Back To Luke

“What are you doing here?” she asked. “Last I knew you were in New York, making mega bucks. You said you’d never come back to live in a small town.”

“I changed my mind.” To avoid telling her why, to avoid explaining the worst thing that had ever happened to him, he gestured to the other side of the porch, walked over a few feet and turned the corner. She followed. “I’m building that for Miss Ellie. It’s done, except for the painting.”

“It’s beautiful. I love gazebos. There’s this really nice one in Paris in the—”

“Versailles Gardens. I know.”

She cocked her head at him, a frown marring her brow. “You used to live overseas and traveled in Europe. I forgot about that.”

Of course she had. This woman was very good at forgetting.

“How come Jess didn’t build it?”

“For one thing, I like doing stuff for Miss Ellie and this is a gift from my whole family for her seventy-fifth birthday. Besides, it’s already too much for Jess, trying to keep up with the flowers Miss Ellie can’t get to, work, pitch in as Annie’s soccer coach and do all the other things a husband and dad has to do.”

“When will he be back?”

“End of the week.”

Her eyes filled with something. Sadness, maybe, or was it fear? Whatever it was made them glisten like wet amethysts. And he remembered how the expression sucker punched him every time she got upset.

“Oh, dear.”

“He couldn’t have known you were coming.” Luke’s tone was gruff, and he had to shake off the kernel of reaction forming in his belly.

“He didn’t.” She nodded to the house. “Nor does Eleanor.”

There was noise inside, and then Miss Ellie came to the screen, dressed in her Sunday best—a pretty pink suit, which set off her snow-white hair and still-sparkling blue eyes. “Luke, dear, I saw a Lexus parked out front. Did one of your female friends drive over to help you finish painting the gazebo?”

“Come onto the porch, Miss Ellie,” he said gently.

Pushing open the screen, the older woman stepped outside and addressed the dog. “Hello there, Krystle. Having a nice time with Luke?” She glanced to the side and saw Jayne. “Oh. You must be a friend…” Her hand went to her chest. “Oh, dear Lord, Jaynie. Jaynie!”

Jaynie’s face transformed from stone-cut marble to soft sandstone. “Hello, Eleanor, I…”

Suddenly, Jayne closed the gap between her and Miss Ellie and threw herself into the older woman’s arms. From his vantage point, Luke saw Jayne close her eyes and hold on for dear life. The intimacy of their reunion made him feel like a voyeur.

Miss Ellie ran her hand over Jayne’s hair. He remembered when it was longer and he could wrap it around his fist. “I’m so glad you’re here,” the older woman said. “I was praying for you just now in church, as I do every Sunday. God must have heard me today.”

Still Jayne held on, as if she wasn’t used to human contact.

Miss Ellie shot a worried glance at Luke. “Jaynie, are you all right?”

Jayne shook her head.

“Then you’ve come to the right place. Whatever it is, Jessie and I will help.”

Luke could barely hear Jayne when she spoke. “I’m in trouble, Eleanor. Big trouble.”

Oh, great, Luke thought. Not only had she abandoned Miss Ellie years ago, stirred up all kinds of things between Jess and Naomi, and ditched Luke without a second thought, now she was in big trouble and had come here to dump whatever it was on them.

Luke couldn’t watch the scene before him so he left the porch and went back to the gazebo. Jayne’s appearance in town had thrown him. But he knew one thing for certain. He’d learned his lesson twelve years ago and was sure as hell going to make sure Jayne Logan didn’t take advantage of two of the people he loved most in the world.

CHAPTER TWO

BECAUSE JAYNE needed some time to collect herself, Eleanor had gone inside to make lemonade. Jayne walked around the house to a wrought-iron table and chairs. She slipped off the jacket she’d layered over a brown silk shirt and that was now making her warm. Draping it over the back of one of the chairs, she sat. From there, she studied the gazebo.

The whole structure was in keeping with the materials and the lines and angles of the main house. Black shingles matched those on the big roof, as did the slate-blue siding around the bottom half. She wondered what color he was going to paint the posts. They wouldn’t be left natural, because he was up on a ladder priming them right now.

The noonday sun glistened off his sweaty skin, emphasizing his darkly tanned back and the breadth of his shoulders. God, she couldn’t believe he was here, in Riverdale. She’d never even considered that he’d be back in town, or she most certainly wouldn’t have come. When she knew him in New York, he and his friend Timmy had been making their first million, already at age twenty-six, and Luke had told her he’d never leave the big city. She wondered if Timmy was in Riverdale, too. She’d have to ask Eleanor about him.

The older woman exited from the side French doors and set down glasses of lemonade. Jayne was glad for the distraction from Luke. “Now, tell me everything, dear.”

Jayne began simply. “Do you remember when I sent you the pictures and newspaper clippings of one of my buildings? The Coulter Gallery of Antiquities?”

“Yes, it’s lovely. So innovative and well designed.”

“Maybe not so well designed. The walkway that circled the interior of the building just…collapsed a few weeks ago.” Every time she talked about this, Jayne’s stomach clenched and her head began to hurt. “Luckily, there weren’t any patrons in the gallery—it closes at nine and this happened about two in the morning. But many of the artifacts were destroyed.”

Jayne shook her head, recalling the horrific phone call she’d received from the police. What had begun that day was a nightmare of epic proportions.

Ms. Logan? This is Chief Edwards of the LAPD. The upper walkway in the Coulter Gallery caved in. It did a lot of damage. Nobody was hurt, but we have a mess on our hands. The mayor said to contact your firm. We need the building plans and a consultation with you.

Bolting out of bed, she’d dressed hurriedly and sped over to the gallery. She’d never forget the sight of one of her babies maimed and crumpled into itself, or the smell of splintered wood and the light dusting of broken concrete filling the interior. Priceless artifacts, some of which were in now-smashed cases, some freestanding in the main area, were in shards. Later she would learn the astronomical cost of their ruin.

Eleanor’s touch on Jayne’s hand pulled her from the memory. “Oh, Jaynie, I’m so sorry. I know how important your career is to you. What caused the collapse?”

“We don’t have the results of the investigation yet. And I keep going over the plans and racking my brain for what I might have done wrong. I can’t find anything.” She sighed. “So far, neither can the independent firm I hired to determine what happened.”

“Then there’s a good chance you didn’t make a mistake.”

“I’m truly hoping that, Eleanor. Meanwhile, I just have to wait.”

“You’ll do that here.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’ll wait for the board’s findings in Riverdale with people who love you.”

Stunned at the unconditional acceptance, Jayne couldn’t speak around the lump in her throat.

Eleanor’s gaze was knowing. There were few secrets between the Harpers and Jayne. She’d come to Riverdale on most of her college vacations instead of going to her parents’ house because they were busy or traveling. “You went home first, didn’t you?”

Jayne nodded.

“And your father wasn’t supportive.”

That was an understatement. It was the confrontation with Andrew Logan that had driven her from the Hamptons. He’d actually scolded her for having gotten herself in this situation and turned his back on her. She’d been foolish to go to him, to think that this time he’d be genuinely concerned for her welfare rather than her success.