Linda Style - Husband and Wife Reunion

“Good.” Luke scraped off a plate and handed it to her.

“He said Abe should come in for a checkup.”

Luke gave a dry laugh. “I don’t have to guess what the old coot’s response to that was, do I?”

“Right. But I think someone really needs to make sure he goes. He hasn’t seemed like himself since I got here.”

Luke leaned on the counter, watching as she finished up. She felt sweaty all of a sudden, unnerved to have him so close. It seemed odd that they were talking about Abe as if they were still married.

“If you could work some of your magic to get him to agree, I’d be indebted,” he said.

The soft plea in his eyes touched her. She put the last cup into the dishwasher, added soap, pushed the button and started the machine. “I’ll see what I can do. But right now, I’ve got work to do.”

Luke’s gaze followed as Jules walked away. She’d seemed nervous—as if she couldn’t wait to get away from him. If he didn’t know better, he might think… But hell, she was probably worried that he was going to ask again why she was there. And truth was, if she hadn’t left, he would’ve.

Repeatedly asking the same question was one way to wear someone down. He did it with suspects all the time when he thought they weren’t being truthful. While Jules might not be lying, something was definitely wrong. She jumped out of her skin every time the phone rang.

Walking into the living room, he heard the kitchen door slap shut. His dad coming back inside. Abe had said he was going to bed, and though it seemed early for that, his father’d had a busy day what with the fence and the doctor and all. Luke felt tired, too, but he knew it was more mental exhaustion than physical.

As he reached the worn-out couch, its worst parts covered with a red-and-blue Southwestern serape blanket, he inhaled the familiar scent, a mixture of cigarettes, Old Spice and old man. He glanced around. Nothing had changed. Nothing in the house and nothing with Abe.

Though he’d come here with the idea of smoothing out his relationship with his dad, he could see now it was a bad idea. Abe was too set in his ways. More importantly, his dad didn’t care about mending anything between them. And now, in addition to finding hired help, he had to get Abe in for a physical.

He couldn’t leave until he had those two things under his belt. He hoped Jules would help. She was good at getting people to do things without them realizing it.

An image of Jules immediately popped into his head. An image of how she looked today, not the one he’d carried for the past five years. She looked more mature, more comfortable in her own skin, and she was every bit as beautiful as he remembered. Just watching her had made his blood run hot…made him remember what it was like to feel something.

Something other than duty and responsibility.

And Jules was the last person he should be thinking about like that. He reached for a magazine. The Achilles’ Heel. What the hell. Reading might get his mind on something else. He flipped it open. The title of the article practically leaped off the page. “Missing.”

He read a couple paragraphs. Turned the page. What the—the story was about a little girl who’d been abducted fifteen years ago in Los Angeles. Renata Willis. He tossed the magazine on the pile and picked up another. Another story with the same theme, but a different child.

Anger rose from the dark well inside him, the place where he’d buried his feelings. How long had she been doing this? A sharp, heart-stabbing pain drove into his chest.

How could she!

SOMETHING WAS WRONG. Luke had kept his distance all day, barely grunting when Julianna or his father asked a question. Would he like coffee? Grunt. Aren’t you going to have breakfast? At least that one had gotten a grumble that she thought was a “No thanks. Gotta get to work.”

He’d left immediately and, since he’d been gone all day, Julianna suspected he’d long since finished the fence. “He can’t still be working, can he?” she asked Abe as they finished up dinner. “It’s getting dark.”

“Luke can take care of himself.”

“I know he can, Abe. But for him to be gone so long, something could’ve happened. Aren’t you worried just a little? Curious maybe?”

“Nope. I learned a long time ago that Luke doesn’t need anyone to worry about him.” He glanced at her from under his brows. “And I think you seem more worried than necessary.”

Julianna stared at him in surprise. Abe never talked about anything personal. Never once had he mentioned the divorce. “I don’t know what you mean.”

As he smiled, the crevices in his face deepened and she saw a glint in his faded blue eyes. Eyes that reminded her vaguely of Luke’s. “You know what I mean.” He rose from the chair and then raised his hands in the air. “But then I’m an old man and you probably think I don’t know what it’s like to be in love.”

She did a double take. “I…I’m not…there’s nothing—”

“It’s okay. No need to explain.”

Sheesh! What did Abe think? That she’d been pining away for Luke for five years?

JUST AS LUKE WAS finishing up the fence, he heard a noise behind him and turned to see Stella Hancock astride a pinto that looked as old as she was.

“Hello, Luke.”

He tipped his Stetson. “Mrs. Hancock.”

“How are you? It’s been a long time.”

Luke drew a breath, then shifted his stance, feet apart, arms crossed. “I’m fine.” He didn’t ask how she was and instead said, “I’m surprised to see you out here. You ride out very often?”

She smiled and the fine wrinkles around her eyes fanned out. For a woman who’d spent most of her life on a ranch, she’d aged gracefully. Most ranch women were well weathered by the time they were forty.

“No, I came because I heard you were fixing the fence and I wanted to know how Abraham is doing?”

When he didn’t answer right away, she added, “I saw your wi—Julianna at the grocery store yesterday. She told me your father had hurt his hand.”

Luke looked away. Jules had met the Hancock woman once when they’d come to visit when they were first married, and she’d been impressed that Stella had run her own ranch after her husband passed away. Luke didn’t think it was a big deal, not when you had her money. She might run the place, but other people did the work.

Coughing, Luke grated out, “He had a couple stitches, that’s all.”

“The last time I saw him in town he didn’t look well.”

Annoyed that he was even talking to this woman about his father, this woman who’d— Luke stared at her, willing her to get the drift and go away. “I’ll take care of whatever is bothering my father.”

He saw her wince a little, but she quickly recovered, then said, “That’s good to hear. He needs someone right now.” Then she pulled on the reins, made a clicking sound and rode away.

What did she mean by that? And how did she know what his father did or didn’t need? As far as Luke knew, she and his father hadn’t had any contact for years. Maybe he was wrong?

Climbing onto Balboa again, he took a minute to survey the land, a vast span of nature at its best. Just east of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains, the landscape was made up of rolling hills and piñon pine. Mountains and streams surrounded the valley and as a kid, Luke had always thought he lived in a magical place, a utopian paradise. What did he know?

His mother had loved it here and he remembered riding with her often, to picnic or fish or just to soak up the scenery. The land reminded Luke of her. Beautiful in its simplicity, yet strong enough to withstand the elements.

In the end, cancer had taken his mother at too young an age. But she’d seemed at peace with herself. Unlike him, her faith had held her in good stead. He’d gone the other way, damning whatever forces had taken her from him so soon. And then later, took Michael. And Julianna. If there was a God, he wasn’t doing his job.