Madelaine thought that it might be shocking for Luke to see his late wife’s work right there in front of him, so she prepared herself to speak gently and empathetically to him. But when he turned around to her, his face was pulled into a tight scowl, and he looked furious—not wounded. Madelaine was utterly perplexed by his reaction.
Evelyn stuck her face through the door with a bright smile. “Good morning, Luke. Would you like a cof—…?” As soon as she stepped into the room, her smile vanished.
“What is this?” Luke’s hands were balled into fists as he held two of the fabric squares up. “These belonged toher… or not?” He stared at Evelyn now. His confusion was written all over his face.
Evelyn could only nod.
“How did they end uphere?” Luke clearly lost his struggle to remain calm.
“Issy would have wanted me to…” Evelyn began, but Luke interrupted her a second time.
“How dare you? What right do you think you have to touch anything of hers?” His voice became increasingly louder. Evelyn’s eyebrows shot up.
“What? She was my best friend, and—” she tried to defend herself, but Luke’s outrage found a new target when he turned his anger toward Madelaine. “How many more lies and deceptions must I discover, Madelaine?”
“I gave them to her!” Evelyn exclaimed, but Madelaine had reached a point where she didn’t want her friend to fight her fights anymore.
“All these secrets! What is wrong with you two?!” Luke’s voice was booming like thunder now, and Belle began to cry. So did Madelaine, but it was not out of sadness. She was furious.
Yet again, Luke’s reaction was utterly ridiculous, and Madelaine was so angry that her whole body shook. She asked Evelyn to take the children out of the room, and she did.
“What is wrong withyou?” Madelaine screamed. “Why are you always mad? Why is everything I do always wrong?”
“This is my wife Isabelle’s embroidery! It shouldn’t even be here!” he countered through gritted teeth.
“Iam your wife now!” Madelaine yelled at him, stomping her foot. “You can’t even have a single conversation without fighting! Maybe you wouldn’t act so irrationally if you were sober! What is your problem?”
Madelaine’s eyes were firing daggers. Luke’s hazel eyes turned dark.
He threw the crumpled fabric pieces back onto the bed. Then he stomped right past her and out of the room, straight toward the front door.
Madelaine scoffed. “Sure. Go ahead,” she said sarcastically as he swung the door wide open. “More alcohol will solve the problem. Am I right?”
He slammed the door so harshly it was a miracle that it didn’t fly off its hinges.
Madelaine exhaled a deep breath. Then she stared up at the ceiling and raised both hands toward it. “Why, God? Why, oh, why did you send me such a difficult man?”
Chapter Eighteen
Stevensville Saloon — Noon
Luke stood at the bar, downing his third drink, when Caleb walked in and joined him. He immediately ordered another one. “Make it a double, Moe,” he said grumpily.
Given the rather early hour of the day, it wasn’t overly busy, and that suited him just fine. He didn’t look at Caleb, but he saw out of the corner of his eye how he raised two fingers, ordering the same.
“You’re difficult to track down these days,” Caleb said when Moe brought him his drink.
Luke didn’t reply.
“Are you going to tell me what all that was about?”
Luke waited for his double whiskey, drank it in one go, and ordered another one. When Caleb held up his hand to Moe to stop him from filling up Luke’s glass again, Luke snorted angrily.
“I don’t need a babysitter, Caleb. Go home to your wife, or do whatever makes you happy,” he said grumpily before he shot Moe a warning glance to fill his glass.
“What about your own wife?” Caleb countered.
Luke grunted as Madelaine’s face popped into his mind. It almost physically hurt him to see her cry the way she had this morning. She usually had so much warmth in her beautiful eyes, but today they’d looked like deep frozen lakes.
