Page 1 of Luke

Chapter One

Marie

I feel like I’m lost.

I haven’t driven down this road in years. In fact, last time I drove down the two-lane highway, I was heading the other direction certain I’d never be back. Life has a funny way of making you eat your words.

The funny thing is, it’s impossible to get lost on a two-lane highway with no exits. I can’t accidentally make a wrong turn or end up on the wrong road. There are no turns to make. There are no other roads.

That’s how I know I’m on the right track.

I’m on my way to Rose Haven, a small town quite literally in the middle of nowhere, Colorado. Not the fun, snowy, dream-vacation part of Colorado. Ranch country. Eighty percent of the land within the town border is allocated to ranches. The cattle outnumber the people, eight to one.

My mom is one of the few people living in Rose Haven that have nothing to do with ranching.

I’m not far from town, but I can’t tell exactly how close I am. There aren’t even mile markers on the road to guide me.

This highway did have markers at one point, but they’ve all been washed away or broken. The town never bothered to replace them because anyone driving out there already knows where they’re going, with the exception of me.

When I started my drive two days ago, I thought some kind of homing instinct would kick in but it hasn’t. The town could rise up out of the hills in a second or in an hour.

Most of the highway is outside the range of the cell towers. I’ll only get signal again once I get within five miles oftown. There’s only one cell phone tower in Rose Haven. Only the main streets fall within its bubble.

My mother, who lives sixteen miles out of town, doesn’t own a cellphone. She doesn’t want one when her landline works just fine. If she calls someone and they don’t answer, she knows they’re in town.

It never takes long to find someone in Rose Haven. There are only so many places to go and no place to hide. That’s one of the reasons why I left.

I’ve spent the last six years in New Orleans. I went to college there and when I graduated, I couldn’t imagine leaving. New Orleans is the opposite of Rose Haven in every way. That’s why I love it. It’s loud, it’s colorful, and every day there’s something new to see.

There are places to hide in New Orleans.

Out of nowhere, a battered sign rises up down the road.

Welcome to Rose Haven.Pop. 3071.

Rose Haven takes up a surprising amount of space, though no one would ever guess it. I can drive an hour out of town and still be in the county. There’s nothing out there, but still.

The background of the sign was once a rich, deep purple. It clearly hasn’t been touched up since I left. The loopy, cursive lettering was once a rosy shade of pink but the sun’s bleached it into the color of a seashell.

I tighten my grip on the steering wheel. My knuckles ache from the pressure, but I don’t let up. I need something else to focus on.

Anxiety flutters in my chest as I fly toward the sign.

I press my foot down on the accelerator. My little Prius whirls as she zooms forward. Yes, my car is a She. Her name is Penny.

In my mind’s eye, I picture a barricade around the town border. It’s made of all my sour memories piled up on top of each other.

Once I pass the town line, I’ll be fine. I know this is all in my head. Nothing is going to stop me from seeing my mother, especially not the memories of all the pretty blonde bitches that made middle schoolandhigh school a living hell for me.

I don’t see the police cruiser until it’s too late.

I zoom by, cursing myself for not paying more attention. I slow down, but it’s too late. The cruiser’s lights come flashing on and the car pulls onto the road. I begin to pull over. My anxiety increases tenfold.

What’s a cruiser doing out here in the first place.

The car rolls to a stop behind me. The officer gets out. I can’t make out his expression under his wide-brimmed hat and sunglasses. There’s something familiar about him, but I can’t see enough of his face to nail down what it is.

I probably went to school with him. He looks about my age.

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