Her Heart's Desire (Sunflower Series Book 1) (25 page)

She and Megan pressed their noses to the
window. Lia shuddered. Uncertainty scratched down her back as the
scene unfolded outside. “Trust me. Craig won’t hurt Lucas. He
doesn’t have it in him. Let’s just pray the gun doesn’t accidently
go off.”

Megan nodded. “I can’t believe Craig is this
crazy!”

The two men stood ten feet apart on the front
lawn, their intensity belying the bucolic setting of velvet grass,
pink and red flowers, bluebirds scattering seeds from the feeders,
and hummingbirds flitting around the tall posts of the split-rail
fence.

“Oh, Craig,” Lia sighed, opening the window
to hear the exchange between the men.

Her brother always tried to do the right
thing, but lately he never stopped to consider what really might be
best. Just like a man to be lost and not stop for directions.

Her heart pounded double time. Blood rushed
in her ears. Butterflies dove and fluttered in her stomach. She
said a silent prayer for Lucas’s safety,
and
counted on his
rationality in the face of her brother’s bizarre behavior. However,
Craig’s erratic behavior worried her to her bones. He’d taken on so
much, carrying the burden of responsibility for her and the farm,
all the while trying to carve out a new life for himself in St.
Louis. Had he snapped? Had seeing her with Lucas been too much?

“Lucas, I always thought of you as a
brother,” Craig shouted as he paced back and forth. His fingers
flexed around the gun. “So did Amelia. Our father isn’t here. So
this is my job. What are your intentions toward my sister?” Craig
raised the barrel of the shotgun and pointed at Lucas’s chest.

“Intentions?” Lucas shrugged. “Funny thing
about intentions. Sometimes they backfire, just like yours did.”
Lucas held out his arms from his sides as though showing he had no
defenses, his body language screaming,
I’m unarmed
. He took
a step forward. Craig took two steps back.

“I set out to help you, Craig. I know you had
good intentions for Amelia, but you can’t play God. She gets to
decide about her life. She gets to live with the consequences of
her actions. Your father was a wise man”—Lucas shook his finger,
berating Craig—“he wouldn’t be standing here holding a loaded
shotgun on me.”

“You slept with my sister!”

“I did. I love her.”

“Please, don’t tell him it wasn’t the first
time,” Lia whispered. She covered her cheeks with her hands and
willed Lucas to hear her plea. “Please don’t tell him.”

Megan looked up at her with wide eyes. “Not
the first time?” The accusation hung thick in the air around
them.

“I’ll explain later,” Lia told her in a rush.
She pointed outside hoping to keep Megan’s attention focused
there.

“So Lucas did more than just spend the night
with you in KC.”

“Megan, now isn’t the time.”

“This is too much drama,” Megan said. “I’m
going to be sick.” She ran to the bathroom.

Torn, Lia wanted to follow her to be sure she
was okay, but her feet remain glued to the spot before the window.
There had to be a way to stop this craziness before someone got
hurt.

“Why would you sneak around behind my back?”
Craig lowered the barrel of the shotgun from Lucas’s chest to his
groin. “Why didn’t you let me know how you felt about her?”

Lucas didn’t flinch. “So the great and mighty
Craig Britton could laugh at me? Tell me how a poor, farm-less farm
boy wasn’t good enough for his sister? How living in the country
isn’t the life for his sister?” Lucas shouted and stepped closer to
Craig. “How many times have you told me that? How many? Christ, if
I had a dollar for every time, I could buy your half of the damn
farm and give it to Amelia for a wedding gift.”

Craig’s face wrinkled. Brows furrowed. Nose
pinched, as though he smelled something foul. Then he raised the
barrel of the gun and pointed it once again at Lucas’s chest.

“I love her. And if she’ll have me, I’m going
to marry her.”

Lia squeezed her eyes shut. Her nostrils
flared. Her jaw locked. “Enough!”

She stormed outside, slamming the front door.
“Craig Britton!” she screamed. Anger pumped through her veins like
a rocket blasting off for a trip to the moon. She stomped her way
to her brother. “Give me that!” Jerking the barrel of the shotgun,
she yanked hard and pulled it from him. “Idiot! What do you think
you’re doing?”

Craig folded and sank to the ground, sitting
crossed-legged. He covered his face with his hands.

Lucas crossed the yard to her as she opened
the break-open shotgun. Once the chambers were exposed, she
snorted. “The darn thing wasn’t loaded. Dammit, Craig. What’s up
with you?”

Lucas reached out a hand to Craig, an offer
to help pull him up. Craig slapped Lucas’s hand away and rose on
his own.

“Suit yourself,” Lucas said, his voice deadly
calm. “But don’t ever point a gun at me again unless you intend to
pull the trigger. I
have
killed men for that.”

“Honey,” Lia pleaded. “Please check on Megan.
She’s not feeling well. Let me deal with my brother. I’ll let you
have a swing at him later. I might even hold him for you.”

Lucas nodded. When he reached the front door,
he turned back as though he had something to say, but instead,
shook his head and disappeared inside.

“Let’s talk over there.” Lia pointed to the
two wooden Adirondack chairs their parents used to sit in and watch
sunsets.

Craig sank into the wooden seat.

Lia pulled the diamond pendant so it hung in
front of her t-shirt. “Lucas gave me this.” She leaned over for her
brother to examine it. “He didn’t ask me to marry him. He said he
didn’t want to rush things. When I was ready, when I know it’s
right, we’ll take the stone and have it set in a ring, an
engagement ring. Then he’ll officially propose.”

“Nice,” Craig said, letting go of the
chain.

“Now for you. A shotgun? Really? You need to
tell me what’s going on. If I were Zoë, I’d take the butt of the
gun and...”

“I get the picture.” Craig scrubbed his face
with his hands. “You were always the perfect child, always the
talented one. From the day you were born, I was told to protect
you, watch out for you. You’re the baby sister.”

“But I haven’t been a baby for a long time,”
Lia said softly. “And I don’t want to increase your
ick
factor, but I’m also not a virginal little miss. Lucas wasn’t my
first.”

“I want to cover my ears and sing,
la la
la la la
. I don’t want to know the details. Not about anything
before, and certainly not about what I saw.”

“I want you to be happy for Lucas and me. I
love him, Craig.” She reached and patted his hand.

“But—”

“Blame it on Helen. She was the one who
declared the prophecy. I resisted the notion, but I’ve always cared
for Lucas.”

“Yeah. I know.” Craig’s voice carried deep
resignation.

“You did?”

“I saw the carvings on the trees down by the
creek. Your hideaway. I figured it out. But when I saw the two of
you this morning, something took hold, after I waited all night for
you to open your present and to share some news about the
farm.”

Unease crawled up her back like a scorpion
walked along her spine. The harvest wasn’t in yet. What did Craig
have cooking?

He pulled his keys from his jeans’ pocket.
“I’ve got to get back to St. Louis. I guess I’ll leave you and
Lucas to work out the details, figure out a plan. I’ll get used to
the idea of the two of you together”—her heart softened, and the
breath she held escaped. He would come around and all would be
okay—“I’ve got a buyer for the farm.”

His words hit her like a bulldozer. Her heart
plunged to her feet. She blinked. “You what?”

“Either buy me out in cash, or we sell.”
Craig stood. “I’ve given you all the time I’m going to. I’m tired
of this, tired of trying to help you do the right thing, and you
fighting me all the way.” He bent and squeezed her shoulder. “The
farm is part of my inheritance, too. I want to invest in something
else. This appears to be a bust.” He strode to his BMW and drove
away.

Lia sank back into the chair. Her brother’s
words hurt as much as if he’d shot her with both barrels of the
shotgun. Her whole world had been wiped away. The paintings. The
studio. Now the farm.

And soon Lucas would be leaving for the
harvesting season.

What would she do?

Chapter 21

Lucas set his plate of half-eaten food in the
microwave to heat, thankful for Craig’s departure. What was he
thinking? Craig would never shoot him. Amelia proved it. The
shotgun had no shells. Damn fool needed his head examined. Maybe
the year had been more than Craig could handle. He’d never make it
in the military.

“I can’t eat,” Megan said, joining him in the
kitchen, her face still pale, but showing a bit more color. She
peeked through the window. “Craig’s car is gone.”

“Do you see Amelia?” Lucas asked. He pulled
his plate out of the microwave and bobbled it. Grabbing a towel to
protect his hand, he set the plate down on the table to finish
eating the food Amelia had served him only a bit ago.

Megan opened the front door. “Lucas, she’s
sitting in one of the chairs.” She turned to him. “She’s crying,”
she whispered. “Lia hardly ever cries. I wonder—”

Lucas was out of his seat, gently pushing his
sister aside, and out the front door.

“Amelia?” Fear had a stranglehold on his gut.
He couldn’t imagine Craig had hurt her and left, but the man who’d
pointed a shotgun at him wasn’t the man he’d been friends with all
his life. Hunkering down in front of her, he took her hands in his.
“Are you hurt, sweetheart?”

She wiped away her tears. “I’m fine.” She
shook her head as though to stop the tears and clear away the gray
cloud Craig had left behind.

“I think he’s cracking under the pressure. We
both know this isn’t like Craig. And I know he isn’t doing
drugs...nor was he drunk, which makes me worry more.” Amelia rose
with his help. “Let’s go finish breakfast.” Amelia’s smile was
forced. Her eyes still brimmed with tears.

“I was about to start without you,” he
teased.

They made it to the front porch before Amelia
spoke again. “You’re leaving tomorrow, aren’t you?”

Lucas nodded. He wished he could say
otherwise. He would miss her art show opening. Miss the harvesting
of her crop. He’d miss her sweet kisses. Miss every inch of her
body, her smiles, her sense of humor, and her warmth at night.

Amelia’s mouth drew a straight line as though
she contemplated something. What? She didn’t say. He was reluctant
to ask. Prying wasn’t his thing.

At the table, Megan sipped orange juice. “Can
we pretend what just happened was an episode from
Doctor Who
and now we’re back on Earth?” she pleaded. “Amelia, shall I heat up
your plate?”

“I’ve got it. You just enjoy the view and
your OJ.”

They finished breakfast in silence. Anger
skittered in Lucas’s gut like a ricocheting bullet. Craig had
crossed the line, seriously crossed the line, but maybe he needed
serious help. Pointing a gun at him was one thing, but bringing
Amelia to tears—completely unacceptable.

“I hate to eat and run, but I’ve got to hit
the road,” Lucas said, rising from the table. He kissed the top of
Amelia’s head and squeezed her shoulder.

“I’ll clean up.” Megan popped out of her
chair and grabbed the platters of leftover food.

“I’ll walk you out,” Amelia said, following
him.

They stood in silence beside his truck. He
opened his arms, and she flung herself at him. “What is it? What
did Craig do or say?”

“I’m not sure what I’m going to do.” She
released him and slumped against the passenger door of the
pickup.

Lucas searched her face, her eyes, searched
for the deeper meaning to her words. “Now’s not a time for riddles.
Tell me.”

“I don’t know where I’m going to go. I don’t
know what I’m going to do. Craig has a buyer for the farm. I must
buy him out now, or the farm is sold.”

“That’s what he said before he left?” Anger
bubbled up and wrapped around Lucas’s neck like a noose. It grew
tighter until he fought back the choking sensation. The urge to
punch something hard, like Craig, took over. He kicked the truck’s
tire instead. “Dammit! He told you like that?”

“Meaning?”

“He’s gone off his rocker completely. He
should have told you in a better way.”

“You knew?” Amelia stood and crossed her arms
over her chest.

“Well...”

“You knew!” She flung the accusation at him
so hard it punched his gut.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It wasn’t my place. I’m navigating new
waters here. Our friendship, mine and Craig’s, mine and yours, goes
way back. Lots of history...”

“But you made love to me! You gave me this!”
She tugged on the diamond hanging on the chain. “Am I not your
first loyalty?” She stepped away from him.

“Be reasonable, Amelia. It’s not that simple.
I love you. But the last thing I want is a rift between you and
Craig with me in the middle.” He took a step closer to her, but she
put up her hands for him to stop.

“I don’t see a future for us.” Amelia
unhooked the necklace. She reached for his hand, placing the
pendant there. “I can’t accept this.” She turned away and walked
slowly into the house without looking back.

“Amelia,” Lucas called after her. She entered
the house without a hint of having heard him.

“Dammit. Dammit, Craig,” Lucas muttered. Why
was it that lately all of his plans took a turn and put him in a
ditch? His thoughts flashed to last night. A perfect memory, but he
wanted more, an entire memory book with pages of life with Amelia.
However, now wasn’t the time for talking. Now was the time for
doing.