Her Heart's Desire (Sunflower Series Book 1) (6 page)

BOOK: Her Heart's Desire (Sunflower Series Book 1)
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“Know about them, do you?”

“No, but remember, I did spend more than a
few years in the Army. I saw life though a different lens, enough
to know I like it here the best.”

“So, my sister is picking up men? I can’t
imagine.”

“Drink your beer,” Lucas said, purposefully
changing the subject. The idea of Amelia in the bar rattled his
brain, too. She had been a wild child until high school, but the
tomboy-type, running a four-wheeler all over the farm. Boys were
the least of her interests, unless she could get them to sit for
her while she painted. Her mother, the transplanted southern belle,
tightened the stays and corseted Amelia’s life once high school
came around. Mrs. Britton taught deportment in etiquette classes
after school and made Amelia sit in the front row.

“Do you remember the time your sister painted
a mural on the side of the hay barn, the one that backs to the west
cornfield? After the crop was harvested, only then did anyone
notice the mural of a bayou, complete with cypress trees, a heron,
and a gator.”

“I’d forgotten about it. A reporter came all
the way from Wichita to interview her about her
masterpiece
and snap some photos. Amelia was twelve. Painted from memory after
a visit to our Louisiana grandparents. Dad finally painted over it
when the mural had mostly blistered and peeled.”

“She’s got great talent,” Lucas said.

“Who’s Karl?”

Lucas drew back. A simple question, but the
answer was complicated. “Mr. Turner’s nephew. This is his younger
sister’s son. From Chicago. He’s trying hard to fit in. Levi’s.
Tony Lamas. Charlie One Horse straw hat. If he’s been on a horse,
it had to be at Turner’s place and long ago. He was asking me about
asking Amelia out before she walked in the storeroom and asked him
out herself.”

“Hmm.”

“Hmm, what? I let it slip that you might not
be happy about the idea. I’m not interfering with your sister’s
life anymore. The two of you have to work it out.”

“Okay.”

“I’m going to punch you. Okay, what?”

“I’ll let her ruin her life. Marry some guy
who doesn’t understand her art, wants her for the land and will
give her lots of kids. That’ll make her real happy, don’t you
think?”

Lucas narrowed his eyes. “You think a local
guy can’t give your sister a good life and love her for who she
is?”

“Well, maybe. But it would be just too
weird.”

Crystal arrived with the food on a tray so
large she struggled setting it down. Lucas rose to assist. The tray
made it to the table without food sliding from the plates. Crystal
placed the full slab of ribs, side items, and extra plates in front
of them, along with a roll of paper towels.

“Always the Boy Scout, Lucas,” Craig
said.

“Always the gentleman,” Crystal replied
smugly. She picked up the empty tray and winked at Lucas before
leaving.

“Have you gone out with her?” Craig
asked.

“Long ago. After her tonsillectomy from you,
but before we graduated college.”

“Back to Amelia. I guess for her to ask a man
for a date, either she’s grown up more than I thought, or gotten
pure lonely at the farm by herself. I hadn’t considered that
eventuality.”

“I’m glad to finally hear your ‘Amelia light
bulb’ is turned on,” Lucas muttered. Maybe grief had clouded
Craig’s judgment, and now it was returning.

“Well, look.” Craig pointed to a spot over
Lucas’s shoulder.

“Hey!” Zoë called out. “Look who it is. CB.
How ya doin’?” She dropped down in the booth next to Lucas causing
him to make room for her. Zoë reached for a piece of garlic bread,
all the while grinning at Craig.

“I’d kiss you, girl, but I’ve got barbecue
lips.” Craig puckered and kissed the air. “How’s your family? Seth
doing okay?”

“Arrived home on leave today. I’m sure you’ll
see him. So...Houston, we have a problem. Lia’s got a date next
Saturday night. Plus, Helen told me Lia’s already been by the café
and ordered her own birthday cake. I’m going to have to let Karl in
on the surprise if we hope to get her to the party,” Zoë said
between chews of bread.

“Karl seems to get around.” Craig said.

Zoë elbowed Lucas. “Yeah, I hear you tried to
put the kibosh on their date. What’s up with that? Karl’s a
good
lookin’ guy. Been around, traveled a lot. Knows more
than how to grow corn or fix a tractor. He’s the white-collar type.
Like our friend here who only wears suits now. Karl could be good
for her.”

“I was following orders,” Lucas grumbled.

“Huh? Craig, that was your fault? I don’t
want to believe it, but Lucas never lies.”

“So, can Karl be trusted or do we stage a
kidnapping?” Craig asked.

The suggestion must have been to Zoë’s
liking. She smiled and drummed her fingers, playing a drum roll on
the table. “A staged kidnapping sounds exciting.”

Lucas groaned. “No. Too undignified. Amelia
would hate it, which would ruin the party for her. Remember, the
whole reason we’re doing this is for her.”

“Well,” Craig interrupted. “If you think we
can trust a newbie like Karl, then we’ll let him in on the secret,
but you’d better be real sure he can keep a confidence. Amelia
refused to celebrate her birthday last year. Too close after the
funeral. We’re making up for last year and celebrating this one,
too. You know how my mother was big on birthdays.”

“Let
me
talk to him, Lucas,” Zoë
purred. “I think I can persuade the man that talking isn’t in his
best interest. And, their date is the perfect cover for the
surprise party. Lia will be so many shades of embarrassed when she
gets there we’ll need a fire hose to cool her cheeks.”

“No, Zoë. I should be the one to take her to
dinner before the party. I’m a better decoy,” Lucas insisted.

Zoë turned and looked him up and down. “That
may have been true once, but I think she’s over you. You had your
chance, dude...and blew it. Several times. If you asked Lia out
now, she’d know for certain something is up. Besides, you’re the
world’s worst liar. That’s one of the things we all love about
you.”

“If I thought Lia would agree to dinner with
you and believe everything was normal, I’d say ask her,” Craig
said. “But, we all know, you asking her out now would be the same
as writing
Warning, Amelia
on the billboard at the entrance
to town. She sees through you like cellophane.”

“If she could see through me, then she
wouldn’t be asking Karl out,” Lucas muttered through a clenched
jaw. His frustration shot up like mercury rising in a thermometer
facing the Midwest sun.

“I don’t like it. Craig, why don’t
you
take your sister out for a family dinner?” Amelia together with
Karl, under any circumstances, would push his blood pressure into
the danger zone.

“She’s barely speaking to me.”

“Talk her into it. Charm her. That way, we
all know our secret is safe.” He couldn’t tell Craig about his
attraction to Amelia before he’d had a chance to show the woman he
loved how much she meant to him. In his plan, they’d break the news
to her brother together. But first, he had to get past the guards
holding Amelia’s heart in lockdown. Zoë was right. He’d had chances
in the past and blew them, but he was resourceful. Now he’d create
a new one.

“Karl is our decoy.” Zoë rose. “Got to get
back to the horde. See you both tomorrow.”

“Glad that’s settled,” Craig said, digging
into his food.

Lucas frowned as Zoë rejoined her family.
Karl a decoy? That idea churned his irritation like a carnival
round-up ride, the twirling centrifuge. Somehow, he had to move
Karl out of the picture.

“Hey, where are you?” Craig waved his hand.
“Look, I know you said you were through with my plan to get Amelia
back to the city, but I need your help, man, one last time. Have a
chat with Karl. Tell him no more than two dates. I’m going to
protect Amelia’s interest and will do so until I die. She’s moving
back to the city. That’s the end of that.”

Lucas grunted. “Okay. This
one
last
time.”

He’d help, but only because it served his
interests, too, and an idea began taking shape, and soon he’d allow
his feelings for Amelia to unfurl.

But was Zoë right? Was he too late?

 

 

 

Chapter 5

 

Lia sat alone on the wide back deck with her
legs stretched long in a chaise lounge. Gentle breezes ruffled her
hair and whispered through the corn. A few birds warbled, calling
to each other in the nearby trees. A butterfly danced from flower
to flower in the garden surrounding the deck. She flipped her robe
closed to cover her legs. Her mood matched the overcast sky. Low
hanging clouds brought hope for a chance of rain to water the
crops. Yet the same gray clouds dragged in dreariness, hid
sunlight, and swept cheerfulness away. Compared to this time last
year, her heart lifted buoyantly, but would it ever totally
heal?

She sipped Earl Grey tea strongly dosed with
cream and sugar and tried to distract her mind from the movie
playing repeatedly in her head, the one from a year ago when the
whole town and half the county had turned out for her parents’
funeral. With Craig by her side, they’d greeted everyone and
thanked them for coming. The funeral at the Methodist church seemed
more like a bad dream. She’d pinched herself through the entire
service. To her ears, each breath she took produced a roar like
that of water rushing over a dam. The noise drowned out most of the
service. When the funeral home attendants simultaneously closed the
caskets on her mother and father, she had drowned in tears.

The painful memory remained emblazed in her
mind. With the sleeve of her robe, she dotted the tears now
trickling down her cheeks. If Lucas hadn’t been there that day, she
might have died of heartbreak. He was solid. Salt of the earth. A
man deserving of praise and respect, and in her case, adoration.
Her lips gravitated to his. Just thinking of him warmed her. He
personified the best of every ancient hero she’d ever read about,
but when it came understanding her feelings for him, Lucas hadn’t
connected the dots any better than Lois Lane had between Clark Kent
and Superman. How could Lucas
not
see her feelings for
him?

Last year during the funeral service at
church, she and Craig had sat alone in the first pew. Just the two
of them, like orphans. No family came from Louisiana. No long-lost
Midwest cousins arrived. Lucas and his sister, Megan, sat in the
middle of the pew behind them. Zoë and her big family flanked them.
Craig maintained his composure—actually, the ordeal left him numb,
shocked, emotionless, so much so it frightened her. She, on the
other hand, had emoted enough grief for the two of them.

Later, about a month after the funeral, the
first time Lia had ventured to town, she waited in line at the
Sunflower Café and overheard a conversation. An elderly woman
whispered, not so quietly, that she’d never seen a more gallant
gesture than Lucas’s at the funeral.

“My heart ached when the Brittons’ caskets
were closed. Amelia began wailing to wake...well, the dead. Lucas
climbed over the pew—never minding anyone—and cradled Lia while she
sobbed. That man held her like she was the most precious thing in
the world.”

Lia pretended she hadn’t heard a word, but on
her way out of the shop, the elderly woman grasped Lia’s arm,
squeezed, nodding, she said, “Lucas is a keeper.”

Lucas had offered comfort that day. He folded
her into his arms while she trembled and cried until she had
finally caught her breath.

She still couldn’t recall the rest of the
service.

But she remembered Lucas’s strength, the
safety of his embrace. When she’d buried her face next to his warm
chest, his heart beat with life when everything else around her
reeked of coldness and death.

And, she remembered with great clarity, much
later that night, his kiss. Warm. Loving. Tender.

“Good morning!” Craig slid the glass door to
the porch open. “Thanks for making coffee for me.”

Startled, she shook her head to clear the
clouds hanging around. Had she fallen asleep? She lifted a finger
to her lips, expecting to feel the lingering heat of Lucas’s lips.
When she didn’t, the measure of disappointment surprised her.

“You’re welcome. Are you ready for today?”
she asked, her voice throaty, as though she’d just woken.

Craig squeezed her shoulder before sliding
into the chair next to hers. “It’s been a hard year.” The graveness
of his voice let her know he, too, experienced the gravity of the
day. “A year of firsts.”

“No Halloween party in the barn, no
Thanksgiving dinner. Christmas without them. Ringing in the New
Year without seed catalogs and dates for farm equipment auctions,”
she whispered.

“Amelia, you can’t hide this holiday season.
We only get out of life what we put in it. Our world didn’t
completely die because we buried them. They’ll haunt us if we don’t
set aside our grief and get on with living.”

Lia reached for his hand. “You’ve managed
that quite nicely. Promotion at work. New sports car. I know you’re
trying to do the big brother thing for me. Believe it or not, I’m
stepping into new shoes today.”

“Something you found in one of those boxes in
the barn?”

Lia chuckled. “Well, I meant it figuratively,
but now that you brought it up. Yes, I found a box with new shoes.
I’ll wear them this afternoon. They’re scandalous for a memorial
service. Purple suede with gold platform bottoms. Totally like
Mother.”

“Speaking of firsts, you asked the newbie out
on a date?”

“News travels fast. You haven’t been home for
twenty-four hours and you know all the latest gossip. Yes, I have a
date with Karl next Saturday. I don’t want to talk about it, at
least not until tomorrow. I just need to feel today… I know this
service will be different from last year’s, which had me quaking in
my boots. I’d never before lost control like that.”

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