A Country Affair(99)

“I’m still asking.”

Kate dropped her gaze. “You’ve been right about so much. I do need you. I guess I was waiting for you to admit you needed me, only you never did.”

Luke rubbed a hand over his face. “Not need you?” he repeated, his voice filled with shock and wonder. “I think my life would be an empty shell without you, Kate. I couldn’t bear the thought of living one day to the next if you weren’t at my side to share everything with me—all the good things that are in store for us. I’ve waited so long, Kate.”

“You do love me, don’t you?” she whispered.

For a long, long moment Luke said nothing. “I tried not to. For years I stood by helplessly, watching you break out in hives with excitement every time you saw Clay Franklin. I realized it was a schoolgirl crush, but you never seemed to get over him. Instead of improving, things got worse. How could I let you know how I felt?”

“Couldn’t you have said something? Anything?”

A flicker of pain crossed his face. “No. You were so infatuated with Clay I didn’t dare. It wouldn’t have done any good—although God only knows how you managed not to figure it out yourself. The first day Rorie met me, she guessed.”

“Rorie knew all along?”

Luke shook his head in bewildered amusement. “We were quite a pair a few months back—Rorie in love with Clay and me crazy about you. All this time, I thought I’d kept my feelings secret, and then I discovered everyone in town knew.”

“Beth Hammond didn’t.”

“No, but she should have. I’ve never wanted anyone but you, Kate Logan. I haven’t for years. Somehow I always kept hoping you’d see the light.”

“Oh, Luke.” She took a step toward him, her eyes full of emotion. “Are you going to stand way over there on the other side of the room?”

For every step Kate took, Luke managed three. When they reached each other, she put her arms around his waist, hugging him tight. She felt the beating of his heart and closed her eyes, succumbing to the wave of love that seemed about to overwhelm her.

Luke’s hand was gentle on her hair. “Do you love me, Kate?”

She couldn’t speak, so she nodded her head wildly. Her hands framed his face and she spread light, eager kisses over his mouth and nose and eyes, letting her lips explain what was in her heart.

“I love you,” he whispered. “If you marry me, I promise I’ll do everything I can to make you happy.” His eyes shone with delight and a kind of humility that touched Kate’s very soul. Gone was the remoteness he’d displayed so often these past few weeks.

“Oh, Luke, I can hardly wait to be your wife,” she said. “Didn’t you say something about a December wedding?”

“Kate, that’s only a few weeks from now.”

“Yes, I know. But Christmas is such a lovely time of year for a wedding. We’ll decorate the church with holly, and all the bridesmaids will wear long red dresses....”

“Kate, you mean it, don’t you?” His voice was low and husky.

“I’ve never meant anything more. I love you, Luke Rivers. We’re going to have a wonderful life together.”

He kissed her then, with a hunger that spoke of his years of longing. Dragging his mouth from hers, he buried it in the curve of her neck.

“I want children, Kate. I want to fill this home with so much love that the walls threaten to burst with it.”

For a breathless moment, they did nothing more than gaze at each other as they shared that dream.

Kate smiled up at him, and as her hands mapped his face, loving each strong feature, she was astonished at how easily this happiness had come to her once she’d let go of her pride.

Luke’s mouth settled on hers, his kiss almost reverent, as though he couldn’t yet believe she was in his home and eager to be his wife.

As Kate wrapped her arms around his neck, her glance fell on the calendar. She seemed to recall that Pastor Wilkins had placed a sizeable wager on the fifteenth of December. That sounded good to Kate.

Very good indeed.



Epilogue


The sun shone clear and bright in the late-July afternoon, two years after Rorie Campbell’s car had broken down near Nightingale. Kate was making a fresh pitcher of iced tea when Rorie knocked on the back door.

“Come on in,” Kate called. “The screen door’s unlocked.”

A moment later Rorie entered the kitchen, looking slightly frazzled. “How did your afternoon at the library go?” Kate asked, as she added ice cubes to the tall pitcher.

“Very well, thanks.”

“Katherine’s still sleeping,” Kate told her.

Rorie’s eyes softened as she gazed out at the newly constructed patio where her baby slept under the shade of the huge oak tree.

“It was such a lovely afternoon I kept her outside.” Kate wiped her hands dry. She poured them each a glass of iced tea, and carried a tray of tea and cookies onto the patio.

The nine-month-old infant stirred when Rorie stood over the portable crib and protectively placed her hand on the sleeping baby’s back. When she turned, her eyes fell on Kate’s protruding abdomen. “How are you feeling?”

“Like a blimp.” Kate’s hands rested on her swollen stomach. “The doctor told me it’ll probably be another two weeks.”