RECLAIM MY HEART(17)

Only a teen could make seventy two hours sound like a lifetime.
“Silver Hawk. I get it now,” Zach told Jasper, nodding. “The sign outside above the door.”
Tyne looked at Lucas, silently urging him to say something.
“He’s a fine looking young man, Tyne,” Jasper said. “Tall and strong.”
Lucas edged up beside Zach and clamped his hand on his son’s shouldtrun’s ser. “He looks like his old man, don’t you think?”
Jasper went still, and then he beamed. He hugged Zach to him and clapped Lucas on the back. He looked from Zach to Lucas to Tyne and finally pronounced, “This is good.”
Everyone was smiling and jovial, enjoying the moment, until it turned fuzzy and warm and uncomfortable. Tyne and Lucas caught one another’s eye, and their smiles slipped. In unison, they inched backward, stepping out of the cozy family circle.
“Did you carve the eagle?” Zach asked Jasper, seemingly oblivious to his parents’ uneasiness.
“I did.”
“It’s, like, amazing.”
Tyne followed her son and Jasper to the window to admire the sculpture and stood long enough to learn that the carving was made from the trunk of a black walnut tree that had been felled by a lightning strike, that a chisel and mallet had been the tools of choice and that it had taken months for the figure to take form. Lucas kept himself separate, studying the paintings displayed on the far wall of the shop.
The bold colors used in the landscapes were at the same time jarring and intriguing, teasing the observer into a closer look. And Tyne fell victim.
One painting in particular, with its orange sunset and sienna trees, drew her. “It’s beautiful,” she murmured to Lucas. “They’re all beautiful. Really unique, you know?” She didn’t expect an answer. “I remember when we were teens that Jasper painted, but I never realized he had such talent.”
“Neither did I,” Lucas said quietly.
“Guess we didn’t pay enough attention.”
He lifted one shoulder. “Guess not.”
They stood for several long moments looking at each other, and then they focused their attention on the art. Every time she even considered talking to him she hit this solid stone wall. She didn’t know if she’d built it or if he had. Oh, hell. She ought to be mature enough to admit the truth.
For the past sixteen years she’d done all she could to foster her independence. Knowing that she’d pretty much made her own way over the years and had raised Zach by herself offered her a deep sense of satisfaction. She’d thought she’d risen above the past. Thought it could no longer affect her. But every time she looked at Lucas, every time she tried to communicate with him, she was reminded of the stark truth.
The unhappy adolescent she had once been continued to haunt her. The passionate teenager who had surrendered herself—mind and body, heart and soul—to Lucas still lived deep inside. The young woman who had been forced to leave town in disgrace was coming out of hiding. She thought she’d dealt with all the hurts, bandaged all the wounds that had been inflicted on her so many years ago. But merely being in Lucas’s presence forced her to see that, beneath the makeshift dressings, she was still raw and aching. Bitter. And furious.
“Zach and I will be right back.”
Tyne and Lucas turned at the sound of Jasper’s voice.
Jasper stood with Zach at the threshold of the hallway that led to the back of the shop.
“We’re going upstairs for some goldenseal salve,” Jasper said. “For Zach’s blisters.”
Lucas straightened. “I found the bow you made for me at the house.”
Jasper nodded.
“I heard that you used to win the archery competition at every pow-wow,” Zach said to Jasper. “Will you shoot with us one day while we’re here?”
“I am out of practice.” The elderly man directed his keen black gaze at Lucas. “There haven’t been archery competitions for years.”
“What?” Lucas’s head tilted the tiniest bit. “But why?”
Jasper lifted one hand, palm out, fingers splayene ngers sd. “Lack of interest.” He glanced at Zach. “Come with me. I want to put some salve on those fingers so they don’t get infected.”
The two of them disappeared down the hall.
“Hold on just one darn second here,” Tyne said. “Just a few minutes ago you were bragging to me about how Wikweko has grown. ‘We have our own post office,’ you said. ‘We have a newspaper.’ We.” She emphasized the pronoun with a small, derisive wobble of her head. “You talked like you share some kind of kindred spirit with these people, this community. But it sounds like you haven’t been back, Lucas. How long has it been? You haven’t even come home for pow-wows? That’s a big deal to the people here. I know it is.”
She waited for him to answer, and when he didn’t, she let loose a sharp sigh. “Admit it. You share about as much spirit with Wikweko as I do.”
“I care enough to subscribe to the paper.” He leaned his hip against a display case. “So I can read up on what’s happening. I don’t think you have any right to give me grief. Your son didn’t even know you were born and raised here.”
She chose to ignore that comment completely. “Why haven’t you been back, Lucas? You and Jasper were as close as father and son. What happened?”
He studied her face for a moment. Finally, he said. “Nothing happened, Tyne.”
Sunlight drilled through the window behind her, heating the spot directly between her shoulder blades. “I don’t believe that. I saw the two of you together. Awkward doesn’t begin to describe what I saw when the two of you greeted each other.”