by Linda Joyce
****
Arriving at the college, Lucas parked and ran in a full sprint to his sister’s dorm. A student was leaving the building and before the door closed, Lucas jerked it open. He entered against school policy, but he had no time to waste. Until he saw Megan, he couldn’t truly believe she was unharmed.
Running up two flights of stairs, he located her room and pounded on the door. It opened before he could pound again. Megan launched herself at him, reaching her arms around his waist, and broke into a sob.
“I’m so sorry,” Megan wailed.
“Let me look at you.” Lucas’s voice rang out louder than he intended. Fear had a hold on him. He held her from him for a better look. He felt up and down her arms as if they would give him clues about her injuries.
“I was checked out at the clinic. A little bit of whiplash maybe, but I’m okay. They kept asking me if I hit my head or if I was knocked unconscious. I wasn’t. But Lucas,” Megan wailed. Her eyes teared up again. “My car is a total loss. They towed it way. The cop called it salvage.” She sniffed. “It’s the only present Dad ever bought me without Mom’s approval.”
His heart thudded like a bass drum in his chest. His brain failed to believe she wasn’t hurt. “The car is just a car. You’re important. I understand you’re upset, but I need to be certain you’re not injured. Why did they keep questioning you about a head injury? Did you hit the windshield or the side window?”
Megan shook her head.
“Do you want me to take you home and make a doctor’s appointment?
Again, Megan shook her head
“If you’re sure you’re fine… Did you get all your stuff out of the car?”
Megan shook her head again.
“I’d feel better if you’d come home and let me take you to a doctor who knows you.” He pulled her close for another bear hug.
“I’m fine. I’ll be sore, but okay.” He accepted her decision reluctantly and released her.
While he looked for signs of injuries on Megan, a few students had opened their dorm doors and a few more hung out in the hall eavesdropping on their conversation.
“Where was the car taken?” Lucas asked.
“I don’t know exactly.” Megan shrugged.
The crowd of students moved closer.
“Dude, are you bothering her?” One male student stepped forward.
Megan turned to face the guy. She shook her head at him. “He’s my brother.”
“How about we go inside and talk about this more?” Lucas asked.
Megan let him pass into the room, then she followed him in.
“There’s a card on my desk.” She plucked it from the mess and handed it to him. “Information,” she said, collapsing on the bed.
“If you’re up to it, let’s go over to the tow lot and remove your personal things from the car. We have to get the tag, too, if the car is, in fact, a total loss.”
“The car behind me pushed me into a truck with a tow hitch that inserted itself into my radiator. My poor car looks like an accordion.”
Lucas pulled out the chair from desk and sat. He rubbed the back of his neck. The car was just stuff. Same as the remains in Amelia’s loft in the city. Same as Amelia’s paintings. Stuff. Okay, valuable stuff, but still replaceable at the end of the day. The woman he loved was unharmed. His sister, slightly bruised, was fine. A lot of trauma in twenty-four hours to the women in his life. What more could he do to keep them safe?
“Megan, let me give you a hug. I’m so glad you’re okay. I worried all the way here. I was following Amelia home from Kansas City…”
“You spent the night in KC with Amelia?”
Lucas nodded. “She says if you need her, she’ll come.”
“Does this mean what I think it does?” A smile wiped away all traces of Megan’s earlier discomfort.
Lucas shifted his weight and eyed his sister warily. “What does what mean? Is that some sort of female speak?”
“You’re in love with Lia.”
Lucas frowned. Did his sister now read minds and hearts?
“Oh, big brother, it’s been obvious for months. The question is, when will you finally do something about it?”
How had the discussion turned on him? Megan seemed to quickly forget she’d been in a car accident.
“Let’s go check out the car.” He didn’t intend to discuss his relationship with Amelia until it was clearly defined in his own mind. He started for the door. “Grab your purse or whatever you need, and let’s go. After we do this, I need to get home, that is, if you’re sure you’re okay.”
Megan grabbed a small purse and tugged on his hands. Once outside, she raced down the stone steps. Her youthful exuberance baffled him. Tears one minute. Smiles the next.
“Come on. Let me explain the facts of life to you.”
Lucas bristled. “I hardly think so, little sister.”
“Which way’s your ride?”
Lucas pointed across the lawn to the far parking lot.
“Don’t try to pull on me what Craig Britton pulls on Lia. By the way, why is it the two you are the only ones who still use her full name?”
“Wait, what do you mean about Craig? And what does she want to be called?”
“Lia. Don’t you ever listen? As for Craig, he’s a controlling tyrant.”
“He means well.” Now he was defending Craig to his little sister? He might very well behave like Craig with Megan. He wanted only the best for his little sister.
“Forget about Craig. Focus on Lia. Who does she want?” Megan thumped his chest. “She wants you! Can I help you pick out her ring? When do you think you might get married? Can I be in the wedding party? Where will you live after you’re married?”
“Slow down. Things are not that simple or moving that fast.”
“Why not?”
“Why not, indeed,” he muttered.
When they reached the truck, Lucas held the door for his sister. He went around to the driver’s side and climbed in.
“You didn’t answer the questions. All you need to do is ask her to marry you. She says, yes, and you live happily ever after. On her farm. Simple.”
“Megan, stop.” Lucas started the engine.
“But—”
“Amelia could lose the farm.” He tapped the address for the tow yard into the GPS. “Craig wants to sell,” he explained. “He’s found a buyer. Craig’s plan all along has been to move Amelia back to the city to paint. She had a studio there.”
“Had?”
“Guess you didn’t see the news about the burning building in KC yesterday?”
“Lia’s studio is gone? What about her paintings and stuff?”
“We’re not sure yet. The fire marshal won’t let anyone in.”
Megan slumped in the seat like a deflated balloon. The news popped her momentary bubble of enthusiasm.
“You could get married and live in our house. It’s not nearly as nice as Lia’s, but it’s better than nothing.
He patted his sister’s shoulder. “That’s a generous offer, but no.”
“Why not?” Megan demanded, sitting squarely in the seat. Her determination had rematerialized.
“Because the house will be yours when you graduate from college.”
“Lucas, the house belongs to both of us.”
“Yes, and we see where that arrangement is getting Craig and Amelia, so I have decided, the house will be yours. You will always have a home. You will never face the worry Amelia is dealing with now.”
“You sound like Craig.” Megan pouted. “What if you and Lia got married and lived in the house until I graduated? If I go to graduate school, I’ll be away for another five to six years.”
Her eagerness to fix his problem touched his heart. “A nice offer, sis. But bringing a wife home to my sister’s home…just not manly. I want to give my bride a home of her own.”
Megan crossed her arms. “Well then, Lucas, you’d better find a way to keep Lia on her farm.”
“Yep,” he agreed. A new plan began to form, but would Craig agree? Even if he did, could Lucas pull it off?
Chapter 15
Since returning from Kansas City several days ago, she’d painted like a fiend, surviving on catnaps and nourishment from Helen’s daily delivery. The spunky woman came laden with food and a lecture, yet she hadn’t demanded to read Lia’s palm again. Helen’s harangues were worth the pain in exchange for chicken potpie, fork-tender roast beef, and barbecue. Helen tried to entice her into admitting she now had a man in her life, which Lia wouldn’t confirm or deny. She had zipped her lips and shook her head under the heat of Helen’s scrutiny.
“Amelia, hurry!” Craig hollered.
“I’ll be down in a minute.” She turned off the light in her bedroom and trudged down the hall to the stairs.
‘The truth is in your eyes,’ were Helen’s final words yesterday.
Would Harvest be shocked to learn which man claimed her heart? Was Helen spreading news, gossiping around town?
She smiled remembering Lucas’s visit. Dessert in bed.
Lia picked specks of paint from around her nails while taking stock of her efforts. Three paintings. Only three. Even after working around the clock—halogen work lights producing a daylight effect in the middle of the night, lighting the night so brightly coyotes ran in the opposite direction. Anyone taking pictures from space surely spotted the farm.
At the top of the stairs, Lia paused to gaze at the undulating green hills beyond the window. Even overwork and exhaustion didn’t negate her delight of the view. The lingering rays of sunlight cast shadows across the yard.
“How can anyone not love this?”
She and Karl would catch the sunset from the windows of the restaurant. No other place in the world lifted her spirits and plugged her into creativity like the Kansas countryside.
She’d been painting since returning from Kansas City, but inspiration didn’t appear with a flip of a switch. She couldn’t just duplicate the stolen work. Art had to flow from her heart to her hand, then to paint on canvas. However, the remarkable thing about being in love—it provided new inspirations. That morning before dawn when she examined the three paintings in progress with a critical eye, she spied a newly honed depth in her artistic voice. She credited Lucas with the change, which made her date tonight rather awkward. But she wasn’t prepared to share her good news about Lucas with the world even though it brought joy to her heart…made her so happy she could float away like a feather on the breezes of the Kansas plains.
She and Lucas hadn’t yet gotten around to the talk—life kept yanking their collars, pulling them in different directions. Canceling on Karl at the last minute would be rude. Besides, there was nothing wrong with getting to know the man who made Zoë’s heart skitter like water popping in a sizzling pan. She smiled at the thought of her friend’s heart all tied up in knots. The always love ’em and leave ’em woman had come to a screeching halt.
Descending the stairs, Lia sighed. So far, the police had no new clues about the thieves. But the show must go on.
With less than a week before the exhibit, her hopes of recovering the paintings chipped away each day. The art world could be a risky business. As Heidi Klum, host of Project Runway, always said, “One day you’re in—the next, you’re out.” Lia’s three new paintings might salvage the show, along with her reputation.
She feared letting down Jan and the show’s success slipping away just like the stolen painting. Yet, she had to admit, as bad as life had abused her, the incident had gifted her with a previously unseen benefit—Lucas. If not for the stolen paintings, he might not have known he’d stolen her heart. He wouldn’t have come to her rescue in one of her darkest moments. Her heartbeat quickened at that thought. A flush raced from her chest to her cheeks and lifted her mouth into a grin. Love had invincibility pumping through her veins. She believed it when Lucas had said, “Everything will work out perfectly.” She’d stake the farm on it.
“You look nice,” Craig said when she crossed into the living room.
“Why, thank you.” She wobbled on the carpet in black heels. She’d decided on a black pencil skirt hoping for sophistication rather than the country look. The pearls her father had given her for her sixteenth birthday gleamed against her soft, dove gray, silk blouse.
“Happy Birthday, Amelia.” Craig sprang from the couch and ran to the dining room table. He returned toting a medium-sized package wrapped in shiny paper with a lacy bow the size of a large zinnia blossom. “Since you don’t want to celebrate your birthday with me, here’s your present.”
“Oh, Craig,” Lia said softly. “It’s not that I don’t want to celebrate with you. It’s just that I need to do something different after twenty-nine years.”
“Mom and Dad would be really proud,” Craig told her. He shrugged. “I had wanted to celebrate with you, like we always used to.”
Lia hugged his neck. “We’ll have cake when I get home. I think it’s sweet that you’re going to hang out with Lucas and Megan tonight. I’m expecting them to be here for the cake cutting.”
“Open your present,” Craig said, his voice low and serious.
Lia paused. Whatever it was, she wanted to share it with her family—Craig, Megan, and most importantly, Lucas.
“Would you mind if I waited until I get home? Karl said the reservation is for seven. I imagine I’ll be home by ten at the very latest.” Sentimentality pulled at her heart. She would be a reluctant date. After celebrating every single birthday of her life with her brother, except last year, the tradition was hard to break
“Hey, it’s your birthday. Whatever you want.” Craig leaned in and kissed her cheek. The simple action dissolved her remaining tension over the tired argument about the farm. Surely, Craig would help her keep it. He did have her best interest at heart. Lucas had reminded her of that.
The doorbell rang, interrupting their moment. Jack barked and bounded down the stairs. Craig jogged to the door. “Let me intimidate the prospective suitor. Wait here.” He grinned wickedly, reminding her of the Wolf in Little Red Riding Hood. He hadn’t broached the subject of selling the farm again, even though the year was up tomorrow. She wanted to believe he wasn’t just waiting for the right opportunity to strike. For the reprieve, she was thankful. It was the birthday present she truly wanted. After tomorrow, they could argue about what came next for the farm.
“Lia ready?” Karl asked.
“Enter,” Craig said, stepping aside.
Lia crossed to the foyer. “Hello, Karl. I’m looking forward to the evening.”
Karl looked her over. For a moment, she thought he might whistle. She didn’t miss the appreciation in his wide grin.
“For you,” he said, offering a bouquet of pale pink flowers and greenery.
“So, Karl, what are your plans for the evening with my little sister? We haven’t gotten to know you very well. And since my father’s gone, it’s my duty to stand in for him.”
Lia took the flowers. “Thank you. These are lovely.” She turned and shoved the bouquet at Craig. “Put these in water in mother’s crystal vase and set them on the dining room table.” Turning back to Karl, she tugged on his hand, leading him back out the front door. “Bye, brother dearest. See you later tonight.”
Once in the car, Lia turned to Karl. “I’m sorry about that. He’s a little overprotective sometimes. In the future, just ignore him.”
“He’s kind of hard to ignore,” Karl chuckled. “Your brother is a well-respected man around these parts. His word carries a lot of weight. I wouldn’t want to be on the wrong side of him…or Lucas.”
Did she detect a hint of concern in his voice? Was it over Craig or Lucas?
“Tell me, how are you liking Harvest? A big change from where you’re from.”
She listened while he talked and tried to keep her mind from wandering to Lucas and memories of him in her bed. When she returned home tonight, after the cake cutting and tasting, she planned to wa
lk with Lucas in the moonlight down to the creek and show him the spot on the tree where she’d carved their initials all those years ago. Back when she was young and had her first boy crush…on him. Dessert could be sampled anywhere.
“If you don’t mind, I need to stop by the Sunflower Café before we go to dinner,” Lia told Karl as town appeared. The ride to Atchison took them through downtown Harvest. Most of the stores were dark and locked up for the night. Brick and stone buildings, with a few old wooden ones, gave the town a quaint antique feel. Shops with large picture windows showed off colorful displays. Only one business still had lights on, and she instructed Karl to park in front.
“I have to pick something up from Helen. It’ll take just a minute.” Lia scooted from the car.
Chimes tinkled when she pushed the door open. “Helen?”
“Back here.”
Lia’s heels clicked against the aged, polished wooden floor. The empty café exuded serenity with the lights turned low. Lia made her way toward a well-lit kitchen. Helen appeared from behind the old saloon swinging doors separating the dining and cooking spaces. Backlit by the bright kitchen light, Helen appeared to glow. Lia blinked. The woman had great psychic abilities, but was she actually an angel?
“Happy Birthday, Amelia.” Helen tilted the cake she held in her hands.
“Oh. Helen! It’s beautiful. But you know, no one calls me that anymore.”
“Your mother called you that. Your father called you that. Your brother still calls you that. I’ve known you since the day you were born. I’m sure if we did that genealogy thing, we’d at least be kissing cousins. And since your parents are gone, I’ve claimed you and Craig as family.”
“Well…” Lia’s mouth began to water as the aroma of chocolate hit her nose. “I don’t care what you call me if this cake tastes as good as it looks and smells. It’s not the German chocolate I ordered, but I’m so glad you didn’t listen to me.”
The round three-layer cake, decorated in pink fondant and embellished with piped white icing resembling delicate lace, displayed a painter’s easel perched on top. The easel supported an exact replica of one of Lia’s abstract paintings. Her heart lurched. The painting had been one of her best ones from the stolen batch.