Give Me Liberty

by Anne Brock

"Come on," he said. "Get in. We're late. The game's gonna start in fifteen minutes."

  "I'll get in on one condition," Lib said. "You've got to promise not to kiss me again until after we've had a chance to talk."

  Luke stared at her. "You're kidding."

  "No, I'm not."

  He smiled his most beguiling smile. "Not even a good luck kiss before the game?"

  "We've won the past four games in a row," Lib said. "We don't need luck to win. So... do you promise?"

  "You're serious, aren't you?"

  "Damn serious. I'll drive myself over if I have to," she said, pulling back out of the window, as if she were going to jump down onto the driveway and get into her own car. "All right," Luke said hastily. "God. I promise."

  Lib opened the door and climbed into the truck. She smiled at him as she fastened her seat belt.

  "This is really great for my ego," Luke grumbled as he threw the truck into gear and spun out down the street. "First woman I've kissed in three years, and you only look happy when I promise not to do it again."

  "Poor baby," Lib laughed.

  "So talk to me," Luke said.

  Lib shook her head. "We've got a game to play in a few minutes," she said. "You don't really want to start a conversation that we can't possibly finish now, do you?"

  "I don't understand what there is to talk about," Luke argued, as the truck bounced into the softball field parking lot. "I know you feel the same thing I do, I can see it in your eyes. I don't want to be just friends any more, Lib. I want—"

  "I know."

  Luke parked the truck and turned to look at her, slipping his arm up along the back of the seat. She was looking down at the softball glove she held in her lap.

  "It's this money thing," Lib said, glancing up at him. "I'm just not comfortable getting involved with someone I owe so much money to. There's too much room for misunderstandings and mistrust. So. I called Rich Lowell and asked him to set up an appointment for me down at the bank. I'm going to try to get a mortgage on the house so I can pay you back the money I borrowed."

  "Excuse me for insulting you, sweetheart," Luke said with a disbelieving laugh, "but that's nuts. The way we've got it set up, you don't have to start paying me back until you've finished the work on the house. But the bank's not going to wait. They'll want your first payment right away. You're going to have to get a job — in fact you'll need to get one before they'll approve the loan. And if you're working full time, that leaves only evenings and weekends to finish the house. It's going to take you forever."

  Lib didn't say anything. Out of the window she could see the team warming up. "The game's going to start—"

  "To hell with the game," Luke said.

  Lib looked up into dark eyes that were piercing in their intensity. Her gaze lowered to his mouth, to those lips that could kiss her and make her feel the way no other man had ever made her feel. She wanted him to kiss her again. She wanted it so badly —

  "Priorities," she said, looking back into his eyes. "You're right — I want to finish the work on the house. I also want to be able to wait to start paying back the loan. But right now there are other things I want more."

  "Like what?"

  He still didn't understand. Either that or he wanted to hear her say it... Lib pushed open the door of the truck and unfastened her seat belt, looking out toward the field.

  "Like winning this game tonight," she said with a smile. "Like kicking the Falcons' butts." She looked up at Luke and her smile faded. Time to be honest. "Like... you."

  The red and orange light from the setting sun cast shadows across his face, making him look mysterious and even more exotically handsome than usual. As she watched, his dark eyes seemed to turn even darker. He slowly shook his head.

  "No way," he said, sliding across the seat toward her. "Uh-uh. You're not going to say something like that to me and expect me not to kiss you."

  "But we haven't finished talking," Lib said, backing away, climbing down out of the truck. "And you promised."

  Luke frowned. "There's more to say?"

  "You bet."

  "Lib—"

  "Luke, we'll have time to talk after the game," she said quietly. "Lots and lots of time. Let's not rush this, okay? Please?"

  He was silent, just looking at her, but finally he nodded. "All right," he said. "We'll play by your rules."

  "This isn't a game," Lib said, her violet eyes serious. "The only game I'm interested in playing is about to start over there on that field. So move it, Fulton. I want to blow the Falcons away."

  Luke had to run to keep up with Lib as she jogged toward the softball field. Their team was up first, and he joined the other players on the bench, quickly changing into his softball cleats.

  "You're batting third, Luke," the team captain told him.

  "'Bout time you guys showed up. I was starting to think we'd have to forfeit the game." He grinned. "To tell you the truth, I almost wish we had. It woulda been much less painful. The Falcons are going to tromp us into the ground. Anyone taking bets? Are we gonna get shut out again by these guys?"

  "Milt, you're supposed to tell us that we're going to win," Lib said from where she sat further down the metal bench. "Come on, guys, we can beat the Falcons. It's just not going to be as easy as the last four games."

  "We are on a winning streak," one of the outfielders said.

  "I don't know," Milt said dubiously, watching the first batter strike out. "We've never beaten the Falcons yet."

  "Joanie, get on base," Lib shouted to the next batter. "Luke's up next and he's gonna hit a triple. He'll bring you home." She turned and grinned teasingly at Luke. "Right?"

  Luke met her eyes steadily, holding her gaze as he stood up and picked up a bat. "If it would make you happy," he said, "I'd do damn near anything."

  The players on the bench let out a collective "Oooh," looking from Luke to Lib and then back again. Someone started chanting that old playground song about Lib and Luke sitting in a tree.

  Lib felt her cheeks heat up. Good grief, what was wrong with her? She was blushing like a school girl. And naturally, Luke noticed.

  He grinned at her, warming up the muscles in his shoulders and back by swinging the heavy bat.

  There was a sound as the ball hit the wood of a bat, and Lib leapt to her feet, her embarrassment forgotten as she watched Joan run for first base.

  Luke's turn.

  She watched him step into the batter's box, digging in slightly with the toe of his cleats, lowering his center of gravity for balance, and bringing the bat back. He wore a Wed pair of baseball pants, and the stretchy fabric hugged his muscular legs and derriere. It was undeniable. Luke Fulton had an incredibly cute butt.

  As if he knew what she was thinking, he suddenly stepped out of the batter's box, and turned and looked at her. And grinned.

  "Hey, Lib," he said.

  The umpire was exasperated. "Luke. Get to it here, will you?"

  Lib stood, crossing to the wire mesh fence that protected the team from stray balls.

  "Does it have to be a triple?" Luke asked. He tapped the sides of his cleats with the bat, then made sure his T-shirt was tucked into his pants. "Can I hit a home run?"

  She crossed her arms. "Oh, please," she said. "Be my guest."

  Luke smiled, positioning himself over the plate again. The look on her face told him if he did something dumb, like pop up to right field, she'd tease him about this for the rest of his life.

  But he knew this pitcher. This guy occasionally let go with a perfect floater — nice and soft and straight down the middle. And Luke knew if he hit a home run, his team would get jazzed. Ty Bartlett was up next, and he was another power hitter — but a total head case. If Bartlett thought they were going to lose, he'd strike out. But if he thought they might win

  The pitcher let go of the ball, and Luke knew he had a real chance at hitting it over the wall. He felt strong. He pulled the bat back farther and swung, feeling the power in his shoulders and arms.
It felt good. He felt good. For the first time in years he felt really good, and it had nothing to do with being close to his goal of buying back his land. It had nothing to do with the land at all. It was all about Lib. She made him feel alive. She made him feel

  The force of the bat hitting the ball jarred Luke's entire body, and the crack! was so loud, it hurt his ears.

  The ball was brilliant white against the darkening evening sky as it rocketed in a high arc toward center field, but Luke didn't watch it. He didn't run toward first base. He didn't even walk. He simply stood at home plate and lowered his bat to the ground.

  His mouth was dry and his hands were shaking and it had nothing to do with the fact that he'd just hit a home run that dropped a good fifty yards outside of the center field fence.

  He turned and looked at Lib.

  The rest of his team was going nuts, jumping up and down and shouting, but Lib was still standing at the backstop.

  "Show off," she said and smiled at him.

  If he wasn't certain before, her smile clinched it for him. He was in love with Liberty Jones.

  Chapter Seven

  Victory was sweet.

  Unfortunately, it was also messy.

  Lib laughed as another can of beer was sprayed over her and her teammates.

  "Awesome double-play," Joanie said, giving Lib a high five. "I can't believe we beat the Falcons. Nobody beats the Falcons!"

  "Negative thinking gets you nowhere," Lib said. "How many times have I told you that?"

  Joan laughed, then squealed as another can of beer was shaken up and opened.

  "Frequently," she said. "At least four times a game. But winning this one proves it." The shorter woman smiled up at Lib. "You know, I'm beginning to think you might actually have a ghost of a chance with Luke Fulton."

  Lib frowned slightly. "Only a ghost of a chance?"

  Joan shrugged. "Hey, I'm only recently converted to your way of thinking," she said with a smile. "Luke's got to be the best-looking guy in town." She glanced across the crowd to where Luke was talking to Ty Bartlett. Lib followed her gaze, and as they watched, Luke pulled off his T-shirt. As if he could feel their eyes on him, he looked up at Lib and smiled.

  Joan sighed. "Well, okay, so he's not the best-looking guy in town. He's the best-looking guy in Vermont."

  "Would you believe the Western Hemisphere?" Lib said.

  "No," Joan said. "The world. The entire world." The two women looked at each other and laughed. "Seriously, though, Lib," Joan said. "Luke might be nice to look at, but..."

  Joan scuffed at the dusty ground with the toe of her sneaker.

  "Say it," Lib urged. "Just say it."

  "The man's a snake," Joan finally said. "If I were you, I'd stay far away from him. You deserve more than just a chance at happiness. You deserve to be treated better." She looked up at Lib. "You know that I'm only saying this because I like you."

  Lib nodded seriously. "I know," she said. "But I think you're wrong. Luke treats me just fine. He's really very sweet—"

  "Because you haven't slept with him," Joan said.

  Lib didn't say anything, surprised that this woman she barely knew was delving so deeply into her personal affairs. "You haven't, have you?" Joan persisted.

  Lib finally shook her head. No.

  "I've known a few of Luke's lady friends," Joan said. "Apparently, he's all sugar and spice until the morning after. Then it's icicle time — if he even bothers to stay till the sun comes up."

  "Joan, I don't want to hear this—"

  "It's a game to him, Liberty," Joan said. "If you don't know the rules, you can't possibly win. He's after the conquest, the thrill of the chase."

  "No, he's different now," Lib said.

  "How can you be sure?"

  "You don't have to be sure," Lib said quietly, "when you've got faith."

  Lib looked up to find Luke watching her.

  "Come on." She couldn't hear him over the celebratory noise, but she could clearly read his lips. He gestured with his head toward the parking lot. "Let's go," he mouthed.

  "See you later, Joan," she said, pushing free of the crowd. Her stomach felt nervous. This was it. She and Luke were finally going to sit down and talk. She was going to have to tell him... what?

  That she really wanted him to be convinced she wasn't going to leave town before they became romantically involved? That she didn't want just a brief affair, just a fling? That she didn't want temporary or short term? That she was hoping for... that she wanted forever. She actually wanted to spend the rest of her life with Luke Fulton.

  She could barely believe it herself. That she was actually considering marriage was crazy. The fact that she wanted to marry Luke was pure insanity. Joan's warning hadn't been idle gossip. In fact, Lib believed that at one time, Luke had been the very man that Joan had described. He had as much as admitted himself that he'd never been in a long-term relationship before. Hell, to Luke Fulton, long-term probably meant a month.

  But she wanted him. Lord help her, she wanted him. She could hardly think about her feelings for this man without getting overwhelmed and having to sit down.

  The real crazy thing was, she did have faith in Luke. She trusted him. Despite his reputation, despite his history, she believed with every fiber of her being that if they were married, if he promised her forever, it would be a promise that he would keep.

  Lib sighed. If only Luke trusted her. If only he didn't think of her as an outsider. Then they could skip the talking and go straight to the kissing. And she wanted to kiss him again.

  Lib came face to face with Luke, just on the other side of the team bench.

  He'd been soaked with beer and his dark hair was curling and sticking to his neck. He wrung out his T-shirt and a stream of liquid splashed onto the dusty ground.

  "Yuck," said Lib.

  Luke futilely tried to wipe his face with his bare arm. "You're not exactly fresh either," he said, settling for pushing his hair out of his eyes.

  "We should get hosed down before we get into your truck," Lib said. Her sneakers squooshed when she walked.

  He opened the cab door for her. "A little beer won't hurt anything," he said.

  "I would practically sell my soul for a swim in the pond," Lib said, climbing into the truck.

  "So let's go for a swim," Luke said, shutting the door behind her.

  "I still can't believe you hit three home runs," she said as he got into the truck and started the engine.

  Luke looked over at her and smiled, pulling out of the parking lot. "I can't believe that after I did it twice, the Falcon's pitcher didn't walk me," he said. "Obviously, the guy throws 'em just the way I like 'em."

  Lib's eyebrows rose. "Awfully humble talk for a man whose batting average has just gone over six hundred."

  "Let's just say I've been inspired lately," Luke said, making the turn onto Forest Road. He glanced at her. "The whole team has. You know, we've already lost too many games to make it into the play-offs, but with you on the team, I wouldn't be surprised if we go all the way and win the pennant next year."

  Next year.

  Lib sat very still.

  This was the very first time Luke had ever brought up the subject of the future. All the hundreds and hundreds of conversations they'd had about the past and the present and work and life, Luke had never used the words 'next year' and 'you' in the same sentence.

  Maybe it was a slip. Maybe he wasn't thinking. Lib had to know.

  "I don't mind playing first base," Lib said, hoping that her voice wouldn't start shaking and give her away, "but all through high school and college I played catcher." She took a deep breath. "What are my chances of being the catcher next year?"

  Next year.

  To Lib, the words seemed to hang between them heavily, like a thick, wet blanket. But Luke didn't seem to notice.

  He squinted slightly, thinking. "I dunno," he said. The truck bounced over the potholes in Lib's driveway and came to a shuddering stop. "Ty's bee
n catching for about seven years. But he's always bitching and moaning about how much his back hurts when he crouches down, so you might have a shot at it." He glanced at her and smiled. "I've got to confess, I like having you play first base. Maybe next year, you and Ty can switch off."

  Lib felt like crying and laughing both at the same time. Luke believed that she was going to stay in Sterling. Luke had finally realized that when she said she was going to live here permanently, she meant it.

  The rush of emotions she felt was overwhelming. Rather than throwing her arms around Luke, though, she threw open the door of the truck and jumped out.

  "Last one in's a rotten egg," she said, and ran for the backyard.

  The moon was nearly full, and it bathed the meadow with its silvery light. The night air felt cool against Lib's face as she ran along the path toward the pond. She could hear Luke behind her, gaining on her, and she picked up her pace.

  She hit the little wooden dock in full stride and jumped off the end of it, into the pond, with Luke still on her heels. The water was cool and dark. Lib let herself float just beneath the surface, feeling the heat and dust of the day wash away, escaping for a moment in the soothing silence underneath the water.

  She surfaced with a splash only a few feet away from Luke. He smiled at her, pushing his wet hair out of his eyes.

  "Do you always go swimming with your sneakers on?" he asked.

  "Only when the moon's full," Lib said.

  Luke swung himself out of the water, onto the dock and sat on the edge. As Lib watched, he began to untie his sneakers. "Moon won't be absolutely full until tomorrow," he said, tossing the wet sneakers to the other end of the dock and pulling off his socks.

  Lib floated in the water, looking up at him. In the moon-light, his body looked sculpted and perfect, and his face was as handsome as any Hollywood movie star's. He may very well have been the most handsome man in the world.

  Luke crouched at the end of the dock, reaching out his hand for her. "Come on," he said. "Swimming time is up. We've got to talk. Remember?"

  Oh yeah. She remembered.

  Lib took his hand and let him pull her up, out of the water, onto the dock.

  Water ran off her in a sheet, and she pushed her hair from her face, wringing it out behind her back.