15 Summers Later, page 25
Luke studied the remaining muffins. “What flavors do you have?”
“Banana nut and blueberry.”
“I’ll take a half dozen of each. And yes. I know they’re two dollars apiece.” He handed over a twenty and a five. “I’m sure Madi has plenty of volunteers who would appreciate a delicious home-baked muffin made by the legendary Leona Evans.”
She beamed at him as she transferred nearly all of the remaining muffins into two more of the cardboard containers.
With offerings in hand, he waved goodbye to Madi’s grandmother and sister as well as Simon and Betsy, then headed across the crowded park toward the awning he saw fronted by a canvas sign that said Emerald Creek Rescue.
It was only a distance of maybe fifty yards between the two tents, but it took Luke forever to work his way through the crowd of people and dogs, especially those who wanted to stop and talk with him.
Since graduating from vet school and returning home to Emerald Creek to practice, he had discovered it was very difficult to go anywhere quickly in this community, where people liked to visit anyway and especially liked to ask questions about their pets. Through his work, he was acquainted with most of the dogs in town and plenty of them apparently enjoyed visiting the farmers market with their humans.
He felt compelled to stop and greet all of them.
He and his siblings used to complain about their father taking forever whenever they ran errands around town, mostly because he always stopped to talk to everyone he met.
He could still hear Dan Gentry’s calm words. Good vets are an integral part of their communities. They should never be too busy to talk to people about their concerns for their pets.
In the years since coming back to Emerald Creek, he had come to see how very right Dan had been, about everything.
Luke loved his job. He loved being that integral part of life here in this little Idaho community.
Yes, getting here had been tough, and there were times during vet school that he wanted to give up, especially when Sierra had been small and their lives had been so chaotic.
After Johanna died, he wanted to quit again. How could he be expected to care about a sneezing kitten when his daughter had just lost her mother?
Somehow he had managed to stick it out, to lose himself in helping others with their beloved animals. He would never regret it.
When he reached the ECAR booth, he found Madi chatting with a woman he didn’t know while his daughter talked to a couple of girls around her age who were each holding a black kitten, among the hardest animals to rehome. He stood out of sight, enjoying the sight of both Madi and Sierra, each completely in her element.
“They’re so cute,” one of the girls exclaimed, holding her freckled face to the kitten’s. “I wish my mom wasn’t allergic. I want one so bad!”
“So do I,” the other one said. “Nobody’s allergic at my house, but my dad says no more cats. We already have three. But they’re not nearly as cute as this one. Maybe I should adopt him and then tell my dad later.”
“I’m sorry,” Sierra said firmly. “But since you’re not eighteen yet, your parents have to agree to the adoption and sign papers in person or you can’t take them home.”
The dark-haired girl sighed. “Shoot. I guess I can’t adopt him, then.”
“You’re still welcome to visit the animal sanctuary whenever you want, to hold the kittens and play with them. Everyone is welcome,” Madi said, her voice warm.
“That’s cool,” the girl with freckles exclaimed.
“Maybe we can go on Monday,” her friend said.
“Totally fine,” Madi answered. “We’re open to the public from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. Check in at the office first.”
Neither Sierra nor Madi noticed him as they took the kittens from the girls and returned them to cages.
Sierra was the first to spy him. “Hi, Dad,” she said with a grin.
“Hi, kiddo. How are things going here?”
“Good so far,” Madi answered for Sierra. “So far we’ve met with two families interested in adopting a dog and three who would like a cat. They’ve filled out our paperwork and I’ve scheduled home visits this week.”
“All before 10 a.m.?”
She grinned with her half smile and Luke had to fight the overwhelming urge to kiss her right there in the middle of the farmers market, in front of his daughter and two other volunteers.
“It’s an encouraging sign. I was hoping we could find homes for ten animals and we’re already halfway there. Assuming all the paperwork and the home visits check out.”
“Nice. Well, in recognition of all that hard work, I brought some of your grandmother’s muffins for you and your volunteers.”
“Oh yum. I’m starving,” Madi exclaimed. She scooped up a banana nut muffin and so did Sierra. The other two volunteers grabbed a blueberry muffin each, giving their thanks in return.
“How can I help?”
“Food is always a lifesaver,” Madi said. “Other than that, I guess just be available if anyone has questions.”
He was chatting with Ed Hyer and Ada Duncan when he spotted a familiar older woman approaching their stall with a determined expression.
As he expected, she moved straight in his direction. “Dr. Gentry. Hello. I thought I saw you earlier but you were several stalls away. By the time I had paid for my cucumbers, you were gone. I’m afraid I don’t move very quickly these days.”
“Hello, Mrs. Thompson. How are you?”
Miriam Thompson was eighty years old and had six cats and two bad-tempered dachshunds she pushed around the neighborhood in a baby stroller.
“I’m fine. But my little Booboo is under the weather again.”
Booboo was her female dachshund, he knew. The dog didn’t seem to like anyone, no matter how hard Luke tried to make friends. “What’s happening with her?”
“She’s not eating, and the other day, she bit me for no reason, right here, on my hand.”
She thrust her arm, covered in age spots and blue veins, into his face. A bandage covered the spot between her index finger and her thumb.
“Oh dear. Did she draw blood?”
“A bit. Not much. But you know I’m on that blood thinner medication, so it bled forever. I thought I was going to need a transfusion by the time it finally stopped.”
“I’m sorry about your bite and about Booboo feeling under the weather. Why don’t you call Monday morning and make an appointment? Tell Evelyn I’ll find room in my schedule, even if it’s packed.”
“Can’t you come over and take a look earlier than that? Your dad used to come to the house whenever I had a problem with one of my babies.”
His father had lived down the street from Miriam and watched out for her as he did most of his neighbors, who often only wanted someone to pay attention to them.
Luke apparently shared that unfortunate habit. “My schedule is full today but maybe I could come by tomorrow morning. Would ten work?”
“Oh, splendidly. Thank you, my dear.”
As she kissed his cheek, the scent of lavender and roses drifted from her, reminding him of his own grandmother.
With a satisfied smile, she toddled off.
“You are a soft touch, Dr. Gentry,” Madi murmured after Miriam had wandered away with cane in one hand and her bag of cucumbers in the other.
He had to laugh. “Says the woman who runs the largest no-kill animal rescue for miles around.”
“You mean the same no-kill animal rescue where you volunteer your services, free of charge?”
“Yes. That one.”
Despite his embarrassment, he smiled. She was right. He was a soft touch. He often reduced his charges for some pet owners on a fixed income and wrote off other charges. He never refused to provide necessary care to any animal because of the owners’ inability to pay.
“We’re quite a pair, aren’t we?” he said.
“Aren’t we?” she murmured with her half smile that made him want to kiss her again.
He was about to comment when he spotted a well-dressed woman with perfectly applied makeup walking toward them on heels that really had no place in a grassy park. She was followed by a bearded man holding a large video camera.
A sense of foreboding butted into him like Barnabas did when he was annoyed.
“Heads up,” he said, gesturing toward the approaching pair. “Looks like we might have some paparazzi.”
She followed his gaze and he saw her eyes widen with nerves. “Maybe they’re here to cover our adoption event.”
“It’s possible.”
While he would have liked to believe that, something in the determined set of features on the woman told him she wasn’t looking for a fluff piece about some dogs and cats finding new homes.
He walked out to try heading them off, but the woman targeted Madi.
“That’s her,” he heard the woman whisper to the camera operator. “It has to be.”
The woman pushed her way into the small space. “Hi. You’re Madison Howell, aren’t you?”
Madi gazed at her, apparently at a loss for how to answer.
Luke quickly stepped in. “Are you interested in the pet adoption event for the Emerald Creek Animal Rescue?” he asked, though he was fairly certain he already knew the answer. “We’ve got some really great dogs and cats available.”
The woman brushed back her dark curls with a manicured hand, the nails adorned with pale pink tips. “No. I’m Ashleigh Beaujolais with Nine News,” she said, as if he should know exactly who she was.
She turned to Madison, giving her a wide smile with teeth that gleamed in the summer sun. “We’re working on a story about your sister’s book, Ghost Lake, and reexamining the events that happened near here fifteen years ago. We would love to talk with you. Do you have a minute?”
“No,” Madi said bluntly.
Ashleigh Beaujolais looked nonplussed at her outright refusal. Her lush lips pursed in confusion and she exchanged looks with her cameraman.
“Okay. If now isn’t a good time, we could schedule something else. What about this afternoon, whenever you’re done here?”
“No,” Madi said, her voice firm. “I don’t have time now and I won’t have time later.”
“You’re a very important part of the story, Ms. Howell. We would love to get your perspective. I mean, not many people can talk about what it’s like to have a starring role in what’s been called the biggest book of the summer.”
Madi didn’t raise her voice, but her refusal was clear and unequivocal. “I am not interested in talking to you, Ms. Beaujolais. About the so-called book of the summer or about anything else. Excuse me.”
She turned away from the reporter to focus instead on a woman and a small boy who were looking at the puppies playing in an enclosure on the grass.
She even took a few steps in that direction but the reporter followed closely behind. Ashleigh Beaujolais did not strike Luke as the kind of woman who would give up at the first sign of difficulty. Unfortunately.
“Are you aware there are rumors that several celebrities are considering Ghost Lake as featured titles for their book clubs?” she pressed.
Now Madi turned to face her, eyes wide. “What celebrities? What book clubs?”
“I’m not at liberty to say,” Ashleigh said, her voice coy. “But that certainly wouldn’t hurt your sister’s book sales, would it? You must be happy about that.”
Madi’s jaw clenched. “You’re talking to the wrong person. You should find my sister. She’s working at a stall near the courthouse.”
Ashleigh made a face. “You don’t think we started there? She refused to talk to us until we submit a formal interview request through her publisher. I don’t suppose you could help us cut through the red tape, could you?”
Madi frowned. “I meant what I said. I don’t have time for this. I’m interested in helping rescued animals, not in talking about events that happened years ago. Excuse me. I need to go grab some more water for them.”
She picked up the two gallon containers and hurried away, doing her best, he could tell, not to limp.
Luke saw the reporter let out an annoyed breath and start to take off after her. He gave her a stony look and shook his head. She opened her red-painted mouth, then closed it again in frustration and went to confer with her camera operator.
After making sure the volunteers had things under control in the stall, he went after Madi, who had gone to a potable water spigot near the restrooms.
“I said I don’t want to talk to you,” she snapped, then whirled around, features furious. The hot expression faded when she spied Luke.
“Sorry. I thought you were that reporter. Is she gone?”
“Not yet. But I am pretty sure you made your point about not wanting to talk to her.”
She sighed as she finished filling up one jug and moved the other one under the spigot. “I would have been happy to talk to her about the rescue, how we’re trying to provide animals in need with a better life. But no. Why would anybody want to talk about that, the animals who need help now, when they can focus instead on something that happened years ago? It’s apparently much more interesting to talk about two girls stranded in the wilderness with a pack of deranged survivalists on their heels.”
She set down the water container and swiped at her eyes. The sight of her frustrated tears moved him beyond measure.
“I hate that Ava has put me in this position. I would rather forget any of it ever happened and move on with life. Instead, I’m being forced to think about it every single day. I feel like it will never, ever end.”
“I’m sorry.”
She sighed. “What celebrities want to feature it in their book clubs, do you think?”
“I don’t know that it matters. The point is that the story you don’t want to think about has touched something in the public consciousness. I’m afraid you won’t be able to avoid talking about it forever.”
“Nobody can force me to do an interview.” She studied him. “What about you? You and your family are part of this story, too. Why don’t you have reporters knocking down your door?”
He decided not to mention that he and his family already had fielded media requests and were discussing how to handle them. As he had said to Madi, he knew they would eventually have to talk to someone. Interest was too high right now and it was better to take control of the narrative rather than letting others speak for them. He and his siblings and his mother were trying to figure out their best options.
He should have known Madi would be able to interpret his silence correctly. “You have had reporters knocking down your door.”
“We’ve had a few phone calls. Not the same thing. We’re considering how best to handle the media interest.”
“Doesn’t it bother you to have strangers like Ashleigh Beaujolais digging into your past?”
“Our part in the whole thing was very small.”
“Small?” Her voice rose. “You saved our lives. You threw your body over mine when bullets started flying. Your father sacrificed his life for us. I wouldn’t call that small. I can never repay you and your family for that. You saved us. I don’t want to think about where we might be today if we hadn’t stumbled onto your campsite.”
He couldn’t help it. He reached for her hand, tracing his thumb over her small, curled fingers.
“My dad might have helped rescue you and Ava from the dire situation you were in. But both of you are responsible for how you have survived and thrived since then.”
Her gaze met his, eyes wide and unblinking.
“I believe that’s a big part of the story that resonates with people. Your strength and integrity. Others might have withdrawn from the world. Become angry and bitter at all they had lost. Instead, you are the most generous, loving, giving person I have ever known.”
Her fingers flexed in his and he curled his own bigger hand over hers and brought her hand to his mouth. “I respect you for not wanting to live in the past, Madi. But I hope you can also acknowledge how that past has shaped you, forged you. It’s given you a strength of will the rest of the world can’t help but admire.”
28
The last page turns, but the story of our survival is far from over.
—Ghost Lake by Ava Howell Brooks
Madison
Luke’s words seemed to wrap around her, warm and sweet and somehow...healing.
She gazed at him, quite sure all the tenderness she had been fighting for him was clear in her eyes.
He looked down at her, then with a sigh, as if surrendering to the inevitable, he leaned down and kissed her.
Oh. She had been dreaming of this for weeks, since the last time he had kissed her. It was even better than she remembered. He tasted of blueberries and sugar and she wanted to taste every inch of his mouth.
She forgot where they were. The crowded park, the busy market. She forgot that both of them were supposed to be helping at the adoption event.
All that mattered was this, right now, being here in his arms, his mouth sliding over hers, tasting and exploring with a tenderness that took her breath away.
She was in love with Luke Gentry.
The truth of it seemed to wash over her as if someone had dumped the two gallons of water on her head.
She loved him. She had probably loved him since that afternoon he had risked his life for hers.
Even after he married someone else, had a child, lost his wife, some part of Madi’s heart had always belonged to Luke. What had begun years ago as friendship—with a healthy dose of hero worship mixed in—had shifted over the years to something else.
What was she supposed to do now? She had absolutely no experience with being in love. All she could think about was tightening her hold around his neck and not letting go.
