Текст книги "The Stillburrow Crush"

Автор книги: Linda Kage

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223

The Stillburrow Crush

by Linda Kage

Chapter Seventeen

Marty walked home from the service with us, and Mom and Dad pampered him at the house. Mom poured him a glass of milk while Dad sat beside him on the sofa. Marty thanked them repeatedly, which was unlike him. Mom finally sat on the other side of him and held his hand. Dad chatted with him, taking his mind off the pain.

"Business has been picking up for me in the past few weeks," he said. "I'm getting busy enough I can't handle the workload myself. So I was wondering if you knew of anyone that needed a job. The pay won't be much at first. But I'm willing to be flexible. Do you know of anyone that knows a little about cars?"

Marty glanced up. "You asking me to work for you?" Dad gave a brief nod. "If you're willing." Marty mulled it over for a second and then said, "I'm willing."

It was Mom who let out a relieved breath. I watched her as she brushed her fingers over Marty's knuckles. She didn't seem worried about us getting dirt on the floor or what the town might be thinking of us for weeping all over ourselves like we had. It made me feel like she'd changed, like she wasn't so embarrassed to be a part of us now. It seemed like our family was putting itself back into some kind of order. In the face of tragedy we'd united, and it felt good to know we wouldn't turn our backs on each other when times turned rough.

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Marty's eyelids seemed to get heavy, and I think we all realized he needed to be alone. He needed rest and a little peaceful solitude.

My parents had already drifted out of the room and I'd been about to leave Marty alone. But at the call of my name,

"Carrie?" I turned back and came to sit by him on the couch. He looked at me from red raccoon eyes. "Don't tell anyone about what I said the other day...about the baby," he said. I shook my head. "I won't."

"I don't want anyone to know what I thought. I was wrong, OK?" He waited for me to nod. Then he continued after a shaky breath. "And if I wasn't wrong then she didn't want anyone to know. So I'm not going to let anyone find out."

"OK," I said in a soft voice. "I won't tell anyone."

"I don't think she deserved this," he said.

"Of course you don't." The very idea appalled me.

"But I was mad at her. I tried to hate her. I couldn't, though. After everything she did to me, I still can't. And I didn't want her to die. I didn't."

"I know, Marty. I know." I hugged him. He bowed his head and raised his hand to his eyes. "She didn't deserve this."

Keeping my arms around him, I rocked us into a sway on the couch. "It's not your fault."

"I didn't know I could hurt this much," he whispered. I closed my eyes and rested against him. I had no idea what I could do to ease his pain. But after a while, he patted 225

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my arm and thanked me. So I guessed I'd done all I needed to.

Or maybe time had done the work.

It was early evening when Luke showed up at our front door. Mom let him in. He was looking at her with concerned eyes when I came to the end of the hall and into the living room.

"How are you, Mrs. Paxton?" He said it as if she was the mourning mother of the deceased. It touched me to hear him treat her that way.

Mom smiled at him gratefully and clasped her hands over his. "I think I'm as well as can be expected." Her eyes turned to the door down the hall where Marty's old room was. Then she smiled again at Luke. "Thank you so much for asking, Luke."

He nodded. Mom had already led him into the living room. Dad was out in the shop and Marty was in his old room napping. When Luke saw me, he swept past Mom and came directly for me. Right there in front of my mother and in the middle of her living room, he pulled me off my feet and hugged me so hard, I think I heard my back pop. He kissed my hair and smoothed his hand down my back. He murmured my name and then he clasped me to him again. "For three days," he said in an unsteady voice, "I've been driving myself insane, thinking what I would do if it'd been you." He pulled back to cup my face with his hands. "I just have to make sure you're OK." And he kissed me again. But this time, he really kissed me.

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At first, I was shocked he had the nerve to do this in front of Mom, but then he pulled my mind into the kiss and all I could think of was Luke. He was warm and generous and loving, and I wanted to soak into his warmth where I could hide away until all the pain had passed. And for a moment, I did.

When we stopped kissing, I rested my cheek on his shoulder. He latched his arms around my back and laid his chin on the top of my head. I listened to the low rumble of his voice coming through his chest as he murmured things like how good I felt and how much he'd missed me. I didn't move from his embrace until I heard my father's voice. I'm not sure when Dad had come in or how long he'd been standing there, but when I lifted my head, there he was, next to Mom.

"Luke," he said, and came toward us with slow, tired steps. When he started saying, "I don't think it's a good idea..." I was ready to jump in front of Luke and fight my parents tooth and nail to let him stay. I hadn't realized I'd missed him so much until he was right there, hugging me. I needed to feel Luke's arms around me, needed to feel alive. So when Dad finished with, "I don't think it's a good idea for Carrie to be cooped up here all day. Do you think you could take her somewhere for a while?" my mouth dropped. All week my parents had been anti-Luke and now they were begging him to take me away?

What was the deal with that?

Luke slid me a sideways glance that seemed to mirror my shocked reaction. Then he smiled. "I think I could do that." 227

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Dad nodded. "Good. She needs to get out of the house and free herself for a while." He rummaged a hand through his pocket and came up with his wallet. "Maybe you could get her something to eat. Do you need any money?" Luke lifted a hand. "No. I'm fine." He turned toward me. "I know exactly where to take her."

Mom came up and touched his shoulder. "Thank you so much, Luke. We really appreciate you being here for her at a time like this."

Luke nodded. He took my hand and squeezed. I had to hug each parent before we left and whisper my own thanks into their ears. I was glad they were finally realizing he actually liked me...Carrie Paxton. I was glad I'd finally realized it too.

Once we were outside and walking toward his car, Luke took my hand. "Are you sure you don't mind coming with me?"

I looked up at him. His concern was so evident, his eyebrows crinkled and his jaw tightened. He'd changed out of the dark suit he'd worn to the funeral and was in his letterman's jacket, a sweater, and jeans. Small drops of snow were settling in his black hair, making it curl around his cowlick. But in the cold of the day, his fingers remained warm around mine.

I couldn't think of anywhere else I'd rather be.

"I don't mind," I said.

Luke opened the passenger-side door for me and waited until I was seated before he shut it. I closed my eyes and pressed my cheek against the cold leather seat. I huddled in 228

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my coat, wanting to fall asleep right there and not wake up until all of this was over. When Luke started the car, he didn't say anything, but I could feel him watching me. I thought he was going to take me all the way to Paulbrook for a meal, so when he stopped the car seconds later I opened my eyes, surprised.

I sat up when I discovered we were parked in a paved circle drive in front of a two-story house with a three-car garage. My heart pounded against my chest and I sent a panicked glance to Luke.

"I want you to meet my parents," he said. I shook my head frantically, making wide sweeps back and forth with my face. "I'm not ready." The smile he gave me almost looked sad. "You're not afraid of them, are you?"

I shook my head no, but the word that came out of my mouth was, "Yes."

Luke reached over and snagged my hand. "This is the final step, Carrie. You meet my parents and we'll officially be a couple."

I showed him my doubting look. "There are steps for that?"

He grinned. "Absolutely."

"You are such a liar. And besides, your parents already know who I am."

Luke sighed and briefly closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he shot me the overly patient look my mother used to give me when I threw a temper tantrum. 229

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"They know who you are," he said, "but they've never actually met you." He shoved his door open. "I'm going to prove to you I'm not ashamed of you, OK? So you have to meet my parents."

And before I could reply, he jerked himself out of the driver's side and slammed the door. I continued to sit there and watched him stop halfway to his front door. Then he spun back to face the Mustang. From my seat, I stared at him through the windshield and read the words he mouthed. "Get out of the car."

I rolled my eyes and opened my door. "Fine," I said, slamming my own door. "Let's go meet your parents." When I caught up to him and was striding along beside him, I added,

"So I can prove to you that you should be ashamed of wanting to date me."

Luke only glared at me as he pushed open his front door. He let me in ahead of him, and I felt defiant enough to stride inside with my nose in the air. But once I cleared the threshold, the smell of lilacs drifted to greet me and I shrank back, running smack into Luke as he followed me in. The entrance made Aunt Kay's house look tiny. The floor was a mix of tan and mauve marble for a few feet and then it turned into a smoky gray carpet. Candles flickered in glass sconces on the wall. A huge silver-framed mirror hung next to them, reflecting their light.

"Mom," Luke called from behind me, making me jump out of my skin.

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I spun around, ready to retreat. But of course he was blocking the exit. I buried my face in the opening of his jacket. "Don't make me do this," I whispered.

"Shh." Warm fingers settled in my hair. They pressed onto either side of my skull and lightly lifted my head until I was forced to look up. "Will you relax?"

"I'll think about it when this is over." His blue eyes lit up, and he laughed.

I folded my arms over my chest and harrumphed. "I'm glad you're having so much fun." Then I spun around only to be startled once again.

Mrs. Carter was standing right there. I must've looked like I was watching a horror movie because my eyes bugged and my hand flew up to cover my heart. I could feel Luke's chest shake as if he was silently laughing at me. I stepped back far enough for the heel of my foot to land hard on the toe of his shoe.

The shaking stopped, and I was finally able to smile at his mother.

I saw an amused grin flicker across Mrs. Carter's face as if she knew what was going on. And that made my face heat a little. But then Luke stepped around me.

"Mom, I'd like you to meet Carrie." My face grew hotter. It felt corny to be so formally introduced to this woman since I'd known who she was my whole life. But Mrs. Carter stepped forward with a familiar smile, a smile that suddenly reminded me of Luke. She had a deep dimple and a bit of an overbite.

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"Carrie," she said, and used both her hands to clasp mine.

"It's nice to finally meet you, though from the way Luke talks about you, I feel like I've known you for years." I blinked. "He talks about me...to you?"

"Don't sound so shocked," Luke muttered beside me. I didn't have a chance to glare at him because his mother was leading me further into the house.

"How's your brother doing?" she asked, which surprised me even more.

"He's, uh...He's pretty upset," I said.

"Oh, I can imagine. The dear boy is simply too young to lose someone who was obviously so close to him." She led me into a sitting room where all the furniture had cherry legs and seated me on a chair with a fluffy cushion and high back. She sat in a matching chair next to me. Luke stood close to the door and watched us with a smirk in his eyes.

"Both of my parents have passed away," Mrs. Carter said,

"but they were older and I was prepared for their deaths. I just don't know what I'd do if it happened suddenly to someone I cared for. Your poor brother must be suffering."

"Well, he's...coping," I said. I hadn't expected this at all. I knew people would think about him and stare at him after Abby's death. But I'd expected accusations—not sympathy. I thought they would blame him for making her wild enough to go out drinking and driving.

I didn't know if I could take too much more of this unanticipated behavior from Mrs. Carter. So I looked up toward Luke for help. Could it be possible I'd been wrong all this time?

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"I think it's affecting the whole town," he said, coming in to aid me and changing the subject to a less personal tone. Mrs. Carter nodded, agreeing. "Yes, it's been quite an eyeopener." She took my hands again. "And I thank you so much, Carrie."

I glanced over, frowning. "For what?" She laughed. "You've completely changed my son." When my eyes widened, she patted my hand.

"For the better, of course. Before he got involved with you, he would've been at that party and could've been one of those kids in that wreck. But this time, he didn't go and I know it was because of you." Her fingers squeezed mine. "It's about time he found himself a good girl." When I caught Luke's expression, he rolled his eyes like he disagreed I was good. I frowned at him and then smiled at his mother.

"Thank you," I said, becoming fonder of the woman as the minutes stretched on.

That's when Luke's father found us in the sitting room. He came in stretching and rubbing his stomach.

"Isn't it about time to eat?" He stopped when he saw me.

"Well, hello there."

"Dear, this is Carrie Paxton," Mrs. Carter said, rising to her feet and bringing me with her. "Luke's friend."

"Paxton?" At my nod, Mr. Carter lifted a brow. "Why, you must be Dean's girl. I can see it in the eyes." I risked a quick look toward Luke, but he was no help. I faced the father again and swallowed. "Yes, sir," I said, and tried to brace myself for the worst.

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So when he came forward with an outstretched hand and eagerly pumped mine, my fingers were limp with shock.

"Well, it's an honor," he said, grinning. My eyes grew. "It is?"

Mr. Carter threw back his head and laughed, a laugh that was a lot like his son's. "Isn't she a firecracker?" he said to his son.

Luke beamed.

I jumped when Mr. Carter threw his long arm around my shoulder and led me from the room. "Of course it's an honor. I've always said your father's the most honest man in Stillburrow."

I knew that already, but to realize someone else had figured it out made my mouth drop.

Mr. Carter's chest heaved as he laughed again. "There's no one I trust more to give a loan to. Heck, I'd lend Dean the whole bank if I could. But only because I know he's one that'll pay it back." The man elbowed me lightly in the ribs then.

"Didn't know your dad had such good standing, did you?" I shook my head and felt dumb as I said, "No, sir." Mr. Carter sighed. "Yes, Dean's a quiet one. But he always gets done what needs doing. You know what I like best about him?"

I shook my head again, completely baffled.

"I like that he doesn't act all hoity-toity like some families around here. By the way some people in this town carry on, you'd think they owned the whole county when none of them have half the investments your father has." 234

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I had to concentrate to keep my mouth from falling open again. Yes, my dad was definitely a quiet one. He'd kept quiet about his "good standing" at the bank so well his own family didn't know what we had.

"Now, come eat some supper with us, Carrie," Mr. Carter said, as he drew me along behind him, "so I can pry the name of this secret poet out of you." I pulled to a halt. "Secret poet?"

"Oh, yes." Mrs. Carter came up beside us. She looked excited. "We're all avid readers of The Central Record here. We're just dying to know who's been writing those beautiful poems."

"Do you like them?" I glanced at Luke before looking at his parents. And the shock I read on his face told me their affection for his poems was news to him.

"Like them? Why, I love them," Mrs. Carter said. Mr. Carter shook his head. "I can't believe someone from Stillburrow is actually that good. I've never seen such talent around these parts. And I don't even like poetry." He pounded a fist to his chest. "But something about those poems gets me right here."

Suddenly, I grinned. "Well, I'm sorry. But I can't tell you who it is." I bit my lip as I glanced from a blushing Luke to his parents. "I'm sworn to secrecy."

"I told you so."

I opened my eyes and glanced up. Lying on the Carter's couch with Luke behind me, I pressed my back more snugly against his chest and he wrapped his hand around my waist. Supper had been wonderful. The Carter parents continued 235

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their attempt to coax the secret poet's name out of me as Luke played footsie with me under the table. Yes, I had to admit, I really liked Luke's mom and dad. I'd been so sure they would be snobs and freeze me out. I was glad to be wrong.

After supper, Luke led me into the den so we could rest on the sofa. I closed my eyes, guilty about being thankful I wasn't home where I had to watch my brother's pain.

"What'd you tell me so?" I said. I was still in shock, but I was quickly getting used to this new state. I wasn't worthless. My family wasn't poverty stricken, and I was good enough to date Luke Carter. I'm not sure how I'd ever gotten myself so mixed up into believing everyone else was better than me. Maybe it had been my mother's own mistaken beliefs that had rubbed off. But I was glad it wasn't sticking.

"I told you my parents weren't that bad and you were worrying over nothing."

I snorted. He felt warm and comfortable snuggled up behind me. "You did not tell me that."

"Oh, yes, I did," he said.

I shook my head. "All you said to me was, 'Get out of the car.'"

"No. That's not what I said." He paused. "Was it?"

"That's exactly what you said."

"Oh, well." I felt him shrug. "I meant to say my parents weren't as awful as you thought."

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I laughed and covered his hand with mine, interweaving our fingers. "You're such a liar," I murmured and rubbed my cheek against his.

I felt his smile. "I love you too." For a moment, neither of us said anything. We simply soaked in the feel of each other. Then I turned so I could face him. I rested my chin on his arm. "So much has changed," I said.

Luke reached up and slid a piece of my hair behind my ear.

"I know."

"Abby Eggrow's dead and Marty's going to have to get over that." At Luke's nod, I went on. "We're officially a couple." I nestled my cheek against his chest and stared up at the ceiling. "I'm acing my trigonometry tests. And you're the best writer in town. Two months ago, none of that was true. Two months ago, everything was normal."

"Do you wish it were that way again?" I shrugged. "What's the use? It can't be." Luke touched my face with his thumb. "But what would you change if you could?"

When I glanced up at him, I saw the uncertainty in his eyes. He was actually worried I would want to change being with him. It gave me a silent thrill to know someone liked me that much, that he really loved me for me. And I was completely serious when I said, "This may sound awful. But if everything that's happened, happened so I could end up here like this with you, then I wouldn't change a thing."

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He smiled and kissed me lightly. When he pulled back, his eyes were shining. "That does sound pretty bad," he said. I elbowed him in the ribs and he grunted, only to come back and tickle me. I tried to wiggle away and control the urge to laugh, but it ended up we made quite a commotion. Rolling off the sofa in our scuffle, we both landed on the floor. Luke grabbed my wrists, so I couldn't attack him. Then he loomed over me so he could say, "But I feel the same way." My breath caught in my chest as I stared up at him. He was so beautiful, his nose, his eyes and his dimple—even the scar at the corner of his eyebrow—seemed like they were perfectly placed to make this outstanding creature for me. Luke Carter was destined for great things. And he was going to be by my side through them all.

He'd turned me, Carrie Paxton—the Nobody of Stillburrow—into Carrie Paxton, editor of the school paper. And he was going to turn Stillburrow—a dead-end town in the middle of nowhere—into the childhood city of a famous poet. It suddenly reminded me of Abby Eggrow and history class. I looked up at Luke. "Ever heard of Appomattox Court House?" I asked.

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A word about the author...

Linda grew up on a dairy farm in the Midwest as the youngest of eight children. Now she lives in Kansas with her husband and nine cuckoo clocks. She works in a library and has always loved books: reading, writing, and organizing them. The Stillburrow Crush is her first story published by The Wild Rose Press.

Visit her at www.lindakage.com

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