Lucas (15 page)

“Are you two ready
yet?” Sam asked, peeking his head out of the study.

They looked at each
other and Lucas held out his hand. “No matter what happens?”

“No matter what
happens,” she affirmed.

“Let’s go.”

“Hank, wait,”

Sam called after his
brother, who’d stormed from the study.

“Let him go,” Mara
said, placing a hand on Sam’s arm, but Lucas couldn’t do that.

He pushed himself up
out of his chair, leaned down and kissed Lucy smack on the mouth, then grabbed
his coat from the back of the chair and followed after his uncle.

When he got outside, Hank
sat on the bench he’d carved and placed under the tree at the foot of his
father’s grave, his elbows resting on his knees, his hat in his hand. Lucas
shoved his hands in his pockets and slowly made his way toward him. The thick
snowflakes fell peacefully to the ground and it felt as if they had stepped
into a bubble that silenced the rest of the world.

Lucas sat down next to
Hank and leaned back against the bench.

“You are very talented.
I’ve never seen craftsmanship like this before. It’s beautiful.”

“What do you want,
Lucas?” Hank exhaled, his breath making small clouds in the cold air.

“I want to know why you
hate me so much.” The time for mincing words was over.

Hank looked up at him,
then sat up straight.

“I don’t hate you,
Lucas.” He paused for a long while. “Look, can we not do this right now?”

“I understand that
you’re upset.” Lucas was still shocked at the generosity of his grandfather,
and he understood how Hank might feel that his inheritance, and that of his
father and brothers, was undeserving.

“Upset…Lucas. I just
lost my father and I feel like I am losing my brother all over again. Yes, I’m
upset.” He threw himself against the back of the bench.

“I don’t understand.”
How could he lose his brother again? He wasn’t even here.

Hank pushed himself up
and started to walk away.

“Help me understand,
Uncle Hank.” Lucas called to his uncle’s retreating form. He rose too, but stood
firmly rooted to the ground.

Hank stopped.

“Don’t you need to get
back to your ranch in Oregon? You got what you came for, right? Your
inheritance.” He took another step, then turned back again. “Oh, and don’t
worry, we’ll pay you for the house.”

“You know, despite what
you said before, I’m not like my father, Hank. I am here! Right now. And I’m
staying.”

Clickity click.

“Not if I can help it.”

Lucas whipped around in
time to see Gilroy Hearn step out from behind the old oak tree, gun cocked.

Hank growled low in his
throat. “How did you get away from Jeffers?”

Lucas stepped between
his uncle and the jilted groom, but Hank came up quickly behind him.

“Now, you just stay put
there, Hank.” Hearn waved the gun Lucas suspected belonged to Sheriff Jeffers
at Hank, motioning for him to stay back. “I wouldn’t want nobody to get hurt.
All I want is what your daddy promised me. You know, that girl’s dowry. And then,”
he flung his hands haphazardly in the air, “I’ll be on my way. Oh,” he said as
an afterthought, “after I kill this one, that is.”

“Do you really want to
add murder to your list of crimes?”

“Don’t reckon it
matters much now. Had you just let me marry the girl, none of this would have
happened.”

“The girl has a name,”
Lucas spat. “And she’s too smart to end up with a hooligan like you.”

“I know she’s got a
name. Miss Lucy Russell from New York City.” He jerked his head to the side,
preferably from the cold. “Now, just where is Miss Russell?”

Hank moved ever so
slightly behind Lucas. He had to be pulling his gun.

“You might as well just
toss it out right here where I can see it, Deardon. Lucas here got the drop on
me once, but it’s not going to happen again.”

Hank tossed his gun out
onto the snow.

“Hearn…” Hank paused.
“Roy,” he was going to try a different approach. “It might be difficult to give
you Lucy’s dowry. It’s the main homestead here on Whisper Ridge. That’s what
she gets when she marries. I’m not so sure you’ll be wanting that after today.”

Gilroy rubbed his chin
between his fingers, considering what Hank had told him.

“So, why don’t I offer
you a dozen horses and enough money to start over? Anywhere you like.”

“You must take me for a
fool, Deardon.”

Lucas watched every
flinch, every shiver, waiting for his moment.

“Not yet,” Hank warned
in a low whisper as he stepped past Lucas, his hands in the air, palms forward.

“Come on, Roy. Let’s
settle this like gentlemen.”

“That’s far enough.” He
reached into his back pocket, pulled out a set of handcuffs, and tossed them on
the ground. “Pick ‘em up. Real slow like.”

Hank scrunched down to
retrieve the restraints. “Where’d you get these, Roy? Where’s the sheriff?”

“Let’s just say Ol’
Jeffers’ll have quite a headache when he wakes up. Now, you sit down right over
there on the ground next to that bench. You’re gonna handcuff yourself to the
leg.”

“There’s no need for
that, Hearn.” Lucas’s jaw pulsed with constrained anger.

“I think there is. See,
I take you down here and I’m a dead man.” He looked back at Hank. “Go on.”

Hank’s eyes flitted to
Lucas for a brief moment as he moved back toward the bench and he nodded.

Lucas chastised himself
for leaving his gun next to his bed.

“Done,” Hank called.

Gilroy flicked his
wrist at Lucas, motioning toward the stable. “Turn around,
Lucas
. We’re going
for a little ride.”

As they passed by the
bench, with the gun still aimed at Lucas, Gilroy bent down to check that the
handcuffs had been secured. Hank came at him with a large fallen branch and
cocked him unsuspectingly in the jaw, sending the man sprawling backward.

Hearn recovered almost
instantly, the gun still in his hand. “I warned you, Hank.” He pointed the gun
directly at his uncle, his finger squeezing the trigger.

“Stop!” Lucas screamed.
“I’ll go with you, willingly. Just leave him alone. You wanted me. You’ve got
me.”

Gilroy walked up to
Hank, still fighting to catch his breath, and landed a punch with his gunned
hand in the jaw. Hank fell to the ground out cold.

Lucas breathed his
momentary relief that Hank hadn’t gotten himself shot. He looked at Hearn, his
blood pumping fiercely through his veins, his temples pulsing violently, his
teeth clenched.

Do something!
Lucas scanned the
yard, looking for anything he could use as leverage. Nothing.

Hearn closed the
distance between them quickly, sticking the gun into the back of Lucas’s ribs.
“Want to try something else, hero?”

“Just take it easy,
okay. What is it that you want from me?” he asked as they walked toward the
stables.

“You said you were
going to marry Lucy. She love you?”

“Yes.”

“You love her?”

“Yes.”

The door to the stables
was open, which Lucas found odd with everyone gone into town for the afternoon.
He looked down to see Jake, tied and gagged, slumped on the ground behind the
tall work counter.

Snort. Whinny.

Adonis and one of the
mares they’d used for the Thanksgiving Day race had been readied and tied to
the front stall gate. Despite his madness, Gilroy Hearn was no idiot. Lucas
looked for anything he could use as a weapon, but everything was just too far
out of reach.

“Up ya go,” he said,
holding the gun higher, pointing to a saddled Adonis.

Hope filtered its way
into the dire situation and Lucas mounted. Gilroy appeared to be an experienced
rider, as he pulled himself up onto the mare’s back, the aim of his gun never
faltering.

“Easy now. We’re going
to cross the bridge and head off Deardon property to the south.”

Lucas kissed the air
and nudged Apollo forward.

“And, Lucas, don’t try
anything funny. I’d hate for anything to happen to that horse,” Gilroy threatened.

Clomp. Clomp. The snow
crunched beneath the horse’s feet. Lucas waited until they reached the middle,
then he squeezed his knees together signaling Adonis to rear. Lucas slid easily
to the opposite side of the horse, effectively hiding himself from the brute.
However, the action startled Gilroy’s mare. Her feet slid on the newly frozen
wood and she bucked Hearn off, sending a stray shot into the air.

Lucas pulled himself
back up in time to see Hearn tumble from the edge of the bridge.

He closed his eyes with
relief. “Whoa, boy,” he called as he patted and rubbed Adonis’s neck. “Good
job.”

The mare Hearn had been
riding, stomped and pranced on the fresh snow piling up on the grassy bank at
the base of the bridge. There was no time to collect her now, he needed to get
back to uncle Hank to make sure he was all right. He pulled Adonis around.

BOOM!

Adonis reared again,
and Lucas slid backward, but his hands tightened on the reins and he stayed
mounted. When he gained control, he looked up to see Uncle Hank running toward
him, a rifle in hand, and Gilroy Hearn lying face down in a rapidly forming
pool of his own blood, gun outstretched, pointed toward him.

He could have killed
me.

Lucas dismounted, his
chest heaving with ragged breaths, his heart racing.

Hank barreled into him,
grasping Lucas’s body in his vice-like arms. He pounded Lucas’s back a few
times before he finally let him go.

“You said you’re
staying,” he said as he sucked in a lungful of air, “and I’m going to hold you
to that.” He wrapped an arm around him and patted his shoulder as they started
back across the bridge.

“Yes, sir.”

“Let’s start with you
calling me Hank.”

Lucy couldn’t have
imagined a more beautiful day surrounded by family and newfound friends.
Whisper Ridge had been the perfect location for their wedding. She looked out
of their bedroom window at the snow-covered ground, a frosty blanket of glittering
diamonds and smiled. She was home.

Lucas came to stand
behind her, his hands running down the length of her arms, then he wrapped her tightly
in the warmth of his embrace as they stared together out at the old oak tree.

“Do you, Lucy Russell,
promise to love me,” Lucas kissed her on the side of the neck, “to cherish me,”
he trailed his kisses up to her ear, “and to honor me, all the days of thy
life?” he asked as he turned her to face him.

“I do,” she replied, as
she stared lovingly into the catch-lights of his mesmerizingly blue eyes. The
moon’s beams filled their bedroom with a soft winter’s light that contrasted
beautifully with the glow of the fire burning in the hearth.

“And do you, Lucas
Samuel Deardon, promise to love
me
,” she slipped her cool hands beneath
the fabric of his open shirt and ran them up his bared chest, “to cherish me,”
she combed her fingers through the short hairs at the nape of his neck, “and to
honor me, all the days of thy life?” She bit her lip and smiled.

“Forever, my love. And
always.”

“Then,
we
, Lucas
Deardon, will always be happy together. We are home.”

THE END