“What kind of pet?”
“A cat. A beautiful gray cat—Mary, Queen of Scots.”
“You named your cat after a queen?”
“She was just a stray, but her royal bearing made me feel like I should immediately genuflect. So, yes, a queen.”
A grin tugged at his mouth. That sounded just like the Allie he remembered.
A sudden downpour had Luke flipping on the wipers.
“Slow down. You’re going too fast.”
But the shower had apparently been going on in the mountains awhile. The ground was muddy, and water puddled in the low-lying parts of the road.
He slowed, taking the next curve with caution.
Allie’s phone dinged and a moment later she gave a dry laugh. “Mom says, ‘Drive carefully and slow, and for heaven’s sake don’t run out of gas on those mountain roads.’ And Dad says, ‘Don’t strip the gears.’ Clearly I haven’t told them you’re driving.”
He couldn’t miss the bitter tone. He didn’t know if it was because she was the baby of the family or because her older sister was her polar opposite, but her parents seemed to favor Olivia sometimes.
“They obviously trusted you with the car,” he said.
Which meant they were now trusting him with the car, technically. What if something went wrong? What if he wrecked the car? Allie was family—and he was not. His shoulder muscles tightened at the thought, and he eased off the accelerator.
Thunder clapped, reverberating through the mountains, as they passed a crossroads.
Luke glanced in the rearview mirror. “Weren’t we supposed to turn back there?” he asked over the song blaring from her phone.
Allie checked the GPS. “I lost cell signal. But I think you’re right.”
He slowed down at the next turnoff and headed back to the road.
“Do you know the way without the GPS?” he asked. The roads through the mountains were like a maze, but Allie had been to her grandparents’ quite a few times.
“I think so.” She lifted her chin and sniffed—to let him know that, yes, she was conversing with him, but she was still miffed. Probably even more so after her parents’ texts.
It was going to be a long trip.
Luke turned onto the correct road, then checked on Walter—still fast asleep, despite the storm, loud music, and rumbling engine. The rain continued, the conditions deteriorating with each mile.
“You’re going too fast.”
Allie was being overly cautious—totally unlike her. But, hey, no one wanted to keep the car safe more than he did. He eased off the accelerator again.
The wipers, even on the highest speed, could hardly keep pace with the deluge flooding the windshield. The road was windy, the mountain rising on one side and dropping off on the other. Rain pummeled the roof and thunder cracked nearby. At least the ruckus drowned out that ridiculous music.
As if realizing that herself, Allie shut off the playlist.
Luke drove on, one slow mile at a time, as Allie stared out the passenger window. He kept his gaze glued on the pavement, navigating the winding road carefully, fully aware that if anything happened to this perfectly restored car, the blame would fall squarely on him. He hadn’t fully considered that when he’d agreed to this little road trip. His palms grew damp, sticking to the steering wheel.
One mile turned into twelve. This uncomfortable silence would be the death of him. Maybe he should attempt a civil conversation. Keep it neutral.
“So . . . your grandparents have been married fifty years, huh? That’s something.”
“They argue like two kids in a sandbox.” Her fond tone contradicted the words.
Her grandparents were great, and they visited often. “Yeah, but then your grandma brings him a cuppa joe, and he pulls her down on his lap, and she tells him she’s too old to be pawed at like a teenager—”
“And then they’re off to the races again,” Allie finished.
Silence settled in once again, the conversation having reached a dead end. Luke gave it another go. “So, how’s Olivia doing? I don’t see her around town very often.”
“Busy with the kids and fund-raisers and field trips.”
“Have you babysat lately? Evan must be in kindergarten by now.”
“He is. But Olivia hasn’t let me babysit since the Cocoa Puffs incident.”
He tore his gaze from the pavement to glance at her. “What incident?”
“Don’t tell me you haven’t heard. I thought everyone in the entire tristate area knew by now.”
“Not me, I swear.”
Allie was quiet so long Luke thought she was going to drop the whole thing.
Then she spared him a look. “One night while I was babysitting over a long weekend, Evan decided to put Cocoa Puffs up his nose while I was changing Emma’s diaper. Ella saw him do it and screamed for me. But when I got to the kitchen, I couldn’t get them out, not even with tweezers. I knew he could breathe through his mouth, but still . . . I guess I freaked out a little.
“I drove him to the ER, totally frantic, reminding him to keep his mouth open. Emma screamed the whole way because it was time for her bottle, and Ella kept asking if Evan was going to die.”
Luke’s lips twitched.
“At the hospital a nurse came into the room as I was searching for Emma’s bottle and dialing Olivia to break the news. The nurse gave me this condescending look as she gave Evan’s nose a hard pinch and told him to blow. Then he started wailing—just as Olivia picked up the phone, of course. Turned out he was crying not because the procedure had hurt, but because his Cocoa Puffs were ‘broked.’”
Luke held back a laugh he knew wouldn’t be appreciated.
“Try telling Olivia that though. She and Spencer came right home from their weekend getaway, and I haven’t been asked to babysit since.”
His humor drained away. Olivia had always been Miss Responsibility while Allie was . . . well, she was Allie. She was impulsive and changeable and fun, which made her a great aunt. And he couldn’t help but be annoyed with Olivia for taking that away from her.
Chapter 7
Allie couldn’t believe she’d just relayed that stupid story to Luke. Reliving her Cocoa Puffs faux pas made her feel vulnerable, and that was the last thing she wanted to feel around Luke.
“Anyway . . .” She hoped her upbeat tone glossed over her hurt. “I still get to spend time with the little rugrats, of course, and Evan learned not to block his breathing pathways with cereal.”
“She overreacted. You didn’t do anything wrong. Just give her a little time.”
Allie let out a humorless laugh. She wouldn’t hold her breath. The rain continued to pound the roof of the car, and a crack of thunder split the air. She glanced in the back seat for the hundredth time to make sure the dog wasn’t about to pounce. He was fast asleep, jowls sagging to the side.
She continued staring at the passing landscape. They hadn’t passed a car in ages. Seemed like no one else wanted to meander the mountain roads during a thunderstorm. Go figure.
Luke slowed the car. “Oh boy.”
Allie’s gaze followed his. Up ahead a one-lane bridge spanned the river, water rushing over the roadway. It must’ve been raining for days up here.