Page 67 of More Than This Land

“Probably.” She tucked her arm around his and walked with him to the driver’s side door. “I’m not sure I care right now.”

He smiled and kissed her temple. “I’ll call Hank’s Towing. Let him deal with it while you ride back with me.”

“I like that plan.” She popped onto her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “Thank you for coming after me. I’m sorry I made it a big deal. I can’t promise I’ll never let my emotions run away with me, but I can promise that I love you.”

Hearing her say the words brought a spot of blinding joy that bled into every part of his heart and mind. He could barely talk to Hank because of the smile stretching his cheeks, so he kept it short and all business, rattling off the mile marker and the car’s tag so Hank would know he had the right vehicle.

Once Hank promised to be there in thirty minutes, he hung up and guided Claire to his truck, opening the passenger door and helping her up before circling to the driver’s side.

Claire slid across the bench seat until she pressed against his side, and his arm came around her automatically, like they’d been doing this for years. She tucked her head against his shoulder with a contented sigh.

“I have a confession.” Her fingers played with the button on his shirt, and she stared hard at the movement. “I’ve been imagining what this would feel like. Being with you like this. Getting to touch you.”

Heat flooded Luke’s face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She tilted her head to look at him.

“Then I have a confession too.” He ran his fingers through her hair. Once. Twice. Three times. “I’ve been wanting to do this for weeks. How is it so soft?”

Her laughter trickled out, and he couldn’t resist kissing her one more time while they waited.

They kissed until headlights appeared in the rearview mirror and a deep horn blared, signaling the tow truck’s arrival. Hank was efficient and professional, asking minimal questions while he hooked up Claire’s car. Luke gave him the address for the garage in Covenant Creek and then they were alone again on the side of the highway with nothing but starlight and each other.

He cranked the truck. “Ready to go home?”

“Yes.” Claire kissed him, soft and sweet. “More than ready.”

The drive to Covenant Creek had none of the frantic rush of the trip toward Billings. It was unlike any drive he’d ever experienced. Claire sat beside him, her hand in his, and talked about everything and nothing. She told him about Robert Thomas’ surprise when she turned down the job, the moment in the conference room when she’d realized she was in the wrong place, and about calling Granny Mama from the parking garage to tell her she was coming home.

Luke told her about the ranch meeting that had turned into an intervention, including Dad’s story about him and Mom. He even managed to admit—without letting pride shut him down—about driving north with his heart in his throat and a prayer he couldn’t articulate beyond her name.

The miles disappeared, the distance between Billings and home rushing faster than he thought possible. When the lights of Covenant Creek appeared on the horizon, he let the weight of it all crash over him, then lift. They’d done it. They had faced the hard thing and come out the other side as better people and, God willing, a couple.

“I should take you straight to Granny Mama’s.” He slowed as they entered town. “She’s probably worried.”

“She told me to take my time.” Claire’s smile turned mischievous. “And I’m starving.”

“Well, then. What do you say about going on a date at the Brand Iron?”

“Our first official date?” She tapped her finger against her chin, her smile widening. “I’d say sign me up for a steak and potatoes.”

Luke turned onto Main Street. The Brand Iron Diner appeared on the right, its windows warm and welcoming in the spring darkness. The parking lot was full. Unusually full for a Tuesday night.

His stomach dropped. “Claire.”

“What?”

He pulled into the lot and put the truck in park. Through the diner windows, a sea of familiar faces. Mom and Dad sat at one table. Caleb, Graham, and Noah at another. Rachael Bennett and Agnes Pruitt shared a booth. People from church and the community programs crammed into Miss Jo’s diner.

And they were all watching the parking lot.

“Oh no.” Claire’s hand flew to her mouth, but she laughed so hard her shoulders shook. “Did you tell anyone you were going to Billings?”

“No. You?”

“Just Granny Mama.”

“And Granny Mama talks to everyone.”