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CHAPTER TWELVE

JOHN EVANS WENT into the palliative care unit the following afternoon. Emily scrubbed bathrooms, brought clothes in off the line and picked Sam up from camp as Luke and his sisters spoke to the doctor and care worker. She did not offer to go with Luke and he didn’t ask her. After his revelations of the night before, it seemed like an unspoken conclusion that he would handle things on his own. It felt as though they’d said all that could be said, and yet so much seemed left unspoken.

For three days Luke worked the farm, Emily fulfilled her housekeeping duties and Sam finished camp and played with Homer in the hot July evenings.

Each day tore into Emily’s heart a little more. She saw Luke struggling with emotions, the wear and tear showing in the lines on his face and the weary set to his shoulders, though he never complained. He never talked to her about it either, not after that last night when he’d been so open and honest and sharing. It was, she realized, all she was going to get from him. Whatever had been between them—for his part—had run its course. It wasn’t the same for her. Each bit of distance between them cut a little deeper. She was surer than ever that she had to go. It hurt too much to stay.

She waited until Sam was in bed one night before giving Luke her notice.

“Luke?”

He looked up from the magazine he was reading. A summer shower was falling and he’d turned on the lamp behind him, casting the room in a warm glow. It was so cozy here. So…right. But Luke didn’t love her, and she couldn’t survive staying without it. She wanted more. She needed more, deserved more…and so did Sam. If nothing else, Luke’s turning her away had made her realize that she was the marrying kind. Even after the disaster of her first marriage, she still believed in it. Still believed in two people making that commitment to each other. She knew now that her words to the contrary had only been a way to cover up the pain of failing the first time.

And she was not the one who had given up. She wasn’t the one who had walked away. No, it was all or nothing with her, even now. And she was asking more than Luke could give. No, it was time to cut her losses. Moving forward would be best for her and best for Sam.

“This isn’t going to work. I know I should give you more notice, but…” she swallowed and gathered her strength, forcing out the next words. “Sam and I are going to leave tomorrow. We’re going to my mom and dad’s in Regina.”

Luke’s face showed nothing, until she looked into his eyes. Steely blue, they met her gaze, and there was surprise and perhaps regret. But whatever his feelings, he shuttered them away again as he folded the cover back over the magazine and put it down. “I was afraid you were going to say that.”

For the briefest of moments, her heart surged, but the flare quickly died. He’d expected this. And there was nothing in either his words or his expression to tell her he was going to ask her to change her mind.

“Thank you for all you’ve done for us.” Oh, how awful that sounded. She pushed forward. “Working for you made me see that I’m good at this. I was looking for an office job and overlooked the job I’ve been doing for years. What you said about school…I’m going to look into childhood education. I love children and I think I’d be good at it.”

And if that meant surrounding herself with the children of others rather than her own, that was okay. She’d do the best she could and she would provide a good life for her son.

“You’ll be wonderful at it, Emily.” He offered her an encouraging smile. “You’re a wonderful mother. Kind and patient and firm.”

The words were the right ones, but the polite, friendly tone cut into her.

“Thank you.” She lifted her chin. “I realized I was overlooking my skills rather than c

apitalizing on them.”

His gaze settled on her warmly. “You’ve made such a difference here. Not just with what you do, but with your kindness and generosity.”

Her breath seemed stuck in her chest. Really, this polite veneer was killing her. She wanted to demand that he fight for her. That he tell her he hadn’t meant to slam the door on them so completely. Something to let her know that he cared, that they had a chance. But he said nothing. He was as determined as ever to keep her out.

“I need to finish packing. Excuse me, Luke.”

“I’ll write you a check for your wages.”

How could she take money? It seemed to cheapen what they’d had. And yet what did they have, really? Some feelings and a few kisses. She had to take the money. Not just because she needed it, but because if she refused he would know. He’d know that this had gone way beyond a business arrangement and into deeply personal territory, and she’d been hurt and humiliated enough.

“Thank you, Luke.”

He picked up his magazine again and Emily felt her tenuously held control shatter. Without saying another word, she left the room and went upstairs to pack her suitcase.

When her footsteps sounded on the stairs, Luke dropped the magazine and ran a rough hand over his face. Keeping up the pretense just now had damn near killed him. The last few days had been hell. Not just putting Dad in the palliative care unit, but wanting, needing Emily beside him and knowing he’d been the one to turn her away. What had he expected she’d do after his cold words? He’d thanked her and then flat-out told her they had no future. She’d answered him back in kind but he’d seen the hurt behind her eyes. He never should have hired her. Never should have kissed her. Definitely never should have fallen in love with her. She made him want things he couldn’t have—the home and wife and marriage that seemed to make everything complete.

She didn’t understand why he was turning her away, or that he was doing it for her own good. And she sure as hell didn’t know what it was doing to him to let her go.

Marriage was enough of a risk, and Emily had already lost once. He couldn’t ask her to take a gamble on him when she didn’t even know the odds. And the odds had been all too clear as he watched his father slide further and further away. He could end up just like his father. Then where would Emily be? And Sam? Looking after an invalid? Making heart-breaking decisions they way he’d had to?

She didn’t know what it was like. Couldn’t know unless she’d been through it.

He’d heard her crying in her room. Quietly, but crying just the same, and it had taken every ounce of restraint not to go to her and tell her he didn’t mean it. Her leaving came as no surprise, and he had tried his best to make it easier on her. He pushed out of the chair and went to the office, digging out the checkbook and taking a pen from the holder. His hand shook as he filled out her name and the date and the pen hovered over the amount.

How could he put a price on all she’d given to him?


Tags: Donna Alward Romance