He didn’t want to think it had anything to do with Madeline. He didn’t want to think about her at all.
He wasn’t exactly angry with Madeline—he guessed that if the shoe had been on the other foot, he might have said and done the same things she had. He would like to think he would have been more straightforward about it, but really, he didn’t know. It was all so screwed up to begin with.
Luke felt like he didn’t know anything anymore. The only thing he knew was that he needed to get back to his life, to filling the hours and days with work and school. To keep all thoughts and feelings at a numbing distance.
He drove through Pine River and out to Homecoming Ranch to check on things.
The place was a wreck. Trash cans were overflowing, which was an invitation to disaster when wild animals roamed nearby. The Johnsons had trampled paths in the grass between the bunkhouse and house, which were now muddy thanks to afternoon rains. They needed gravel or, at the very least, straw.
Luke pulled in behind a multicolored bus from the rafting company. It was disgorging Johnsons like red bouncing balls. Libby was standing at the fence, wearing a sun hat, checking off names as they came off the bus.
He walked up behind her. “Hey Libby, how are you doing?”
She looked up at him, her expression harried. “Hey, stranger! I’ve learned a lot, Luke. A lot! Next time, we need some controls. Hey, Albie!” she shouted, looking at something over Luke’s shoulder. He turned around, saw a boy who looked to be about ten trying to coax a barking Roscoe out beyond the fence. “What did I tell you about bugging the dogs? Leave them alone!”
“Like I was saying,” she said, glaring at the kid as he skipped by, “I have a pretty good idea what we need to do.”
Luke didn’t think now was a good time to say that he wouldn’t be part of any “next time.”
“Is Madeline around?” he asked.
Libby frowned. “Not this morning. I guess she had things to do in town.”
Just as well, Luke thought. He didn’t know what he would say to her at this point. Good-bye and good luck, he supposed. “What can I do to help?” he asked.
“That shower is acting up again,” Libby said. “No hot water this morning. And two of the cows came down and wandered into the campsite. You’ve never seen so many people scramble in your life. Like they were bears. Ernest drove them back up, but he hasn’t been here to help with the two tents that were knocked off their pads.”
“I’m on it,” he said.
The repair to the shower took him a good hour, an hour in which he had time to think. He would explain to Libby that if she and her sisters decided to keep the ranch, they would need to build a real shower facility. The temporary ones were not built for this kind of use. He would suggest that if they were going to keep on with these events, they invest in some cabins. He would tell them to make sure that they kept the trash locked up and to check the hot water heater about once a week. The thing was old, and sometimes the pilot went out.
There were so many things he could tell them. So many things. That there was a fort down by the campsite, hidden in the bushes. That there was a little trail up the mountain, about five hundred vertical feet, where they could see a waterfall. That his mother’s hummingbird mixture was the best for keeping hummingbirds around, that the rabbits would eat from the vegetable garden so to be sure and cage the plants. That they needed to oil the weather vane from time to time or the squeaking would drive them crazy.
So many things.
When Luke was ready to leave, he stopped in to see Libby once more. She was at the kitchen table, sorting over papers. “Hey!” she said brightly. “Do you want something to eat? They gave me a big tray of brisket and I can’t eat it all—”
“No, I’ve got to get to town. Libby, I’m not coming back.”
“What?” Libby studied him a minute, as if she was trying to make sense of those words. “You mean, ever?”
He shrugged. “I’ve got my work in Denver and I’ve left it long enough.”
“But I thought…” She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. I hate to see you go, Luke. I hate how we came to know each other, too. I hate how this property came into our hands. I wish it could have been different for all of us.”
“I appreciate that, Libby, but it isn’t different, and I need to get on with my life. Ernest can help you with anything you need, you know.”
“I know. Most of the Johnsons are leaving tomorrow anyway.” She smiled wryly and stood up. Before Luke knew what she was doing, she wrapped her arms around him. “Thanks for everything, Luke. I know this hasn’t been easy for you.”
He hugged her back. “Take care, Libby.”