Homecoming Ranch (25 page)

“I can’t vouch for how clean it is.”

“I won’t judge,” she said with a smile, and hopped out of the truck. The wind had picked up; she cried out with alarm. “It’s
freezing
!” she shouted, and darted for the front door, the hem of her dress kicking up behind her, revealing some very shapely hamstrings.

Hamstrings.
Luke was admiring a woman’s hamstrings. He told himself to reel it in, to stop looking at dimples and hamstrings and the way bear whistles rested between two very excellent breasts. He walked up behind her, reached around, unlocked the door and pushed it open. Madeline hopped inside like a bird, with her arms wrapped tightly around her.

Just inside the door, Luke pulled one of his flannel jackets off a hook. “Here. You’re making me cold just looking at you.”

“
Thank
you,” she said gratefully, and slipped into it. “I’m going to have all your jackets at this rate.” The jacket dwarfed her, but she sighed with delight. “Heaven,” she said. She glanced around, her gaze looking up, to the crown molding, and then down, to the hardwoods and window casings Luke had put in himself. He’d painted the living room sea green. It was the color he remembered the ocean to be when he and Leo and his parents had vacationed in California many years ago.

“Wow,” Madeline said, slowly turning in a circle, nodding appreciatively. “This place is
nice.
Did you do it?”

“I did.”

“While you were in school?”

He nodded. While he was in school, while he was working. He’d found that he didn’t have to think about troubles at home if he kept himself occupied every moment of every day.

“It’s gorgeous, Luke.” She moved forward, leaning through the doorway to peer into the adjoining kitchen. “Oh, wow,
completely
upgraded. You did it all by yourself?”

“All by myself.”

She turned around and beamed at him. “It’s really fantastic. You could make a fortune in Orlando. I—” Her cell phone rang, startling her. Madeline fished her phone from the little purse that hung around her neck. “Oh,” she said, looking at the number. “Excuse me,” she said to Luke, then answered the phone with a “Bree? Is everything okay? It’s after hours there—”

Whatever Bree said caused Madeline to gasp. “You’re kidding,” she said flatly. “Are you
kidding
?” She suddenly let out a shriek to Luke’s ceiling and did a fist pump. “That’s
fabulous!”
She pulled the phone away from her mouth and said to Luke, “I got an offer on the DiNapoli property!” She followed that with a bit of a Snoopy dance, then put the phone to her head again. “Okay, lay it on me. What’s the offer?”

Whatever Bree said dimmed Madeline’s smile a little. She stood up a little straighter. “Okay,” she said, nodding. “Okay. We can work with
that. I mean, yes, it’s a million less than what Mr. DiNapoli wanted, but he has to be reasonable. Give me something to sweeten the pot—how soon can they close?”

She nodded as Bree talked, her brow furrowed in concentration. “Fabulous,” she said. “Who’s the realtor? Andy Griggs!
Gah
,” she groaned, bending backward. “Okay, all right, so I will call and present the offer to Mr. DiNapoli and give Andy a call. Great. Thank you, Bree! Thank you! And wish me luck!” She hung up the phone and looked at Luke. She seemed almost to levitate off the floor. “I have an
offer.
Granted, it’s a lowball offer, but still, it’s an offer!” She squealed again, then took a deep breath, and another, and punched in the number of the seller.

“Mr. DiNapoli!” she said brightly when the client answered, and whirled around, her back to Luke. “Hi! It’s Madeline Pruett, and I have
great
news.” She walked into the kitchen, talking very quickly, laying out the offer.

Luke could tell from the way her hand curled into a little fist and how fast she began to speak that DiNapoli didn’t like the offer. But he had to hand it to her, Madeline was selling it. It was as if she had compiled a mental list of all the reasons why this was a great deal for the seller, and she was rolling through them, one by one, marking them off. Luke walked to the front windows and looked out while she talked. The sky to the north was so black that it almost looked green. They needed to leave now, or risk getting caught in what looked like would be one very ugly storm.

“Just think about it,” he heard Madeline say. “We will counter, and if it’s the statuary you feel is undervalued, maybe we can talk about removing that—Yes, I understand that you built the house around the art. But, Mr. DiNapoli, I’ll be frank. You’ve had the house on the market for two years. Perhaps you should consider the idea that not everyone appreciates the sophistication of your artistry, you know? I mean, if you think about it, most people aren’t exposed to the kind of art education
you’ve
had.… Okay, great. I’ll wait to hear from you, then. But we could close this deal tonight. Just saying. All right.”

She clicked off and turned around, her expression exuberant. “He’s going to consider it. He’s actually
considering
it! Oh my God, I may sell that ugly pile of stones!” She threw her arms in the air in victory.

Luke grinned at her happiness. “That’s great news, Maddie. I’m happy for you. Listen, we better get going before the weather moves in—”

“What? No!” she cried. “No, no, I can’t risk losing reception in the mountains on the biggest deal of my life! No, Luke, I have to stay put until he calls.”

“We don’t want to be driving across Sometimes Pass at night and in the middle of a really bad storm.”

“Please, Luke,” she said. “This is a really big deal for me.”

It was impossible to say no to that pretty face with the dancing blue eyes. “Okay,” he said, and Madeline made that little sound of happiness again.

“Okay, give me two secs. I have to call Trudi. And my mom,” she said, and punched her phone again.

Luke decided to build a small fire to warm the living room, and went about that as he listened to her chatter to the person named Trudi, who was, judging by the talk, a very close friend. He heard Madeline say in the course of the conversation that she was getting another call. He stepped outside for more wood—the wind was horrible now, bending the old elm in the backyard—and when he stepped back in, he realized she was speaking to Mr. DiNapoli.

“That’s
great,”
she said, sounding almost breathless. “You won’t be sorry, Mr. DiNapoli. I am sure your beach house will be
stunning
with the statuary… Well, your wife didn’t want it in Orlando, either, as I recall, so I am sure you can convince her again.”

Luke could hear Mr. DiNapoli’s deep voice on the other end of her cell, rattling on about Greece or something.

“Okay, well, I better get hold of the buyer’s realtor and present the counter. Don’t want them to get cold feet!” A few moments later, Luke heard her say, “Hello, Andy.” Her voice had changed completely; it was low and professional. The voice of the Madeline who had shown up at Homecoming Ranch the first day.

“Madeline Pruett here. Thank you for the offer on the DiNapoli property—what? I’ve had the listing several months. Why?” A moment later, she said, not as smoothly, “Oh spare me, Andy. He’s not going to give it away… Yes, I have a counter.” She marched into Luke’s kitchen, her boots clumping on the wood floors, and told him what DiNapoli would accept. “Hey! That’s not nice. He is a very nice man, and he’s going to put the statuary out in his beach house. So are you going to present the counter to your client? What do you mean, they won’t take it?”

Luke helped himself to a beer and perched on a barstool, enjoying the wrangling between Madeline and the Griggs guy. Madeline was a persistent woman—she laid out every conceivable selling point, down to the superior quality of the stone in the garage. In the end, it must have been enough to convince the other guy, because when she hung up, she whirled around and said, “He’s buying in to the counter offer. I think. Maybe.” She beamed at Luke.

Her announcement was punctuated by a peel of thunder over their heads. Madeline jumped; she looked at her phone. “Don’t lose a signal now, please, please, don’t lose a signal.”

Rain began to pelt Luke’s little house, and quickly turned into heavy, gray sheets. Madeline beat a steady rhythm on the back of a chair with her fist, staring at her phone. “Hey,” Luke said. “Take a breath. You’re about to make the biggest deal of your life.”

Her eyes sparked with delight; she grinned. “Do you know how long I’ve been trying to sell this house? When I think of the open houses, the events, the advertising! Everyone in real estate in Orlando laughed when I took that listing. Especially Andy Griggs, so of course it would be
him
to call with a lowball offer, but that’s okay, I can deal with him. I mean, we countered with half a million off the asking price. A half million! I practically had to tie Mr. DiNapoli down and get him to agree to list the place for three and a half million, which I can assure you is
way
over market. So to get him to come down—and someone to offer! Sometimes, people don’t care about price, they only care about location or amenities, and they—”

Her phone rang.

Madeline gasped. She stared at her phone. “It’s Andy.” The phone rang again. “What if they don’t take it? What if I have to keep that stupid listing?”

“Maddie… answer it,” Luke said calmly.

“Right.” She answered the phone, sliding into a professional voice. “Hi, Andy. What’s up?”

She traced a finger along the edge of his table. “Mm-hm,” she said, “Okay.” She paused, her hand coming to a halt on the table. “That’s
great
. Your clients will be very happy.… Thank you, Andy! No, I can’t get a drink to celebrate,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “I’ll have Bree draw up the paperwork and get it over to you first thing.” She paused. And then she said softly, “Seriously—thank you, Andy.” She hung up the phone. She whirled around as another crack of thunder rattled the windows. She threw her hands up in the air, bent backward and laughed. It was not a chuckle, not even a chortle. Madeline’s laugh was deep, from the belly. It was a laugh of pure joy, of happiness.

“I
sold
it, Luke!” she cried. “I sold that sorry piece of expensive shit!” She suddenly threw her arms around him and did a little quickstep to one side, then the other, hugging him. Luke managed to hang on to his chair. He also managed to catch the scent of her hair. It reminded him of the lilac trees that grew in his mother’s garden.

Just as suddenly, Madeline let go. “Do you know what this
means
?” she cried, and punched him in the arm. “It means I’m going to make a
huge
commission!” She gasped. “Oh my God, I
am
! And it means people will have to take me seriously! Oh! I almost forgot! I have to call Mr. DiNapoli!” She grabbed up her phone, punching the Call Return button as she walked out of the kitchen, away from Luke, her smile radiant, her eyes brilliant.

Luke stood up from the bar and turned around to the window. He stared at the deluge of rain, hardly seeing it. He didn’t really hear Madeline in the other room, talking about closing dates.

He was thinking about lilacs. He really liked lilacs. He had no idea until this moment just how much he liked lilacs.

The rain was falling so hard that if Madeline could have reached her mother, she wouldn’t have been able to hear her. She put her phone aside and turned around—and saw Luke beneath the arched entry into the kitchen and dining area. He was leaning up against it, holding a frozen pizza. He smiled at her. “Hungry?”

“Starving,” Madeline said gratefully.

She followed him into the kitchen, watched him turn on his oven, then slide in the pizza. He then reached into his fridge and pulled out two bottles of beer. He twisted the top off of one and put it in front of her. “We should toast your great sale,” he said.

Madeline stared at the bottle as he took the top off the second one.

“Don’t tell me you don’t drink beer,” he said.

“Rarely.” She glanced up at him. “Okay, never. I drank it once.”

“Don’t like the taste?”

“No, that’s not it. I don’t drink very much. I spent too many years cleaning up after my mom’s drinking.”

“Fair enough,” he said. “But this is good beer, and your big sale deserves a big toast.”

He was right. If Trudi were here, she’d be yelling at Madeline to step outside her bubble, pick up the beer and
drink
. She smiled at the image of Trudi and picked up the beer. How ironic that of all the people
in the world who should be here to share this moment with her, it wasn’t Trudi, it was Luke Kendrick.

“To Blue Eyes Pruett,” Luke said, lifting his bottle aloft, and nodding at her to do the same. “The best realtor in Orlando, Florida.”

Madeline grinned. “Here, here,” she said, and tapped her bottle to his. She drank hesitantly, but was surprised that the beer went down smoothly. “
Hey
,” she said. “It’s good.”

“Of course it’s good,” Luke said. “It’s made right here in Denver with pure mountain water.” He gave her a wry smile and turned back to the stove.

Ten minutes later, they were sitting side by side at his kitchen bar, eating pepperoni pizza, drinking beer, and chatting. Luke was great company, Madeline had to admit. He was easy to talk to, and seemed genuinely interested in her.

He asked how she got into real estate.

“Looking for something,” she said picking at the pepperonis on her second slice. “I wanted to go to college. I had grand dreams of being a doctor or a lawyer. You know, something important,” she said with a laugh. “If I could have figured out how to do it, I would have, but unfortunately, we didn’t have the money for me to go to college.” She bit into her pizza. The lack of money was a sore spot for Madeline. Her grandparents had saved for her college, but they’d made the mistake of leaving her mother in charge of it. It was the story of her life—her mother abused her parents’ trust and their resources time and again, and time and again, her grandparents kept trying to pretend their daughter was a stand-up adult.

“So you went into real estate.”