taken the spot for some sort of enchanted garden. Rachel's gaze wandered from the oldest to the newest and the largest in white marble. A single grave. It seemed right that Chris and Rob hadn't been parted even in the choice of their final resting place. The fresh flowers covering the grave told her others had paid their respects here today.
Luke sat with his back against a tree, looking away from the graves, out into the distance. One long leg was bent at the knee, the other stretched fully out. One hand aimlessly picked up tiny stones and threw them at some distant object in the horizon while his eyes stared unseeingly ahead. Emotion so thick she could cut it with a knife surrounded him.
Rachel came up quietly behind him. There was no need to say anything. Luke hadn't turned his head but Rachel knew he sensed her presence. She looked out at the horizon. This had to be the highest point in the Diamond Bar. From here, one could get an eagle's eye view of almost all the land, and way out in the distance a clear view of the ocean.
Instinct told her Jasper Summers had stood on this spot and been captured by the wild beauty of the land. Here he must have realized that he had found his gold vein after all, and asked that his body be laid to rest in the spot where he had first felt a passion for the place.
Rachel sat down. Her legs ached with the climb and nervousness seemed to infuse them with what was becoming a familiar weakness whenever Luke was nearby.
"Rae."
"Hello Luke."
She could see he hadn't shaved, that his eyes were sunken. His lips were white, a warning that physically he wasn't doing too well either. When had he last eaten? Grief submerged physical needs. Hunger intensified suffering. It was a vicious circle. Luke's pain was the kind that needed more than medical knowledge and skill to deal with it. More than an impulse. Nervously Rachel wet her lips and waited.
A scene exploded on her mental screen. Bangladesh. A funeral. She had been on the outskirts of the crowd watching the mourners beat their chests and wail aloud. That kind of outburst was better than this silent suffering.
Had Luke ever taken the time to grieve for Rob and Chris? Always the comforter, never the comforted, had he overlooked his own need to mourn?
Rachel thought of the strength she had drawn on since the first moment she had seen him, of the way he was with Hannah and Theresa. Calm, gently teasing, talking to them about his work and the farm, listening to them go over their day, as if he sensed the well of loneliness Rob and Chris's deaths had plunged them into. As if he wanted to make up to them for it.
Anyone could provide for another materially, but Luke nurtured souls.
Rachel hauled in a deep breath, let it out slowly and lifted her chin.
"You shouldn't have come. It's cold."
"I know." Rubbing her hands together she blew on them. Four and a half years in a warm climate had thinned her blood. She huddled deeper inside her jacket, placing her numb hands under her armpits.
"Come here." Luke held each hand between both of his and rubbed briskly. Rachel struggled with the desire to lift his hands to her face. The sudden flush that swept her body at the thought shamed her. She was here to give if she could, not take. Gently she removed her hands from his grasp and reached for the bag slung on her shoulders. "I brought some lunch."
The boiled egg sandwiches were Luke's favorite. Theresa hadn't said a word as she'd watched Rachel make them and then wrap a generous slab of Hannah's fruit cake in foil, merely added a thermos of herbal tea, and told her to dress warm.
Luke didn't say a word. Rachel consoled herself that silence was better than an outright denial that he needed food.
"They're not very good," she hurried on, hating to trick him, but desperate enough to try anything. "I won't blame you for not finishing even one. You'd think I could at least make a decent sandwich by now."
It worked. He looked at her, reached for one of the sandwiches and said, "You did well with the quiche the other night."
Watching him take his first bite Rachel said, "Only because Theresa was right there telling me exactly what to do."
She kept up a flood of small talk, glad to see the gauntness leave his face as he ate, putting another sandwich into his hands as soon as he finished the first. By the time the cake was gone; his lips had resumed their normal healthy color.
Rachel got to her feet brushing the crumbs from her clothes. She had eaten a whole sandwich herself before remembering she didn't care for this particular filling.
"Gordie must be up from his nap by now. I'd better be getting back."
She held her breath. Would Luke come with her or would he choose to linger here with his memories? She had just tended to his hunger. The way to his soul Rachel wasn't sure she would find so easil
y.
Her luck held. He stirred and got to his feet. "I'll walk back with you."
They didn't say much on the way back but close to the house Luke cleared his throat and said, "Thanks, Rae."
As soon as they got back Rachel gave Marie the rest of the afternoon off. Step two of her impromptu plan was about to go into action. When Luke came out of his bedroom, shaved and freshly showered, Rachel held Gordie out to him.
"Would you keep an eye on him for me?' she asked, "Marie wasn't feeling too good so I sent her home to rest. I'm going to try out a new recipe for a lemon cake that requires all my concentration."
That part was plausible anyway. Every recipe, even boiling eggs, needed her total concentration.
Nap-refreshed Gordie's demands would keep Luke too busy to brood. She watched him tuck his nephew under his arm and go towards his study. Tiptoeing to the study door a while later, the sound of Gordie's chuckles informed her that they were mock-wrestling on the carpet. Smiling Rachel hurried back to sprinkle some flour on the counter and leave some lemon rinds there as well, wondering what else went into a lemon cake. If Luke ever thought to ask about the cake she could always say it had gone the way of her other culinary experiments: feed for the garbage disposal.
While Luke gave Gordie his dinner, Rachel made a great show of cleaning up the kitchen. Hannah's chicken casserole was being reheated in the oven and the aroma Rachel hoped would entice Luke into the kitchen. It didn't.
He bathed Gordie, tucked him into his crib for the night and went back into his study firmly shutting the door. Rachel waited half an hour before she went into her plan of action. Picking up the tray she had prepared she squared her shoulders.
The room was in darkness when she pushed it open with her foot, the wedge of light coming in through the open door the only source of illumination. Luke's chair was turned towards the large window. He didn't even turn his head when she set the tray down.
Faith Hope and Love (A Homespun Romance) Page 11
