Half Moon Hill (44 page)

And hell—why, again, was he leaving?

I’m in love with you. I love you like crazy.

He could still hear her saying those words. And in one way, they hadn’t come as a surprise. He
knew
she loved him. He’d known it for a while now. But in another way . . . well, to hear her say it had turned him inside out. Never in his life had anything made him feel so good, so special, while scaring him to death at the same time.
That
, he supposed, was why he was leaving. Even before she’d
said
it, it had boiled down to that.

He didn’t know how to love a woman. He didn’t know how to be the man she needed. And he sure as hell didn’t know how to do it when he felt like the town pariah and was already battling a host of demons.

He imagined what was going on right now down in the heart of Destiny at Creekside Park. The fact was, he’d been to a few demolition derbies in his day and he enjoyed them. He just hadn’t thought he would enjoy it
now
—in light of the way Denny’s accident had affected him. He hoped Anna got that, hoped she understood why he hadn’t gone tonight. Besides, he didn’t much see the point in facing the whole town—not to mention letting Mike Romo know about their relationship—if he was getting ready to pack up and leave anyway.

And so going ahead, leaving now, just seemed like the thing to do.

Still, it felt strange to get on his Harley, glance over his shoulder at the cabin and know it was the last time. And stranger still to ride out of the woods, catch sight of the sunny yellow house he’d put so much sweat into, and know he wouldn’t see
it
again, either. Damn, it wasn’t like him to get attached to places. What the hell was
that
about?

But he took one last look, then accelerated and put his focus on the road before him—the only way to leave was to just do it.
Just do it and don’t look back.

Funny thing was, he’d almost reached the center of town before he realized that was the direction he’d ridden in. But . . . maybe he wanted to take one last look at Destiny, too. And hell, he should’ve said goodbye to Lucky before he left, but he’d call him in a day or two from somewhere, explain why he hadn’t—and try to make it sound like it made some sort of sense.

And as he rode on through town, past the square and the high school and the big church where he’d watched Mike Romo get married last year, he felt . . . empty.
Not much has changed in you this summer, has it?
He’d thought it had; he’d thought he’d come pretty damn far since he’d first retreated to Anna’s woods.
But you’re still running away. Still trying to hide.
Who the fuck had he become since that damn accident?

That’s when he came up on Creekside Park on his left. He could hear the revving of engines even over his own as he passed. And he suffered the strangest stirring inside him.
Your life is over there.
That’s what he felt. It wasn’t in the woods. It wasn’t even at the house. It was . . . the people. Lucky and Tessa were over there. Lucky’s boy was over there. All those good people he didn’t quite fit in with but still liked—Amy, Logan, Mike—they were over there, too. And Anna. His Daisy in the Daisy Dukes was over there, as well.

And she was wishing he was with her.

The way he
should
be.

The park entrance lay dead ahead and he turned in.

What the hell are you doing?

But he knew.

I’m not running from any damn thing anymore, that’s what. I’m taking my fucking life back. I’m gonna be the man I used to be. Or . . . a better man. A braver man. A man who might actually be worthy of her.

Anna really asked pretty damn little of him, and if she wanted him with her tonight—damn it, he should have gone. And he should be there to support Lucky. And if Mike had a problem with seeing Anna with him, hell—he’d deal with it, that simple.

And then it hit him anew. Anna Romo was in love with him. That was a goddamn miracle. And he’d been about to walk away from that? That seemed like the craziest thing of all.

I can do this. I can be the man she deserves. I can trust in this. I can trust in . . . her.

Looked like they were no longer taking admission fees, so Duke rode on in, getting closer to the derby arena, and closer to the sounds. He parked his bike at the end of a row of cars and started walking, but he approached slowly. Bleachers lined two sides of the rectangular arena—from which mud was flying as one car struggled in place, spinning its wheels. Must have lost the transmission.

He’d go find Anna in the crowd soon, but first . . . well, he just wanted to watch for a minute, get used to being this close to the sounds of cars crashing into each other. He moved toward one end, where only a few spectators stood—and his heart beat faster.

He couldn’t identify most of the drivers because they all wore helmets, but he recognized Lucky’s motorcycle helmet in—holy crap—a ridiculous bright green monstrosity he’d have to give him hell about later. The car—which he now saw bore the name of Lucky’s business—was located at the same end of the arena where Duke stood and, traveling in reverse, it slammed into the fender of an old-as-the-hills Impala that he guessed was sponsored by the Whippy Dip judging from the number of badly spray-painted ice cream cones all over the sides.

The collision was close enough to make Duke flinch, make his breath catch
. Shit. But it’s all right. It’s fine. It’s just a demo derby. Calm the hell down.

The derby went on, a dozen or so cars smashing and bashing into each other, and the fact was—it bothered him. It kept his nerves on edge, his chest tight.
But you’ll deal with it. And you’ll get past it.

When an old station wagon complete with panel sides backed hard into a Chrysler at the opposite end, it couldn’t pull away—their bumpers had gotten attached in the impact. Duke had to laugh watching the two cars pull each other back and forth trying to get apart, and soon a whistle sounded, signaling the drivers to stop, and a guy with a country twang announced, “We’re gonna give the fellers who done been eliminated a chance to get outta their cars. Meanwhile, Larry, walk up there and see if ya can’t get those two unhooked.”

When the action started up again a minute later—the two cars free from each other thanks to Larry, who looked to be the closest thing they had to a referee—Duke decided to go find his girl. Examining the crowd, he thought he located Tessa and Amy—which would make the dark-haired beauty with them his Daisy. Starting to walk that way, he grew eager to see the expression on her beautiful face when she realized he’d come.

But the gasp of the crowd halted his steps, and a glance back revealed a heavy plume of gray smoke billowing up from the engine of the Chrysler at the far end of the arena. The fire truck sat at that end, too, and he watched as Logan Whitaker, in full gear, along with two other firemen, ran out to the Chrysler, fire hose in hand. Someone near him said it was the car Jeremy Sheridan was driving.

And that was when a bright flash to his left drew his gaze to Lucky’s lime green car. Fire under the engine, coming out the bottom. Where no one up in the stands or announcer’s box could see it yet. Shit.

Working on pure instinct, Duke leapt the concrete barrier separating him from the field and ran toward the car, yelling, “Lucky, fire! Get out of the car! Fire under the car! Get out!”

Lucky looked up at him, and though Duke couldn’t see his face through the helmet, he seemed to understand and reached for his seat belt. Only—he wasn’t getting out. Why not?
Get the hell out, man.
But then Duke realized—Lucky’s seat belt was stuck and he was fighting with it.

Smoke poured from under the hood now—and then orange flames shot from each side of the hood as well. As people in the crowd began to react, Duke heard Tessa screaming, “Lucky!
Lucky!
”

And he sensed the firemen on their way, but he wasn’t waiting on them—he couldn’t. Lucky continued to fight with the belt as Duke ran to the car, yanked the door open, wrapped both fists around the base of the seat belt, and ripped it clean out of the dilapidated old floor. Then he grabbed Lucky by the shirt and hauled him from the car so violently that they both hit the ground a few feet away—at the very moment flames came from under the dashboard to engulf the front seat.

The two of them pushed themselves up and got farther away—just as the firemen arrived to hose the Skylark down. It took only a minute for the flames to be extinguished, and though Duke was braced for an explosion, it never came.

The next thing he knew, Tessa and Anna were both leaping over the concrete partitions and barreling through the thick, damp dirt toward them. Lucky’s helmet was off by the time Tessa arrived with tears streaming down her face, throwing her arms around him. And then he caught a glimpse of little Johnny running toward his dad, too.

Just as he realized Anna was running toward
him
.

For some reason, he’d thought it was Lucky she was coming for, but then he remembered—
she loves me
—about the time she connected with him so hard that they both fell down into the mud. “Duke, my God! Thank God you’re okay! And thank God you got Lucky out! Thank God you were here!”

Then she pulled back just slightly, lying on top of him, to say, “You’re here. You came.” As if that part had just hit her.

He nodded. “Because I love you, too.”

She blinked prettily, her eyes round with shock. “You what?”

“I love you, too, Daisy. I’d have been a fool to leave you. I mean . . . what the hell am I looking for when I’ve got everything a man could want right here?”

Anna just lay there, blinking, trying to understand what was happening. Smoke, fire, mud, danger, Duke, and her dreams coming true all in the space of about thirty seconds was a lot to grasp. “My God,” she heard herself murmur—and then she kissed him, right there in front of all of Destiny.

Though whether anyone noticed or not, given all the hubbub, was difficult to say. The firemen were yelling to each other, and more people came barreling into the arena to make sure everyone was okay.

As she and Duke got to their feet, she caught sight of Mike pulling Lucky into a hard hug. A few seconds after that, Lucky was grabbing on to Duke’s arm to say, “Second time, man. Second time.” She knew he meant it was the second time Duke had saved his life.

“Just happy I was here, brother,” Duke told him.

And Tessa, her face still tearstained but smiling, said, “Let’s just hope the second time’s the charm in this case.” Then she smacked Lucky’s chest, even as she hugged him with her other arm, adding, “And that you quit getting yourself into dangerous situations.”

And that was when Anna heard Mike’s voice. “You two? Together? Really?”

She turned to find him staring, of course, at her and Duke. And as much as she’d come to appreciate him, she was definitely in no mood for his meddling, so she pointed a menacing finger in his direction and said, “Listen, don’t even think about having a problem with this because—”

“Stop,” he said, holding out both hands in a calming gesture. “I’m shocked as hell, but I’m not mad.”

Okay, things were getting downright surreal now. Her jaw dropped as she murmured, “Huh?”

“Shit, he just saved Lucky’s life—again. He can freaking marry you if he wants to.”

Oh God—did he really just say that?
Heat climbed her cheeks as she rushed to reply. “Uh, you might be rushing things a little there. Don’t scare him off.”

But then Duke winked at her. “I’m not scared, Daisy,” he told her. “I’m not scared of anything.”

And Anna decided it was time to get back to business. Lucky was safe, Mike was uncharacteristically acceptant, all was well with her family—so she took the opportunity to press her hands to Duke’s chest and push him gently back a few steps, away from the crowd and the burnt-out car.

She looked up into his eyes and said, “So . . . what does this mean? I mean, are you . . . really not leaving?”

“I’m really not. I . . . wanna be with you. I wanna take care of the house with you. I wanna make you happy, Anna. If I can.”

Her heart felt like a flower blossoming in her chest, like it was stretching, opening wide. “You just did.”

He gave her the sexy grin she loved—and she realized she even loved his scar now because it was part of the man she adored. “Well, I don’t know about you, but . . . I’ve already had enough socializing for the night—I’ll give that another shot another time. Right now, I just wanna go home and . . . push you in that swing, and eat your blackberry cobbler, and trip over your damn cat, and . . . make love to you under the stars.”

Anna just blinked. Okay, who
was
this masked man? “I’ve never heard you call it making love before.”

He skimmed his knuckles down her arm. “Guess you . . . soften my rough edges a little, Daisy.”

“You’ve softened me, too . . . David. Let’s go start on that list you just gave me. I want to do the last one first.”

“ . . . and now I want to live like everybody else.”

Gaston Leroux,
The Phantom of the Opera

Epilogue

A
nna took her latest blackberry cobbler out of the oven, pleased with the purply, hot bubbles erupting through the top. It would be the perfect dessert for a crisp fall day.

As she lowered the dish to one of the gingham potholders from Amy, she heard a car door and knew they were here. Walking to the front door with Erik on her heels, she saw Duke helping Cathy out of the Mustang—then watched as the older woman beamed at the house. “Oh, it’s wonderful, just wonderful,” Anna heard her say.

She bent to scoop her loving kitty up into her arms, then stepped out onto the front porch. But Cathy didn’t see her yet, because Duke was busy showing her some of the details. “I made this sign, and painted the mailbox.” Then he pointed toward the maple tree, a bright, vibrant orange at the moment. “And that’s your old swing hanging there,” he said.