Madeline had nothing to say to that; it was true, all true. She’d been so concerned about protecting herself and keeping a lid on her anxiety that she’d hurt everyone else involved. “Libby, please let me explain.”
“I don’t want to hear it,” Libby snapped. “Go back to Orlando and live your life, Madeline. No one cares. No one. Honestly? No one even wants you here.” She whirled around and flounced away, her strides long and hard, carrying her as fast and as far from Madeline as she could take herself.
Madeline stared after Libby, but she couldn’t move. She’d lost her breath. She finally put her hands on her knees and bent over as a vise of panic closed in around her throat, forcing the air from her lungs. She’d made a huge mess. Huge. And she’d just ruined the one chance she had in this life of having a sister. Libby would never trust her now. Madeline didn’t deserve her trust.
She straightened up with a deep breath, and noticed several Johnsons standing there, watching her. “Is everything all right?” one of the women said. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, thank you,” Madeline said. “Just a little sisterly spat.” She smiled at the ladies and made herself move, one foot before the other. She had to fix things. She didn’t know how, but she had to fix the mess she’d made. An apology felt too little and too empty, but she had to start somewhere.
Regret began to burn through Madeline, leaving huge holes in her heart where Libby and Luke had been these last few weeks.
She walked in to the house, heard Libby in the kitchen, banging things around in anger. Madeline jogged upstairs to Luke’s room, gathered her things, showered and changed into a new dress, donned her socks and hiking boots, and headed down to the garage.
The keys to the Pontiac were still hanging over the workbench. She got in and started it up, and slowly backed out, careful so as not to hit any Johnsons.
The Pontiac rode like a big steamship down the road, gliding over the smaller pits that had felled the little rental car she’d had. Madeline turned a little too sharply out of the main gate, and the rear wheels spun out from underneath her, but with a shriek of surprise, she managed to straighten it out.
In Pine River, Madeline drove to Elm Street. She was disappointed that Luke’s truck wasn’t there. Neither was the van. Frankly, it didn’t seem as if anyone was home; the house was completely dark.
Madeline drove on, to the Grizzly Lodge, where she took two parking spots because of an inability to park the tank with any precision. She was early yet, but stalked into the lobby nevertheless.
“Well hello there, stranger!” Dani called out to her. She wore a purple Guayabera shirt today. “How are things up at Homecoming Ranch? Heard you have a house full.”
Things at Homecoming Ranch were a disaster, and Madeline still could not wrap her head around the damage she’d done. “We do,” Madeline said. “Lots of Johnsons.”
Dani laughed. “That’s an interesting way to put it. Where is Luke?”
“Ah… I don’t know,” Madeline said. “I’m just going to sit over here and wait for a friend, if that’s okay?”
“Well of course it is,” Dani said.
Madeline sat in one of the big leather chairs, waiting for Stephen, going over what she would say, while Dani bustled about, in and out of the office.
At six o’clock, Stephen came down. He looked surprised to see Madeline there. She stood up and smiled at him, and from the corner of her eye, she noticed the curiosity on Dani’s face.
“Hey,” he said, taking her in. “Love the dress. Are you hungry?”
She wasn’t hungry at all; she was a ball of nerves. “There’s a decent restaurant up the road. The Stakeout,” Madeline said, and walked to the door, pulled it open. “They serve buffalo steak.”
Stephen laughed. He stepped behind her and caught the door, holding it so she could go through. “I don’t know about buffalo.”
“It’s good,” she said. “Tougher than beef. But I wouldn’t recommend a steak there.”
Stephen gave her a funny smile. “You’ve gotten all mountain-y on me.”
Madeline considered that a compliment.
“It’s cute,” he said. “I like it.” He put his hand on the small of her back to lead her out the door. Madeline felt uncomfortable, but then again, she always had with Stephen.
At the Stakeout, they settled in at a table and Stephen ordered wine. He seemed happy with himself, as if they were on a date. “I drove by the DiNapoli place,” he said. “They were moving the statues.”
“Oh?” Bree hadn’t told her that, and Madeline hadn’t asked. She didn’t have her list of things to check off, didn’t have a schedule of all the things that needed to be done. She was flying naked as far as her job went, gone far too long to keep a handle on everything. “I need to get back in the next few days and wrap that up,” Madeline said, more to herself than to him.