Page 13 of Luke

Three

The dining room was about a quarter-full when Luke made his way to the lodge for lunch. The room was warm and inviting, with dark paneled walls, exposed beams, hardwood floors, and round tables decorated with small glass vases filled with wildflowers. The sight of those flowers brought a wave of pain.

Lizzie had always loved wildflowers. She was not the girl who wanted perfect roses or rare orchids; she liked flowers that grew among the weeds. She thought they were tough and resilient, kind of like her.

Lizzie had not had an easy childhood. Her father had abandoned the family when she was three. Her mother had struggled to raise her and her sister Kelly, battling depression and working long hours to try to take care of the girls. Lizzie had worked hard, too. Her college scholarship hadn't covered all of her expenses, so she'd gotten a job in the dining hall on campus, serving up bean and beef burritos.

He smiled to himself, thinking about all those bean and beef burritos he'd eaten just so he could see her for a few minutes in the middle of the day.

Now, she'd lost her sister and brother-in-law and had taken on the raising of a sullen teenage girl. Running a mountain lodge was a far cry from being a concert pianist, the dream she'd had all of her life. He couldn't quite believe she'd given it all up. On the other hand, it didn't sound as if she'd had another choice.

Lizzie came over, giving him a wary look. "You can sit anywhere you like." She handed him a menu. "Our chef makes a few specials every day. Everything is good."

He took the menu out of her hand and looked around the room. Three of the tables were filled but there was an open table by the window. He made his way over to that one. As he looked at the menu, he noted the hearty but healthy offerings: turkey chili with kale salad, roasted chicken and organic vegetables, grilled salmon and quinoa.

Lizzie had told him everything was good and right now everything looked good to him. When a young guy came over to take his order, he settled on the roasted chicken and added a cup of clam chowder to start.

While he was waiting for his food, he glanced over at Lizzie, who was chatting with one of the guests, giving them tips on which hiking trail to take.

She glanced away from her conversation for a brief moment, catching his eye, her gaze clinging to his for a long moment.

A warmth spread through him. He'd felt numb since hearing of his father's death, but now he felt anticipation and shockingly, a little fear.

He'd always thought Lizzie could change his life; it was one of the reasons they'd broken up. He hadn't wanted her to change his life, and she hadn't wanted him to change hers. He'd actually thought that they might never see each other again—that maybe they had to be apart in order to get what they both wanted.

But here they were—together again.

His father had known Lizzie was here, and now he knew why he'd been left the resort. His dad had always liked Lizzie; he'd thought she was good for him. In fact, when they'd broken up, his dad had told him he was a fool to let her go and that someday he'd be sorry.

That was Colin. Saying what he thought without a filter, without a care for how blunt or hurtful he might be. His father had always liked to speak the truth, but sometimes the truth was painful.

He didn't know if he'd been a fool to let her go. But he did know that he'd missed her, never more so than at this moment. He was happy when the waiter stepped between him and Lizzie to set down his meal.

He ate with enthusiasm, the creamy flavor of the clam chowder comforting and warming, the roasted chicken flavorful and energizing. He felt like he hadn't eaten in days, and for the first time since he'd gotten the news of his dad's death, he was actually hungry, which was a good thing. He was going to need strength to deal with Lizzie. He'd seen the light of battle in her eyes when he'd mentioned selling the resort, and he knew what that look meant. She wasn't going to give up without a fight.

He just had to figure out what he wanted to fight for. He knew next to nothing about the resort. Before he made any decisions, he needed to find out exactly what value the property held and whether it was worth keeping. There had been so few things in his life that he'd ever wanted to keep; he couldn't quite imagine coming to that decision. But if Lizzie wanted a chance to change his mind, he'd give her that.

He hadn’t been ready to see her again, but he was even less ready to say good-bye—for the second time.

* * *

Lizzie dropped a thick file folder onto the table as Luke finished his lunch.

He wiped his mouth with a napkin. "What's that?"

She slid into the chair across from him. "Accounting reports from the last six months. You'll see that since I got the job, profits have gone up."

He didn't bother to open the file. "You know, I'm not a numbers guy."

"I can summarize things for you. If you're the new owner of the lodge, then you should know how things are going."

"Or I could just sell the place."

"I'm sure that would be the easiest thing for you. You're very good at leaving and not looking back."

There was an edge to her voice and anger in her eyes now. "I thought we weren't making this personal, Lizzie. Do you really want to talk about the past? Because I don't think you're going to come out all that well."

"That's the last thing I want to talk about," she said quickly. "I'm only concerned about the present and the future. Some of us have responsibilities." She blew out a breath. "Why did your father have to leave the resort to you?"

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