Ghost of Summer

by Sally Berneathy

  A shiver ran down Kate's spine. That really wasn't what she wanted to hear. She looked at Luke standing a couple of feet away, politely pretending he wasn't listening to her conversation. She desperately wanted to confide in him and just as desperately wanted to keep her problems and her heart to herself.

  "We've got some more errands to run while we're here. Have him call me on my cell when you talk to him."

  "Will do! So you're spending the day in Dallas with that big, handsome deputy, huh? Well, you two have a real good time!"

  Kate wanted to protest that she and Luke were there strictly on business, but there was no point in it. She'd be trying to convince herself as much as Evelyn. "We'll do that," she said instead.

  She disconnected the phone, moved over beside Luke and repeated what Evelyn had told her except for the part about the big, handsome deputy.

  Luke shrugged. "Okay. So we get the computer stuff then come back by here on the way out of town. I'll drive you wherever you want to go, and I'll help carry the boxes, but that will be my sole contribution to that portion of our trip. The only thing I know about computers is that they have some little green man inside to make them run, and if you spill coffee on him, he gets mad and goes on strike."

  Kate laughed in spite of their problems. "That's a good start. That little green man doesn't like to have soft drinks or tea spilled on him, either. I speak from experience."

  They spent the rest of the morning and much of the afternoon looking for computers and all the necessary accessories and peripherals and the appropriate software. In between, they made a stop at her office to get a copy of a technical manual she wanted, ate lunch and tried to call Papa two more times with no success.

  They left the last store with the last item, and were barely able to cram it all into Luke's trunk and back seat.

  "I'm going to try Papa one more time," Kate said. "If he's still not in his office, we might as well head back home. The courthouse closes in an hour and a half."

  Luke shook his head. "I don't understand. That's not like Sheriff."

  No, Kate thought. It wasn't like him at all. Something was definitely wrong, and the thought gave her heart a painful twist.

  Luke pulled over into a convenience store parking lot. "I'll get us something cold to drink while you call Sheriff," he said.

  Kate nodded, got out of the car and stood in the shade close to the store front. The day had become unbearably hot, the heat intensified by all the concrete and asphalt in the shopping centers they'd visited. Knowing what they would face, Kate had worn a light cotton blouse, long skirt and sandals, but even so, the heat assaulted her with a vengeance every time they stepped out into it.

  Evelyn answered on the first ring. "He's right here," she declared happily. "Sheriff, it's Katie again."

  "Papa, we went by the courthouse this morning and your papers aren't ready." She kept her voice calm and refrained from asking where he'd been all day. On a picnic with Mama? Shopping for a mother of the bride dress for her wedding? "Is there a problem?"

  "Oh, I didn't know you were going to the courthouse first. I thought you'd go computer shopping and then swing by to pick up those papers last."

  Kate sagged with relief that Papa had a reasonable explanation. "Well, we've got the computers and we're ready to swing by the courthouse again. Have you talked to them yet? Are the papers ready now?"

  "To tell you the truth, I haven't called yet. I just got in. Had to go out and talk to Homer Grimes and Seth Flanders again. I sure don't know what to make of that situation. Somebody took wire cutters to a section of Homer's fence, and some of his cattle got out. I just can't imagine Seth doing something like that. On the other hand, I can see how Homer could drive you to desperate measures, always complaining and carrying on. I think he might need some of that Prozac stuff I'm always hearing about. Seth says he didn't have anything to do with it, and I believe him, but Homer's ready to take the law into his own hands. Took me a long to get him calmed down."

  The temperature rose at least ten degrees as Kate bit her lip and waited impatiently for Papa to finish his story. "Can you call the courthouse now?" she asked when he finally concluded.

  "Of course I can, Katie-girl. You kids get a cold soda pop and call me back when you're through so I can tell you what I find out."

  "Why don't we just go on down to the courthouse? If you call right now, the papers should be ready when we get there, shouldn't they?"

  "Maybe. Maybe not. Getting everything copied is kind of complicated. Depends on how busy they are down there, and you know they're always busy in Dallas."

  Kate lifted her hair off the back of her neck in a futile attempt to find relief from the heat. "If getting it copied is that complicated, shouldn't you have called earlier?" As soon as she spoke the words, she wished she could take them back. She hadn't meant to criticize Papa. That wouldn't help, and she didn't want to make him feel badly about his lapses.

  But he didn't seem upset. "I probably should have called earlier," he admitted blithely, "but I didn't. You go on back to the courthouse right now if you want to, but it could turn out to be a wasted trip."

  "We'll get a cold drink," she mumbled. "Call me on my cell after you talk to the court house."

  "Why don't you just call me back in a little while? You know I hate those cell phones and all those modern gadgets."

  "But—" She started to protest that calling her on her cell would be no different on his end than if he called her on a land line. Instead she said, "Fine. I'll call you back in a little while."

  Kate disconnected the call and saw Luke standing beside her, holding two cold Cokes. She accepted one gratefully and took a long gulp, then reported the conversation with her father.

  "Are you sure that's what he said, that he just didn't do it?" Luke asked in amazement. "This whole situation isn't like Sheriff at all. He's always so conscientious about everything. Well, maybe not paperwork, but anything to do with getting the job done."

  No, Kate thought dismally, it isn't like him. At least, not like he used to be. "I'm sure that's what he said. Let's go inside where it's cool and finish our sodas."

  They went inside and stood to one side sipping their drinks, waiting for a little while to elapse.

  "What do you think?" Luke said. "Does this remind you of when we were kids and used to stop off in Clifton's Grocery after playing in the heat all day to get a cold soda?"

  Kate lifted her red can, turned it and studied it from all angles, then shook her head determinedly. "No," she said, pulling herself back from the brink of nostalgia that Luke was so good at taking her to. "Clifton's store was older. It had wooden shelves and a wooden counter. It smelled like bananas and apples and, in the summer, peaches and cantaloupes. This store is all steel and glass, and it smells like plastic."

  Luke grinned and shrugged and looked so darn good in that uniform, Kate could feel the temperature rising again even in the air-conditioned store.

  "Okay," he teased, "other than those few little things, I mean."

  She smiled in spite of herself. "I'm going to try Papa again."

  "Why don't you let me talk to him this time?"

  Why?

  Because Luke might find himself talking to a ghost, for one thing.

  However, so far Papa seemed to have been able to hide Mama's existence from everyone but her. When Luke was around, he never spoke of Mama in the present tense.

  What the heck, he was with Papa all day, every day. If Papa hadn't revealed his peculiarity by now, she supposed one phone call couldn't make much difference. She handed her phone to him, and he punched in the number, walking outside as he did so. That brought a smile to her face. Good cell phone manners. Better to sweat in the heat than have a phone conversation in a restaurant or even a convenience store.

  She gulped down the rest of her soda and tossed the can in the trash then went out to join him.

  Luke frowned. "Then we'll come home and drive back up here tomorrow."

  I
t sounded as though the papers wouldn't be ready in time and they'd have to make the trip again. Well, Luke knew the way now. He could come by himself tomorrow.

  "They what?" Luke's face flushed darkly and he ran a hand over the back of his neck. "No, I don't think that's a good idea....Well, sure, I understand, but...yes, but...I think you'd better talk to Katie."

  With a panic-stricken look that seemed out of place on his rugged face, he handed her the phone.

  "Papa? What's the problem?"

  "You were absolutely right. I should have called those folks earlier. They're real busy and they can't get those papers ready before the courthouse closes."

  "Then we'll pick them up tomorrow morning. Luke can come back to Dallas."

  "No, I wouldn't want him to go to all that trouble. I'm trying to work something out with a friend of mine there who says he might be able to stay a few minutes late and have what I need messengered over to your little apartment."

  "Condo," she corrected automatically.

  "Okay, your condo."

  "But we're not at my condo."

  "It would be a much nicer place for you to wait than where you are now. You must be outside. I can hear a lot of noise, cars honking. I can just see you standing there in that heat and those exhaust fumes, your backs hurting from all the walking you've done today. Your little apartment will be quiet and cool, and you'll have a comfortable place to sit."

  The idea of Luke and her alone in her condo was far too tantalizing. "Papa, I don't think—"

  "Why don't you and Luke pick up a couple of steaks and some potatoes on the way home so you won't have to leave in case the messenger doesn't get there for a couple of hours and you get hungry? We've made some mighty tasty steaks on that little grill of yours when I came to visit."

  She could feel her hand clutching the phone so tightly it hurt. This must have been the point at which Luke handed the phone to her, but she had nobody to pass it on to.

  "I don't think that's a good idea," she said.

  "Why not?"

  What could she say to that? There was certainly no reason Luke shouldn't go to her condo with her, grill steaks and wait for Papa's messenger. No reason except the way she felt every time she got close to him. No reason except the way he'd almost kissed her in the kitchen the other night. No reason except the dust devil of confusion swirling around in her own head.

  A car pulled up to the store.

  Someone got out and brushed past Luke and her to go inside.

  Someone else came out, got in a car and left.

  Papa waited patiently for her answer.

  "No reason," she finally said, pushing aside her absurd thoughts. She was an adult, and adults didn't have to act on every impulse they had. "I was just anxious to get home. To your home, I mean. But we'll go to my condo and wait for your messenger."

  "Thanks, Katie-girl. I really appreciate it. And don't forget those steaks. Charge them to the sheriff's office since you're on official business."

  Kate hung up the phone and turned to Luke, bracing herself as if she expected him to protest. Well, he was tired and ready to get back to Briar Creek, too. He probably would protest. "We're to go to my place to wait for someone to bring us the papers. And on the way, we're to pick up steaks and potatoes for dinner in case the messenger's late."

  Luke stared down at her for a long moment, his eyes narrowing and darkening until she could barely distinguish the pupil from the iris. Finally he nodded and looked away. "If that's what Sheriff wants us to do, as long as you've got air conditioning and something cold to drink, I guess we can do it."

  Of course they could. She was being silly to fret about it.

  Chapter Eleven

  They arrived at her place half an hour later.

  Luke managed to cram a couple more of the smaller boxes they'd purchased into his trunk, then lifted out the remaining two large boxes from the back seat.

  "I don't think we should leave them in a convertible even for an hour or so," he explained. "We could in Briar Creek, but not in Dallas."

  Katie picked up the bag of groceries and didn't argue with him. He was right.

  He locked the door, and they headed for the elevators in the middle of the small complex.

  "Nice place," he said as they reached the central courtyard with a swimming pool and landscaping. "I like the trees."

  "My unit's on the back side, overlooking a creek."

  They got on the elevator and Kate punched the third floor.

  See? she congratulated herself. The elevator was a tiny space, putting her only inches away from Luke, so close she could feel the heat of his body, smell the starch of his uniform, the dark scent of masculine power. All that and they weren't groping each other.

  Of course, on the practical side, any sort of groping would be pretty difficult while Luke held those two big boxes and she had a bag of groceries.

  He looked at her, his eyes dark and fathomless in the dim interior, and it seemed the heat radiating from his body intensified.

  The elevator dinged and came to a lurching halt.

  Kate bolted through the doors before they were completely open.

  "My unit's down this way," she called.

  Balancing the groceries on her hip, she unlocked the door and preceded Luke inside, turning on lights as she went. For a moment, she thought she detected a faint, lingering fragrance of lilacs, but that wasn't possible. Her room deodorizer was cinnamon scented.

  "Nice place," Luke repeated, setting the groceries on the breakfast bar and looking around.

  "That's what you said about the exterior."

  She could almost see her home through Luke's eyes and suspected he didn't really care for the contemporary furnishings, the off white carpet, the glass coffee table, the stark white sofa and chair with turquoise and purple patterned throw pillows, the matching swaths of fabric draped above the white mini-blinds.

  "And I meant it both times," he said.

  "It's very different from Papa's house and from yours."

  Luke laughed and drew a bottle of chilled white wine out of the bag. "Do you have a corkscrew?"

  Katie opened a kitchen drawer and handed the tool to him then took down two glasses while he worked on the cork.

  "Yeah, this is different from my house all right. You'll have to come over and see it some time. Just be sure and bring your own chair."

  "What?"

  "I don't have any furniture except a bed."

  For a second their eyes met as she wondered if he knew how suggestive that sounded.

  He looked away and poured the wine.

  Of course it didn't sound suggestive. Her hormones or guilty desire or something was working overtime.

  She picked up her glass of wine and started across the room. "The grill's on the balcony. I'll get the fire going."

  Luke followed her out and took the bag of charcoal from her. "I'll do it. I still remember when our Sunday school class went on a wiener roast and you caught the woods on fire."

  She laughed and relinquished the bag to him. "You're welcome to do the work, but you're not being completely fair. It was that flaming marshmallow that fell off my coat hanger into a pile of dead leaves that caused the problem. Could have happened to anybody."

  "It could have, but it didn't. According to Mrs. Oliver, you still have the dubious distinction of being the only person in Briar Creek to commit arson on a Sunday school picnic."

  Luke dumped charcoal onto the grill, and Kate walked to the edge of the balcony where the branches of a big elm tree had grown past the rail. She rubbed a leaf between her fingers, feeling the rough texture, then stood looking down at the creek below. The muffled noise of nearby traffic barely filtered through.

  "It's amazing what a few trees can do to clean up the air and noise that we humans produce," she said.

  The acrid smell of lighter fluid was followed by a soft whoosh and the smell of burning charcoal.

  Luke came over to stand beside her. "When you said you h
ad a condo fifteen minutes from downtown Dallas, I imagined something in a high rise, surrounded by parking lots and office buildings."

  "You're not far wrong. We're just a few blocks from some luxury high rise condos and office buildings on Turtle Creek. The Oak Lawn area—that's where we are—is an old section of Dallas that started out as wall to wall apartments for swinging singles and hippies during the sixties. It went downhill in the seventies then got converted to condos, quaint little shops and offices in the eighties. It's cozy here. You get to know your neighbors, just like in a small town."