A Place Called Home (24 page)

Luke tied his horse in front of Mark's place and knocked on the door. Mark answered and led Luke wordlessly into his office.

“Al Buelow came over today to tell me a hotel guest was hurt. The man's arm was burned. The sheriff questioned him and he found a burned overcoat and some kerosene hidden in the man's closet. The sheriff plans to hold him until he can get word to and a reply from Spooner.”

Luke reeled under the weight of the news. He leaned against the wall, feeling as if the pins had been knocked out from under him.

Mark let Luke catch his breath before saying, “I don't know how to tell Christine without upsetting her.”

“We won't tell her,” Luke replied after some moments.

“What?”

“I said we won't tell her,” Luke repeated calmly.

“Luke, that's not fair. She has a right to know.”

“It will only frighten her. Anyway, the man is in custody. It's over now.”

“Luke, it's not over. Christine is not dead and I'm sure whoever wants her that way will not give up so easily.” Mark knew the words were harsh, but he could see the need to be blunt.

“I'll be here to take care of her.”

“Luke, be reasonable. Even if you two were married, you wouldn't be with her all the time. She needs to know about this so she can be on her guard and less vulnerable. She's not a little girl, Luke. We can't protect and treat her like one.”

Mark continued on in his argument, but Luke was adamant. Mark even considered going to Christine himself, but put the idea away when he saw how single-minded Luke was to keep the information from her. He watched his brother leave, a heavy feeling in Mark's heart.

The ride to his grandmother's house was short, but in that span Luke was even more determined to keep the recent developments from Christine and to proceed as he hoped. By the time Luke arrived and found his grandmother in the kitchen, he had nearly succeeded in pushing the barn fire from his mind.

“I found this on Christine's bedside table when I checked on her.” Grandma Em handed him the note.

Grandma Em, please wake me if Luke comes.

Don't let him leave.

“Is she awake yet?” Luke asked, still holding the note.

“I don't think so. It's pretty quiet up there.”

Luke began to pace. “Was she upset? Did she tell you why she had to see me?”

Grandma Em opened her mouth to answer when they both heard a sneeze. Luke gave his grandmother a small smile and walked with a determined stride up to Christine's room.

The room was chilly and Christine was settled back against the pillow, the quilts tucked in tight around her. She heard
someone on the stairs and watched as Luke came in. He was without a doubt a man with a purpose.

Not a word was spoken as Luke moved the desk chair to the head of the bed and leaned close to Christine, much like yesterday.

“I've done a lot of thinking since yesterday, Christine. I was insensitive to your needs and I'm sorry.” Luke leaned a bit closer, his voice almost urgent. “I realized after I left yesterday that we've had almost no time together.” Luke hesitated, knowing it was too soon to tell her he loved her.

“I care deeply for you, Christine. And I want you to stay in Baxter. Stay and give us time to get to know each other. I can't believe how little I know about you. We've both lost our parents and I think we have a lot to share. Please stay, Christine; give us a chance.”

A tiny bubble of laughter, in contrast with the tears sparkling in her eyes, sounded from Christine's throat. “I had the same speech planned for you.”

“You mean about staying in Baxter and getting to know each other?”

Christine gave him a happy nod. Luke's laughter sounded through the upstairs and Christine joined him. Their relief was more precious because they had both asked for God's guidance.

Christine touched Luke's arm. “I need to say something else. I'm sorry about the way I acted yesterday. I've never been a good patient.”

“Oh, really! I hadn't noticed.” Christine bit her lip in an effort to keep from smiling, knowing that if she did he would only be encouraged to tease her more.

When Christine asked Luke to give her a few minutes alone he left the room, shutting the door behind him, and waited in the hall. Supper aromas were drifting up the stairs, and he
decided that he and Grandma Em should bring their plates up and eat with Christine.

“All set!” Luke turned in surprise at Christine's voice as she came out into the hall, dressed and wrapped in a quilt. She smiled at him as she moved toward the stairs. “I'm starved.” Christine spoke again and was partway down the stairs before she realized that Luke had not followed.

Christine stopped and spoke without turning, “I'm fine, Luke. My throat doesn't hurt, and if I have to stay in that bed another minute I'll go out of my mind.” Christine was relieved when she heard Luke move onto the steps behind her.

His presence was so comforting. She had to stop herself from leaning into him as he reached her on the stairs and put his hand on her back to guide her to the parlor.

“I rather thought I'd see you down here tonight, Christine.” Grandma Em's eyes twinkled with mischief as she kissed Christine's cheek. “Your room is lovely, but 24 hours a day gets to be a bit much.”

Grandma Em went back to the stove. Christine put her quilt on a chair, intending to follow. She had only stepped twice before she felt the quilt drop back onto her shoulders and Luke's hands guide her to a seat.

“I need to help,” she protested after he had sat her down.

“I'll help her.”

“Luke, I can't just sit here.”

“Yes, you can.” Christine heard the words correctly but knew that his look and tone were really saying, “You had better.”

Luke, who was bent over Christine to talk quietly into her upturned face, saw the exact moment she gave in. His knuckles brushed feather-lightly down her cheek before he moved to aid his grandmother.

Christine's earlier statement of being starved had not been far from the truth. She filled her plate twice and had two pieces of pie.

“That was delicious.” Christine sat back with a sigh.

“Did you think I had forgotten how to cook?” Grandma Em asked with feigned indignation.

“No!” Christine laughed.

“Well, the truth is, you do have me pretty spoiled.”

“What I'd really like to do is spoil you some more by doing the dishes. But,” Christine continued quickly as Luke began to protest, “your grandson has other ideas. So I'm headed to the parlor so I won't have to watch you work.”

After Christine left, Luke began to gather the plates, but Grandma Em waved him away. “I can get them, Luke. Go sit with Christine.”

Luke, much to his grandmother's amusement, didn't even hesitate. He found Christine curled up on the couch and he joined her.

“Are you warm enough?”

Christine nodded in contentment, willing to just sit with Luke in comfortable silence. She was feeling tired and Luke also was content to just be near her.

As the silence between them continued, Luke grew pensive. His thoughts were turning bleak before he realized that Christine had leaned forward and was looking into his face.

“Did I cause that scowl?”

“No.” Luke reined his thoughts in and smiled into Christine's eyes. Christine realized she was leaning rather close. Hastily she sat back and began to nervously pleat the quilt in her lap. “Tell me about your ranch.” Christine spoke, wishing she couldn't feel his eyes on her.

“No.”

“What!” Christine felt a bit taken aback at his abrupt answer.

“I said no, because I want you to come and see the ranch. Next Friday.”

“I'll have to check with Grandma Em.” Christine smiled with relief. “But I'd love to.”

The next few hours flew by. Grandma Em finished the dishes and the three sat in the parlor. Talk moved rapidly from one subject to the next.

When Luke was ready to leave, Christine walked him to the door. With his coat and hat on, he leaned against the door and took Christine's hand.

“I won't see you tomorrow. But,” he said with mock sternness, “I expect to hear that you rested and took it easy when I get here Sunday.” He pointed a finger at her. “Do I make myself clear, Christine Bennett?”

“Yes, sir!” Christine spoke with exaggerated sweetness.

Luke only groaned and rolled his eyes, knowing she would do exactly as she pleased. This groan brought a smile to Christine's face.

Suddenly Christine knew she was about to be kissed. She couldn't stop the tensing in her body, the clenching of her hands at her side.

Luke didn't miss her stance. She looked like a frightened animal about to bolt. Slow down, Luke, he told himself—don't rush her.

Careful not to move toward her in any way, Luke let go of her hand and reached for the door handle. “Good night, Christine. I'll see you Sunday.”

“Good night.” Christine stood for a long time after the door shut, the cold air no longer swirling around her legs. “If I didn't want Luke to kiss me, why am I so disappointed that he didn't?”

Long after Christine bid Grandma Em good night and took herself off to bed, the question plagued her.

“Come in,” Christine called to the knock on her bedroom door, assuming it was Grandma Em this early on a Sunday morning. “Oh, Mark! It's you!” Christine sent up a quick prayer of thanks that she was dressed.

Mark came into the room and saw that his brother's suspicions had been right: Christine was ready for church. He also wondered absently how Christine was able to tell him and Luke apart, no matter what they were wearing.

“I'm on a mission for my brother,” Mark said.

Christine laughed, feeling quite certain she knew what that mission was. “Why don't you tell me about it over a cup of coffee.”

“Lead the way,” Mark said as he gestured gallantly toward the door.

“So,” Christine said after she had put the coffee on, “what's up? I assume when you say ‘brother,' you are referring to Luke?”

“Correct. Luke wants me to make sure you are well enough to be out today, and if not, to make you go back to bed.”

Again Christine laughed. “What would you like to know? My throat feels fine. My eyes and nose no longer burn. My leg is still tender and I think the skin is going to peel. I must admit I tire easily, but I just rest when I feel the need. Other than the fact that the animals are not here to feed, it's almost
as if the fire never happened.” Christine shrugged and moved to get the coffee.

Mark watched as she poured two cups. “Yes,” he thought, “she's ready to be out again.” Unbidden, another thought followed: “It's easier to keep her safe if she stays in.”

“Mark, if that look on your face means you're about to tell me to go back to bed, then I best warn you, you'll have a fight on your hands.”

Mark looked up to see that Christine had put the coffeepot back on the stove. Her hands were planted on her hips, her chin was thrust out, and she was ready for a battle.

Mark could not keep the smile from his face. “Luke, my dear brother,” he thought to himself, “you have met your match.”

Christine's battle stance turned to confusion upon seeing that smile. She watched as Mark drained his coffee cup, amazed that he could drink it so hot. Standing, he said, “I'll see you in church, Christine,” and then he was out the door.

“And men think women are hard to explain,” Christine said to a supposedly empty room some minutes later.

“There's no hope for you, Christine, if you're talking to yourself at 19. What are you going to be doing at my age?”

The women shared a good laugh and Christine explained Mark's visit, none of which was news to Grandma Em. She didn't miss much of the goings-on in her family.

The women took some time to pray and share a verse before starting breakfast. Christine had begun to memorize Scripture. Reading Psalm 121 for the first time the night before, she had determined to put all eight verses to memory.