Bonnie K Winn - Substitute Father p.02

The prospect was unsettling, yet somehow it crept beneath her skin and went
straight to her heart. Falling into the black-and-white world of cinema that she
loved, Kealey found her nerves calming bit by bit, scene by scene.
“Hepburn and Tracy didn’t make this movie until the early fifties,” Luke
commented.
“I know,” Kealey replied confidently. “I’ve seen everything they’ve done—from
their first film, Woman of the Year.”
Luke nodded. “You know, Katherine Hepburn wanted Tracy to star in The
Philadelphia Story with her before that, but the studio chose Cary Grant.”
Kealey’s head swiveled toward him in surprise. “I didn’t know that.” She paused,
her words a reluctant admission. “And I thought I knew a lot about them.”
Luke’s voice was casual, easy. It was obvious he enjoyed sharing the
information; this was no attempt to impress her with the knowledge. “Actually,
she’d never met Spencer Tracy, but she’d seen everything he had done and admired
his work. So she bought the rights to Woman of the Year, went to Louis B. Mayer
and offered him the script, along with herself as the female lead for the
bargain price of $250,000. Her only stipulation was that Spencer Tracy be given
the lead opposite her.”
“Really?” she questioned, completely fascinated.
“Yep. She met Spencer Tracy on one of the side lots at MGM. She was a tall woman
for that time, over five foot seven and she was wearing high heels. Tracy was
about 5’10”. When producer Joe Mankowitz introduced them, she said something
like, ‘Sorry I’ve got these high heels on, but when we do the movie I’ll be
careful about what I wear.’”
“And what did Tracy say?” Kealey promptly asked.
Luke smiled. “Apparently Tracy just looked at her with those great lion eyes of
his. But Joe Mankowitz had something to say.”
“What?” she urged.
“He said, ‘Don’t worry, Kate. He’ll cut you down to his size.’”
“I wonder what Tracy really thought of her,” Kealey mused.
“Katherine Hepburn said he thought she was peculiar at first.”
Kealey’s laugh was soft. “Hardly an auspicious beginning for what many people
consider the romance of the last century.”
“I don’t know. They spent twenty-seven years together. And according to
Katherine Hepburn, he made her understand for the first time what it meant to be
in love.”
She swallowed. “That’s really beautiful. Hardly anyone stays together that long
anymore.”
Luke’s arm rested lightly on her shoulders. “I don’t know. It’s pretty much a
tradition in my family.”
Of course it was. Feeling suddenly bereft, she couldn’t offer a response. She
had no traditions, no family, no belief in forever.
Luke began gently stroking her hair, his own quiet signaling that he didn’t need
or expect a reply. For a brief moment, her eyes drifted closed and she imagined
what it would be like to sit beside this man for the next thirty or forty some
odd years, to have these beautiful children’s own children nestled by their
feet.
As she wondered, the old movie continued to play, the familiar words and images
a comfort. However, as she’d predicted, the children began nodding off. And
before the movie ended, Luke started scooping up limp little bodies. With
Kealey’s help, he put them all to bed.
Brian and Troy were first. Tucked into twin beds, Luke made certain they were
settled in, then switched on a discreet night-light that banished the utter
darkness with a faint glow. Luke had confided that Brian still had a few
lingering nightmares. Impulsively, Kealey bent over this oldest, bravest little
soldier and kissed his forehead.
While Luke finished tucking in Troy, Kealey saw to Hannah in the next room.
Tugging the blanket up over little Hannah, she felt a fierce longing in her
heart to have these children for her very own.
Hearing Luke’s quiet tread as he entered the room, she glanced up, trying to
force away the longing. “They look awfully sweet when they’re sleeping, don’t
they?” she whispered.
“They’re not so bad awake, either,” he whispered back.
They paused in the hallway outside Hannah’s room. Hesitantly, Kealey glanced at
Luke’s bedroom, wondering if this was it.
He took her elbow, however, steering her toward the stairs. “We’ve got a movie
to finish watching.”
She swallowed, knowing there was little more than half an hour left of the film.
But it was a reprieve.
Kealey was amazed, however, when the movie ended, and Luke withdrew another
Hepburn-Tracy film video from a sack.
“Adam’s Rib?”
He nodded. “Arguably their best.”
“No. That would have to be Keeper of the Flame.”
By then the credits were rolling, and they settled back on the couch, continuing
to argue the merits of each film, pausing to appreciate the witty dialogue that
hadn’t dimmed over time, nibbling on popcorn from a shared bowl.
And without realizing how or when it happened, they slid closer together,
laughing long and hard at the same things.
And the hours passed, one gliding into the next, the flames in the fireplace
dimming to mere embers. Then, their eyes, too, began to droop....
* * *
She’d forgotten to close the drapes, Kealey thought sleepily. That’s why the
early-morning sunlight was stabbing at her eyes, forcing her to awaken. She
reached to cover her eyes, but her hand wouldn’t move; it seemed stuck.
With one eye open, she turned her head slightly. But the other eye popped open
when she realized the view wasn’t from the bed in her own apartment. Instead,
her face was pushed against Luke’s chest. His muscular, broad chest.
Fascinated, she watched the even rise and fall of his breathing, allowing her
gaze to travel up to his face, strongly tempted to trace the strong features.
They must have fallen asleep. Sometime between movies, popcorn and laughter,
they’d drifted off. And now she was wound around Luke as though she belonged
there.
Apparently sensing her gaze on him, Luke’s eyes opened as well. And something
unfathomable happened to the blue of his eyes, transforming them to near ebony
as he continued to meet her gaze.
Kealey realized, somewhere in the last remaining fragments of her logic, that
she should pull away, to disconnect their warm bodies. But Luke’s eyes were
still on hers.
He tilted his head, the angle putting his lips a breath away from hers.
Instantly she remembered his kiss at their wedding ceremony, making her feel as
if she were falling, connected to reality through what was only supposed to be a
simple kiss.
She expected to again be kissed, but he spoke. “Good morning,” he murmured, his
voice low, husky, saturated with sleep...and perhaps something more.
Her gaze darted between his lips and eyes, and she felt her own mouth part as
though it wanted to repeat that kiss. It was madness to long for what she’d
hoped to postpone the previous evening.
But the debate in her mind stilled, when ever so gently his lips met hers. It
was a tender exploration, a beckoning to something she hadn’t even known was
hidden beneath competency and loneliness.
For the first time, Kealey thought she could almost persuade herself that she
was like all other women, that she could find security, perhaps even learn to
trust. In the end, even the evoking promise of his lips couldn’t make her really
believe that.
Reluctantly, she drew back and saw disappointment dim his expression. She wanted
to reverse her last motion, or at the least to explain why she’d withdrawn. But,
that, too, wasn’t in her.
To her surprise, instead of questioning her, Luke reached out, tucking back a
few strands of hair that had fallen across her cheek. Shaken by his
excruciatingly tender touch, she closed her eyes.
His words were filled with quiet understanding. “We have to get moving. The kids
will be up soon and we’d better have breakfast going.”
Her eyes opened. The kids. For a few minutes she’d forgotten about them. And
they were the reason she’d suggested this entire arrangement. Moving away from
Luke, she immediately missed the warm contact.
“How come you guys are sleeping on the couch?” Troy asked as he stumbled into
the living room, wiping at his sleep-filled eyes.
“We got to watching movies,” Luke explained.
“And stayed up past your bedtime?” Troy asked.
Kealey’s eyes met Luke’s, and amusement flowed between them.
“Guess you could say that,” Luke replied, his lip twitching only marginally.
Kealey forced her thoughts away from Luke. “We were just saying we need to get
breakfast going. Why don’t you come help me make some orange juice?”
Troy nodded. “I like the stirring part.”
Kealey stood, looping an arm around Troy’s shoulder. “Then stirring it’ll be.
How do pancakes sound?”
“Yum. Chocolate chip?”
She ruffled his hair. “I don’t think so. Not on a school day. I think we’ll
stick to blueberry.” She glanced back at Luke, unable to completely conceal her
longing. “It’s just another day.”
* * *
A few hours later, the children safely off to school, the dishes done, the house
straightened, Kealey prepared to head back to her apartment. There hadn’t been
that much to do. Luke had been a self-sufficient bachelor, accustomed to keeping
his home neat. And the kids had all made their beds and put away their things.
Kealey had taken a few days off from work, a novelty for her, and she needed to
keep herself busy. Collecting her purse and keys, she was surprised to see Luke
coming out of his clinic.
“Good timing,” he greeted her. “How about some lunch?”
“It’s a little early for lunch,” she hedged. “I’m going to my apartment to
finish packing.”
“I’ll help,” he replied.
“It’s not necessary,” she protested.
“You know I have Dr. Gates covering my practice,” he told her. “I was just
checking on our boarders. Besides, Wayne will be here if anything comes up while
we’re gone.”
“But—”
“Didn’t anyone ever tell you that you’re a girl?”
She blinked. “Girl?”
“Woman, female, member of the gentler sex. One who could use some help with a
few heavy boxes.”
One brow lifted skeptically. “From a big, macho man like you?”
Despite the tone of her voice, he grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”
She rolled her eyes. “Another one of those Texas mannerisms?”
“Afraid so,” he replied, taking her elbow, guiding her to the door. “We should
probably take my Bronco. More room for the boxes.”
Kealey opened her mouth to protest, then realized this man operated like a
steamroller. “I’m sure you have a ton of things in the clinic you’ve wanted to
catch up on. This is your opportunity.”
He met her gaze, his own dark and a tad mysterious. “I like to choose my own
opportunities.”
Unable to even begin to think of a reply, she allowed him to lead her to his
car, then drive to her apartment. Even as she unlocked her front door, she
couldn’t believe he’d taken such complete control. That was something she’d
never allowed—at least since she’d become an adult.
The apartment didn’t look a lot different to Luke than before she’d begun to
move out. It wasn’t that it looked neglected, rather it lacked character. And he
now suspected why.
“I got most of my clothes the other day,” Kealey was saying.
He wandered into the kitchen. “Would you like me to pack the dishes, pots and
pans?”
She seemed to be concentrating deeply. “I guess so. But really, you could leave
me to this and just help me carry out the boxes in a few hours.”
“Kealey?”
Finally she looked up, still not completely drawn out of her contemplation.
“Hmmm?”
“Has it occurred to you that I might want to be here, with you?”
Apparently it hadn’t. Flustered, she gestured vaguely with her hands.
But he didn’t want to extend her discomfort. “Besides, I’m an expert at moving.”
She managed a tentative smile. “I thought you’d stayed mostly in Greenville.”
“Except for college and vet school, yes. But with seven siblings, it seems like
someone’s constantly moving. And being single Uncle Luke, I’ve always been
drafted.”
She stared at him.
His next words tumbled out quickly. “Formerly single Uncle Luke.”
Kealey swallowed. “I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable about that.” She
glanced down, tilting her head at an uncertain angle. “I don’t expect you to
think like a married man.”
His own voice was quiet. “But I am a married man.”
Her look beseeched him. “We don’t have to make this more difficult than it
already is.”
“I don’t know. I wasn’t thinking it was especially difficult.”
Her hands twisted, a telltale sign of nerves. “Well, I’m not casual and
easygoing like you. I wish I were. I’ve always wished I could be like other
people—taking things in stride, not tensing over the least little bit of
nothing.”
“Why would you wish that?” he asked, his voice still quiet.
Exasperated, she stared at him in silent rebuke. “How can you ask that? Doesn’t
everyone want to fit in?”
He studied her carefully. “I suppose. In some ways. But isn’t it more important
to be unique... special?”
Her voice grew strained, as though fighting bitterness and repressed tears. “I’m
neither of those things.”
He didn’t know why. But he suddenly knew it was incredibly important to convince
her how amazing she really was. “Oh, so just anyone cares enough about foster
children to become a social worker?”
She stared at him suspiciously. “Your own sister’s a social worker.”
“And I happen to think she’s a hell of a special person,” he replied. “Your
point?”
“Of course Rachel’s special, but that doesn’t mean—”
“That you are?”
Shadows mingled in the changing colors of her eyes. Blue darted past gray.
“Look...” Her eyes closed briefly, hiding that spectacular color show. And when
she opened them, it was hesitantly, as though wishing they could remain shut.
“You don’t have to do this.”
“What? Point out that the average woman doesn’t forego a social life and
personal comfort to check on the cases she’s assigned?”
“But a lot of social workers do that,” Kealey protested.
“Do they marry a foster parent to make sure three small children aren’t
separated?”
Her eyes began to shimmer and she blinked while biting down on her lower lip.
“When did you learn that habit?” Gently he ran the back of one knuckle over the
clenched lip. “Why did you have to learn not to cry, Kealey?”
She jerked back, the movement sudden and jarring. And for a moment they looked
at each other in startled dismay.
Then she turned away, presenting her back, which was rigid, unapproachable. “I
told you I really don’t need any help here.”
“Did you get enough boxes?” he asked, abruptly changing the direction of their
conversation.
“Boxes?” She glanced around, as though expecting cardboard containers to sprout
on the carpet. “Well, no, but—”
“I’ll go get some boxes, newspapers and tape. Do you have Cokes in the fridge?”
“A few, I think,” she replied, still looking distracted. “But you don’t need—”
“It won’t take me a minute. I have a friend who runs a little convenience store.
He usually has a lot of extra boxes and an unending supply of old newspapers.”
“Luke, I—”
“I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Despite the “don’t touch” warning she was
giving him, he reached forward, brushing a quick kiss across her cheek. Then he
grinned. “You’ll find I’m harder to get rid of than gum on tennis shoes.”
Still looking dazed, she didn’t reply.
Luke took advantage of the pause to dash out the door. She could scream that she
didn’t need help at the top of her lungs. But he was certain that he’d never
seen anyone who needed help more.
* * *
Kealey glanced around the small kitchen. It wouldn’t take long to pack. And
she’d just finished with the bathroom, the one room that had more paraphernalia
than any other.
She heard a loud knock, then the sound of the front door opening. “Kealey, it’s
Luke,” he called out. “Armed and ready to pack.”
His joking words caused her to smile despite her qualms. “Armed and ready to
pack?”
He came to the door of the kitchen, holding up a sack of pink foam peanuts.
“These pretty much kill the dangerous image. Gunther thought we might need them.
Between you and me I think he saw this as a great chance to unload his cache of
shipping garbage.”
“I really don’t have that much to pack.”
“Then we may have to make use of your apartment’s Dumpster. I’m afraid we have
enough material to pack up the White House.”
Her smile grew despite herself. “Surely you’re exaggerating.”
“Oh, not the one in Washington,” he replied nonchalantly. Then Luke lowered his
voice to a confidential level. “By the way, here in Texas, we haven’t really
gotten over the notion that we’re still an independent country.” His voice rose
back to normal. “At any rate, I was referring to the store on Main Street. One
side carries men’s clothing, the other women’s. The owners are Edna and George
White.”
“So it’s the White House,” she concluded, her lips curving upward in an
irrepressible grin.
“You got it.”
“This is a strange nation,” she replied, tongue in cheek. “All soft drinks are
called Cokes. And the heart of your country’s capital specializes in clothing.
Any more surprises?”
His grin was at once amused and tantalizing, as was his uncommonly husky voice.
“Oh, I think so.”
Kealey cleared her throat. “Well, I got the bathroom all packed.”
“Why don’t we work on the kitchen next?” he suggested, his gaze still full of
promise.
Kealey wanted to tell him that they could work in separate areas to get the job
completed faster.
She intended to.
Within a few minutes, however, she was working with him to wrap her meager
supply of dishes. It didn’t take long to finish.
“What next?” Luke asked. “The living room?”
She glanced in that direction. “The furniture’s all rented, except the
television and VCR. I don’t think anything else in there is mine.” Glancing up,
she saw sudden sympathy cloud his eyes. But she didn’t need his pity. “With the
hours I work, there’s not a lot of time or need for knickknacks.”
He nodded. “Does the phone still work?”
Exasperated, she glanced at him. “Do you always change subjects so abruptly?”
He smiled. “Only when I’m hungry. How about a pizza for lunch? We can stay here
and pack, not have to go out.”
Kealey had a sudden memory of endless lonely evenings when she’d considered
ordering a pizza, then hadn’t because it seemed so forlorn to order a small
pizza for one. It was like going to the movies or a restaurant by herself. They
just seemed to reinforce how alone she was. It was one of the reasons why she’d
started watching videos, which was when she’d fallen in love with old movies.
Glancing up she met Luke’s inquisitive gaze. “Sounds great.” And it did, she
realized. What did it matter that it was make-believe? Why not pretend, even for
this short time, that she was part of a couple, a family, rather than terribly,
singularly alone?
As they waited for the pizza, Luke carried the boxes from the kitchen out to his
vehicle. Then they started packing Kealey’s bedroom.
The pizza arrived and they agreed to remain settled in the middle of the bedroom
floor, to eat as they packed. The mood was companionable, one that allowed her
to trick him into eating an anchovy and one that allowed her to forget, for the
moment, how temporary this all was.
Luke was packing her books. He turned one over in his hands. “Most of these
relate to your work. Don’t you ever read for pleasure?”
Perplexed, she stared back at him. “My work is a pleasure for me.”
His gaze was gentle, yet it seemed to probe deeply. “That’s a fortunate thing
for a lot of kids.”
Inordinately pleased, she averted her gaze.
“But don’t you think you deserve a little something for yourself?”
She glanced at him in question. “I have plenty.”
His gaze wandered over her scant collection of belongings. “I don’t want to pry,
Kealey. I’m asking because I want to know about you, to understand why you seem
to have so little in your life.”
She took a deep breath, wishing she hadn’t allowed herself to become so
comfortable. “You know that I was a foster child.” She shrugged as she stated
the obvious. “Thus, no affluent background. Because I’d been part of the foster
system I simply became a social worker, so I don’t deserve your praise for that
decision.”
“You suffered and knowing how that felt, you’re trying to prevent others from
suffering. Sorry, but that still makes you special.”
She bit her lip again. How was this man able to say things that hit every
well-hidden target?
His voice gentled even further. “Even though you were in the foster system,
weren’t you able to keep any special mementos?”
“From what?” Kealey asked, acceptance dulling any lingering bitterness.
“Didn’t you like your foster parents?”
“I got moved around a lot.” She sighed, a heartfelt sound that echoed around
them. “That’s why I was... why I am convinced a two-parent home is better for
children. Unless both parents are deficient, the kids have better odds than
one-on-one with a single adult.”
“You had bad single foster parents?”
She hesitated. There was no easy answer. Surely no short one. “Let’s just say
that I know what that experience is all about, firsthand.”
“Is that why you went above and beyond for our kids?”
Our kids? Is that how he really thought about them? And then there were her
feelings for Luke, ones she knew she could never express...
“Whatever the reason,” he answered for her. “They’re lucky kids.”
Kealey shrugged. “I’m the lucky one. They’re great kids, ones who deserve a
future.” Finally she met his gaze. “And they’ll get that with you.”
“I’m guessing that’s a pretty big compliment, considering your conviction about
two-parent homes.”
“Sometimes,” she began hesitantly, still feeling the sting of her error in
judgment, “I become so convinced of certain things that I refuse to look for the
exception until it’s too late.”
Luke shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve tried to put myself in your place. You walk
into a house crowded with kids, animals and an entire pack of relatives. And
then you come face-to-face with the jerk who took you on a blind date and didn’t
have enough sense to realize he was with someone pretty special.”
Ridiculously, her eyes began to moisten and raw emotion lodged in her throat.
“And even then, when the jerk began to berate you, you kept the best interest of
the children in mind. Most people would have snatched away the kids, leaving me
in the dust, wishing I’d had either good sense or at least good manners.”
Kealey started to bite down on her lip again. But Luke was faster, his thumb
caressing her lower lip, blocking her access to it.
Then his mouth closed over hers.
Again she sensed the questioning in his kiss. But the feeling that lingered long
after the kiss was his excruciating tenderness. And that, she knew, would be the
most difficult to forget.



CHAPTER TWELVE

The stray looked horrible, not just dirty and underfed, but as though something
was terribly wrong with him. Brian was gazing at Luke with hope, no doubt sure
that his new hero and father couldn’t fail him. Kealey was looking at Luke with
equal trepidation.
“You can fix him, can’t you, Luke?” Brian was asking, his voice a plea.
Luke’s large hands probed gently over the gray dog’s abdomen. “You found him by
the side of the road?”
“Uh-huh,” Brian bobbed his head up and down earnestly. “Just to the side on the
gravel part. He looked like he was asleep, ’cept he was making a funny kind of
noise. He wouldn’t get up, so I had to bring him home in Troy’s wagon.”
Luke’s face was sober. “Brian, I’m going to do my best with him, but he’s in
pretty bad shape.”
“But you fix all kinds of sick animals!” Brian protested.
“I know, but this one’s hurt badly. It looks as though he was hit by a car. I’ll
run X rays and get him into surgery right away, but he may not make it.”
Brian’s eyes widened in shock as he stared at Luke in disbelief.
Luke stood up, meeting Kealey’s eyes. “Could you take Brian into the house?”
“But we could stay and help—” Brian started to protest.
“Wayne and I will do our best,” Luke replied, his voice compassionate but firm.
“And to do that we’ll need everyone out of our way.”
Kealey put her hand on Brian’s shoulder. “Let’s go make some cookies for your
brother and sister. It’ll make the time go faster.”
* * *
Although they made several batches of cookies, the time still crawled by. Troy
and Hannah, filled in on the emergency, sat quietly beside their brother.
None of them had even tasted one of the dozens of cookies. She should take them
to a shelter, Kealey thought inanely, so they didn’t go to waste.
Luke pushed open the kitchen door at that moment and she and the kids took a
collective breath.
Luke looked only at Brian.
And Kealey knew at that instant the news was as bad as she’d suspected.
Brian ran over to Luke, his gaze filled with both fear and hope. “Is he okay?”
Luke’s face, sober and drawn, tightened even more as he knelt down beside him.
“I’m afraid not.”
Brian stared at him as though by doing so Luke would change his reply. “He’s
really...”
Luke nodded. “I’m sorry, son. I wish I could have done better.”
Brian’s eyes started to fill.
Instinctively, Luke drew him close, Brian’s head resting on his shoulder as the
tears escaped.
Hannah and Troy looked at their brother and then Kealey. She took both their
hands and they watched silently as their brother grieved.
Minutes later, Brian lifted his head. He and Luke exchanged a few quiet words,
ones Kealey and the other children couldn’t hear. When Brian’s tears finally
ceased, Luke stood, keeping his arm around the boy’s shoulders.
Together they faced the others as Luke spoke. “Brian has agreed that we should
have a funeral in the backyard now.”
Hannah and Troy nodded soberly.
Quietly, they all filed out the back door. Wayne stood to one side of a freshly
dug grave. No doubt he’d been hard at work while Luke broke the news. Kealey saw
Luke’s wooden tool crate had been taken from the garage. Apparently it had been
hastily emptied to provide a makeshift coffin.
“Is the dog inside?” Hannah whispered.
Luke nodded, then tightened his grip on Brian’s shoulder. “We wrapped him in a
blanket first.”
“So he’ll be warm,” Hannah said.
Kealey met Luke’s eyes. There would be no more warmth for this poor animal.
Keeping her voice low, she questioned him. “Did the dog have a collar?”
Luke shook his head. “He was clearly a stray.”
They gathered around the small pile of upturned earth.
Luke still stood beside Brian. “I think we should say a few words over this dog.
Sadly, we never knew his name or if he had a home at one time. But he’s one of
God’s creatures, one who deserves our care and respect. While he hasn’t had a
home for some time, perhaps never did, he was not without fortune. Because
someone did care. Young Brian Baker cared enough to rescue him from a cold and
lonely end. For a brief time he had a champion, and now he’ll rest in our yard,
and we’ll remember him, and how he touched our lives.”
There was quiet after Luke’s words and Brian swiped at the tears still lingering
in his eyes.
Then Luke asked Brian, “Do you want to say something?”
Slowly Brian nodded. “I’m sorry we didn’t get to know you, dog. You would have
liked Luke, cause he cares about dogs and kids and anybody else that don’t have
a home. And like he said, we’ll remember you and maybe our mama can make sure
you’re okay in Heaven.”
Kealey hadn’t realized her tears had started until her cheeks were wet and her
vision blurred. Unable to wipe them away without releasing Troy and Hannah’s
hands, she willed them away, yet they continued to slide relentlessly down her
face. She knew she was crying for more than this dog. She was crying for all
strays like herself, the children who were thrust daily into an overcrowded
foster system with no one like Luke to care or make a difference.
At a nod from Luke, Wayne picked up the wooden box and placed it gently in the
grave. Then he walked over to the shovel, holding it out to Brian. “The first
shovelful should be yours.”
Brian looked up at Luke for confirmation, then accepted the shovel. He pitched
the newly turned soil onto the box, his voice barely audible. “Goodbye, little
dog.”
Then, one by one, they each took their turns. Luke was last. He then handed the
shovel to Wayne, who had apparently agreed to complete the burial once the kids
were inside.
Kealey couldn’t resist one last look over her shoulder as they walked into the
house. The grave didn’t seem as sad and forlorn surrounded by the quiet beauty
of Luke’s yard.
Still, once in the kitchen, the kids were quiet. Although Kealey tempted them
with hot dogs, no one ate much. Homework was completed in near silence. One by
one, the kids began to troop upstairs. Brian was the last. As Kealey stood in
the kitchen, he paused on the first riser. Swiftly he turned back around,
reaching up to hug Luke. Then he ran up the stairs.
Unaware that she was watching, Luke’s face was a swarm of emotions. It was the
first time she’d seen him look vulnerable, defeated. And the love that she had
for him swelled.
The next few hours passed quietly. Luke was deep in thought, his face somber,
and Kealey was awash in reflections of her own.
The night lengthened and he finally stood. “I’ll say good-night.”
She swallowed, smothering her doubts. “I’ll come upstairs now, too.”
He looked at her in surprise, but nodded, reaching to flip off the lights.
It was unlike her, Kealey knew. She’d made excuses to stay up later, then crept
up the stairs to stealthily climb into the bed. Then she would hang on to the
edge of her side of the bed, keeping as much space as possible between them, not
relaxing until she finally heard the change in Luke’s breathing that told her he
was asleep.
Always an early riser, she made sure she was up and out of the room before he
was. She probably would have risen at 3:00 a.m. if it had been necessary.
Never before had she accompanied him up the stairs, with the darkness of the
first floor disappearing beneath them. But never before had she felt such need
to make someone believe again in himself.
Inside the bedroom, her jitters returned. Her glance darted around the room,
resting on her portion of the dresser. It didn’t look at all like she’d left it
that morning.
Slowly she crossed the room, fingering the antique dresser set, a tortoiseshell
comb, brush and mirror. She glanced over at Luke. “Where did this come from?”
Still deep in thought, he glanced up and saw her holding the boar-bristle brush.
“I thought you might like it.”
Fingers tentative, nearly shaking, she stroked the beautiful amber-colored
pieces. “But...”
“It’s a little thing, Kealey, and I thought it suited you. The colors change
under different lights—much like your eyes.”
“It’s not my birthday or—”
“It doesn’t have to be,” he interrupted quietly. “Sometimes, people need to give
just for the joy of giving.”
Slowly she nodded, overcome by his thoughtfulness. He’d been giving her
inexpensive little gifts since the day he’d learned she owned virtually nothing.
It was as though he were building a cache that she could claim as her own.
Combined with how she was already feeling about his behavior that day, she
couldn’t speak.
But he was very right, sometimes a person needed to give—just as she did right
now. She needed to offer him comfort, to prove he was still their hero.
Luke shrugged off his T-shirt and kicked away his jeans. Mesmerized, Kealey
stood in front of the dresser mirror watching him. Well-defined muscles, so firm
they didn’t even ripple, covered his chest, arms and legs. His perfectly tapered
torso looked as though it belonged on a male model. But the masculine features
of his face were far too rugged.
They were meant to appeal to women.
And they did.
Quietly, she collected her nightgown, escaping into the bathroom to change.
Gazing into the mirror, she searched her own eyes, trying to see what Luke did.
Unable to see beyond her uncertainty and neediness, she looked away. Still, she
remembered his need, the only need left unattended since he was always giving to
others.
Luke had left one lamp on in the room, the one on her nightstand, the one he’d
added just for her. The dim glow illuminated the bed. With shaky hands, she
turned off the light. And in the sudden darkness the click echoed, unbelievably
loud. The only sound in the room, Kealey realized. Luke’s breathing was quiet,
controlled. He had to be awake.
Inhaling a deep breath of her own, she eased onto the bed. The sheets were cool,
not the icy cold of winter, but refreshingly cool. Inhaling, she could smell the
faint tang of his cologne, the subtle aroma of his soap.
She slid closer to the middle of the bed. Closer to Luke.
And his breathing changed.
It wasn’t transforming into the rhythm of sleep, however. It had quickened,
deepened.
For a moment she froze.
But her instincts told her it wasn’t the time to back down, to run away.
She inched over another millimeter. Then another.
Just as she was gathering her courage, Luke flipped from his back to his side.
Before she could think, his face was next to hers, his body within a handspan.
“Kealey?” he questioned, baffled, intrigued, tempted.
Somewhere between his inquiry and her answer, she reached out, tentatively
touching his chest. Her fingers trembled, then spread against his skin. To her
amazement, the skin covering his muscles felt like velvet. But then nothing
about Luke had ever been rough. Strong, but not rough.
And it was that gentle strength that he reached out with, his arms drawing her
close to him. Swallowing, Kealey kept her gaze on his as he stroked her hair,
then kissed the most tender skin of her neck. The kisses were gentle nibbles
that started somewhere near her throat and traveled in slow succession to the
underside of her chin.
Then the butterfly kisses touched her eyelids, whispered along her cheek and
captured her lips. It wasn’t so much one eruption; rather it was the constant
explosion of a fireworks display.
His hands caressed her shoulders, pushing down the straps of her willowy gown.
The air teased her bared skin as did the whisper of his breath as it traced her
silhouette. How could a touch so light, so sure, create such immense sensation?
And how could she be so ready to fall headlong and helpless into this man’s
embrace? Even as she wondered, he sketched the contours of her rib cage, pausing
at the indentation of her waist, lingering over the slope of her hips, then
walking his fingers down the length of her thigh.
Somehow she remembered to breathe. As he retraced the path upward, his gaze
again met and held hers. And before he lowered his mouth to hers, he extracted
an unspoken promise, one that said she was aware, certain, that this would not
be a solitary act, nor one born of mere physical need. And she, Kealey
Fitzpatrick, disbeliever of all promises, silently believed.
Limbs somehow entangled themselves, skin sought skin, lips encountered,
challenged, gasped and encountered again.
His hands smoothed the hair back from her face and she felt the power of his
gaze, the intensity of his touch. And she fell in love with him all over again.
Luke cupped her head in his hands, unable to believe this was his Kealey. His
Kealey? As if that could possibly be.
Yet even now her fragile but potent touch was sending him rocketing into an
orbit he hadn’t known existed.
Closing his eyes, he remembered the agony of the day and knew this was her gift,
her quiet show of support and belief.
Chasing away the thoughts, she nipped gently on his earlobe, her voice a siren’s
murmur, her rapid heartbeat a thrumming call. But it was the expression in her
eyes that vaulted past excitement and treaded on his heart.
He had seen her tears that day, had glimpsed part of her he’d never seen before.
And that was why he’d made sure she was ready to take this step. He sensed
without being told that she’d suffered great pain in her life. He didn’t want to
add to it.
She reached up just then, caressing his jaw. Capturing her hand, he kissed each
finger, exulting in her sighs of pleasure.
Then he was cradling her body, her cries lost in his own.



CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Kealey pushed aside a growing stack of case files. The numbers were
discouraging, but then the cases never decreased. However, every once in a
while, like today, she was able to be a part of placing a child in a permanent
home. A safe, loving home with wonderful people who were thrilled to have a
five-year-old boy to complete their family.
“Hey, Kealey, nice job today,” Rachel greeted her.
Kealey smiled, remembering the adoption that morning, the hugs that filled the
courtroom. “It was great. I just wish they could all turn out that way.”
Rachel nodded. It was something every social worker hoped and worked for. “Well,
it looks like your batting average is up today.”
Kealey looked at her in question.
Rachel handed her a message slip. “You got a call from Aging Services about the
senior dog adoption. They think they’ve found your first candidate.”
Kealey smiled thoughtfully. “The kids could really use this news right now,
especially Brian. This past week they’ve all been down.”
Rachel nodded, having heard the unfortunate story of the stray Luke hadn’t been
able to save. “I guess he took it the hardest.”
“Actually I think Luke really took it to heart.”
“He would. He’s always been the protector, the rescuer.”
Kealey idly fingered the smallish piece of paper. “I think he believes he failed
the kids, let them down.”
Rachel nodded. “Even my big brother can’t win every time.” Her gaze softened.
“Although I think this time he did.”
Puzzled, Kealey glanced at her. “He did?”
“With you. Between the two of you, you’re helping a lot of people.” She glanced
down at the pink message slip. “And animals. Sounds like a pretty good
partnership to me.”
Kealey tried to wave away the words.
Rachel, however, only smiled. “Protest all you like. But remember. I’m a
hardened social worker, takes a lot to convince me.” Leaving her friend
openmouthed, Rachel strolled away.
It took Kealey a moment to recover, then she glanced down at the message slip.
Fingers crossed, she began her calls. Maybe, just maybe, she could coordinate
this. It would be absolutely miraculous to begin and end the day with good news.
* * *
Mrs. Conrad was a tiny slip of a woman. Her hair resembled silver cotton candy,
and her bright-blue eyes were filled with intelligence and kindness.
Her cozy home was tidy but filled with a lifetime of memories—family pictures, a
treasured collection of porcelain figurines and an assortment of intriguing
objects that looked faintly exotic. She had collected them when she’d traveled,
she explained, when her husband was still alive. She was alone—they hadn’t been
blessed with children—and the photos were of relatives now gone.
She ushered them in warmly, taking time to speak to each child, to learn a
little about them. But when Luke suggested he bring in the dog they’d brought,
her interest visibly peaked.
Kealey glanced at the children’s expectant faces and crossed her fingers. She
desperately hoped she hadn’t made a mistake in pushing this suggestion. Another
defeat so soon would be a disaster.
Luke returned a few moments later, leading the old Border collie on a sturdy
leather leash.
Mrs. Conrad’s eyes brightened as she studied the dog. “He looks remarkably like
my Mackie,” she marveled in a near whisper. “And I’ve missed him so much.”
Luke unhooked the leash and they all took a collective breath.
The medium-size black-and-white dog studied the room, sniffed the air and then
made his slow way over to Mrs. Conrad. Her eyes filled again as she reached
arthritic hands toward his muzzle. “Well hello, you.”
As though returning to a long-lost mistress, the dog laid his head in her lap.
The kids stared in wonder. Kealey’s gaze lifted to meet Luke’s. There she saw
approval...and so very much more.
“It’s like having an old friend come back home. Can he really be mine?” Mrs.
Conrad asked, wiping her eyes with a lace-edged handkerchief.
“If you’d like for him to be,” Luke replied. “As Kealey told you, he’s an older
dog.”
Mrs. Conrad’s gaze was discerning. “I couldn’t handle a young pup. They have so
much energy and need long walks and someone who can really play with them.
That’s why I didn’t get another pet after my Mackie...” She paused, then petted
the Border collie. “It looks as though this one and I go about the same speed.”
Kealey finally smiled. “You do seem like a good match.”
Mrs. Conrad smiled as well. “What’s his name?”
“We’re not real sure,” Brian replied. “We thought maybe you might want to name
him.”
“I think I’d like that,” Mrs. Conrad answered softly. Then she glanced up. “Do I
pay an adoption fee?”
Luke shook his head. “You’ve enriched us, just knowing what a fine home this dog
will have. He has a license. It’s on his collar and all his shots are
up-to-date.” He walked over to her, handing her a card. “If he needs any medical
care, or just routine shots, call me. We’ll come pick him up and take care of
him.”
“I am on a fixed income, but I do like to pay my way,” she told them, concern
pulling the smile from her face.
“Mrs. Conrad, we can’t possibly repay you for giving him a loving home. Few
people would accept an elderly dog. Providing medical care is the least I can do
to repay you,” Luke told her in all seriousness.
Her smile slowly returned. “You’re an exceptional young man.” Then she glanced
down at the Border collie. “And you’re right, we senior citizens have to stick
together.” Then her gaze lifted to include them all. “What a special family you
are.”
Kealey’s gaze collided with Luke’s and she couldn’t look away.
Mrs. Conrad’s soft voice had paused, but now she spoke again. “I think a dog’s
name should be meaningful, filled with character. So I believe I will call my
new friend Duncan, if that’s all right with you.”
Luke was the first to speak. “It would be an honor.” He turned to include the
kids. “Right?”
Beaming smiles covered their faces. One by one they bid Duncan goodbye, offering
pats, kisses and murmurs of how much they would miss him.
After they’d climbed back into Luke’s SUV and buckled in, Kealey turned to
assess their expressions. Hannah and Troy looked cheery, Brian thoughtful.
“You okay?” she asked him quietly.
“Uh-huh. I kind of miss him.”
“That’s natural. It’s when we don’t miss those who go away that we should worry.
He looked pretty happy to be with Mrs. Conrad.”
“She was nice, huh?”
“Very.” Kealey hesitated. “And I think she needed him more than we do.”
“So she wouldn’t be alone?”
“Exactly. We have Bentley, Miles, Ginger, Kate, Spencer and Miss Tansy.”
Brian seemed to consider this. “Dogs make good friends.”
“Like Bentley?” she asked softly.
He finally smiled. “Yeah, he’s the best.”
She smiled, too. “That’s how Miss Conrad’s going to feel about Duncan.”
“Then that’s good,” he decided.
Turning back around, she realized Luke’s attention was on her. “Are you happy
about the match we just made?” she asked anxiously.
His grin made Mrs. Conrad’s smile dim in comparison. “You did great. I thought I
was pretty good at placing strays, but you’ve become an expert.”
She tried to demur.
“Face it. You’re an expert with kids and animals.”
Inexplicably pleased, Kealey didn’t know how to respond.
But Luke didn’t seem to need an answer. Instead, he placed one hand on her knee.
His touch conveyed both comfort and a spark of shared pleasure.
When he took his gaze off the road for a moment, she could read what he was
thinking—about the previous night’s passion. It seemed hard to believe that each
night escalated beyond the last.
Luke dragged his attention back to the small bit of traffic on the road. “I feel
like celebrating.” He met her questioning look. “About Duncan and all. Do you
feel like having dinner out?”
Kealey thought about the briefcase full of paperwork she’d brought home and for
the first time in her career, decided it could wait. “Sure.”
Luke raised his voice, calling out to the kids. “How about going to Buck’s for
dinner?”
Cheers greeted his words. Kealey couldn’t repress a smile. Luke could suggest
sardines on a hard rock in the freezing cold and they’d think it was wonderful
because it was his idea.
“Buck’s Tavern?” she asked him, vaguely remembering an old Western ranch house
with that name.
“Best barbecue this side of Dallas. They have a long-neck beer bar, a sawdust
dance floor, and a jukebox filled with country-and-western tunes that are older
than we are. Not too uptown, but it’s real family friendly. Kind of the Texas
version of a pub except they serve Lone Star beer instead of ale.”
She smiled, unaware that she was doing more and more of that these days. When he
returned it with a grin of his own, the warm spot that was growing inside took
another giant step forward.
It didn’t take long to reach Buck’s, even less time to order and receive their
food.
She took a bite of her barbecue beef sandwich, prepared to make a polite
comment. But the taste of the juicy, slow-cooked, mesquite-grilled meat silenced
her.
“And you thought it was just another sandwich,” Luke told her in a voice filled
with knowing laughter.
“I’m a believer now,” she responded. “How is it you know about every little
restaurant in town?”
“I’ve lived here forever,” he reminded her. When she automatically began to
close up, he reached for her hand. “But anyone can learn. Especially with the
right guide. And it won’t take forever to make you feel like a native, too.”
“It won’t?” she asked, unable to hide the shakiness in her voice...or her heart.
“Nah.” He played with the gold band on her left hand. “Sometimes it’s part of
the package deal.”
Hope, that had been blossoming for months, beat frantically against the walls of
her chest. Could she start believing that there might be a forever for them?
Remembered pain burst through the hope. Glancing at Luke and the children, she
realized that they deserved more. They deserved someone as unscarred as Luke
himself.
She was quiet as they finished their sandwiches. The waitress brought over
dishes of homemade peach cobbler with generous scoops of ice cream. Even though
it was delicious, she only took a few small bites. Someone plunked more quarters
in the jukebox and a soft tune about lost love began to play.
Luke pushed aside his dessert. “That dance floor looks downright abandoned. Want
to help me do something about that?”
Kealey didn’t know which was worse. To be held in his arms, or to wish to be
there. She raised her chin. Their relationship might be short-term, but why
should she deny herself the pleasure of this brief time? Standing, she allowed
him to lead her onto the scarred wooden floor.
Her head fit naturally against his shoulder and their hips aligned perfectly as
their legs moved in unison.
Luke inhaled the sweet, feminine smell of her soft hair. Soft hair, soft
skin...possibly a soft heart? Although he relished their nights of passion,
she’d yet to loosen the tight lock on her heart.
He worried that once the adoption was in place, she would walk away. Unable to
believe in permanence, promises or security, Kealey had no use for love in any
of its forms.
When they had entered their agreement, he’d thought she would come around,
modify her unyielding views. She had, however, changed only marginally. And that
seemed to be without her realization. Her past was a barricade he wasn’t certain
any man could conquer.
They turned in step to the music and she lifted her head to meet his gaze. Her
eyes were doing that mysterious changing thing again, drifting from gray to
sapphire. It reminded him of the sky meeting the ocean, the turbulence, the
force. And in their stormy centers, he glimpsed that vulnerability she almost
never exposed.
And it shot straight to his heart.
In the old dusky tavern he knew he loved her. Every ornery, rigid, uptight,
scarred inch of her. Perhaps it was the scars he loved the most, the ones that
made her give her life to children she didn’t even know and scrounge up homes
for animals she’d never before seen. All of which made her appear as though she
would give the world to be able to trust.
The realization nearly made him stumble. Her arms tightened around him
protectively. “It’s the floor, it’s not very even,” she told him, obviously not
wanting him to be worried about the fumble.
How could she not see the concern that seeped from her very pores? It was who
she was, why she made the world a better place.
Kealey leaned her head back, offering a reassuring smile. “It’s a nice song,
isn’t it?”
He hadn’t a clue what the jukebox was playing. Moving by instinct alone, he
wasn’t thinking about the music. Still he nodded as the tune faded away. But he
didn’t release her.
She cleared her throat. “I think the song’s over.”
“Another will play,” he replied, thinking he would feed the jukebox for hours if
need be.
She searched his face, but he wasn’t ready to tell her how he felt.
Instinctively, he guessed the truth would scare her away. She’d heard too many
empty promises in her life.
Then it hit him, another truth nearly as agonizing as the first. How would he
ever convince her?
The music continued playing, by turns slow and easy, then gut-wrenching and
woeful. Against all reason, she melted into his arms. And he took the moment,
knowing there would be few enough of them in which to win her trust. If that was
ever to be.



CHAPTER FOURTEEN

It was only a child’s birthday party, but Kealey was inexplicably nervous as she
helped Hannah dress. The little girl alternately stood patiently and danced up
on her toes in anticipation.
Kealey had primped and fluffed Hannah’s hair and then primped some more. Now she
was retying the bow on Hannah’s frilly dress for the third time. It was a
beautiful party dress. Flowered organza and ivory lace tiered over a starched,
full underskirt. Kealey had made certain the ivory tights matched exactly. And
Hannah’s black Mary Janes were nearly as shiny and bright as her excited eyes.
“I can’t wait for the party to start,” Hannah told her. “I haven’t been invited
to a dress-up party before.”
Kealey’s throat worked. She could see so much of herself in Hannah. And she
could remember being the same age, seeing the other girls in school being
invited to parties, but her invitation never arrived. She was the foster kid—the
odd one out in every class. Kealey couldn’t halt a flood of memories—longing to
belong, to have a home and parents and parties. Things all the other kids took
for granted. Kealey desperately wanted Hannah, Brian and Troy to have all those
things.
And in the time since she and Luke had married she had been accumulating special
little things for all of them. It wasn’t a conscious decision, but there was the
pair of expensive and distinctive tennis shoes along with equally extravagant
jeans for Brian just so that he could fit in with the other boys.
And she’d bought Troy a monster toy complex he’d been eyeing, along with all the
accessories.
With Hannah, she’d gone a little overboard, finding herself purchasing many of
the things she’d wanted for herself as a girl. And she couldn’t resist this last
gift, a precious little necklace that was perfect with the new dress.
With the necklace fastened, Hannah spun around, pausing so that Kealey could
straighten the center heart. “I wish you could stay my mommy always.”
Nonplussed, Kealey’s fingers halted midmotion. “Always?”
“Like Luke’s going to be our dad,” Hannah explained.
Kealey swallowed against the longing choking her. “You understood what we told
you before the wedding, didn’t you, sweetie? About our marriage ending when the
adoption’s final?”
“Uh-huh. But I was just wishing...”
Closing her eyes, Kealey hugged Hannah close for a moment. Then, although she
wanted to hold on to the child forever, she purposely distracted her. “So, you
really like the necklace?”
Hannah fingered the trinket. “It’s so pretty!” she exclaimed for the dozenth
time.
Kealey smiled, old memories fading, covered by these new ones. “And it looks
perfect on you.”
Hannah peered at the mirror. “Do I really look okay?”
Kealey shook her head. “Nope. You look lots more than okay. You look very
pretty.”
Hannah flung her arms around Kealey’s neck. “Pretty like you?”
Kealey’s eyes misted. How very precious this child was. “Much, much prettier.”
Then she heard a distinctive cough from the doorway. Together, she and Hannah
looked up to see Luke leaning against the door frame, watching them.
“If you ask me, you both look smashing,” he said with a wink.
Hannah giggled.
Absurdly, Kealey felt the heat of a blush crawling up her neck, warming her
face.
Then Luke drew his brows together. “Kealey, are you sure we should let Hannah go
to this party?”
Kealey and Hannah looked at him with matching dismay.
“If Hannah goes,” he continued, “won’t all the other girls be jealous because
she’s the prettiest one there?”
Relieved, Hannah laughed. “Oh, Luke!”
Oh, Luke, indeed. Kealey managed to breathe again, not realizing until just then
how important the child’s happiness was to her.
To still the fluttering in her stomach, Kealey fussed again with Hannah’s bow.
Then she remembered the present she and Hannah had picked out for the birthday
girl.
As she retrieved it, she noticed the pensive expression on Hannah’s face. “Is
something wrong, sweetie?”
“I wish Brian could come to the party.”
“The party’s only for girls,” Kealey reminded her.
“I know, I just wish...”
Kealey tilted her head, studying Hannah’s face.
Luke, too, moved closer. “Why just Brian? Not Troy, too?”
Hannah shook her head. “No, it’s just that...”
Kealey’s voice softened. “What is it?”
Hannah pushed her toe of her shiny party shoe into the nap of the rug. “Just
that Brian didn’t have a birthday this year.”
Confused, Kealey glanced up at Luke.
“How could he not have a birthday?” Luke asked.
“It was about a week after Mama died and...”
Luke and Kealey looked at each other with horror on their faces. Although they’d
glanced at the birthdays noted in the official files, amid all the confusion and
controversy about placing the children, the timing of Brian’s birthday hadn’t
occurred to either of them.
Kealey’s gaze implored Luke to go along with her suggestion as she turned her
attention back to Hannah. “Tell you what. We’ll give Brian his own birthday
party.”
“But it’s not his birthday,” Hannah protested.
Kealey frantically searched her mind. “No. But it could be his half-year
birthday.”
“With balloons, cake and ice cream,” Luke added. “But it should be a surprise,
so you’re going to have to keep this a secret until next Saturday.”
“A whole week?” she wailed, as though they’d suggested a year rather than seven
days.
“But you’ll be helping us with the planning,” Luke told her. “So you can talk to
Kealey or me about it.”
Hannah’s brows drew together. “What about Troy?”
“How about if we wait until the end of the week to tell him? After all, he’s a
year younger than you and he may not be quite as able to keep a secret,” Kealey
replied.
Hannah considered this. “Okay.” She seemed rather pleased at knowing such a
secret. “This is the bestest time ever. A dress-up party and a secret.” She
reached up to hug first Kealey and then Luke.
Voice hoarse, Kealey agreed. “Yes, it is. Now, why don’t you go downstairs. I’ll
be there in a minute.”
Hannah skipped to the door, then the tapping of her dress shoes echoed down the
wooden stairs.
“Oh, Luke,” Kealey sighed.
“A ten-year-old boy loses his mother and has his birthday alone for the first
time...and all in a single week.”
She hesitated. “I hope my suggestion for a party was okay.”
He cupped her chin. “As you told Hannah about her appearance, it’s not okay.
It’s great.”
Her smile was wobbly. “They’re a surprise every day, aren’t they, in some way or
another?”
Luke nodded. “I keep thinking I’m getting used to them. Then a zinger like this
one hits...”
She studied him in surprise. “But you seem to take it all in stride.”
“And you seem in total control all the time. Could it be we’re both wrong?”
Kealey swallowed. She could tell him so much, confide her longings, her hopes,
even her dreams. But it still wasn’t in her. So she began to edge toward the
doorway. “I have to take Hannah to the party.”
Although he nodded, Kealey knew he realized she was escaping. Despite that, she
fled.
* * *
A week of keeping secrets, of all sorts, drove both Luke and Kealey crazy. After
bringing Troy in on the surprise early Saturday morning, Luke promptly shipped
him off to Mary’s house before he could spill the news to Brian.
Later, Luke’s parents stopped by, with the suggestion that Brian accompany them
on a shopping excursion. Luckily, since Hannah was about to burst with the
weight of her week-long secret, Luke’s family began arriving soon afterward to
help decorate and set up the party. Within a short time, the house and backyard
began to radiate under an onslaught of streamers, balloons and banners.
Mary had baked a gigantic, elaborate cake in the shape of a sports car that was
at least four layers deep with a good-size toy driver at the wheel. It was one
of a kind and sure to make Brian’s eyes pop when he saw it.
Luke’s brother, Peter, nailed a pinata to one tree while Matt hung an
old-fashioned pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey game on another. Between the siblings,
they’d brought enough games and amusements for a mini carnival.
Kealey’s breath caught when she saw Rachel’s contribution—a giant, hugely
lettered banner proclaiming Happy Birthday, Brian! When he arrived back home,
there would be no mistaking this celebration was strictly for him.
Catching Luke’s gaze across the yard, they shared a spontaneous grin. Just then
the assigned lookout signaled that Brian had returned.
It was amazing that such a big crowd of people could quiet instantly. At the
signal, the only sounds that could be heard in the backyard were the gentle
swish of the balloons and streamers in the mild breeze.
The murmur of Brian’s, Jane’s and Timothy’s voices drifted over the fence. Then
the gate creaked open.
As soon as Brian crossed into the yard, all the voices shouted in unison.
“Surprise!”
Stunned, Brian looked around at the smiling faces. Then his gaze landed on the
banner. His gaze lifted to Luke’s. “But it’s not my birthday.”
Luke winked at him. “I think Kealey has an explanation for that.”
Tremulously, she smiled at this child, one who’d borne so much pain, who needed
so desperately to simply be a child. “It’s your half-year birthday, Brian.”
His eyes widened in more surprise. “My half-year birthday?”
Kealey nodded. “It’s sort of a rule, if you don’t celebrate your birthday on the
right day, you get a half-year party.”
Glancing around the yard again, Brian looked overwhelmed. He blinked his eyes.
Hard. His voice was hoarse, low. “Wow.”
The single word warmed Kealey’s heart in a way she hadn’t known it could.
Feeling Luke’s gaze on hers, she lifted her eyes to meet his. Before she could
anticipate his intention, he reached over and gently kissed her. The soft touch
of his lips was a surprise...but more, an affirmation.
And part of her mind acknowledged that he’d kissed her in front of his entire
family. And a beat later, she realized no one had taken much notice.
Then Brian was walking forward, surrounded by his loving, surrogate family.
“Come on,” Luke was saying, taking Kealey’s elbow, leading her into the midst of
the group. “We don’t want to miss the fun.”
Initially, Brian was overcome by all the attention, but little by little, he
relaxed. As he got into the spirit of the party, a full-blown overwhelming grin
none of them had ever seen, bloomed. And in that instant he was all child again.
Soon, Brian, and his brother and sister, along with all the nieces and nephews,
were involved in the games.
About an hour into the party, Jane approached Kealey and Luke. “There’s a
delivery here for you.”
Luke started to step forward.
“For both of you,” Jane added wryly.
Kealey and Luke exchanged puzzled glances, but followed Jane to the gate.
Stepping outside, they both halted, their gazes going first to the
curious-looking party clown, and then to the man dressed in cowboy gear who was
holding the lead to a pony.
“You got a pony?” Luke asked, stunned.
“You got a clown?” she replied in equal surprise.
Jane rolled her eyes, her voice still wry. “If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a
hundred times, the number one rule in marriage is good communication.”
Shock held Luke and Kealey still, then they both burst into laughter. It was a
rare unaccustomed moment of pure joy for Kealey. And Luke was mesmerized by the
genuine pleasure that captured her face.
Laughter spent, they turned again to their dual surprises, deciding this time to
discuss how to accommodate both side shows. While the clown entertained part of
the crowd on one side of the yard, a portion of the kids could line up for pony
rides.
“So you rented a pony,” Luke commented in a satisfied voice, after the
entertainment was organized.
She bit down on her lip, finally saying wryly, “It was an impulse.”
“You have impulses?” he asked.
Exasperated, she pushed back at the hair on her forehead. “Don’t make such a big
deal out of it.”
“Me?” he asked in mock surprise. “Would I do that?”
She narrowed her eyes. “I’m not quite certain exactly what you’ll do.”
Laughter erupted from him. “No, you don’t, do you?”
She studied him suspiciously. “You don’t have another surprise planned, do you?”
His face drew into a reasonable semblance of seriousness—unless she noticed the
twinkle in his eyes. “Now, if I told you that, it wouldn’t be a surprise, would
it?”
Her mind went through the possibilities, logic slowly giving way to the
realization that he was teasing her. It was a novel experience for her. As a
child so-called teasing by the other kids was more like restrained torture. She
hadn’t known it could be fun, with kind intentions.
On the other hand, she’d always been a quick study. Her smile turned slow,
mysterious. “You’re right, of course. If we told all our surprises, they really
wouldn’t be surprises.”
Curiosity in his eyes, he tilted his head. “You gave in too easily. Have you got
something up your sleeve?”
She blinked in wide-eyed innocence. “Me? Would I do that?”
Clearly enjoying this side of her, his smile returned. “Nah, I guess not.”
Again her smile was cryptic. “Good. And I was afraid the elephant would be too
much for you.”
Incredulousness, disbelief, then dawning awareness crossed his face. “Kealey?
Good one. You got me.”
She started to turn away, then glanced back over her shoulder, lifting her brows
in a nonchalant manner. “And I was worried that the pony was too messy...”
Kealey took one step forward. But Luke was quicker. Before she could think, he’d
picked her up, looping one arm beneath her knees, the other around her
shoulders. Then they were twirling, round and round. Shock held her quiet for a
moment.
His laughter, however, was too contagious to resist. And she found herself
linking her hands behind his neck as they howled with laughter and spun some
more.
When they were finally breathless, Luke stopped twirling. But he didn’t put her
down. Instead, their bright gazes connected. And she could almost feel the touch
of his lips before they met hers. It was a slow kiss, one that sent her heart
spinning.
The noise of happy children, relatives, clowns and ponies faded. Their world
seemed suddenly small, undeniably distanced from anyone or anything. When their
mouths eased apart, their gazes remained locked together.
Luke could see so much in her eyes. Something had cracked the impenetrable
barrier she’d erected. He wondered if she was aware of the change. Or if she
still believed she could keep her distance.
He wanted to wipe away the last of her fears, to convince her that he wouldn’t
be like the people she’d known in the past, that he could be trusted and counted
upon. But all he could do was hold her in his arms, wishing he never had to let
go.
Her lips began to turn up in a tremulous smile. He bent toward her again, but he
felt a sudden tugging on the leg of his jeans.
“Me, too!” Hannah was saying. “Pick me up, too!”
Regret flowed between Luke and Kealey before he reluctantly set her back down.
Unable to completely release her, his hand lingered on hers before he turned to
young Hannah.
“Turn me in circles, too!” she cried.
Obliging, Luke spun the child as she giggled and shrieked happily.
Kealey watched, knowing the care he felt for these children was more genuine
than anything she’d ever witnessed. No wonder she loved him. He was a rare man,
one she suspected would love without reserve, one she wished she could have for
all time.
But time wasn’t on her side. The adoption process was moving forward. And when
it was complete, she would no longer be needed. It would be time for her to move
on to another life of loneliness.
Just then Luke released Hannah, sending her scampering toward the other kids.
“The pony ride was a great idea,” Mary spoke from beside her.
Miles away, Kealey started at the unexpected comment. Yet she managed a
reasonable smile. “I’m glad the kids like it.”
“Like it? If it was put to a vote, they’d elect you Santa Claus.”
The words warmed Kealey even further—until she realized she was completely
losing her grip on a lifetime of control.
But Mary didn’t allow her to wallow in her thoughts. “You’ve made Brian one
happy little boy.”
“He’s been through far too much for a child his age,” Kealey responded,
remembering the pain of forgotten, ignored birthdays.
“That’s difficult, isn’t it?” Mary asked, a deep instinctive wisdom shadowing
her eyes.
Kealey averted her gaze. “Every case is different.”
Mary took the hint gracefully. “I don’t know how you and Rachel do it. I’m
afraid I’d want to bring every unwanted child home with me.”
“I do, too. But there isn’t a house in the land big enough for all of them.”
Mary nodded. “When I think of all the couples who are praying daily for a child,
it seems hard to believe so many are thrown away by their parents.”
Kealey couldn’t reply. The pain of being a throw-away never lessened.
“I know, like these kids, there are accidents that take away the parents,” Mary
amended her words. “Still...”
Kealey finally found her voice. “Each unwanted child deserves a real home.”
“Like the one you and Luke have provided for these three,” Mary replied.
“Well, it was Luke—”
“He didn’t stand a chance of getting them without you. And don’t even try to
tell me that it was something you usually do. As you just said, it would take a
house larger than any in the land to hold them all.”
“This was a special case,” Kealey attempted to rationalize.
“Luke’s lucky to have found you,” Mary replied. “I know I’m the overprotective
older sister, but I’ve always worried that he would end up with someone who
would take advantage of the fact that he’s so generous, always playing the role
of rescuer.” Unexpectedly, calm unflappable Mary was fighting tears. “I’m really
glad you’re part of our family.” Then she hugged Kealey fiercely before moving
away.
Speechless, Kealey could only stare after her. Part of our family. The words
resounded long after Mary walked away. Did they really feel that way about her?
Desperately, Kealey blinked away the tears in her own eyes.
Luke called out to her then. Surreptitiously swiping at her eyes, she took a
deep breath and turned around. Seeing him wave her over to the long set of
tables, she approached, inwardly telling herself to get a grip. But she had a
terrible feeling that was getting damn near impossible.
“It’s about time for cake and presents,” Luke told her. “The man told me it’s a
good idea to let the pony have a little break. The kids can take some more rides
after we eat.”
“Sounds good,” Kealey replied in what she thought was a normal tone.
But Luke’s instincts were too finely honed by now. “Is something wrong?”
“No.” She considered her words, then simply told the truth. “I’m just surprised
once again by how kind your family is.”
He reached an arm around her, drawing her close for an instant. “They think
you’re pretty terrific, too.”
She attempted a watery smile, and Luke hugged her again, this time not saying
anything, just offering her support.
In short time, the adults pitched in to round up all the kids and get them
seated at the long tables. Brightly colored paper tablecloths were weighted down
with equally colorful race-car-emblazoned paper plates and napkins, along with
heavier containers filled with bouquets of mylar balloons on sticks, enough for
all the kids.
It took two of Luke’s brothers to carry in the gigantic cake. The sight of it
evoked oohs and aahs from all the kids. Brian’s eyes widened as though it were
made of gold. Even Bentley barked in approval.
Ruth and Rachel began scooping up the ice cream and filling paper cups with
grape punch. After the candles were lit, a rousing chorus of “Happy Birthday”
was sung. Expectation and hope filled Brian’s face before he drew in a huge
breath and easily blew out all ten candles to a round of applause, hoots and
whistles of approval.
Still beaming, he cut the first piece of cake. Kealey then took over the chore,
with many ready hands helping to pass around the slices.
It was nice, Kealey realized, this unasked for supply of help. Glancing around
she saw the genuine concern for her, the newest member of their family. Surely,
some, if not most of them, had already made other plans for the day. Yet,
without exception, they’d all turned out for the party.
Kealey shouldn’t have been surprised, yet she was touched to see that everyone
had brought presents for the “half-year” birthday boy. Brian squealed as he
carefully unwrapped his first gift. But then, excitement catching, he ripped
into the next one, part of a huge, seemingly endless mound.
As Kealey watched, her bottom lip tucked beneath her teeth, Jane came up and
slipped an arm around her waist. “This really was a lovely idea, dear.”
“Luke and I thought of it at the same time,” Kealey demurred.
Jane chuckled, a laugh much like her son’s. “You’re a treasure in today’s
world.”
Kealey blinked. “I am?”
“Someone who’s unwilling to take credit for wonderful ideas, plans and gestures,
I’d say so.”
Kealey couldn’t summon a reply.
But a moment later Luke strolled close by, taking a stance on her other side.
“Do you mind if I steal my bride?”
Shaking her head, Jane smiled, then stepped away.
For a moment Kealey wondered if he had sensed her distress. As immediately she
dismissed the notion. It was pure wishful thinking to imagine he was so in tune
with her feelings.
“It’s wonderful watching Brian, isn’t it?” Luke murmured, in a quiet voice that
couldn’t be overheard.
She couldn’t verbalize how wonderful she thought it was. Almost as if they’d
provided Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy, but even better than
that. So very much better.
Luke reached for her hand, holding it within the shelter of his. And for a
moment she could almost believe her earlier wishful fancying.
“Even though that pile of presents looks endless, I’d better go get ours,” Luke
whispered.
Unlike the pony and clown, they’d discussed this part of the party. While Kealey
continued to oversee the distribution of cake, Luke stole away to the garage.
Brian finally got down to the last of his presents. He was delighted by what
Jane and Timothy had chosen—a microscope.
“Luke was always fascinated with science. And since you love animals as well,
maybe you’ll find it fun, too,” Timothy explained.
Clearly pleased by the comparison, Brian smiled as he carefully set the
microscope on the table so it wouldn’t get knocked over.
Then Luke pushed their gift forward. Brian’s eyes widened to an impossible size.
“Mine?” he squeaked in awe.
Kealey and Luke both smiled.
Brian leaped up from the table, unable to reach his present fast enough.
A huge blue-and-silver bow sat atop a gleaming new bicycle. Ignoring the bow,
Brian adroitly climbed on his new prize.
When he could finally speak, it was only a single syllable. “Wow!”
Finally dragging his gaze from the bicycle, Brian sought Luke and Kealey’s
gazes. “Thanks. I mean lots.”
Luke stepped forward, his hand grasping Brian’s shoulder. “You’re welcome, son.”
And he was Luke’s son, Kealey knew suddenly, as she held back her emotions.
They were a family, one she was clinging to. And one she would give her life to
keep. But could she still hope that Luke would want her to stay? Or was this the
beginning of goodbye?



CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Autumn had finally arrived in central Texas. It was the most perfect time of the
year, in Luke’s opinion. And, if he’d had poetry in his soul rather than
science, he would have waxed on and on. Instead, he spent as much time as
possible outside amid the changing colors. There he inhaled the best of smells,
those of freshly fallen leaves on damp earth, along with the shifting aroma of
the newly scented air, one that foretold of the coming winter, but promised more
days of glorious sunshine.
Luke collected pumpkins of every possible size, along with squashes and gourds
of the most exotic persuasions. Some resembled bumpy, little gnomes while others
had glorious and earthy colors to recommend them. He wanted a big collection
because, unlike most people, Luke didn’t limit the carving of pumpkins to simply
Halloween. For him it was a hobby for the entire season.
In most ways, this was a happy time. The kids were doing well in school and
they’d found a place within his life, his family and the neighborhood.
Only one thing marred his favorite season. The waiting period before the final
adoption was coming to an end. And even though he thought he was coming to know
Kealey’s heart, she’d yet to tell him how she felt. Their passion was as fresh
and fervent as the first time, maybe even more so. Because lately he’d sensed a
sort of desperation in her touch, as though she feared letting go.
She did still speak of the arrangements they would need to make after the
adoption was final. And each time she spoke of their parting, his own heart
splintered a little more.
Glancing across the yard, he watched as she played hide-and-seek with the kids
among the trees and newly raked piles of leaves. The children, giggling loudly,
dashed from spot to spot, loving every moment of the game.
When Troy hid beside one of the taller piles, Kealey tossed a few leaves over
him, pretending not to see him. He giggled madly as she brushed away a few more
leaves; then he jumped up in glee.
Drawn closer, Luke watched the glint of the afternoon sun on her golden hair.
She’d allowed it to grow longer and it fell in gentle waves to the middle of her
back. When she turned he could see that the fall colors made her remarkable eyes
seem vibrantly green.
Breathless from running, she paused when she saw his gaze linger. “You can come
play instead of doing all the work.”
Responding to the open smile on her face, he approached. “You’re right. Working
should be avoided at all costs.” His eyebrows rose a notch. “Especially when we
can play.”
“Tell you what,” she offered, still catching her breath. “You play hide-and-seek
and I’ll rake leaves.”
He screwed his expression into one of great concentration. “I don’t think so.”
A belated light in her eyes told him she’d just surmised his intent.
Before she could flee, he reached out, plucking her from the ground, then turned
before dropping her gently into the largest pile of leaves.
“No, no!” she protested between wild bursts of laughter and gasps of injured
indignation, flailing her arms uselessly.
He responded by stuffing her blouse with mounds of leaves.
“Stop, that tickles!” she managed to say between bouts of breath-snatching
giggles. “And itches!”
“You don’t say,” he responded, goaded on by the response.
Fearlessly, she pitched handfuls of leaves at him, showering him soundly.
“Uh-oh. Now, you’ll really have to pay.”
Unable to stop laughing, she tried to scramble away, but his arms trapped her.
“Big man,” she taunted.
“Bigger than you,” he agreed mildly.
Belligerently she stuck her tongue out at him.
“Now that’s a defense if I ever saw one,” he responded.
She halfheartedly kicked her legs a bit more, her laughter fading as his gaze
became intense. Her tongue retreated, but her mouth was poised in an open,
questioning way.
Unable to resist, Luke lowered his lips to hers, tasting the now familiar
essence of Kealey mixed with the warm flavor of autumn and sunshine. It was the
best of everything. The perfect season, perfect day, perfect woman.
Her struggles ceasing, she allowed the kiss to go on and on. And Luke realized
he could have kissed her until the sun moved past twilight, past dusk... past
forever.
Returning gradually to reality, he lifted his head. Her eyes had transformed to
emerald.
Searching her face, he absently plucked a few leaves from her hair. Flung wildly
into the backdrop of the multicolored leaves, her hair was as alluring as if it
were framed by silken sheets.
Just as unexpectedly, she reached up to trace his jaw, her touch as soft as the
breath of summer. He wished the caress could go on forever. That, somehow, he
could convince her to remain with them... with him.
“My turn!” Troy demanded.
Glancing up, Luke and Kealey saw the children’s curious faces watching them.
“People kiss on TV sometimes,” Hannah informed them.
Kealey’s lips trembled in unexpected amusement.
“So they do,” Luke replied. “And so do parents. Let’s go attack those pumpkins.”
“What about the leaves?” asked ever responsible Brian.
Luke looked around at the piles, then smiled. “They’ll be here tomorrow. Come
on.”
The backyard table was covered with a collection of pumpkins and a few
intriguing-looking gourds. Luke had purchased child-safe carving instruments for
the kids.
“You sure we don’t hafta wait for Halloween?” Hannah questioned. “It’s nearly a
month away.”
“Positive,” Luke replied.
“Should we save one?” Brian asked, not having completely shed his mantle of
responsibility.
Kealey, so in tune with his feelings, gave him a small hug. “What if we carve
these now and then at Halloween we get enough for us and also take some we’ve
carved to the children’s hospital?”
Brian didn’t have to consider her suggestion for long. “Yeah. That’d be neat.”
Yes it would, Luke acknowledged, again marveling at her generosity of spirit.
Then he started helping the kids, showing them how to use the tools.
Each chose a different sort of design to carve. Luke studied his own pumpkin for
a few moments, but he already had a design in mind.
Luke couldn’t help noticing that Kealey stared at her pumpkin for an
inordinately long time.
“Something wrong?” Luke asked.
She shook her head. “Not exactly. I haven’t done this before. I watched you
showing the kids, but I’m not sure what to carve myself.”
Amazed, he could only stare at her. How had any American kid been able to reach
adulthood without carving a pumpkin? Covering the sadness he felt over her
stolen childhood, he passed her the book of designs he’d given to the children.
“I know they’re usually faces. But do they have to be?” she asked.
“I don’t see why.”
“Okay.” With deliberate precision she picked up her knife, her face screwed into
lines of concentration.
Touched by this simple, but telling admission, he had to drag his attention back
to his own task. He discarded his original design, instead thinking of a far
better one.
The time passed harmoniously, the kids getting into the fun of pumpkin carving.
With a few covert glances, Luke could see that Kealey was getting into it as
well. More than an hour later, everyone was about done.
Luke, accustomed to carving dozens of pumpkins for his nieces and nephews, had
become adept and quick at carving. It was how he’d come to view it as a seasonal
pastime, rather than a one-day event. He enjoyed the creativity, the uniqueness
of each gourd.
“Mine’s a fairy princess,” Hannah announced. She’d made a good, if crude
attempt, at a crown above the jagged eyes.
“So it is,” Kealey exclaimed. “It’s very pretty.”
“But they’re supposed to be scary,” Troy protested, showing them a more
traditional carving of a goblin.
“They can be anything you want them to be,” Luke replied. “Scary, pretty,
unique, realistic.”
“Kealey, let’s see yours!” Hannah demanded.
“I’m kind of new at this,” Kealey explained as she pivoted the pumpkin to face
the others.
They stared at it quietly for a moment.
“H like my name!” Hannah exclaimed.
“And B,” Brian added.
Troy scrunched his face up, not as proficient in reading yet as his older
brother and sister. “And a T?” he asked.
“Looks like it,” Luke confirmed. Then he glanced at Kealey. “That’s what I meant
by unique.”
Kealey looked as though she’d passed some sort of test. Again, Luke wished she
could truly relax, but then he supposed that would be like asking him to ignore
anyone, man or animal, in need. Her experience simply wouldn’t allow it.
“Nice,” he told her quietly as the kids examined each other’s pumpkins.
She shrugged, but looked pleased. Then she turned suddenly to Brian. “We almost
forgot to look at yours.”
Reluctantly, Brian turned his around. Although it was crude, it was clear he had
attempted to carve a dog.
“Why that looks just like Bentley!” Kealey exclaimed.
“It’s not that good,” Brian protested while at the same looking as though he
wanted to be convinced her words were true.
“It’s neat!” Troy told him loyally, “Yeah,” Hannah added. “Can you do one of
Miss Tansy, too?”
Brian’s smile vaulted into a grin. “I could try.”
Kealey watched them for a moment, then carefully turned to Luke. “Hey, wait a
minute. You’re supposed to be the master. So where’s your pumpkin?”
The kids also looked at him expectantly.
“You have to remember I sometimes use a different technique, just barely cutting
into the skin of the pumpkin, rather than carving true holes,” Luke explained.
“No stalling, mister,” Kealey prodded him. “You made us all show ours.”
Luke didn’t mind revealing his carving. He just wasn’t sure how Kealey would
respond. Carefully he turned it around so they could all see.
And was greeted with dead silence.
Then Hannah grew excited, her voice high and light. “It’s Kealey!”
“Yeah,” the boys agreed a beat later, still studying the unusual design.
But it was Kealey’s reaction he was waiting for.
She blinked, a growing sense of wonder suffusing her features. “Luke?” she
questioned, in a quiet, faraway voice.
“I’m no artist, but, yeah, I tried to make it of you.”
She bit down hard on her bottom lip, rapidly blinking her eyes.
As he’d said, Luke had lightly carved his portrait onto the outer shell, using
the dark, outer skin as shadow and the inner skin as highlight. And in the light
and shadow, he’d drawn a fair depiction of Kealey’s face. Her long flowing hair
was flung back and her eyes looked as though they were focused on something
distant.
He’d also carved a good replica of her thin, perfect nose, her strong chin. But
he’d given in to one impulse. She looked entirely delicate, a nearly whimsical
fey creature.
“Wow,” Brian finally said, breaking the silence.
“It looks pretty, just like you, Kealey,” Hannah added.
Kealey, however, continued to stare at it until finally lifting her gaze to
Luke. Then her voice was so quiet he had to lean closer to hear the brief words.
“Thank you.”
Only two small words, but from them Luke took hope. Maybe, if he was very, very
lucky, hope would be much of what he needed.
* * *
October was speeding by with undaunting swiftness. Throughout the previous
months Luke and Kealey had passed the inspection visits by Children’s Services
with flying colors. In fact, the caseworker had remarked on more than one
occasion that she’d rarely seen such a loving home, nor a couple so ideally
suited.
When a second caseworker for the adoption process was assigned, he seemed
surprised by the fact that Luke’s name was the only one on the adoption papers.
But it wasn’t part of the process for him to question that oddity, only to
assure that the home was satisfactory.
He understood that waiting to add Kealey’s name to the adoption papers was
probably a well-considered decision in light of the brevity of their marriage.
Not that he felt that was a deterrent. In his estimation, they had provided an
ideal home.
During that last adoption interview, Kealey had squirmed in her chair,
desperately wishing she didn’t have to be involved in the process. It was
difficult enough to know the time was ticking away. Trying to keep ignorant of
the stage the adoption was in was her only protection. Logically, she knew it
wouldn’t prolong her own time with Luke and the children she’d grown to love.
These days, though, she was losing her grip on logic. It no longer seemed the
proper barometer with which to gauge her life.
She’d also taken to using more and more of her annual leave, requesting a few
hours each afternoon so she could be home to greet the children. After the
adoption, she wouldn’t need vacation time. She would work to fill the empty
hours.
Today, however, she refused to think beyond the moment. She was using Luke’s
mother’s recipe for oatmeal cookies. Their fragrant aroma wafted through the
house and even Wayne had escaped from the clinic long enough to filch a few.
Halloween was only a week away and she planned to get a head start on learning
how to make the best possible treats. She was nearly as excited as the kids
about the upcoming holiday.
Hearing the back door open, she turned with a smile. But seeing Hannah’s
stricken, tear-streaked face, Kealey dropped the pan of cookies and rushed to
her side. Brian held his sister’s hand, though he looked up at Kealey
helplessly.
Scooping up the little girl, Kealey smoothed the hair back from Hannah’s face,
then patted her back in comforting circles. “Shush,” she told her gently as she
made her way to the comfy chair in the corner of the kitchen. “It can’t be that
bad.”
Hannah gulped and cried some more.
Kealey looked at Brian in question but he shrugged. “I dunno. Some kids were
saying something to her and then she started crying and ran home. I caught up
with her, but she just cried more.”
“You did the right thing, Brian, making sure she got home safely.” Kealey rocked
young Hannah back and forth, waiting until the child’s sobs eased. “You can tell
me what it is, sweetie.”
For a while Hannah continued to cry. Then she lifted her head from Kealey’s
shoulders and gulped, her words barely legible between her sobs. “They said we
didn’t belong to anybody.”
Kealey’s reaction was fierce and quick. “Of course you do. You belong to us. To
Luke...and me.”
“Sure, Hannah,” Brian added helpfully, his eyes lighting. “There’s ‘adopted’
papers on Luke’s desk.”
Hannah was shaking her head. “But the kids said—”
“I’ll show you the papers, okay?” Brian asked, trying to stop Hannah’s tears.
“See,” Kealey responded, managing to keep her own voice bright, despite the
agony of Brian’s words. “Now, doesn’t that prove you belong to us?”
“I guess so.” Hannah looked up at her, huge blue eyes swimming in tears. “Do you
really want to keep us forever?”
More than this child would ever know, Kealey thought, biting down on her lip so
hard she could taste blood. Using every scrap of willpower in her possession,
she continued to make her voice light, convincing. “Of course. We love you.”
Hannah stayed with Kealey in the chair, needing to be near someone she trusted.
Kealey stroked her soft, blond hair.
Kealey wasn’t certain how much time had passed when finally Hannah sighed
soulfully and sat upright. “I wish you’d be part of my forever family.”
Unable to speak, she again smoothed the child’s hair, fervently hoping that
Hannah would always remember how much she loved her.
Brian pushed open the kitchen door, his hands filled with papers. “See!” he
exclaimed triumphantly. “It’s papers with our names on it that say we’re going
to belong to Luke.”
Kealey froze, then remembered to try to act naturally in front of the children.
But closing her eyes, she knew her days here were nearly finished.
The evidence lay in front of her in unforgiving black and white. A rough draft
of the final adoption decree, stamped with Luke’s attorney’s seal.
“Can we have a cookie?” Brian was asking.
Kealey motioned with her head. “Of course. They’re for you. And Troy should be
home from kindergarten soon.”
“Can we watch TV?” Brian asked. “We won’t get crumbs on the floor.”
She met his serious young gaze and nodded. “That’s just fine.”
Leaving their backpacks on the table, they collected cookies and glasses of
milk, carrying them into the living room. As soon as they were gone, Kealey
swallowed, inching her way over to the forgotten papers.
She stared at the words until they grew blurry from the tears streaming down her
face. She didn’t even realize she was sobbing, the tearing in her heart was so
great. Nor did she notice the swinging door to the kitchen push open, then close
silently. All she knew was that again she had to say goodbye. Only this time,
she wasn’t sure she would ever recover.
* * *
Brian did his chores, absently petting the animals as he filled food and water
dishes, then swept out the kennels. Only today he didn’t prod his younger
brother and sister to either help him or hurry through their own duties. Because
his mind was too full.
Full with the memory of Kealey’s face as she sobbed in the kitchen, holding the
papers he’d brought in to show Hannah, papers he had failed to return to Luke’s
desk.
And Brian wondered, if somehow, it was his fault that she was crying. Heart
heavy, he was late in completing his chores, silent as he put away tools and
bags of food.
Luke wandered back into the rear of the kennels, wiping his hands. “Hey, Brian.
You’re out here kind of late.”
Brian looked up at the man who had become his hero, and his lower lip began to
wobble.
Luke studied him for a moment, then approached quickly. “What is it, Brian?”
Afraid to meet Luke’s eyes, he looked down at the new tennis shoes Kealey had
bought for him. He remembered her warm hug, the joy in her eyes. And he felt a
tear escape.
Luke knelt down. “You can tell me, son, whatever it is. Remember what I told you
when you first came here. Nothing you can do will ever keep this from being your
home.”
Brian chewed his lower lip, then swiped at the tears that wouldn’t stop. “I
think I made Kealey cry.”
Puzzled, Luke pulled back, studying the boy. “Why do you think that?”
“I didn’t mean to,” Brian pleaded.
“Of course you didn’t,” Luke agreed. “Just tell me what happened.”
Brian recounted what had happened to Hannah, how they’d come home, then Kealey’s
help.
“I don’t understand, Brian. None of your part in that should have made Kealey
cry. Maybe she was crying because she felt bad for Hannah.”
Slowly Brian shook his head. “It wasn’t then. It was after.” His words stumbled.
“After I brought in the papers.”
Even more confused, Luke patted the little boy’s back, coaxing out the words.
“What papers?”
Brian looked guilty, ashamed. “I took them from your desk.”
“Well, I’d rather you’d tell me first if you want something from my office, but
it’s not a federal offense. Now, what papers did you take?”
“The ones with our names on them,” Brian mumbled. “I saw them when I was
emptying the trash. I thought it would make Hannah feel better to see that you
want to keep us and that we do belong. When she saw them, she stopped crying,
but then later...”
“Yes?” Luke prompted.
“I went back to the kitchen to get my backpack and Kealey was crying. Hard.”
Brian’s eyes teared up again. “Like we did when our mom died.”
Luke nodded, pulling Brian close for a quick hug, then wiping away his tears.
“First, I’m sorry you had to see Kealey crying like that. But more important,
you have to know that you didn’t cause her to cry.”
Brian looked up at him with an expression that said he wanted to believe Luke’s
words but wasn’t certain he could. “How do you know?”
Luke’s heart quickened, despite feeling bad for Brian’s pain. “Because it’s a
grown-up thing. I’d like to be able to explain it, but I think you’re a little
too young to understand. But, if I promise that you didn’t make Kealey cry, will
you believe me?”
Luke knew Brian had placed all the trust he possessed in him. And the boy was
probably just as certain that Luke wouldn’t fail him now. “If you say so.”
“I say so. Now. Why don’t you head into the kitchen and help set the table.”
“Aren’t you coming?” Brian asked, still anxious.
“In a minute. I have to make a phone call. Now, can you do me a huge favor?”
Brian nodded fervently.
“Put a big smile on your face. I think Hannah and Kealey really need that right
now. Girls aren’t quite as tough as us guys.”
Again Brian nodded.
As he left, Luke headed into his office. Hope gathered—a rush so powerful it
nearly flattened him. He was about to take the biggest gamble of his life and he
prayed that he’d read the signs correctly.



CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The weather was perfect. As though specifically ordered for the best Halloween
ever, the temperature was mild, the breeze almost nonexistent. The kids could
barely contain themselves as they collected backpacks and lunches.
Luke had booked his last appointment for just before eleven, making sure his
afternoon was clear. And he’d already instructed all three children that their
chores were taken care of for the day, because Wayne had volunteered to do them.
Luke intended to make sure his assistant’s paycheck contained a handsome bonus.
Wayne would protest, but some things were worth more than gold.
Kealey had taken off the day and spent the morning making caramel apples,
popcorn balls, marsh-mallow-crispie treats, and cookies. The kitchen was
beginning to resemble Keebler Elf Land. And she’d bought enough candy to supply
the entire county.
“The kids won’t be home for a while, will they?” Luke asked, entering the
kitchen.
Kealey, bent over the oven, checking another batch of cookies, nodded. “About
four more hours.”
Luke glanced around at the counters. “Kealey, there are only three of them.
You’ve made enough treats to feed a brigade.”
She frowned. “I wasn’t sure what they’d like.”
Luke’s own anxiety eased a bit. “You know we’re acting ridiculous? It’s not
their first Halloween.”
“But it’s ours with them,” she murmured, meeting his gaze, doing her best to
repress her longing.
“Those imps get under your skin, don’t they?” Luke questioned idly, still
studying her.
Her busy hands paused and she looked out the huge bay window, but no amount of
looking or searching would give her the answers she sought, certainly not the
ones she hoped for.
“You’re about done here, aren’t you?”
She glanced around. “I guess so, except for the cleanup.”
“That can wait.”
Puzzled, Kealey drew her eyebrows together. “For what?”
“I have something planned for us this afternoon.” He glanced at his watch. “In
fact, we’re due there in about thirty minutes. Can you be ready?”
She angled her head. “Not to be repetitious, but for what?”
His smile was enigmatic, almost sly. “You’ll see.”
Kealey sighed. “I don’t want to leave this mess—”
He placed two fingers gently over her lips. “Please?”
She opened her mouth to protest.
He leaned closer. “Please?”
What was it about this man that made every bit of her insides turn wobbly? Of
its own accord, her head nodded in agreement.
His smile widened. “You won’t regret it.”
It wouldn’t be regret she felt. Only an endless, unforgiving longing.
About twenty minutes later they were in his car, headed into town. She still
didn’t know where they were going, but to herself she acknowledged she would go
anywhere with him.
When he turned into the lot of a small vintage clothing store, though, she was
completely baffled. “We’re going shopping?”
His smile remained mysterious. “How did you get to your age without knowing a
surprise means not telling what it is?”
Remembrance of their previous discussion about surprises had her wanting to
chuckle, but she tried to keep a straight face. “Point taken.”
Once inside the store, Kealey realized it was a delight, from the tasteful
display of vintage accessories to a breathtaking ballgown she guessed must be
from the 1930s or 40s.
A young, spirited woman greeted them from behind the antique display case, her
pretty face breaking into a grin. “Well, hello, Luke!” Then she turned to
Kealey. “And you must be Mrs. Luke! I’m Britney!”
Swallowing the rush of emotions being identified as Luke’s wife caused, she
smiled. “Kealey, please.”
“Great to meet you. Luke’s told me all about you, of course.”
“Of course?” Kealey echoed, turning to peer at Luke who’d managed to put on the
most innocent expression she’d ever seen.
“Oh, Luke’s like family. His brother and my brother played college football
together. Our families shared the same section forever. Of course I was just a
little kid then.”
Of course. Kealey shook back a taste of envy.
“Which is why Britney helped arrange my surprise,” Luke finally explained. “She
failed to mention that her brother went on to the NFL and made a not so small
fortune. And he helped her set up this business.”
“This is your store?” Kealey asked, impressed regardless of where the backing
was obtained. The store was lovely, full of charm, obviously set up and
decorated by a very talented person.
Britney bobbed her head up and down, her grin beaming. “I’ve always loved old
things—movies, clothes, furniture. I have a few antiques, but I didn’t really
want a store big enough for a lot of pieces. And the clothes and accessories are
my first love.”
“Do you specialize in any particular period?” Kealey asked, fascinated in spite
of herself.
“Absolutely. Primarily the 30s and 40s. They epitomize glamour and
sophistication to me. The 50s brings in fun, too. You wouldn’t believe the
poodle skirt I just found.”
Luke cleared his throat. “And she’s found a little something for us, too.”
“Us?” Kealey asked in surprised confusion.
“Today’s Halloween, right?” he asked.
“Yes,” she answered cautiously.
“Our first with the kids?”
“Uh-huh,” she responded with equal care.
“So I thought it would be a great idea for us to have costumes, too.”
Kealey stared at him, completely stupefied.
Britney, however, wasn’t at all hampered by caution. “Come on back to the
dressing rooms. Wait’ll you see what Luke came up with.”
Completely undone, Kealey allowed Luke to tug her back to the dressing area.
“I got to thinking,” he was telling her. “About who we could be. I considered
the usual, Anthony and Cleopatra, Minnie and Mickey Mouse, that kind of stuff.
But then, I thought our costumes ought to suit us.”
Britney reached for a hanger, holding up a vintage lady’s tennis outfit, circa
1952. In her other hand, she held up a man’s ensemble, a light-colored suit with
a dark shirt and a light tie, also circa 1952, and frankly resembling something
a gangster would wear.
Now completely baffled, Kealey turned to Luke in silent query.
His smile was gentle. “Pat and Mike,” he explained. “I thought I could be
Spencer Tracy and you could be Kate Hepburn.” He took her hand. “That is, if
you’ll let me call you Kate.”
Amazed and touched, she could only nod.
Britney replaced the clothes on the rack, then reached for a pair of lady’s
tennis shoes and a racket. “Now finding these from the same time period was
quite a feat, but my middle name’s ‘never say die.’”
Kealey blinked away the threat of tears, managing to smile. “That must make
filling out forms quite a lot of trouble.”
Britney grinned. “I knew you’d be cool. Anyone Luke married would have to be. So
do you like the outfits?”
“They’re perfect,” Kealey managed to reply. Absolutely perfect.
“I had Luke’s measurements so I know his suit will fit.” She eyed Kealey
critically. “And Luke was right. You’re built just like Katherine Hepburn. Yours
should fit, too.”
Britney turned to wrap up the clothes and Kealey lowered her voice. “You told
her I was built like Katherine Hepburn?”
This time his grin was strictly male. “Why do you suppose I picked Pat and Mike
costumes? That way I get to see those great legs of yours.”
An unaccustomed flush warmed her cheeks as she nudged him. “As I recall, she
played golf in that movie, too.”
“Where would the fun in that be?” he asked in mock horror. “A long skirt or
trousers?”
Despite herself, she smiled. If she’d ever imagined being part of a Halloween
celebration, she couldn’t have thought of more perfect costumes if she’d worked
on it for months. Yet he had, this man who rescued strays, protected the weak
and nurtured everyone.
Turning away, she pretended to study the front of the store. But it didn’t stop
the tears she continued to fight, ones that reminded her that this was what she
would miss most. And that goodbye was looming.
* * *
Kealey fussed with Hannah’s wings while Luke adjusted the tail on Troy’s
dinosaur costume.
“What are you guys supposed to be?” Brian asked for the third time, studying
Luke and Kealey’s unconventional costumes.
“We told you, characters from the movie we watched one night, a long time ago.”
Kealey glanced up, the memory of the first real night of their marriage flowing
between them.
Even though he’d had an inkling of his feelings at that time, Luke could never
have guessed how very precious she would become to him.
Kealey glanced back down, making sure Hannah’s pink-and-silver fairy costume was
perfect. Then she knelt beside Brian. She adjusted the eye patch of his pirate’s
outfit, making sure it didn’t impair his vision, then retied the bright sash at
his waist. He squirmed a tiny bit, but it was clear he relished her attention.
Since both Kealey and Luke wanted to go with the kids and watch them trick or
treat, Wayne had volunteered to hand out candy. Porch duty, he called it. And
since his apartment was on the top floor of his building, few kids made their
way to it. Even so, he’d left out a bowl of candy that morning.
Before they left, Luke made certain all the kennels and gates were securely
locked and that the house pets were inside.
“Don’t worry,” Wayne told him, as they locked the final gate. “No one will get
past me.”
Luke was certain any punks who dared try would be extremely sorry they had.
The kids dashed to the door of the first house, their high clear voices piping
out the traditional greeting.
“They’re having so much fun!” Kealey exclaimed happily, watching them with
unconcealed joy.
Luke turned so that he was facing her. “And how about you?”
With a self-conscious motion, she smoothed the short skirt of her costume. “I’ve
gotten a few looks from some of the other parents.”
“Of course. The men in this town aren’t blind, Kate.”
She batted at him playfully with the decades-old tennis racket. “You’re entirely
too prejudiced, Spencer, and the looks I was referring to are from the women.”
“Right on both counts. I’m definitely prejudiced and of course the other women
are jealous.”
Exasperated, she spluttered. “That’s not what I meant!”
His smile was again tender. “I know, Kate. I know.”
She swallowed visibly, casting her eyes downward. Before he could comfort her,
the kids pounded down the sidewalk, faces flushed with excitement. “We got
chocolate bars!”
“Yea!” Kealey responded.
“We’ll have lots to share,” Brian added.
Kealey gave him a quick hug. “This is your bounty.”
Then they were off, canvasing the neighborhood, all people whom Luke knew by
name, people he could trust. The children’s bags were filling with a multitude
of candy. Passersby admired Luke and Kealey’s costumes, some genuinely delighted
when they learned the origin.
“I think I’ve spoken to more people tonight than I have since I moved here,”
Kealey told him in wonder. “Except for work and your family, of course.”
“They’re a pretty friendly lot,” Luke replied. “And there’s still enough small
town left in us to know our neighbors and talk to strangers on the sidewalk when
we pass.”
Kealey’s gaze was on the children, who had just rung another doorbell. “I think
that’s wonderful. I don’t imagine there are too many places like Greenville
left. Rural towns are struggling to stay alive, some disappearing altogether.
You’re lucky to have this place.”
“It’s your place, too,” he reminded her quietly.
Was it the moonlight or were her now dark eyes overly bright? “So it is.”
They were quieter as they finished the rounds with the children. Small footsteps
finally began to drag as the moon rose even higher in the sky.
They didn’t protest too heartily when Luke suggested they head for home. As
little Troy wound down even more, Luke lifted him on his shoulders for the final
two blocks.
Wayne, still on porch duty, stood up to stretch mightily as they approached.
“How’d it go?” Luke asked.
“Just fine. Lots of takers.” Then Wayne directed his words to Kealey. “I think
you’ve got enough candy left for next Halloween.”
Next Halloween. Right now they didn’t even know if they had next month. Perhaps
not even next week. That depended on the court date.
Still, Kealey’s smile was brave, genuine. “It was awfully kind of you to hand
out the candy tonight.”
“Oh, I get a kick out of it, too. And I like knowing the animals are all safe.”
“Is Bentley still inside?” Brian asked anxiously.
“You betcha. Just waiting for you,” Wayne replied. He took one step down the
stairs. “I’ll say good-night now.”
“Thanks, Wayne. Oh, and don’t show up early tomorrow morning,” Luke warned him.
Wayne nodded as he moved out into the darkness.
“He’ll be here early,” Kealey commented.
“No doubt about it,” Luke replied, carrying Troy inside.
All three children were yawning.
“Time for bed,” Kealey told them.
Each clenched a bag full of candy. “But we wanna see what we got.”
Kealey met Luke’s gaze. When he nodded she relented. “Okay, but as soon as you
sort through the candy, it’s off to bed.”
They scooted into the living room, each pouring out their bags of loot. They
examined and compared, trading a few pieces, setting others aside.
“Do most children behave like this on Halloween night?” Kealey asked in a
wondering tone. “If they eat very much of that, they’ll never get to sleep.”
“I don’t know. We used to stuff ourselves silly, but I don’t think it ever kept
us up all night. What about you? Did you ever stay up all night on Halloween?”
She shook her head, an unconsciously sad motion. “I’m afraid not.” Then she
glanced down at her tennis outfit. “In fact this is my first Halloween costume,
my first time going trick or treating.”
“Didn’t your mother ever take you?” he asked, still aching for all she’d missed.
“I was really young when she was...still around.” Her gaze rested on the
children, her love for them as evident as the pain she still carried with her.
Luke again felt the weight of the decision he’d made, one he’d yet to tell her.
And he guessed it wouldn’t be the children who would fail to sleep that night.
Within a short time, he was going to risk their entire future.
If he was wrong, Kealey would walk away. In fact, it would push her away. And he
suspected the wondering would stand between him and a decent night’s sleep until
the moment he found out what she would do.



CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The following days passed more quickly than anticipated, one pushing into the
next until the time was gone.
Still, Kealey wasn’t ready. Staring at Luke in disbelief, she wondered why he
wanted to inflict so much additional pain. “I don’t understand why I have to go
with you to the attorney’s office.”
“I wouldn’t ask you if it wasn’t necessary,” he replied quietly, his face drawn.
She wanted to cry out in anguish. It was all slipping away, she realized, the
depth of her pain a near physical thing.
Luke was eager to establish his rights with the children, to become their legal
father. And when that happened, she would be redundant, a sad social worker who
had sacrificed her heart in the foolish hope that Luke would come to love her,
to ask her to stay. In that moment, she felt exactly as Hannah had. She
desperately wanted to be part of this forever family.
But, unlike young Hannah, Luke didn’t have a place for her in his life. After
all, she forced herself to remember, she was the one who’d suggested their
arrangement and insisted it be temporary, certain she could walk away once the
children were safely and legally in Luke’s care.
But she hadn’t counted on falling in love with him.
Aware he was waiting for an answer, Kealey reluctantly lifted her chin. “Of
course I’ll go.” She swallowed, wishing the past months hadn’t caused her to
feel like a weepy melodrama queen, ready to burst into tears at a moment’s
trouble. She hadn’t expected such a reversal of her behavior. But then she’d
never expected someone like Luke.
Upstairs, she opened the closet door slowly, selecting one of her conservative
business suits, ignoring the brightly colored clothes she’d added to her
wardrobe in the past few months.
Once dressed, she opened her jewelry box, her hand pausing suddenly. The
elaborately carved, oriental box had been a present from Luke. Along with just
about everything inside. She’d owned only a watch and a few pairs of earrings
when they’d met. Now the box was filled with necklaces, bracelets and
earrings—none she suspected were terribly valuable, but still pretty. Luke had
continued to give her tokens she would have to remember him by.
It was different from her assortment of homes as a child, she now understood.
Luke had made a genuine effort. She was the one who’d come up short. It wouldn’t
do to appear ungrateful. Briefly closing her eyes, she reached for the gold
necklace he’d given her and fastened it around her neck. Then she chose a pair
of earrings.
Gently rubbing the gold ring that still circled her finger, she considered
removing it. But she couldn’t make herself pull the ring from her finger. It
could stay on her hand until she moved from the house. Belatedly, it occurred to
her that if she didn’t run away from Greenville and let Luke know how devastated
she was, she might be able to visit the children occasionally, to let them know
she still cared, would always care.
Determination alone completed her preparations. She took a final look in the
mirror, silently bidding this Kealey goodbye. Once downstairs, she poked her
head into the living room, and saw that Luke was standing by the front window,
staring out into the street.
Feeling like a master thespian, she forced her voice into a normal tone. “I’m
ready. I hope I didn’t take too long.”
He turned to her slowly, his face even more drawn. Perhaps it was difficult for
him to say the words. He wasn’t by nature an unkind person. It might bother him
to have to tell her it was over, that it was time for her to leave.
Marshaling the last of her strength, she vowed he wouldn’t have to. As soon as
they returned from the attorney’s office, she would matter-of-factly discuss the
end of their arrangement. She’d been laying the groundwork since day one. Now,
it was time to finish what she’d begun.
Stepping toward her, his face didn’t lighten. If anything, he appeared even more
drawn. “No, you didn’t take too long.”
Nor would she linger long, Kealey determined. From past experience she knew she
could run quickly, disappear as though she’d never been. Then she could allow a
discreet time to pass before she asked to visit the children.
Their ride to the attorney’s office on Main Street was quiet. Kealey stole a
glance at Luke’s face, but he seemed lost in his own thoughts.
They parked not far from the small Italian restaurant where they’d first danced
together. Kealey felt her lips beginning to tremble and bit down fiercely,
welcoming the distracting pain.
Luke’s attorney, Allen Sims, was both personable and intelligent. He was equally
well prepared. His immaculate desk was dominated by a solitary folder.
The children’s adoption folder, Kealey knew. Packed with reports from Social
Services, and the adoption caseworkers. She’d seen ones like it dozens of times.
But never had it been so personal.
Mr. Sims opened the folder. “Everything’s in order. Glowing reports along with
the necessary paperwork.” He glanced up, his gaze resting on them both. “All
that remains, other than the formal court appearance, are the signatures.”
Numbly Kealey heard and processed his words.
In the same state, she watched as Luke accepted a pen and began signing his
name. Signing their end.
She should be rejoicing. Three wonderful children were about to legally obtain
the best father they could ever hope for. And she wouldn’t have had it any other
way.
Yes, she reminded herself, the children’s welfare was foremost. Yet Kealey
couldn’t still the small voice that wondered why she’d never been allowed any
happiness. She could never retrieve her stolen childhood, but ridiculously she’d
hoped...
She lifted her gaze to see Luke studying her. Once he had her attention, he
extended his hand, the one holding a pen.
Hurt and puzzled, she glanced back at him in question.
“I think you should read the papers, as well,” Mr. Sims told her quietly. “Pay
careful attention to the signature lines.”
Still confused, she glanced down at the papers, neatly placed on the desk. There
were two signature lines. One for Luke. One for her.
“But I don’t understand,” she responded, looking from Luke to the attorney.
“I asked him to add your name to the adoption papers,” Luke replied.
“It was easy enough to do since you’d been involved in all the court and
children’s services inspections and interviews,” Mr. Sims told her. “I consulted
with them. They had no objection whatsoever.”
Luke reached out, taking her hand. “The question is, do you?”
“Do I?” she whispered, completely undone.
“Yes. Do you object? Are you ready to walk away or do you want to stay? To be my
wife, a mother to the children?” Hope filled his blue eyes, need darkened them.
Kealey didn’t know the tears had begun until they were wetting her cheeks,
blurring her eyes, salting her lips. In the distance, she heard Allen Sims push
back his chair, the hollow echo of his steps as he walked across the wooden
floor, then the sound of the door quietly closing behind him.
This time she couldn’t stop either the tears or the trembling of her lips. “Do
you really mean it?” she whispered, nearly afraid to say the words aloud.
Luke pushed back his own chair, drawing her up with him as he rose. “Oh, Kealey,
don’t you know? Can’t you see what you mean to me? To all of us?”
Emotion clogged her throat, singed her reserve. “I feel as though I’m
dreaming...hearing what I want to hear.”
His hands tightened around her arms. “But I need to know, Kealey. I need to know
how you feel. All you’ve talked about is leaving.”
She opened her mouth, but her past clenched around her like a tight, unforgiving
fist. Inside she was still the unlovable little girl that nobody wanted. A
throwaway child—perhaps a throwaway bride.
Luke pulled her closer, so close she could feel the brash of his breath on her
cheek. “Because I love you, Kealey. But I need to know that you feel the same
way about me. Our marriage has to be about more than just the children.”
Her heart stuttered. Feeling her breath leave as his soul touched hers, she
lifted her head, moving back so she could meet his eyes. Tears slid down her
cheeks as she looked at him in wonder. “You love me?”
Tenderness, coupled with strength, filled his eyes. “With everything that’s in
me.” Gently he stroked the hair that fell across her cheek, tucking it behind
one ear. “I know you, Kealey Fitzpatrick Duncan. I know about all your scars,
all you’ve missed, all you’ve wanted, all you’ve never thought you’d have.” He
swallowed, his voice hoarse, gritty. “And I love you even more for it. And, if
you’ll stay, I promise I’ll do my best to make it up to you, to give you what
you want.”
Her hand lifted, her trembling fingers caressing his jaw ever so softly. When
she finally spoke, her voice was raw, naked. “You’ve just given it to me, all I
want, all I need—your heart.”
She lifted her lips to his, her tears wetting their faces, cementing their
commitment. Shadows lengthened around the office, silhouetting chairs, desks and
file cabinets.
Allen Sims, both discreet and understanding, didn’t interrupt. Only when they
finally opened the door, did he proceed with the completion of the adoption
papers.
And in the growing twilight, their bond was set. Fragile connections...a wounded
spirit...and a man of honor. With a family to build and hold.
* * *
Judge Allred studied the papers before him. Despite his narrow, forbidding
features, it looked as though there was a touch more kindness in his eyes this
time. Finally, he looked at them above the rim of his half glasses. “So, Mr.
Duncan and Miss Fitzpatrick, I see you’re back. Excuse me, that’s Mrs. Duncan.”
Kealey glanced at Luke, then at the judge, her expression tremulous. This court
appearance wasn’t a mere formality. The adoption wasn’t final—yet.
The judge continued to study them. “Let me say, welcome back to family court.”
“Thank you, Your Honor,” Luke and Kealey chorused together rather unevenly.
The judge glanced at the papers again, this time removing his glasses to study
the three Baker children. Finally his gaze rested again on Luke and Kealey.
“It looks as though congratulations are in order, Mr. and Mrs. Duncan. Despite
tremendous, and might I add in my previous opinion, impossible odds, you have
succeeded in my requirement of establishing a home that, according to Children’s
Service, is textbook perfect.”
Kealey felt her heart thundering against her chest as she expected the judge to
add a however. One that said somehow they hadn’t done enough, that the children
weren’t to be theirs.
“However...” Judge Allred began.
Kealey’s hearing dimmed, a dizzy feeling taking hold of her.
“...in this case,” the judge continued, “it seems you’ve gone beyond textbook.
I’m happy to say that you have met and exceeded all the requirements as ordered
by the state of Texas.” His words continued, the legalese spelling out that
Brian, Hannah and Troy now belonged to them.
Judge Allred paused for a moment, again studying the papers. “And in accordance
with the petition filed by counsel, their names are to be changed as follows,
Brian Baker Duncan, Hannah Baker Duncan and Troy Baker Duncan.” It had been
Luke’s idea to retain Baker as part of their names, to pay homage to the parents
who had borne and loved them.
The children each stood as their names were called, disbelief converting to
wonder, then leaping to joy as the judge ended the proceedings by wishing them
all good luck.
Allen Sims shook each of their hands and somehow they managed to stumble out of
the hearing room, then the courthouse, finally standing in the radiant sunlight
of the tranquil late-autumn afternoon.
“This always has been my favorite season,” Luke told them, the shock of having
everything go exactly as they’d hoped for just now settling in.
Brian looked at him, his face the only sober one in the group. “Is it for real,
Luke? Forever?”
Luke knelt, embracing this child who had carved such a deep place in his heart.
“Forever, Brian.”
The boy’s smile eclipsed the brilliance of the afternoon sun. Then suddenly all
of the kids were jumping around them in a circle, shrieking with happiness.
Luke’s gaze found Kealey’s. “Forever,” he promised.
The chink of security fell into place for the first time in her life. Her search
for self, for family, for love. Now it was all hers. With the man she loved,
with the children of her heart. Reaching for Luke’s hand, she mouthed the
solitary and glorious word. “Forever.”



EPILOGUE

The aged, weathered gazebo remained the architectural centerpiece of Luke’s
yard. Sunlight eased over the ancient structure, then sidled over the equally
old rosebushes, coaxing deep waves of fragrance from the red buds.
Not much about the yard, or the preparations, had changed from the previous
year. Except that the ceremony, the renewal of their wedding vows, was being
held on Kealey’s birthday, a month earlier than their anniversary. It was the
best way he could think of, Luke had explained, to celebrate her birthday. And
from now on, he promised, her birthday was going to be unforgettable. To make up
for all the forgotten ones.
Kealey touched the pearl teardrop earrings Luke had given her the year before
then lowered her fingers to the string of pearls Jane had again loaned her.
Almost everything was exactly the same. Almost.
Jane smoothed the veil, lifting it to trail over the back of the satin dress.
“It looks wonderful.”
“Really?” Kealey questioned.
“Yes. And you look beautiful in it.” Then Jane’s eyes began to tear up. “Thank
you.”
“For what?”
“For being the only daughter of mine who wanted to wear my wedding gown.”
Her daughter. Sometimes, it still didn’t seem real. But each day, in every way
Luke was proving that it was, and always would be.
Kealey was grateful not only for his love, but for his incredible family who had
taken her in as then-own. “Now stop that. You’ll have me crying next.”
Jane reached out to hug her, despite the words. “You’re too beautiful for
tears.”
“Thank you, Jane.”
“It’s my honor that you’re wearing the dress.”
“Not just for that. But for Luke. For raising such an incredible son...for
accepting me, astounding warts and all.”
Jane smoothed the lace of the veil. “Not warts, my dear. Growing pains. Your
heart was still learning how to grow and to accept. Now, before we both get all
weepy, I think we’d better wipe the thundercloud off my ‘incredible’ son’s face.
I’m afraid he thinks I’ve kidnapped you. He’ll be sending out the Mounties any
minute now.”
“Shouldn’t that be the Texas Rangers?” Kealey replied, her tender smile finally
eclipsing her tears.
Once again, paper lanterns fluttered in the gentle breeze; the giant magnolia
tree towered over the arched trellis that bloomed with bougainvillea and sweet
strands of honeysuckle. Wicker furniture, looking as though it had traveled
through time, was scattered near the weathered fences.
Luke was once again flanked by his brother, Peter, along with Troy and Brian.
This time, however, all his sisters, along with Hannah, were bridesmaids. Kealey
had grown too close to them to choose.
Timothy extended his arm, and once again they took a walk up the bridal path.
This time, however, there were no nerves, only joy. And when Timothy handed her
to Luke, she felt as though she’d come home. Their eyes met, not disconnecting
as he moved their clasped hands, holding them over her stomach. There wasn’t
even a tiny bulge yet. And they were the only ones who knew this joyous, new
secret.
It was still many months away, but they would have a new brother or sister for
Brian, Hannah and Troy. Kealey had struggled with the painful decision to give
up her work to become a full-time mother, still feeling the need to reach out to
and help as many children as she could.
But she and Luke had found an alternative. They were opening their home soon to
foster children. Brian, Hannah and Troy were now confident in their
relationship, knowing Luke and Kealey to be their parents in every way. Their
own good natures, combined with Luke and Kealey’s guidance, which had taught
them to help others, made them secure. Secure enough that they welcomed the idea
of helping other children. And Luke, as well as Kealey, had enough love to share
with many children.
The minister repeated the words that had first bound them, that now reaffirmed
their love. Kealey had barely heard them the first time. Now they were imprinted
forever in her mind, along with the joy of this day, this man and the new life
he’d given her.
The minister’s words completed, Luke and Kealey turned to face their family and
friends.
At that instant, instead of the triumphant wedding march, the organist broke
into loud strains of “Happy Birthday.” And all the guests burst into thunderous,
exuberant choruses of the song.
Not knowing Luke had planned the song, Kealey stared at them in shock. Then,
throwing her head back, she erupted into joyous, spontaneous laughter. Laughter
that only a year earlier had been restrained, almost nonexistent.
But this was her family, she realized with mounting elation. Her new life, her
new love, her fulfilled hope.
Balloons drifted into the air, emblazoned with the words Happy Birthday. And
Luke’s brothers parted to reveal the wedding cake—one whose top tier was
decorated with a smiling couple holding a huge banner, also spelling out Happy
Birthday.
Then everyone was laughing. Even the dogs were barking in accompaniment.
As the noise accelerated, Luke reached into his pocket, withdrawing a worn, but
elegant golden locket. Flipping it open, he revealed pictures of the children on
one side, he and Kealey on the other. He reached to fasten it around her neck.
“Happy birthday, darling.”
“But this must be a family heirloom,” she protested.
“Smart and beautiful,” he replied with a tender smile.
“But you shouldn’t give me family heirlooms!”
“What do you think the tortoiseshell dresser set is?”
Her eyes widened.
“It was my great-grandmother’s.” He gently encircled her wedding band. “As was
this. And, of course, the tiny emerald earrings and the bracelet with the
solitary sapphire, to match the changing colors of your eyes. They were my
portion of the jewelry from my grandmother. Their value is in sentiment, since
they’ve been passed down for generations.”
Astonishment knocked the wind out of her. “But you never told me,” she
sputtered. “And that was when you hadn’t told me how you felt, when you thought
I might leave!”
He cupped the back of her neck, bringing her within a breath’s span. “You needed
treasures to call your own, things no one could ever take away from you.”
Her bottom lip trembled treacherously. “But—”
Luke stilled the question with his lips, finally pulling back long enough to
look into her eyes. “And I already knew I’d found my treasure.”
And Kealey knew she’d found hers. Her forever love, family, and children. They
were a treasure beyond compare. Treasures an unloved child never dreamed she
would have. Meeting Luke’s tender gaze, she fell in love with him all over
again. And knew, beyond the slightest doubt, that she would again and again.
Forever.