Her Heart's Desire (Sunflower Series Book 1)

by Linda Joyce

  Megan nodded. “I can’t believe Craig is this crazy!”

  The two men stood ten feet apart on the front lawn, their intensity belying the bucolic setting of velvet grass, pink and red flowers, bluebirds scattering seeds from the feeders, and hummingbirds flitting around the tall posts of the split-rail fence.

  “Oh, Craig,” Lia sighed, opening the window to hear the exchange between the men.

  Her brother always tried to do the right thing, but lately he never stopped to consider what really might be best. Just like a man to be lost and not stop for directions.

  Her heart pounded double time. Blood rushed in her ears. Butterflies dove and fluttered in her stomach. She said a silent prayer for Lucas’s safety, and counted on his rationality in the face of her brother’s bizarre behavior. However, Craig’s erratic behavior worried her to her bones. He’d taken on so much, carrying the burden of responsibility for her and the farm, all the while trying to carve out a new life for himself in St. Louis. Had he snapped? Had seeing her with Lucas been too much?

  “Lucas, I always thought of you as a brother,” Craig shouted as he paced back and forth. His fingers flexed around the gun. “So did Amelia. Our father isn’t here. So this is my job. What are your intentions toward my sister?” Craig raised the barrel of the shotgun and pointed at Lucas’s chest.

  “Intentions?” Lucas shrugged. “Funny thing about intentions. Sometimes they backfire, just like yours did.” Lucas held out his arms from his sides as though showing he had no defenses, his body language screaming, I’m unarmed. He took a step forward. Craig took two steps back.

  “I set out to help you, Craig. I know you had good intentions for Amelia, but you can’t play God. She gets to decide about her life. She gets to live with the consequences of her actions. Your father was a wise man”—Lucas shook his finger, berating Craig—“he wouldn’t be standing here holding a loaded shotgun on me.”

  “You slept with my sister!”

  “I did. I love her.”

  “Please, don’t tell him it wasn’t the first time,” Lia whispered. She covered her cheeks with her hands and willed Lucas to hear her plea. “Please don’t tell him.”

  Megan looked up at her with wide eyes. “Not the first time?” The accusation hung thick in the air around them.

  “I’ll explain later,” Lia told her in a rush. She pointed outside hoping to keep Megan’s attention focused there.

  “So Lucas did more than just spend the night with you in KC.”

  “Megan, now isn’t the time.”

  “This is too much drama,” Megan said. “I’m going to be sick.” She ran to the bathroom.

  Torn, Lia wanted to follow her to be sure she was okay, but her feet remain glued to the spot before the window. There had to be a way to stop this craziness before someone got hurt.

  “Why would you sneak around behind my back?” Craig lowered the barrel of the shotgun from Lucas’s chest to his groin. “Why didn’t you let me know how you felt about her?”

  Lucas didn’t flinch. “So the great and mighty Craig Britton could laugh at me? Tell me how a poor, farm-less farm boy wasn’t good enough for his sister? How living in the country isn’t the life for his sister?” Lucas shouted and stepped closer to Craig. “How many times have you told me that? How many? Christ, if I had a dollar for every time, I could buy your half of the damn farm and give it to Amelia for a wedding gift.”

  Craig’s face wrinkled. Brows furrowed. Nose pinched, as though he smelled something foul. Then he raised the barrel of the gun and pointed it once again at Lucas’s chest.

  “I love her. And if she’ll have me, I’m going to marry her.”

  Lia squeezed her eyes shut. Her nostrils flared. Her jaw locked. “Enough!”

  She stormed outside, slamming the front door. “Craig Britton!” she screamed. Anger pumped through her veins like a rocket blasting off for a trip to the moon. She stomped her way to her brother. “Give me that!” Jerking the barrel of the shotgun, she yanked hard and pulled it from him. “Idiot! What do you think you’re doing?”

  Craig folded and sank to the ground, sitting crossed-legged. He covered his face with his hands.

  Lucas crossed the yard to her as she opened the break-open shotgun. Once the chambers were exposed, she snorted. “The darn thing wasn’t loaded. Dammit, Craig. What’s up with you?”

  Lucas reached out a hand to Craig, an offer to help pull him up. Craig slapped Lucas’s hand away and rose on his own.

  “Suit yourself,” Lucas said, his voice deadly calm. “But don’t ever point a gun at me again unless you intend to pull the trigger. I have killed men for that.”

  “Honey,” Lia pleaded. “Please check on Megan. She’s not feeling well. Let me deal with my brother. I’ll let you have a swing at him later. I might even hold him for you.”

  Lucas nodded. When he reached the front door, he turned back as though he had something to say, but instead, shook his head and disappeared inside.

  “Let’s talk over there.” Lia pointed to the two wooden Adirondack chairs their parents used to sit in and watch sunsets.

  Craig sank into the wooden seat.

  Lia pulled the diamond pendant so it hung in front of her t-shirt. “Lucas gave me this.” She leaned over for her brother to examine it. “He didn’t ask me to marry him. He said he didn’t want to rush things. When I was ready, when I know it’s right, we’ll take the stone and have it set in a ring, an engagement ring. Then he’ll officially propose.”

  “Nice,” Craig said, letting go of the chain.

  “Now for you. A shotgun? Really? You need to tell me what’s going on. If I were Zoë, I’d take the butt of the gun and…”

  “I get the picture.” Craig scrubbed his face with his hands. “You were always the perfect child, always the talented one. From the day you were born, I was told to protect you, watch out for you. You’re the baby sister.”

  “But I haven’t been a baby for a long time,” Lia said softly. “And I don’t want to increase your ick factor, but I’m also not a virginal little miss. Lucas wasn’t my first.”

  “I want to cover my ears and sing, la la la la la. I don’t want to know the details. Not about anything before, and certainly not about what I saw.”

  “I want you to be happy for Lucas and me. I love him, Craig.” She reached and patted his hand.

  “But—”

  “Blame it on Helen. She was the one who declared the prophecy. I resisted the notion, but I’ve always cared for Lucas.”

  “Yeah. I know.” Craig’s voice carried deep resignation.

  “You did?”

  “I saw the carvings on the trees down by the creek. Your hideaway. I figured it out. But when I saw the two of you this morning, something took hold, after I waited all night for you to open your present and to share some news about the farm.”

  Unease crawled up her back like a scorpion walked along her spine. The harvest wasn’t in yet. What did Craig have cooking?

  He pulled his keys from his jeans’ pocket. “I’ve got to get back to St. Louis. I guess I’ll leave you and Lucas to work out the details, figure out a plan. I’ll get used to the idea of the two of you together”—her heart softened, and the breath she held escaped. He would come around and all would be okay—“I’ve got a buyer for the farm.”

  His words hit her like a bulldozer. Her heart plunged to her feet. She blinked. “You what?”

  “Either buy me out in cash, or we sell.” Craig stood. “I’ve given you all the time I’m going to. I’m tired of this, tired of trying to help you do the right thing, and you fighting me all the way.” He bent and squeezed her shoulder. “The farm is part of my inheritance, too. I want to invest in something else. This appears to be a bust.” He strode to his BMW and drove away.

  Lia sank back into the chair. Her brother’s words hurt as much as if he’d shot her with both barrels of the shotgun. Her whole world had been wiped away. The paintings. The studio. Now the farm.

&nb
sp; And soon Lucas would be leaving for the harvesting season.

  What would she do?

  Chapter 21

  Lucas set his plate of half-eaten food in the microwave to heat, thankful for Craig’s departure. What was he thinking? Craig would never shoot him. Amelia proved it. The shotgun had no shells. Damn fool needed his head examined. Maybe the year had been more than Craig could handle. He’d never make it in the military.

  “I can’t eat,” Megan said, joining him in the kitchen, her face still pale, but showing a bit more color. She peeked through the window. “Craig’s car is gone.”

  “Do you see Amelia?” Lucas asked. He pulled his plate out of the microwave and bobbled it. Grabbing a towel to protect his hand, he set the plate down on the table to finish eating the food Amelia had served him only a bit ago.

  Megan opened the front door. “Lucas, she’s sitting in one of the chairs.” She turned to him. “She’s crying,” she whispered. “Lia hardly ever cries. I wonder—”

  Lucas was out of his seat, gently pushing his sister aside, and out the front door.

  “Amelia?” Fear had a stranglehold on his gut. He couldn’t imagine Craig had hurt her and left, but the man who’d pointed a shotgun at him wasn’t the man he’d been friends with all his life. Hunkering down in front of her, he took her hands in his. “Are you hurt, sweetheart?”

  She wiped away her tears. “I’m fine.” She shook her head as though to stop the tears and clear away the gray cloud Craig had left behind.

  “I think he’s cracking under the pressure. We both know this isn’t like Craig. And I know he isn’t doing drugs…nor was he drunk, which makes me worry more.” Amelia rose with his help. “Let’s go finish breakfast.” Amelia’s smile was forced. Her eyes still brimmed with tears.

  “I was about to start without you,” he teased.

  They made it to the front porch before Amelia spoke again. “You’re leaving tomorrow, aren’t you?”

  Lucas nodded. He wished he could say otherwise. He would miss her art show opening. Miss the harvesting of her crop. He’d miss her sweet kisses. Miss every inch of her body, her smiles, her sense of humor, and her warmth at night.

  Amelia’s mouth drew a straight line as though she contemplated something. What? She didn’t say. He was reluctant to ask. Prying wasn’t his thing.

  At the table, Megan sipped orange juice. “Can we pretend what just happened was an episode from Doctor Who and now we’re back on Earth?” she pleaded. “Amelia, shall I heat up your plate?”

  “I’ve got it. You just enjoy the view and your OJ.”

  They finished breakfast in silence. Anger skittered in Lucas’s gut like a ricocheting bullet. Craig had crossed the line, seriously crossed the line, but maybe he needed serious help. Pointing a gun at him was one thing, but bringing Amelia to tears—completely unacceptable.

  “I hate to eat and run, but I’ve got to hit the road,” Lucas said, rising from the table. He kissed the top of Amelia’s head and squeezed her shoulder.

  “I’ll clean up.” Megan popped out of her chair and grabbed the platters of leftover food.

  “I’ll walk you out,” Amelia said, following him.

  They stood in silence beside his truck. He opened his arms, and she flung herself at him. “What is it? What did Craig do or say?”

  “I’m not sure what I’m going to do.” She released him and slumped against the passenger door of the pickup.

  Lucas searched her face, her eyes, searched for the deeper meaning to her words. “Now’s not a time for riddles. Tell me.”

  “I don’t know where I’m going to go. I don’t know what I’m going to do. Craig has a buyer for the farm. I must buy him out now, or the farm is sold.”

  “That’s what he said before he left?” Anger bubbled up and wrapped around Lucas’s neck like a noose. It grew tighter until he fought back the choking sensation. The urge to punch something hard, like Craig, took over. He kicked the truck’s tire instead. “Dammit! He told you like that?”

  “Meaning?”

  “He’s gone off his rocker completely. He should have told you in a better way.”

  “You knew?” Amelia stood and crossed her arms over her chest.

  “Well…”

  “You knew!” She flung the accusation at him so hard it punched his gut.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “It wasn’t my place. I’m navigating new waters here. Our friendship, mine and Craig’s, mine and yours, goes way back. Lots of history…”

  “But you made love to me! You gave me this!” She tugged on the diamond hanging on the chain. “Am I not your first loyalty?” She stepped away from him.

  “Be reasonable, Amelia. It’s not that simple. I love you. But the last thing I want is a rift between you and Craig with me in the middle.” He took a step closer to her, but she put up her hands for him to stop.

  “I don’t see a future for us.” Amelia unhooked the necklace. She reached for his hand, placing the pendant there. “I can’t accept this.” She turned away and walked slowly into the house without looking back.

  “Amelia,” Lucas called after her. She entered the house without a hint of having heard him.

  “Dammit. Dammit, Craig,” Lucas muttered. Why was it that lately all of his plans took a turn and put him in a ditch? His thoughts flashed to last night. A perfect memory, but he wanted more, an entire memory book with pages of life with Amelia. However, now wasn’t the time for talking. Now was the time for doing.

  He climbed into his truck. Before driving away, he spied Amelia and his sister watching him through the kitchen window. He blew a kiss.

  “Going to see a man and beg about a farm,” he said, knowing the words would fade before ever reaching their ears.

  He headed down the road and hoped his bartering skills weren’t as rusty as his relationship-fixing skills.

  He had to find a way to keep Amelia near. On the farm. A farm. Any farm nearby.

  ****

  Lia cringed and beat her fist on the kitchen counter as Lucas drove away. He hadn’t fought for her, for them. Would he bother to contact her before leaving tomorrow? Had she just ended everything? Weariness set in. A nap might not solve anything, but afterward, she’d figure out what to do next. The morning’s emotional tornado wore her nerves thin.

  “Lia,” Megan called from the art studio.

  “Yes?” Lia wanted to send the college student on her way back to school.

  “Come sit with me for a few minutes.”

  Lia entered the studio with Jack on her heels. He passed her and climbed onto his bed, circled around, and lay down. Contentment comes easy when you’re a dog, Lia mused. The studio wrapped her in a blanket of safety. When immersed in a painting, she often preferred sleeping on the daybed against the wall, taking catnaps between bursts of creative flow.

  Megan sat on the rolling stool. “Do you think of Lucas as a big brother?”

  “Ah, what?”

  “You heard me.”

  Lia stalled, wondering what field Megan had plucked her question from.

  Megan pressed on. “He cares deeply for you, but until—uh, whenever it was when the two of you first did the deed—he wouldn’t allow himself to believe you might love him back. So, I’m guessing you don’t think of him as a big brother. It would be really cool to have you for a sister-in-law. I mean, like last Sunday when you helped me understand Lucas’s concerns for me. So, I don’t mean to interfere, but you just had a birthday and…”

  “Spill it.”

  “Well,” Megan paused. “You’re not getting any younger.”

  “Younger? You think because I’m nearly thirty, I’m old?” Lia snorted and laughed. Nothing about her life gifted her with a sense of youthfulness. Life was hard work. Fun had taken a holiday without her. Did she seem ancient to a college sophomore? Maybe she did need a girls’ weekend away with Zoë.

  “What’s so funny? Most people your age get touchy about the subject. It’s not usu
ally a laughing matter.”

  “Do you realize my brother and yours have been treating me like a child for years? And you come along, bright-eyed and full of life, and you see me practically as middle-aged. Yep, it’s funny.”

  “Does this mean we can talk, woman to woman?”

  Lia chuckled. “Absolutely. Talk away.” She picked up a paintbrush and twirled it between her fingers. Later she would paint.

  “Lucas said he wants me to have the house. We own it together. My parents did a quit claim deed when they left for Arizona. However, I’m hoping you can understand. I. Never.”—Megan pointed, punctuating the air on each word—“Want. To. Live. In. The. Country. Again. Particularly in that house. It’s great to come home to it while I’m in college. However, I’ve made up my mind. I can legally sign contracts now. I want to give my share of the house to you and Lucas as a wedding present.”

  “Whoa. What?”

  “Wedding. Present. Does hitting middle age make you suddenly hard of hearing?”

  “There’s not going to be a wedding. Besides, I can’t let you do that.”

  “You think because I’m in college I can’t make this kind of a decision? You’re not taking me seriously.” Megan scowled.

  All too familiar with the sentiment, Lia dropped the paintbrush into a jar with the others. “Megan, it’s complicated. It looks like I’m going to lose the farm. I have one small shot at bringing in the harvest, but I don’t think it’s going to make the mortgage payment and buy Craig out of his share. Craig has a buyer for the farm.”

  “All the more reason for you and Lucas to get married and move into our house,” Megan insisted, rolling the stool closer to Lia.

  “All the plans I had…the way I had things worked out. I’ve failed, Megan. I can’t marry Lucas to stay in the country.”

  Megan jumped up and kicked the stool away. It shot across the room, hitting the kitchen door. “You’re not going to marry Lucas to get a place to live. You’re going marry my brother because you. Love. Him. Geez, middle age does crap to the brain.” Megan shook her head and frowned as though life ahead of her was a minefield, and she might not get out alive.