“These things happen, especially where Dean is concerned.” Dr. Bentley smiles a little sadly. He turns toward the window, looking out on the backyard. Sunlight is streaming through the trees.
“Dean was always the adventurer. I suspect that’s why he’s risen in the military so quickly. There’s nothing he won’t volunteer for, nothing he won’t try. It’s a miracle he wasn’t injured overseas. I spent most of his childhood patching him up after his big stunts.” He takes a drag from the pipe, his eyes shadowed. “He wants to make the world safe for the people he loves. It’s a trait that Peter will inherit, I suspect.”
I picture my brave, stubborn grandfather, who has never given up on trying to discover the truth of what happened to his father. “I know he has.”
Dr. Bentley straightens. “What do you say you and I have some breakfast? I’ve been eyeing the leftover pie Mrs. Bentley made last night. But fair warning—I make no promises if she catches us. In fact, I’ll most likely blame it all on you.”
“That would be great.” I smile weakly. Why, why did I chicken out yesterday? Why didn’t I tell Dean the truth when I had the chance? Now he’s gone before I had a chance to stop him. He’s probably inside the Facility already, preparing for a doomed mission. How am I going to save him now?
“It’s every man for himself in the trenches.” Dr. Bentley walks out of the study. We’re almost to the kitchen when a honking noise has us both turning toward the window.
“Looks like Lucas is here,” Dr. Bentley says.
I open the front door. Lucas is standing on the bottom step. His eyes are hard and his mouth is pulled tight at the corners. “Lydia. I was hoping I could talk with you.”
“Of course.” I smile tentatively and open the door wider.
He shakes his head. “I don’t want to come inside.”
“All right.” I close the door behind me and follow him onto the lawn. It’s sunny out and starting to get warm.
Lucas stops next to his truck. “Is anyone here?” he asks.
“Mary and Mrs. Bentley went to church. Dr. Bentley is still inside.”
He nods, then leans against the door of the truck.
“Lucas, is everything okay?”
“Are you stuck on Smith?” he blurts out.
I gape at him. “Stuck on …? Do you mean am I with Wes?”
He looks at me, waiting for an answer. His cheeks are even pinker than normal.
I laugh nervously and run my fingers through my messy curls. “Why are you asking me this?”
He crosses his arms over his chest. “I saw you with him last night. Dancing. Running off into the woods. I saw the way he looked at you.” His voice is filled with hostility. It dawns on me that although Lucas is easygoing, he wears all of his emotions on his sleeve, including anger.
I look down at my bare feet. I didn’t have time to put on shoes, and the gravel from the driveway is digging into my toes. I’m still angry with Wes, still hurt, but I can’t deny my feelings—even if he doesn’t feel the same way.
“Yes,” I say softly. “I think I am.”
Lucas’s mouth falls open. “What? What about … I thought …” He trails off, looking shocked.
My voice is small. “I’m sorry, Lucas. Wes and I … it’s really complicated.”
He sighs. “I told you I wanted to get to know you better. I thought you wanted that too.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I should have told you last night.”
He takes a step toward me. “I know I didn’t invent this.” He waves his hand back and forth in the air between our bodies.
“I didn’t know how you felt until last night. I should have said something then, but I didn’t want to hurt you....”
“You only met him a few days ago!” Lucas exclaims, apparently forgetting that I only met him a few days ago too.
“It doesn’t matter.”
He makes a noise in his throat. His blue eyes are burning as he asks, “What about me?”
I bite my lip. If I had met Lucas in my own time, I might have fallen for him. And I can’t deny that a small part of me is attracted to his easy charm. He made life simpler when I desperately needed it to be. But there was always Mary—and Wes—between us. It could never work.
I don’t want to upset Lucas, but I can’t give him hope that I might change my mind either. The whole situation reminds me of my relationship with Grant. I realize now that Hannah was right—I should have been honest with him from the beginning. I’m always saying that the truth is worth knowing, even if it hurts. Maybe it’s time for me to start practicing what I preach.
I push my shoulders back and face Lucas. “I’m sorry.” My tone is firm. “I’m falling in love with Wes, and I … don’t feel the same about you.”
His eyes shut.
“Lucas.” I say his name like a plea. “Trust me when I tell you there’s a great girl out there for you. I know that for a fact.”
“But she’s not you,” he says softly.
I shake my head slowly. Then I make a choice, one I know Wes wouldn’t approve of. “You should think about … Mary.”
He opens his eyes. “Mary?”
I nod. “Mary.”
He raises one hand to scratch the back of his neck. “Mary?” he asks again.
I laugh a little, trying to break the tension. “You can’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.”
“I mean, I guess … I just never really …” He looks up and I see that some of the disappointment has left his face, replaced by a thoughtful expression. “Mary?”
We’re interrupted by the sound of an approaching car. Lucas and I both step back as Mrs. Bentley pulls into the driveway. As soon as the car rolls to a stop, Mary hops out of the passenger side. Mrs. Bentley gets out too
