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“Well there you go, then. Plus, saying words like that out loud will get you in even more trouble.”
She sighed.
“Do you think you owe Marley and his dad an apology?”
Her big eyes looked at his for long seconds, and then she nodded. He watched her drag her feet over to where Marley and his dad were. Watched in case that shithead Lindel didn’t accept the apology, because if not, he’d be on him in seconds. Grace came back frowning.
“How’d that go for you?” Luke asked.
“I said sorry, and Marley’s dad said ‘the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.’ I don’t understand that though, ’cause I’m not a tree.”
Luke got to his feet. “You stay with Uncle Jack now, sweetheart, and work on our pumpkin. I’ll be right back.”
“Whistle if you need backup. I’ll be watching.” Jack’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. Anger darkened the green depths. Luke felt it, but he kept his expression calm for the kids.
“Will do. You look after these three.”
The thing about a reputation in a small town: it was really hard to shake, even years later. Most people had moved on from the days when Joe, Jack, and Luke were bad boys. Some still held grudges. Lindel and his parents thought they were a whole lot better than Trainers even now.
“Lindel.”
The man got to his feet. He was one of those bull-necked guys. Not overly tall, but solid. He and Luke had ignored each other since school; seemed that was about to change.
“Don’t appreciate you telling my niece the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree when she’s trying to apologize to you, Lindel.” He kept his voice down so the man’s son didn’t hear what he was saying.
“She didn’t understand.”
“I did, and I didn’t like it.”
“Luke!”
He saw that Mrs. Harper was heading his way.
“Don’t ever speak to me or mine with anything but respect again, Lindel. I hope we’re clear on that? Because we may be going with respectable these days, but we still have that whole other side to our natures to call on if need be.”
“You threatening me, Trainer?”
“No. Just telling it like it is.”
The man didn’t say anything more, just went back to helping his son with his pumpkin. Luke walked away.
“Hey, Mrs. Harper. How’s your husband and Quinn doing?”
“They’re fine, dear, thanks to your heroics. I just wanted to bring you these. Quinn insisted I make them for you as a thank-you for saving her life.”
“Ah, thanks.” He took the container she thrust at him.
“They’re pumpkin and chocolate chip cookies.” She smiled. “Quinn wanted to make sure you got them while they were warm.” Her hand patted his arm. “She’s shy and wanted me to deliver them.”
She wore a velvet tracksuit in seal fur gray. Her feet were in running shoes. Basically a standard outfit for some of the older members of the community.
“You be sure to let her know if you like them.”
He didn’t know what to say to that. Luke didn’t know Quinn, but she hadn’t struck him as someone who would want him to have cookies as a thank-you. Odd, he thought. But then who was he to judge, seeing as he now had cookies, even pumpkin-flavored ones.
“Must dash, I need to get back. She’s so good and helpful, my daughter. Always overworking. I need to get back so she takes a break. She’ll have tonight’s dinner already prepared.”
This entire conversation was odd. Why was she telling him this stuff?
