Chapter Sixteen

Claire woke the next morning and found herself trapped in a family sitcom out of the 1950s.

The mom wore an apron and bustled around the kitchen, laughing and rolling her eyes at her husband’s terrible jokes. Their pride in their son shone through every time he was in the room, as did the love and respect they had for each other.

Definitely something out of a ’50s sitcom, except the dad was Black, the mom was Puerto Rican, their son was white, and their guest was a wanted fugitive.

It was all a little surreal, especially when she had never fit in at her foster homes. Most of them hadn’t been bad; nobody had been mean to her, except for the people at Skyline Park.

Even so, she’d been the quiet kid. The one who wasn’t good with people, who slipped through the cracks. Foster families tended to be full and busy, the parents already stretched thin by trying to provide for all the kids in their care.

None of them had set out to ignore her. It had been easy to do since she was the kid who basically wanted nothing more than to be left alone. The squeaky wheel got the oil, the quiet wheel ended up alone with a cat.

That wasn’t the case with Sheila Patterson. Nobody was left out when she was around.

She’d coddled Luke ever since finding out about his wound, looking after it, making him his favorite foods.

More surprising? Luke had let her do it.

He loved her and she loved him. Nothing could be more evident. And the more evident it became, the more Claire found herself withdrawing. Not on purpose. It was what she did whenever she was on the outside looking in.

But Sheila was having none of it.

She’d included Claire in every conversation. Every game of spades. Cooking, washing dishes—Sheila included her in that, too. She didn’t treat Claire like a guest; she treated her like family.

It was amazing and alarming, like nothing Claire had ever known. Yet every time she started to withdraw and shut down, some member of the Patterson family pulled her back in.

“Mom.” Luke found Claire and Sheila in the kitchen, and he didn’t look happy. “Dad is dragging me down to the lake so he can show me his new rod and reel. Please tell me you have something I can do here so I don’t have to go. Like scrubbing toilets.”

He sounded like a whiny little kid and Claire couldn’t help but smile.

Sheila sighed with a shrug. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to go fishing with your father. I’m going to teach Claire how to make apple turnovers.”

That was news to Claire, though the fact that the mere mention of turnovers made Luke’s eyes literally light up told her this was a good way to spend the time. “You are?”

“That way she has something to lord over you when you’re not behaving the way you should.” Sheila dropped a knowing wink Claire’s way.

Luke shook his head. “You’re a cruel woman, Sheila Patterson. Equipping the younger generation to operate in that way.”

Sheila raised one dark eyebrow. “We women have to stick together.”

Luke was still grumbling good-naturedly as he and Clinton walked down to the creek that fed into the lake. Meanwhile, Claire had the feeling this situation was a setup to give Sheila a chance for them to talk privately.

She tried to keep a positive expression on her face, but she couldn’t help but worry. Sheila might not have been related to Luke by blood, but she thought of herself as his mother.

And undoubtedly, thought of Claire as a threat to her son.

The irony of the situation didn’t escape her as Sheila took her through the process, step-by-step. There was nothing Claire wanted more than to know how to make Luke’s favorite dessert, though ideally, she’d make it when he wasn’t in danger because of her. She was only learning the recipe because they’d come here to hide out for a while.

There was also a sense of waiting for the other shoe to drop—for Sheila’s tone to change as she took Claire through the steps. When was she going to get around to it?

As it turned out, Sheila got around to it while Claire was busy folding the homemade pastry dough around apple slices. “Luke is important to me. All of my sons are.” She didn’t stop working as she spoke, so Claire didn’t, either.

“I could see that. He loves you and Clinton, and you both love him. I’m so happy he found a family who appreciates him.”

Sheila glanced over at her. “And you? Do you appreciate Luke the way he is?”

“Luke was my hero when we were kids. He looked after me when we were in the group home together. I guess he’s still my hero.”

Sheila smiled a mother’s knowing smile. “He’s always been very protective. It’s his nature. It’s easy to see he’s protective toward you, even more than normal. He cares about you.”

“I care about him, too,” Claire whispered.

“He doesn’t talk much about his life before us. We know about Skyline Park, of course, and what a terrible place it was before it got shut down. I’m sorry you were there. I hope it wasn’t too bad.”

“It would’ve been much worse if it hadn’t been for Luke.” She forced herself to look Sheila in the eye in spite of her nervousness and the sense of being judged by a protective mother. “I don’t want to complicate his life. I want him to be safe and happy. I don’t know how much you know about how we ended up in each other’s lives again, but the last thing I want is to complicate things for him.”

“I believe you.” Sheila pointed to the turnover Claire was working on. “Make sure that seal is tight or the juice will run out.”

And that was that. Sheila seemed satisfied, and Claire had the sense of having passed a test—maybe the most critical test she’d ever taken.

B Y EVENING , it was just the two of them. Clinton and Sheila had gone home, but not before Sheila made sure they had plenty of food for a few days and a clean cabin to stay in. “Take care of each other,” she’d whispered in Claire’s ear as they hugged goodbye.

Luke certainly looked and sounded like he was well taken care of as he finished his third turnover. “She taught you well,” he groaned, patting his belly. “Too well. I might end up popping the button off my pants after this dessert.”

“Your parents are amazing. It’s easy to see how you boys turned out so well. You got so lucky.”

“We did.” He took her hand and slid his thumb over the knuckles. “I wish you had, too. I want you to know that. I’ve been wondering ever since we got here and found my parents if you were thinking about how our lives diverged.”

“If you’re asking whether I’m jealous or not, the answer is no.” She meant it with all her heart. She would have never held Luke’s good luck against him. “I want the best for you. That’s what it’s all about, right? And you got the best, no doubt.”

He pulled her in for a kiss. “I sure did.”

If her first full day at the cabin had been something out of a sitcom, the next two days were a happy dream—an idyllic, perfect little dream full of nature’s beauty and peace. The joy of being together, of making love all through the night and sleeping in each other’s arms.

There was fun, too. Like when Luke took her fishing, knowing she didn’t have the first clue about it. “Wait. You mean I have to stick the hook through the worm?”

“How did you think this went? I’m genuinely curious.”

“I thought I went to the store and whoops, there was fish in the case. Can we not, I don’t know...drag a net through the water and see what we pick up?”

“I mean, we could,” he offered as he hooked a worm, “but that would take a lot of time. And, you know, a boat. We can fish from the banks. But hey, at least we’ll have the fun of cleaning the fish we catch. Aren’t you looking forward to that?”

Only the fact that she caught twice as many trout as he did made the day salvageable. That, and the company—the stories he told and the way his entire demeanor changed as he relaxed. She had no doubt he was still on guard, that his skilled gaze took in everything around them and processed it for signs of trouble, but he did his best to be in the moment with her.

She couldn’t have loved him more if she tried.

This might be their life one day. She reflected on that while they sat together on the porch, side by side in rocking chairs. There was peace and quiet, the sort of quiet that settled on a person’s heart and spread all through them, making everything a little sweeter. A little better.

And he might be hers. For always. If he wanted to be.

She had the feeling he did, and it made her heart swell with pride and hope. If they could only think about that right now...if only there wasn’t so much in the way.

“What are you thinking about?” He turned to her with a smile, amber light all around his head cast from the setting sun. He looked like the angel he’d always been to her.

“How sweet this is. How I needed this.” She let out a long sigh, gazing out over the lake. “How I would love to come back here someday...when I’m not afraid anymore.”

His hand closed over hers, giving her strength. “You don’t have to be afraid.”

“Luke...”

“I know it’s easy for me to say, but I’m in this for the long haul. Whatever it takes. You have me, and you have my brothers. You have Sheila and Clinton Patterson at your back. In case you couldn’t tell, they’re a force to be reckoned with.”

“You don’t need to tell me that.” She laughed. “Anybody who could keep you boys in order has my full confidence.”

“They like you. I could tell.”

“That is a massive compliment.” She winked with a smile. “I liked them, too. A lot. They didn’t have to be so nice to me, so welcoming. Here I am, a random person they’d never met before, walking into their special cabin.”

“Love is what they do. It’s who they are.”

“I see a lot of them in you.” He snickered a little and she continued, “No, I do. You’re the same person you always were, don’t get me wrong—you’re still kind and brave. But you’re not as afraid to show it now as you used to be when we were kids.”

“You bring it out in me, too, Kitten. It’s not all my parents. It’s you.” He stood, pulling her to her feet and wrapping her in one of his all-encompassing hugs. “It’s always been you.”

She hadn’t made a ton of good decisions in her life, and she knew it.

And while she regretted dragging Luke into the insanity, she couldn’t help but think that walking into his office was one of the best decisions she’d ever made.

“I wish we could stay here forever,” she admitted in a soft, shaky whisper, wrapped up tight in his arms.

“Me too, Kitten,” he whispered, stroking her hair. “Me, too.”