A Place Called Home by Lori Wick Page A

Gram.”
    As lunch preparations were made, Christine was aware of Luke’s eyes. They settled on both her and Grandma Em for long, intense moments. The conversation was light, but Luke seemed somewhat distracted.
    The three made short work of thick ham slices, fresh-made bread, and cheese wedges. The peaches were ripe to perfection, sweet as candy.
    A forkful of chocolate cake was halfway to Grandma Em’s mouth when Luke said offhandedly, “I heard today that Lars Larson broke his arm.” Luke watched as the women across from him paused ever so slightly in their eating before rushing on, taking care not to look anywhere but at their plates.
    Luke felt a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach. Their pause had confirmed the gossip he had heard downtown to be true.
    â€œDid you know he had broken his arm, Gram?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œWas he able to get to your porch and shutters before he fell?”
    â€œNo, he was not.” Her answer was quiet, but firm.
    Luke’s own eyes dropped to his plate. He was beginning to wish he hadn’t even asked. A fight with his grandmother was not what he wanted, but one look at her face told him he had best step carefully or that was exactly what he would have.
    Grandma Em’s chin was thrust out, her eyes sparkling with defiance. Luke nearly laughed out loud as his eyes swung to Christine. She sported the same mulish look, ready for battle.Two against one. It just wasn’t fair. Luke knew that another tactic was needed here.
    â€œWho climbed the ladder?” he asked, as if he didn’t really care.
    â€œI did.”
    â€œChristine.” The women answered in unison.
    Luke sat and eyed each woman in turn. Both were on the verge of speaking in their own defense when Luke stood.
    â€œWell, ladies, the porch looks nice. You paint very well.” This said, Luke bent and kissed Grandma Em’s cheek. “Thanks for lunch. I’ll see you both Sunday.” And with that he left.
    You could have heard a feather drop in the kitchen after the front door shut. Neither woman spoke. Feeling shame at how defiantly they had behaved, Emily and Christine exchanged sheepish glances and moved to do the dishes. As Christine worked, she realized that Luke still didn’t know how much she appreciated the verses. Feeling double the guilt, she worked on, determined to let Luke know some way on Sunday.

23

    With a final look in the mirror that took in a fresh shirt and clean blue jeans, Silas headed down the hall to Luke’s room. Luke, having just slipped into his suit jacket, turned to find Silas standing in his bedroom, eyebrows raised in surprise. Luke would have left the room at that time, but Silas wandered in and dropped down on the bed, eyeing his brother with amusement.
    â€œYou’ve already impressed the Chambers family enough to get the horses at a good price. Why the suit?” Before Luke could answer, Silas went on. “It wouldn’t have anything to do with the address of one Miss Caroline Chambers I saw on your dresser, would it?”
    â€œI just thought it would be nice to welcome them to Baxter smelling better than a horse.” Luke’s voice sounded defensive, even to his own ears, and he wasn’t sure why. He really didn’t expect to see Caroline, let alone encourage her if he did.
    Movement below Silas’ beard told Luke he was fighting laughter. Silas looked down at himself before asking with feigned innocence, “Do I smell all right? Maybe I should change into a suit too.”
    This brought a reluctant smile to Luke’s face, and his voice was gruff to hide his amusement. “Get to the wagon, Silas, before I leave you home.”
    Baxter’s train station was uncrowded—unusual for a Saturday afternoon, but a blessing nonetheless. The three horses coming in for the Cameron ranch would be ready for a low-key arrival.
    Luke and Silas stood together and watched the train pull