Her Heart's Desire (Sunflower Series Book 1) (28 page)

When in crisis, painting solved the problem.
It remained the best way to occupy her mind until a solution
materialized.

Lia focused. She put color on canvas. Brushed
it. Knifed it. Sponged it. If she had to live with the failure of
her crop, at least she might manage to keep the life she loved if
she could sell more paintings. Each new one looked more refined and
color-intense than the last. The replacement artwork looked better
than the stolen originals. Confidence urged her forward.

In all her life, she had never wanted to
claim her namesake more than now. Her father’s grandmother, born
and raised in Atchison, Kansas, had admired the city’s famous
daughter, Amelia Earhart, whose drive and spunk were legendary. The
very reason Lia’s mother named her only daughter after the famous
aviator.

Raised on stories of Earhart, Lia grew up
imagining the famous female pilot flying planes that flew overhead
at crop-dusting time. Like her namesake, Lia now set her teeth with
steely determination and risked all to have what she wanted. Only,
unlike Amelia Earhart, her course in life didn’t put her directly
in death’s path. So what were her options? Maybe she didn’t have to
sell all the property. Could she negotiate with Craig’s buyer to
keep the house, barns, and enough land to have access to the creek?
Losing the tree and the hideaway would leave a hole in her heart.
She wanted nothing more than to paint on the farm until she took
her last breath, hopefully many years from now. But if she couldn’t
have the farm, maybe a small piece of it?

When the phone rang, Lia picked it up before
the second ring. “Lucas?”

“You have caller ID. I’m not Lucas.”

“Oh, hey, Zoë.”

“You don’t have to sound so depressed. I’m
calling with good news.”

Lia brightened. “You’ve got a combiner for
me?”

“What? A combiner? No. Why would you think
that?”

“That’s the only good news I want to
hear.”

“Oh no. The storm. Your crop. I forgot…Gus
can’t work. What are you going to do?”

“I’m not sure. I may just watch the darn
storm roll in and destroy all my hopes.”

“I may have some good news.”

“You’ve got a loaded gun and will help me
shoot myself?”

“No. I have the prospect of a lease. A shop.
I want to capitalize on all those tourists rather than lick stamps
for them. I’ve had this idea about opening a shop. I’ve talked to
several artists in the area. Potters, weavers, and woodworkers.
Now, I’m talking to my featured painter. I’d like to sell your
work.”

The wheels in Lia’s head turned. Zoë’s idea
had merit. She could create enough paintings to show her work at
two galleries. A hometown gallery could really work out.

“Are you in?” Zoë asked.

“Yes. My gut says yes.”

“Good. Now, I’m guessing you’ve called Lucas
for help.”

Lia blew out a breath. “I’ve made so much out
of being able to handle things. I’m embarrassed to ask. But Craig
told me I would fail, and I’ll crawl over glass to succeed. I’m not
giving up until I’m blasted out of here. So, I left a message for
Lucas hoping he’d have an idea or two, but…”

“What happens if he doesn’t get the message?
How long ago did you call? Maybe you need to call him again. That
would drive the urgency home to him.”

A beep sounded in Lia’s ear. She looked at
caller ID. Lucas’s name and number appeared.

“Got to go. It’s Lucas.”

She ended one call and pushed talk for the
next.

“Amelia?”

“I’m so glad you called.”

“I don’t have good news. I talked to Gus
early this morning. Why didn’t you call me sooner and tell me Gus
was out of commission? I could have worked something out. Now,
there’s no way I can get back there in time. I’ve called everyone I
know.”

She dropped to her knees. Lucas’s words
struck like an arrow to her heart. Her eyes watered, and she
scrunched them tight to keep tears from falling. Her brain
screamed, No! Her last hope of saving her crop had died just like
the corn would after the storm hit.

“Amelia? I can help you make it through the
winter. If you lose the crop, I’ll plow and plant for free in the
spring. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I can’t do more. I’m sorry I’m not
there.”

“It’s okay, Lucas,” she whispered, not
trusting her voice not to break. She didn’t want his pity.

“I’ll call you tomorrow night. I usually take
Sunday off, but with the storm…”

“I understand...”

How arrogant of me to think I could handle
this all on my own.

“It’s good to hear your voice. Call when you
can. Bye.” She hung up before the tears flowed.

Exhausted, Lia dropped to the couch in the
sunroom.

In two days, her show would open.

In three days, her crop would be ruined.

In four days, her life would be over.

Chapter 24

Lia stood up from her stool. Her back muscles
protested loudly. She stretched as dawn blazed through the windows
of her studio. Her shoulders popped when she shrugged. A diet of
coffee and chocolate chip cookies for her last two meals didn’t
offer much energy. Her stomach rumbled. During the night, the drop
in the outside temperature dropped a chill into the room. She
turned on the gas fireplace and longed to curl up with Gentleman
Jack on the couch and sleep. Forever.

“Thirteen. A baker’s dozen.” She gazed at the
paintings hanging on the wall and leaning up against the counter.
They weren’t the large twenty-four by thirty-six inches, but
fourteen by fourteen square. However, the last one, about
half-done, painted mostly from memory, was her favorite. With help
from a photograph—one that captured Lucas’s smile, the one that
made her heart pound with love—she’d painted him. She missed him
more than expected, more than she wanted to admit. A deep sadness
had settled over her last night when he hadn’t called. Working on
the painting made her feel closer to him.

“Jack, what do you think?”

The Brittany spaniel raised his head, barked,
then made a dive for the dog door, and raced outside.

“Some critic you are.”

Lia padded to the kitchen for coffee.
Outside, Jack ran in circles and barked, racing back and forth
between the front lawn and the barn. After he ran figure eights
between the birdfeeders, he ran back and scratched on a glass
window in her art studio.

Lia stopped pouring coffee. Over Gentleman
Jack’s barking, the rumble of a large engine grabbed her attention.
She ran for the back door.

While the source of the noise wasn’t obvious,
the direction of the noise was. She opened the garage door, cranked
the four-wheeler, and took off down the pasture path, headed in the
opposite direction from the creek.

As she crested a small rise, a behemoth
John-Deere rolled across her field a half mile away. The cab of the
machine looked like a one-eyed bulging bug, nuclear-sized. Someone
had a combine going full tilt, harvesting rows of corn with a
single pass. She stopped. Blinked. Looked again. Stared.

Never in her life had she considered herself
in need of a knight in shining armor, but the driver of the green
beast had rescued this damsel in distress. Someone was saving her
corn!

Jack caught up with her. He wiggled as though
in a fit of ecstasy. Together they waited for the second pass of
the combine. Lia waved as the machine drew nearer. About thirty
yards away, the operator killed the engine. The door to the cab
opened. A man climbed down.

Jack ran beside Lia as she raced like the
wind with the four-wheeler.

“Lucas!” The second she stopped the machine,
she launched herself at him, joy giving her body flight.

He swept her up into his arms, lifting her
feet from the ground. Her heart sang with a new gladness she never
expected.

“What are you doing here?” She managed to get
out while peppering him with kisses. Her heart raced as though
she’d sprinted thirty yards. Lucas made the world look hopeful.

“And I thought you’d be glad to see me.” The
smile in his voice warmed her. She planted another quick kiss on
his lips.

“Never more than right this minute for a
hundred reasons,” she said.

Lucas hugged her tighter. Before releasing
her, he spun her around before setting her on her feet. He kissed
her soundly. Gently. Thoroughly. If she didn’t know better, she’d
swear the kiss curled the ends of her hair.

“Name one reason, Lia.”

“Because I love you.”

Lucas smiled the very same smile she’d
captured in the painting. Her insides melted. Her knees needed
braces to keep her upright.

“I love you, too, Lia Britton.”

She drew back. “You called me, Lia.” Her
heart bounced with joy. Any lingering doubts about whether or not
Lucas still thought of her as Craig’s little sister were completely
erased.

She nuzzled her face against his chest and
hugged him tight, not wanting to let him go.

“I’ve got some good news, Lia.”

She drew back to gaze at him. “I can’t
wait.”

“I managed to talk to Craig’s buyer. Same
company that bought my parents’ farm. I convinced the guy with
reason. I suggested that, if the corporation ever wanted local
workers, a deal might be in their best interest.”

“Deal?” she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear
what might come next.

“They’re willing to take only half the farm,
Craig’s half. They want a first right of refusal if you ever decide
to sell.”

“So I don’t have to buy Craig out?”

“Nope. They will. We just have to get the
corn harvested.” Lucas grasped her hands. “If we’re going to fight
the weather, I’ve got to get back to work. Might not save the whole
crop, but some is better than none.”

“But how did you get here?”

“Got a ride with a crop duster who owns
several planes. Gus lent me his machine. The path of the storm is a
north to south diagonal. Western Kansas won’t get it. My crew is
still working out there. I’ve got the rest of today and tomorrow
before I head back. Gus’s nephew is coming to help with another
machine. Karl rounded up trailers to move the crop.” Lucas kissed
her nose before jogging back to the combine.

“You made all this happen for me? I love you,
Lucas Dwyer.”

“Make me some coffee, woman,” he barked
before climbing into the combine’s cab. “I love you back, Lia
Britton.”

Lia backed away with Jack following at her
heels.

“I love you!” she called, but he’d already
started the engine and put the machine in gear.

Crop or no crop, Craig was wrong. With Lucas,
she’d never fail. He was her heart’s desire.

The End

###

Thank you for reading my book. If you enjoyed
it, please consider leaving a review at your favorite retailer.
Thanks! And now, take a sneak peak of what comes next in the
Sunflower series!

Excerpt from book two of the Sunflower series. Craig Britton
opens the doors to his world
.

“Thirty,” Craig huffed out, then set the dumb
bells back on the rack. He grabbed a towel and mopped his face
before heading across the gym toward the men’s lounge to shower.
Working out five mornings a week before arriving at the office by
seven a.m. provided a physical energizing boost and kicked in his
brain cells in a way coffee never had—his daily to-do list ran
through his mind like a stock ticker on CNN.

His first call of the morning would be to
Lucas Dwyer, his future brother-in-law. What man refused a bachelor
party? He had to convince Lucas to see reason. The men of Harvest
wanted to celebrate with Amelia’s future husband. He’d promised his
sister the event would be tasteful, but what she didn’t know
wouldn’t hurt her. Yes, he planned an old-fashioned stag party with
a bikini-clad woman popping from a cake—something to shock the
always-responsible Lucas. Everything was set. He just needed a
groom.

Craig dodged treadmill row and continued to
the far end of the gym. The only way he’d ever have a bachelor
party, he mused, was vicariously through his best friend. Marriage
just wasn’t in the cards. He enjoyed bachelorhood too much. Rising
early on Saturday mornings to play basketball with the guys, and
Sunday morning sleeping late after a night of bedroom gymnastics
with a date. If he ever needed a taste of family domesticity, he’d
pay a visit to Lia and Lucas—and their future children.

His second call, at exactly seven fifty-five
a.m. would be to Mr. Harris Haywood, entrepreneurial mogul. Landing
the man as a client could increase Craig’s visibility and
credibility with the moneyed members of St. Louis’s top society. It
could skyrocket his career. He smiled at the idea, containing a
surge of anticipation and continued his even stride rather than
running to the lockers.

“Oh, Mr. Britton,” a female voice lilted.
“Would you sign my magazine?” A chorus of flittering giggles
followed the question.

Craig slowed and glanced in the direction of
the voices. Three women neatly dressed in navy blue and white
matching workout gear moved as though tethered together and headed
his way. The middle woman, a blonde in her forties in complete
makeup, held up a Sharpie and waved a copy of the
St. Louis
About Town
magazine at him. His photo graced the front cover as
the Business Man of the Month. Inside, an article detailed his
career climb to success.

The cloud of ladies drifted closer to him.
Meeting near the juice bar, Craig grinned and made eye contact with
each woman, hoping not to disappoint his newest fans. He recognized
the woman who’d called out. The god of irony had smiled on him.

“Good morning, Mrs. Haywood. I’d be happy to
sign.” He recognized her from charity and society events, or mostly
photos he’d seen of them.