Luke shrugged and glanced at his watch. Damn, it would have to be Marie. She was a hell of a looker and Luke had noticed. Man, had he noticed. It was one of the only times in his life he could remember being jealous of a brother whose life, in Luke’s estimation, had been pitiable. A shallow man interested only in the surface. It angered Luke that he himself found Marie’s surface interesting when she was very likely every bit as shallow as his brother. She’d married him, hadn’t she? Luke had stayed away as much as possible, disgusted with himself and the situation. Women watched soap operas with plots like this. He certainly wasn’t going to star in one. But today he had no choice.
“There’s a drugstore in the mall. Run in and buy yourself whatever you need for your headache. We’ve got a little under five minutes before I absolutely have to be on the road. Buy enough for two. Better make it extra-strength whatever it is. I seem to be developing a major migraine myself in the last few minutes.”
And men complained women were illogical. She’d like to see a researcher try to flow chart a man’s thought processes some time and see how far they got. “Luke, what are you talking about? I mean, I’m sorry if you have a headache and certainly I’ll be contacting our insurance company and we’ll take care of any damages but—”
“You’re down to three minutes,” Luke interrupted, checking his watch once more. “Then we’re leaving for Kalamazoo. And by the way, I’ll be doing the driving.”
“Kalamazoo!” Marie yelped. “I can’t—”
“Come on, Crash, give me a hand here. I think I’ve got a tool kit back in the trunk.” Luke popped his trunk and seemed surprised to see Marie still standing there when he glanced up. “Move, woman! My headache and my incapacitated automobile are both courtesy of you and your uncle. The least you can do is help me keep my appointment.”
Marie closed her eyes in defeat. Forget it. She’d never win. Her headache had reached such proportions she doubted anything would help. “Never mind,” she sighed but she doubted they heard, so engrossed was the twosome in debating the merit of one tool after another for its metal-bending properties. Marie trudged her way back to the driver’s side of her grandfather’s car’s. Climbing in, she turned the key in the ignition and gently, carefully pulled slowly forward, disengaging her grandfather’s bumper from her dead ex-husband’s brother’s car. Marie shook her head. Her life had hit an all-time low with this one. Surely things would improve from this point on. After all, they could hardly get worse. Could they?
They could.
And did.
Marie rested her head on the steering wheel while she waited. Evidently she was on her way to Kalamazoo. Brief moments later Luke opened the door behind her and threw a shopping bag into the rear seat. Jason slid in beside it. Luke then opened the driver’s door. “Move over,” he directed.
Marie thought about arguing, decided it wasn’t worth it. “Fine,” she muttered as she scooted over. “Let the macho man drive. God knows a mere woman can’t be trusted behind the wheel of a car.”
Luke wasn’t feeling overly charitable when he switched on the engine. “Glad you realize it. Saves time. Now, fasten your safety belt.”
“Yes, sir,” Marie grumbled. Even a poor pitiful specimen such as herself knew enough to strap in, for heaven’s sake. Especially when a close relative of the original kamikaze pilot was steering. Ah well, she was numb anyway. She probably wouldn’t even notice all the close calls. Provided they remained close calls.
“You can just drop me off on your way out of town,” Jason called from the back seat.
Like hell, Marie thought. Why should she be the only one to suffer?
“No time,” Luke said, denying the request before Marie could open her mouth. “It’s going to be close as it is.”
He had them out of the lot and headed toward Kalamazoo and away from home base before Jason could do more than sputter.
Marie couldn’t help but admire his style. And Luke was a surprisingly good driver. His brother, Marie’s ex, had driven like a maniac. Live by the sword, die by the sword, Marie thought once more. She was only grateful Wade had been alone the day he’d finally done himself in. Marie gradually relaxed as Luke competently handled the wheel. She rode in silence, head back, eyes closed, letting her headache ease as the car smoothly ate up the miles.
“Idiot,” Luke muttered as he was cut off. He braked sharply and the shopping bag he’d tossed onto the back seat tipped over.
Jason righted the bag and began stuffing the spilled contents back in. “Little old for stuffed animals, aren’t you?” he asked as he retrieved a plush teddy bear from the floor-board and tossed it back into the bag.
“Why’d you cut things so close if all you needed was a baby gift?” Marie asked irritated all over again that he’d been where he shouldn’t have been, thus causing the accident.
“It’s for the meeting,” Luke muttered while he checked his mirror, signaled and zipped around a slow-moving truck.
“What kind of meeting requires teddy bears?” She turned around in time to see Jason pick up a thermal-weave blanket with satin binding and bound into a neat bundle with paper tape and plastic wrap. “And baby blankets?” she inquired suspiciously. “What, you’re on the board of the Kalamazoo orphanage?” Somehow the image just didn’t fit with his current piratical, swashbuckling look and her former impression of him.
“I’m picking up my, uh, daughter,” Luke admitted grudgingly, his cheeks stained red for no reason Marie could think of. “I have to meet with some social workers first.”
Marie’s brows rose and her eyes widened as she considered that tidbit. Well, there was certainly little that could be said. First of all, she hadn’t even known he had a daughter. For sure Wade had never mentioned it and she’d never seen hide nor hair of a child in any of her previous encounters with Luke.
“How old is your daughter?” Marie inquired before caution got the better of her.
“Two. I think.”
He thought? He didn’t know his own child’s age? Marie sat back in her seat. Well, she’d figured out the Deforest family was seriously messed up about a month after her wedding. She supposed she shouldn’t be surprised that Wade’s older brother had to have his toddler released to him by a social worker. And she wasn’t exactly in a position to throw stones, was she? Her only family seemed to be specializing in the bizarre and unusual themselves, what with her taking on the task of raising her own uncle. Well, it was certainly nothing to her, Marie decided. She’d simply make sure she was out of the picture by the end of the afternoon. Luke could have the social worker come and live with him for all she cared. Marie just felt sorry for the poor, obviously neglected child.
“What’s her name?” she couldn’t help but ask.
“Carolyn.”
“Pretty.”
“It’s okay, I suppose.”
“You don’t like it?”
“Not particularly.”
“Then why’d you pick it?” Marie’s headache was beginning to flare up again.
“I didn’t. Her mother did. I had no say.”
The mind boggled. What was the mother, a female sumo wrestler? Marie couldn’t begin to imagine a circumstance, any circumstance where Luke Deforest wouldn’t have a say—wouldn’t make darn sure he had a say.
Marie decided not to pursue it, however. The answer was bound to only further confuse her. The entire day had taken on a surreal quality. Nothing was making sense. She’d read stories where people walked through mirrors or wardrobes and found themselves trapped in an alternate world. Under