An awkward silence stretched between them until Carly gave him a questioning glance and asked, “How much is it costing you?”
“What?”
“Switching over to natural gas engines.”
“More than I want to think about.” In fact, it had pushed the project way over budget and thrown off their timeline. And they didn’t even know if Shelby’s process would work or not.
She cleared her throat. “Thank you for doing that for Dustin.”
Luke nodded. It hadn’t only been for Dustin. “Okay if I come back and play chess with him this evening?”
She pressed her lips together and didn’t reply.
“I know I might not be the ideal male role model,” he said, watching her face. “But I’m what’s available, and the kid doesn’t have a dad.”
Her gaze bounced up to his and her face spasmed as if in regret. “Okay. He should be finished with his homework and ready for chess by seven.”
Puzzled over the way she had looked at him, Luke nodded and returned to his truck, grateful she’d given him another chance.
* * *
WHEN LUKE CAME back that evening to play a game of chess with Dustin, Carly fled to her work shed. She examined the two mahogany chairs under bright light, unable to quite decide the source of the surface scratches. These two looked like they’d been caught in a tornado, which, in Oklahoma, was a distinct possibility. She would strip and sand them and then apply a rich varnish to finish, which antiques dealers would frown on. She wasn’t an antiques dealer, though, and up-cycling meant the item would be improved when she completed it.
The next piece she examined was the piano bench, and she discovered that the leg could be easily repaired. She didn’t understand why people didn’t make the effort to perform such an easy fix. This had been at the end of Mrs. Held’s driveway. The sheriff’s mother was quite elderly and probably hadn’t felt like dealing with the broken leg. Staring at it for a few seconds, Carly realized it was the bench to her grand piano, which she still played when she felt strong enough.
Carly shook her head. She didn’t know how the bench had ended up on the trash heap, but she would repair it and return it to Mrs. Held, who even now was probably wondering where it had gone.
As she worked her way down the table, assessing and planning, making notes and checking supplies, she couldn’t keep her mind off Luke and what he’d done for Dustin. He’d caught her by surprise with his announcement that he was switching out the engines. What had Robert said about the added expense? She could only imagine.
She’d been furious over the diesel fumes, but Luke had made amends. Also, when he’d walked through the door this evening, Dustin had been glad to see him, eager to play checkers, which his father had taught him. Maybe the two of them would develop a friendship. Dustin needed a responsible male friend.
And what about her? What did she need? Carly sat on a stool by her worktable and thought about the way Luke had kissed her.
Thinking about it made her want to weep with longing, frustration and regret. Seeing him again, spending so much time with him, made her remember what it had been like to be crazy in love with him and then to lose everything. Over the years she’d tried to sort through it and had realized they’d started their marriage on a shaky foundation of attraction and then they’d lost their child.
They had talked about him at last, standing out there in her yard, surrounded by gardening implements, pieces of broken furniture and the tools she used to rebuild those broken pieces. Really, they were the tools she’d used to rebuild her life. She was shaken to realize he didn’t blame her for the baby’s death. Since she had been so broken after the miscarriage, prostrate with grief and unable to talk about it, she’d thought he blamed her as much as she blamed herself. It was a relief to know he didn’t and it gave her the first stirrings of a new peace she hadn’t known.
She felt shaky, noodle-kneed, as she always did after being in a boat. It would take her a while to come to grips with this. For all the hard work she’d done to make her businesses successful, she’d done most of it to keep herself occupied and too tired to think about her loss. In fact, she had a mental picture of her heart with a no-admittance sign on it.
But Luke was right. She’d taken responsibility for Dustin partly because she’d let Era down and partly because she thought her son would have looked like him. Mostly, though, it was because he’d been so vulnerable in spite of his toughness. After what he’d told her last night, she knew he needed someone on his side even if he fought it.
She placed both hands on the worktable and bent her head forward as her thoughts sorted themselves out. Somehow, seeing Luke again, receiving Wendolin’s trunk and all the family items in it, had helped spark her need for a child. Not to replace the one she’d lost, because that would never be possible, especially after all this time, but because she knew she could take care of one. All these years, her heart had ached for a child of her own. She had buried that need in hard work, but it had never gone away.
She only had to remember not to depend on Luke. He probably wouldn’t be around after the six months were up. The project would be done and he would move on. She needed to be okay with that.
As if to emphasize that point, the table beneath her hands trembled and the shop lights swayed.
“Another earthquake,” she said aloud, looking up. It stopped as quickly as it had begun.
The short duration didn’t make it any less worrisome. There were more and more of them all the time, often of higher magnitude. She still wanted to know if Dr. Wayne’s process would increase the problem, or contaminate her water, but she couldn’t get an answer.
She had kissed Luke. She had talked to him about the baby, lost her composure, been comforted by him and kissed him. She hadn’t expected it, hadn’t wanted it, and the kiss had agitated feelings she’d kept under control for years.
Getting involved with Luke, falling in love with him again, couldn’t happen. True, she was older, more mature, independent and modestly successful—in fact, everything she hadn’t been at nineteen. But that didn’t mean she could handle another broken heart.
* * *
DUSTIN WON ANOTHER game of chess.
“I can’t believe I keep losing to a twelve-year-old,” Luke grumbled, causing Dustin to grin. “Are you sure you’ve never played before?”
“Maybe. A little,” the boy admitted. “My dad showed me when I was eight, then one of my mom’s boyfriends played with me until he knew he didn’t have to be nice to me for my mom to like him. She liked all those guys that came around after Dad died.”
Luke’s gaze bounced from the chessboard to Dustin’s face. His expression was completely neutral as he looked at the game. He was merely reporting what had happened, as if it didn’t affect him at all. Dustin must have learned at a young age to hide his emotions as much as possible because that’s how people hurt you.
The sorrow Luke felt for this boy twisted his gut.
Since he had lost his own mother when he was only nineteen, Luke knew a little of what Dustin felt. And losing his child to a one-in-a-million miscarriage had created a deep-rooted grief he’d never get over, even though he’d learned to live with it.
And Carly felt that same grief, carried it with her every day. Strangely, he felt grateful that her sorrow was as deep as his own. It made carrying that burden a little easier.
“Hey, Luke,” Dustin complained. “It’s no fun playing with a guy who lets me win.”
Luke blinked and looked at the board. How many games had he lost now? “Oh, yeah?” he said, meeting Dustin’s eyes. “Well, get ready, buddy, because you’re going down.”
Dustin rolled his eyes and reset the board.
* * *
TO CARLY’S RELIEF Dustin seemed to settle into school within a few days. Or at least, she’d thou
ght so until she received a call from the vice principal. Chet Franklin had been her eleventh-grade government and history teacher.
“You’ve got a live one here, Carly.”
“What do you mean?” She immediately had visions of behavior issues and school suspensions. Afraid this was going to be a difficult conversation, she cut the motor on the four-wheeler and sat, staring at her pumpkin field.
Mr. Franklin cleared his throat. “He’s smart. I mean scary smart.”
“Really?” Pride filled her heart as she grinned. She glanced around the gardens, wishing there was someone to share this with. “I have to admit that I thought he was, but I’m not an educator, so I wasn’t sure.”
“Well, now you can be sure. Even though he’s bounced from school to school, he’s far above grade level in every subject, especially math.”
“Well, that’s wonderful, isn’t it?”
“It is, as long as we can keep him challenged. What would you think of putting him in a high school algebra class?”
“You’re kidding! He’s that smart?”
“Absolutely.”
“I don’t know.” She thought for a long moment. “Are you sure he could handle it? I knew he was smart, but that sounds like genius level.”
“Not quite, but certainly superintelligent. I think he’s used to hiding how bright he is.”
Carly thought about the conflicts between Dustin and Jay. She wondered now if Dustin had pulled those tricks on Jay because he was desperate to show how smart he was as well as to test the limits to see how far he could go.
Still, she hesitated. “He’s not a big kid, and he would be in with all those almost grown-ups.”
“I think he can handle it. Think about it and let me know. If it’s acceptable to you, he can start next week. The teacher is all for it. He’d love to see how having a twelve-year-old in that class will shake things up.”
“I guarantee he’ll shake things up,” she said with a sigh. “I’ll think about this, Mr. Franklin.” She would certainly talk it over with Dustin and Era, and maybe Luke. Dustin’s education was a nice, neutral subject.
“Also, Carly, there’s something else. I’ve already talked to Dustin about it, but could you please ask him to quit drawing caricatures of the other kids in his classes? And the teachers?”
“Caricatures,” she said faintly, recalling Jay’s face drawn on pumpkins.
“They’re not mean. In fact, they’re flattering. He drew one of me that gave me a full head of hair, took off forty pounds and put me in a captain’s uniform at the wheel of an ocean liner. I’m getting it framed.”
Carly chuckled. “I hear a ‘but’ coming.”
“They’re papering the school.”
“He’s not selling them, is he?”
“Not yet.”
“I’ll talk to him.”
When she took Dustin to the hospital that afternoon, they were happy to see that Era was well enough to be moved to the extended care facility attached to the hospital, where she would receive daily physical and occupational therapy. Era was regaining her strength and her health, as well as her interest in the world. She wanted to return to her normal activities as soon as possible.
After their visit, Dustin scooted into the truck and snapped his seat belt into place. “When she’s better, we’re going home,”
“That might not be for a while, Dustin.” Carly pulled out of the parking lot even as she glanced at his face, trying to gauge his mood and decide how much to say.
“I can take care of her. I did it before. If she doesn’t get sick again, I can take care of her,” he said with utter confidence. “The hospital in Reston is open now, so if she gets sick again, she can go there. That guy, Dr. Smith, can be her doctor. I just need to learn how to cook,” he added.
“It’s not that simple, Dustin,” Carly said, but he wasn’t listening.
“Dustin, your grandma isn’t going to want you to give up your own life, your interests, your social life to take care of her.”
“But I can do it. I can stay and take care of her.” He was adamant, so Carly let it drop for now. Era was still many weeks from independence, anyway.
Although no one had told him, Dustin seemed to understand that his mother wasn’t coming for him. He never asked about her, or about having to return to Waco. With that threat gone, he likely saw no reason he couldn’t live with Era.
Carly wanted to let him continue in his fantasy for a while longer. He had a stable life and was doing well in school.
She decided that since Dustin seemed fairly happy today she would talk about the caricatures.
“I got a call from Mr. Franklin today, the vice principal at the middle school.”
Dustin looked out the window and shook his head. “Sheesh. I’ve only been there a week.”
“You’re not really in trouble,” she said quickly. “But he says your drawings are taking over the school.”
“Kids like ’em.”
“I’m sure they do, and you’re a talented artist, but Mr. Franklin says they’re distracting and you’re using too much paper, even though they’re very good.” She paused. “By the way, where do you get the paper?”
“Off the classroom printers.”
“Oh, that must be popular with the teachers,” she said dryly.
“Nah, they don’t like it.”
“You have to stop that. I’m sure school budgets are tight enough without you using up reams of printer paper.”
“If I bring my own paper, can I keep doing them? Kids like ’em,” he repeated.
Carly frowned and then looked at him. “That’s how you’re making friends, isn’t it?”
Dustin shrugged.
Carly knew he had an odd unwillingness to admit he really enjoyed anything. Maybe he was afraid it would be taken away from him.
“I’ll think about it,” she said.
“Sheesh,” he muttered again, looking out the window at the passing scenery.
“We can come up with a solution, Dustin, but it would be better if we both worked on it.”
When he didn’t answer, she went on. “I admit I don’t know anything about having to move from school to school, place to place, but you’re here now and this is where you’ll stay. This is your hometown now. It’s also your grandma’s hometown. She’s respected in the community.”
His uneasy look told her he was listening. “Yeah, so?”
“So you want to be someone who makes her proud, not someone who breaks the rules.”
She let him think about that as they drove in silence for a few miles. “There’s something else, too. Mr. Franklin says he and your math teacher want to put you in the algebra class at the high school.”
“Huh?” His face screwed up in question.
“It’s true. They think you need more of a challenge.”
Dustin crossed his arms over his chest and sat back. “They just want to make it hard for me, make me fail. You want me to fail.”
Carly gritted her teeth. “Nobody wants that.”
His assumption hurt, but she knew it was only a knee-jerk reaction. In spite of his attitude, her heart warmed to him. Given all that had happened to him, he still wasn’t defeated by life. She could relate to that.
“Is your math class too easy?”
“It’s baby math.”
“Well, then, I’d think you’d want the challenge. You can at least try it.”
He was silent all the way home, but when they stepped from the truck, he said, “Do you think my grandma would like it if I took the algebra class?”
“You can ask her, but I think she would be proud of you. Everyone wants to be proud of their kids and grandkids.”
Dustin gave her another of those suspicious looks, but he finall
y said, “Okay. I’ll try it, but if it’s too hard, I can go back to the one I’m in now, right?”
“Right.” Carly gave him a one-armed hug, but he ducked away. Still, she saw a flicker of a smile on his lips.
* * *
DUSTIN HOVERED IN the doorway, his gaze jerking around the classroom of high school kids, looking for a place to sit. Of course, the first person he saw was Jay Morton, though he sat near the back of the room. Jay crossed his arms over his chest and stared at him as if he was daring Dustin to come near.
Of all the junked-up messes, Dustin thought and he tried to turn away, back into the hallway, but Mr. Franklin was right behind him.
“It’s okay, Dustin. Go on in. This is the right classroom.”
That’s what you think, mister. The kids were shuffling, looking at him, questioning how this shrimp had landed there with all these sharks, although they’d been told he was coming. Maybe they’d thought it was a joke—a seventh-grader, and a new one at that, enrolling in their algebra class.
While this commotion was going on, the vice principal went to talk to the teacher, Mr. Gilpin, who smiled and nodded at Dustin. They’d met the day before and Mr. G, as he liked to be called, had explained how things worked in his class—although he hadn’t said anything about how the other kids would react.
That left Dustin to find his own seat.
Standing in the middle of one row, he met Jay’s eyes. Reluctantly, Jay motioned for Dustin to come closer and pointed to the seat next to him. Dustin hesitated but took the seat just so he could get out of everyone’s line of sight.
Jay leaned over and whispered, “Don’t embarrass me.”
Dustin didn’t respond. What did the big jerk think he was going to do to embarrass him? Turning to face the front, he was soon captivated by the interactive electronic screen with the day’s lesson laid out step-by-step.
Even though they’d been in this class for weeks, some of the students seemed to be confused by the new concept they were learning, although Mr. G explained, gave examples, worked through it with them on the screen, then explained again.
The Husband She Can't Forget Page 17