Lucas (7 page)

Lucas nodded, then
turned back to his grandfather and sat down on the edge of the bed, leaning
over as if to be closer to the man.

“Jonah got married,” he
blurted. He wanted to tell his grandfather all the good things that had
happened in their lives and not just the bad. He hadn’t had that chance at
dinner. “Emma is perfect for him. And dang pretty too. It’s quite a story.” He
glanced over at Lucy who sat on the hearth with her elbows on her knees and her
chin in her hands. He winked.

“Lucas?” his
grandfather spoke with a low, scratchy voice as he reached up and touched his
grandson’s face. “I’m so glad you’re really here.”

Lucas closed his eyes
with gratitude. With everything that had happened over the last few hours, he
wasn’t sure if his granddad would be able to recall their conversations. He
reached up to take the old man’s hand in his.

“Yes. I’m here.”

Lucy stood up again and
poured a glass of water, handed it to Lucas, and motioned at Liam with a nod of
her head. Lucas gently placed one hand under his grandfather’s head and placed
the cup against his lips, willing him to drink. After only a couple of sips, he
choked on the water and it drizzled down his chin.

“Argggg,” Liam said
disgustedly as he wiped it away with the back of his hand and pushed himself up
into a seated position on the bed. “Now, there’s no need to fuss over me.” He
took the cup from Lucas’s hand. “I know you both feel like you have to hover,
but I am a grown man and can drink for myself.”

“Ha,” Lucas laughed,
evoking a reluctant smile from his grandfather.

“Of course you can,
Granddad.”

Liam set the glass on
the night table.

“How are you feeling?”
Lucy asked the older man from her position on the other side of the bed.

Granddad turned to look
at her. “Like a herd of wild horses dragged me through an icy swamp.” He
shivered with exaggerated movements, but managed a smile. With an attempt to
get out of the bed, he threw the covers off his legs and swung them over the
edge.

“Oh, no you don’t,”
Lucy said, jumping up and pushing gently against the old man’s chest. “You have
to rest. Doctor’s orders.” She threw the blankets back over him and brushed her
hand across his forehead. “And you…” she said as she squinted her eyes at him,
“are going to do what the doctor ordered.”

Lucas couldn’t help but
admire the woman who’d demonstrated more than once over the last few hours her devotion
to his grandfather. Who was she to him? And why was he so bent on making sure
she became a part of the family?

“Come on, Luce. I’m
feeling much better. Thanksgiving is near upon us and we’ve still got a lot to
do to finish the preparations.”

“Nonsense.” She placed
her hands on her hips. “Most everything has been in place for days. What’s a
little weather when a Deardon is involved? Besides, Lucas will help me with the
final prep—”

“I will?”

She slapped him on the
arm.

He cleared his throat.
“I mean, I will!” he confirmed with conviction.

“Although,” Lucy
continued, “If this storm doesn’t let up, we may have to postpone or even cancel
the Thanksgiving tournament.” A smile cracked on Lucy’s face before her
expression turned matter-of-fact.

Lucas smiled too.

“Cancel Thanksgiving?”
Granddad bellowed, or at least he tried, but his cry lacked volume. “Why,
Thanksgiving is a tradition around here. A rite of passage for my boys. Come
hell or high water we’re having the tournament.”

“Oh, don’t you go working
yourself up into a tizzy,” Lucy mock-scolded him. She glanced out the window.
“It looks like the snow is letting up some. Denver and some of the others are
still out there, so I think we’ll just head out to check that everything will
be ready. I’ll stop by to see Hank on the way. He’ll already be cross that I
didn’t tell him about this little episode sooner.”

“My son will just blow
everything out of proportion. You know that just as well as anyone. He’ll be
fine not knowing ‘til morning.” Granddad raised an eyebrow as if daring Lucy to
go against his wishes.

She stared at the older
man through squinted eyes, then a fully vibrant smile broke through. “The targets
must be covered in a foot of snow by now. We’ll have to get them brushed off before
they freeze if you still want to have the archery and shooting competitions.”
She completely ignored his last comment. “Mara and Alex are bringing the pies
tomorrow, Tillie has recruited several of the men to help with the food for the
orphanage, and I’ll speak with Denver about the big logs tomorrow.”

Names swirled around in
Lucas’s head. Belonging to a big family was going to have its challenges and
learning everyone’s names and keeping them straight was going to be one of
them.

“They are cabers,
lassie. It is to be a caber toss to find the strongest of the lot.”

Their grandmother had
been born in Scotland, but it was odd hearing his granddad trying to imitate
the brogue.

“Yes, yes, cabers,” she
waved at the air as if making a mental list of everything she needed to do. “Well,
I think that just about does it.”

“Luuucyyyy,” Granddad
said, a warning in his voice.

“Fine, I won’t tell
Hank. Until tomorrow,” she clarified.

“What did I do all
those years without you?” Liam asked through a tired smile.

Lucy smiled back.

“Goodnight, Mr.
Deardon,” she said with a playful shake to her head.

“Goodnight, Miss Russell.
Or should I say soon-to-be Deardon?” He closed his eyes and lay back against
the onslaught of pillows Lucy had stuck behind him. “Yep. Deardon. Now that
it’s settled, I think I might doze for just a wee bit,” he made another attempt
at his brogue. He coughed.

“You’re incorrigible.
We are not getting married, so stop pestering your grandson if you want him to
stick around.”

“Lucas. Son,” Granddad
opened his eyes and sat up straighter on the bed—with some effort, “I expect
you’ll be participating?”

“In what, exactly?” He liked
Lucy, but he wasn’t about to unwittingly agree to take on a Mrs. Lucas Deardon
on a whim. Although the prospect didn’t seem as terrifying as it had a few
hours ago.

“In what?” Liam asked
incredulously. “Didn’t your father tell you any...?” his voice faded as he
shook his head and mumbled something under his breath. He stopped and looked
Lucas straight in the eye. “You’re a Deardon...”

Lucas had the right
name, but he sure felt like a foreigner with no idea what they would be doing
to prepare for Thanksgiving. Back home, it was most like any other day, except,
Dad paid Mrs. Markham to cook them up a fancy bird to eat with all the fixings.
He imagined that Emma would be making something real special for those still at
home. She was an excellent cook.

Cough.

Granddad sat up again.
“…and you’ll be competing in the Deardon’s Thanksgiving Day Tournament, of
course.”

“We have a tournament?”

Lucy pushed Liam back
against the fluffed pillows. “
If
the weather clears up,” she amended.
“Every year, the Deardons celebrate the holiday with a huge competition,” she
told Lucas. “There are three homesteads on Whisper Ridge. Liam’s, Hank’s, and
Sam’s. I guess your father never finished building his. Though you can see
where he started.”

Lucas had wondered what
had ever happened to the foundation he’d seen his father working to build for
their family—one of the only memories he still had of his time at Whisper
Ridge.

“The others will start
arriving first thing on Thursday morning.” She patted Liam on the chest. “If
you
want to be well enough to get out of this bed and watch them, I suggest you get
some rest.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Liam
said, closing one eye, but keeping the other partially open, staring at her.

“What sort of
competition?” Lucas rubbed his arm, which started to ache just thinking about
what might await him. “And please tell me the teams are not divided into
homesteads. I think ours would be slightly lacking.” He managed a laugh.

“Come on,” she pulled on
his good arm.

He groaned, but
followed her out of the room.

“It’ll be grand,”
Granddad called after them.

“What sort of competition?”
He repeated his question as they descended the stairs.

When they reached the
bottom, Lucy turned to him. “There’s to be a log toss, an archery match, a
stick pull, leg wrestling, and a riding course. I just hope we can pull it off
with all this snow. It will certainly be a challenge.”

There were no words.
How was he supposed to hold his salt in a competition with his shoulder still
causing him pain? Jonah told him before he left that he should give the injury
time to mend, but he’d wanted to leave for Whisper Ridge as soon as he’d been
able. The journey had proven more arduous than he had expected. Riding full
days and sleeping on the cold, hard ground every night as he traveled to
Montana hadn’t helped the situation.

“You’ve had quite the
long ride, Mr. Deardon, and with the water tower disaster and the unfortunate
mishap with your grandfather, you must be exhausted. You don’t have to
participate if you’re not feeling up to it. Your uncles and cousins won’t think
any less of you. And neither will I. Liam,” she waved her hand up the stairs, “will
get over it.”

Lucas stared at her for
a few moments.

Pain or not, Deardon, you
are going to do this.

“Where do I sign up?”
He pretended the crack in his voice had been on purpose.

Lucy giggled.

Lucas liked the sound.

“Good morning.” Lucy
crooned as she threw back the curtains in Liam’s bedroom to allow in the
brilliant beams of the morning’s light. “Tillie made up some hot cakes, eggs,
and bacon so you’ll have a hearty breakfast to start off your day.” She walked
over to the table for the tray with the delicious collection of food.

With only one eye
opened, Liam leaned up on one arm. “I’d forgotten how cheerful you can be when
the sun comes up,” he grumbled.

“You look like you are
feeling much better,” she said, happily.

“Yeah, thanks to that
grandson of mine.”

Lucy’s face heated at
the thought of the tall, handsome addition to Whisper Ridge.

“Where is that boy,
anyway?”

“He’s been up since the
cock crowed near an hour ago.” She placed the tray on his lap. “Helping Denver with
the horses.”

“So much fussin’. I can
eat down at the table as well as anyone.”

“Not today. Just let us
spoil you for once.”

“I need you to make
good use of him this morning, Lucy. Show him around the place. I’d like him to
stay on and don’t want to waste any time getting him familiarized with the
ranch. All of it.”

“Well, I see my patient
is up and talking.” Doc pushed open the door a little farther and stepped into
the room, his bag in hand. “How are you feeling this morning, Liam?”

“Right as rain. Ready
to get back to work.”

Doc looked from Liam to
Lucy. “Under no circumstances is this man to leave this house today.”

“Yes, sir,” Lucy said
with a smile. She knew it would be no easy feat, but it could be done. “You heard
him,” she said, pouring a glass of fresh milk, “doctor’s orders.”

Liam mumbled something
under his breath just as he raised his cup to drink.

The spark was back in
his eyes and that gave her comfort.

She turned to leave.

“Lucy Mae,” Liam
called.

She turned back to look
at him.

“Lucas.” He said his
grandson’s name as a reminder of what he’d asked of her.

She nodded. “I’ll see
to it that he’s kept busy and out of trouble all day. And I’ll be back to check
in on you in a while.” She skipped from the room and down the steps. After a
very eventful day, she was ready for things to get back to normal—not that it
was going to happen anytime soon. Especially with Lucas Deardon on the ranch. Whisper
Ridge was interesting before, but now with him around, she couldn’t wait to see
what would happen next.

Lucy caught herself glancing
into the mirror in the hall on her way into the kitchen.

He’s already said he has
no interest in a wife
,
she reminded herself. Still, she couldn’t stop herself from humming. She had a
feeling it was going to be a very good day.

“Morning, Tillie.”

“Yes it is.” The cook
punched the dough with a raised brow. “What’s gotten into you? Yesterday you
were a bundle of nerves, and now…”

“Oh, nothing. Can’t a
girl just be happy?” Lucy grabbed an apron off the hook behind the closet door
and quickly tied it around her waist. “How many do you think we’ve got this
morning?”

“Ten. I’ll bet Camilla
doesn’t have one.”

Lucy opened the door
and hurried through the cool morning breeze, crunching the snow beneath her
feet, to the enclosed chicken coop where several hens sat as if they hadn’t a
care in the world.

“Hello, ladies. What do
you have for me today?” She gathered up her apron to cradle the eggs as she
checked beneath each of the eleven hens in the coop. Ten eggs.

How does she do it?

When she emerged from
the pen, she spotted Lucas walking toward her from the barn. His hat rode low
on his head and there was a swagger to his step.

“Feeling better?” She
asked as he approached.

“I’ve never slept in a
more comfortable bed.” His eyes grew wide. “Excuse me, ma’am. I meant to say, I
slept well. Thank you.”

Lucy giggled. “I said
the exact same thing when I arrived.”

Lucas visibly relaxed.

“Liam likes quality and
feels like everyone works better when they’ve had a good night’s sleep. Even
the beds in the bunkhouse were imported.”

“How is my granddad
this morning? Can I see him?”

“I don’t see why not.
The doctor is with him now, but you should be able to go up in a little while.
However, I could use your help.”

“I’m warning you now, I
don’t know anything about folding napkins.”

Lucy laughed loudly.
“Don’t worry, if I need napkins folded, I’ll teach you. Come on.” She turned
away from him and took a step toward the house. With no warning, her foot
slipped out from beneath her and she squealed as she closed her eyes, waiting for
impact.

“Whoa there, little
lady.” Lucas caught her under the arms before she could hit the ground.

She opened one eye and
then the other. It wasn’t exactly how she’d pictured being in his arms, but she
had to admit, she liked being this close to him.

“Did I mention it’s a
little slick out here?” he said as he lifted her back to a standing position.
She scrambled to gain her footing.

“Information that might
have been helpful a few moments ago,” she retorted with a smile.

“Here. Allow me.” He
removed his hat and turned it upside down. “May I?” he asked, pointing to her
apron.

She opened the smock
enough that he could collect the eggs and place them into his hat.

“Shall we?” He took a
step.

Slick. Down he went.

Brewster’s bark sounded
from the nearby barn.

“We’re okay,” he said,
holding the hat with the eggs in the air. “We’re okay.”

The border collie came
running from around the side of the outbuildings and immediately started
licking Lucas’s face.

She looked down and
couldn’t help the giggle that escaped. She’d never seen a grown man fall flat
on his behind before and the dog’s enthusiasm added to the humorous scene.

“A little help,
please.”

Lucy snorted as she
took his hat and bent down to help him up from the ground.

“Did I mention it’s a
little slick out here?” he repeated his earlier question with a laugh as he
stood up and brushed the snow from his denims. “How are you, Brew?” he asked as
he rubbed the back of the collie’s head and ears. He smiled at Lucy, took his
hat and cradled it in his arm, then reached out and took her hand in his.

Lucy forced herself to
breathe. His touch sent tingles up her arm and filled her chest with a
substance lighter than air.

Together, they took a
step forward, then another, until they’d gingerly made their way to the back entrance
with Brewster happily bringing up the rear.

“I think we’re safe
now,” she said, unable to keep the chuckle from her voice.

Lucas released her hand
to open the door. “After you,” he said with a wink.

She stepped inside and
showed him the bowl in the sink where he could put the eggs.

“Oh, no you don’t.”
Tillie marched from behind the counter and led Brewster back outside, then
dusted off her hands and looked up at Lucy. “How many?” she asked as she broke
off another section of dough and added the rolled ball to the pan without
missing a beat.

“Ten.”

The plump cook grunted
in satisfaction. “Now, I need those boxes.”

“Oh, yes, we were just heading
up for them.” Lucy untied her apron and returned it to the hook on the other
side of the pantry, then looked up at him. “We have to go up into the attic.”

She showed him through
the house, smiling at how wide his eyes grew when he realized there was an
indoor privy with an extensive adjoining room for bathing. They passed by the
library, the formal dining area, and the staircase on the far side of the
house.

They climbed two
flights of stairs before they reached the small door leading up to the attic.

“They’re just in here.”
She stepped into the garret and climbed the few steps that led up to the main
floor. The musty smell of memories long forgotten welcomed them.

Several boxes and dusty
crates were stacked along the perimeter of the spacious room, offset only by a
few pieces of old furniture and a child’s rocking horse.

“Looks like a bunch of
old junk. Why would Granddad keep it?” Lucas ran his finger across the top of
the timeworn desk, leaving a trail where he’d wiped away the thick layer of
dust.

A large casement window,
thick with dirt and cobwebs, caught Lucy’s attention. She trod across the
creaky wooden floor and wiped a small section of grime from the glass. The view
looked out over a far pasture where the horses could be seen running through
and playing in the fresh snow. She jiggled the operator handle, but it wouldn’t
budge.

“Let me try.”

She turned and stood,
nearly crashing into the broad expanse of Lucas’s chest. She looked up, her
mouth suddenly dry.

“I’m sorry, I…” she
couldn’t finish her thought as her gaze turned to his mouth as it slowly
descended toward her. She bit her bottom lip and closed her eyes. Waiting.

“I think it just needed
a little nudge.”

A wisp of cool air rose
up her back until it caressed the bare skin at her neck. Her lashes fluttered
open and she found herself, back pressed against the inside window sill, mere
inches from Lucas’s large form.

“It’s a nice view.” He
took a step backward, away from her, a grin spread across his face as he shoved
his hands into his pockets, exhaling heavily. He locked eyes with her for a
moment, then turned to glance over the rest of the attic.

Lucy’s heart beat with
incessant rhythm and she brought a hand to her throat, playing with the lined
edge of her dress there. She managed to smile back at him, but could not force
herself to move.

He laughed as he strolled
along the walls of boxes. “What’s this?” He pointed at one of the crates. It
looked more like an old traveling case. ‘Gabe Deardon’ was clearly stenciled on
the side. “I think it belonged to my father.”

The air in the attic
had grown nippy, so Lucy turned enough that she could crank the window shut.

Lucas tried to pull the
trunk out from beneath a few boxes that had been stacked on top, but when he
yanked on the handle, it came apart and he flew backward into the old desk and
knocked a stack of papers out of one of the cupboards. He shook his hand as if
he’d hurt himself in the process.

“Are you all right?” Lucy
found her feet and made her way over to him, stopping to gather the stray
papers and letters that had scattered on the floor. She quickly picked them up
and shoved them into one of the slots on the desk.

“Fine. It just smarted
a little.” One by one, he took the boxes from on top and set them on the ground
until the worn, brown trunk was exposed. He carefully pulled it from its
resting spot and set it on a small end table next to a torn fainting couch and
sat down.

“I imagine there are a
lot of things up here that belonged to your father,” Lucy said, scanning the
rest of the items that had been stored. Several looked promising, but she
feared her curiosity would get the better of her and they would spend the rest
of the day looking through these old things.

“What of
your
father? How did you come to be at Whisper Ridge?” Lucas asked as he fiddled with
the latch on the trunk.

“My father is a very busy
businessman in New York, increasingly so since my mother passed a few years
ago.”

“I’m sorry for your
loss.”

“Me too. She was a
wonderful, kind, and very beautiful woman.”

“Like her daughter.”
Lucas smiled and warmth spread throughout Lucy’s body.

“Once my father
remarried, I spent much of my time looking after his new wife’s three
darling
children.” She was careful to keep the sarcasm from seeping into her voice. Truth
was, the children had been quite a challenge for her and while she’d yearned
for her father’s affections, it had soon become apparent that what love he’d
once had for her had died along with her mother. She’d become nothing more to
him than a nanny for his new children.