She couldn’t just go up to his door—too much like groveling. And she would not beg Luke, not for anything. As it happened she still remembered his old home phone number (it was tattooed on her heart), but he probably didn’t have the landline anymore—who did?
So she would let fate decide what would happen. She’d make the call—just to prove to herself and the world that Luke Fletcher was not the answer to this or any other problem she might have. And if he wasn’t...
She was sunk.
Chapter 3
Luke wolfed down the turkey sandwich on five-grain bread, his mind on the maple cabinets waiting in his garage. The customer requested a black cherry stain, but that was a mistake. Maple didn’t take dark stains well. Luke still hoped to bring the client around.
He took his plate to the sink and rinsed it, then put it in the stainless steel dishwasher. Luke had upgraded the kitchen after his mother married Greg Barnes and moved to Florida, leaving Luke to assume the mortgage on his childhood home. When he was finished, he headed toward the garage, his bulldog, Walter, lumbering behind him.
The dog stared up at him with his wrinkled face and tragic brown eyes. “Ready to go back to work, boy?”
For Luke, every day was take-your-dog-to-work day. For Walter, the garage was just another place for a long nap. But what the dog lacked in energy he made up for with a big heart.
The phone rang in the living room—the landline. He reached for a work boot and shoved his foot into it. Most likelya solicitor. No one he knew used or even remembered that number anymore.
Except maybe his dad. If Luke was gut-level honest, it was the reason he hadn’t dropped the landline years ago.
He paused in lacing his boots as the shrill ring sounded again. He straightened and went into the living room, telling his heart it was only someone selling windows, a credit card, or a “free” four-day vacation to the Bahamas.
He picked up the handset. “Hello?”
A pause followed and Luke waited for the recording to kick on. He should just hang up. But a longing for a man he hadn’t heard from in years made him try one more time.
“Hello?” It was more of a bark, but he was impatient with himself and his pitiful yearning for someone who’d probably forgotten him long ago.
He’d just begun to hang up when a voice came through the handset.
“Luke?” A woman’s voice.
He pulled the phone back to his ear. “Yes... Who’s this?”
“It’s... It’s Allie. Allie Adams.”
As if there were another Allie. His heart skipped a couple beats, then made up for it by doing double time. For the past seven years Allie had been holding what was apparently a one-hundred-year grudge that still had many years left on it. He could only think of one reason she’d call.
Her parents’ trip to Pennsylvania—the anniversary party. Dread slithered down his spine. Bill and Becky had an accident in the mountains, and she was calling to tell him... “Your parents?”
“They’re fine.” Her voice was brittle.
Thank God.He released a breath, leaning against the solid chestnut cabinets.
“Sorry to call out of the blue like this, but I have to ask you a favor.”
“Okay...” He couldn’t imagine what she’d want since she hadn’t willingly spoken to him in years. And he could tell by her tone that The Grudge was still in effect, favor or no.
Her heavy sigh came through the phone. “My parents restored my grandparents’ ’57 Chevy for their anniversary.”
“I know.”
“Of course you do. When it got delayed I offered to drive it to my grandparents’ for them, but there seems to be a minor problem.”
“And that is...?” he asked when she paused.
“I’m here in Copper Creek to pick it up, and I didn’t realize—it’s a stick shift.”
“You can’t drive a stick.”
