Chapter 29 – Luke
LUKE
From the moment we drive through the gates, Locke Ranch feels like Eden.
It's not just that the prairie grass is the same dark gold as her hair. It’s the calm openness of the place, the peaceful brush of the wind, tempered by the underlying wildness of the uncultivated grass.
Eden might thrive in the city, but of course this is where she came from.
I drive the Corvette along the winding road to the farmhouse.
It’s an old wooden two-story house with a wraparound porch.
It’s been freshly painted ivory, with the shutters and front door in a matching forest green.
Well-tended flower beds line the porch. The driveway holds three large pickup trucks—black, gray, and red. Eden sighs when she sees them.
“That means my brothers are home,” she says. “Hopefully, they’re still tied up with work.”
As we get closer, I can see a woman sitting on a swing on the front porch, obviously Eden’s mother. She has the same dark blonde hair and long frame. She waves as I park next to the black truck.
Eden shoves her door open practically before I even put the car in park. She rushes up to her mother and envelops her in a hug. Figuring she’s not in a hurry to get our suitcases from the back, I turn the car off and join them.
Mrs. Locke’s pale hazel eyes take me in from head to toe, and I wonder whether I’m dressed appropriately in my white henley and dark jeans.
“Luke, this is my mom. Mom, this is Luke Windsor.”
“It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Locke.” I extend my hand to shake hers, but she scoffs and gets shakily to her feet before giving me a hug instead.
“Please,” she says. “Call me Rose.”
“Thanks for having us. Eden talks so much about this place, it’s exciting to finally see it in person.”
Rose grabs the swing’s wooden frame for support as she slowly lowers herself back down. Eden frowns. “Mom, where’s your chair?”
Rose waves her hand dismissively. “It’s inside. I didn't need to use it today.”
“We’ve talked about this. Even when you're feeling good, you need to use the chair. It keeps you from tiring yourself out and having a flareup and—”
“I'm thirsty,” Rose says, interrupting her. “Why don't you go inside and make Luke and I some tea?”
Eden opens her mouth and closes it again, obviously struggling not to keep arguing. “Fine,” she says finally, walking inside and leaving us alone.
Rose pats the seat on the swing next to her. “Please, sit.”
“Thanks.” The swing creaks under my weight, a reminder of how much lighter Eden’s mom is than me. “The view here is beautiful.”
“Yes,” she says proudly. “Obviously, that's the old barn house in front of us. If you look out in the distance, you can see the industrial barn. That's where we keep the cattle and the horses. I'm sure Eden and the boys will take you out there later.”
“How many animals do you have?”
“We have thirty head of cattle and nine horses at the moment.
I know you were talking to Wade about our grain, so I'm sure you know that much more of our business is in farming than in ranching now, but we were more of a livestock farm when Eden was growing up. Do you have much experience with horses?”
“No,” I admit. “I'm a city boy. I hope that doesn't count against me.”
“Of course not, darlin’. I was just wondering if we had any horses you could ride. Rainbow Sprinkles might be able to hold your weight.”
I raise my brows. “Rainbow Sprinkles?”
“Cute name, isn’t it? Eden named him when she was about nine. Wade and Jasper fought her on it, but Reed took her side, and it stuck.”
“Rainbow Sprinkles must be very secure in his masculinity.”
“He is. He's the biggest stallion we have, but he's gentle as a lamb. Perfect for a nervous rider.”
“Who says I’d be nervous?” I joke.
“Oh, you will be, once you meet Rainbow Sprinkles. He looks like he could stomp you in half.”
“I’ll admit, I’m probably more afraid of Eden’s brothers than I am of a horse.”
“Let me tell you a secret.” She leans close to me. “They’re more scared of you than you are of them. Scared you’ll steal their little sister off to the big city and break her heart.”
“Eden went off to the city all on her own,” I clarify. “She came to start a business. I had nothing to do with that.”
“That’s true, even if the boys won’t admit it.” Rose meets my eyes. “But you could still break her heart.”
I pause for a beat. She looks so serious that I’m tempted to tell her the truth, that Eden and I aren’t really dating and she’s in no danger of having her heart broken.
Except I’m not so sure that's true. The line between real and fake has gotten so blurred, it’s possible that I’m not the only one who will be miserable on June 6.
The door opens, and Eden emerges with three steaming mugs on a tray. She hands one to Rose, and then to me. It smells like lemon and honey.
“What were you two chatting about?” she asks, leaning against the bannister.
“Rose was just telling me about your horse-naming ideas,” I say.
She groans. “She told you about Leonardo DiCapricorn?”
I bark out a laugh. “Oh, that’s new to me. I was talking about Rainbow Sprinkles.”
Eden’s face goes pink, and she puts a hand over her eyes. “In my defense, they let a nine-year-old name the horse. What did they expect?”
She looks so adorable, I wish I could capture this moment in my memory. Seeing her here, in her childhood home, she’s so natural and unguarded, and I know that I want her more than I’ve ever let myself want anything.
“We let her name the horses because she spent the most time with them,” Rose says.
“We never had to ask her to muck out the stalls.
She'd get up early and do it first thing in the morning, no complaints. She was a good observer, even then. She could tell how a horse would ride before she ever got on their backs.”
“Did she ever compete?” Some of the wealthier girls at my high school competed in dressage and horse jumping. It’s easy to imagine Eden urging a horse to leap over a fence.
“She tried a few competitions. She was excellent, but she told me she didn’t understand the point. She’d ask, ‘Why can’t we just ride at home?’”
“That makes sense.” I smile at Eden. “I’d guess you weren’t one for pageantry.”
“No. Racing around a track was much less fun than taking the horses out on the fields,” she says. “If there’s time, I’ll try to take you out on a ride.”
“Speaking of time, I should go inside and get supper started before the boys get back,” Rose says. “You should take my seat, Eden.”
“No, Mom,” Eden says as her mother tries to stand. “Let me get your chair.”
Rose waves that off. “I’m fine.”
Ignoring her, Eden rushes inside. Rose sighs.
“Eden’s overreacting,” she tells me. “I really am fine.”
She stumbles slightly, and I quickly grab her elbow for support. I realize with sudden clarity that she’s not skipping the wheelchair out of stubbornness. She doesn’t want to make me uncomfortable by seeming sick.
“I know you just met me, but I’d like it if you didn’t treat me like company,” I say. “If you’re tired or you need a minute, don’t worry about me. I’d rather you be comfortable.”
Rose meets my gaze, a calculating look on her face. “Did Eden tell you to say that?”
I shake my head. “No. I’m sorry if I’m overstepping.”
She takes my arm. “You’re not, Luke. That’s very kind of you. I think I can see what my daughter sees in you. Now, why don’t you help me inside?”
She lets me support her weight as she walks inside. It’s slow progress and she has a slight limp in her left leg, but I can tell that she’s stronger than she looks.
When Eden meets us with the chair, Rose sinks into it without argument. She wheels off to the kitchen, where a low table has clearly been set up for her to cook at.
“Luke, can you come in and grab that pot for me?” she calls, pointing at a rack of pots over the stove. I eagerly follow her in, feeling like I’ve passed a test I didn’t know I was taking.