Deceived (12 page)

Sarah ran her hands through her hair and checked her appearance in the mirror, then sent one last glance toward the bedside clock. Nine
A.M.

She couldn't even remember the last time she'd slept past six. Normally, Eli was up at the crack of dawn—the quintessential morning person, eager to begin the day and greet whatever adventure awaited. But not today. She'd not heard a peep since she'd awakened half an hour earlier. It was like she'd walked into some kind of alternate reality.

Feeling well-rested for the first time since Greg's death, she left her room with a smile and headed down the hall to peek in on Eli. But when she got to the bedroom door, her heart leapt into her throat, choking her breath.

“Eli!” she called, pivoting and racing toward the stairs. “Eli!”

“Down here, Mom!” came a muffled reply.

Sarah nearly collapsed with relief as she raced down the stairs. “Where are you?” she called out again as she reached the bottom, her gaze taking in the great room in a glance.

“Kitchen.”

It was Luke's voice—which had an entirely different effect on her heart and knees....

Not wanting to let on as to just how panicked she'd been, Sarah took a deep breath and let it out slowly before forcing herself to stroll casually into the kitchen. She wasn't sure what she expected to encounter, but it wasn't the scene before her. Eli was standing on a step stool at the stove, spatula in hand, flour on his shirt and pancake batter on his cheek.

“Hey, Mom! Luke and I are making pancakes,” Eli called out merrily. Then his eyes went wide and he added quickly, “Luke said it was okay for me to call him by his name.”

Sarah glanced toward where Luke was leaning nonchalantly against the counter across from Eli, mug of coffee in hand. His dark gaze took her in from head to toe in one quick, heated sweep, but his tone betrayed nothing when he said, “Eli wanted to surprise you.”

“Well, you succeeded,” she said, coming forward as Luke poured a second mug of coffee and held it out. “I don't usually let Eli use the stove.”

“I've learned lots of new stuff already today,” Eli told her, wrinkling his forehead in concentration as he carefully slid the spatula beneath one of the pancakes on the griddle. “Luke taught me how to groom horses and gather the eggs from his chickens and how to make pancakes and sausage and how to get out of a choke hold—”

Sarah nearly spit her coffee across the room. “What? A
choke hold?
”

Eli nodded, grinning from ear to ear. “And he says he'll teach me how to rip someone's nuts off.”

Sarah turned wide eyes on Luke.

“I was being metaphorical,” he told her with a shrug, a hint of unrepentant mischief in his eyes.

“Could we chat for a minute?” she said, jerking her head toward the other room.

“That's what Mom says when she's about to rip someone a new one but doesn't want everyone to hear,” Eli warned.

“
Elijah Gregory,
” Sarah hissed.

He held up his hands. “What? It's true.”

Luke pushed off the counter and offered Eli a conspiratorial wink before nodding toward the stove. “Don't forget—just until they're golden brown.”

The moment they were out of earshot, Sarah whirled on him. “What the hell are you
thinking?
”

Luke pulled back in response to her harsh words, which Sarah would've found amusing—big, tough guy that he was recoiling from the elementary schoolteacher who was at least a foot shorter—had she not been so angry.

“I don't see why you're pissed,” Luke told her.

“Well, for starters you have my eleven-year-old
cooking
,” Sarah said, sending a nervous glance into the kitchen to check on Eli.

“He wanted to help,” Luke told her. “You've never let him help you make anything?”

Sarah's anxiety continued to rise the longer she was away from the kitchen. “Sure. He's helped me make cookies. But I don't let him use the stove. It's too dangerous.”

Instead of laughing at her or rolling his eyes as Sarah was used to when people criticized her overprotectiveness with her son, Luke wrinkled his brow in concern. “So is riding a bike. Or walking down the street. Or going to school every day. Hell, how many school shootings have there been in recent years? You have to let him grow up—”

“Like
you
grew up?” Sarah shot back, instantly regretting her words when she saw how Luke's expression tightened.

“I wouldn't want any kid to have the childhood I did,” he assured her. “But isn't part of being a parent about guiding a kid and giving him the tools to be a responsible adult?”

Sarah studied him for a moment, trying to ascertain whether he'd asked because he was genuinely wanting to know or because he was yet another person who couldn't possibly understand.... “And you think part of the guidance I've failed to provide is teaching him how to
fight?
”

“I'm not teaching him to fight,” Luke corrected evenly. “I'm teaching him how to defend himself. Big difference.”

“Well, he's not your son,” Sarah snapped. “You don't get to make that call.”

Luke's jaw tightened. Clearly, Sarah had hit a raw nerve with her comment. “I wish someone had taught me how to fight on those nights my old man was wailing on my mom. I would've been happy to rip off that fucker's nuts. Eli wanted me to show him how to protect you, Sarah. I'm not saying no to that.”

Sarah's anger at Luke dissipated in an instant. “
Protect
me? No offense, Luke, but my situation isn't exactly like your mother's. Why would Eli need to protect
me?
If anything, it should be the other way around.”

Luke took a sip of his coffee, his gaze boring into her over the rim. “Eli loves you and doesn't want anything to happen to you. But I don't think it's entirely about you. After what happened at the festival, he needs to feel like he has some control, like he could protect you or himself if anything happened again.”

God, she could so relate to that.... After all, wasn't that exactly why she'd been such a hover-mother since Greg's death? Trying to protect Eli from any possible danger gave her some measure of control, of security that she wouldn't have Eli taken from her, too.

She glanced toward Eli again to see him loading up a plate with the finished pancakes. “But . . . he seems to be handling everything pretty well, all things considered. I'd planned to get him into therapy again after we get home.”

“With Dr. Locke?” Luke asked.

Sarah's attention snapped back to him. “How do you know about Dr. Locke?”

“Eli told me,” Luke admitted. “Did you ever get to sit in on the therapy sessions?”

Sarah shook her head. “No. Dr. Locke thought Eli would probably be more open with him if I wasn't sitting in there. But I was right outside the room the entire time. Are you insinuating something . . .”
God, she couldn't even say the words.
“. . . something
questionable
was happening in the sessions?”

Luke's thick brows came together. “No, nothing like that. Who recommended this guy to you?”

Sarah narrowed her eyes at him, wondering why he was so interested. “My father, oddly enough. My sister keeps him updated on things with us. I guess when he found out about Eli's struggles, he suggested a guy he knew in Portland who specializes in children who've lost a parent.”

Luke's expression morphed into a hard mask of fury. But his voice was calm when he said, “We'd better get back.”

Sarah watched in confusion as Luke stormed back into the kitchen, wondering what in the world had made him so angry about Eli's therapist. She was determined to press him on the issue, but when she entered the kitchen, Eli was busy scurrying around, setting the table.

“Wait!” Eli said, waving her back. “Close your eyes. I have to put the finishing touch on the table.”

Sarah glanced at Luke, who just lifted a shoulder, pretending he had no idea what Eli was talking about; then she closed her eyes. “Okay, tell me when I can look.”

She heard a shuffle of feet and then a quiet thud as Eli set something on the table. “Okay,” he said. “You can open them.”

In addition to having set the table, Eli had added an old watering can containing several branches boasting crimson maple leaves.

“I couldn't find any flowers,” Eli told her.

Sarah pulled him close for a hug and dropped a kiss to the top of his head. “This is beautiful! Thank you so much, sweetheart. What possessed you to do all this for me?”

Eli hugged her back, holding on just a little longer than usual. “I just thought it'd be nice.” He let her go then and hurried to his seat to dig into the pancakes, adding, “But the leaves were Luke's idea.”

Sarah sent Luke a questioning look, the heat rising in her cheeks as he leaned in to pull out her chair. “Thank you.”

He turned his head slightly, holding her gaze. “You're welcome.”

“
Good morning, gang!
”

“Hi, Melanie!” Eli called out at the sound of Melanie's cheerful voice from the other room. “I made pancakes!”

Sarah dragged her gaze away from Luke's as Melanie swept into the kitchen with a wiggling armload of grey fur.

“Awesome!” Mel said to Eli, giving the puppy she carried a good scratch before setting it down on the floor. “You'd better eat up. I'm going to need your help with this guy.” When Eli squatted down to play with the puppy, Mel turned her attention to Sarah and Luke, suppressing a knowing grin. “You two are
way
too cute with the flushed cheeks and guilty looks. Should I come back later when you're not gazing adoringly into one another's eyes?”

The heat in Sarah's cheeks grew, and she sent a glance Luke's way, too taken aback by Mel's sudden appearance—and the woman's astute assessment of the moment between her and Luke—to respond.

Luke merely gave his stepsister a bland look before diverting the subject. “What's with the dog?”

She washed her hands at the sink, then joined them at the table. “He's one Davis brought home. His mother was shot—probably while raiding a henhouse. Davis saw her and her two pups along the side of the road and took them to his clinic.”

“Was he able to save her?” Luke asked.

Mel shook her head. “No. He tried, but she was near dead by the time he found her.”

Luke eyed the dog warily. “That's a wolf-dog, Mel.”

Mel nodded. “Probably. But Davis wasn't about to turn them back out. They're too young.”

Luke leaned back and crossed his arms over his powerful chest. “And . . . ?”

She grinned at him. “And we're keeping one of the pups and thought you might like the other.”

“
Can
we keep him, Mom?” Eli pleaded. He'd gathered the puppy into his arms and it was now licking his laughing face.

“There's no ‘we,'” Sarah told him before she could catch herself. She shared a glance with Luke before adding, “We're just visiting with Luke, Eli. We don't have a place for a dog like this at our house.”

“Oh,” Mel stammered, looking back and forth between Sarah and Luke. “I thought . . . well, I just assumed . . .” She cleared her throat. “I'm sorry. Luke's never brought anyone here. I thought it meant . . .”

“Who's ready for pancakes?” Sarah asked, changing the subject. “Eli, put the puppy down and go wash your hands.”

They enjoyed their breakfast in silence until Sarah couldn't take it any longer and asked, “So, who's Davis?”

“Davis Bell,” Luke supplied. “Guy I knew in the army. He and I were at boot camp together. He got out and went to veterinary school right around the time I went into Special Forces. He has a vet clinic in town.”

Melanie chuckled. “What my stepbrother
isn't
saying is that he brought Davis home with him on leave and Davis and I have been together ever since.”

“I didn't
bring
him home,” Luke corrected. “Dude invited himself.”

“Well, I'm glad he did,” Mel teased. “Are you guys going to be here long enough for the wedding?”

“You're getting married?” Eli asked, his tone betraying the disappointment of a childhood crush.

Mel rifled his hair. “Yep. Right after Thanksgiving.”

“Unfortunately, we won't be staying that long,” Sarah said. “I have to get back to my teaching job and Eli has to get back to school. But thank you. And congratulations.”

Mel was clearly disappointed, but she smiled anyway. “Well, at least you'll get the chance to meet Davis. He's going to stop by today and check out that mare of yours that's ready to foal, Luke. And I think Dad might come with him. It's been a while since he's gotten out of the house. He wanted to come see you and meet your ‘lady friend.'”

Luke gave his stepsister an irritated look. “Melanie—”

“He's coming,” Mel interrupted. “Get over it.”

With that, she shoved back from the table. “Thank you for the breakfast, Eli. It was delicious. You want to come help me out in the barn for a while?”

Eli sent a questioning look to Sarah, who nodded. “Go ahead. But listen to Ms. Melanie.”

He jumped up and cleared his plate before racing out of the kitchen to grab his coat, the puppy at his heels with every step.

As soon as they'd gone, Luke sighed and began to clear the rest of the plates. “I'm going to end up with a dog, aren't I?”