RECLAIM MY HEART(63)

“Zachary!”
“All that land. The pool house is set up like an apartment, Mom. Did you see it? Someone could move right in there. There was a refrigerator, and a TV, and, like, everything you’d need.” Her son reached up and tapped Lucas on the shoulder. “And, Dad, I sneaked a look in the garage. They’ve got a Hummer. How cool is that? A Hummer!”
Tyne’s lips parted and she sucked in a quick, silent breath. Not because her parents owned some exorbitant, gargantuan vehicle, but because her son had called Lucas Dad. The word had rolled right off his tongue. Lucas, however, barely seemed to notice. It was as if her son had always addressed Lucas with the affectionate moniker.
“Zach,” he said, glancing once again into the rearview mirror, “possessions don’t say much about a man. What matters is who he is.”
Something between a grin and a smirk twisted Zach’s lips as he gave the window of the BMW three sharp raps. “I’d say you like possessions just as much as Granddad does.”
Tyne saw the muscle in Lucas’s jaw tense.
“Money can’t buy happiness, Zach,” she told her son.
“Your mother is right.” Lucas’s gaze remained on the roadway ahead. “I don’t mind admitting that I lost my way. It’s really hard to live in today’s world with all its modern technology—wristwatches with GPS, cell phones that call you by name, electronic tablets almost as thin as a sheet of paper, you name it—where ‘he who has the most toys wins.’ Hell, it’s almost impossible not to get caught up in all that grabbing, snatching, and wanting. I don’t mind saying I got my priorities screwed up.” He braked the car at a four way stop, the headlights of the car facing them lighting up his face. “Got them screwed up big time.” His gaze darted to the rearview mirror, obviously wanting to connect with Zach. “I’m sure my uncle is ashamed of what I’ve become. I’m one of them. Someone looking for acceptance, someone hell-bent on acquiring the respect and esteem of others by buying condos and cars and building an impressive bank account.”
When the road was clear, Lucas drove slowl as ecty through the intersection.
“Don’t be mad at me.” Zach’s head drooped forward. “I was only pointing out that your BMW was pretty sweet.”
“I’m not angry with you.” Lucas accelerated along the country road toward home. His sigh was loud and long. “And your point is well taken. I’m the last person who should be lecturing you about not letting possessions possess you.”
“Guys,” Tyne said cheerfully, striving to lift the sudden drop in the mood, “we had such a great evening. Let’s not ruin it.”
However, the last few miles to Wikweko were made in total silence.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The coral light of pre-dawn steadily swept away the darkness as it ushered in Friday morning. Lucas had slept fitfully, awakened at least half a dozen times by crazy dreams. In the last one, a woman dressed in Amish garb hoisted herself up into a gleaming, tank-sized SUV, and stomped on the gas pedal, rutting his front lawn with perfect donuts.
He kicked the twisted sheet aside and sat on the edge of the bed. He reached his hands high and stretched his torso, thoughts of his mother wavering through his foggy mind.
What would his life have been like had she been the one who had raised him?
First and foremost, he would have had a mother. He would know what kind of person she was rather than spending all these years wondering.
She’d have cooked his meals, hugged away his hurts, read him bedtime stories, tucked him in at night. It’s impossible to say just how a mother’s love might have changed who he’d turned out to be.
The carpet muffled his steps as he padded to the window.
The Yoder house had had no electric lines attached to it that Lucas remembered. That would have meant no TV, no refrigerator, no radio, no lamps, no electronic toys. But primitive living never killed anyone, and he wouldn’t have missed what he’d never known. He would have spent a lot of time outdoors, and he surely would have learned to work with his hands. Probably farming or carpentry or some other trade.
He’d have had a simple, wholesome life. Not too unlike his adolescence here at Wikweko.
Of course, there would have been no high school. Everyone in the area knew the Amish educated their kids only to the eighth grade. No high school would have been fine with him in some respects; teens could be cruel and tended to close ranks against anyone who looked the least bit different. But that would have also meant there would have been no football games. And without football, he’d have never made that great play—the one that had compelled Tyne to approach him with the compliment that had initiated their relationship.
He smiled, hardly noticing the glorious pink clouds streaking across the blue-gray sky.
His life had been changed by the sweet and innocent girl she’d been. Because of her, he’d discovered parts of himself he had never known existed. She’d taught him to love, to care about someone more than he did himself.
Then there was Zach. His smile broadened. The kid was great. Yes, he had some issues, but who went through their teen years unscathed by some kind of trouble? He sure hadn’t. Problems aside, Zach had a good heart. And he was damn smart. Clever enough to quickly figure out that Lucas and Richard Whitlock weren’t all that different, and assertive enough to voice the opinion. Lucas shook his head, remembering how his son had called him out on the drive home last night. Zach had the kind of common sense and intuition that would take him far in this world; as far as he wanted to go.