Deconstructing Luka
Part Six
By Miesque
miesque@looksmart.com

SYNOPSIS: Daisy and Luka start northeastwards, discuss finishing schools, French literature and unpleasant boyfriends. And, at last, this series has the conclusion we've all been hoping for. At least, I've been hoping for this ending. Took me long enough to get to it, though.

DISCLAIMER: The character of Luka Kovac is the sole property of NBC, Warner Bros., Amblin Entertainment and Constant C.

SONGS: "Gimme Three Steps", by Lynyrd Skynyrd. (Thanks, Anonymous!); "In My Life", by the Beatles.
"Dear Prudence", by The Beatles; "Flowers On The Wall", by the Statler Brothers.

QUOTE: Psalm 127:3-5 (KJV)

VERSE: by Jean Racine, 17th century, from "Phèdre". (Thanks to Canada for finding the verse amd translation for me):

A PERSONAL NOTE: If TPTB don't hook Luka up with Kerry, they could at least find a girl like Daisy for our hero!

BIG BOUQUET OF ROSES (Stop sneezing) TO: Canada and Anonymous for all their wonderful suggestions and ideas, and to Ellen Hursh for editing. It is easily said that I have the best darned editing team around. Couldn't have done it without y'all!

"Were you born in El Paso?" Luka asked her. He was leaning heavily against the car door, his head resting on a pillow, yawning and stretching like a big cat. They had just blown out of Teec Nos Pos, Arizona, the last city before they reached Four Corners and Colorado.

"Yeah. July the eleventh, nineteen-seventy-four."

He nodded and closed his eyes.

"When's your birthday?" she asked.

"September ninth...nineteen-sixty-four."

"Oh yeah...you said you were thirty-six. You're a Virgo?"

"Beats me. Don't believe in that crap."

She smiled. It had taken her a few minutes to adjust the driver's seat. God, the man had such long legs. She was about five-ten, but that didn't change the fact that he was half a foot taller, and it was only after several minutes of shifting about that she was able to reach the gas and break pedals comfortably. She took off her moccasins and tested both pedals with her bare feet.

"Isn't it against the law to drive barefooted?" Luka asked, yawning again.

"Sort of. But I can have these shoes back on in a matter of seconds. So if you don't tell, they'll never know."

He opened one eye and glared at her. She just smiled back.

I was cuttin' the rug down at a place called 'The Jug' with a girl named Linda Lou
When in walked a man with a gun in his hand
he was looking for you know who.
He said "Hey there fellow with the hair colored yellow, watcha tryin' to prove?
Cuz' this is my woman there and I'm a man who cares and this might be all for you"

(I said "Excuse me!")

I was scared and fearing for my life
shaking like a leaf on a tree
Cuz' he was lean and mean and big and bad, Lord, pointing that gun at me

I said "Wait a minute mister, I didn't even kiss her. Don't want no trouble with you.
And I know you don't owe me but I wish you would let me ask one favor from you:
Say won't you

Gimme three steps, gimme three steps mister,
gimme three steps toward the door?
Gimme three steps, gimme three steps mister
and you'll never see me no more."

Well the crowd cleared away and I began to pray and the water fell down to the floor
and I'm telling you, son, it ain't no fun,
staring straight down a forty-four.

Well, he turned and screamed at Linda Lou,
and that's the break I was looking for
and you could hear me screaming a mile away
as I was headed out toward the door.

Gimme three steps, gimme three steps mister,
gimme three steps toward the door?
Gimme three steps, gimme three steps mister
and you'll never see me no more."

(I'm gonna get the hell out of Dodge)

Luka was pacing around the parking lot of a 7-11 somewhere in southwestern Colorado, wishing yet again that he had a cigarette. But Daisy wouldn't let him inside a convenience store, for fear he'd sneak around and buy a pack of Marlboros. So he was growing impatient and overheated in the summer sun. She sure was taking her time in there.

Daisy was buying some basic groceries-more milk and orange juice for Luka, bread and bologna, some questionable-looking apples and red grapes, and nutrition bars. She was trying to hurry, but she was checking prices. She could almost hear him griping: "What, were you taken hostage?"

As she made her way to the counter, a good-looking man sidled up beside her. "Hey," he grinned.

"Hi," she answered, looking him up and down for a moment. Kind of handsome, in a craggy Irish way. Dark, graying hair, twinkling blue eyes, about six inches shorter than Luka, and nowhere near as gorgeous. He had an annoying 'look at me, I'm so cute' head-bobbing thing going on. Some women would have found it sexy. It only made Daisy want to tell him to grow up.

"I've never seen you around here before."

"I don't doubt it," she answered. "I'm from Texas."

"Oh. Texas. Cool. Ever been to Colorado before?"

"Yes."

"Are you here alone?"

She glared at the guy as she pulled the money out of her pocket. Just then, over Bobbing Head Guy's shoulder, she saw Luka come through the doors. He didn't look happy, that was for sure.

Bobbing Head was just inches from Daisy, very obviously putting the moves on her. That did not seem to please Luka. In fact, a wary expression, with a glimmer of hell-fire in it, crossed his face and he strode forward.

"Let's go, Linda Lou," he said sharply.

The guy turned around to challenge Luka, but only came face to upper chest with the tall Croatian. That seemed to give him pause, because Luka was glaring down at him from his great height.

"Sorry...I'm sorry, man. I didn't know..."

Luka glanced at the cashier, who nervously handed Daisy her change. He took her arm and gently propelled her out of the store.

Daisy had to contain herself a great deal, to keep from laughing. Luka Kovac was a sweet, gentle man in most cases, but good Lord, he knew how to be menacing. His muscles weren't strong, she figured, but that hardly matters if you know how to scare the hell out of people just by standing there.

"Well, it seems the Green-Eyed Monster has reared his ugly head," Daisy said, stalking past him to the car.

"Sure, Dais'. Whatever," he said, getting in, banging the door shut, and slumping down in the seat. He exhaled slowly, regaining his composure.

Daisy adjusted the mirror, asked Luka to move the side mirror a little so the blind side wasn't quite so blind, and started the engine.

"This car," she said. "Is like driving a boat."

"You don't drive boats," Luka corrected her. "You sail boats. You drive cars. And slaves."

"Very funny. Would you like a Coke or something?"

"Sprite'd be good," he answered. "Caffeine free, please."

She had put the cooler in between them, to keep the stomach medicine for Luka, along with cold drinks. He accepted the Sprite and popped the can open. Daisy backed the Caddy out of the parking space, narrowly missing the car beside them.

"Try again. I'm sure that you could hit it if you improve your aim a little," he dead-panned.

"Oh, hush," she said. "I'm 'sailing' this thing as well as I can. It's a veritable ocean liner."

He snorted. "Cast to port, set the sails to catch the mistrals...we're headin' northeast."

She smiled sadly, pointed the Cadillac to points northeast, and gunned the engine. "I'm not as fast a driver as you, Luka," she said.

"Yeah. It'll take you at least a week to get us to Chicago. It would have taken me...four days, tops."

She glanced at him and sighed. Didn't he realize that once they got to Chicago it would be over between them? How could he be joking about it?

"You seem to be having trouble sailing this thing," Luka said, yawning.

"It's not fair," she answered testily. "I keep drifting to starboard, no matter how hard I try to hold the wheel steady."

"Women can't handle Cadillacs," Luka muttered.

That got him a sharp whack on the arm, but he grinned at her. "You're too small for it."

"I am not. I'm just six inches shorter than you, and that's tall for a woman."

"Yeah...but people are always asking me how the weather is up here."

She laughed. "Me too. I was the tallest girl in my graduating class."

"What about the girls on the basketball team?"

"Didn't have a girls' basketball team. The most physical we got was learning how to walk with a dictionary on our heads."

He looked at her, curious. "What?"

"Finishing school...sort of. El Paso has some good old families, and I was unfortunate enough to have been born into one of them. So I was sent to New Orleans for two summers in a row to learn how to be a lady. I had to learn how to distinguish between a salad fork and a shrimp fork. Sit correctly. Walk correctly. Speak correctly. During the school year we practiced."

"Oh."

"During that time, of course, I roped steers and rode fences and..."

"Rode fences?" He sat up again, wondering if his grasp of English was really that bad.

"I mean...we'd ride our horses along the fencelines, checking for cut lines and such."

"Oh."

"Deportment classes, they were called. Essential to the life of every Southern girl with quality bloodlines. I learned how to organize a dinner party for twenty with just fifteen minutes' notice. I can hem a dress, cook a fine meal..."

"And dance a quadrille with a dictionary on your head, eh?" Luka asked, flashing her a lazy grin. He was very sleepy, but he was paying attention to what she was saying.

"Yeah. I bet I can."

"That's a good belle."

"What about you?"

"I didn't take deportment classes, if that's what you're asking," he answered, punching the pillow and then turning the air vents away from himself. She turned the cooling system down a little, noting that he was shivering. "We played rugby and sailed and swam."

"Do you come from a fine old Croatian family?"

"My father was a train conductor. My grandfather was a farmer. My mother worked in the local market. Her parents were farmers. Nothing special about the Kovac family."

"No aristocratic connections?"

"None that I'm aware of."

She didn't believe that, though. With his looks, and his dignity, she was sure he had ties to whatever nobility existed (or used to exist) in his native Croatia. Not that farmers and train conductors don't have plenty of dignity themselves, but Luka seemed so far above such humble antecedents.

"Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

"One brother. Gregor."

"Where is he?"

Luka looked at her a moment, then shrugged. "He lives in Cairo."

"Cairo?" Daisy was trying to make a mental picture of his brother. Probably just as tall, but...just as gorgeous? Impossible, she decided. If he was even half as good-looking, she would have to tell Leah to take a trip to Egypt for some husband-hunting.

"Yeah. He's a writer...or something. I haven't seen him in years. What about you?"

"Three brothers, and a sister, Leah."

"Big family."

"Yeah. Well, actually I also had a little brother, James, who died when he was three. So that would have been four brothers. I don't remember him very much...I was pretty young when he died. He had leukemia."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

Daisy smiled. "I have a picture of him." She pulled her locket out from under her blouse and opened it up. Inside was a tiny picture of her dead baby brother. "Mama gave us all a picture of him, so we could remember him."

Luka looked at the picture and nodded. He pulled his wallet out and showed her the photograph of Marina and Jasna. "My wife and my daughter."

Daisy smiled at the picture. She had already seen it, while looking for phone numbers during his worst fever. She was struck again by how pretty Marina had been, and what a beauty Jasna would have been had she lived. Looking at him, she saw how he was staring down at the picture, rubbing his wife's face with his thumb. Despite his grief, he still seemed to light up when he talked about them.

"I think about them every day." He smiled at her, then looked away. His voice was a little strangled.

"I'm sure you do," she said softly.

Luka briefly met her gaze, but his eyelids were very heavy. He simply couldn't stay awake. Amazing, he thought before he drifted off to sleep. I haven't had a nightmare in more than week.

"Where the hell are we?!" Daisy gasped, staring down at the map. She had folded it to the place where she thought they were, but apparently they were somewhere else entirely.

Luka, feeling vaguely nauseated from inhaling too much boxed air, rolled the window down. She sighed and turned the air conditioner off. "Somewhere in northeastern Arizona, right?"

"No. Colorado. We're in Colorado."

"Oh." He had forgotten where they were a long time ago. It made him miserable to think that they were getting closer and closer to Chicago.

"I've figured out a route...we're heading north, toward Colorado Springs...."

"Are there springs there?" he asked.

"No. Not that I know of."

He stared at her, and finally decided that he'd only get a ridiculous answer. "Then where are we going, once we get out of Colorado No-Springs?"

"East. Across Kansas."

"Sounds delightful," he muttered, putting his head back on the pillow. In a few minutes, he was asleep.

Daisy glared at him for a moment, wishing he could be of some help. She sighed, peered at the map again, and finally decided that she had gotten sidetracked somehow and had ended up in Hesperus, in the Southern Ute Indian Reservation, which was definitely the wrong direction... south. She managed to backtrack up highway 140, hit 160 again and was relieved to see a sign indicating that Durango wasn't too far up the highway. She turned the radio on and hummed along with the Statler Brothers.

Well, now, I been hearin' you're concerned about my happiness
But all a' that thought you're a-givin' me is conscience, I guess
If I was walkin' in your shoes I wouldn't worry none
So you and your friends don't worry 'bout me, I'm havin' lots of fun

Countin' flowers on the wall
That don't bother me at all
Playin' solitaire 'til dawn with a deck of fifty-one
Smokin' cigarettes and watchin' Captain Kangaroo
Now don't tell me I've a-nothin' to do

Last night I dressed in tails prett accustomed to this light
And my boots are not accustomed to this kind a' street
So I must go back to my room and make my day complete

Countin' flowers on the wall
That don't bother me at all
Playin' solitaire 'til dawn with a deck of fifty-one
Smokin' cigarettes and watchin' Captain Kangaroo
Now don't tell me I've a-nothin' to do
A-don't tell me I've a-nothin' to do

Well, she thought. That'll be me when I get back to Texas. Sitting around, counting flowers on the wall, watching TV, playing solitaire.

Miserable.

Luka woke up as the sun was coming up. Daisy had apparently kept driving through the night, not bothering to pull over. She was staring straight ahead, her elbow against the window, rubbing her fingertips against her temple.

She looked lovely. Just like always. It wasn't just her looks that attracted him to her, though. She had always been kind to him, always so patient and understanding of his need for space. Well, maybe she didn't understand it, but she accepted it. She didn't judge him, as far as he could tell. She had her temperamental moments, of course, but in general she was a sweet- natured, gentle, good-hearted woman. Strange, but he still knew very little about her.

Yet now, as he watched her, he had to admit it to himself. He was falling for her. She was too strong for him, and whatever had happened between them during those anguished days and nights back in the cabin, she had broken down his defenses. He needed her. Loved her. So much it hurt. In a few days, they would get to Chicago, she would say goodbye, and he'd never see her again.

Another heartbreak for Luka Kovac. He figured he should be used to that by now. First Marina had been ripped from his side, then Carol Hathaway had walked out of his life without so much as a by-your-leave, and now he was going to lose again.

I should be prepared for stuff like this to happen, he thought. Love is such an awful thing to go through. Sometimes, I wish I didn't have a soul, so I wouldn't hurt. I wish I could be an animal, with no feelings at all. People could walk all over me and I wouldn't mind-I'd just happily go about my business 'til I died, and then there'd be nothing afterwards. Just darkness.

He had been in love with Marina since he was about six, then he had lost her-his soul mate. Then Carol went off to be with her piss-ant "soul mate" in Seattle. Of course, before she left she had made sure to cut a few more holes into Luka's psyche, giving him that shpiel about how he'd find somebody...somebody who'd love him like his wife had loved him. It had only been to make herself feel better, of course. As if Carol had known anything about how he felt, or as if she'd given a damn about it anyway.

Not that he had fallen in love with Carol, really. Now, months after the fact, he was able to reflect on it a little. He had been in love with the idea of having a family again-of having someone who cared about him, that he could protect in return. It was, maybe, the macho European male in him-the part of him that felt the need to protect and shelter women and children from the cruelties of the world. He couldn't help it. Of course, it had turned out that Carol didn't care about him.

Well, Carol was right-he had found someone, after all. Someone he needed. Someone he loved... differently than how he had loved Marina. He would never love anyone that way again, he knew. But he needed Daisy, needed her more than he had ever needed anyone. But she would go away, too, and he'd have to recover again. At least she'd be alive and well somewhere. It wasn't to be, he guessed. He suddenly realized how strange it was-twice he had found himself attached to two dark-haired, ivory-skinned women. Now, he had fallen for a blue-eyed, all-American, golden- blonde woman. Yet the same thing was destined to happen. He would end up alone again.

He felt a wave of despair wash over him. Just like that day back in May, when he'd had that fight with Peter Benton over prioritizing a murderer over a wounded child, then walked in to treat a spoiled brat who wanted to let her baby die. Sometimes, Luka wondered what planet he was on, and how he managed to get himself into such horrible situations. At the end of that day, he'd stood by the El tracks, and for the first time in a long while, had let the darkness take over his soul, before mustering the strength to force it back. He had come to terms with his dark side a long time ago, had learned to integrate it into his life. But that day... that day had been one of his worst.

Now he knew what day would be the worst of all. It would be the day Daisy walked away from him. His pride wouldn't allow him to beg. He would have to let her go. It was her life, her decision. He wouldn't stand in her way. He would have to find some way to live without her.

Watching her, Luka shook his head. He had lost again.

"Luka, are you okay?" she asked him, noting his somber expression.

He shrugged. "I'll be all right," he muttered. Liar, he thought.

There are places I'll remember
All my life though some have changed
Some forever not for better
Some have gone and some remain
All these places have their moments
With lovers and friends I still can recall
Some are dead and some are living
In my life I've loved them all

But of all these friends and lovers
There is no one compares with you
And these memories lose their meaning
When I think of love as something new
Though I know I'll never lose affection
For people and things that went before
I know I'll often stop and think about them
In my life I love you more

Though I know I'll never lose affection
For people and things that went before
I know I'll often stop and think about them
In my life I love you more
In my life I love you more

They stopped at a gas station somewhere near Abilene, Kansas, and Luka walked around a while, wishing again that Daisy would allow him to smoke a cigarette. Strange, but he wasn't having serious withdrawal problems. Still, he did want one every now and then. She also wouldn't let him have a beer. "I'm letting you drink a Dr. Pepper, that should make you happy," she had said. "You're not in good shape, Luka. In fact, I'll bet you don't exercise at all."

He had tried to argue with her, but it was hard to argue against someone who had him pegged so well. He had tried to convince himself that being on his feet for eighteen-hour shifts was good exercise, but he knew it wasn't. Of course, now he was allowing himself to think about getting exercise of a very enjoyable type with Daisy. In his weakened state, however, Luka had to admit that he might not be able to keep up with her.

He was stalking around, looking tired and punchy, when Daisy emerged from the store and saw him. He was still a little unsteady on his feet-kind of wobbly, like a very young, long- legged colt-and she sighed. She had bought a half-gallon of milk and another of orange juice, and more nutrition bars, all for Luka. She had forced him to eat carrot sticks on the trip, eschewing fast food as much as possible. Not only that, she was making him get out of the car sometimes to walk around. Her father had always believed in fresh air and sunshine for his kids. Daisy remembered being the only girl at that New Orleans finishing school with a tan and a windswept look about her.

"Luka?" she called. "You ready to go?"

"Yeah," he nodded. He got in the car and leaned back. He hoped she had gotten him a Milky Way. He was disappointed when she gave him a nutrition bar.

"That has all the vitamins you need, plus some other stuff that you should know about, being a doctor and all. 'Physician, heal thyself'," she quoted, smiling at him.

"I want a Milky Way bar," he grouched.

"No luck," she answered. "As long as I've got you, I intend to make sure you eat well. Look at yourself. You're pale, you're tired, you have a weak constitution...."

"Constitution? Isn't that the boat they have docked up in Boston Harbor?"

She glared at him for a moment. "You know exactly what I mean, Luka Kovac."

"Yes, Mommy," he said, rolling his eyes. She cuffed his arm, but she was smiling.

"You need a bit of care as it is," she said. "Isn't there...anyone in Chicago who looks after you?"

"No. I live alone."

Those words hit her a lot harder than she expected. She knew he lived alone, but she remembered his delirium back at the Grand Canyon, when he said he was so lonely. And scared. God, it must have been awful for him, coming to America, not knowing the language, wrapped up in grief and terror.

"Why aren't you married?" he asked her suddenly.

She started the engine and began backing up slowly, then straightened up and headed east. They were still a long way from Kansas City. It was going to be a long drive in monotonously flat territory. She was sure it'd drive Luka crazy, him being from the rugged coast of Croatia.

"I don't know. I guess I never really found the right guy."

"What did you...want to do when you were a kid? I mean, when you were a little girl, what did you dream about doing with your life?"

"I always wanted to be a photographer. My grandfather gave me a little toy camera when I was six and I was constantly taking pictures of everything, everyone...drove my parents crazy. I caused a herd of Hereford steers to stampede once when the shutter wouldn't stop 'whirring'. It was a complete disaster, but I got some great shots."

He laughed. "Cows are that easily spooked out in this part of the world?"

"Oh, yeah. Most cows are basket cases. It's the sunshine, I think."

"So you never wanted to be a ballerina or any of those other girl things?"

"No."

Luka took a bite of the nutrition bar and made a face, but forced himself to chew it and swallow. "My daughter wanted to be a ballerina. It was all she ever talked about."

There was a strangely comfortable silence between them, just for a moment. Then he cleared his throat.

"Where did you go to college?"

"University of Texas," she answered. "Studied photography, of course, along with history and French literature."

He almost choked on another bite of the bar. "What?"

"Yes. Poésie française," she grinned. "My mother was Cajun..well, sort of...Swedish and Cajun, a really weird mix when you think about it...so she insisted we learn to appreciate France and all things French. So I took French literature. Seemed like a good idea at the time, even though I don't speak French very well at all."

"Amazing how in school, all the language courses revolved around furniture. 'Voici les chaises de mon oncle Raoul, voilà la salle à manger de ma tante Madeleine'. After a while, we were all saying "'Merde alors! On s'en fout.' Hey...recite a poem...if you remember one."

She thought about it a moment, sorting through her mind for a favorite. Glancing at Luka, she suddenly remembered one that applied perfectly to him. "Okay...I recall a verse from Racine."

"Je le vis, je rougis, je pâlis à sa vue;
Un trouble s'éleva dans mon âme éperdue;
Mes yeux ne voyaient plus, je ne pouvais parler;
Je sentis tout mon corps et transir et brûler."

He stared at her a moment, running the translation through his head, remembering the play... "Phèdre"...then raised an eyebrow. "Very impressive. Racine, eh? Which play?"

She blushed, not seeing the corner of his mouth twitch a little. "I don't recall. Do you...speak French?"

"Not really," he lied. Hell, I spent a full year at the Sorbonne. It's either learn French or get spat on by the waiters. "I can get by...slightly. Mainly, my French is of the sort that might get me punched in the face in a bar in Quebec. I'm Latin," Luka answered. "Well, sort of. Slavic. Latin. A bit of Montenegran, some Italian, a few drops of Turkish, a little Greek..."

"Really? Turkish?"

"Way back...way back," he said, rolling his eyes. "The Turks conquered that part of the world, you know. No conquering army ever failed to leave behind a few babies. So I guess I'm what Tito was hoping for. A confusing mix."

"I guess." She smiled at him, watching his expression carefully. Turkish blood. Thus those eyes, and the olive skin. The cheekbones were obviously Slavic. The lines of the face, how well it was drawn...she realized that perhaps he was too beautiful to be of royal blood. Maybe he was more of the ancienne noblesse type.

"So back to the original question. You never married...you're what, twenty-six? Wasn't there anyone you were really serious about?"

Daisy looked away, trying to find some way to discuss it. She knew Luka'd pitch a hell-fit if she told him about Billy. Especially if he ever came face to face with him. "There was a guy...Billy. He was...uh...well, a big mistake, basically. I was twenty-two, just out of college, when I met him. He was great-looking, all right, but he taught me-the hard way-that you can't always judge a book by its cover."

Luka raised an eyebrow. "The hard way? What do you mean, exactly?"

"He...I mean, I was pretty stupid, I guess. It had to be pointed out to me, you know? My brothers... Simon, Joe and Ben...beat the daylights out of him...."

"Why?" Luka asked.

"Billy hit me one day." Unconsciously, she rubbed her left cheek, remembering the black and blue bruise that had stayed there for so long, mocking her stupidity.

"How hard?" he asked, his voice cold.

"Pretty hard. Put me in the hospital, in fact."

Luka's eyes narrowed. "What's this guy's full name, so I can..."

"Billy...Billy Clark. Don't worry. My brothers took care of him already. He spent some time in the hospital, then my dad had him arrested and thrown in the clink. I think he still gets love letters from his old cell-mate." Her attempt at humor, however, fell flat with Luka. There was a strange expression on his face, something between anger and pity.

"I should hope so," Luka said quietly.

"All that time..." She paused, glancing nervously at Luka. She trusted him enough to tell him the story, but it still hurt. She didn't want Luka to think less of her. She was able to do that just fine on her own. "All that time, I thought I was in love with him. I guess I was in love with him. But I was...very young, very stupid..."

"And he broke your heart." His voice was hard.

She nodded briefly. "Even after my brothers took care of him, I was still convinced that he loved me...I guess it was one of those self-esteem issues, you know? 'He hits me 'cause he loves me' or some such crap as that. So Mama packed me off to New Orleans to stay with my grandmother, where I would be far away from him. I got over him. But..." She couldn't continue. She still had a few psychic scars from what Billy had done to her. He had been a tall, lean, golden man, all bronzed and blond. Perfect. Yeah. Right.

Luka knew it was best not to press the issue. But it boggled his mind, to think of anyone hitting Daisy. It made him furious. Throughout his childhood-throughout his life, in fact, Luka had been taught never to even consider striking a woman for any reason. "It's the same as rape," his father had told him. "It's a theft of a woman's dignity. It's a way of making her less. No man-no real man-ever hits a woman. A real man treats a woman with respect and kindness. He treats her like a queen."

"I'm sorry you had to go through that," Luka said quietly.

She wiped her eyes quickly, and flashed him a cheerful smile. "Well, I'm okay now," she said. "That which does not kill you only makes you stronger, you know."

"Yeah..." Luka nodded. He wondered about that sometimes. He had survived a lot, and was in many ways stronger for it, but...

He had come out of his numbness back during the spring, and was feeling again. Since then, things were hitting him so hard, making the effort all the more painful. Getting up, showering, shaving, getting dressed, working: the daily cycle had a wearing effect on him. It was like parts of him were being chipped away for the longest time. Now, he felt like he was being put back together again.

She looked him in the eye for a moment, blushing, feeling ashamed of herself. "I...I shouldn't be talking about something like that. My problems are so small compared to yours. My life has been so...cushy compared to yours. You...you've been through hell. I just got knocked around by a jackass from Laredo, Texas. That's no comparison to what you've been through...people have it far worse than me..."

Luka stared at her, astonished, shaking his head. "I hate the idea of anyone hurting you, Daisy," he said quickly. "If anybody ever laid a hand on you...."

There was a long, uncomfortable silence between them. He was already feeling scared about saying something like that to her. What the hell am I doing? he asked himself. In a few days, she'll be gone.

Daisy's heart was pounding though, and for a moment, she waited, hoping-praying-he might say something more. But he was looking out the window now. A thousand miles away. In a few days, he would be just that-a world away, forgetting about her while she went through the rest of her life wishing she were with him.

Her mind drifted back to those days in the cabin. He had been delirious. He didn't remember, and he hadn't meant it.

"Take a nap," she ordered, forcing herself to smile at him. "You look worn out."

He was. He punched the pillow a few times, exhaled slowly and drifted off into dreamless sleep.

They were in Lawrence, Kansas, eating lunch at a little street cafe, sitting at a wrought-iron table shaded by a huge umbrella. It had reminded her of Paris, and she had insisted on dining there. Luka only shrugged. "I don't care, so long as they don't serve snails."

They had been driving almost nonstop across Kansas. The flat terrain was unnerving. Luka found in disconcerting to stare across the plains and see nothing but horizon. "I swear, I can see the curve of the earth out here," he had said during a stop to change a flat tire.

But he had talked about Croatia, she remembered. "This is first time I've been really homesick," he had said. "This place...I grew up on the coast. It was rugged, you know? Craggy...yes? There are beautiful mountains and the islands, medieval villages. Everything was human-sized...nothing overwhelms you in Croatia. It's all at a reasonable scale. Everything in America is so big...especially this...prairie? Is that what you call it? This is nerve-wracking."

Now, Daisy watched Luka with interest, noting, yet again, his body language.

He had hooked his right leg over his left knee and was leaning on folded arms, reading a newspaper article about fertilizer and looking bored. He was leaning toward her, but those crossed arms and legs meant that he was still closed off from her, still resisting her.

He was, in fact, though she couldn't know it, hugging himself, remembering the feeling of her body in his arms. It was taking all his efforts to avoid looking up at her. Lately, his energy had been coming back bit by bit, but he still had little appetite. She had to cajole him into eating a turkey on rye sandwich. "Very healthy," she said. He had only rolled his eyes, exasperated.

"I want a piece of strawberry pie," he said, obviously just goading her.

"Certainly not," she said, smiling at him. She, however, had ordered a small piece of cheesecake for herself.

"How come you get to eat whatever you like? I should be able to have what I want, too."

"So what do you want, Luka?" she asked him, giving him a flirtatious little smile.

His eyes narrowed, catching her meaning perfectly. For a moment, he stared at her, heart pounding, wanting her so bad he could taste her.

"I want a piece of damned strawberry pie!" He couldn't keep the frustration out of his voice. Why is she doing this to me? he asked himself. She can't be serious anyway. Why can't I pull myself together?

Luka drummed his fingers on the table, feeling so wound up he could barely sit still. She was so desirable, so luscious, and so damned frustrating. She was driving him crazy.

She blushed and looked away, her heart trembling. He was obviously upset with her for flirting like that. He probably resents me anyway, she thought, for all the trouble I've caused him, for taking so much of his time, for making him feel like he's betraying Marina. He doesn't like me that much anyway. He certainly doesn't like it when I push things with him.

He eyed her warily, shaking the newspaper and raising it up so he wouldn't have to look at her; so it wouldn't hurt so badly. Why do I have to be so damned clumsy? he asked himself.

She sighed and looked out at the town. All the streetlamps had baskets of red and white geraniums hanging from them, and all the stores and houses had windowboxes overflowing with pansies. There was only a slight, cooling breeze coming down the street from the north. She remembered that Lawrence was sacked and burned by Quantrille's band of no-good-niks back during the Civil War. Apparently, the city had recovered, and quite well. It was really a pretty nice place. She almost wanted to ask him if Vukovar had recovered from its siege; if the citizens hung flowers out on the streetlamps, trying to get on with their lives, too.

"Let's get some ice cream," she said, breaking the uncomfortable silence. "I don't guess they have Blue Bell in these parts," she sighed.

"Blue Bell?" he said, lowering the paper to study her again.

"Yeah. It's the best ice cream in the world."

"Who says?"

"Texans."

"I guess they'd know, huh?"

She laughed. "We do. It's made at a little dairy in Brenham. Homemade vanilla is the most famous variety, but all the flavors are wonderful. Cookies and cream is my favorite."

He shrugged. "Anything'd be better than Haagen-Daz or that awful Ben and Jerry's," he said. "I tried some of that stuff in Chicago. Horrible."

She giggled. "I'll let you have...two scoops of chocolate. There's an ice cream parlor across the street. Finish your sandwich like a good boy and you can have dessert."

He stared at her, frustrated, wishing again that she could be his dessert, but he forced himself to grin at her. "This turkey...it's not half bad."

"Must have been free-range," she said. "My mother always complained about restaurant chicken. How you could taste the misery of the bird's short life with every bite. She kills her own chickens and turkeys. Keeps them in chicken heaven-roaming around the yard, being fed table scraps-until their heads hit the choppin' block. My mother makes the best fried chicken this side of the Mississippi...and her Christmas and Thanksgiving turkey is legendary around El Paso."

He nodded. "My mother's Dalmatian pot roast was pretty damned legendary, too."

Daisy stared at him, momentarily confused. "Dalmatian pot roast?"

"Yep. Kill a little spotted puppy, roast it in red wine with strips of bacon..."

She burst into laughter. Just then, the waiter arrived with the check. Luka snatched it away from Daisy, however, and paid it himself over her objections.

"Gimme a break," he said. "I'm a European male."

"You mean European dinosaur?" she said, smiling. He only shrugged.

After buying ice cream cones, they walked down the street to a small park. Daisy sat down, but Luka paced for a little while, finishing his ice cream cone in a matter of minutes. Daisy crossed her legs and watched him, baffled by all these changes in his mood. She felt so clumsy around him, like she could never say the right thing.

He was limping a little, one foot dragging. It was amazing how he could swagger a little and yet have that limp. It added to his mystery and to his beauty...to his innate sexiness. She closed her eyes, remembering how his hands had felt on her breasts, the way he had kissed her, touched her, as if he had really wanted her. But, she reminded herself, he had been sick- he hadn't meant it. It's been nine years since he's been with a woman, she thought. Any woman would have suited his needs then. He doesn't want *me* in particular. I'm really not worthy of him anyway...

"You should lick it." Luka's voice made her jump, and she looked up at him, confused.

"What?"

"Your ice cream. It's melting all over your hand."

His face was expressionless, and she stared at him for a moment, wondering. Then she started licking the ice cream. In a few minutes, she was finished, but her hands were terribly sticky.

"My son used to do that," he said, looking past her, trying to avoid eye contact with her. "Get ice cream all over his face and his hands."

"May I see a picture of him?" she asked softly.

He looked down. "I don't have any pictures of him, but I just close my eyes, and...he's there."

A horrible reality hit Daisy. He was probably lucky to have that picture of Jasna and Marina.

He closed his eyes tight and smiled a private smile. Daisy could tell he was seeing Marko in his mind. She wondered if Marko had looked much like Luka. He would have been a lady-killer, had he lived. It was amazing to her, to see him light up when he talked about his babies. They had so obviously been the light of his life.

"I still miss them so much," he said at last. He looked down, digging the toe of his boot into the soft turf.

"I know they're in a better place, but I...I still..."

Daisy got up and touched his arm, and she saw tears in his eyes. He sniffed and looked away, so he wasn't prepared for her to gently hug him, slipping her arms around his neck. It gave him a chance to regain his composure, though he couldn't stop himself from putting his arm around her waist and pulling her a little closer. She was so warm, so kind. He loved her so much. But she was only being compassionate, as usual.

He drew in his breath, then exhaled slowly and looked at the sun. "We had better hit the trail," he said quietly.

She nodded and backed away from him. He was withdrawing from her, just like always.

She started back toward the Caddy, he stood and watched her for a moment, admiring her gently swaying hips. There it was again- that way of walking like a woman and a little girl all at once. He had one of those impure thoughts again-they were becoming very frequent-about helping her lick that chocolate ice cream away.

"We're in St. Louis," she said, when he woke up to the sound of someone honking at them. "Look, we're gonna cross the Mississippi soon."

"Wonderful," he said tiredly. They had been driving for hours, the traffic in St. Louis was horrible (it was almost five o'clock in the afternoon) and Daisy was a little discombobulated. She hated city traffic.

"After this, is northward to Chicago," she said. "I've never been there."

He looked at her briefly. "It's that toddlin' town," he said, yawning.

"We'll pass through Springfield."

"Great." He was being rather short with her, and Daisy felt wounded. She looked at him for a moment, then sighed as they went over the bridge, crossing the Mississippi. He looked out the window at the river.

"Big river," he said, yawning.

"Yes. Old Man River."

"Old Man Winter," he corrected her.

"No. Old Black Magic," she joked.

"Father Time," he grinned.

"Mother Freedom."

"Uncle Sam!"

She burst into laughter. "Some stream of consciousness we have here!"

He laughed too, which surprised her, and they continued along the highway, turning north toward Springfield and Chicago. The Mississippi was beautiful, though. Luka looked downriver, amazed at how wide it was-it was more like a lake, and how muddy. Muddy waters. Luka doubted his life would ever be clear after Daisy left him.

Luka was feeling more and more blue with every passing mile. It only made the reality of seeing her go away harder for him to deal with. He would have to let her go-his pride, he knew, and the fear of being turned down, would prevent him from asking her to stay with him outright. He was sure she didn't feel that way about him, even though she had been kind to him. So he would have to drive her to the airport and say goodbye, hiding his heart from her.

He was already missing her. Missing her scent, her smile, her touch. How in hell was he supposed to get up the day after she left? Go to work, be greeted by his colleagues, deal with traumas and various cases, without breaking down? He was sure he'd go crazy after a while. That black hole was opening up again, ready to grab Luka and suck him back in. He'd be alone again. Alone and desperate.

The radio was playing a familiar song, and Luka reached over and turned it up a little.

Dear Prudence, won't you come out to play?
Dear Prudence, greet the brand new day
The sun is up, the sky is blue
It's beautiful and so are you
Dear Prudence...
Won't you come out and play?

Dear Prudence open up your eyes
Dear Prudence see the sunny skies
The wind is low the birds will sing
that you are part of everything
Dear Prudence won't you open up your eyes?

Look around round
Look around round round
Look around

Dear Prudence let me see you smile
Dear Prudence like a little child
The clouds will be a daisy chain
So let me see you smile again
Dear Prudence won't you let me see you smile?

Daisy looked over at him, and noticed that he was watching her. She blushed and looked away. She had been very quiet since leaving St. Louis. Not once had she flirted with him since leaving Lawrence, and that in itself was making him panic.

"You come from a big family," he said, needing to draw her out, to hear her voice some more. "Didn't you ever want a bunch of kids yourself?"

"I haven't thought about having babies..." Until recently, she thought. I've been having dreams about them. I can hear that clock ticking. "I mean, I'd like a big family one day."

"How many?" he asked.

"I don't know. Four or five. It amazes me how people these days only want two kids. I mean, if you have the money and the energy, and can do it without it being a danger to your health, why not have a whole herd of 'em? My father always quoted King Solomon:

"Lo, children are an heritage of the Lord, and the fruit of the womb is his reward.
As arrows are in the hand of a mighty man;
so are the children of the youth.
Happy is the man that hath his quiver full of them:
they shall not be ashamed, but they shall speak
with the enemies in the gate."

"Solomon only had one kid, though," Luka nodded, grinning. "Marina and I...we were going to have as many as possible. She wanted a lot of kids. But then again, we were Catholic, and she was of the fertile Mediterranean type..." he joked.

Daisy laughed. "Well, my family is Southern Baptist WASP, but we believed in big families, too. I had all my brothers and my sister, then hundreds of cousins all over El Paso, and more back in New Orleans. At Christmastime, we had to plan for the Childers Family Invasion. But it was always fun. And looking back on it, it was amazing how quiet and well-run the household was. Daddy never could abide noise, and Mama ruled with an iron fist in a velvet glove."

"Sounds like what most households should be like. A benign dictatorship. With the parents at the top."

She laughed. "Yeah. Basically. I had wonderful parents. I mean, I rebelled a little in high school, sometimes, but basically I got along with them. Still do. They're good people, and they brought me up right."

"I'd say they did," he said quietly.

"What about your parents? Do you get along with them?"

"My parents are dead," Luka said. "My father died just after I went to University. My mother died ten years ago. But, I got along with them. I guess I had a pretty happy childhood. Spent a lot of time with my Grandpa, on his farm. Drove a tractor...that is, I drove the tractor 'til I took out a couple of fences and one of his cows. Then I didn't drive again for a *long* time."

Daisy laughed. "What about your brother? Is he married...kids?"

Luka shook his head. "No. He's not married."

"Is he...widowed, too?"

"No. He never married. He's a writer, a little reclusive. It's been a long time since I've seen or heard from him."

Daisy grinned. "I should send Leah to Cairo to look him up. I'd think she could change his mind about living the life of a lonely bachelor."

Luka gave her a thin smile.

"Does he look like you?" she asked.

"Who?"

"Your brother, Luka. Gregor Kovac."

"Oh. Yeah. Talk, dark..."

"And handsome. Mysterious, too?"

He looked at her as if she were crazy, then shrugged. "I don't know about handsome, but all the Kovac men are mysterious. We can't really help it. We are...how do you say? Brooding?"

Daisy smiled. She had noted, upon first meeting Luka, that he was not only beautiful but modest. Perhaps even a little clueless about his looks. It was still the most charming thing about him-the fact that he had no idea of his own appeal.

"Yeah. Brooding. That's the word for you, Luka," she said.

He watched her for a few moments, fighting the urge to just tell her. Just get it out, 'let the chips fall where they may' and risk the burn now instead of later. But his courage failed him again. When she turned her head to look at him, he shifted his gaze to the road ahead, his loneliness engulfing him once more.

"Your kids..." she said quietly. "You were really happy then, weren't you?"

He nodded, smiling a little. "It was the best time of my life."

"I'm sure it was," she whispered. "Tell me about them."

"I was..." he paused, struggling to form the words. This was the first time a caring person had asked him about his kids. Carol had asked about them, sort of, but it had turned out that she didn't give a damn. "I was just twenty when I got married. Marina was eighteen. We didn't have a dinar between us, but we did okay...but God, we were so stupid. Didn't know a thing, but we did all right. I was in medical school then, and was a first year student when Jasna was born. I had just graduated when Marko was born. January the eleventh and April the eighteenth. Those were their birthdays." He licked his lips, still struggling. "Jasna was like me, I guess. The most like me. Temperamental, stubborn...moody, I guess. But..." He looked down. "And Marko was always laughing. Running around, getting into trouble, making a mess. If you wanted to find him, you just followed the trail of debris."

Daisy smiled, gently urging him to continue.

"They were my world," he said. "Marina was...she was my first love. My soul-mate. When she died...when they died...I became like a zombie or something. I was so numb...I swear, you could have shot me and I wouldn't have felt it. The only thing that kept me from going crazy was the good memories of them. Remembering that I'd see them again some day."

His voice was shaking as he spoke, but she didn't move her gaze from him. He looked at her, scared of letting her-or anyone-see his tears.

"No one ever really asked me about them," he said. "At least...nobody that ever gave a damn."

She wondered what he meant by that. Surely someone had cared about him...how could no one care about him?

"Thank you..." he said, glancing at her. He had to look away then, so she wouldn't see how overwhelmed he was. He loved her even more now, for having listened to him. For having cared enough to sit and hear him. A bitter memory came up for Luka- the day he had tried to tell Carol about Vukovar. He had realized she didn't care to listen to his story, and so he had stopped, finding the pain too unbearable anyway. Then that cruel woman had kissed him that day, and a few days later, rejected him, then pulled him back again, manipulated him, and had finally used him as her personal doormat. But Carol had never once listened to him, or showed any sign of having cared about what he was going through. She had been so self- absorbed. Daisy wasn't that way, that was for sure. She had stayed by his side when he was so sick he couldn't think straight, not thinking of herself even once. Carol had left him dangling from a precipice, barely hanging on by his fingernails. Why had he been so stupid-so blind?

Of course, at that time, he had no idea Marguerite Childers existed in the world. The painful fact, however, was that Daisy didn't love him. She had shown him compassion and kindness, but just like always, his love for her would not be reciprocated.

"Thank you for listening."

She blushed and looked at him again. "I'm glad you told me, Luka."

"Me too," he said, wiping his eyes.

There was only silence after that. In fact, for the rest of the afternoon, they said nothing to each other.

"This car is turning blue," she said to herself after he had fallen asleep. She looked at him, this man she loved and wanted so much, and knew that when she got back to El Paso, it would take her a lifetime to recover from the heartbreak. Hell, she doubted she'd ever recover. How do you recover from someone like him?

She had never felt so depressed in her life. But she had no idea that Luka felt the same.

He kept his eyes closed, so she wouldn't see how miserable he felt.

So they continued north, hardly speaking to each other. Both feeling utterly hopeless.

Luka directed Daisy to his apartment building without much trouble. It was nearly dark when they arrived, but Daisy insisted on helping him unload the Cadillac. He was still just a little wobbly, from what Daisy could tell.

She was not impressed with his apartment. It was very sparse, undecorated...bare. She looked around the living room, noting that there were no pictures on the walls. Just a crucifix nailed over a small sideboard. The furniture was worn, probably purchased at Goodwill.

Once the car was unloaded, there was an uncomfortable silence between them. She stood in the middle of his living room, wondering what to say.

"Would you like something to drink?" he asked.

"No...no. I...uh...why don't you tell me the name of a nice, inexpensive little hotel around here somewhere. I can get up early and get the first flight back home..."

"No. That wouldn't be right. I have plenty of room here. I can sleep on the couch, you can take my bed. It wouldn't be right for you to sleep in some hotel, paying for a room, after having driven me up here. The least I can is give you...a place to stay for the night..." He looked around the room, still avoiding eye contact with her. He was pacing back and forth, running his hand through his hair.

Daisy had never seen him quite so agitated before. It's probably me, she thought. He probably wants me out of here, but he's just being polite.

"No, really, Luka, it's very kind of you, but I really should..."

"Please." It was more of a command than an entreaty.

She blushed and finally nodded. "Okay."

There was nothing in the refrigerator, of course, so they dined on the remaining bologna from their trip. After the Spartan meal, Daisy decided to take a shower.

Luka sat on his living room couch, looking at his small picture of Marina and Jasna. The past. No matter how much he loved them, they were still dead. He would not see them again on this side of that 'undiscovered country'. He closed his eyes so he could see his Marko again. It was all he had left of them, the memories. When she left him tomorrow, he'd only have one photograph of her-it was still in the Cadillac's glove compartment-and memories.

Daisy took a long time in the shower, trying to relax. As she dried herself off, she made up her mind. She was going to make one final play for him. If she was going to leave for El Paso tomorrow, then she could at least leave with a pleasant memory. Having resolved this at last, she looked around, found one of his T-shirts in the hamper, and put it on. "There, that ought to make it pretty clear to him," she said to herself.

He was still sitting there, the photograph on the coffee table, when she came in. He looked up at her, then did a startled double-take. He stood up, and stared at her.

She was breathtaking. So slender and graceful, perfectly proportioned...faultless, in fact. And here she was, in his T- shirt, her hair hanging down, wet, around her shoulders. She was making it as clear as possible that she was willing to give herself to him.

He swallowed. "Good night, Daisy," he said.

She stared at him, stunned. She looked wounded, drawing her breath in slowly and exhaling. She closed her eyes, shivering slightly. Another rejection. Another day, another damned dollar, she thought. I came, I tried and I failed. Again. He doesn't want me. He'll never love me. Simple as that. At least he's too much of a gentleman to take advantage of me.

"Good...good night, Luka," she whispered.

It was a rough night for both of them.

Daisy climbed, exhausted, into his huge bed, and lay there for a long time, letting the tears flow unchecked. Well, she had fallen in love twice in her life. Once with a cold-hearted, cruel jackass. Next, with the most beautiful, gentle man she'd ever seen. Billy had intentionally broken her heart, treated her like trash. Luka had broken her heart, but not with any malicious intent. He was incapable of malice. But her heart was still broken nonetheless.

Daisy didn't sleep that night, despite the comfortable bed. She lay there, drinking in his scent from the sheets and blanket, hugging the pillow and wishing it was Luka. She cried all night, until there were no tears left.

He didn't hear her sobs. She had closed the bedroom door, and he lay in the silent living room, staring at the ceiling.

He remembered yet again the feeling of her in his arms, the taste of her lips and her skin. Luka hadn't felt this way about a woman for so long, and now the first woman he had allowed himself to fall for was going to walk away from him forever. He felt like his very soul was being torn to shreds. Part of him-the part that had finally come back to life-would die when she walked out the door.

He couldn't sleep. He just stared at the ceiling, struggling with himself, fighting with his own fears, tossing and turning, until he finally gave in. He couldn't fight it any more.

It was still slightly dark when Daisy woke up. There was only a little light coming through the window, the kind of early morning light that plays tricks on your mind and makes you see things that aren't there. He was sitting at the end of the bed, watching her. She could barely see his face, but she knew it was him. Or...maybe it was just a dream.

"Luka?"

"Daisy...I didn't want you to leave without..." he said, his voice very quiet. "I wanted to...thank you for taking care of me. For driving me up here and putting up with me...I didn't want you to leave without saying goodbye to you." There was a long pause, and she heard him say, almost under his breath. "I don't want you to..."

She said nothing, her heart pounding. Was this just a dream? Was she just imagining him? She saw the first rays of sunlight coming through the window, and she was afraid that they would take this dream away from her. She reached for him, stretching out her hand toward him. With that, he moved to her side, sitting down beside her. It amazed her how silently he could move, like a leopard.

"I don't want you to leave, Daisy," he said, his voice so soft and smoky that she was still afraid it was a dream.

Daisy's breath was coming short, and she had to close her eyes a moment. Nervously, she reached up and touched his face. He was real. He moved closer and kissed her, gently urging her to open her mouth to him. She sighed, touching his shoulders, then pulled him down to her, kissing him back.

That was the signal he wanted-needed-from her. He pulled her back up into his arms, lifting her up until she was on her knees. In one motion, he removed the T-shirt. He lowered her onto her back again, lying down beside her and caressing her, exploring her, with his hands and with his mouth, tasting her, needing her. She could feel the urgency of his need, how desperate he was now for release.

Their first mating was hungry, hurried, but not wholly satisfying for either of them. For a while, they lay still, his head still buried into her neck, her limbs still wrapped around him, both shuddering, both feeling overwhelmed.

Luka had to regain his composure a little. He had gone too fast, had lost control. It had been so long since he'd been with a woman, but he still remembered what kinds of things he liked. He closed his eyes, relishing the feeling of her body writhing beneath his own, of her fingernails digging into his back, her strong legs around him. Her cries of pleasure had driven him on, making him wild, and he didn't want to leave her yet.

He rose up on his elbows to look down at her, and she smiled, biting her lip. Rays of sunlight were splashing through the windows, filling the room up in an almost ethereal light.

"I haven't felt like this in so long," he said, touching her face. She smiled and kissed him, then sighed as he began to explore her body. He took his time, worshipping her, making sure she felt loved, paying thorough attention to her needs, wanting so much to satisfy her. Daisy gave herself to him, crying out his name as they came together, sobbing into his shoulder, whispering against his skin. He could feel her eyelashes against his shoulder, and her tears. He was overwhelmed with love for her, and could only hope he didn't crush her when he hugged her fiercely. She only sighed, kissing his shoulder.

He kissed her again, and she smiled up at him, wanting to tell him how wonderful he was, how he had made her feel. But there were no words to describe her feelings. She just knew she loved him. Would love him forever.

Daisy's smile faded when she saw the look in his eyes. Almost shyly, she touched his face, the stubble on his jaw tickling her hand. But she didn't smile.

"I love you, Luka," she whispered.

For a moment, , he pressed his forehead to hers, closing his eyes.

"I never thought I'd find anyone again," he said. "But I have. I've found what I've been needing now for nine years. There was something missing from my life, Daisy. Like a life. But I'm glad I waited...but I've wasted too much time. I'm not going to waste time. I don't want you to leave, Daisy. I need you. I'd go crazy without you."

She smiled, caressing his cheek. "I'll stay. I'll stay as long as you want me."

"Stay forever," he whispered. "You're what I need. I want you."

There was a long pause, as he formed his words, feeling a little clumsy and awkward. "Nine years...I was broken down...a mess. No one gave a damn about me. I rarely slept, I never ate a healthy meal, I smoked like a steam engine...never took care of myself. Nobody took care of me until you. You saved my life, Daisy. You rebuilt me."

She kissed him softly, and he caressed her face, kissing her again and again before speaking again. "I knew what I was doing, Daisy. Back at that cabin at the Grand Canyon. I knew I was holding you...I knew I wanted you then. I knew I loved you when you fell in the river. I would have died if something had happened to you...if you had been taken from me...and when you let me talk about my kids, I loved you even more. I'll always love you."

"I knew I loved you the first time you kissed me," Daisy said. "Well, actually, I kissed you, didn't I?" she laughed. "But I knew. I was...I am...so hopelessly in love with you. If I had gone back to El Paso, I would have just...shrivelled up and died."

He grinned at her, and offered no resistance when she pushed him onto his back. "You know, I was thinking about this back at Phantom Canyon," he said.

"About what?" she asked as she began her own thorough explorations.

"About how, if I gave in to you then, you'd have to do all the work."

She giggled. "Luka, I haven't even gotten started on you yet. There's still some rebuilding to do."

"Well, we have all the time in the world, don't we?"

Daisy smiled. "And we're not going to waste a minute."

Later, as they lay in each other's arms, having made love all morning, he asked her where she'd like to go for a honeymoon.

"How about that hotel in Chihuahua?"

"*Donde es hotel grande aqui*?" he deadpanned.

"*Si, si, bueno*," she laughed.

He grinned at her, something wicked in his beautiful eyes. "And that verse by Racine...I knew what it meant, Daisy."

She stared at him, then blushed. "You did?" she asked, getting a little breathless.

"I saw him, I blushed, I blanched at the sight;
My distraught soul was thrown into turmoil;
My eyes no longer saw, I could not speak;
I felt my body shiver and burn,"

he quoted.

"That's how I felt," she whispered, "When I first saw you. After that, it was no effort at all to fall in love with you. I'll always love you, Luka. I'll never leave you," she promised. "Wherever you go, I will go."

He pulled her closer and whispered his love to her again, but in his own tongue. She understood every word, though, and repeated his words back perfectly. Finally, wrapped up in each other, they both fell asleep, tired and happy.

Luka Kovac had been healed. He had been reconstructed.

THE END