Page 4 of Luke

Chapter Three

Marie

“It’s not all that bad,” my mother, Alice, says in the seat next to me. “Though, I wish we would’ve taken my car.”

We’re on our way back from treatment in Denver.

“You’re lucky your car made it to Denver and back even once,” I say. “You need to get a new one.”

“Gary Wiseman’s selling his truck,” she says. “I saw Ranger Luke putting up a for sale flyer at the general store.”

“If your little Toyota is struggling to make the drive, what makes you think Gary Wiseman’s old truck is going to do any better,” I ask.

“I don’t know,” my mother says dreamily.

I feel guilty about my rising annoyance. Alice Richardson is many things but practical is not one of them. Growing up, we always lived in the strangest houses. They never looked like the ones all of the other kids lived in. She likes spaces that have character.

Her current house is a refurbished horse barn. I have to admit, she did an amazing job fixing it up. It almost looks normal.

We pull onto the main road and I pull into a parking spot in front of Jeanette’s Grocery, the only grocery store in town.

“Do you need something?” My mother asks.

“You need something,” I say. “You heard the doctor. I’m getting smoothie supplies so your system doesn’t have to work overtime.”

“I don’t have a blender,” she says.

I let out a long sigh. “You couldn’t have mentioned that earlier?”

“I didn’t know you wanted to get smoothie stuff.”

“The doctor deliberately recommended it,” I say. “Why wouldn’t I do what the doctor says.”

“Doctors say all kinds of things,” my mother waves me off. It’s everything I can do to rein in my temper.

“And you should listen to them. I’ll be right back.”

I get out of the car before she can say anything. I hope she stays put. I need a moment alone.

“Marie!” Jeanette calls the moment I step into the store. “I heard you were back in town!”

“I’m not back,” I clarify. “I’m just helping my mother until she gets better.”

“Bless your heart.” Jeanette lays a hand on my shoulder. “My goodness, you haven’t changed a bit.”

Her eyes drift to my midsection for a fraction of a second.

“Neither have you,” I reply. “Do you have frozen fruit?”

“In the freezer section,” she nods. “We don’t have much.”

“I’ll make do.” I slip away before she can say anything else.

When I get to the freezer section, I spy one bag of frozen strawberries and nothing else. I grab it since I’ve already made the effort.

“Jeanette?” I call when I’m back at the front of the store. “You don’t happen to sell blenders, do you?”

“Not this time of year,” she says. “I usually order a few for spring and summer but since autumn’s closing in, I haven’t ordered any. You making smoothies or something?”

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