TWENTY
Luke’s day in Denver was not what he’d call a towering success.
The first thing he did when he arrived was to drive to his little two-bedroom bungalow in an older part of Denver. He’d bought the rundown piece of crap and had restored it with some money his mom had left him. Since then, the market had come up. Luke liked knowing that if anything ever happened, he had some equity in this house. Anything, like needing an attorney. The equity in his house was what he planned to use to fight the loss of Homecoming Ranch.
But before he spoke to an attorney, Luke had to see about his housing starts. He left the Bronco, switched to his work truck, and drove to the outskirts of Denver to check on the first three Kendrick Custom Homes. With the help of Stuart Homes, where he’d apprenticed the last few years, and who owned a minority share in his business, Luke had purchased three lots in a new subdivision. It had taken some time to get the deeds and permits set up, but in the last month, they had finished the site prep, had poured three slabs, and if all had gone well last week, the framing would have begun by now.
As he turned the corner onto Mountain View Street, he grinned at the sight before him. The framing on the first house looked almost complete.
He parked his work truck, hopped out. Refugio, the crew boss, met him on the sidewalk, and together, they walked through the framing so Luke could have a look. Satisfied that things were moving along, Luke was headed back to his truck when he saw Ben Stuart’s king cab pickup truck glide to a halt next to the curb. Ben emerged with a wave for Luke. “Hey buddy!” he said cheerfully. “I wondered when you’d be back.”
“I’m here today,” Luke said. “Framework looks good.”
Ben nodded, then looked back at Luke. “What do you mean, you’re here today? Your dad’s okay, right?”
Luke had told Ben that something had come up with his dad, but he hadn’t explained what. “Dad’s okay,” Luke assured him. “He just needs some help with a couple of things.”
Ben looked at Luke expectantly, wanting more.
Luke glanced at the two empty slabs. “Refugio said he could start framing this one next week.” He glanced at Ben. “But I need to go back home for a week or two.”
Ben’s pleasant expression began to fade. “One week? Or two?”
Honestly, Luke didn’t know long he’d be. He still didn’t know exactly what he was doing in Pine River, other than trying to stick his fingers into a bunch of little holes in the dyke.
Ben guessed as much and groaned. “Come on, man! You have three starts, Luke. Three. Someone’s gotta be here to manage it. These houses are clear across town from where I’m working right now.”
“I know,” Luke said apologetically. “I know the timing is bad. I know it’s a pain in the ass. But right now, my dad’s in kind of a bind, and I need to be there. No more than a couple of weeks,” he assured Ben, and sent up a little bit of begging to the heavens that what he was saying was true. He’d worked too hard for this opportunity to let it slip through his fingers, and the way things were going, he would never have the scratch to do this on his own. He needed Stuart Homes, needed them more than Ben would ever know. “Believe me, I don’t want to be in Pine River any more than you want me gone. I’ll come in and check at least once a week.”
Ben frowned. He glanced back at the men across the street hammering on the house frame. “Okay, Luke. I’ll cover you for a couple of weeks. But I can’t cover these houses forever—I’ve got my own work, and my wife is on my ass about the hours I keep as it is.”
“I’m sorry, Ben.”
“Yeah, well, sorry isn’t going to cut it in a couple of weeks, okay? This was all about giving you a leg up, Luke,” he said, gesturing to the housing pads. “We had this trouble with you last fall, always off to Pine River. We haven’t even finished the first frame and you’re doing it again.”
“Come on, Ben,” Luke said coolly. “It’s not like I planned this. It’s not like I haven’t thought of every option and tried to come up with a better one. But you know the situation with my brother. I’m all my dad has.”
That seemed to soften Ben a little. He nodded, turned his head and spit. “Yeah, I know. You’ve got a lot of talent, Luke. But maybe you ought to be using that talent in Pine River.”
“There’s no market for custom homes up there,” Luke said.
Ben nodded. “Okay. Two weeks.”
“Thanks, man,” Luke said. He didn’t tell Ben that not only was there no market in Pine River, but that he needed distance from Pine River. He needed time to himself, away from the constant pressure of disease and financial trouble.
Luke’s day only got worse when he showed up at the door of his economic professor, who held once-a-week open office hours. Professor Whitehall was less friendly than Ben. “Mr. Kendrick,” he said, looking at Luke over the tops of his glasses, “I thought you had withdrawn from school.”
It went downhill from there. Luke had missed too many classes. Professor Whitehall told him that he didn’t know if it was possible for Luke to catch up, but that he had one opportunity in the form of a test the following week. A test that covered material Luke had not even read yet.
His last stop before picking up Madeline was with the attorney Jackson had pointed him to. Dan Broadstreet was a big guy who wore a bolero tie and a short-sleeved shirt. He took Luke’s hand in his beefy one, shook it vigorously, and then invited him into a conference room. He had a pad of yellow legal paper and pencil, but he made only one note as Luke explained the situation to him.
“This is a bad deal. We might be able to argue coercion or something like it, and at least keep a sale tied up long enough that any potential buyer walks away. That way, you’d have time to get the money together to buy it,” he advised. “But there’s really nothing to fight. If you do, you won’t win. The laws around real estate protect the buyer. Even dead ones.”
In essence, Luke had to make his new company work in order to generate enough money to buy back the ranch. Because any other money he had would go toward tying up a potential sale, prolonging it long enough to give him time to raise the money—money he was in danger of losing because he kept getting called back to Pine River. It was a desperate circle.
When Luke came out of the attorney’s office, he noticed that clouds had moved in over Denver, thick and gray, hanging low. The temperature had dropped ten to fifteen degrees.
Madeline was waiting for him at the Economy car lot, shivering in a little sweater that tied up under her breasts and a turquoise sundress with yellow sunflowers dancing around the hem. She had a small bag that hung across her body, looped over her shoulder. And she was holding two bags from Target.
After the day he’d had, it made him strangely happy to see her.
He pulled up alongside the curb and lowered the passenger window of his truck. “Everything squared away?”
She looked slightly taken aback by his question, which he thought was a little odd, but then she smiled and the dimples appeared again. “I think so. Are you ready?”
“I am. Climb in.”
She opened the door, slung her Target bags behind the passenger seat, and climbed up, leaning over just enough to give Luke a nice view of her cleavage. She pulled the door shut behind her and folded her arms tightly across her and looked at him. “I’m freezing.”
Luke turned on the heat. “We have to swing by my house and get the Bronco, if that’s okay.”
“Sure!” She huddled forward, her legs pressed together, her feet still in the hiking boots, but today, thick socks were pulled up to her knees. Her dark hair had been whipped by the wind, and spilled across her back in an appealing tangle of silky strands. “The clouds came from nowhere,” she said. “I was so busy, I didn’t even notice them.”
“Did you finish what you needed to do?”
She smiled at him. “I got a lot done. I love days like this when I can tick off my tasks, one by one. What about you?”
“I guess I did what I needed to do,” he said, pulling into traffic. He didn’t care to elaborate. He was trying to forget it. “I don’t feel like I left anything hanging, anyway.”
“See? Organization. You don’t know for sure, whereas I know I don’t have anything left, because I made a list.”
“And I bet you highlighted the tasks as you finished them.”
Madeline laughed. “Am I that obvious?”
She was so pretty when she laughed that he couldn’t help but smile back. “A little.”
“You’re obvious, too, Luke Kendrick,” she said. “I bet you think no one can read you.”
“Of course no one can read me,” he said confidently. “I’m a guy. We are trained from an early age.”
“I knew it!” she cried triumphantly. “And I bet you are one of those guys who shows up to work and looks around and thinks, I should do that,” she said pointing into space. “And maybe that. And maybe that if I have time before lunch, but if I don’t, oh well, I’ll get to it one of these days.”
Now Luke laughed outright. “Construction does not lend itself to tidy little tasks, Maddie. My days are spent keeping lids on boiling pots.”
“And you think selling houses doesn’t have pots?” She snorted at that, and dug one of the Target bags out from behind the seat. She was jubilant as she paused to examine the sack’s contents.
“So in all that highlighting, you still had time for a little shopping?”
“No. I made time to pick up a few things I need.” She gave him a pert smile. “Important things, like underwear,” she said gravely. “And lotion. I’m turning into an alligator.”
It sure didn’t look like that from where Luke was sitting.
Madeline peered into her bag. “I picked up some extra socks, too. My feet have been so cold. Oh, and this,” she said, and pulled out a bear whistle. A cheap, souvenir-type bear whistle that wouldn’t be useful in any situation, except maybe calling a well-trained dog. But Madeline draped it around her neck, and the thing nestled between two mounds of cream. She looked so proud of herself that he didn’t have the heart to tell her that her purchase was useless at Homecoming Ranch.
“And some hair thingies.”
“Can’t have enough hair thingies,” he said.
“You really can’t,” she agreed, and chatted about her day until he pulled into the drive of his house.
Only then did Madeline stop talking. She squinted at his bungalow, which he’d painted a sunny yellow with white trim. “Wow,” she said approvingly. “Great curb appeal.”
“I should hope so. I’ve spent a lot of time landscaping.” He opened the driver door. “I just need to grab a couple of things.”
“Mind if I look inside?” she asked, her hand on the door handle. Luke hesitated, but she quickly added, “I like houses, I really do. I just want to see.”
“I can’t vouch for how clean it is.”
“I won’t judge,” she said with a smile, and hopped out of the truck. The wind had picked up; she cried out with alarm. “It’s freezing!” she shouted, and darted for the front door, the hem of her dress kicking up behind her, revealing some very shapely hamstrings.
Hamstrings. Luke was admiring a woman’s hamstrings. He told himself to reel it in, to stop looking at dimples and hamstrings and the way bear whistles rested between two very excellent breasts. He walked up behind her, reached around, unlocked the door and pushed it open. Madeline hopped inside like a bird, with her arms wrapped tightly around her.
Just inside the door, Luke pulled one of his flannel jackets off a hook. “Here. You’re making me cold just looking at you.”
“Thank you,” she said gratefully, and slipped into it. “I’m going to have all your jackets at this rate.” The jacket dwarfed her, but she sighed with delight. “Heaven,” she said. She glanced around, her gaze looking up, to the crown molding, and then down, to the hardwoods and window casings Luke had put in himself. He’d painted the living room sea green. It was the color he remembered the ocean to be when he and Leo and his parents had vacationed in California many years ago.
“Wow,” Madeline said, slowly turning in a circle, nodding appreciatively. “This place is nice. Did you do it?”
“I did.”
“While you were in school?”
He nodded. While he was in school, while he was working. He’d found that he didn’t have to think about troubles at home if he kept himself occupied every moment of every day.
“It’s gorgeous, Luke.” She moved forward, leaning through the doorway to peer into the adjoining kitchen. “Oh, wow, completely upgraded. You did it all by yourself?”
“All by myself.”
She turned around and beamed at him. “It’s really fantastic. You could make a fortune in Orlando. I—” Her cell phone rang, startling her. Madeline fished her phone from the little purse that hung around her neck. “Oh,” she said, looking at the number. “Excuse me,” she said to Luke, then answered the phone with a “Bree? Is everything okay? It’s after hours there—”
Whatever Bree said caused Madeline to gasp. “You’re kidding,” she said flatly. “Are you kidding?” She suddenly let out a shriek to Luke’s ceiling and did a fist pump. “That’s fabulous!” She pulled the phone away from her mouth and said to Luke, “I got an offer on the DiNapoli property!” She followed that with a bit of a Snoopy dance, then put the phone to her head again. “Okay, lay it on me. What’s the offer?”
Whatever Bree said dimmed Madeline’s smile a little. She stood up a little straighter. “Okay,” she said, nodding. “Okay. We can work with that. I mean, yes, it’s a million less than what Mr. DiNapoli wanted, but he has to be reasonable. Give me something to sweeten the pot—how soon can they close?”
She nodded as Bree talked, her brow furrowed in concentration. “Fabulous,” she said. “Who’s the realtor? Andy Griggs! Gah,” she groaned, bending backward. “Okay, all right, so I will call and present the offer to Mr. DiNapoli and give Andy a call. Great. Thank you, Bree! Thank you! And wish me luck!” She hung up the phone and looked at Luke. She seemed almost to levitate off the floor. “I have an offer. Granted, it’s a lowball offer, but still, it’s an offer!” She squealed again, then took a deep breath, and another, and punched in the number of the seller.
“Mr. DiNapoli!” she said brightly when the client answered, and whirled around, her back to Luke. “Hi! It’s Madeline Pruett, and I have great news.” She walked into the kitchen, talking very quickly, laying out the offer.
Luke could tell from the way her hand curled into a little fist and how fast she began to speak that DiNapoli didn’t like the offer. But he had to hand it to her, Madeline was selling it. It was as if she had compiled a mental list of all the reasons why this was a great deal for the seller, and she was rolling through them, one by one, marking them off. Luke walked to the front windows and looked out while she talked. The sky to the north was so black that it almost looked green. They needed to leave now, or risk getting caught in what looked like would be one very ugly storm.
“Just think about it,” he heard Madeline say. “We will counter, and if it’s the statuary you feel is undervalued, maybe we can talk about removing that—Yes, I understand that you built the house around the art. But, Mr. DiNapoli, I’ll be frank. You’ve had the house on the market for two years. Perhaps you should consider the idea that not everyone appreciates the sophistication of your artistry, you know? I mean, if you think about it, most people aren’t exposed to the kind of art education you’ve had.… Okay, great. I’ll wait to hear from you, then. But we could close this deal tonight. Just saying. All right.”
She clicked off and turned around, her expression exuberant. “He’s going to consider it. He’s actually considering it! Oh my God, I may sell that ugly pile of stones!” She threw her arms in the air in victory.
Luke grinned at her happiness. “That’s great news, Maddie. I’m happy for you. Listen, we better get going before the weather moves in—”
“What? No!” she cried. “No, no, I can’t risk losing reception in the mountains on the biggest deal of my life! No, Luke, I have to stay put until he calls.”
“We don’t want to be driving across Sometimes Pass at night and in the middle of a really bad storm.”
“Please, Luke,” she said. “This is a really big deal for me.”
It was impossible to say no to that pretty face with the dancing blue eyes. “Okay,” he said, and Madeline made that little sound of happiness again.
“Okay, give me two secs. I have to call Trudi. And my mom,” she said, and punched her phone again.
Luke decided to build a small fire to warm the living room, and went about that as he listened to her chatter to the person named Trudi, who was, judging by the talk, a very close friend. He heard Madeline say in the course of the conversation that she was getting another call. He stepped outside for more wood—the wind was horrible now, bending the old elm in the backyard—and when he stepped back in, he realized she was speaking to Mr. DiNapoli.
“That’s great,” she said, sounding almost breathless. “You won’t be sorry, Mr. DiNapoli. I am sure your beach house will be stunning with the statuary… Well, your wife didn’t want it in Orlando, either, as I recall, so I am sure you can convince her again.”
Luke could hear Mr. DiNapoli’s deep voice on the other end of her cell, rattling on about Greece or something.
“Okay, well, I better get hold of the buyer’s realtor and present the counter. Don’t want them to get cold feet!” A few moments later, Luke heard her say, “Hello, Andy.” Her voice had changed completely; it was low and professional. The voice of the Madeline who had shown up at Homecoming Ranch the first day.
“Madeline Pruett here. Thank you for the offer on the DiNapoli property—what? I’ve had the listing several months. Why?” A moment later, she said, not as smoothly, “Oh spare me, Andy. He’s not going to give it away… Yes, I have a counter.” She marched into Luke’s kitchen, her boots clumping on the wood floors, and told him what DiNapoli would accept. “Hey! That’s not nice. He is a very nice man, and he’s going to put the statuary out in his beach house. So are you going to present the counter to your client? What do you mean, they won’t take it?”
Luke helped himself to a beer and perched on a barstool, enjoying the wrangling between Madeline and the Griggs guy. Madeline was a persistent woman—she laid out every conceivable selling point, down to the superior quality of the stone in the garage. In the end, it must have been enough to convince the other guy, because when she hung up, she whirled around and said, “He’s buying in to the counter offer. I think. Maybe.” She beamed at Luke.
Her announcement was punctuated by a peel of thunder over their heads. Madeline jumped; she looked at her phone. “Don’t lose a signal now, please, please, don’t lose a signal.”
Rain began to pelt Luke’s little house, and quickly turned into heavy, gray sheets. Madeline beat a steady rhythm on the back of a chair with her fist, staring at her phone. “Hey,” Luke said. “Take a breath. You’re about to make the biggest deal of your life.”
Her eyes sparked with delight; she grinned. “Do you know how long I’ve been trying to sell this house? When I think of the open houses, the events, the advertising! Everyone in real estate in Orlando laughed when I took that listing. Especially Andy Griggs, so of course it would be him to call with a lowball offer, but that’s okay, I can deal with him. I mean, we countered with half a million off the asking price. A half million! I practically had to tie Mr. DiNapoli down and get him to agree to list the place for three and a half million, which I can assure you is way over market. So to get him to come down—and someone to offer! Sometimes, people don’t care about price, they only care about location or amenities, and they—”
Her phone rang.
Madeline gasped. She stared at her phone. “It’s Andy.” The phone rang again. “What if they don’t take it? What if I have to keep that stupid listing?”
“Maddie… answer it,” Luke said calmly.
“Right.” She answered the phone, sliding into a professional voice. “Hi, Andy. What’s up?”
She traced a finger along the edge of his table. “Mm-hm,” she said, “Okay.” She paused, her hand coming to a halt on the table. “That’s great. Your clients will be very happy.… Thank you, Andy! No, I can’t get a drink to celebrate,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “I’ll have Bree draw up the paperwork and get it over to you first thing.” She paused. And then she said softly, “Seriously—thank you, Andy.” She hung up the phone. She whirled around as another crack of thunder rattled the windows. She threw her hands up in the air, bent backward and laughed. It was not a chuckle, not even a chortle. Madeline’s laugh was deep, from the belly. It was a laugh of pure joy, of happiness.
“I sold it, Luke!” she cried. “I sold that sorry piece of expensive shit!” She suddenly threw her arms around him and did a little quickstep to one side, then the other, hugging him. Luke managed to hang on to his chair. He also managed to catch the scent of her hair. It reminded him of the lilac trees that grew in his mother’s garden.
Just as suddenly, Madeline let go. “Do you know what this means?” she cried, and punched him in the arm. “It means I’m going to make a huge commission!” She gasped. “Oh my God, I am! And it means people will have to take me seriously! Oh! I almost forgot! I have to call Mr. DiNapoli!” She grabbed up her phone, punching the Call Return button as she walked out of the kitchen, away from Luke, her smile radiant, her eyes brilliant.
Luke stood up from the bar and turned around to the window. He stared at the deluge of rain, hardly seeing it. He didn’t really hear Madeline in the other room, talking about closing dates.
He was thinking about lilacs. He really liked lilacs. He had no idea until this moment just how much he liked lilacs.