Country Brides - Debbie Macomber [87]
Luke turned to Kate. “You’ve got better sense than this, Kate.”
Kate did. But she had no intention of telling him so. “I think Eric knows his own limit,” she returned.
“Then you plan to ride home with him?”
“I’m not sure yet.” She wouldn’t, but she wasn’t about to give Luke an armful of ammunition to use against her.
Luke scowled at her with such fury it was difficult for Kate to swallow normally.
Slowly he turned to Eric. “If you value your teeth, I suggest you stay exactly where you are. Bob,” Luke called to the sheriff’s deputy across the room, “would you see that this newcomer gets home without a problem?”
“Sure thing, Luke.”
“Kate,” he said, addressing her next, “you’re coming with me.”
“I most certainly am not.”
Luke didn’t leave her any option. He leaned forward and pulled her upright, as if she weighed no more than a bag of popcorn.
She struggled briefly but knew it was useless. “Luke, don’t do this. Please, don’t do this,” she pleaded through clenched teeth, humiliated to the very roots of her hair.
“Either you come with me willingly or I carry you out of here.” Luke’s composure didn’t falter. When she resisted, he swept his arms behind her legs and lifted her from the floor.
“Luke,” Kate cried, “put me down this instant. I demand that you put me down.”
He completely ignored her threat as he strode toward the door, his gaze focused impassively ahead of them. The waitress who’d served her dinner came running up to hand Kate her coat and bag. Her eyes were flashing with humor.
“Stick by your man, honey,” she advised. “That city slicker can’t hold a candle to Luke Rivers.”
“Luke’s the man for you,” someone else shouted.
“When you gonna tie the knot?”
Two men were holding open the lounge door for them. The last thing Kate heard as Luke carried her into the cold night air was a robust round of applause from inside the lounge.
Five
“I have never been so embarrassed in my life,” Kate stormed as Luke parked his pickup outside the house. “How could you do that to me? How could you?”
During the entire ride home, Luke hadn’t spoken a word, nor had he even glanced at her. He’d held himself stiff, staring straight ahead. For all his concern about her riding with Eric, he drove as if the very devil were on their tail. Only when they entered the long, winding drive that led to the house had he reduced his speed.
“I’ll never forgive you for this,” she told him, grabbing the door handle and vaulting out of the truck. She couldn’t get away from him fast enough. By morning every tongue in Nightingale would be wagging, telling how Luke Rivers had hauled Kate Logan out of the Red Bull.
To her dismay Luke followed her into the house.
“I couldn’t care less if you forgive me or not,” he said darkly.
“The women were laughing and the men snickering…. I won’t be able to show my face in this town again.”
“As far as I’m concerned, the problem is one of your own making.”
“That’s not true!” She’d had no way of knowing that Eric was going to start downing wine like soda pop. And she did not need a lecture from Luke Rivers. All she wanted him to do was leave, so she could lick her wounds in private and figure out how long it would be before she dared go out in public again.
Luke started pacing the kitchen floor. Each step was measured and precise. Clipped, like his voice.
“Please go,” she beseeched wearily.
“I’m not leaving until I get some answers from you.”
Gathering what remained of her dignity, which at this point wasn’t much, Kate sank onto a chair. She wouldn’t argue with Luke. Every time she tried, she came out the loser. Better to get this over with now rather than wait for morning. She sighed deeply.
“Who the hell is Eric Wilson and why were you having dinner with him?” Luke’s heavy boots clicked against the kitchen floor as he paced.
Instead of answering, Kate asked, “What’s happened to us?” She gazed sorrowfully