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  Luke’s Fate

  Kathleen Ball

  Copyright © 2018 by Kathleen Ball

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  I dedicate this book to Merriedth Province and to Bruce, Steven, Colt and Clara because I love them.

  Contents

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  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  The End

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  Callie’s Heart

  About the Author

  Other Books by Kathleen

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  Chapter One

  Meg O’Brien slowed her quarter horse, Merry. Her smile quickly turned into a frown as she spotted the ranch hands huddled together. Puzzled, she spurred Merry onto the barn, slid out of her saddle, and hurried toward the men.

  They glanced at her and nodded but each briskly turned away. Unusual for them; she’d never had a problem with any of the hands since she started running the ranch.

  “What’s going on?”

  They shuffled their feet and kept their gazes on the ground.

  She stared at the youngest hand, Ron. He was about seventeen, near as she could tell, and scrawny with dark hair and eyes. He’d spill the beans. He seemed to sense that he was in her sites, and he glanced up. His eyes widened before he looked away.

  “Ron, what’s going on around here?”

  Ron tipped his sweat-stained Stetson at her and smiled. “We have ourselves a guest.”

  Running out of patience, she touched Greg’s arm. He’d been her right hand from the start. His blue eyes searched hers. He had a nasty scar on his face, but she hardly noticed it anymore. “Tell me.”

  “Kelly’s here. He’s in the bunkhouse.”

  Her heart beat faster, and a lump grew in her throat. “Luke Kelly?”

  Greg nodded and gave her a sympathetic smile.

  Taking a deep breath, Meg turned toward the weathered bunkhouse, took two steps and stopped. Why was he here? She’d banked on never seeing him again.

  For five years, she’d avoided serious relationships, and she didn’t need Luke now. The back of her throat ached, and she swallowed hard. It was foolish to think he was back for her. He had no interest in her, because if he had, he would have never left.

  She walked on, hardening her heart. She was the foreman, and that saddle bum was not going to hang his hat in her bunkhouse. Who did he think he was anyway?

  The door creaked loudly as she opened it.

  “Dad, what’s going on?” Her dad had always been her rock, but age and a heart attack had slowed him down. It had taken a lot to persuade him to make her foreman, but she had prevailed.

  “Luke is going to stay with us for a while.”

  She didn’t like the worry reflected in his weary eyes. Slowly, she turned to where Luke sat and suppressed a gasp. Her big, hunky hero was a ghost of his former self, and the gauntness of his face was just the beginning. His blue eyes lacked emotion. He hadn’t shaved, and his dark beard was long and unkempt. His usual tight fitting clothes hung on him.

  “Luke?” she whispered.

  He glanced at her, gave her a semblance of a smile, and then turned away.

  “Dad?”

  “Luke has run into some hard times, and I offered to let him stay here.”

  The air seemed to grow heavy and it became difficult to breathe, and her stomach churned. She couldn’t see him every day, she just couldn’t. “Stay here?”

  “Yes, honey, for as long as he needs.”

  She felt for Luke, but he couldn’t stay. She’d lose her sanity and her heart for sure if he remained.

  Meg stepped outside for some fresh air and sat on the top step of the wrap around porch, staring at the bunkhouse. Nerves had her clasping and unclasping her hands. She needed her father to come out and explain. What the hell had happened to Luke? She couldn’t remember seeing anyone look so bad. He appeared lost and, oh God, maybe he was sick or dying. That would explain his gauntness. Of course, he’d want to come home.

  Well, as close to home as he could get. His dad had sold her father the land, he’d sold the house to a young family with a slew of kids, and then he had moved into a retirement home not too far away. Did Harry Kelly even know his boy was home?

  Her father slowly ambled across the yard. She couldn’t wait so she stood and ran to him. “Dad, is he sick? Is he dying?”

  “Whoa, Margaret Mary, he’ll heal eventually.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  He took her hand and led her to the porch. “Here sit. Luke has had a hard time of it lately, and he came here to get his head straight.”

  “The truth, Dad, Luke looks like he’s been through hell and back.”

  She sat on the edge of the old wooden chair, and her father gave her a sad smile. “He has, and it’s up to us to give him room to regain himself.”

  “You’re not going to tell me, are you?” Meg stood, put her hands on her hips, and stared at her father.

  “Honey, it’s not my story to tell. Besides, I gave him my word.”

  “Well, I guess that’s it, then.” A man’s word was a powerful thing.

  He smiled. “I knew you’d understand. Now, could you make him something to eat? Something light on the stomach?”

  Meg pulled the screen door open. “Sure, Dad.”

  She headed into the big kitchen and pulled out all the ingredients to make beef soup. She worked quickly, trying to keep her mind focused on the soup, but all she could think about was the last time she’d seen Luke. He’d taken her dancing, and it was such a magical time. At the end of the night, he had walked her to the door, kissed her goodnight, and held her as though he didn’t want to leave. It was only a few kisses actually, and foolishly, she’d thought he felt something for her. She’d been in love with him since forever but never had the nerve to let it show.

  She went to bed that night thinking they were starting a relationship. She’d been so happy and full of dreams. Senseless dreams, she reminded herself. She shook her head at her stupidity.

  The next day she waited for him to call or drop over. Her heart ached as the hours went by. A few days later, she went to town to see some friends and she heard that Luke had left town. He’d left right after their date. To her shame, she cried in front of her friends and became an object of ridicule and pity.

  Never again. She’d never allow her heart to be ripped out like that again, and she’d never show her feelings to anyone. It was easier to be alone.

  The soup was ready, and she ladled some into a bowl. A shiver raced through her at the thought of bringing it to him. Gathering her courage, she headed toward the bunkhouse.

  But when she got there, he was sound asleep. Meg put the soup and bread on the old wooden table in the dining area and watched Luke sleep. His breathing seemed erratic to her, causing concern. Her gaze traveled his body. Just as she thought, he’d lost most of his bulk. Sighing, she wondered what happened. He used to be into fitness.

  Her father said that Luke would heal. Maybe he’d been in some sort of accident. Could be a horse threw him. She didn’t understan
d the getting his head on straight part. Her heart cried out to sit on the side of the bunk and caress his thin face. Even with his awful beard, she wanted to touch him.

  Her stomach coiled in sudden need, and she jolted back to reality. There would be no touching, ever.

  Luke stirred and opened his weary eyes. His eyes widened, filled with warmth, and then all emotion faded. The light faded from his eyes. “Looking good, Margaret Mary. Your eyes are still the bluest, and your hair is still the same sable color. It’s nice to know some things never change.”

  She blinked hard at the gruffness of his voice. “Do you want to get up to eat or do you want to eat in your bunk?”

  “I’ll get up.”

  He struggled to sit, and when he swung his feet to the floor he swayed as though he was going to faint. As he started to rise, she raced to his side putting her arm around his waist. The jolt of emotion that flew through her made her cringe. He still had it, the ability to make her forget herself.

  “Thanks.” He gave her a weak smile.

  It wasn’t easy, but she helped him to the table and sat him in a chair. Whatever had happened was his own doing, she reminded herself. He was the one who had left.

  “The soup is good, Marg—”

  “Meg…you know my name is Meg.”

  “Still easy to rile, Meg. I’m glad I’m here.”

  “Well, if you don’t need me for anything else, I have a ranch to run.”

  “You’ve changed. You used to smile all the time. I’ve yet to see one.”

  “You’re right, I have changed. I’ll send Ron in to help you get back to bed.” Before he could reply, she fled. Resting her back against the outside of the barn, she took a deep breath. She’d wanted to scream at him and tell him he was the reason she didn’t smile, but she had her pride.

  Men weren’t necessities. Not for her. As long as he stayed out of her way… Oh hell, who was she kidding? He was as helpless as a motherless calf. It galled her that she’d end up being the mother. Mother would be better than girlfriend or wife. A mother wouldn’t have the longings she had for that man.

  She had a ranch to run anyway. She didn’t have time for love or for Luke. The ranch hands could help him back on his feet.

  But why wouldn’t her heart forget him? The dull ache she felt daily was now a sharp, throbbing pain.

  Luke sighed as he watched Meg leave, and regret instantly filled his heart. She was lovely. He’d thought about her, more often than not, the last five years. His father had a loathing for all things O’Brien, and he knew he was playing with fire when he’d asked her for a date. He’d known there would be consequences.

  “Consequences be damned,” he mumbled as he shoved the bowl of soup away.

  So much had changed. His father had sold the ranch, but that wasn’t such a surprise. The surprise was he sold it to the O’Briens. The irony of the situation wasn’t lost on Luke. He shuddered. He was damned, all right.

  His biggest regret was Meg’s lost smile. He’d done that to her. Unfortunately, he wouldn’t get a chance to make her smile. He needed to leave as soon as he was able.

  “I’ve heard about you.” Ron walked into the bunkhouse, sat at the beat up table and stared at him.

  “No surprise there.”

  “Were you really the best mustang trainer around?”

  He glared at Ron’s eager face and nodded. “I was. A long time ago.”

  “What happened? Why’d you leave? Hell, Miss Meg won’t even let me near your mustangs, and they’re some beauts.”

  Luke’s body stiffened, his mind whirled, and his heart beat faster. “My mustangs are here?”

  “Sure are!”

  He closed his eyes, letting out a deep breath. He’d been worried about those horses. He figured his father had gotten rid of them. A slight smile played across his lips. His Meg had them.

  “Miss Meg is the foreman now?”

  Ron turned red and nodded.

  “I sure am the foreman.” Meg stood in the doorway with her hands on her hips.

  Ron grinned as he stared at her.

  “Ron, I need you to go check on the new foals, watch them for a bit and make sure they’re feeding.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Ron almost tripped over his feet in his excitement to do Meg’s bidding.

  “Nice kid.” Luke took a moment to admire Meg. She’d filled out in all the right places. The only bit of femininity she had was her long, brown hair; otherwise, she dressed like the other cowboys. She appeared hard and cold. She probably had to be to keep the men in line, but it didn’t suit her. He remembered pink was her favorite color, and her shirts were usually adorned with some type of flower. Now she was colorless.

  “Yes, he’s a good worker.” Her gaze wandered, coming to rest on everything in the bunkhouse except him.

  “He told me about the mustangs, Meg. I know you have them.”

  She shrugged her shoulders. “I bought them after you—well, after you left.”

  Her sadness enveloped him. What could he say to make things better? “Meg, I’m—”

  She turned toward him and put her hand up with her palm facing him. “Stop, I don’t want to hear anymore. I don’t care why you left. Let’s just leave it at that. Greg will be in to help you clean up a bit.”

  Once again, he watched her leave, and he frowned. Her walk was different, and her hips didn’t sway anymore. That sway used to... There was no sense in thinking how things used to be.

  Luke pushed away from the table, each muscle groaned in protest. He was stronger than before but still as helpless as a kitten. If Meg thought he was bad off now, she should have seen him… It was better this way. Funny how their roles had reversed, he’d been the strong one, and she’d been the sweetest little gal.

  He shuffled his feet until he got to his bunk, and a moan escaped as he lowered himself down. Vertigo got to him, and he swayed slightly before he lay back. Tomorrow would be a good day to try to make it outside. The need to feel the wind on his face grew stronger every day.

  He covered his eyes with his forearm. What did Meg see when she looked at him? Probably a man to be pitied, and she didn’t even know the whole story. He’d been right to ask her dad, Owen, not to discuss his situation.

  He shifted on the bunk, his moan echoed through the bunkhouse. My body is stronger than yesterday and the day before. It was a constant litany to get him through the day. He’d heal, at least his body would. It was the loved ones who’d died in the car crash that haunted him. He shuddered and a lone tear trailed down his face. The weight of the world was on his shoulders, a weight he deserved to bear.

  Choices had ramifications, and it was something he’d always known, but not to the extent where lives changed irrevocably. Sure accidents happened and the one that killed his wife, Mary and his daughter, Jill was like many others. It was raining in Texas and the roads were slick. He was taking Mary and Jill to the ballet. They’d been so excited to see The Nutcracker. Luke smiled at the memory. His girls had worn matching red dresses for the occasion.

  “Earth to, Luke.”

  He jumped at the sound of Ron’s voice. “You startled me.”

  “Heck, I’ve been here for a minute or two jawing at you before I noticed you weren’t listening to me.” Ron laughed. “Miss Meg had me bring you some dinner.”

  Luke closed his eyes trying to put the past away. “That was good of you. Don’t you and Greg eat here too?”

  “Heck no, we eat at the house. Greg and me are batching it. The others all have homes to go to.”

  “I bet the O’Briens had to hire more men to work both spreads.”

  Ron nodded. “Here, let me help you to the table.” He put his arm around Luke’s back and helped him up.

  Dizziness caused Luke to sway.

  “Look man, I can bring the food to you.”

  “No, the more I get around the better. I just get dizzy at times, is all.”

  “To tell you the truth, you look like you got the wrong end of a
bucking bull.”

  “I’m getting better and better. I plan to be able to go see my mustangs by the end of the week.” Luke glanced up and spotted Meg leaning against the doorframe.

  “They’re my mustangs now. Just remember that.” She spun on her boot heel and walked out the door.

  “She sure is pretty when she’s all riled up,” Ron commented.

  Luke shook his head. She had spirit, and whether she knew it or not, she’d just thrown down a challenge. He was going to ride his mustangs again, and he wasn’t leaving until he did.

  Damn! Ever since she told him that this was a working ranch, Luke was everywhere. A week ago, she’d waltzed into the bunkhouse and shoved a broom in his hand, telling him to earn his keep. At least she’d gotten a startled reaction from him. There was actually a bit of fire in his blue eyes as he took the broom from her.

  Meg sighed and turned back to Merry. The love she had for her horse was deep. Besides her father, her love only went to her animals. She’d hardened the last few years, and now she didn’t know any other way to be.

  After she thrust the broom at Luke, she left the bunkhouse horrified by her actions. She’d never been cruel before. Now it appeared that she had done him a favor. Dad had said Luke was healing quickly, and his strength was coming back.

  Glancing his way, she bristled as he smiled and waved. What was she going to do with him? He leaned against the ancient, wooden wall of the bunkhouse with his brown Stetson lowered over his eyes. His face was smooth; he really must be getting better if he’d found the strength to shave.

  Her heart thumped, not from love, surely not from love. It was probably from fear. Meg turned back and finished saddling Merry. She didn’t allow fear in her life, no it must be thumping due to worry or something.