by Julie Caille
Yet amid the haze, his thoughts gathered, grew sharp and focused. Nothing had changed. Their lives, their needs and goals, were as disparate now as they had ever been. She couldn’t possibly want him. And he shouldn’t want her, either.
She stared wide-eyed when he released her and stepped back. “Damn,” he muttered through gritted teeth. He clenched his hands and repeated the curse, watching the way she winced at the word. Knowing he’d hurt her, he felt a sharp pang of remorse drive deep into his chest, but he said nothing, uttered no apology.
Pain shone in her eyes. “We shouldn’t have done that.” Her voice came out low and husky, trembling with an emotion that could only be regret.
“No,” he agreed flatly.
“We’re both involved with someone else.”
He opened his mouth to ask what she meant, then shut it again before he could make matters worse. She must think he was dating Nancy. Fine. If it would keep her away from him, let her think what she liked.
“Right,” he said. “So let’s forget this happened, okay? I wanted to comfort you and things just got a little out of hand.”
The door at the back of the house opened and closed.
Like a startled fawn, Alicia jumped and ran, her arm grazing his as she hurried away. Luke stayed where he was for another minute, then strolled into the kitchen, where his ears told him someone was refilling the ice bucket.
“There you are.” Nancy shut the freezer door and scrutinized him, one eyebrow cocked. “I was wondering where you’d gone. What’s the matter with Alicia?”
Luke searched his mind for a coherent answer. “She’s a little upset. Uh, about her sister, I mean.”
“Oh, yeah. I guess it takes a long time to get over a shock like that.” Looking solemn, Nancy came over and touched his arm. “You upset, too, Luke, honey? Is there anything I can do?” Her eyes roved over him a little too thoroughly for his comfort and when she added, in an innocent tone, “Anything at all?” he wanted to groan. Obviously his wet bathing trunks hadn’t quite hidden the waning effects of his encounter with Alicia. “Just kidding,” Nancy added. “Hey, I know what you need.”
“What’s that?” he asked her sardonically.
Setting down the ice bucket, she removed several ice cubes and dropped them into a paper cup. With a straight face, she held it out to him. “Here. It’s quicker than a cold shower.”
Luke snatched it from her and gave her a light swat on the behind. “Someday, young lady, you’re going to turn some poor sucker into a raving lunatic.”
“Hmm,” she murmured, looking pleased at the idea. “Just like somebody’s making you crazy, hmm?”
“Nobody’s making me crazy.”
“Right.” She reached for the ice bucket, her smile mocking. “Just keep telling yourself that, sugar. Maybe you’ll start to believe it.”
Chapter Five
“I don’t wanna go to any stinkin’ school.”
Across the top of Ronnie’s head, Alicia’s gaze linked with Luke’s. The class lists had been posted yesterday. Until then, Ronnie had seemed, if not enthusiastic, at least reconciled to the fact that he would soon be starting first grade.
Alicia slipped an arm around Ronnie and gave him a reassuring squeeze. “Just because Brian’s not in your class doesn’t mean you won’t see him. And it doesn’t mean you won’t have fun, either. You’ll make lots of new friends.”
“No, I won’t.” Ronnie’s lower lip thrust out.
Luke put a hand on Ronnie’s knee. “Your aunt’s right,” he said gruffly. “So let’s go on in.”
Together they urged the child out of the truck and across the parking lot toward the entrance to Brown Elementary. Ronnie dragged his feet, his head tucked low, while Luke carried Ronnie’s backpack—jammed full with the requisite school supplies—slung over his shoulder.
Alicia followed, a small frown furrowing her brow. If it was this difficult for Ronnie to go to Brown, how much harder would it be for him to go back with her to Boston? The timing was incredibly bad. If only the Texas schools didn’t start so early, if only she had an established emotional relationship with her nephew. But she didn’t, and even if Ronnie grew attached to her, would he be willing to change schools? By then he would be accustomed to his teacher. He would have made new friends, established a routine. Yet the alternative was to force a decision now, and that just didn’t seem right.
For some reason, Alicia had expected to be able to walk Ronnie straight to his classroom, but instead they were directed to the cafeteria, where the children were sorted according to grade level and teacher. At first glance, pandemonium seemed to reign inside the large room, but it soon became apparent that the system worked.
Nine boys and girls were already queued behind the sign reading Grade 1, Mrs. Glover, lunch boxes and backpacks strewn around them. Alicia led Ronnie to the end of the line behind a little brown-haired girl with a French braid.
“I guess you’ve got to sit here, sweetie.”
The girl swiveled around to stare at Ronnie. “Where’s your name tag?” she demanded.
Ronnie eyed her with hostility.
“Where does he get it?” Alicia asked quickly, noting that the girl wore one pinned to the front of her dress. It proclaimed her name as Tara.
“From the teacher. She’s the lady next to my mom.” Tara pointed at a short, plump woman in a lavender shirtdress. She had tight silver curls and gold-rimmed glasses, and at the moment was immersed in conversation with a slim brunette in a white tennis skirt.
“That’s Mrs. Glover?”
“Yep.”
Alicia glanced at Luke. “Do you want to talk to her?”
Luke nodded and set down Ronnie’s backpack.
They made their way over to the teacher, dodging little feet and bodies as they went. The woman in the tennis skirt blew Tara a kiss and gave Luke an appraising look before she walked away, her hips swaying just a wee bit more than necessary.
“Hello.” Mrs. Glover blinked owlishly at them.
Luke shook her hand and introduced himself, adding that he and Alicia were Ronnie’s aunt and uncle.
Mrs. Glover shuffled through a stack of colorful name tags until she found Ronnie’s. “Oh, dear, I do wish the parents could have been here. The first day is so important.”
“Ronnie lost his parents in an air crash,” Alicia said. “Three weeks ago.”
“My Lord, the poor angel.” One plump hand pressed to her heart, she peered past them at the line of children. “Which one is he?”
“Blond hair, red shirt,” Luke indicated. “I think you should know he wasn’t too crazy about coming here today.”
“His best friend is in a different class,” Alicia added, “so that’s made it even harder. You might want to call if any problems develop.” She held out a slip of paper with Luke’s home and work number written on it.
The teacher tucked it into her pocket and patted Alicia’s arm. “I know you and your husband are worried, Mrs. Garrick, but I promise I’ll take good care of him.”
“Oh, I’m not—” Alicia stopped and flushed. “I mean, I’m not Mrs. Garrick. We’re not married.”
Mrs. Glover’s brows arched very high. “Oh?”
“We’re just living together,” Luke said flippantly.
Alicia frowned at him. “His brother was married to my sister,” she explained. “I’m only visiting.”
“Oh, I see.” Mrs. Glover’s brows resumed their proper position, though she still looked a little doubtful. “So Ronnie will be residing with you, Mr. Garrick?”
“That’s the plan for now.”
“The arrangement may change,” Alicia added.
The teacher adjusted her glasses, her eyes shifting back and forth between the two of them with an air of faint disapproval. “Well, I trust that at least one of you is willing to provide this child with a home.”
Luke’s gaze slid over to Alicia. “Yeah,” he agreed. “One of us will.”
* * *
Haunted by the memory of Ronnie’s pale face and wretched expression, Alicia walked back to the truck in silence. He hadn’t let her kiss him goodbye. He hadn’t responded to her hug. Instead he’d stared over her shoulder at Luke, as though Luke was the only one who mattered.
As Luke inserted the key into the ignition, she looked over at him. “You didn’t hug Ronnie,” she said accusingly.
Luke didn’t glance at her as he started the engine. “He didn’t want me to.”
“Are you so sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure. He was trying to make me feel guilty for sending him to school, that’s all.”
“That’s all?” she echoed. “What about the pain he’s feeling? He had that nightmare again last night, didn’t he?”
“Yes.” Luke didn’t speak again until he’d negotiated his way out of the busy parking lot. “He’ll get over it, Alicia.”
“You act like you don’t care about him.”
Luke pulled the truck into a side street so fast her heart got a shot of adrenaline. Shifting into Park, he angled his body toward her, his face dark with forbidding anger. “You don’t understand anything, do you? You come down here all self-righteous and start making pronouncements—”
“Damn it, Luke, I’m just concerned!”
He stared at her for a long moment, then drew in a harsh breath. “I know that. But don’t start analyzing me, Alicia. I know Ronnie pretty darn well. He’s spent a lot of time with me the past couple of years. A lot of time,” he repeated with emphasis.
Suddenly his words sank in. “What do you mean?”
“You don’t know?”
She shook her head. “I know Caroline sometimes worked on the weekends—”
“She and Richard worked every weekend. All day long and into the night. Ronnie hardly ever saw either of them.”
Disbelief washed through her. “Are you saying my sister neglected her child?”
He turned his head to gaze out over the steering wheel, his mouth hard, his profile boldly defined against the clear morning sky. “I don’t know. I guess she thought it was worth it. But she and Richard were all caught up in this success thing.”
“There’s nothing wrong with wanting to be successful. Even you play that game, Luke.”
“But not,” he said, “at the expense of my kid.”
Emotion clutched at Alicia’s insides, twisting until all she could feel was pain. “You don’t understand Caroline. I can’t believe she would have been anything but a dedicated mother. Caroline was—” she struggled for words “—amazing. She could do anything, literally. My mother used to say I should try to be more like her.”
Luke’s lip curled. “Your mother was talking a lot of bull. Look, I’ve got to get to work.”
They drove in silence, and as the minutes passed, Alicia felt more and more confused. How could Luke say such things? The fact that Caroline had gone to the trouble of bringing Ronnie to Luke showed how conscientious she was. She could have hired a nanny instead of making the long drive from her home in West University to Luke’s part of town. Surely that demonstrated that Caroline had cared. After all, hadn’t Caroline entrusted her most precious possession—her child—to no one but her brother-in-law, a family member? No fault could be found in such an action, could it?
When they arrived back at Luke’s house, he drove into the garage and handed her the keys. “You’re sure you can handle the truck?”
“I’m sure,” she answered coolly. They had agreed that he would take the van and leave her the Silverado so she could pick up Ronnie from school.
“You remember how to drive a standard transmission?”
“More or less.” Of course she remembered. He was the one who had taught her.
“Maybe I’d better go over it with you just in case.”
“That won’t be necessary.” Alicia opened the door and stepped out, and after a moment, Luke did the same.
“So.” He altered the tilt of his hat, his gray eyes watchful. “You’ll be okay on your own?”
“I’ve been on my own for quite a while now,” she said tartly. “I can take care of myself.”
“Yeah.” His eyes swept over her, not in the appreciative way he had studied her at the cookout, but in an overt, assessing way nevertheless. “I’ll call you later.”
Without another word, he strode toward the van, his easy masculine gait sexy enough to draw any woman’s eye. Even when she was still upset, Alicia found she was not immune to his virile magnetism. Her eyes trailed after him, unconsciously admiring his physique until she realized what she was doing. Then she hurried to unlock the front door, determined not to stand and watch him drive away as though powerless to resist catching a last glimpse of him. As he backed the van down the driveway, she went inside and gave a sigh of relief. She looked around, and then the queer feeling hit.
She was alone in Luke’s house.
Luke’s home.
How many times had she tried to imagine this place? Dozens, perhaps hundreds. She had tried to connect with him across the miles, tried to envision what it would have been like to share his life. But never once had she imagined a place as warm and homey and inviting as this. He had created this place on his own. He had gone on without her, probably without a backward glance.
Canine toenails tapped across the hardwood floor and a moist nose prodded her hand, distracting her from this thought. Alicia looked down and smiled.
Not quite alone after all.
“Hello, Daffodil.” She stroked the collie’s head, then on impulse knelt down and wrapped her arms around the animal’s body. Accommodating and patient, Daffy sat on her haunches while Alicia took comfort from their closeness. “Pets are supposed to be great stress relievers,” she murmured. “So how about it? Can you do for me what you do for Ronnie?”
As if in answer Daffy started to lick Alicia’s face.
Alicia allowed this to continue for almost a minute before she pushed the dog away with a laugh. “Okay, that’s enough. Thanks, I feel better. Whoa, girl!” Daffy’s licking subsided, but her soulful brown eyes continued to regard Alicia with gentle puzzlement. Touched, Alicia rubbed her cheek against the soft, shorn fur of the collie’s neck. “You’re so beautiful,” she whispered. “I wish you were mine.”
In the mood for music, she headed for the living room, where Luke kept a CD and tape player in a low, built-in cupboard. She bent to examine the collection of compact discs stored there and discovered, to her delight, that Luke’s taste had expanded over the years. In the old days, rock and roll had been all he’d listened to, but now an array of classical selections stretched along the upper shelf. In addition, a large number of books on tape occupied space on a second shelf, a variety that ranged from literary classics to modern popular fiction.
After a brief debate, she chose Vivaldi’s The Four Seasons, then went to make a cup of tea. By the time the caffeine had wrought its magic, the rich dramatic strains of “Summer,” filled her ears. Filled her soul, too, with tendrils of longing so intense it made her ache. Good music always did that to her, made her feel things that at other times she kept buried. Her chin on her hand, she wondered if Luke ever felt this way—lost and lonely and afraid, waiting and yearning for a completion that bore no name. A completion that might never come.
She finished her drink and set down the mug, her fingers stiff and tight on the handle. Then, in an abrupt movement, she released it and jumped up. Enough brooding. It was time to do something constructive.
She headed for Ronnie’s room, taking the stairs with such energy that Daffy leapt to her feet with a bark. Outside Ronnie’s room, Alicia stopped. To her left, down the hall, Luke’s room beckoned. Its pull wrapped around her like an invisible arm. Slowly, as if in a hypnotic trance, she turned and looked. His door was ajar.
Her pulse quickened. This was crazy. She’d already been in there, seen the bed, the furniture, the photograph.
The photograph.
That was what called to her. The woman
with the violet-blue eyes.
Alicia glanced around as if to assure herself that no one would see. Then she walked down the hall and pushed open the door.
Except for a few scattered items of apparel, the room looked the same. Luke’s cutoffs hung on the closet doorknob, a T-shirt fell carelessly across a wooden chair.
Guilt trickled through her, but she ignored it. The picture was still there, still positioned so it could be viewed from the bed. Without thinking, she raised a hand to pick it up, then froze in midair. Touching was far more invasive than looking. She would not touch.
Her hand fell limply to her side, but her eyes stayed pinned to the woman’s face. Those bewitching eyes, fringed by their long black lashes, seemed to stare back as though equally entranced by Alicia. The mouth curved up in a tantalizing smile, the kind of smile a woman might give to her lover. And Vivaldi’s music played on in the distance, muffled but audible, winding its way around corners to embrace her soul with its majesty.
A message had been scrawled across the bottom right corner of the photo. To Luke with love. Christina.
* * *
Alicia cleaned and sorted and organized things in Ronnie’s room until midmorning, when the phone rang. There were two telephones in the house—one on the table next to Luke’s bed, the other in the kitchen. Unwilling to reenter Luke’s room, she raced downstairs and grabbed the receiver on the fourth ring.
“Hello,” she said breathlessly, half-expecting the caller to be Ronnie’s teacher.
“Alicia, it’s me. I’m calling from the hospital.”
“Luke, what happened?” Her heart skipped a beat as visions of accidents streaked through her head. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. It’s Joey.”
Her heartbeat returned to normal. Thank God. Nothing had happened to Luke. With a mental shake, she forced herself to pay attention to what he was saying.
“...started feeling lousy as soon as he got to work. Nausea and cold sweats, a tingling in his right arm. They’ve got him plugged into a bunch of monitors over here in the chest pain observation unit.”