Lucas (3 page)

Montana, Dakota Territory, November

“When do you expect Mr.
Deardon to return?” The gangly man in a dark green bowler hat inquired with a
slight wiggle of his nose as he tried to readjust how his spectacles sat just
below its bridge.

Wisps of snow had begun
to fall again and now swirled in flurries around the man’s head. Truth was,
Liam should have been back from Virginia City days ago and Lucy worried that he
would get caught in the coming storm.

“I know you mean well,
Mr. Tacy, but I’m afraid I do not have any more information for you. I will see
to it that Mr. Deardon knows you stopped by.” She moved to close the door, but
the man stuck his head inside, startling her. She jumped backward with a quick
intake of breath.

“It is a matter of the
utmost importance.”

Quickly collecting
herself, she smiled at him with patience she didn’t feel. “I understand. Thank
you.” She pushed on the door until he was forced to retract his head and it
closed completely. She leaned against it and blew a stray lock of hair from her
eyes. Taking over the running of this household seemed a better idea a month
ago when she’d faced destitution on the street.

Where are you, Liam?
The man had become like
the grandfather she’d never known. He was a good man. She just hoped he wasn’t
freezing out there. She made a mental note to have the foreman bring in another
bundle of firewood for the hearth. He’d be home soon. From the way he spoke of
the annual and much celebrated Deardon Thanksgiving Day tournament and feast,
he wouldn’t miss it.

Knock. Knock.

Lucy shook her head and
spun to open the door.

“I thought I told
you...”

Her head motioned
backward at the sight of the tall, dark-haired man with brilliant blue eyes who
stared down at her. To her surprise, it was not the lanky young lawyer, but a
stranger—though there was something oddly familiar about him. He was a
beautiful man.

Stop that, Lucy Russell.
She cleared her
throat.

The stranger looked
behind him.

“I’m guessing that was
meant for him?” He pointed to the well-dressed man who lifted his foot from the
mud puddle he’d just found in front of his little metal carriage and looked
back at the house with a scowl.

Lucy giggled and waved.
She couldn’t help herself.

“I’m sorry to disturb
you, ma’am,” the stranger said, pulling her from her wicked thoughts, “but I
was wondering if this is where I might find Mr. William Deardon.”

“This is Mr. Deardon’s
residence. May I help you?”

“Will you please tell
him that Lucas is here to speak with him?”

“Lucas?” She recognized
the name and her heart nearly jumped from her chest.

“Lucas Deardon, ma’am.
His grandson.”

Oh, my.

She’d thought the other
Deardon men were handsome, but nothing had prepared her for this Deardon man. Liam
had recounted how he had written to his estranged son, Gabriel, just after
she’d arrived with the hopes of reconnecting with him and his boys by inviting
them to Whisper Ridge for the holidays. By the way Liam had spoken of his
grandsons, she half expected Lucas to be a young boy of ten or twelve, not a
grown man.

She just stared at him
for a moment.

“Ma’am,” he said,
pulling her from her thoughts.

“Is your father with
you? Your brothers?” she asked expectantly, stepping up onto her toes in an
attempt to look behind him. That wasn’t going to work. He had to measure at
least six feet, if not more.

“No, ma’am.” He fiddled
with the hat in his hand. “I’ve come alone.” He met her eyes, his jaw
set—prepared for the worst. She’d seen that look before. On Liam. She wanted to
invite him in, but worried about the propriety of it. Tillie, the family’s cook
was in town gathering last minute supplies for the feast. Nancy, the
housekeeper, had already come and gone for the day. And now, Lucy was the only
one left in the house.

The sound of an excited
bark filled the otherwise quiet house.

She turned to see
Brewster, a beautiful border collie bounding toward her from the kitchen.

“Lucy, are you in here?
The snow is coming dow...” Alex, one of Liam’s daughters-in-law, stopped short
as she walked into the living area, her normally quaffed hair, sopping wet.
Lucy marveled at how the woman could still look so beautiful.

Thank you,
she offered silently
at having another woman in the house.

“Oh, I didn’t realize
you had a guest.” Alex moved to the archway into the parlor and leaned against
it, raising an appreciative brow at the man.

Lucy narrowed her eyes
in a warning. Alex and Mara, the ladies of Whisper Ridge, had been trying to
convince her that most men were not like Gilroy Hearn and she should give the
marriage idea another thought. She wasn’t against the notion, especially with
someone who looked like this Mr. Deardon, but she wasn’t in any hurry.

As Brewster reached
her, she bent down to pet the dog, but he leapt past her, headed straight for
Liam’s grandson, and jumped up with his front paws onto the man’s legs.

“Down, boy!” she
called. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Deardon. Normally, he’s much better behaved,” she
said, trying to keep the giggle from her voice as she coaxed the animal off of
him. “Please, come in.”

The last thing Lucas
had expected was for a young, strikingly beautiful woman to answer his
grandfather’s door. The friendly pup had surprised him too. He dropped down
onto his haunches, allowing the dog to lick the side of his face.

“Hahaha.” A hearty
laugh escaped, despite himself. He reached into his pocket, retrieved his last
piece of jerky, and gave it to the pup. “What’s his name?” he asked as he stood
up, watching the dog prance into another room with the dried meat dangling from
his mouth.

Lucas suddenly felt
more at ease than he had a moment before.

“That would be,
Brewster.” The woman stood aside, motioning for him to walk inside the enormous
house. She pointed toward a parlor room at the front. “You really shouldn’t
indulge him. He already thinks he owns the place.”

The heavenly aroma of
fresh baked bread and roasting meat induced visions of a warm home-cooked
meal—something Lucas hadn’t eaten in a month’s time. He ignored the loud
rumbling sound that churned in his belly as he shook off the chill and reached
up to brush off the snowflakes accumulated on his coat, biting back the curse
that threatened at the awkward movement.

Blasted shoulder
. It had been nearly a
month and the arm was still giving him problems. Pain had become an unwelcome
part of his life. Most of the time it didn’t bother him, but once in a while
when he moved it just so, it protested in the form of sharp, stabbing pains.
Today was his lucky day.

“Thank you, kindly,” he
said as he wiped his boots on the mat and stepped over the threshold. He
removed his hat and nodded at the blond woman standing in the archway, who
watched him carefully as he followed the younger woman to the couch in front of
the window.

“I’m afraid Mr. Deardon
is...” she cleared her throat and started again. “I’m afraid your...grandfather,
is unavailable right now.”

The blond woman’s eyes
opened wide and with an oddly conspiratorial smile, she moved into the room and
extended her hand.

“Grandfather?” she eyed
him speculatively. “You must be one of Gabe’s boys.”

Lucas stood and took
her hand. “Yes, ma’am. The youngest.” He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to
say. He’d rehearsed the speech to his granddad hundreds of times over the last
few weeks, but hadn’t as much as thought about anyone else.

“Lucas?”

He nodded.

“I don’t know if you’ll
remember me, but I’m Alexandra. Alex,” she clarified. “I’m married to your
father’s youngest brother, Sam.”

He glanced over at the
woman who’d answered the door and couldn’t help but wonder if
she
was
someone’s wife.

“I’m sorry.” He shook
his head. “It is very nice to meet you, ma’am.” He barely remembered his
grandparents. And at home, neither he, nor his brothers, had been allowed to
talk about any of their extended family—except for Aunt Leah, of course, who
wouldn’t have let his father cut her out if he’d tried.

“Well, that’s all right,
dear.” She turned to the other. “He certainly has the good manners of any
Deardon I’ve known or raised.” With a smile, she looked back at him. “I’m sure
the next few days will offer the opportunity for us to get reacquainted.”

“I hope so, ma’am.”
Lucas nodded.

“Aunt Alex,” she corrected
with a smile. “Well, I think you’ll fit in just fine around here,” she said
with a satisfied nod. “You’re only a little older than a couple of our boys.
They’ll show you around,” she said with a satisfied nod. “Now, I’m sure Lucy
will see to it that you are taken care of until your granddad returns.” She
turned her attention to the woman standing beside him. “Any word?”

“Not yet.”

Alex nodded. “Well,
maybe we should keep you a secret. For now,” she added with a little twinkle in
her eye. “I’d hate for Liam to think I’d stolen his surprise. I’m just going to
grab some sugar to finish the pies for Thanksgiving.” She took a step closer
and threw her arms around him. “Welcome home, Lucas.”

Lucy started toward her
as if to say something, but Alex wiggled her fingers in a wave as she
disappeared, almost as quickly as she’d arrived.

Hmhmmmmh.

Lucy cleared her throat,
her fingers lingering against the soft-looking skin of her neck. When she
turned back toward him, she smiled nervously as she walked to the opposite end
of the couch and sat down, motioning for him to do the same.

He sat.

“Mr. Deardon, I hope
your reasons for coming to Whisper Ridge are admirable. I know he sent for you,
but Liam is a very generous man and I would hate to see anyone take advantage
of him. No one seems to know much, if anything, about you.”

Sent for me?
He leaned a little
closer to her.

“Honestly, I expected to
meet a child when you arrived, not…not…” she met his eyes, a dark pink staining
her cheeks. “Well, you’re not a child.”

“No.” He chuckled
quietly and smiled, hoping to put her more at ease.

She returned his smile.

“Sorry,” she said,
raising her hands in the air and dropping them again in her lap. “I guess I’m a
little nervous.”

Honest. He liked that.

“It’s no surprise that
no one here knows much about me or my family, ma’am. I haven’t been here at
Whisper Ridge since I was five years old.” Lucas did not feel like recounting
how his father had been disinherited and had kept all of his children away from
their grandfather for so long. Besides, she probably already knew enough about
them to know that, and he’d rather not know exactly how much she knew.

Sent for him?
The idea needled him
again.