“You have a date?”
“It’s not a date,” Luke said to Paul when he got home later that night.
The walk to Elaine’s home was uneventful, mainly because he kept his mouth mostly shut. He wasn’t sure if the silence was awkward or companionable. He was far too busy watching for any signs of stress or strain from her. But her gait was steady. She didn’t wobble or miss a step.
She wouldn’t let him call an Uber. Apparently, there weren’t any in this small town. There weren’t taxis either. Either you walked, or you called someone for a ride. Most people didn’t need a ride unless they were going out of the town to one of the farms or ranches.
So, they'd walked.
Elaine had winced when she’d climbed the steps to her small brownstone. Luke had balled his hands into fists so that he wouldn’t reach out to her. He’d been around enough wounded soldiers to know the high price of pride. But he had stayed one step behind her in case he needed to catch her.
Was it wrong that part of him had wanted her to fall back into his arms so that he could hold her again?
“It’s not a date,” Luke repeated, but to himself this time. “It’s a thank-you dinner.”
“Because she saved your life?” said Paul.
“Yeah.”
“From a book?”
“I was reading a book while walking into the street.”
“What book?” Maggie Banks, Dylan’s wife, spoke up from the kitchen counter. She was lifting food out of Tupperware and placing it onto plates. Paul’s fridge was stocked with foods for days after a few of the wives, and their husbands, had stopped by to introduce themselves. Maggie’s offering was hot dogs and chicken nuggets.
“It was my book,” said Luke. “I’d grabbed a copy from the local bookstore to sign for a young man I met at the library.”
“Dylan got me to read your first book,” said Maggie as she pulled out ketchup and mustard. “I was surprised I liked it. I’m not usually one for space wars, but I loved the underdog story.”
Of course, she did. There were dogs running all under her feet.
“I only wished there was a love story,” Maggie said.
“There is a love story,” said Luke.
“Her true love died before the story starts,” Maggie protested. “It’s been two books. I think she should fall in love again. Don’t you?”
Luke pursed his lips. Every female reader he came across had this same complaint. It wasn’t enough that a female heroine led a ragtag army to victory in two books. They weren’t satisfied until someone’s heart was on the line.
“Well, Luke only writes what he knows,” said Paul, “and he’s never been in love.”
“You’ve never been in love?” asked Maggie.
“No, I haven’t,” said Luke, glaring over Maggie’s head at Paul. “But I know what it looks like.”
That sobered his friend up. Paul knew the love story of Luke’s parents, along with its tragic ending.
“Your father was a widow?” said Maggie.
Luke nodded.
“He never found love again after your mother passed?”
“He didn’t see a need to. Some kinds of love only happen once, especially that kind that hits you square in the eyes and knocks you off your feet. When that happens, it’s typically just the one time.”
“Sounds like this woman knocked you off your feet,” said Maggie.
She certainly had. Quite literally. Elaine was a small thing, too. It was a wonder she’d managed it.
But Luke knew he wasn’t in love. This was simply an attraction. Possibly gratitude.
No, it was definitely an attraction. He’d felt a tug of something when he’d seen Elaine earlier in the day, sitting in the restaurant reading that tragic book. He’d felt it when she’d tugged him out of harm’s way, and the sun spotlighted her beauty. He saw it again when she woke in the hospital.
“He knocked me square off my feet,” said Paul, “and I’m not in love with him.”
Luke shot Paul a dirty look. Paul leaned back in his chair with a cheeky grin.
“What’s her name?” asked Maggie.
“Elaine. Elaine Reynolds.”
“Ohhh,” Maggie grimaced.
“What?” asked Luke. “Why, ohhh?”
“Well, the thing about Elaine—”
Maggie didn’t get to finish telling him the thing about Elaine. The dogs began to bark as two other women came into the back door. Luke had learned quickly that knocking on doors was not a habit on the ranch. Neither was locking doors.
Two other wives entered the back door carrying plastic containers. Luke was momentarily diverted by the smell of curried spices as Ruhi Jeffries, another wife here but also the daughter of Dr. Patel, came into the back door. At her back was Ginger Collins, another wife, but also the state senate representative.
The conversation halted for five whole minutes as the women shuffled around the kitchen, making their own pleasant conversation, fussed over Paul, and piled more food into the refrigerator.
“What’s the thing about Elaine Reynolds?” Luke prompted Maggie at the first lull in the friendly banter.
“Elaine Reynolds?” asked Ginger. “I remember her from high school. I haven’t seen her in forever.”
“She’s still working at the library,” said Ruhi. “I see her when I take the kids in to study. It’s the quietest place in town.”
“I remember she always used to have her head in a book,” said Ginger
“But only the tragedy books,” said Ruhi. “Like the ones we had to read as part of English class, she’d read them for fun. More than once.”
Was that it? Was that the thing about Elaine? She was a lover of classic literature?
“Is she still not dating?” asked Ginger.
“I don’t think so,” said Ruhi. “I know Juan has been after her since she got back from college, and she always turns him down.”
“Well, Luke here has a date with her,” said Maggie.
“It’s not a date,” said Luke.
“Which is a good thing because Luke is terrible on dates,” said Paul.
“Why is he terrible?” asked Ginger.
Before Luke could defend himself, his best friend, who was taking way too much pleasure out of this, continued. “His palms sweat for one. He always winds up spilling something on himself, or on the date. And he can never close the kiss. He can’t read signals.”
Luke opened his mouth. But he had nothing. All of that was true. Paul smirked, knowing he’d spoken nothing but facts that Luke couldn’t dispute. Luke always felt like it was his first time in the cockpit when he was around a woman he liked. And the flight always ended with him crashing and burning. Whereas Paul Hanson could swagger onto the scene with confidence, brandishing his blaster pistol, and having the women fall at his boots.
“We can help,” said Maggie.
“Maggie, you’ve never been on a first date in your life,” said Ruhi. “The first time you met Dylan, he proposed a marriage of convenience.”
“And look where I am now,” said Maggie, brandishing the rock on her left hand. “Besides, the same thing happened between you and Sean, and look at the two of you.”
“I’ve had plenty of bad first dates,” said Ginger. “I can help.”
“It’s not … I’m not …” But the women were all talking over Luke, planning out his first date with Elaine. He had to wait for another lull in the banter before he could ask the question that plagued him. “So, why doesn’t she date?”
Maggie shrugged. “I remember that her parents went through a really nasty divorce. When she was a kid, Elaine was at the library every day until they closed.”
“Then she would come to the church until late,” said Ruhi. “She’d be reading in the pews during evening service. That probably had something to do with it.”
“But she’s really smart,” said Ginger.
“And really pretty,” said Ruhi.
“She loves books,” said Maggie. “And you write books. This is a match made in heaven.”
“Wait,” said Luke. “Slow down. The woman doesn’t want to date, but you all are trying to match us like we’re going to get married.”
Not a single one of the wives denied the statement. They were all sizing him, as though they were taking his measurements for his wedding tuxedo.
Luke looked around for Paul and realized his friend had already made it out the back door, moving faster than his injured hip should allow. He was stuck in a room full of female matchmakers on a ranch where soldiers were known to tie the knot within three months. He was in trouble.
But, for some reason, he didn’t run.