Luke had never thought he’d say those particular words. Since he’d grown up poor, he’d thought, for as long as he could remember, that money could buy him happiness. Not that he needed a lot. Just enough to get by and give himself a little nest egg so he wouldn’t have to work until he was ninety. But he’d changed his mind. Katie Kinkaid had seen to that.

Ralph Sorenson, on the other end of the line, and woken from what must have been a deep sleep, wasn’t in the mood for Luke’s change of heart. “You earned it, boy. It’s yours.”

“ No.”

“What the devil happened to you?”

I fell in love. “I just had a change of heart.” That wasn’t a lie.

“You’re just mad ’cause I called my grandson’s mother before squarin’ it with you,” Ralph said. “Well, I admit I was a little impatient, but then you’ve got to understand there’s no reason to wait. That boy is Dave’s son. Our grandson. It’s time we met.”

“I don’t think that’ll be a problem.”

“So you’ll get paid.”

“Give it to Josh,” Luke said. “I’m out of this. Good night Ralph.”

“Well, ain’t that a fine howdy-do?” The old man hung up and Luke felt only slightly better than he had a while before. He strode to the window and stared into the night. He’d never gotten used to living in town and the blue glare of the streetlights seemed harsh and unforgiving.

Just the way he felt. Staring at the huge apartment house as if it were an enemy, he tilted back his bottle of beer and took a long swallow. He thought of Katie, and deep inside there was an ache—something primal and painful and, in his estimation, way out of line. So she was a beautiful woman. So she had an outlook on life he found fascinating. So what? Disgusted with himself, he drained his long-neck, considered another, then tossed the idea aside.

Alcohol wouldn’t help. Not that it ever had.

His conscience was eating him alive. What he’d done to her was unforgivable, and calling and telling Ralph that he was out of the deal was hardly compensation enough. Nope, his refusal of Ralph’s bribe was just another incidence of too little, too late.

Which seemed to be the story of his life.

* * *

“Where’s Luke?” Bliss had asked.

Tiffany, too, hadn’t let Luke’s absence go unnoticed. “I thought he was coming.”

“I specifically invited him,” John Cawthorne had grumbled. “Helluva way to act, if ya ask me.”