Chapter Eleven

“Get out of here, you two,” Aunt Cora said. “We older folks can set up things fine without you. But be back before noon.”

Steph nodded. “Let’s go Emma while the going’s good.”

Emma would rather stay behind with her aunts and mother, but she allowed her sister to pull her out into the crowded floor. Rain fell with a thundering roar, reminding her of the accident. She shivered at the vague memories that still haunted her. Would she ever forget them? Her baby was gone, so probably not.

“Thank God the committee decided to hold the festival inside this year,” Steph said, stopping in the middle of the community center’s large room. “This looks even bigger than last year.”

Emma nodded. Orange and black were the predominant colors with a sprinkling of yellow, red, and green. Five rows of long tables with yellow or green tablecloths sat in the center of the spacious building, with Thanksgiving themed decorations set every five or six feet. Along the front wall and the sides were colorful displays on tables with a mix of holiday themes, big signs hanging from the front or along the wall behind the tables with the names of the sponsors.

“Let’s start at the left and work our way around.” Steph took her arm and led her to the first display. “I plan on getting something from most of the sellers.”

Emma forced a grin. “I believe you.”

“This one looks promising,” she said, stopping at the first seller. “Last year I got some pies from this church. Good.”

“Nice display.”

A big, fake turkey sat in the center of the table with loads of traditional meal fixings around it. Fluffy potatoes with gravy and green beans, red cranberries, and corn looked so real Emma could almost taste them. On either side were warm pies and plates of cookies, real deserts covered in plastic wrap and ready to be sold. The sign leaning against the table read in big bold letters: All Money will be Donated to the Church’s Christmas Fund. Please be Generous.

“I’m going to buy more than one of these pies this year.” Steph picked up two apples and a pumpkin. She smiled at the older woman behind the table. “These are so good.”

“Thank you,” the woman said. “Everything we sell is wonderful.”

“Yes, I bet.” Steph paid and accepted the plastic bag. “Next.”

Emma followed her sister to the next table, where she brought two-dozen chocolate chip cookies and added them to the bag. They moved to the next table. Steph breathed in deep. “I’m in heaven.”

“You look it,” Emma said. “You won’t have to bake anything for a few months at the rate you’re going.” A hint of peace filled her. “And you love baking.”

“Okay, you caught me,” she said, stepping to an older man dressed as a pilgrim in all black. She paid for a plate of brownies and backed away from the table. “Mason’s family members and some friends go to the churches I buy from, so I thought I’d help them with their charity.”

Emma grinned. The real joy issuing from her sister eased her ache a bit more. “Giving to charity isn’t a bad thing, Steph.”

“I never said it was.” She swung the plastic bag at her. “I’m going to help some other charities now.”

Her sister was in her element. Just about every other table had a sign that mentioned collecting money for different charities. Homemade dog and cat toys sat on a table for the Animal Rescue of Bridgeview; a little further, another church held a bake sale for Christmas; beyond that was a booth collecting donations of gently used clothing and toys for children. Steph promised the woman she would gather some of her boys’ things and drop them at their office. They reached the end of the side and turned toward the first booth against the front wall.

“Now things for the adults,” Steph said, arching her eyebrows. She stopped and looked around. “Ah, here we are.”

Emma had been focusing on a Native American thanksgiving display on a table a few feet away when her sister suddenly stopped. Emma crashed into her back. “Hey, be careful.”

“Oops, sorry.” Steph didn’t sound sorry at all. “I’ve always wanted to try this wine,” she added, slipping to her side. “Said its award-winning stuff.”

“You don’t drink—” Emma’s mouth dried. “Luke?” A small woman stood beside him.

“Hi, Emma.”

Steph accepted a plastic glass from the smiling older woman and took a small sip, making a face. “Dry.”

“We have sweeter varieties.” The woman stepped away from Luke toward her sister. “Would you like to sample one of those, Stephanie?”

Emma glared at her sister. “Mrs. Benjamin knows your name?”

“Of course, dear.” She pressed into Luke’s side, a look of cunning knowledge in her eyes. “Luke, I’ll take care of her sister. You help your lady.”

His lady? Emma’s heart raced. More than anything his lady was what she wanted to be, but it wasn’t right to be delighted by her knowledge. She barely knew the man.

“Go on, Luke,” his mother said. “You must not leave a customer unattended.”

“Mom?”

“Better yet.” She pushed his arm. “You need to take a break. You’ve been no help to me at all today.”

He looked as startled as Emma felt at his mother’s brashness. Luke gathered his wits before she realized what was happening, and nodded. “I’ll be back soon, Mom.”

“No need.” Her smile extended to Emma before she smirked at Steph. “Your sisters and father will be here soon.”

“I just bet they will,” he said, obvious affection mixed with the hint of skepticism in his words. Then only his love shined in his eyes. “Thank you, Mom.”

“You’re welcome.”

Emma had a hard time taking her eyes off him as he walked around the booth. He looked so good in his tight faded jeans and simple T-shirt. Maybe a bit tired and sad, yet he still looked good.

Sad? Does he know about my accident? About me losing the baby?

“I could use some coffee.” He lifted his hand toward her and then dropped it. “I got home late last night, and had to get up early this morning to help bring in the wine. Yesterday they sold out completely.”

He waved his hand, indicating she should precede him toward the coffee booth at the end of the back row of steaming buffets. Her mother looked pleased when they walked past the buffet table. Was her mother in on Steph and Luke’s Mom’s deception? Probably.

“Every year I have to replenish the booth. Mom always misjudges how much people love her wine.”

“Mom and the aunts never do that.” Emma kept her focus on the people in front of her. She stopped behind an older lady and waited her turn. “I could use a cup of coffee. I didn’t…sleep well, either.”

He touched her then, a light brushing of his hand down her arm. Shivers spread in the places his fingers caressed, warming her for a brief instant. The woman got her coffee and moved from the table. Emma stepped to the front of the line. Luke paid and handed her a cup before taking her elbow lightly and striding toward the end of one of the long tables. He pulled out a chair for her.

“Thank you.”

He nodded and stepped around the table, settling in the seat across from her. He sipped his coffee, obviously waiting for her to speak. The sharp scent of the dark liquid drifted toward her. The darkness under his eyes and lines around his mouth showed he spoke the truth about not sleeping. She set down her cup and reached toward him, freezing for a second before touching the darker skin under his eyes.

“Look that bad?”

She traced her fingers down to his chin, and then dropped her hand. “I was supposed to talk to you first.”

“You did, babe.”

“Saying your name isn’t talking to you.” She sipped her coffee. “Did you know your mother knew my sister?”

Luke shrugged, but didn’t answer. He just considered her around the coffee cup, sadness in his eyes and a slight frown on his face. He sipped the liquid, knuckles tightening around the cup. His gaze traced along her sling to her ribs until they focused on her middle. Then he lifted his eyes to her face. Tension roared off him like wave after ocean wave.

Say something, Luke.

Still, he stayed quiet.

“You know about…”

“Yes.”

She sensed his tight control, his patient power. “It…hurts.”

“Yes.” He touched her tense hand and then placed his fingers back around the cup. “You broke your arm?”

“And a few ribs,” she said, fighting to keep the tears away. “My right lung was also punctured. The doctor said I got to the hospital in time to repair that, but…”

“But?”

Tears did fall then. “They couldn’t save my baby.”

“I’m sorry, babe.”

“Babe?” His image wavered in her vision as the tears overflowed, falling unhindered down her cheek to hang for a brief second on her chin. He brushed them away, setting his hand light on the sling. She focused on his caring touch. “My heart aches. I didn’t think it would…hurt so much.”

“So does mine,” he said, eyes shining with unshed tears in response to her pain. “I know he was my brother’s child, yet it was…”

“What?” She needed to hear it. She needed to hear him say it. “It was what?”

“Also yours.” He stepped around the table and crouched beside her, placing his hand lightly on her middle. “That’s why I hurt.”

She loved this man. It didn’t matter if they met less than a month ago. Her parents had fallen in love almost at first sight too, and they had a good life together for over thirty years. It didn’t matter if she’d made the mistake of sleeping with his brother when she was drunk and depressed. Mark didn’t matter.

Luke placed his hand under her chin and raised her head. “You probably don’t know this, but my mom went to the hospital to see you.”

“She did?”

“She waited until your mom and sister left,” he said, moving his spread hand to the back of her head. “She was hoping to get away before they returned, but didn’t make it in time.”

“They never told me,” she said. “Our moms talked?”

“Yes.” A mysterious look brightened his sad eyes. “I just found that out a few minutes ago.”

“So that’s how they knew each other.”

His grin widened. “Seems like it.”

She should be pissed at her sister. How dare she connive to get the two of them together? How dare Mom and Luke’s mother go along with it? Everything was resolved like she wanted when she called Mark that morning, yet that didn’t change anything. His brother still got her pregnant. The Benjamins would always know that.

Luke deserved better.

“Mom asked your mother to Thanksgiving dinner,” he said, an enigmatic, slightly alarming look in his eyes. “And she accepted the invitation for both of you.”

“She shouldn’t have, Luke.”

“Why?”

“Why? Why do you think?” Keeping anger inside at a situation that was mostly resolved wasn’t an easy thing. So why try? Why not let go and see where things landed? Just the question eased her mind. “We barely know each other.”

“So?”

One of his fingers slid to her mouth, caressing her bottom lip until tingles raced through her. Her body remembered this man’s touch. When his lips replaced his finger in a gentle kiss, she let go of the last of her apprehension. He growled her name and deepened the kiss, lifting her to encircle her arms loosely around him.

“Well, will you look at them?”

Emma clutched his T-shirt at the sound of her sister’s laughing voice. Luke let go of her mouth and twisted her around to face her smirking sister and tearing-up mother. Both his hands spread wide on her stomach.

“You’re not allowed to do that, honey.” Her mother choked out the words. “I read the instructions from the doctor. No sex for six weeks.”

“That’s fine with me.”

“Good.” Another pleased voice spoke from behind them. Mrs. Benjamin patted her son’s back as she moved past them and stopped between her mother and sister. “That will give us all time to get to know each other better.” She smiled gently at her. “Time enough to settle any mistakes from the past so we can move into the future. Past is the past.”

No tears came at Luke’s mom’s tentative acceptance, yet Emma’s aching heart yielded a bit. In time, she hoped to have her approval. She hoped all the Benjamin clan would forgive her past actions and receive her completely.

“Let’s get out of here before she starts crying again.” Steph linked arms with both their mothers and led them toward the right wall. “I need to finish giving to charity before Mason shows up and stops me.”

Their laughter roared until they wandered into the colorful displays.

“You’re not going to cry again?” he asked.

“No,” she said, twisting easily to face him. “Not now, but I might later.”

“I’m glad, babe.” His whispered words brushed over her mouth. “Because I love taking care of you.”

And she loved him taking care of her. She grinned up at him and wrapped her good arm around his neck. “Even if we can’t have sex?”

“No, we make love.” He groaned out a sound of frustration. “And, yes, even if we can’t do that.”

Would things work out between them? She didn’t know.

Only time would tell.