THIRTY-FOUR
At first, Luke’s decision to stay in Pine River had caused a huge argument between him and his dad. When he realized he would not win, his father had said angrily, “You’re throwing your life away, just pissing away everything you’ve worked for.”
“Who says success is only in Denver? I’m going to pick up here, Dad. Family is more important to me.”
“Does anyone care what I think?” Leo asked.
“No!” Dad and Luke had both shouted in unison, then looked at each other in surprise and burst into laughter. That was the last time they’d spoken of Luke’s decision to stay in Pine River.
The next two months were a blur. Luke’s heart hurt too much most of the time, and he covered it up with activity and, on occasion, a whole lot of beer. He sold his houses to Stuart Homes at a loss, which he expected. But he sold his bungalow for much more than he’d anticipated, which gave him a little nest egg to start a new business. Together, with Jackson’s help, he and Dad had bought the little green house on Elm Street for dirt cheap. Luke added a larger living room, helped the Methodists add some wheelchair ramps, and was in the process of building a new master suite for his father. When that was finished, he would move off the couch and into his dad’s old room.
It was a warm afternoon when the van they used to cart Leo around broke down again. Luke and his father were working to fix it, Luke on his back beneath the old thing, fighting a bolt beneath the oil pan. His dad was somewhere up top, directing him. He heard his father speaking to someone, but his attention was on his work. “Dad!” he called. “I need a different wrench.”
When his father did not immediately answer, Luke turned his head. He saw a pair of hiking boots and some festive socks. Luke’s heart stopped beating for one crazy moment—he would know those hiking boots anywhere.
He slowly rolled out from beneath the van and looked up. Madeline was standing above him. Two thick dark braids hung over her shoulders. She was wearing a wool toboggan hat on her head, in spite of the warm temperatures. And she was smiling. A brilliantly warm, happy smile. “Hi, Luke,” she said.
“Maddie?”
“Yep. It’s me. I’m back.”
“Back… for what?”
She laughed. “For good!”
A small surge of hope shimmied down his spine. Was it possible? Could she have really come back for good? Luke stood up, dropped his wrench.
“I’ll go check on the genius,” his dad said, and stooped to pick up the wrench as he moved away from the van.
Luke hardly noticed; he was eyeing Madeline suspiciously. “What do you mean, for good?”
She laughed again, that deep laugh he’d once heard from her in his house in Denver. “I mean, I left Orlando in my rearview mirror. My new rearview mirror. Well, new to me, anyway. It’s not a Pontiac, but it got the job done.”
He followed her gaze, saw a Chevy Tahoe parked at the end of the drive. He could see the back of it was completely stuffed with things, and his heart skipped a beat or two on its way to racing. She wasn’t kidding—she really had come back. “You drove here?” he asked incredulously.
“Yep.” She rose up on her toes, clearly proud of herself, then settled back down and locked her blue eyes on him, blue eyes he had seen over and over again in his dreams and his thoughts. “How are you?”
He was an empty, working machine, that’s was how he was. He had taken a painful heartbreak and had turned it into physical labor, the only thing he knew to do and the only thing that could drown out his thoughts and numb his pain. But to Madeline, he shrugged and said, “Okay.”
Her eyes narrowed on his. “You haven’t done anything drastic have you… like get married?”
“No.”
“Girlfriend?”
He smiled. “No. You?”
She smiled, too. “No girlfriends or boyfriends. I’ve only got one person on my mind, and he is standing in front of me.”
The hope beating in his veins, picking up steam. “Is that right?”
Her eyes were sparkling with happiness in a way he’d never seen in her. She looked different to him—more relaxed. That was it, he thought. He didn’t see the worry, the anxiety around her eyes, and he realized that she was happy. He also realized he’d not really seen this side of her. “What’s going on here?” he asked.
“Well,” she said airily, “I don’t know how to put it, exactly, other than I have determined that my talents fit another game altogether.”
“What?”
She laughed at his utter confusion. “I’m not going to play baseball anymore, I am going to play football.”
That explanation did not help, and she beamed at him as she slipped her hand into his. “I love you, Luke. I love you so much,” she said, and pressed a free hand to her heart, almost as if to contain it. “I’ve thought of only you—well, and the mistakes I made, which were a lot, and how much I hurt you, which makes me sick to think about. But… my feelings haven’t changed. I still love you so much, and I am not going to run anymore. From you or from anyone. I’m staying put, right here in Pine River.”
“Maddie—”
“Wait, wait, before you say anything! I know that I’m taking a chance here. I know that you may not feel that way about me, and I am ready to accept that. But I would not be true to myself and my new outlook if I didn’t tell you exactly how I feel. So, Luke, I am telling you that I love you more than I have ever loved anyone in my life, or ever will love anyone again, and whatever happens, I wish you much, much happiness in this life.”
Luke was momentarily stunned into speechlessness. After dwelling on what he’d lost when Madeline had gone back to Orlando, he’d finally pushed down all those emotions, along with the love he’d felt for her, into a tight little ball. He squinted at her, unsure if he could trust her or not, unsure if he could allow that ball to uncoil and set those emotions free again. “So what are you saying?” he asked. “That you want to get back together?”
Madeline laughed. She gripped his hand tightly, and like he’d done once, lifted it to her mouth and kissed his knuckles. “I’m asking you to marry me, Luke Kendrick. But I will settle for getting back together, openly and proudly. I mean, if you will have me.”
The ball exploded. Everything Luke had ever felt for this woman unfurled, filling him up. He couldn’t believe this was happening, that at long last, someone was doing something for him, giving him what he needed. That Madeline had somehow found her footing and had leaped off the cliff into life. He couldn’t believe how much he needed her, and with a fierceness that he’d never felt for another person. Nothing had changed for him—he still needed her beside him as he faced the uncertainties of the future. He needed her in his bed, at his table, and bearing his children.
Luke suddenly grabbed her up in his arms, pressed her cheek against his shoulder, closed his eyes and let the moment seep into him. “Yes,” he said. “Yes. I love you, Maddie. I always did. And I never stopped.”
She gasped with delight and lifted her head. “Really?”
“Are you kidding? Really.”
“Even when you knew how crazy I was?”
“Don’t remind me and ruin the moment—but yeah, even then.”
Madeline threw her arms around his neck, kissed his face, his mouth. “Thank God,” she sighed into his ear. “Thank you God.”
He pulled the cap off her head, closed his eyes, and buried his face in her neck. She smelled like lilacs.
He really liked lilacs.