The old truck rattled out of sight and Luke grabbed Cochise’s reins. He swung into the saddle, then galloped toward home. Before reaching the big house, he pulled up and breathed in the fresh evening breeze, slightly tinged with the scent of cypress, cow manure and dust.
He was home, but he’d never felt more alone.
LUKE DIDN’T SLEEP MUCH. In the military for so many years, he had never slept soundly. He was hoping that would change once he returned to civilian life. So far it hadn’t. He was down early for breakfast.
Hap sat at the table stuffing bacon and eggs into his mouth.
Clover stood at the stove. “You don’t need to be playing poker with those young boys. They’ll take all your money.”
“Don’t tell me what to do, woman. We ain’t married,” Hap replied around a mouthful of food.
Luke poured a cup of coffee and leaned against the counter. “Why haven’t you two ever gotten married?”
“Are you kiddin’?” Hap gulped a swallow of coffee.
“Why would I want to marry him?” Clover thumbed in Hap’s direction. “He has no manners, tracks dirt into the house and talks with his mouth full. He eats like a pig and has no common sense. I’d kill him within a week.”
“Like you’re a Wal-Mart bargain. You nag every moment of every hour of every day. If I were married to you, I’d be begging for someone to shoot me.”
Clover pointed a spatula at him. “I’ll remember that when you want food again.”
Without another word, Hap took his plate to the sink. When he turned around, he pinched Clover on her butt and she swatted him with the spatula.
“I’m serious, Hap. We promised Sister Mary Margaret we’d help with the fundraiser at the orphanage and you’re not losing your money playing poker.”
“Don’t worry, Clo,” Luke said. “He’s a pretty good player. He might win some money.”
Hap winked, grabbed his hat and moseyed out.
Clover placed her hands on her hips. “Now that’s just encouraging him.”
Luke took a sip of coffee. “Clo, we don’t try to break anyone. We just have fun.”
“Hap’s too old to have fun.”
Luke suppressed a smile as he sat at the table. Hank walked in with his usual scowl, followed by their parents. His dad was dressed. This was a surprise.
Henry plopped into a chair. “I want oatmeal, Lucy.”
“Yes, dear.” His mother sounded tired. Or maybe just fed up. Luke watched her. Her jeans and shirt hung on her and her blondish-gray hair was combed back. She never took time to fix it anymore.
“Is the heifer sale all set?” Henry asked.
“Yes, Pa,” Hank replied. “Everything is set for the first week in April as always.”
“You have invitations ready to send to all the buyers?”
“Of course, that’s the point of the sale.”
“Don’t get smart, boy.”
“I’ve been doing this for years and at fifty I think I can handle just about everything on this ranch.”
“Now you listen here—” Henry shifted to face Hank. “Lucy, bring me a cup of coffee.”
His mother didn’t move or say anything.
Henry turned to her. “Lucy, did you hear me?”
Lucy threw a dish towel onto the counter. “Get your own coffee, Henry.”
Complete silence followed those words. The only sound was the ticking of the antique grandfather clock in the corner.
Henry recovered first. “What did you say?”
“I said get your own damn coffee. If you can bellow orders without any consideration for me, then you can wait on yourself. Being ill doesn’t give you the right to act like a complete ass.”
Lucy ran from the room, tears streaming down her face. Luke forced himself to stay in his seat. His father had to go after her, not Luke or Hank.
Henry frowned. “What did she say?”
Before anyone could reply, Clover answered, “She said you’re an ass. Rightfully so, too.”
Henry pointed a finger at her. “Watch your mouth. You can be gone in a heartbeat.”
“Just say the word, Mr. Henry. The nuns would welcome me back—” Clover paused “—in a heartbeat.”
Henry stood abruptly; his chair toppled backward to the hardwood floor making a loud banging noise. Luke jumped to his feet, but his dad didn’t need any help. He shuffled off to the den.
Hank and Luke stared at each other in bewilderment. Hank tipped his head toward the den. “Go talk to him.”
Luke raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t that a job for the oldest?”
“You’re the favorite, so get in there.”
Luke thought of his father’s set expression and decided to give him some time. He’d check on his mother first. He had a feeling she needed him more.
As he walked toward the hall, Hank snapped, “Luke.” But Luke didn’t pay him any attention.
He stopped short in the doorway to his parents’ bedroom. His mother was throwing clothes into a suitcase.
“Mom, what are you doing?”
“I’m leaving.” She grabbed more clothes out of a drawer and dumped them into the case. “He can’t treat me like this.”
His parents argued, but he’d never seen his mother so upset. He caught her by her forearms. “Mom, look at me.”
Tear-filled blue eyes looked at him and he felt a catch in his throat. “Pa’s been a little hard to deal with since he’s had the stroke, but you’ve been married for over fifty years. You can’t just walk out and leave him.”
Lucy gripped him around the waist, sobbing into his chest. “I can’t take any more. I just can’t.”
He smoothed her hair, thinking he’d rather take a bullet on the battlefield than listen to his mother cry. “What do you want me to do?”
She hiccuped and pulled away. Wiping at her eyes, she said, “Call Becky.”
Becky. He swallowed. “Why?”
“I can talk to Becky.”
“You can talk to me.”
“Becky’s a woman and she understands. Please, Luke.”
His mother curled up on the bed in a fetal position. His chest tightened at the sight. Why couldn’t she talk to him? Clearly she needed help he couldn’t give her. That wasn’t easy to accept.
As he charged upstairs to his room to make the call, he kept thinking the bullet would hurt a lot less. Becky answered on the second ring.
“Becky, this is Luke. My mother would like to see you.”
There was a noticeable pause, then she asked, “Is something wrong?”
“Yes,” was all he could say.
“I’ll be right there.”
Luke didn’t allow himself to think about Becky. They were now strangers, probably what they’d been all along. He’d just been too pigheaded to admit it.
When he reached the den, his dad was sitting in his chair, staring into space. Hank came over