Country Brides (30 page)

Once she started undressing, she discovered that Luke hadn't been too far wrong when he'd suggested she needed help. By the time she sank into the warm water, she was shivering, exhausted and intensely cold again. But the water felt wonderful, although it stung her tender skin. When the prickling sensation left her, she was almost overwhelmed by the sensation of comfort. She sighed deeply, closed her eyes and lay back in the tepid water.

“Kate,” Luke called from the other side of the door, “are you okay in there?”

“I'm fine.”

“Do you need anything?”

“No,” she assured him.

A sudden thought made her bolt upright, gasping.
Luke could have died searching for me.
She closed her eyes and whispered a prayer of thanks that the events of this traumatic afternoon had turned out as they had.

She must have sobbed because Luke called out, “What's wrong? It sounds like you're crying.”

“You…could have died trying to find me.”

“I didn't.”

“I know,” she said hoarsely, biting her lip. “I 'm glad. I wouldn't want you to die.”

“That's encouraging,” he answered with a soft laugh.

Dressed in her flannel pyjamas and long robe, her hair hanging wetly against her shoulders, Kate let herself out of the bathroom. She looked like something the cat had proudly dragged onto the porch, but at least she felt better. A thousand times better.

Luke was sitting in the kitchen, nursing a shot glass of whiskey. Kate had very rarely seen Luke drink straight liquor.

“I blame myself,” he muttered. “I knew about the storm and didn't warn you.”

“Warn me? That wouldn't have made any difference. I would've gone into town anyway. I had to be there before noon if I was going to get the apartment. You couldn't have stopped me, Luke. You know that.”

Luke shook his head grimly. “What I can't understand is why moving away from here is so all-fired important that you'd risk your fool neck to do it.”

“Mrs. Jackson said she'd have to give the apartment to someone else if I wasn't there.”

“She wouldn't have understood if you'd phoned? You had to go look at it in a blizzard?” He urged her into a chair and poured a cup of hot coffee, adding a liberal dose of whiskey before handing her the cup.

“I already told you I couldn't wait. Besides, it wasn't snowing when I drove there,” Kate said patiently. “Please don't be angry, Luke.” She reached for his hand, needing to touch him.

He clutched her fingers with his own. “Kate, if anything should convince you we ought to get married, this is it. You need me, Princess, can't you see that?” He released her hand to brush the damp curls from her forehead. “How many times do I have to tell you that before you'll believe it?”

“Oh, Luke,” she moaned, feeling close to tears.

“I want to take care of you, Kate. What nearly happened today, plus the fiasco with Eric Wilson, should tell you something.”

She stared at him, feeling lost and disoriented. “There are women in this community, women my age, who already have children.” Even as she spoke, she knew she wasn't making sense.

Luke blinked in confusion. “You want children? Great, so do I. In fact, I'm hoping we'll have several.”

“That's not what I meant,” Kate said, exasperated. She tried again. “These women don't live with a guardian.” Was that clearer? she wondered.

“Of course they don't—they're married,” Luke countered sharply.

Kate shut her eyes. “Don 't you understand? I'm old enough to be on my own. I don't need someone to protect me.”

“We're not discussing your age.”

“You don't
love
me,” she blurted. “You feel sorry for me, that's all. You think because Clay's married to Rorie and…and Dad married Dorothea that I don't have anyone. But I do! There's Linda and lots of other friends. I've got a good life. I don't need to get married.”

Luke sprang from the chair and walked to the sink, pressing both hands against the edge, hunching his shoulders, his back toward her. He said nothing for several minutes and when he finally spoke, his voice was cool, detached. “All I can say is that you must feel a lot more strongly about this than I realized. Apparently you're willing to risk your life to get away from me.”

“I didn't go to town knowing I was in any danger,” she objected, but he didn't seem to hear.

“Then leave, Kate. I won't try to keep you any longer, despite the fact that I love you and want to marry you. If you want your independence so badly, then take it.”

“Luke, please, you don't love me—not the way you should.”

“Oh, and what do you know about that? Obviously nothing.”

“I know you keep saying you want to take care of me.”

“That's so wrong?”

“Yes! A woman needs more. She needs to be an equal. She—”

“My love and my life are all I've got to offer you, Kate,” he broke in. “It 's a take-it-or-leave-it proposition.”

“That's not fair,” she said. “You make it sound as though I'm going to live my life alone if I don't marry you within the next ten minutes.”

Slowly he turned to face her. His eyes were piercing and as dark as she'd ever seen them. “Fine. You've made your choice. I'm not going to stand here arguing with you. It's over, Kate. This is the last time we'll talk about marriage.”

She tried to say something, but couldn't think coherently. Even if she'd been able to work out her thoughts and give them voice, she doubted Luke was in any mood to listen. He avoided looking at her as he stalked out of the house.

A fire was blazing in the fireplace and Kate stretched out on the nearby sofa, intending to mull over Luke's words. But her eyes felt as heavy as her heart, and almost as soon as she laid her head on the pillow, she was asleep.

Someone working in the kitchen stirred Kate to wakefulness, and when she glanced at her watch she was shocked to see that she'd slept for almost two hours.

Her heart soared when she thought it must be Luke. He'd been so angry with her earlier, although she supposed his anxiety about finding her in the snowstorm explained his attitude. She hoped they could clear the air.

But it wasn't Luke. Instead, Rorie peered into the living room, her eyes concerned.

“I hope you don't mind. Luke let me in.”

“You're always welcome here, Rorie, you know that.”

“Bill Schmidt called with an incredible story about you being lost in the storm. I could hardly believe it. Clay drove me over as soon as he could, but to be honest I don't know who was worse off—you or Luke.”

At the mention of his name, Kate lowered her gaze to the multicolored quilt spread across her lap. Idly she smoothed the wrinkles, trying not to think about Luke.

“How are you feeling?”

“I'm okay. I just have a headache.”

“A bad one from the look of you. I've never seen you this pale.”

Kate's hands twisted the edge of the homemade quilt. “Luke was furious with me for going into town—I found an apartment, Rorie. He said it was over between us.” She began to cry. “He said he'd be glad when I was gone and that he'd…never bother me again.” By the time Kate had finished, her voice was reduced to a hoarse whisper.

“I see,” Rorie murmured.

“I don't even recognize Luke anymore. We used to be able to talk to each other and joke together, but lately we can't seem to discuss anything in a rational manner. I've tried, Rorie, I really have, but Luke makes everything so difficult.”

“Men have a habit of doing that.”

“I wanted to tell Luke about the night I had dinner with you and Clay and—” She stopped abruptly when she realized what she'd almost said.

“What about it?” Rorie coaxed.

“It's just that I'd dreaded the evening because I was afraid of being with Clay again. I'm sorry, I don't want to upset you, Rorie, but I loved Clay for a long time, and getting over him was much harder than I thought it would be. Until the night we were all together.” The words came rushing from her. “I saw Clay with you and I assumed I'd feel all this pain, but instead I felt completely free. You're both so happy, and I knew, then and there, that I never loved Clay the way you do. True, I adored him for years, but it was more of an adolescent infatuation. Clay was part of my youth. When I understood all these things about myself, all these changes, I felt such hope, such excitement.”

“Oh, Kate, I'm so pleased to hear that.” A shy smile dented Rorie's cheeks.

“I wanted to explain all this to Luke, but I never got the chance, and now it's all so much worse. I don't know if we'll ever be able to talk to each other again.”

“Of course you will.”

“But he sounded so angry.”

“I'm sure that's because of his concern for your safety.”

“I can't talk to him,” Kate repeated sadly. “At least not yet and maybe not ever…”

“Yes, you will, and it'll be sooner than you think,” Rorie said. “You won't be able to break off all those years of friendship, and neither will he. He'll be around in a day or two, ready to apologize for being so harsh. Just you wait and see.”

Kate shook her head. “You make it all seem so easy.”

“Trust me, I know it isn't. When I think back to the way things went between Clay and me, I empathize all the more with what you're going through now.”

Kate remembered the dark days following Clay's visit to California. Neither Rorie nor Clay had ever told her what happened. Clay had gone to San Francisco, intending to bring Rorie back with him, and instead had returned alone.

“Maybe we need to get away from each other for a while,” Kate said. “Maybe if we aren't in such close proximity, we'll be able to sort out what we really feel for each other.”

“When are you moving to town?”

“Monday,” Kate said, looking at the cardboard boxes stacked against the opposite wall.

“Do you need help? Skip, Clay and I could easily lend a hand.”

“That would be wonderful.”

The rest of the weekend passed in a blur. Kate didn't see Luke once. So much for Rorie's assurances that he'd come by soon to talk everything out. Apparently he meant what he'd said.

Monday morning, when she was about to leave for school, Kate paused before she got into her car, deciding she should at least say goodbye to Luke before she moved out.

Luke wasn't in the barn, but Bill Schmidt was.

“Good morning, Bill.”

“Howdy, Kate,” he said with a wide grin. “Glad to see there's no ill effects from your accident.”

“None, thanks. Is Luke around?”

Bill settled his hands in the pockets of his bib overalls. “No. Thought you knew. He left yesterday afternoon for New Mexico to look at some new equipment. He won't be back until Thursday.”

K
ate was carrying the last of the cardboard boxes to the recycling bins outside the apartment building on Thursday evening when she saw Luke's pickup turn onto Spruce Street. He came to a grinding halt at the curb, vaulted out of the cab and stood there scowling. His features were contorted, but for the life of her Kate couldn't understand why he was so irritated. Didn't he
tell
her to move? Wasn't this what he wanted?

She was about to make her presence known, but before she could act, Luke brought his fist down on the bonnet. She heard the sound from where she was standing. It must have smarted because he rubbed his knuckles, gazing intently at the red-brick building. Then, tucking his hands in the back pockets of his jeans, he squared his shoulders and strode toward it. He stopped abruptly, then retreated to his truck. Opening the door, he balanced one foot on the side rail, as if he was about to leap into the cab.

Kate leaned forward on the tips of her toes and stretched out her hand to stop him. It took everything in her not to rush forward. She was afraid she'd burst into tears. Viewing Luke's behavior had touched something deep within her.

If Luke had planned to drive away, he apparently changed his mind, because he slammed the door shut and resolutely faced the building again.

Knowing that the time to make her move was now, Kate casually turned the corner.

“Kate.”

“Luke,” she said, pretending surprise.

For a moment, Luke didn't say a word. “I just got back to the ranch and discovered that the main house was empty. I thought you'd be there when I returned.”

“Mrs. Jackson said I could have the apartment Monday, and since Rorie, Clay and Skip were able to help me move, I couldn't see any reason to delay.”

“You might've told me.”

Kate lowered her eyes, feeling a little guilty, since they'd parted on such unfriendly terms. “I tried, but you'd already left for New Mexico.”

“Bill did say you wanted to talk to me,” he conceded.

“Would you like to come inside?” she asked, opening the door for him.

“All right.” He sounded reluctant.

Once in the apartment they stood looking at each other, and Kate felt suddenly awkward. Luke's eyes were dark and luminous and his face had never seemed so dear to her—familiar, yet in some exciting new way, not fully known. She would've liked nothing better than to walk into his arms. She wanted to tell him how sorry she was about the way they'd parted, to tell him she was ready to accept his proposal on any terms. But her pride made that impossible.

“Nice place,” he said when the silence became painful. He tucked his fingers in his back pockets again.

“Can I take your coat?”

“Please.” He took it off and gave it to her.

She motioned toward the sofa. “Would you like to sit down?”

He nodded and sat on the edge of the cushion. Leaning forward, he balanced his hands between his knees and rotated his hat with his fingers. Luke had sat on this very same sofa a thousand times, but he'd never looked as uncomfortable as he did now.

“I came to apologize for the last time we spoke.”

“Oh, Luke,” she whispered, sitting in the overstuffed chair across from him. “I felt bad, too. Why do we argue like that? Some days I feel we're growing further and further apart, and I don't want that.”

“I'd like to suggest we put an end to this nonsense, but you've made your views plain enough.”

“You still want to take care of me?”

“I don't think that's so wrong.”

“I know.” She sighed, tired of repeating the same arguments. “But I'm fully capable of doing that myself.”

“Right,” he said with deadly softness. “You took care of yourself pretty well during that snowstorm, didn't you?”

“Why don't you throw Eric Wilson in my face while you're at it? I thought you came because you regretted our last argument, but it looks to me as if you're trying to start another one.”

“All right,” he shouted, “I'll stop! You asked me not to bring up the distasteful subject of marriage and I agreed. It's just that—” He clamped his mouth shut. “We're better off dropping the subject entirely,” he finished stiffly.

“I hate when we argue,” Kate said.

“So do I, Princess.”

Although his tone was light, Kate heard the distress in his voice. It filled her with regret, and she longed for something comforting to say, something that would ease this awkwardness between them, and restore a sense of balance to their relationship.

“Do you need anything, Kate?”

“No. I'm fine,” she rushed to assure him. She might occasionally date the wrong men and take foolish risks in snowstorms, but she could manage her own life!

Luke glanced around the room, then slowly nodded as if accepting the truth of her words.

“It was kind of you to stop by…I mean, it's good to see you and I really am grateful you wanted to clear the air, too.”

“Are you saying you missed me while I was away?”

She had, terribly, but until that moment, Kate hadn't been willing to admit it, even to herself. Unconsciously she'd been waiting for Thursday, hoping to hear from Luke—but not really expecting to. For the past few days, she'd worked frantically to unpack her things and make her apartment presentable. And all along it had been an effort to prove to Luke how efficient and capable she actually was. After falling on her face so many times, she wanted this transition from the ranch house to her first apartment to go off without a hitch. It was a matter of pride.

They were like polite strangers with each other. Kate couldn't think of a single clever remark or probing question to reduce the tension between them.

“Have you eaten?” Luke asked brusquely. “I thought I'd take you to dinner. I realize I'm not giving you much notice and I read somewhere that women don't like a man to take things for granted, so if you don't want to go, I'll understand.”

He sounded as though he assumed she'd reject his invitation. “I 'd love to have dinner with you,” she said, unable to hide a smile.

Luke seemed shocked by her easy acquiescence.

Kate stood up, stretching luxuriously. “If you'll give me a moment, I'll freshen up.” She couldn't keep the happiness out of her voice.

Luke rose then, and his presence seemed to dwarf her small living room. Only a few scant inches separated them. With one finger, he tilted up her chin and looked deep into her eyes. “You honestly missed me?” he whispered.

For some reason, her throat squeezed shut and Kate was forced to answer him without words. She cradled his face between both hands and gazed up at him, nodding fervently.

Luke's eyes darkened and she thought he meant to kiss her. Just when she was prepared to slip into his arms and raise her mouth to his, he pulled loose from her light grasp and stepped back. Kate swallowed her disappointment.

“I was thinking about that pizza parlour in Riversdale,” he said gruffly.

“Pizza would be wonderful,” Kate said.

“Then it's settled.”

Kate didn't bother to change clothes, but ran a brush through her hair and refreshed her make-up. A few minutes later, she was ready to leave. Luke stood at the door, and as she approached him, his appreciative look sent small flutters of awareness through her body.

Companionably they drove the thirty miles to Riversdale. By unspoken agreement they avoided any subject that would cause them to disagree.

The restaurant, Pizza Mania, was known throughout the county for its excellent Italian food. The room was dimly lit, and the wooden tables were covered with redcheckered cloths. Since it was a weeknight, the restaurant wasn't especially busy.

Luke guided her to a table in the middle of the homey room. Service was prompt and they quickly placed their order for a large sausage-and-black-olive pizza. Kate also ordered a raw vegetable platter with yogurt-herb dip, and she laughed at the disdainful expression on Luke's face. Then she laughed again.

“What's so funny now?”

“I was remembering the last time I ate pizza from here. It was when Rorie had just arrived, and she and I were making dinner for Clay and Skip. I made a lemon meringue pie and Rorie spent the entire afternoon preparing this fancy seafood dish.”

“Where does the pizza come in?”

Kate told Luke about the disastrous dinner, and he smiled slightly, shaking his head. “Rorie must've been devastated.”

“Actually she was a pretty good sport about the whole thing. We called Pizza Mania, ordered two large pizzas that Skip offered to pick up, and afterward we sat around the piano for a while.”

That night was when she'd realized how hard Clay was fighting not to fall in love with Rorie. All evening he'd tried not to even glance in her direction. Then, later, when he drove Kate home, he'd said barely a word and gently kissed her cheek after he'd walked her to the door. A peck on the cheek, the way he'd kiss a younger sister.

“What's wrong?” Luke asked.

“Nothing.” Kate summoned a smile. “What makes you ask?” She was relieved at the appearance of their vegetable appetizer, immediately reaching for a carrot stick.

“Your eyes looked kind of sad just now.”

Kate concentrated on munching her carrot, astonished at the way Luke so often seemed to know what she was thinking. But then, sometimes he didn't…. “That night was when I knew I was losing Clay to Rorie. My whole world was about to fall apart and I felt powerless to do anything about it. It didn't mean I stopped trying, of course—it hurt too much to accept without putting up a fight.” She paused and helped herself to a zucchini strip. “Enough about me. It seems I'm the only one we ever discuss. How was your trip to New Mexico?” she asked brightly, determined to change the subject.

“Good.” He didn't elaborate. His eyes held hers, the mood warm and comfortable. “There are going to be a few changes around the Circle L in the coming months. I don't want you to be surprised when you find out I'm adding a couple of outbuildings and doing some remodelling on the house.”

Although he spoke in a conversational tone, Kate wasn't fooled. “The Circle L belongs to you now. I expect there'll be plenty of changes, but don't worry about offending me or Dad.”

He nodded and his eyes brightened with his dreams for the future. “I intend to turn it into one of the top cattle ranches on the West Coast.”

“I'm sure you'll do it, Luke.” And she was.

He seemed pleased by her confidence in him. Kate couldn't help believing in Luke. In the ten years he'd worked for her father, he'd initiated several successful breeding programs. With each passing year, Devin had turned more and more of the ranch business over to Luke. Her father had become a figurehead. Kate had often heard Devin say that he couldn't understand why Luke would continue working for him when he was completely capable of maintaining his own spread. At one time, Kate had thought money was the issue, but that obviously wasn't the case.

“Why'd you delay buying your own ranch for so long?” Kate asked, just as their pizza arrived. Their waitress remained standing at their table and studied them so blatantly that Luke turned to her.

“Is something wrong?” he asked sharply.

“No…not at all. Enjoy your dinner.” She backed away from their table and hurried over to the counter, where two other employees were waiting. Almost immediately the three of them huddled together and started whispering.

Luke chose to ignore their waitress's strange behavior and lifted a steaming piece, thick with melted cheese and spicy sausage, onto her plate. Then he served himself.

“Now, where were we?” Luke murmured.

“I asked why you didn't buy your own ranch before now.”

“You don't want to know the answer to that, Princess.”

“Of course I do. I wouldn't have brought it up otherwise,” she insisted.

“Fine.” Luke settled back in his chair. He looked at her, eyes thoughtful. “I had a minor problem. I was in love with the boss's daughter and she was crazy about me, only she didn't know it. In fact, she'd gotten herself engaged to someone else. I was afraid that if I moved away she'd never realize how I felt—or how she did—and frankly, I didn't think I could ever love anyone the way I do her.”

Kate focused her attention on her meal. The lump in her throat was almost choking her. “You're right about…me not loving Clay,” she told him softly. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't raise her eyes high enough to meet his.

“What did you say?”

“I…You were right about me and Clay. I could never feel for him the things a wife should feel for her husband. I'd adored him for years, but that love was just a teenage fantasy.”

She was well aware of the seriousness of her admission. The room seemed to go still; the music from the juke box faded, the clatter from the kitchen dimmed, and the voices from the people around them seemed to disappear altogether.