by Unknown
Catherine thought of her shielding her family from her own secrets. “She only did what she thought was best.”
“I know, but that didn’t make it any better. So the next time I heard her, I woke up my brothers and sister and took them into her bedroom. Before she could wipe the tears away we were all in bed with her crying ourselves, but in the midst of the tears, we started remembering the good times with Dad, remembering how he loved us and how he would have wanted us to be happy.
“Morgan went to get the picture album and the tears turned to laughter. There would always be sorrow, a certain emptiness for his sudden passage, but we’d always be thankful that God and the Master of Breath had allowed him to be with us for as long as he was. You remember and go on. Family helped.”
“Children need close relationships and assurance.”
“So do adults,” he told her, his gaze direct. “Any friend of Daniel’s is a friend of mine. If you need help with anything, you only have to ask.”
She came upright in her seat, dragging her hand back with her. “I can take care of myself.”
This time he wasn’t going to be sidetracked. “In most things you probably can, but sometimes we run into situations we aren’t equipped to handle.”
“I can take care of myself,” she repeated for her own benefit as much as for his.
“All I’m saying is that I’m here.” He glanced around to see Brandon coming toward them. “Our food is ready.”
Aware that Luke suspected she was hiding something and watched her, Catherine thought she would be too uneasy to eat any of the steak she had ordered. But after one delicious bite of the tender beef, she realized how hungry she was. As she ate, she began to relax. Luke not asking any more probing questions helped. So did the soft muted music. She even let Luke coax her into sampling a tiny bite of his grilled cactus dipped in ramesco sauce. His lips twitched at the distasteful expression on her face.
“It’s an acquired taste.” He was about to take another bite of his filet when the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He looked around. Three women were heading straight for him. His mother was one of them.
Although he knew there was only a thick adobe wall behind him, he found himself looking for an avenue of escape anyway.
“Luke, what is it? What’s the matter?”
“Trouble” was all he was able to say before the women arrived. Slowly he came to his feet and nodded in greeting.
“Luke,” a woman in her early sixties wearing a herring-bone tweed jacket atop a gray cashmere turtleneck and ankle-length black pleated skirt greeted him absently. Her main attention was on Catherine. “Dr. Stewart, it really is you,” she gushed effusively. “I’m Amanda Poole, Women’s League president. I hope you will forgive the intrusion, but when one of the committee members called to tell me that she saw you enter the restaurant with Luke, I simply had to rush right over.”
Smiling, Catherine stood. She truly enjoyed meeting her reading public. “I’m glad you did, Mrs. Poole.”
“Please call me Amanda,” she said, pressing a hand to her breasts. “The lecture series you’re doing on parenting has been one of the most well-received we’ve ever had. The auditorium at St. John’s College is completely sold out.”
“I’m always pleased to hear the attendance is up. It’s all about the children.”
“You’re so right,” Amanda agreed.
“Good evening, Dr. Stewart,” greeted a tall elegant woman. “Luke.”
“Hello, Mama,” Luke said, wondering why she didn’t seemed pleased to be there. He thought she’d be doing back-flips to find him with a woman.
“Oh, forgive me,” Amanda said, flushing to the roots of her red dyed hair. “Dr. Stewart, I’d like to introduce two of the key people of our organization, Ruth Grayson, past president of the Women’s League, and Gloria Harris, the program chairman.”
Catherine’s gaze immediately went to Luke’s mother. Tall, imposing, reserved. As with Brandon, the family resemblance was strong. She remained a striking woman despite having a son in his early thirties. Coal black hair hung down her back in a thick braid. Her trim figure was well-dressed in a textured brown jacket, denim shirt, and brown trousers.
And she acted as if the last place she wanted to be was standing there. Catherine’s disappointment was immense. “I’m pleased to meet you, Mrs. Grayson. Mrs. Harris.”
Pretty, petite, in her mid-twenties, and stylish in a pale lavender pantsuit, Gloria Harris laughed, her ringless left hand combing back her short, auburn hair. “It’s Miss. I’m waiting for the right man to ask me.”
Catherine thought she saw Luke grimace out of the corner of her eyes; she knew she saw his mother’s lips press together tightly in disapproval. At least she wasn’t the only woman his mother deemed unsuitable. “I’m sure it’s only a matter of time.”
“I’m hoping,” Gloria said, her gaze going back to Luke.
“It’s been nice meeting you, but we don’t want to keep you from your dinner,” Ruth Grayson said, grabbing hold of Amanda’s arm. “Goodbye, Luke. Dr. Stewart.”
“Wait, Ruth,” Amanda said, pulling free with a frown that quickly disappeared as she faced Catherine. “I’m sure Dr. Stewart doesn’t mind us taking a little more of her time.”
“Not at all,” Catherine said, trying not to let it bother her that for some reason Luke’s mother didn’t want to be around her. “Would you like to sit down?”
“Yes, thank you,” Gloria said, going to Luke’s seat. He had no choice but to sit back down. She quickly scooted over beside him. Across from them, Amanda was doing the same with Catherine. Ruth gradually sank down in the seat beside the other woman.
“It’s such an honor and a privilege meeting you,” Amanda said. “I can hardly believe you’re actually here.”
“Thank you for saying so, I’m looking forward to presenting the workshop.”
“My grandchildren have all of your books,” Amanda continued. “The youngest, Michelle, is four and won’t go to bed without Mr. Rabbit.”
Gloria had her own testimony. “I’ve bought your books as gifts for my nieces and nephews. I plan to have you autograph a set for the children I hope to have one day. Every child should have the privilege of reading or having your books read to them.” She turned to Luke. “Don’t you think so?”
“I haven’t read her books, but I agree with you that children should read and be read to.”
“I’ll be too old to see them, let alone read to them, by the time you give me any grandchildren,” his mother, arms folded, grumbled.
Luke’s mouth flattened into a thin, straight line.
“I’m sure Luke is just waiting for the right woman, Mrs. Grayson,” Gloria said, seemingly unaware that his body was stiff beside hers. “Luke is going to make a wonderful father, don’t you think, Dr. Stewart?”
Something cold clutched in Catherine’s heart. “I’m sure he will.”
Amanda took a small white card out of her purse and handed it to Catherine. “My number if you need anything. What hotel are you staying in?”
“At a friend’s house,” Luke quickly told them, noting Catherine’s panicked look at him.
“Anyone I know?” asked Gloria, her smile fading as she gazed from Luke to Catherine.
“You might, but Dr. Stewart prefers keeping a low profile,” Luke said.
His mother’s eyes narrowed as she studied her son, then a nervous Dr. Stewart. She stood. “Of course she does. It was nice meeting you. Good night.”
Sending an annoyed glance at Ruth, Amanda nevertheless stood. “Do you need someone to pick you up?”
“No, I have a car,” Catherine said.
“Well then, we’ll see you Tuesday morning at nine thirty in the auditorium of St. John’s College.”
“Good night, Luke.” Gloria clearly hated to leave.
“Did you come together?” Luke asked.
“No, we came in separate cars,” Amanda answered.
“It’s getting da
rk. I’ll better see you to your cars.” He stood. The parking lot was well-lit, but it never hurt to be cautious.
“You don’t have to, Luke,” his mother said in a rush.
He frowned at her strange behavior. “Mama, you know one of us always walks out with you.” He turned to Catherine. “I’ll be back. Make sure you don’t eat the rest of my grilled cactus.”
Up went her eyebrow. “I’ll try to restrain myself.”
IT WAS A GOOD THING GLORIA COULDN’T READ MINDS, Luke thought as he escorted the ladies to their cars. Her senseless chatter was giving him a headache. He was more than happy to open the door to her Lexus and see her on her way. Mrs. Poole’s Infiniti was only a few cars away. “Good night, Mrs. Poole.”
“Good night, Amanda,” Ruth said. “Luke, you better get back inside.”
“Ruth, for someone who worked so hard to get Dr. Stewart here, you’re certainly in a hurry to leave,” Amanda said. “If I didn’t know you better, I’d think you were either sorry you invited her here or wanted to keep her all to your family and yourself.”
Luke tensed. “Mama invited her here?”
“We’ll talk about it later, Amanda,” Ruth said.
Obviously Amanda wanted to talk about it now. “Indirectly,” Mrs. Poole told Luke. “When your mother put Dr. Stewart’s name into submission as the speaker for our annual conference, we didn’t think we had a chance of getting her here. She has credentials a mile long and commands high dollars on the lecture circuit, which she routinely signs over to charities for children. But less than a week after Gloria contacted her, her agent called to accept the invitation.” Amanda’s smile returned.
“Other women’s leagues around the country were green with envy. Ruth was as elated as the rest of us. That’s why I don’t understand this sudden change.” She turned to Ruth. “I wouldn’t have called and told you Gloria and I were going to meet her if I had known you’d act this way.”
Luke stared down at his mother. She refused to meet his gaze.
“I just thought it impolite to disturb her while she was eating,” Ruth defended.
“She didn’t seem to mind,” Amanda said.
“What else could she do? What would you have said in such a situation?” Ruth asked.
“Oh, dear,” Amanda said, obviously distressed. “Luke, do you think we offended her?”
Now his mother was looking at him. He ought to ignore the plea for help in her eyes and let her sink. The thought was gone as quickly as it had come. “In the short time I’ve known Dr. Stewart she’s been gracious and caring, but tonight was the first time she’s eaten all day.”
“Oh, dear,” the older woman repeated. “She probably thinks we’re gauche.”
“She’ll think the truth,” Luke said with one of his rare smiles because Amanda looked so startled. “That you admire her work so much, you couldn’t wait to meet her.”
“You really think so?”
“I’m positive,” he reassured. He genuinely liked the effusive woman, who, despite her husband’s millions, remained down-to-earth and unassuming. “Cath—Dr. Stewart isn’t shy about expressing her opinion. If she hadn’t wanted to talk with you, she wouldn’t have invited you to sit down. But I think Mama was right in rushing you along.”
Amanda looked apologetically at Ruth. “I’m sorry, Ruth. I should have known better.”
“Don’t worry about it, Amanda. Your enthusiasm was genuine and warm,” Ruth said. “Everyone wants to be appreciated for their work. I’m sure Dr. Stewart was pleased.”
Amanda stopped clutching the link chain shoulder strap of her black quilted bag. “I do admire her.”
“That came through beautifully,” Ruth told her. “Now, you better get home. Good night.”
“Good night,” Amanda said and got into her car.
The silver car had barely straightened before Luke’s mother said, “Good night” and hurried away. He let her get to her 4×4, then placed himself in front of the door. “Luke, hadn’t you better get back to Dr. Stewart?”
“Not until I find out how you did it.”
She lifted puzzled eyes to his. “Did what?”
“Worked it so that Catherine would be number twenty-eight.”
CHAPTER SIX
“LUKE, I’VE ASKED YOU NOT TO REFER TO OUR GUESTS in such a demeaning and impersonal manner,” his mother chastised.
“They’re not my guests, they’re yours, and you’re stalling.”
She unnecessarily straightened the collar of his blue oxford shirt. “I have no reason to stall.”
“Then tell me how you did it.”
She let out a weary sigh. “You have such a suspicious mind. I should have never let you read all those mystery novels when you were growing up.”
“Catherine is in the restaurant waiting, and I’m not leaving until I have an answer.”
“You’re also stubborn.”
“I learned from the master.”
Her shoulders slumped in defeat. “The committee needed a speaker. I had seen Dr. Stewart during an interview on an early morning talk show and I thought she’d be perfect.”
“It helped that she was young and single,” Luke said tersely.
“It helped that she was intelligent, a noted child psychologist, and a distinguished author.”
Luke stuck to his argument. “How did you find out the connection to Daniel?”
“She mentioned on the show that she was from Boston and had grown up in an affluent neighborhood. I just took a chance that Felicia might know her.”
“I might have known Aunt Felicia was in on this, too.” He snorted. “Number fifteen was from Boston. Her nose was so high up, if it had rained she would have drowned like a turkey.”
“Luke, that’s enough. Karolyn was a wonderful young lady.”
“I don’t care how wonderful any of them are. This has got to stop, and it stops now.” He leaned closer. “If I get one inkling that there will be a number twenty-nine, I’m moving my office to Phoenix.”
Her black eyes widened in fear and distress. “You’d leave your poor old mother alone?”
“If one of us called you old, you’d brain us. You’re sixty-two and in better shape and healthier than some women half your age. Besides, Morgan and the others would be here if you needed anything.”
“But I’ve always depended on you.”
Luke couldn’t deny that. Since his father had died, Luke had been the man of the house, the leader. She’d discussed everything with him. He’d known about her plans to leave her close-knit family in Oklahoma and teach at St. John’s College in Santa Fe before anyone else knew. The college, as a drawing point to the young music teacher, offered tuition remission for her five children. She hadn’t hesitated. Education was valued. She’d always put her children first.
“I’d come if you called.”
Her palm rested on his chest. “But it wouldn’t be the same.”
He hugged her to him. He couldn’t think of anything else to do. “I’d miss you, too. Why don’t you start on Morgan? He wouldn’t suspect a thing.”
Lifting her head, she smiled. “That’s an idea. But you’ve always been the leader.”
“So you figured if you married me off, the rest would fall in line.”
“Let’s say it wouldn’t be as difficult.”
He groaned. “Mama, it’s not dignified for a grown man to beg, but I’m begging you. Please stop this.”
She brushed his hair back from his face as if he were a little boy. “Don’t I always do what’s best for my children?”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
LUKE ALWAYS THOUGHT THE BEST WAY TO SAY SOMEthing was straight out and up front. As soon as he slid into the booth seat he said, “You’re number twenty-eight!”
“What!” Catherine’s eyes widened. Abruptly she set her drink down. “That’s impossible. Your mother doesn’t even like me. She couldn’t wait to leave.”
“All an act to throw me off. You’re numbe
r twenty-eight, all right.” He continued when the disbelief on her face didn’t disappear. “She got Aunt Felicia to help get you here.”
The swift rise of elation that his mother liked her was quickly drowned out by damning reality. If Luke’s mother really knew about her, Catherine would be the last person she’d choose for her son. The reality made the fantasy that much more painful. Catherine did what she always did when she was cornered. “Well, she can just go out and get number twenty-nine.”
“Number twenty-nine won’t show up until the coast is clear,” Luke said with an irritated twist of his mouth. “One thing about my mother, she always gives the women a clear playing field. Yesterday afternoon I put number twenty-seven on the plane. She probably didn’t expect you until Monday evening.”
Catherine shook her head. “But I don’t understand. How did she expect to get us together?”
Luke shoved his plate aside. “She would have found a way. She’s probably rubbing her hands together in triumph that we’re already together.”
“We aren’t together,” Catherine felt compelled to point out. “We’re having dinner.”
“It’s a good thing she doesn’t know we spent the night together,” he said. “Ouch. You kicked me.”
“I will again if you don’t stop saying that.” Digging in her purse, she pulled out her wallet and laid a twenty and a ten on the table.
Rubbing his shin, he glared across the table at her. “Put your money up. I’ll take care of the bill.”
She stood and pulled on her red jacket. “I’d rather pay for my own.”
Studying her intently, he unhurriedly came to his feet. “Why are you so upset? I’m the one she’s trying to marry off.”
“You figure it out,” she said. “Please take me back to the cabin. I need to find a room.”
“So you’re still set on leaving?”