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She paused, glancing at Luke. Of course. That’s why he was here. He was going to the barbecue, although he’d never attended before. Well, at least she knew. It wouldn’t be another surprise. She only wished there wouldn’t be so many people there who knew about their past—they’d be watching to see how she and Luke reacted to each other. Her two best friends, Gemma Whitmire and Lisa Thomas, would be at the barbecue, as well. They would help her avoid him if necessary.
“Here we go,” she said, all business as she wheeled the hand truck to the back of his pickup. “I want to put the trunk in the house.”
Luke jumped into the truck bed and pushed the trunk while Carly pulled. When it was far enough to tilt over the tailgate, he leaped down and helped her lower it to the ground, then onto the hand truck. Together, they rolled it to the house, lifted it up the three shallow steps to the front porch and then through the door into the living room.
Carly moved the coffee table away from the sofa and said, “Here is where I want it.”
They moved it into place then stood together, catching their breath.
“I had a couple of guys help me get it into my truck, but we probably should have unpacked it before we moved it.” Luke flexed his shoulders. “I don’t know what Omi put in there, but it feels like gold bricks.”
“Whatever it is, I’ll treasure it.”
He glanced around the living room, his gaze skimming over the 1940s-style sofa and chair she had reupholstered, the tables and bookcases she had refinished, and the paintings she had unearthed at estate sales and junk shops. She’d painted some of the pictures, too—abstract designs where she’d been playing with color, trying to recreate the feel of a sunset or the exact shade of a field of bluebonnets.
“Yes,” he finally said. “I can see that you will. This is very different than what your parents had in here. How are they, by the way?”
“They’re doing well now, but slowing down. They took everything with them when my dad got sick and they moved to Tulsa, so I’ve made the house my own.”
“It reminds me of you.” The corner of his mouth edged up. “It’s cozy. What you always wanted.”
And nothing at all like the mansion where he’d been raised in an upscale section of Dallas, and probably nothing like whatever penthouse apartment he now inhabited.
She folded her hands at her waist. “It’s the home I wanted to create for myself.” Silently she added, for us, but those were words she would never speak out loud.
“The place looks great, Carly.” Luke started for the door. “You’ve achieved what your parents tried to do with their organic garden. You’ve worked hard.”
“Thank you.” From nowhere a blast of regret and nostalgia swept over her. “I needed to keep busy after we...”
“Yes, of course.” Luke opened the door and stepped out. He held it open so she could follow him if she wanted to, but she didn’t.
Her only desire was to go huddle in her chair, to settle into calmness. She couldn’t do that, though. She had an order to deliver and a party to attend. She’d been looking forward to that, but now even the thought of the get-together filled her with dread.
“Thank you for delivering the trunk, Luke. I’ll take good care of it, and of whatever Wendolin left inside.”
“I know you will.” He descended the steps then turned back. “Organic gardening? Is that very labor intensive?”
“Of course, but it’s worth it because I can honestly say the produce is as fresh, good, and clean as I can make it.”
He nodded, as he looked out at her fields again. “I see.” He paused again, before he said, “Maybe I’ll see you later.” With a wave, he strode to his truck, climbed in and drove away.
Grateful the awkward encounter was finished, Carly leaned against the door frame and watched the Oklahoma red dust rise behind his tires then dissipate into the breeze.
Tears sprang into her eyes and she blinked hard to fight them back. Turning, she looked at her legacy from Luke’s German-born grandmother, the one who had taught her the importance of cherishing her family, the one who had comforted her when the family she and Luke had tried to create had disappeared in a miscarriage and the cold, silent recriminations that ended their brief marriage.
It all seemed so long ago, and she wouldn’t have thought it could still hurt so much. She thought she’d dealt with it, put it behind her, forgiven herself. And him. But maybe facing hurtful memories and being able to forgive were skills that needed to be practiced.
Sitting on the sofa, she ran her fingers over the design of flowers and birds carved into the top of the trunk. This wasn’t a piece she would refinish. That would be a travesty. It had come to America with the Bayer family when they fled Nazi Germany eighty years ago, but she didn’t know how old it was. The faded paint held only a hint of the beautiful colors that had once decorated the piece and the nicks and scratches spoke of years of everyday use. This had been treasured by Wendolin and her family, and Carly would continue that tradition.
She was tempted to lift the lid to see what was inside, to examine the precious items that had made it so heavy, but a glance at the clock reminded her she should have left ten minutes ago.
She patted the trunk lid. “I’ll be back,” she promised.
Hurrying to her bedroom, she grabbed her purse, along with the outfit she would wear to the Sandersons’ and a pair of highly polished boots. The restaurant owner to whom she was delivering her produce wouldn’t mind if she used their ladies’ room to change clothes and freshen up for the party. Gemma and Lisa would probably laugh because she never dressed up, but having seen Luke, she was glad she’d made the decision to do so tonight.
* * *
“GLAD THAT’S OVER,” Luke murmured as he rolled down the highway toward his aunt and uncle’s house. He had done his duty to Omi by delivering the trunk and putting it where Carly wanted it. Now it was time to go see what kinds of jobs Aunt Frances had for him to do before tonight’s barbecue.
He couldn’t keep his thoughts from returning to Carly, though. The lush prosperity of Joslin Gardens had been amazing, so different from the scrubby acreage on which her parents had first experimented with organic vegetables. It had been tough going since the ground below the thin topsoil was shale. Luke was sure the garden’s current success was entirely due to Carly’s hard work.
He’d never forgotten how beautiful she was with her deep brown eyes, strong features and shining black hair, and maturity had made her even more beautiful. He hadn’t seen her in all these years—had never been to the annual barbecue—because he hadn’t wanted to run into her... He didn’t want to bring up bad memories for her, but that’s what he’d done this afternoon.
He wouldn’t have come this year if he hadn’t been caught in circumstances he couldn’t change. He would tell her all about it as soon as things were settled. After that, he would deal with the consequences. And the hurt.
* * *
THE BARBECUE AT the Sanderson ranch was everything Carly remembered from the past few years, and everything she had hoped it would be this year—crowded, busy and fun. Best of all, the food looked delicious. Frances and her helpers had outdone themselves. Carly took that as a personal favor because she liked to eat and hadn’t had anything since breakfast.
The owner of the restaurant where she’d made her delivery had offered to have the cook fix her something, but Carly’s only interest had been in changing into her new red skirt and top and pulling on her boots. These were her dancing shoes and she intended to have fun tonight. She deserved it after the jolt she’d received today.
She greeted the people she knew, met a few more, and stood in line at the buffet table. Unashamedly, she filled two plates then turned to look for a place to sit. Spying an empty spot at a table where Lisa Thomas sat with several others, she headed in that direction.
Once she was seated, Lisa turned to her with her eyes wide and spoke quietly. “Did you know Luke is here?” She nodded to a spot across the patio where Luke was talking to his aunt and uncle. The three of them appeared to be deep in a serious discussion.
Tom and Frances Sanderson had held this barbecue every Memorial Day weekend since they had moved to Reston a few years ago. The news of the property for sale had come from Carly’s own father, a longtime acquaintance of Tom’s even before his daughter had met and married the Sandersons’ nephew. They had proved to be huge assets to the community because they were tireless fund-raisers for local causes. Their current passion was reopening the county hospital, which had been closed for several years. Carly knew Tom and Frances had plans to charmingly convince people to donate to the hospital fund, or twist a few arms if necessary.
“Luke?” she asked, bringing her thoughts back to Lisa’s question. “Yes. He came to my house.”
Lisa’s eyes rounded. “Seriously? Why?”
Around bites of food, Carly told her about the trunk.
“Wendolin remembered you in her will? How sweet. She was a wonderful person.”
“She was.” Carly smiled as she remembered. “So warm and funny...and random.”
Lisa smiled. “Yes, I remember the stories you told Gemma and me of how she’d start one thing, abandon it, start another, come back to the first, go to another.”
“Somehow she got a great deal done. Usually helping other people. And she was always fun to be around, even if her way of thinking was confusing.” Carly sighed. “She was delightful.”
Her eyes full of laughter, she asked, “Did I tell you about how she used to go to the end of her sidewalk every day and blow kisses to the kids on the school buses that went by?”
Lisa snickered. “Yes, and one day she failed to notice the passing bus wasn’t bright yellow and blew kisses to a load of county prisoners heading to pick up trash on the side of the highway. That must have been the best part of their day.”
“No doubt. She was a little...odd, but in the sweetest way. I’m sure she was the best thing in Luke’s life for the past dozen years.”
“Oh, why do you say that?”
Carly chewed thoughtfully, “Because after his mother died, she was the biggest positive female influence in his life—”
“Until he met you.”
Carly gave a small shrug. “We both know that didn’t turn out to be very positive for him.”
“Not your fault,” Lisa insisted.
Carly knew that wasn’t true, but she didn’t want to talk about it anymore. She was grateful when Lisa’s attention was snagged by someone else.
Before Carly had finished eating, Lisa and a couple of people left the table and others took their places. Carly looked up from her salad to see Luke, along with Tom and Frances, settling into chairs opposite her. Both men were looking anxiously at Frances, whose face had gone pale.
CHAPTER TWO (#ucc99e727-5c38-55d1-bea2-9a06ee719293)
“WHAT WERE YOU THINKING, Frannie?” Tom fussed at his wife as he handed her a glass of ice water. “When was the last time you had something to drink or eat?”
“Right now,” she answered, dutifully gulping some water and then digging into the food Luke placed in front of her.
Once Tom and Luke were sure she was eating, they glanced around the table. Luke gave a start when his gaze met Carly’s.
“Oh, hi.” He inclined his head. “Didn’t see you here.”
“I wouldn’t miss this,” Carly answered. Since she’d had a minute to steel herself, she was able to give them a genuine smile. “It’s the real start of summer and the food—” she moved her fork in a circular motion “—is incredible.”
Frances looked from Carly to Luke then smiled. “Thank you, dear. I have to say what we’ve prepared has only been enhanced by your fresh produce. Your suggestion of grilled zucchini spiced with red pepper was inspired. Everyone seems to love it.”
“I know my people. Around here, spicy always sells. Having alternative zucchini recipes helps me sell the overabundance, which has only increased with all the rain we’ve been having. And then there’s the fact that my squash plants don’t know a thing about birth control.”
Frances and Tom laughed and Luke’s eyes crinkled at the corners when he grinned at her.
This isn’t too bad, Carly thought. She could do this, no problem. She could sit and chat with this lovely couple and her own ex-husband, make small talk while stuffing her face. She took a bite of the cauliflower salad, savoring the tang of the Parmesan cheese.
There were two other people at the table, Roland and Becky Hall, whom she had known all her life. They were certainly aware of her long-ago marriage to Luke, but they wouldn’t bring it up.
Becky looked at Frances and said, “Thank you so much for inviting us. We haven’t been able to come in previous years, but we’re so glad we could make it this time. I love getting to know people. Where are you and your husband from originally, and how did you meet?”
“She’s a born romantic,” Roland contributed. “She loves this kind of stuff.”
“We’re from a small town about fifty miles from Houston,” Tom answered. “So we’re transplanted Texans.”
“We always knew each other growing up,” Frances added. “Although Tom is far, far older than I am.”
“Two years!” he objected, drawing a laugh from everyone.
Frances put down her fork and reached over to take her husband’s hand. “He’d been asking me out for a year...”
“And she always turned me down. I think I scared her.” Tom shook his head as if he was still mystified by that.
“You definitely scared me. You were so serious. Until prom. I thought that would be a safe date, not too awkward, lots of other people around. I could hide out in the girls’ restroom with my friends if need be... And then the staircase happened.”
“The staircase?” Luke, who obviously hadn’t heard this story before, looked from his aunt to his uncle.
“The prom was held at a beautiful ballroom a couple of towns over from ours. It had a big, sweeping staircase and all of us had to give our tickets to someone at the top of the stairs, have our picture taken together, or with our friends, and then go down to the ballroom.”
Frances paused for effect and sipped her water, her eyes laughing over the rim.
“And?” Carly prompted when she couldn’t stand the suspense. “What happened?”
“I was wearing my first pair of real high heels.”
Carly and Becky groaned.
“For days, I had practiced walking and dancing in those four-inch nightmares. I paid my little brother to be my dance partner. But it never occurred to me to practice going up and down stairs. After we got our picture taken, we turned to start down the steps.” Frances winced. “My heel caught on the carpet, my foot came right out of the shoe and I pitched forward.” Frances made tumbling motions with her hands. “I somersaulted all the way to the bottom without stopping—”
“While I rushed along trying to catch her, but she was moving too fast.”
The breathless audience stared as Luke asked, “Aunt Frances, were you hurt?”
“Only my pride,” she answered on a sigh. “I lay there staring at the ceiling, trying to get my breath back, and this man—” she gave Tom a loving look “—this man whipped a twenty-dollar bill out of his wallet and said, ‘You win the bet, Frances. I didn’t think you’d have the nerve to prove you’re head over heels for me.’”
Everyone broke into laughter and applause.
“I was the belle of the ball,” she concluded. “And I was so sore the next few days I could hardly move. I learned my lesson, though. I haven’t worn four-inch heels since.”
“Best twenty bucks I ever spent,” Tom said smugly. “We got married six years later.” He leaned over and kissed his wife, who happily kissed him back.
“I’m only glad I wasn’t the cause of you taking that tumble,” he went on. “I was so awkward and nervous, I’m surprised it wasn’t my feet you tripped over. You never would have gone out with me again.”
“Absolutely true,” Frances said.
Carly’s gaze flew to Luke. He was looking at his relatives with pride and humor, but he must have felt her attention on him because he turned his eyes to meet hers. A shadow passed over his features and he twisted away.
She and Luke certainly didn’t have a story like that, full of drama, but also sweetness. Theirs had consisted of overwhelming attraction, pain and recriminations.
Suddenly desperate to get away, Carly began gathering her silverware and stacking it on top of her two empty plates. “If you’ll excuse me, everyone, I know Frances’s chocolate cake is over on the dessert table and it’s eager to be my new best friend. I think I’ll take a piece into a dark corner and show it some appreciation.”
Becky smiled as she asked, “Cake, too? Sounds wonderful. I wish I could eat like that.”
“You might have to work as hard as Carly does,” Luke said. “She owns Joslin Gardens and does most of the work herself.”
“Oh, that’s right,” Becky said, giving a small wave of her hand as if to shoo away her previous error. “I knew that. And you refinish furniture, too, right? I’ve been looking for a small table and a couple of chairs for my breakfast nook. The one I’ve got is too big and too modern-looking for my house. I like retro.”
Even though she wanted to get away, Carly couldn’t resist an opportunity to talk about her other business. “As a matter of fact, I do. I recently completed a rebuild of a little gateleg table with two chairs. I painted it pale yellow. It looks like something straight out of the 1950s.”
“Sounds perfect,” Becky said. “When can I see it?”
They arranged a time for her to come out to Joslin Gardens and Carly was at last able to stand and begin making her escape, but she stopped when Tom asked, “You’re going to open a shop in town, right? To sell your furniture and other pieces?”
“That’s right, although I haven’t settled on a space yet. I’m calling it Upcycle because everything will be reclaimed and repurposed.”
