“But you mustn’t keep blaming your mother. I’m sure every parent sometimes has visions of running away from his or her responsibilities.”
Just like she had, for a few brief hours when Chloe was just a baby. She’d run away, but it had been the right thing to do, as Luke had told her. Maybe she needed to cut her mother a bit of slack, like she was trying to with Gretchen. The constriction around her chest eased a notch only to cinch tight again as she wished Luke were there. The last time he’d offered her advice on Gretchen, she’d snapped at him, but now she saw how right he’d been.
Why did she have to fall in love with him? Why had she passed over so many others to pick the most unsuitable guy to lose her heart to? But she hadn’t chosen him. She’d had no choice in the matter. Love had struck like lightning, random and devastating.
Helen placed a covered casserole dish on the kitchen table and assessed the room with a calculating eye. “Do you have enough fruit and vegetables?” she asked Luke, nodding at the fruit bowl that held one moldering onion.
Luke ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. This evening Helen was doing the bossy big-sister act to the max. “I’ve got tomato juice.”
She studied him, head tilted. “When did you last shave?”
Christ. He rolled his eyes. “Don’t you have some Sunday dinner thing to go to?”
“I’ve got a few minutes.” She rested her hip against the table and made herself comfortable. “How’s the writing coming along?”
“Fine.”
“No writer’s block, then? You’re getting lots done?”
“Tons.”
“Then why are you so grumpy?”
“I’m not grumpy,” he barked before he caught himself and added more reasonably, “Sorry, I’ve been working some long nights.”
The writing had been pouring out of him, but it hadn’t stopped him from thinking about Tyler; she was the inspiration behind one of his main characters, after all. And when he wasn’t writing, she was always in the background, ready to assert her presence when he dropped his guard. The smallest, silliest things brought her immediately to the fore—a faint scent, a snatch of music, even the color purple, and then he could waste God knows how long thinking about her. Missing her. Damn, how he missed her. Her and Chloe.
Sometimes the memories got too much, to the point where all he wanted was to jump into his car and drive over to Burronga and beg her to let him move in with her. Which was just the thing a weaker man than he would do.
“Has Tyler been over since you moved back?”
His sister’s question rocked him back on his heels. “No,” he said, eyeing her suspiciously.
Helen pursed her lips, and he thought she was about to start lecturing him, but all she said was, “That’s a pity. I like her. Maybe I’ll drop by her store sometime.”
No, he wanted to protest. If she did that, he wouldn’t be able to help himself from bombarding her with questions, like how was Tyler, what was she wearing, did she seem happy? Was she seeing anyone new? His stomach rolled at the thought. He picked up the casserole, intent on shoving it into the refrigerator.
“I saw our father in town today,” Helen said abruptly.
His fingers clamped around the casserole dish. “Yeah?”
“It’s no use trying to hide things from me. I know you got him an apartment. We all know.”
Slowly he stored the casserole and shut the fridge. “He’s pathetic and selfish, but I can’t turn my back on him.” When Tyler had pressed that book of poems in his hands, she’d reminded him of the good in his father. Luke couldn’t be the partner that she deserved, or the dad that her daughter needed, but maybe he could be a more forgiving son. He would continue supporting his father and not expect anything in return. “Don’t be too mad with me, sis.”
“I’m not mad at you!” Her eyes widened. “Oh, Luke, I know you can’t help yourself. You’re just like Mum.”
A tremor ran through him, cracking his facade. “You think I’m like Mum?”
“Exactly like her. So forgiving and loving and big-hearted.”
He’d always feared he took after his feckless father, not just in looks but in character too. But now Helen was telling him the opposite, and she couldn’t have said it at a better time—now, when he’d reached rock bottom.
He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her. “Thanks, sis. You don’t know how much that means to me.”
“Silly.” She laughed and squeezed his shoulder before breaking free and gathering up her handbag. “I’d better get going. Oh and Luke”—she paused at the back door—“I think you might want to take a shower soon. Like right now, perhaps?”
“Good night, sis.”
When she was gone, he sniffed at himself and decided she was right about the shower. Fifteen minutes later, he’d rinsed off and changed into fresh jeans and a T-shirt when he heard a knock at the door. Probably Helen, returning to give him instructions on how to heat up the casserole. He opened the door with a quip ready, but the words dried up when he saw Tyler standing in front of him.
Chapter Fifteen
He gaped at her, dumbfounded, unable to say anything. The dusky light from the hallway fell on hair fierier than he remembered. Under his gaze she shifted uneasily, her long legs encased in tight blue jeans and muddied boots. Without makeup, her face was pale and young.
“Hi, Luke.”
Her husky voice trailed over him like a lit sparkler. “Hi.” He swallowed. “Do you want to come inside?”
“No, Chloe’s in the car.” She cast a quick glance over her shoulder at the beat-up hatchback parked at the curb. “Um, I was just passing through, and I thought I should drop these off.” For the first time he realized she was holding a carrier bag, which she proffered to him. “It’s some stuff you left at my house. I suppose I could have mailed it to you, but seeing as I was in the area”
“Thanks.” He took the bag from her.
“Okay, I’ll see you, then.” Wrapping her suede jacket around her, she turned away.
“Wait.” Impulsively he stepped forward, everything in him protesting at her leaving. She stopped, watching him warily while he struggled to come up with something to say. “What were you doing around here?”
If she thought the question prying, she didn’t indicate that, instead pushing her hands into the pockets of her jacket. “Chloe and I were visiting Gretchen. Her farm’s not far away.”
His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “How did it go?”
“Better than I expected. Gretchen seemed to go out of her way to be pleasant to me, which must have almost killed her. But Chloe had fun.”
“So you’ll go again?”
“We’ll see.” She sucked in her lower lip, frowning slightly. “It wasn’t much of a picnic.”
If he’d accompanied them, maybe it could have made things easier for her. He would have been able to soothe her fears, take the edge off awkward moments But he’d walked away from any right to be at her side.
“It’ll be easier next time,” he said.
“Yeah.” She sounded choked, like she didn’t believe him. Her slim throat worked as she continued to stare at him with those deep blue eyes of hers, and it hit him that she was as affected by this meeting as he was. I always knew you were going to leave. That was what she’d said to him, and she’d meant it, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t missed him, maybe as much as he’d missed her.
He’d hurt her. He’d been careless and selfish, taking what he wanted and believing there’d be no consequences just because he’d laid down the ground rules. But she was hurting, and he was to blame. Despite what his sister had said, he was just like his father. Narcissistic. Worthless. Damaged.
He shivered, the brisk evening breeze scraping ice across his skin. His insides churned like dead mud. He had to make her leave. Now. Every minute she stayed only exacerbated his emptiness. “Thanks for dropping off my stuff.”
She bit her lip and hugged the jacket tighter. “I’d better be going.”
This time, he let her go, but it was too late. He should have let her walk away weeks ago.
The car wobbled as the flapping, grinding noise from the left rear tire grew louder.
“No, no, no,” Tyler groaned. Not a flat tire. Not now, of all times. As the car lurched, she gripped the steering wheel tight and brought the vehicle to a halt on the side of the road.
Right on cue, the thunderstorm that had been threatening all afternoon broke, and rain came crashing down. Chloe lay asleep in the backseat. The wet, thundery night pressed in on them while traffic whizzed past on the highway. Tyler rested her aching forehead against the steering wheel and shut her eyes. Why the hell had she thought dropping in on Luke would be a good idea? All it had done was opened the wounds wider and poured in an oceanful of salt. She squeezed her eyelids against the hot sting building up inside. I won’t cry, I won’t cry, I damn well won’t cry. She’d wasted enough tears over him. It was time to move on.
Time to change the tire, too. No point waiting for a knight in shining armor to rescue her, because he didn’t exist. She flicked on the emergency lights before heaving herself out of the car. The rain pelted down as she hunted for the jack, wheel blocks, and wrench. By the time she had all the equipment ready, her hair was sodden and her suede jacket was ruined.