Reclaim My Heart

chapter FOUR

Lincoln Highway shot straight through southeast Pennsylvania’s lush farmland. From the backseat of Lucas’s BMW, Tyne gazed out at grassy wheat fields, tidy rows of neatly-trimmed fruit trees, and squat, windowless mushroom houses. The blasting air conditioner did little to cool her temper. Shaking Lucas until his teeth rattled loose might give her some satisfaction.

She hadn’t spoken a single word since Lucas had picked up her and Zach a little over an hour ago. A fire continued to smolder inside her. It had been sparked in that courtroom when Lucas had succeeded in turning her life upside down.

Yes, he had made his suggestion for Zach’s sake. Logic wouldn’t allow her to think otherwise. And Sandy, Chip, and Gina, her friends and partners of Easy Feasts, couldn’t have been more supportive or cooperative about her needing time off to sort out her son’s problems. It would make for longer work days for a few weeks, but they were good people who knew Tyne would, in an instant, do the same thing for them. Even Rob, who rarely voiced an opinion about her son, had admitted that Lucas’s plan might be just what Zach needed. But that was classic Rob, always going with the flow, taking the path of least resistance.

So why was she feeling so betrayed? The reaction might not make much sense, but that’s what she felt. Betrayed. By her friends. By her fiancé. She wanted all of them to be as annoyed with Lucas as she was for forcing her to leave her home and her business.

She even felt betrayed by Zach.

Her son had been an absolute bear since that ill-tempered judge had exiled them for thirty days. Zach had snapped at her at every opportunity. He’d moped around the house, he’d groused whenever she’d spoken to him. He didn’t want to be on this trip any more than she did. But then this morning Lucas arrived in his sleek, silver sedan with its black leather interior and tinted windows. The car was probably worth more than what she earned in a year, maybe two. Zach had been awed, and he and Lucas had talked horsepower, torque, and acceleration speed as they stowed the suitcases in the trunk. Tyne had settled herself into the backseat, her arms folded tightly under her breasts, savoring just a smidgeon of satisfaction that her silent treatment would prove to Lucas just how she felt about his stupid plan.

But he hadn’t seemed to notice.

The three of them hadn’t even left the city limits before Lucas had plied Zach with sports talk. Lucas did most of the talking about the Eagles. Buth n Zach was crazy for football. How many arguments had she had with him during his pre-teen years over staying up late to watch the game? The conversation became more two-sided when the subject switched to the Phillies. If only Zach could remember algebraic equations as easily as he spouted off batting stats. He became almost animated. Well, as animated as a sullen fifteen-year-old will allow himself to become, anyway, when the conversation turned to ice hockey. All that talk of power play percentages and shot on goals and shutouts became as mind-numbing as a hefty shot of Novocain to Tyne.

The fact that father and son were talking was a good thing—she exhaled loudly, cheeks puffing, bangs blowing—wasn’t it? Brooding like a four-year-old was stupider than Lucas’s stupid plan. She realized that, but she couldn’t do a damned thing about the irritation chewing her insides.

They’d passed Lancaster not long ago, so she knew they weren’t far from their destination. Wikweko, a tiny hamlet located due west of Philadelphia, was nestled in a beautiful valley between the Susquehanna River and the City of Lancaster. The Native Americans who had come together to settle Wikweko shared the fertile basin with the people of nearby Oak Mills. Tyne’s hometown.

The silence that had settled over Lucas and Zach tugged at Tyne’s attention. She glanced toward them, then saw her son dart two quick looks at his father. An odd, kinetic tension simmered inside the car.

Finally, he said, “So, um, I’m, ah, Lenape, huh?”

Her gaze clashed with Lucas’s in the rearview mirror.

“Honey,” she said to her son, leaning forward and placing her hand on his shoulder. Shifting in the seat gave her a chance to support her son, but it had also allowed her to avoid Lucas’s hard stare. “You knew your father was Native American. We talked about it.”

Zach went still. He didn’t turn around to look at her. “Yeah. We talked about it. Once. For that family genealogy project I did back in fourth grade.”

She slid back into the seat, mindful of Lucas’s gaze boring into hers in that small mirror. Tyne glanced out the window and saw the Wikweko welcome sign.

“We’re here.” Tension and anger and sheer frustration strangled her pronouncement.

“What’s it mean?” Zach asked. “Wikweko. Is this place named after someone?”

Lucas shook his head as he turned onto the community’s main street. “No, it’s from our people’s native tongue. Algonquian. It means ‘place where something ends.’ My great-grandparents and a slew of other Lenape families pooled their money and bought this land.” He made another turn. “They’d been tossed out of their homes, their land confiscated by the government, or they’d been swindled by fast-talking reps of big businesses. Things were harsh for our ancestors. I’m sure you’ve learned about that in your US history classes. A lot of people spent generations feeling lost, like drifters without a real home. They named the community Wikweko, thinking this would be the place where their wandering would end.”

“Algonquian, huh? Saa-weet.” Zach twisted in his seat to face Lucas. “You know any other words?”

Lucas lifted one shoulder. “I used to. When I was about your age, my uncle taught me some. Hello. Good-bye. Sky. Sun. Moon. The names of a few plants and animals. That kind of thing.” He looked at Zach and grinned. “Just enough to impress the girls.”

Zach snickered. Tyne forced her gaze away from Lucas’s striking profile, focusing instead on the passing scenery. She’d certainly been impressed by him all those years ago. He’d been so different from the boys she’d grown up with in Oak Mills. His swarthy skin and sharp bone structure. Those dark, penetrating eyes. His bad-boy manner. His self-assurance. His q

Amëwë is what he’d called her, the soft syllables tickling across her skin when he’d whispered them close to her ear. Little bumblebee fit, he’d told her, because she’d stung him in the heart. She’d razzed him mercilessly about the corniness of it, but she remembered how she’d melted in his hands that moonless night.

The car jolted slightly when Lucas steered onto a pea stone driveway.

The familiar red brick ranch house had Tyne smiling. “We’re staying with Jasper?”

Lucas shook his head as he put the car in park and cut the engine. “Uncle Jasper doesn’t live here any more. The house is mine now. I’m going to renovate the place and use it as a rental property. As soon as I can get around to it.”

The three of them climbed out of the car and Zach looked at his father over the roof. “I have an uncle?”

“A great uncle,” Lucas corrected. They congregated near the trunk. “My father died when I was nine. Uncle Jasper moved in. Took over the mortgage, the utilities. Raised me like I was his own.”

Tyne tugged at the hem of her blouse, then smoothed her hand over her hair. “How is Jasper?”

“He’s doing okay.” Lucas shrugged vaguely. “I guess.”

Lucas opened the trunk and Zach pulled out his suitcase and backpack. “When do I get to meet him? My uncle. I mean, your uncle. My great uncle.” Zach paused after slinging the backpack over his shoulder. “Do I get to call him Uncle Jasper too?”

Tyne went utterly still. She hadn’t seen Zach smile in a long time.

“Let’s slow down a little,” Lucas said, his chin tucked tight as he unloaded the trunk. “Let’s go inside and get settled. There’s plenty of time to do everything we want to do.”

Zach turned and made his way to the front door.

She reached for her case.

“I’ve got it,” Lucas told her.

“No, thanks.” Her fingers contacted his on the handle, and his skin felt fire-hot. “I can take care of myself.” She gave a little tug and he let go.

“Suit yourself.”

“I will, thanks.” She flashed him a plastic ‘screw-you’ smile before turning and following Zach.

She shouldn’t continue this infantile behavior. Really. But she didn’t want to be here in Wikweko. Didn’t want to leave her business. Didn’t want to be forced to live under the same roof with this man for the next thirty days. Lucas would just have to understand where she was coming from. If he couldn’t…‌tough.

Lucas slid between Tyne and Zach to unlock the front door. As soon as he entered, he set down his own suitcase and tugged off the sheet that covered the couch. The curtains were drawn and white sheets still hid the remainder of the furniture, but a deep sense of nostalgia rolled through Tyne when she stepped into the living room. How many Saturday afternoons had she sat here watching television with Lucas? It had been a different couch, of course, but they had spent so much time together—in this room, in this house—getting to know each other, talking about their hopes and dreams.

“It won’t take me long to clean this place up,” Lucas assured them.

“We’ll help.” Tyne moved further into the room, nudging her son ahead of her. “Won’t we, Zach?”

“Sure. I guess.”

The petulance in his tone had her cutting a sideways glance of warning at him. “Of course, we will. Lucas, tell us where to stow our bags and we can get to work.”

Lucas matched two corners of the sheet while folding it. “You take Uncle JasperourUncle J’s old room. Off the kitchen.” He motioned the way with a tip of his head.

“I remember. But that’s the big bedroom.” The suitcases were beginning to feel like lead weights in her hands.

“You take it. That way you’ll have your own bathroom. Jasper added one on. The men can share. That okay with you, Zach?”

Her son shrugged. “Got no prob.”

Lucas pointed down the hall. “You take the bedroom on the left. That was my old room. I don’t think my uncle’s changed much in there. I’ll take the one straight back. The bathroom is to the right.”

“Sweet,” Zach said, hitching his backpack further up on his shoulder and trekking down the hallway.

Tyne didn’t get it. Zach was Mr. Sunshine with Lucas and grumpy as hell with her. She thought she and her son should be sharing some solidarity. What was going on?

A couple of hours later, all the beds had been made up with fresh sheets, the dust covers had been removed from the upholstered furniture, counters and tables had been dusted, the carpet vacuumed, and a soft summer breeze fluttered the curtains of the open windows.

Tyne finished shining the stainless steel sink, rinsed and wrung the dishcloth and hung it over the faucet. Then she dried her hands and, still clutching the dishtowel, she went into the living room. Seeing Lucas and Zach sitting on the couch, she frowned.

“What’s going on?” Her son didn’t take his eyes off the bow in his hands, so she asked, “What’s that?”

Lucas chuckled. “It’s a bow, Tyne.”

Heat flushed her body. “I know what it is. What’s he doing with it?”

“He gave it to me.” Zach clutched the thick wood of the bow’s handle as he lightly fingered the taut string as if it were some sort of exotic musical instrument. There was wonder in his tone, in his gaze, in his touch.

“My uncle made it for me,” Lucas told Zach. “Along with a quiver of arrows. There are only a few arrows left, but we can buy some more.” Then he looked at Tyne. “I found them stored in the closet. I’d like Zach to have them.”

The strangest feeling welled up in Tyne. “Oh, no.” She shook her head. “No, no, no. He’s not accepting that. That’s a weapon. That could be deadly. You don’t give a fifteen-year-old a dangerous weapon.”

Lucas looked momentarily confused, but then he smiled and shook his head. Tyne thought her brain would explode from the frustration caused by his nonchalant attitude. Zach’s jaw set and his eyes grew hooded.

“Don’t be silly, Tyne.”

“It’s a gift.” Her son jutted his chin. “And I am accepting it.”

“And I said you’re not.” Tyne planted a fist on her hip.

“He has custody this month. He gets to say what I can do and what I can’t do.” Zach stared at her in an evident stand-off. But it didn’t take long before his gaze broke from hers and he set the bow next to the leather quiver. “Why do you have to ruin everything? Everything!” He stood then, and bolted for the front door.

The metal screen slammed shut, the bang sharply emphasizing the silence he left behind.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Tyne glared at Lucas.

The man sat on the sofa, cool and collected. “I’m trying to win his trust.”

“Win it? Or buy it?”

A tiny fissure cracked through Lucas’s calm. “Not only are you being unreasonable, you’re also being unfair.”

As teens, they had often debated the injustices of society, focusing mainly on close-mindedness and discrimination. Tyne was often upset by the bias Lucas suffered at the hands of teachers, coaches, and even peers, treatment that Lucas usually t

“It’s a reasonable assessment from where I’m standing.”

He cupped his knees with his palms. “Look, Tyne, the kid doesn’t know me. I’m a complete stranger.”

“The kid? That kid is my son.” Everything he said seemed to grate on her.

“Our son,” Lucas pointedly reminded her. “I have a stake in this too. I want to help him too. But you have to let me.”

“That thing is a weapon.”

He slid his hands over his thighs. “It can be. But it’s only a weapon if a person has a mind to use it that way. And a person has to know how to use it; otherwise, it’s a pretty frustrating contraption. Besides, it’s safer than the knives and guns that some of the kids his age tote around these days.”

“That’s a ridiculous argument.” Tyne rested her hand on the back of the chair, barely aware of the faint scent of pine spilling into the room on the heated breeze. “Zach has nothing to do with guns or knives.”

“I was ten when Jasper made my first bow for me. A short, stubby little thing.” He reached out and touched the wood of the bow he’d given Zach. “This one was a gift for my thirteenth birthday. It was too big for me, and my uncle knew it. He told me to pull it. That it would develop my muscles and callous my fingers. That when I could shoot it properly, I’d be a man.”

Lucas looked up at Tyne. “I pulled on that string every day, Tyne. I was nearly Zach’s age before I was strong enough to shoot with any accuracy. Uncle Jasper taught me to aim only at what I intended to shoot and to shoot where I aimed. I didn’t realize it then, but he was teaching me responsibility, self-reliance and self-confidence. Zach needs all of those things.”

“How the hell do you know what Zach needs? You’ve spent a total of four hours of your life with him.” Somewhere inside her there was a tiny seed of understanding that Lucas’s argument was logical and warranted her attention, but a thick haze of emotion choked off the perception and kept it from sprouting into anything tangible.

He stood and stepped over to look out the front door. Tyne’s shoulders squared.

“That boy is in deep trouble,” she said. “He needs to be disciplined, not rewarded with a new toy.”

“First it’s a weapon. Now it’s a toy.” Lucas shook his head derisively. Without turning to face her, he slid his hands into his pockets. “He’s not a boy, Tyne. He’s almost a man. And it seems to me that the discipline should have been started long ago.”

“Stop it. Just stop.” She slung the dishtowel over the back of the upholstered chair. “I won’t let you, or that judge, criticize my parenting. I’m a good mother, damn it. You have no idea what Zach and I have faced over the years. What I—” she poked herself in the chest “—have gotten us through. With very little help. From anyone. So I don’t want to hear another word of disapproval from you. You don’t know. You just don’t know.”

Lucas sighed as he turned to look at her. “Listen, Tyne, I don’t mean to assign blame, and the last thing I want to do is argue with you at every turn. We need to focus on the problem. Zach is in trouble and he needs our help. And we won’t be able to help him if we’re constantly at each other’s throats.”

Tyne kept her mouth shut, shifted her weight to her right foot and crossed her arms over her chest. The raw edges of her emotions refused to allow her to acknowledge that the man had made a valid point or two. Her silence would have to suffice.

“I get it, okay?” he continued. “I get that you’re angry. You’re angry that you’re here. You’re angry about the past. I get it.” He lifted one hand and oubne handrubbed the back of his neck. “For what it’s worth, I’m not so sure coming here was the best solution. But this is where we’re at. This is what we’ve got. We have to make it work. We have to make it work together, you and I. For Zach.

“And about the past—” he lifted both hands, palms up, then let them fall to his sides “—I’ve got so many questions, I don’t even know where to begin. But I know asking them will only lead to more arguments, more blame, more anger. I think the best thing for us to do is focus on the problem. For now, at least.” He glanced out the door, then back at Tyne, murmuring, “Let’s just focus on the problem.”

He moved back to the couch and picked up the bow. “I want him to have this, Tyne. If you say not now, then that’s how it’ll have to be. But I want you to know I’ll just wait until he’s eighteen and give it to him then.” Lucas set the bow down again. “It’s perfectly safe, you know. And I’d be with him. I’d teach him to use it. Properly. We need something, Tyne. He and I. Something to help us connect. Some reason to be together. So we can talk. So we can get to know one another.” Again, he sighed. “I hope you’ll change your mind.”

For long seconds she remained silent, her jaw clenched until it ached. Finally, she murmured, “Okay.”

He shook his head, confused. “Okay what? Okay, we shouldn’t fight? Okay, we need to work together? Okay, Zach can have the bow? What?”

She swallowed hard. “Okay to everything.” She snatched up the dishtowel. “But I don’t like it, Lucas. Any of it. Not one bit. I want you to know that. I want you to know exactly how I feel.” She looked down to see that she’d stretched the towel taut. “We do have to work with what we’ve got. But I damn well don’t have to like it.”

Tyne turned, stalked straight through the kitchen, down the short hall to the bedroom and shut the door.

• • •



After stripping down to her panties and bra, Tyne sprawled out on the bed. Maybe a nap would help cool her anger. Everything she’d said to Lucas had been the truth. She had struggled as a single parent, and no one could understand the pitfalls she’d experienced. The situation that forced all of them into this damned exile galled her to the core. Her heart ached for Zach, yet at the same time, she hated that she felt disappointed in him, hated that his mistake shined a bad light on her mothering skills. She wished she didn’t have to be here, didn’t have to deal with this mess. But she probably shouldn’t have lashed out at Lucas about it. As angry as she was, logic and reason told her he was only trying to help Zach. Why couldn’t she give him a little credit for that?

She rolled over onto her back, splayed her hands on her stomach, and stared at the ceiling. As her breathing became more measured, her shoulders relaxed, and her eyelids fluttered shut. Her thoughts drifted to the past, as if she were transported by some plush and magical carpet.

The first time she and Lucas spent the night together, they packed sleeping blankets, sandwiches, fresh fruit, and water, and they slipped off into the woods together on a moonless summer night. She had lied to her parents—blatantly and boldly—and she hadn’t been bothered by a single twinge of guilt for doing it. Even now, she grinned at the monumental audacity she’d exhibited back then when it came to finding ways to be with Lucas.

His ability to build a fire, construct a lean-to for shelter, and, yes, speak the soft syllables that made up the words of his native tongue had impressed her. But she’d been so utterly in lust with him at the time, she’d have agreed to spend the night with him at the complete mercy of the elements dur pielementing a monsoon.

“It’s so dark,” she complained, right after a screech owl had let out a heart-stopping shriek. She snuggled up against him, and he chuckled at her fear. Then he assured her there was nothing in the woods that would harm them.

“I chose the night of the New moon for a good reason,” he told her. “Less chance of us being seen.” Then he slid his arm around her shoulders. “And it’s also a night when the stars really put on a show.”

They were miles away from street lamps and house lights, far from town and neighborhoods. The sky was an inky dome, a perfect backdrop for the stars that glittered like gem chips, sapphires, rubies, emeralds, and, of course, a multitude of diamonds.

Their kisses and caresses had been innocent, at first, but when their breathing became labored, they had peeled off their clothes with no inhibitions. Lying naked in his arms beneath the dazzling stars had Tyne experiencing a freedom like she’d never felt in her life.

His golden brown skin rippled with muscle, his hands and lips on her body ignited powerful urges in her. His breath was soft against her cheek as he hovered over her.

“I can see the stars shining in your eyes,” he whispered. “And you’re more beautiful than a whole universe of stars.”

She marveled at how comfortable he seemed voicing those kinds of opinions, compliments that could almost be poetic. It was curl-your-toes romantic.

He stroked his fingertips down her neck and chest, over her breast, and then he lowered his head and took the dark peak into his mouth. She’d gasped at the deliciousness of it, and it seemed like the most natural thing in the world to lift her hips and press herself against him.

When he entered her that first time, the pain made her eyes go wide. He’d apologized, hugged her, kissed her, and soon, she was panting and writhing beneath him.

Their first time had ended a bit awkwardly, with both of them feeling unsure where to focus their gazes or rest their hands, but they fixed that by practicing for two full days. And even though they’d been young and inexperienced when they’d walked into those woods, they’d been quick to learn at least some of the erogenous secrets the other held. Over the course of that long, lazy weekend, they made slow, sensuous love, and swift, sweaty love, and every other type of love they could think of to make.

Screwing hadn’t been their only pastime. They’d walked through the lush forest, they’d fished in a nearby stream. Lucas had laughed when Tyne squealed over having caught a fish. He’d cleaned it, and she’d done her best to cook it, and he’d pronounced it the most delicious fillet on a stick he’d ever eaten; she agreed.

They’d celebrated by getting naked and playing in the knee-high creek. When she saw the leech that attached itself to her calf, she’d screamed and run. Lucas had to catch her, and then he told her to sit tight. He’d gone to the fire, deftly lit the end of a thin twig, and then blew out the flame. One careful touch of the glowing ember had the slimy creature releasing its hold and dropping to the ground. Lucas cleaned the blood from her leg and kissed away her tears, and then they made love right there on the mossy bank.

That’s when he’d called her Amëwë for the very first time. That’s the moment he’d told her he loved her; he’d spoken the words with such intensity, Tyne had difficulty holding his gaze. Her eyes welled with tears and she’d been sure the very fabric of her heart would rip apart from the immense emotion swelling there.

Tyne blinked several times and shoved herself up from the mattress, the ache in her heart keeping steady time with the heavy throb between her legs. Damn it. Lookenoumn it. d like a nap wasn’t on the agenda, after all. Maybe what she needed was a cool shower. No maybe about it.





She reached for her robe and headed for the door.