Hunter's Bride and A Mother's Wish (12 page)

He came to her, holding out his hand, something that might have been a question in his eyes.

“Ready?”

She nodded, suddenly having nothing to say. The thought of telling him she wasn't going back seemed impossible. Maybe it was unnecessary. He might say—

“I don't know why y'all are going someplace for dinner. Gramma is fixing chicken tonight. You oughta stay here with us.”

Miranda, who'd followed Chloe down the stairs, smiled at her small son. “They want to be by themselves for a change.”

“But they can—”

Miranda put her hand gently over his mouth. “Enough, sugar. ‘Bye, you two.” She gave them a knowing smile. “Y'all have fun now, you hear?”

Luke opened the door. “Your carriage awaits, m'lady.”

Sure her cheeks were as red as Gran's tulips, Chloe went through the door.

Once they were in the car, it should have been better. At least they were away from her family, with their obvious expectation that something special would happen tonight. They probably imagined that Luke had an engagement ring hidden in the pocket of his navy slacks.

She knew better. Maybe that had been admiration in his eyes when she'd come down the steps; maybe he had enjoyed kissing her. But when it came to rings and wedding bells, Luke would marry with his eyes on the prize he wanted. That meant money and power, not a girl-next-door type with no prospects.

“Looks as if there are more people around town.” Luke stopped at Caldwell Cove's only traffic light.

“The season's perking up as the weather gets warmer. Easter will really kick it off.” He was probably thinking about the potential for a Dalton resort in the area. “Places like the Crab House, where we're going tonight, will extend their hours as things get busier.”

Luke nodded, a frown creasing his forehead. Calculating the possibilities? She didn't know.

“Turn in here.” She leaned forward, indicating the crushed-shell parking area of the Crab House. “Sorry, I didn't want you to miss the turn. What were you saying?”

He just shook his head, pulling into a space next to the dock. “This looks like the real thing.”

“That it is.” Chloe slid out, standing for a moment to drink in the scene. The fishing boats at the docks, their nets lifted, were old friends. “This is a working dock. When they tell you the seafood is fresh here, they mean it was swimming in the ocean a few hours ago.”

Luke's hand closed around hers in a gesture that had begun to feel natural. “So what are we eating tonight?”

“Shrimp, oysters, crab, or the day's catch. And the she-crab soup is the best you're ever going to taste, so don't miss that.” Chloe inhaled the salty, fishy aroma of the docks. “Come on, let's see what's on the menu.”

They sat at a table overlooking the sound, and the familiar land-and-waterscape reminded Chloe that she had planned to tell Luke she intended to stay. But somehow the moments ticked by, and the words never quite came out.

“You were right.” Luke leaned back in his chair after the soup course. “The she-crab soup was delectable. What makes it so good?”

“Low-country secrets,” she said, teasing. “You don't want me to betray them, do you?”

He reached across the small table to put his hand over hers. “We're on the same team,” he said. “That's not betraying, is it?”

She shook her head, smiling. Somehow she didn't think being on the same team meant quite as much to Luke as it did to her. “My mother's promised to give me her recipe as a wedding present.”

“That's almost worth getting married for.” He squeezed her fingers, then reached toward his pocket. “By the way, I have something for you.”

He pulled out a small jeweler's box, setting it on the table between them. She read the name of the Savannah jeweler on the lid, and her heart nearly stopped.

Don't be silly,
she told herself fiercely.
It's not what the family imagines. You're not foolish enough to think that.

She had to clear her throat so she could speak. “What is it?”

“Something that made me think of you.” He pushed the box toward her with one finger. “Go ahead, open it.”

She reached out slowly, trying not to think, not to imagine. She pressed the latch, and the lid flipped up. Inside, a gold dolphin attached to a chain as fine as a cobweb nestled on a bed of white satin. Her throat closed; she couldn't say a word.

“What's wrong? Don't you like it?”

She blinked rapidly to keep tears from spilling over. “It's beautiful,” she said carefully. “You shouldn't have.”

“I wanted to.” He lifted it from the box, and it dangled from his fingers, glinting in the candlelight. “Let me fasten it for you.”

She turned her back to him, closing her eyes when his fingers brushed the nape of her neck. The necklace was featherlight, and the dolphin seemed to warm where it touched her skin.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “I love it.”

She did love it. It wasn't Luke's fault that her heart yearned for something else.

She couldn't do this any longer. This evening had to come to a close now. “Maybe we should—”

“Look—”

She followed the direction of Luke's gaze, relieved that he wasn't looking at her. The sun had slipped lower, hiding behind the clouds that massed on the mainland horizon. Then, quite suddenly, the color began to change. Gray clouds tinged with lavender, then mauve, then pink, the colors streaking across the darkening sky until the whole horizon glowed.

“If you saw that in a painting, it would look artificial.” Luke's voice was soft.

“God's handiwork,” she said, her own words just as soft. She wished she knew whether that meant anything to him.

She longed to look at him, but instead watched the sound, a sheet of silver in the fading light. A fishing boat drew a diagonal line across the water, and a pair of pelicans bobbed and rocked in its wake.

“I see why you love it.”

Luke stroked the back of her hand, and she seemed to feel that delicate touch with every cell of her being.

“A person could get lost here and never want to be found,” he said.

She should tell him, she thought again.

Later,
a little voice seemed to whisper in her ear.
Tell him later, because this precious moment will never come again.

She was being a coward, but she didn't care. She'd enjoy this evening, and do her best to pretend it never had to end.

T
hey stepped out of the restaurant into what Luke was beginning to recognize as a Southern night, with the air so warm and moist it felt soft against your skin. He stopped in the parking lot for a moment, holding Chloe's hand as his eyes grew accustomed to the dark.

Across the sound, the mainland was a dark silhouette against a paler gray sky. Lights winked on, sparkling in clusters along the horizon.

“It looks like another world, doesn't it.”

“Maybe it is.” Chloe took a deep breath, as if to inhale the musky sweetness of the air. “Have you made a decision yet about going back?”

Going back—to that other world. The reluctance he felt astonished him. Before they went back—before they even considered it—he had to tell her his decision.

“Chloe, there's something I've been wanting to tell you.”

She stiffened, her hand drawing out of his. “I have something to tell you, too. I—”

She stopped, looking beyond him. An instant later he heard the noise, too—running footsteps, heavy breathing, a muffled shout. He spun.

A single slim figure shot around the corner of the nearest building, closely followed by three or four more. Even in the half dark, he recognized the boy. It was Theo, and he was in trouble.

Instinct kicked in almost before conscious thought. “Stay here.” He snapped the order to Chloe, then ran across the parking lot, shells crunching under his feet. The sound transmuted in his mind to another that fit the emotion better—to feet pounding on hard pavement, shouts echoing off brick walls and bouncing crazily in the confines of an alley.

He knew the feeling. He didn't need to see the hand grab Theo's T-shirt and pull him around, or the punch that bounced off the boy's shoulder as he dodged. He'd been there. He knew what would happen next, with four of them, all bigger and heavier and meaner than Theo was.

Well, not tonight. Theo didn't have to face this alone. Luke was there.

And so was Chloe. He came to a stop a foot from the boys, assessing the situation. Chloe, breath coming quickly, stopped behind him. Of course she'd ignored his order. Chloe was too gutsy to hang back when someone was in trouble, and she'd go to the wall for her family.

Defuse this before it gets any worse, he ordered himself. His fists clenched, and he seemed to hear the survivor of a hundred street fights jeering in the back of his mind. At some level he was ready for a fight, and sixteen years of civilization threatened to vanish in an instant.

He put his hand on Theo's shoulder, moving next to him, letting his size register on the combatants. Slowly he looked them up and down, using the icy stare that had worked equally well whether cowing would-be brawlers in the boardroom or the back alley.

Three of the four retreated a step. The fourth, the one who'd hit Theo, stood his ground. He wore a look that said his old man owned the earth, and running shoes that had probably cost more than Theo's whole wardrobe.

Luke longed to wipe that cocky expression off the kid's face, but he shoved the urge down. Give everybody a chance to save face, and they might get out of this with no more damage.

He drew Theo a little closer. “Good to see you, Theo.” He kept his tone casual. “You and your friends want to join us for coffee?”

Theo straightened, eyes never wavering from the face of the biggest kid. “I will. I reckon these guys are headed for home.”

Luke lifted an eyebrow, inviting a response. “That right?”

My-daddy-owns-the-world sneered. “I ‘reckon' this geechee better stay on his side of the island—isn't that right, boy?”

Luke's control slipped. This kid was everyone who'd ever looked down on him. The boy didn't know how close to the line he was treading.

Apparently mistaking his silence for cowardice, the kid shoved Theo's shoulder. “I said—”

Luke suddenly discovered his hand fisted in the kid's shirtfront. Rage flamed along his veins. He'd—

“Luke.” Chloe's voice was soft but it called him to his senses. He saw the fear in the boy's eyes and held on a moment longer, making sure the kid knew his fear had been seen. Then he released him, smoothing the kid's shirt.

“You know,” he said easily, “Theo's people have been here two hundred years or so. I guess that gives him the right to go anywhere he wants.”

He let his gaze move from one to another of them. None of them met his eyes, and he knew it was over. “I don't think your parents especially want to bail you out tonight, do you?”

They took that for the dismissal it was. In a moment they'd faded back around the corner.

Time to assess damages. Theo had a bloody nose, and the look that met Luke's eyes was half ashamed, half defiant.

“Hope you didn't mind the interference,” he said as casually as if he asked the boy about school. He heard Chloe's indrawn breath and hoped she wouldn't gush over the kid.

“Of course he doesn't.” Her voice was tart, but her hand lingered against her brother's cheek. “Theo doesn't want his daddy to bail him out tonight, either, do you, pest?”

Theo managed a smile. “Guess not.”

No, he didn't need to worry that his Chloe would put her foot wrong when it came to helping. He might have been surprised at his reaction to this little encounter, but he wasn't surprised at Chloe. She was true-blue loyal to people she cared about.

Something twisted in his gut. How many people would say that about him?

 

Chloe decided that her stomach wasn't going to disgrace her. If she let herself think about that moment when she realized Theo was in trouble—her stomach lurched again, and she blanked the picture out of her mind. It had been okay. Luke had been there.

“Well.” She decided she could trust her voice. “Guess we'd best get you cleaned up before Momma gets a look at her baby boy.”

“In here.” Luke jerked his head toward the restaurant. “We could all use a cup of coffee right now.”

As soon as they were inside, she saw the blood on Theo's T-shirt. Her stomach tightened all over again. Luke took her brother's arm and turned him toward the rest room.

“You order the coffee,” he said.

Chloe battled down her resentment at his assumption of authority. She hadn't resented it when he'd jumped into Theo's battle, had she? She slid into the nearest booth and ordered coffee for three.

When the waitress had gone, she wrung a napkin between her fingers. If Luke hadn't been there, what would she have done? Well, she'd have helped Theo, of course. But she might have had to yell for help, involved other people, maybe even the police. She shuddered at the thought of the scene.

No, Luke was right. None of them wanted Daddy to bail them out tonight.

The coffee arrived, and she poured a cup for herself without waiting for the other two. Luke had taken control, all right. For a moment she'd actually thought he was going to hit that smart-mouth kid.

She stirred the coffee, starting a dark whirlpool that seemed to match the one in her mind. What had she seen in Luke in those moments? Something wild, something dark, something completely at odds with the sophisticated, urban professional he was the rest of the time. She didn't know where that other person had come from, and she wasn't sure what to make of him.

The rest room door swung, and they came out. Theo's shirt was damp but clean. He shivered a little in the air-conditioning as he slid into the booth, and she shoved a coffee cup toward him.

“Have some. It'll make a new man of you.”

The bench creaked as Luke sat next to her. “Some for me, please. I could stand to be a new man.”

She glanced sideways at his face. His mouth was a straight, hard line, and some emotion she couldn't guess at darkened his blue eyes. Uncomfortable, she looked at his hands, instead. His strong fingers tore a napkin methodically into strips. He seemed to become aware of that, and he pressed his hands flat against the table.

“I guess I owe you one.” Theo stared down at his coffee and grimaced. “Boy, is Daddy gonna say, ‘I told you so.'”

“Your daddy doesn't seem like the kind of man to do that.”

Luke's voice was calm; the streak of wildness she'd seen vanquished for the moment.

“How'd that get started, anyway?”

Theo shrugged, the movement of thin shoulders under the damp T-shirt bringing a lump to her throat. It seemed like yesterday that she'd been teaching him to ride a bike. Now he was nearly grown.

“It was a girl.”

Luke's mouth quirked. “Theo, most of the trouble men end up in starts with the same words. ‘It was a girl.'”

Chloe punched his arm, her fist bouncing on hard muscle. “That's right, blame it on Eve.”

That brought a smile to Theo's troubled face. “Guess you're right, at that. Anyway, seemed like she liked me. Made them mad. They were waiting when I got off work.” His jaw worked. “I should have fought them. Reckon I acted like a coward.”

The misery in his voice put a loop around Chloe's heart. What could she say that would make it better? If only Miranda were here. Miranda always knew what to say when someone was hurting. Poor Theo was stuck with the wrong sister tonight.

“Yeah, right. That'd make your daddy proud.” Luke's brisk words were like a dash of cold water. “He'd really appreciate your brawling in the street.”

Well, it wasn't the dose of sympathy she'd been looking for, but it made Theo sit up a bit straighter.

“I guess that's so.” Theo seemed to search Luke's face for answers. “But shouldn't a man defend himself?”

“Looked to me as if you were ready to fight if you didn't have a choice. And there were four of them,” Luke reminded him. “There's a difference between being brave and being stupid. That's a line I crossed a time or two myself.”

Theo seemed to process that and come to the same conclusion Chloe had. “You knew how to handle yourself out there.”

Just what she'd been thinking. Luke had behaved like a man who'd been in that spot more than once.

Luke shrugged. “It didn't take much to scare them off, once they saw they didn't outnumber you.”

“Four to two,” Theo said.

Chloe ruffled his hair. “Four to three. I didn't grow up running with the twins without learning a thing or two, remember.”

Theo grinned. “My sister, the bantam-weight.”

“Just one thing bothers me.” Luke had a question in his eyes.

“What?”

“What exactly is a geechee? Or is it so bad I shouldn't ask in polite company?”

Laughter bubbled up, dissipating the last of Chloe's tension. “Actually, we consider it a badge of honor. A geechee is anyone born and bred in the low country—roughly speaking, the coast from Georgetown down to the Ogeechee River in Georgia.”

“Then, I guess I better get you two geechees home.” The ugliness that had marred the evening disappeared entirely as Luke tossed a bill on the table and stood.

Chloe slid out of the booth, feeling his hand close on her elbow. Something, some trace of that other Luke she'd seen tonight, lingered in his touch.

Which was the real Luke? Was she ever going to know?

 

The inn slept behind her as Chloe stepped out onto the front porch a few hours later. They'd gotten Theo into the house without encountering anyone. Whether or not the boy decided to confide in Daddy was up to him now.

She should have fallen right to sleep from sheer exhaustion. Instead she'd tossed and turned, listening to Miranda's even breathing from the other bed. Finally she'd gotten up and slipped on jeans and a shirt. Maybe a breath of air would counteract the coffee she'd drunk.

The sweet, musky scent of the marshes filled her as she leaned against the porch railing. It always soothed her. It soothed her now. But the question still bubbled beneath the surface. What secrets did Luke hide? How did she reconcile the man she thought she knew with the glimpses he'd given her of his hidden self?

Something moved out on the dock, and a figure was silhouetted against the gray water beyond. Her heart recognized him, even in the dark.
Luke.

She'd taken three steps off the porch before she'd made a conscious decision to go to him. Well, she had to thank him for what he'd done for Theo tonight, didn't she? But she knew she had another, deeper reason. She had to talk with Luke because she had to know what was going on inside him.

She felt Luke's gaze on her as she crossed the path and stepped onto the dock. The weathered boards echoed hollowly under her feet. He sat at the end, his back against a post.

“Hey.” She dropped down next to him.

“Hey, yourself. How's Theo?” His baritone rumble seemed scarcely louder than the murmur of water against the dock.

“Sound asleep.” She hesitated, not sure what else to say, her gaze tracing the line of moonlight on the water.