Here We Come (Aggie's Inheritance) (9 page)

“I’m
giving
the
kids
Wednesday
off
next
week.
You
can
take
Laird
that
day.”

He
didn’t
answer
at
first,
but
then
Luke
nodded.
“I
think
I
can
have
things
to
where
he
could
be
a
big
help
by
then.
I
was
ho
ping
to
have
him
on
Saturday
if
you
can
spare
him.
That’ll
give
me
Monday
and
Tuesday
to
fix
the
pipes.”

“Can
I
help?”
She
sighed.
“I
guess
not.
I’d
have
to
bring
the
kids.
That’s
not
much
help.”

Luke’s
hand
reached
for
hers
and
squeezed
before
he
returned
it
to
the
steering
wheel.
“I’ll
see
about
Mom
coming
to
stay
for
an
afternoon
the
day
I
have
to
go
shopping.
If
I
have
to
redo
that
wall
with
the
backsplash,
and
I
think
I
do,
you
might
as
well
come
help
me
pick
out
the
right
tile.”

The
words
“
might
as
well
”
rankled.
“I
don’t
want
to
push
myself
on
you,
Luke.
I
just
wanted
to
help.”

“What?”

He
slowed
, driving past
the
porch,
and
Aggie
opened
the
door.
“I
should
go
in.”

“Wait,
Mibs.
You’re
angry.”

Aggie
pulled
the
door
shut
once
more.
“I—
I
guess
I
am.
I
would
have
said
hurt,
but
they’re
the
same
thing
sometimes,
aren’t
they?”

“Why?
What—”

Her
hand
remained
on
the
door
handle,
and
she
couldn’t
bring
herself
to
look
at
him.
“I
don’t
want
to
be
a
nuisance,
Luke.”

“Who
s
aid
anything
about
a
nuisance?”
He
braked,
throwing
the
truck
in
gear
much
more
recklessly
than
his
usual
careful
treatment
of
his
“tools.”

“‘Might
as
well
come…’
I
don’t
want
to
be
a
‘might
as
well.’”

Though
she’d
expected
a
protest,
it
didn’t
come.
In
fact,
there
was
no
re
sponse
at
all.
He
didn’t
brake;
he
didn’t
sigh;
he
didn’t
even
glance
her
way,
much
less
speak.
Instead,
he
kept
circling
the
drive,
unaware
of
the
confusion
he
left
in
Aggie’s
heart.
Just
as
she
was
ready
to
demand
that
he
stop
the
truck
and
let
her
out,
realization
dawned.
He
was
thinking.

“Mibs—”

A
giggle
escaped
before
she
could
prevent
it.
“Sorry.”

“What—I
don’t
get
it.”

“I
just
realized
why
you
were
so
quiet
and
right
when
I
realized
that,
you
spoke.”

As
if
unsure
what
to
say,
he
shook
his
head.
“I
just
wanted
to
say
I’m
sorry.”
He
braked,
his
truck
bed
half
in
the
road.
Hanging
his
hands
over
the
steering
wheel,
he
laid
his
head
on
them
and
looked
at
her.
“I
didn’t
mean
to
make
it
sound
like
that.
I
was
thinking
more
that
it
wasn’t
your
kitchen
and
you
wouldn’t
get
to
enjoy
it,
but
you
might
as
well
have
fun
with
it
anyway.”