The Reture of Luke McGuire

by Justine Davis

"That's all right. It's over now," Amelia said.

  "Yeah," Luke agreed, one arm around Amelia, holding her close. "And I don't want to hear any more about nerve or courage or any of that. I've got proof now, lady."

  Amelia blushed, but she had to admit that perhaps, just perhaps, she wasn't quite as timid as she'd always thought. She leaned into him, loving that it was her right to do so. He'd explained about his leaving, castigating himself so fiercely for it that she'd silenced him with a kiss.

  "Just leave a note next time, will you?"

  He looked relieved that there would be a next time, then said rather sheepishly, "I'm not used to having anybody who'd miss me."

  "I missed you. Even before they got here, I missed you."

  She would have shown him right then how much, but it didn't seem quite right, with the police scrambling all over the place. And then Jim had arrived and taken charge, and things seemed to smooth out with only him to deal with.

  Jim looked over at Luke now as two officers led Snake and the hapless Fargo away; the others were already in the back seats of patrol cars. It seemed to Amelia that the entire graveyard shift of Santiago Beach PD must be here.

  "And I should have figured you'd be right in the middle of it all,'' Jim said.

  Luke shrugged. "Hey, I just did the clean up. Amelia handled the tough part."

  Jim eyed Amelia somewhat doubtfully. She couldn't blame him; she couldn't quite believe it herself, that she'd even survived this.

  "Sarge?" The voice came from one of the officers at the door. "I think our reporting party just showed up."

  Amelia looked at Luke. He had related in a few brief sentences what David had told him. He'd also told her he thought his little brother had learned a very painful lesson in a big hurry, and that he'd done some very fast growing up tonight. She looked at Jim and nodded.

  "Send him in," Jim told the officer.

  David came in slowly, hesitantly, as if the room were mined. He looked like he would rather be anywhere else, but he kept coming, until he was standing in front of Amelia.

  "I... I'm sorry Amelia. I never meant for any of this to happen. I never meant any trouble for you. I thought..." He stopped, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. "I thought they were my friends."

  Amelia looked at his anxious face, saw the tearstains and his bruises. He gulped and went on.

  "But they tried to hurt you, and you... you were my real friend."

  "You're wrong, David." He seemed to crumple before her eyes, his shoulders sagging. "Not were. Am. I am your friend."

  David's head came up. "You are? After... what I did?"

  She glanced at Luke pointedly, then looked back at his brother. "I believe in second chances, David. And you did the right thing in the end."

  She held out her arms, hoping that under the circum­stances David wouldn't think he was too old for a hug.

  He didn't. And he hugged her back, rather fiercely.

  "And he's agreed to give testimony about what he saw and heard, and being coerced into trying to pass a forged check," Jim said. "Haven't you?"

  David nodded; Amelia could feel the slight movement against her shoulder. She looked at Luke over David's head and smiled when she saw the look of approval he was giving his little brother.

  After a moment David pulled back. He sniffed. And a tentative smile tried to surface. "Boy, is my mom mad."

  "I'll bet," Luke said dryly.

  Jim cleared his throat. "Does this have anything to do with the car out front registered to Jacqueline Hiller?"

  Amelia blinked. "What car?"

  "Yeah," Luke said. "I... borrowed it to get here."

  Jim looked at Luke for a long, silent moment. "Seems to me I've heard that from you before, that you 'borrowed' a car just to get somewhere."

  "You heard that from a scared, angry kid." Luke let out a weary-sounding sigh. "But I suppose that doesn't make any difference. I presume she's already reported it stolen?" He laughed sourly. "God, this'll make her year, being able to get me tossed in jail."

  "As it happens," Jim said, "she did call. But with all this going on, nobody's gotten over there yet."

  "Jim," Amelia protested, unable to believe what she was hearing. "He saved my life. Snake had that knife, and the kid called Fargo had a bigger one. You saw it!"

  Jim nodded, but his eyes never left Luke. "I think I'll go on over there now. Somebody needs to explain to Mrs. Hiller how badly it will reflect on her if she tries to press charges against a man who was only trying to prevent assault, may­hem and possibly murder."

  Luke drew back, his eyes widening as he stared at the man in the police uniform he'd learned to hate.

  "There's no damage to the car that I can see, you're re­lated to the owner, and you took it to help one of Santiago Beach's finest citizens... no, I don't think that would look very good, even if you are Luke McGuire."

  Luke looked so shocked that Amelia had to smother a smile. She gave Jim a grateful clasp of his hand. He squeezed back, but he still looked at no one but Luke.

  "You know, after our little encounter last night, I did a little checking up on you."

  "You... did?" Luke said, his voice oddly tight.

  "Uh-huh. Ran your record, got a name. One Officer Rob Porter, from the Los Angeles Police Department. He had some pretty interesting things to say."

  Luke let out a long breath. His shoulders sagged, much as his young brother's had, only Amelia could see that in his case it was in relief.

  "One of the best river guides in the state and one of the top ten river kayakers in the country?" Jim asked.

  This time it was Amelia who was surprised; she'd as­sumed he was good, to be a guide, but he'd never told her just how good.

  Luke shifted uncomfortably, not meeting Jim's gaze. "So they say."

  "And then a couple of days ago I talked to Gary Milhouse, too. He informed me you're also certified in swift-water rescue, not to mention first aid and CPR. And an expert on hydrotopography and river dynamics."

  Amelia stared at Luke, who was studying the floor too intently; she was going to have to talk to him about this understatement business.

  "Milhouse also said," Jim added, "that he'd trust you with anything he owned or anyone he loved."

  Luke's head came up then, sharply. "Gary said... that?"

  "He did."

  Luke swallowed. "How about that," he said softly.

  "I take that as a good reference," Jim said, with a rather pointed glance at Amelia. "Looks like it took the newcomer to see the truth. We were all blinded by past history."

  Luke drew himself up straight. And Amelia had never been prouder of him than when he looked Jim in the eye and said, "So was I."

  Jim smiled. He held out his hand. After a split second's hesitation, Luke took it. They shook, and Jim nodded. "I'll be on my way. I have some gossip to spread."

  Before Luke could protest, Jim turned on his heel and was gone.

  Luke swore.

  Amelia laughed.

  "Hail the conquering hero," she said softly. "Luke McGuire has returned."

  Chapter 18

  "Whoooooeeee!"

  David's yelp carried for yards, and Amelia had to laugh; she knew exactly how he felt. She was wet, she was tired, she was a little chilled, but she'd never been so totally pumped and exhilarated in her life.

  Well, she amended as she watched Luke tie up the raft they'd just taken down a section of his beloved river, maybe when they made love, but that was the only thing that even came close. The heat that thought brought on did away with her slight chill.

  "That was so utterly cool!" David was practically danc­ing on the dock at Whitewater West. "Wasn't it, Amelia?"

  "Definitely," she admitted.

  Luke joined them then, smiling at his little brother. "So, you liked that little run?"

  "Oh, man, yeah! This is a lot cooler even than what I thought you were doing."

  Thank goodness for that, Amelia thought.

  "When
can we do it again?" the boy asked eagerly.

  "We'll make another run tomorrow, if you want."

  "Yeah, I do, a lot... but after this, I mean."

  "You going to stay straight?"

  "I will, I promise. She won't even recognize me."

  Amelia saw Luke suppress a smile. "I know you'll try," he said.

  Clearly Luke knew it wouldn't be that easy. Just like he knew he was going to have to fight to stay a part of his brother's life.

  "I'll see what I can do. Sgt. Stavros talked her into this one. Maybe he can talk her into a trip every summer. And I'll go annoy her in person if I have to. Maybe she'll let you go just to keep me away."

  David exulted as if it were a done deal, but Amelia knew that wasn't going to be easy, either. Jim had confronted Jackie with the truth about her son and told her that she was going to lose David if she continued to force the separation between brothers. Amelia suspected Jim had also made con­tact with Luke an unofficial condition of David not being charged with the attempted forgery, although Amelia had never intended to press charges anyway.

  In any case, Jackie had reluctantly allowed this weekend trip. And left open the possibility of future ones.

  "I don't get how she can still hate you, now that she knows the truth," David said.

  "She won't change, Davie," Luke said. "I don't think she can. There's never going to be love between us. But maybe, someday, we can have peace."

  "Hey, David!" came a yell from behind them. "Get on over here if you're eating lunch with us!"

  "Coming! Save me a burger!"

  The boy took off running to where Gary, Diane and their two girls, Jennifer and Jessica, were surrounding a barbecue. Amelia watched him go, then turned to find Luke studying her intently.

  "So," he said, "are you going with us tomorrow? Or staying here with Diane?"

  He was giving her, she realized, an easy way out. She and Diane had hit it off rather well, so there was a good excuse if she'd hated the river and didn't want to go back.

  To her own surprise, she wanted to.

  "I'd like to go with you."

  "You're sure?"

  She nodded. "I... it was wonderful."

  He must have seen that she really meant it, because he grinned. "I knew you'd think so."

  "Oh? And just how did you know that, Mr. McGuire?"

  "Because," he said, pulling her into a bear hug, "under­neath all that calm and cool, you're a class-five, lady." She shook her head, more in wonder than denial. Amazingly, Luke saw the difference. "It's always been there inside you, Amelia. You just buried it so deep it took a while to break loose."

  She laughed. It was so insane. What she'd done today was insane. Virtually every moment since she'd met him had been insane. She was insane, and she was loving every min­ute of it.

  "You know," he said, his voice suddenly husky, "Da­vid's going to be busy for at least an hour over there."

  Amelia knew instantly what he meant. Heat pulsed through her. Luke had come up on his motorcycle last week, then she had driven up this weekend with David, and be­cause of the boy's presence, they had tried to be discreet. Amelia had stayed in the main lodge, rather than being where she wanted to be, in the small cabin on the river, in Luke's bed. It had been a long week for both of them.

  "Maybe longer," she said hopefully.

  He kissed her then, a quick but potent promise of things to come. "I wonder how fast I can get this stuff stowed?" he muttered.

  "Not fast enough," she said, meaning it, and loving the shudder that went through him. Then he released her and began gathering the last of the gear.

  "I think David likes Jessica," she said, trying to control the need that was rising in her as she watched him move with that smooth, economic grace.

  "He'd better watch out for Gary, then," Luke warned. "He's like a grizzly when it comes to protecting those girls."

  Amelia smiled. "I like him. He's a genuinely good guy."

  Luke nodded as he stacked everything away in a locker. "He let me leave at the height of the season, when he couldn't really spare anyone, no questions asked."

  "I'm glad he did," she said softly.

  Their gazes locked. "And unless I miss my guess," he said, his voice rough, "once he notices we're gone, he'll keep David so occupied he won't even miss us."

  "Now that's a friend," she said.

  By the time they reached his small cabin, they were al­ready at a fever pitch. Amelia began to tug at his shirt before he even had the door closed and locked; she'd lost her shy­ness about this days ago, when he'd told her quite bluntly nothing that turned him on more than her being so hungry for him she couldn't wait.

  They left a trail of clothing across the living area, kissing each other fervently as they went, and were naked by the time they hit the door to his small bedroom, their hands busy searching out those special places they'd discovered with hungry caresses, as if they'd been apart much longer than a single week.

  They went down on the bed hard, grace and care forgot­ten, finesse abandoned as they sought the shortest path to what they so desperately needed. In unspoken agreement Amelia lay back, pulling Luke with her, barely giving him enough time to handle protection. She moaned as he slipped between her legs and she felt the thick, blunt hardness of him and knew he was as body aroused as she was. She was on fire; she felt as if she'd been an eon without him, and she was in no mood to wait any longer.

  Luke responded to her urgency with his own, taking only a split second to guide himself and then plunging home in one hard, swift stroke. They both cried out, and for one short, intense moment they hung there, breathless, feeling the rightness of these two bodies locked together.

  And then the blaze ignited. Luke began to move, and Amelia moved with him, reaching, clawing, climbing.

  It hit them hard and fast, on his third stroke. Amelia, startled by the swiftness and fierceness of it, cried out his name as her body convulsed. The moment her muscles clenched in that racking spasm of pleasure, Luke slammed into her once more, then let out a throttled groan as he clutched her so tightly it should have hurt but instead felt wonderful. Her name broke from him in a stunned voice as he exploded along with her.

  He collapsed atop her, his breath coming in harsh, broken gasps. Amelia felt another echoing pulse of that eruption, her body tightening again, and Luke shuddered in response. For a long moment the only sound in the small room was their rapid breathing.

  "Wow," Amelia finally managed, albeit weakly.

  Luke lifted his head, looking, for the moment, as stunned as she had sounded. He swallowed; then came another set of quickened breaths. Then he closed his eyes and let out a long sigh, shaking his head.

  That counted as a wow, Amelia decided.

  When Luke finally rolled away from her, he did it with a jerky, awkward motion that was totally unlike him. He sat on the side of the bed for a moment, then stood. He walked over to the single window in the bedroom and stood looking out over the rushing water. Amelia watched him, loving the way the light came in the window and gilded his body, mak­ing him look like a beautifully carved statue, all gold and dark in the sun.

  Slowly, as the dizzying fog lifted, she realized he'd moved in that same disjointed way when he'd walked across the room. She sat up, the tiniest of furrows appearing be­tween her brows. She opened her mouth to speak, then shut it again, remembering lessons learned. And at last he spoke.

  "This place saved my life, Amelia. Until I found the river, I was just existing. Too many times I used to wonder why, used to think both the world and I would be better off if I didn't. Every day was the same. There was nothing to look forward to, not one damn thing that made me welcome a new day."

  She hurt for the boy he'd been. But beneath that ache, although his words weren't particularly ominous, an uneas­iness began to bubble inside her. She grabbed for something to put on; she might be shockingly brazen with Luke, but she wasn't quite up to standing naked in front of a window yet, even if the likel
ihood of being seen was virtually nil. She had the T-shirt half on before she realized it was Luke's. It was still warm from his body, carried his scent, so she finished pulling it down.

  "Then the river became my life. It's what gives it mean­ing. It's what I do. It's who I am."

  The ominous feeling grew, and Amelia suddenly realized the real reason she'd felt the need for clothing: for protec­tion. He was talking gently, almost pleadingly. As if begging her to understand.

  And she did, all too well. He was making it as clear as he could that this was his life. And the next step was no doubt to explain that she had no part in it. The knowledge hit her like a blow; this was why he wouldn't even look at her. The only thing she could think was that his timing stunk, no matter how he might try to let her down easily, to do it after the kind of explosive passion they had just shared.

  She sat on the edge of his bed, wishing she trusted her legs enough to move, to run, to escape what she was very much afraid was coming.

  "I could live on another river," he said. "Maybe not even on a river, but close. But I could never, ever live in Santiago Beach again. I just can't, Amelia. I don't ever want to go back there."

  So there it was. She should have known, she supposed. She'd been a fling, a distraction when he'd been stuck in ancient history, but now he had his old life back, and she wasn't part of it.

  With an effort greater than it had taken to face Snake, Fargo and the rest, knives and all, she gathered the shreds of her poise around her. She couldn't let him see how much this hurt. She wouldn't. No matter what it cost her.

  "I understand," she said stiffly.

  He turned from the window then. For an instant she broke and let herself look at him, drinking in the sight of his pow­erful, beautiful body, wondering how long she could live on the memory.

  She turned away, gathering up her jeans and underwear, tugging them on haphazardly. "I'll go back to the lodge. And I'll pass on tomorrow, thank you. I'll take David home as soon as you're back."

  Despite her efforts, her voice was strained. She was no good at this. How did more sophisticated people do it, have an affair and walk away so casually? How did they hide the pain? Didn't they—