She walked toward the seclusion of the creek that ran though the park. By the time she’d begun to walk down the slope, he’d caught up with her.
“What’s going on?” he asked immediately.
When she reached the water’s edge, she turned to face him. She drew a breath. “I want you to leave.”
“Seems to be a recurring theme around here.”
She tilted her head in question.
“Cole said the same thing,” he said.
She started to ask when, but decided not to let him get her off track. “Today. I want you to go today—now.”
He raised a brow, but otherwise kept his emotions hidden. “We aren’t going to be done with this job today.”
“I know. I’ll manage. With you here . . . I just can’t take all of this extra tension right now. I need to focus on my family.”
“The penalties—”
“Aren’t your concern.”
“Oh, we’re back to that again, are we? Cole’s not my concern. Olivia’s not my concern. You’re not my concern.”
“That’s right.” She hardened her voice and her resolve.
“Well, I’ve got news for you. Sending me away won’t stop my concern. I care about you!” He reached for her, but she stepped away.
She looked away from the hurt in his eyes. “Luke, there never was a future for us. We had stolen time. I can never really be with you.”
“I know you’re concerned about what Olivia thinks—”
“No. It’s much more complicated than that.”
When he just stood there staring at her, she was forced to tell him the truth. She steeled herself and said, “I can’t be with you. You came because Calvin died—”
He started to say something, but she cut him off. “For years I’ve had a horrible, horrible thought: it would just be so much easier if Calvin never came home. Then I could have this family free and clear. So you see, we—you and I—can never be.”
She was shaking, and her breath threatened to fail her, but she had to make him see. He thought she was a good woman, a wronged wife. But she was a terrible person. “I wished Calvin dead!” Her heart raced and her mouth went dry. She could hardly believe she’d finally said it out loud.
He put a hand on her. She jerked away. “Don’t! You’re here because of that death. Every time we make love, I compare my feelings for you against those I had for Calvin. And God help me, what I feel for you is far deeper. It’s as if I wished him away, and that wish brought you to me—I traded his life for my happiness. I can’t spend the rest of my life like that.” She paused and looked away. “Please, just go.”
He stood there for a long moment, then said, “Look at me.”
She forced herself to look him in the eye. He was angry. He saw the true woman she was. She nearly wavered, nearly begged his forgiveness. But it was better this way. Now he would leave and never want to come back. Cole needed his mother—at least for a few more years. And if she could give him those years, she’d do it.
“Ana—”
She couldn’t read his eyes. She saw anger, but there was more, something else that she couldn’t define. And she realized she shouldn’t let herself try. “Just go.”
Then he took a half-step away and said, “Just to clear your conscience, your wish didn’t kill Calvin.” His face looked stony. “I did.”
She stood blinking, her mind in complete upheaval, as he turned around and walked back up the hill and disappeared from view. She wanted to race after him, demand he explain. But she’d achieved her goal; he was leaving. She couldn’t risk talking to him anymore.
“I just can’t understand why he would leave like this,” Olivia said as she sat with Analise as she ate dinner. Olivia and Cole had eaten at the regular dinner hour, but Analise had worked in the park until it had grown too dark to see. “He came up with some cock-and-bull story about a family emergency. A little hard to argue with that.”
Ana’s head was splitting. All afternoon Luke’s words had clashed and clanged around in her mind. What in the hell did he mean, he killed Calvin? The scene from the movie Platoon, in which Tom Berenger shot fellow soldier Willem Dafoe in the back while on a mission in a Vietnam jungle kept playing in her mind. Of course, that couldn’t be what Luke had meant. Calvin died in a helicopter accident. Had Luke somehow caused the crash? She wanted to stop thinking of it, but the questions just kept popping like water splattered into hot oil.
She didn’t try to discount Olivia’s assessment that Luke’s excuse was fabricated; that would be too obvious. Liv could always see through lies. If she even so much as suspected Analise had sent him away so she could try to get her into treatment, that would be the end of any possibility. So Ana simply said, “We really imposed on him too long, Liv. He has a life, too, you know.”
She waved a hand in the air. “Yes. Yes. But this was so . . . sudden. How are we going to make that deadline now?”
Analise rubbed her temples. “We’ll manage. I’ve asked Cole to recruit anyone from school that wants to earn some extra bucks for this weekend.”
“But Cole has a soccer tournament on Saturday.”
“I know. But all of his friends don’t play soccer.”
“I’ll come and help.”
“You need to go to the soccer game; it’s especially important to Cole now. Maybe Reverend Hammond can watch the shop for you during the game, that way I can stay on the job site.”
“I’m sure Richard will be glad to help for a couple of hours.”
“You’ll call him, then?” Analise got up from the table and put her dishes in the dishwasher.
“Yes. Tomorrow.”
Analise walked behind the chair in which Olivia sat and wrapped her arms around her. “I love you, Liv.”
Olivia patted her arm. “I know, Ana. It’s been you and me for a long time.”
“How are you feeling?” Analise felt Olivia stiffen slightly at the question, as if bracing herself for another round of argument.
“I really feel good. I’m sure the steroids are helping—I might even take up weight lifting.”
Analise kissed the top of her head and straightened up. “Let’s not get carried away. I don’t want you looking like one of those female bodybuilders.”
Olivia didn’t turn around, but bent her arms in a typical muscle-flexing pose. “Don’t think I’ve got it?”
Chuckling, glad to reopen the lines of communication with their old casual humor, Analise said, “Oh, I think you’ve got it. I just don’t want you hitting the road, doing the competition circuit. Who would make lunch around here?”
Then she headed out of the kitchen. “I’ve got to get a shower. I don’t know how you’ve stood to be near me.”
Olivia’s voice followed her into the hall. “You don’t smell any worse than Rufus.”
“Oh, thanks.”
Tomorrow would be soon enough to begin her campaign for treatment. Both she and Olivia needed some time to get their feet back under them. Then she’d make Olivia see.
Analise managed to ignore the cold hole that had developed in the center of her chest until she got into bed. Then she curled on her side and mourned the loss of a man she’d tricked herself into thinking she knew. His parting words had knocked the breath out of her. Had she been as wrong about Luke as she’d been about Calvin? No matter how she played the different possibilities in her mind, she could not make Luke a killer. What in God’s name had happened?
Luke didn’t for a second think that Olivia believed his story about a family emergency in Indiana. But it really didn’t matter. He was out of their lives one way or the other—the excuse was inconsequential. He’d left a note for Cole in the boy’s room; he didn’t want to just sneak off without a word, especially since they’d not been on very good terms of late.
He’d considered leaving Ana a note, too. But there was really nothing left to say. Obviously she would never be able to see him without tangling her feelings for him with those she had for Calvin�
�both the good and the bad. He really hoped that someday she would find someone to love, who could love her back in the way she deserved, someone who didn’t dredge up miscast wishes and regret.
He’d been very tempted to sit Olivia down and unload the whole truth. She deserved to know her son died risking his life to save another—not in some act of mischance, a mechanical failure that caused his helicopter to crash. Calvin was a hero. Olivia should know. She should know he’d earned the same Purple Heart as his father, even though politics prevented him from receiving it.
In the end, he’d chickened out. To admit the entire story to her now would make his time here a lie. And he could easily see, lies were a near-mortal sin to Olivia. He just couldn’t face the look in her eye when he admitted the truth of Calvin’s death—but even worse, the fact that he’d stayed, living a lie, here at Magnolia Mile.
On his way out of town, he stopped at the Pure station for gas. After he filled the tank, he went inside to pay. Opal, Olivia’s distant cousin, was at her regular post.
“Hello, young man,” she said as she smiled around the cigarette hanging out of her mouth.
“This is good-bye, Opal. I’m heading out of town.”
She cocked her head, looking like a hamster Luke had when he was six, all big eyes and innocence. “Say it ain’t so. We were just getting used to seeing you around here.”
He nodded. “Family emergency.”
“So you’ll be coming back, then?” The tone in her voice sounded as if she really wanted him to, that she wasn’t just saying it to be polite. “We need more young men like you in this town. So many just don’t come back after college. Guess we’re just too boring for young folk.”
“No, don’t imagine I’ll be back.” Before she could ask any more questions, he said, “Do you have a phone book back there? I need to look something up.”
“Sure.” She reached under the counter and handed the book over. Then she rang up his sale. “Here’s a scrap of paper if you need to make a note.” She shoved a strip of blank register tape his way.
He scribbled down the number and closed the book. “Thanks.” After paying for his gas, he nodded and said, “You take care, now.”
As he walked out the door, she called, “You do the same.” It hit him then, how much at home he’d begun to feel in this town. He was going to miss it.
You have your own town to go to, Analise’s voice said in his head.
Yep, he did. But what if he couldn’t find a place to fit there, either? He just couldn’t bring himself to face another disappointment right now. Instead of heading north out of town, Luke took the highway west.
Cole slipped into the house unnoticed by his mother, who was working in the carriage house. He knew he needed to talk to her, but he just wanted a little time alone first. He went into his room and closed the door. For some reason, the room looked different to him—his trophies less significant, his soccer photos less important. Reaching inside his closet, he pulled out an old framed photo of his whole family, taken during those few months when it had been whole, and set it on his dresser. It was the first Christmas that Ana had lived with them. He stared at it for a long time. He’d only been eight years old.
Soon, there would be nothing left of that family. Nothing but photos and memories. Just like all of the Lejeunes had vanished from the plantation, there wouldn’t be anyone left at this Magnolia Mile, either. It was too sad, too frightening, to consider. But the panic that had been clawing the inside of his chest had subsided. Now there was just a cold lump of fear.
As he stared at the photo, he backed up and sat down on his bed. That’s when he noticed the folded sheet of paper on his pillow. He picked it up. Pandora jumped on the bed beside him, unlike her usual sneaky self, and curled up against his thigh.
Dear Cole,
I didn’t want to leave without letting you know that your brother was one of the bravest men I ever served with. I know it’s hard to face the uncertainty of the future without him. But you have Ana. Trust that she’ll always be there for you. This family, you and your mother, mean the world to her. Nothing will make her leave you—so you might as well straighten up and stop trying to drive those who love you away with your reckless beheavior.
I bet you didn’t realize I knew what you were up to—maybe you didn’t even know. But I remember being a teenager, with frustrations and the fear. My mother left our family when I was ten. It never stops hurting, but, in time, it does stop bleeding.
I know you’ll step up and take over the reins as the man of this family, because I’ve seen the same courage in you that I saw in your brother.
You are facing difficult days ahead, and I’ll be thinking of all of you here at Magnolia Mile often.
Luke
For a long moment, Cole just sat there staring at the letter. He’d been furious with Luke, feeling that he’d not only betrayed his friendship, but Calvin’s, by kissing Calvin’s wife. Now he felt a pinch of regret. He’d acted like a baby, not thinking about how things were for Ana. Things change—the photo on his dresser told him that very clearly.
Now Luke was gone—and it was too late to do anything about it.
He promised himself he would not be making such selfish mistakes again.
Chapter 22
Three months. Jesus Christ. Luke ran his hands through his hair and bit back a growl of frustration.
For three months he’d made his biweekly call to Reverend Hammond, checking on Olivia. Things had been going along pretty well, some fatigue, manageable pain. She’d been working in the shop nearly every day and had been steadily making arrangements for her own passing. The very thought of planning your own funeral made Luke’s stomach knot. How could someone as full of life as Olivia deal with impending death?
But now, as summer began to close its suffocating fist around the South, Reverend Hammond had called him. And the news wasn’t good. How could Olivia’s health decline so quickly? Luke could understand it if he’d been getting his updates from Olivia, who would have painted a pleasant picture, keeping the grim realities to herself. But he was relying on Reverend Hammond, who seemed to love Olivia as much as anyone did.
On the spring day that Luke had driven away from Magnolia Mile, he’d only gone as far as Memphis. He’d not been able to make himself put more distance between him and Calvin’s family. He couldn’t explain why he’d remained here tending bar on Beale Street, but the very thought of driving farther away was unbearable. At least bartending passed the nights; he didn’t like to sleep when it was dark anymore.
He knew, if he was going to tend bar anywhere, he should have been in Indiana helping his father. But Luke had justified his decision. He didn’t want to tend bar for the rest of his life, and if he started working with his dad, there would be no way to stop. Now, as he looked deep inside, he saw it for the convenient excuse it was. His father would never ask more of Luke than he wanted to give. It was the proximity to Magnolia Mile that kept his feet firmly on southern soil.
When he examined his motivation carefully, he thought it must be a masochistic streak that kept him here. The nightmares had revived themselves with a vengeance since he’d left Grover. Expanding far beyond the moment of Calvin’s death, to include horrors befalling his family. Perhaps if Luke had traveled on home, put more distance between him and Magnolia Mile, if he had begun to fill his life with his own family, the nightmares would have begun to recede.
That thought froze him in midmotion as he paced his rented room, brutally clenching his cell phone as if it had been responsible for the bad news it had just delivered. He knew, until he told Olivia the truth and admitted his weakness, his duplicity, and told her of her son’s heroic death, the dreams would haunt him relentlessly—no matter where he laid his head to sleep.
A matter of days. Reverend Hammond had said Olivia only had a matter of days.
It was now or never.
He quickly made a few calls to arrange being away from work. Then he stuffed his belonging
s into a duffel and was on the road in less than an hour.
Two hours later he was standing in the hall outside Olivia’s hospital room. He’d waited until he saw Analise and Cole leave the hospital for dinner—Reverend Hammond had told Luke that he always held the bedside vigil from six to six forty-five to give the family a break.
As he stood there, gathering his courage, he realized the minutes were quickly ticking past. He knocked lightly on the partially closed door. The reverend came and opened it fully, letting him in. Then the pastor slipped quietly out.
Luke’s stomach flipped upside down. He didn’t know what he’d expected. A bright smile and cheerful conversation? No, he’d not been that naïve, yet seeing Olivia so . . . lifeless . . . stole his breath away.
Her eyes fluttered open, the spark of life clearly still glowing there.
She licked her dry lips. “Luke . . .” It was less than a raspy whisper, but she smiled. Then she pointed to the cup of water on her table.
He stepped closer and held the glass for her while she took a sip from the straw.
“These damn drugs, make me dry as an old onion skin.” Her voice was a little stronger after the water. “I knew you’d come back.” She lifted her hand and he took it, settling his elbow on the bed and sitting in the bedside chair. Her fingers were cool, too cool.
“Don’t try to talk. Rest.”
She sputtered. “People have been trying to shut me up for years.” She grinned and he could see the spunk was still in there, beneath the pale skin and weakened body. “Pretty soon they’ll have their wish. I’ll have plenty of time to rest—later.” Looking him in the eye, she said, “You have something to tell me.”
Her gaze pierced straight to his heart. He nodded and realized that she knew—she’d always known.
She said, “I saw it in your eyes that first day.” She took a shallow quivering breath and Luke wanted to caution her not to use up her strength. But he knew Olivia well enough to know that would do nothing but make her waste her breath arguing about it. “You have . . . a burden.”
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