her. I’m sorry. But don’t let her death define you. You are young. Move on and live a long and happy life. Don’t wallow in misery like I’ve done. I’ve cheated my wife out of my last years and my sons out of a father. I hear you’ve bought interest in the Magnolia Inn. I’m glad to see that you’re trying to move on.”
“I should have gone into town that night. I should have spent more time with her. I shouldn’t have worked late,” Tucker said.
Luke laid his hand on Tucker’s knee. “Could have. Should have. Would have. That’s all in the past. Take a lesson from an old man who’s made too many mistakes. Move on out of the pain and be happy. It’s too late for me now, but you’re still a young man. And accept my apologies for trying to talk Melanie out of marryin’ you because you were a cop. You gave her years of happiness and joy, and I’m grateful to you for that.”
“Accepted, but it’s hard to move on after everything you had was so perfect,” Tucker said.
“Sounds like a country song,” Luke said. “It would sure be nice if you’d come to the dinner on Saturday. Bring your partner with you. We’d like to meet her. You know I’ve got two sons that still aren’t married.” He managed a weak grin.
“Can’t make any promises—we’ve got plans. But if we get through early, we might pop in for a few minutes.” Tucker laid a hand on the tombstone and then stood up. “How often do you come here?”
“Every day. Sometimes more than once. I’ve begged for her forgiveness for tryin’ to talk her out of marryin’ you, but I don’t feel like it’s happened yet,” Luke said.
“In my opinion, she forgave you years ago.” Tucker gave Luke’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Take care of yourself.”
Tucker drove a few blocks away from the cemetery and pulled into the parking lot of a trucking business. He laid his head on the steering wheel. The sobs racked his body and tears dripped onto the legs of his jeans. “Why couldn’t we have forty years, darlin’?”
You can still have it if you’ll let me go, Melanie fussed at him again. I can’t do it for you, but I sent you the strongest messenger I’ve got today. Listen to Daddy.
He raised his head and dried his face, blending his tears with her father’s on the bandanna. “I’ll try, but it can’t be with Jolene. We’re partners. If it fell apart, we’d have a hell of a situation.”
Armed with a recipe for blueberry muffins, Jolene left her room to check and be sure that she had everything in the inn to make them. Sure enough, there were just enough berries in the refrigerator, and all the other ingredients were in the pantry.
She picked up a bottle of water and carried it to the living room with Sassy right behind her. The cat jumped up on the sofa beside her and inched her way into Jolene’s lap.
“You have a stubborn master.” Jolene rubbed her long fur.
“Yes, she did,” Tucker said from the doorway.
Jolene had never known a man who walked as quietly as he did. She didn’t answer—just shot a look over toward him. “So do you still need a drink, or did you have three or four before you left?”
“Sassy was Melanie’s cat to start with, and you’re right. She could be as stubborn as the proverbial Missouri mule. Ever wonder why one from that state would be worse than, say, one from Texas?”
“No, and you didn’t answer my question,” she said.
“I didn’t have the drink. I poured it, but . . .” He removed his coat and hung it over the back of a rocking chair before he sat down in a recliner and popped up the footrest. “I went to the cemetery to talk to Melanie. Her dad, Luke, was there. I need a friend, Jolene. Not a therapist. Not a partner. A friend.”
“Me, too,” she whispered. “So what happened with her father?”
“He told me to move on, that Melanie would want me to, but I’m afraid if I do that I’ll lose the memories I have of her,” he said.
His eyes were bloodshot, but she believed him when he said he hadn’t had a drink. She’d swear to that. She knew the difference in eyes that had been crying and those that were caused by too much liquor.