Page 67 of Tracking Safety

“Good morning.” Ruby moved to the coffee maker and grabbed a mug from the cabinet.

“Grandma!” Cora ran and gave her a hug.

“Good morning, Bug. How’d you sleep?”

“Good—especially now that Mom’s back!”

Ruby smiled tentatively and glanced at Jenna.

“Can we go play on the screened porch?” Cora asked her grandma then Jenna.

“Of course, sweetie,” Ruby told her before rubbing her head.

The kids hurried outside, letting the door bang behind them.

The kitchen went quiet.

Ruby stood beside Jenna a moment, and Jenna felt the older woman assessing the scene.

“Liam’s not up yet,” Jenna said, as if she needed to account for his absence.

“He sleeps later than the other two.” Ruby poured herself a cup of coffee. “He always has, hasn’t he? Even as a baby, he was never a morning person.”

“It’s true.” Jenna turned her pancake. “He gets that from Luke.”

“He does.” Ruby smiled. “He also gets the part where, once he decides he trusts you, there’s nothing in the world he won’t do for you.” She paused. “But he has to decide it himself. Nobody can talk him into it.”

Jenna understood she wasn’t only talking about Liam.

She rinsed the last dish and turned to face Luke’s mom. “Ruby⁠—”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me.” Ruby offered another soft smile. “I mean that. I’m not saying it because I want you to feel better. I’m saying it because it’s true.”

“But . . .” Jenna didn’t even know what to say—only that she felt like she should object, that she should still pay some type of penance.

“I know you, Jenna,” Ruby continued. “I’ve known you since you were a young woman trying very hard not to need anybody. You’ve been carrying your grief and guilt for entirely too long now.”

Jenna looked at the counter, trying to hold herself together.

“I’m not saying it wasn’t hard for the kids. It was. It was the hardest thing they’ve been through, and that’s the truth.” Ruby’s voice didn’t soften or sharpen. “But hard things don’t always mean the person who caused them is without reason. And pain doesn’t always mean the story is over.”

Jenna pressed her lips together and said nothing.

“Give Luke time.” Ruby picked up her mug again. “I know that’s not easy to hear. But he’s been through an emotional firestorm, him and those kids too. What you’ve been through—that’s its own kind of fire. Healing just doesn’t happen on a schedule. Luke is stubborn. He comes by it honestly. But he loves deeply, and that doesn’t just turn off because something broke.”

Footsteps sounded on the stairs.

Ruby glanced toward the doorway, and her expression shifted. “That’s him.”

Sure enough, a moment later, Luke appeared in the doorway.

He was dressed in jeans and a work shirt, his hair still damp from a shower.

Something about the sight of him like that caused a knot to form in her throat. It made Jenna want to scoot closer. To remember the feeling of his arms around her. To smell his cologne.

All things she’d lost the right to do.

But the desire was still there, and it was so strong it made her bones ache.