Magnolia Sky

by Susan Crandall

  “It was all so . . . so exciting and unpredictable and romantic. I did love him—with everything in me. He made me feel so alive.”

  Luke forced himself not to pull away from those words. Jealousy nipped at his heart. She’d loved Calvin—and he in turn had given that love no more respect than he would gum stuck to the bottom of a barroom table. In that moment, Luke realized he wanted more with this woman. More than a few weeks of passing acquaintance. But he would never, never use Calvin’s infidelities to influence her, to change the purity of her love for her dead husband.

  “There were only three months left on Calvin’s term of service. Having nowhere else to go, he brought me here, to Olivia.” She smiled at him, then bit her lip almost shyly. “She’s the only mother I’ve ever known. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her—nothing.” There was a clear message, a certain vehemence in that last statement.

  Luke said, “She is quite a woman.” In the few days he’d been here, he could easily see why the community respected her, why Analise loved her.

  Analise blew out a long breath. “Calvin never actually said he wasn’t going to re-up when his term was over.” Her voice had calmed, quieted. Now her words were tinged with disillusionment and regret. “But when we talked about our plans for the future, he never mentioned he was considering it, either. He let me think what I wanted to think. So, just when I was preparing to finally become the wife I’d wanted to be, Calvin called from a bar, drunk as a skunk, telling me he was celebrating his reenlistment—he’d been accepted into the Rangers. Simple as that, no ‘family discussion,’ no ‘Hey, honey, what do you think?’ It was done.”

  “I see.” And he did. He saw very clearly. And if Calvin had still been alive, Luke would have kicked his ass up between his shoulder blades. But aloud he said, “Being an army wife is tough.”

  She gave a sad chuckle, shaking her head. “I wouldn’t have minded being an army wife—if I’d been treated like a wife. Calvin always had a reason for me to stay here, not move near the base where he was stationed—he was going to be transferred soon, he was deployed for long stretches at a time, the housing around the base stunk. There was always something to prevent me from joining him. After a while, I surrendered. It was clear his life with me would never intersect with his army life.”

  “It’s hard for a lot of men, with the work Rangers do. Sometimes they just have to keep their family life totally separate.” Luke said the words with as much conviction as he could muster. It was the truth, although he doubted that had been Calvin’s motivation. Still, it might give Analise a bit of peace with the way things were.

  This time Analise’s laugh was brittle with disillusionment. “Olivia thinks we still loved each other. . . . I carried on with the pretense of regular letters and imaginary phone calls long after the real ones ceased to be. . . . I thought I could go on forever. . . .”

  She didn’t say more. Instead of talking, she nestled her head against his shoulder and sat quietly for a long time. Her fingers slipped between his, entwining them in a way that hinted at more than friendly comfort.

  Luke drew in the scent of her hair, which tonight was loose and down her back, making her look so youthful it pinched his heart. She was too young to have borne such tragedy. He wanted to do more than hold her hand—and that thought made his shame soar high once again. He was trying to justify his interest in Calvin’s widow, because Calvin hadn’t lived up to his marriage vows. That line of thinking was no more than cheap, juvenile rationalization.

  Earlier he’d been lecturing Cole about standing up for what’s right, stepping up and being a man for those who count on you. And here he was, a man of honor, wondering if there would come a moment when Analise might cast that green gaze his way and have it be filled with the same adoration she’d given Calvin—her husband, Luke’s fellow soldier. The duplicity of it made him sick.

  After a bit, she stirred, lifting her face. The hand that wasn’t entwined with his cupped his cheek. “Thank you.” Her lips brushed his other cheek.

  She lingered there, so close he felt her breath against his skin, warm against the night’s chill. That warmth penetrated much deeper than it should have, straight to that tiny part of him that was still able to feel good about himself. A part that he didn’t know still existed. God, he wanted to kiss her, to tell her she was a treasure, to wrap himself around her, to take away the pain. He knew he shouldn’t, but the temptation was strong. It came in waves, weakening his resolve to do the right thing.

  In the end, the choice was taken away from him. She tilted her head, sliding those warm lips over his.

  All thoughts of honor and guilt and responsibility evaporated with the sweetness of her kiss. Against his better judgment, Luke slid a hand into her hair, pulling her closer. Even so, there was a fragility to their connection, a tentativeness in the kiss.

  The moment stretched far beyond the moment when he expected her to pull away. They remained there, in that limbo where passion hadn’t taken over all good sense and purity outweighed desire.

  The loud snap of a broken branch underfoot brought Luke instantly to his feet.

  Something rustled as it retreated in the woods.

  “What?” Analise apparently hadn’t heard.

  “Someone’s out there.” He started toward the spot where he’d heard the sound. Then he paused, listening intently. He couldn’t detect anything beyond the normal night noises.

  Analise moved behind him, pressing herself against his back. “Roy?” The name rode out on whispering breath.

  Luke turned and put his hands on her shoulders. “Don’t know. Maybe it was just an animal. Let’s get you back to the house.” He turned her around and walked back to the house with his arm around her shoulder.

  Just before they reached the light that radiated from the windows, she took a side step, separating their bodies.

  She said, “I’m sure Roy’s gone now. I haven’t heard that anyone has seen him. It had to be an animal.”

  Luke cast one last glance over his shoulder. “Probably.”

  They climbed the back steps and went into the kitchen. He started shutting off lights. “You go on up. I’m going to stay down here for a bit.”

  He followed her to the stairway, turning off lamps on the way.

  “You’re staying down here in the dark?”

  “Just want to watch outside awhile. Don’t need any more broken windows.”

  She hesitated, looking like she wanted to argue, but turned and climbed the stairs. “Good night.” She paused and looked over her shoulder at him. “And thank you.”

  Luke watched her go up the stairs and listened for the closing of her bedroom door. Then he prowled from dark window to dark window for nearly an hour, watching for movement in the night. After that he went out and stood on the front porch for twenty minutes, straining to hear anything untoward over the racket of night creatures. He scanned the darkness with well-adjusted eyes, listened with well-trained ears. Finally, satisfied that if it had been Roy, the man was gone, he returned to the house and locked the front door behind him.

  Luke was physically exhausted. The labors of the day had taxed him more than he’d let anyone know. He needed a painkiller and some sleep if he was going to be able to function tomorrow. Painkillers were in plentiful supply, as he took them far less often than prescribed. The sleep, however, was another story. How would he ever manage to fall asleep with the taste of Analise still unfulfilled on his lips? Was that kiss the result of the vulnerability brought about by her emotional state—or was there something deeper?

  Come on, Boudreau, you’re not a thirteen-year-old getting your first kiss.

  No, and he wasn’t in a position to take this further in any case. Analise was a new widow; Olivia, whose roof they both slept under, was her mother-in-law. No way could a relationship come of this.

  Just let it go.

  He repeated that to himself for twenty minutes while he paced the bedroom in the dark. As he passed the wind
ow, movement outside caught his eye. He stepped closer and pushed the tied-back curtain aside. Rolling into the driveway with only its parking lights on was a county sheriff’s car. Apparently Deputy Dave was making good on his promise to keep watch. Although it should be giving Luke comfort to know someone else was helping to look out for those at Magnolia Mile, the whole idea chafed. Maybe, in his effort to make up for taking Calvin from them, Luke was getting too possessive of this family. Why else would Dave’s presence out there bother him?

  After idling for a minute or so, Dave backed slowly out of the drive. He didn’t turn on his headlights until he reached the road.

  Luke finally stripped off his clothes and crawled into bed. The painkillers he’d taken a half-hour before were kicking in, giving him a slight buzz. Which was exactly why he rarely took them. He hated the lack of sharp-witted control. But tonight common sense won out over bullheadedness. There was too much pain in his body, too many emotions in his heart, too much worry in his mind. If he showed the slightest physical effect from today’s work, Olivia wouldn’t stand for him to lift a finger around here again.

  Falling into a doze, the image of long, lanky Dave, wearing his aviator sunglasses, staring out the door of the Pure station, kept popping into Luke’s mind. As he slipped deeper into sleep, he dreamed Analise was dancing with Dave at the Boxcar. Suddenly he changed from human into a giant praying mantis. That huge bug turned Analise on the dance floor with flair—then he swallowed her whole.

  Luke rushed to her, but it was too late—just as it had been too late for Calvin. People gathered around, yelling at him, pointing accusing fingers. They chanted, “You could have saved her,” over and over. The Boxcar spun wildly around him, blurring the faces of those condemning him until he fell into complete darkness.

  He was so soundly in drug-induced sleep that he didn’t hear anything until Analise shook him roughly.

  “Wake up!”

  Why was she shouting?

  “Luke! Wake up!”

  He forced his heavy eyelids open. It was still dark. God, he never should have taken those painkillers. “I’m awake.” The words came out raspy. “What’s wrong?” He’d already started to move, his legs were over the side of the bed.

  She was hurrying around the room, grabbing the clothes he’d taken off and tossing them at him. “Get dressed. Cole’s been in an accident.”

  Chapter 10

  By the time Luke had his jeans pulled on, his mind was fully functioning. “Was Cole driving?”

  “Jeep’s gone—he must have been. Dave came to get Olivia. He didn’t have too many details out before he and Olivia shot out the door.” Analise twitched impatiently as she watched him grab his tennis shoes. “Put them on in the car. I’ll drive.” She started downstairs.

  He forced his bare feet into the shoes as he hopped along after her, laces flopping against the hardwood floor. “I’ll drive.” He passed her in the kitchen and walked out the door first.

  Once in his car he asked, “Are we headed to the hospital?”

  “Oh, my gosh! I forgot to ask. I guess so. Go to the square and turn north on Center.”

  He put the car in gear, swung it around and started out the drive. “Seat belt.”

  She gave him a frustrated look.

  “We won’t get there any faster with it off.”

  She put it on.

  Once out of the lane, Luke pushed his car as fast as he safely could. Analise fidgeted and leaned forward in her seat, as if that would make them go faster.

  They didn’t make it to town. Just after a sweeping curve on the main road they saw flashing lights—lots of them.

  “Oh, my God.” The words weren’t much more than a rush of air between Analise’s lips.

  “It always looks worse than it is; they have twice the rescue vehicles needed.” He sure hoped that was the case, because there were two ambulances, three police cars and a fire truck on the scene, and Luke heard another siren on the way.

  “Stop! Maybe Cole’s still here.” Panic crept into Analise’s voice.

  Luke was already pulling the Taurus into the grass beside the road, just short of the emergency vehicles. Analise was out before he got the gearshift into park. He thought she was going to run headlong into the middle of things, so he jumped out of the car as fast as he could. When he reached the front bumper, he saw she was still by the passenger door, bent over with her hands braced on her knees, throwing up.

  He stepped close and put an arm around her waist and a hand on her back. He didn’t say anything; there wasn’t anything that would be more than empty assurances.

  As soon as she could move, she did—straight for the ambulances. Luke held her hand tightly as they trotted nearer to the activity.

  Analise stopped suddenly and stifled a horrified sob with her hand. Luke saw the Jeep at the same time. It was a good thirty feet from the road, illuminated as bright as day by emergency lights. It lay on its side and looked as if a giant had taken hold of both bumpers and twisted in opposite directions. The mangled steel appeared as if it had given no more resistance to the pressure than an aluminum soda can.

  Analise started to run toward the wreckage, but Luke grabbed her from behind, wrapping both arms around her and lifting her feet off the ground. She kept her legs pumping, kicking his shins and struggling to break free.

  “Stop! Analise, stop! He’s not there!” Luke yelled.

  She slowed her fight for freedom.

  More quietly Luke said, “There aren’t any rescuers by his car. He’s not there.”

  “Where is he?” She began to look wildly around.

  “We’ll find him. Try to calm down.”

  Luke scanned the area. He didn’t see Dave or Olivia anywhere. The two ambulances both sat empty with their back doors open. Neither one had a paramedic within fifteen feet. He then looked beyond the fire truck and saw another vehicle. It was blasted with the same white light as the Jeep. But this car was wrapped around a tree and crawling with firemen and medics.

  The firemen revved up a saw. At the sound, Analise’s head snapped in that direction. “Dear God.”

  Luke felt the strength go out of her. He kept her wrapped in his arms.

  The blade threw blue-white sparks and screamed as it cut through the metal. Watching the crew work with that powerful tool to free the passengers was both awe-inspiring and sickening at the same moment. How could someone be left whole in that twisted mess?

  Finally, a deputy sheriff noticed them and hurried closer. He had to shout over the whine and shriek of the saw. “Cole already went to the hospital. Dave and Olivia, too.”

  “How bad?” Analise asked.

  Luke loosened his hold, but kept his arms around her.

  The deputy said, “He was unconscious when the EMS pulled out. He was thrown from the car.”

  A little cry escaped Ana’s throat. “The others?”

  “Won’t know until we get them out. Looks like the Benson boy’s car, but we can’t confirm who’s inside yet. May only be the driver.”

  Luke’s own stomach twisted. It was every bit as bad as it appeared from a distance; they couldn’t even tell how many passengers were trapped inside.

  Turning Analise away from the wreckage, he said, “Let’s get to the hospital.” He walked her back to his car with his arm around her shoulder. She was shaking and breathing too fast, silent tears trailing on her cheeks. Her burst of adrenaline had run out.

  After he put her in the passenger seat and closed the door, he looked across the road and saw a pickup truck not fifteen feet away, parked in the grass on the other side. As focused as he was on the accident scene when they drove up, he hadn’t even noticed it.

  Sitting on the open tailgate was a gray-haired woman wrapped in a blanket. Luke hurried across the pavement.

  “You all right, ma’am?” he asked.

  She blinked a couple of times. “Yes.” Her gaze shifted back to the accident. “There wasn’t anything I could do.” Her chin started to t
remble. “This is just awful . . . just terrible.”

  “What happened?”

  She pointed to the curve. “I was coming around there. The little car, it was in my lane. I swerved. He swerved the other way and hit the other car. They both went flying. . . .” Her hand demonstrated the tumbling flight the cars had taken from the road.

  “Is someone coming to take you home?” He wanted to get moving, but he couldn’t just leave the poor woman like this.

  She nodded. “My husband.”

  He patted her shoulder, then ran back to his car.

  “What did she say?” Analise asked as he got in.

  Luke started the car and pulled back onto the road. “Sounds like they were racing. She came around the curve and one of them was in her lane.”

  “Racing? Why? What was Cole doing out? He was supposed to be in bed. . . .”

  Luke knew she didn’t really want to hear the answers to those questions, so he kept silent and drove to the hospital as quickly as he could.

  When they entered the emergency room, Luke saw Olivia sitting on an orange vinyl couch, dressed in a nightshirt and slippers, twisting a tissue in her hands. Her spiky hair was flattened on one side from sleeping. Her eyes looked overlarge in her face. She looked even smaller than she had the first day Luke had seen her in that oversized sweater. Dave sat beside her, his arm draped comfortingly around her shoulders.

  The second Olivia saw them, she jumped up and hurried to Analise. “We don’t know anything yet.”

  Analise threw her arms around Olivia. They stood there for a few moments, rocking slightly side to side, drawing strength from one another. The sight made Luke ache for his own family. Suddenly he realized he wanted to be a part of this family, too, to give these women comfort, to be with them as they faced whatever news came from behind those emergency room doors. He prayed he would be given the opportunity to help Cole find his way to adulthood.

  Let him be all right.

  Dave slipped silently up behind Olivia and put a hand on her shoulder. He looked over the women and said to Luke, “I’ll stay with them. It might be a long while before we know anything.”