Lucas (5 page)

“Then, what is it that brought
you to Whisper Ridge if it wasn’t for my letters? For I thought surely Fate was
smiling on me today.” He winked.

Lucas cleared his
throat and glanced at Lucy whose heart fluttered airily in her chest. She had
to force herself to breathe.

Didn’t you hear him,
Lucy Russell? He’s not looking to get married. To anyone.

After a moment’s
hesitation, Lucas reclaimed his seat at the table, keeping his head low, and staring
at some invisible spot on the wood. His fingers fidgeted and he bit at his lip.
It wasn’t long before he finally spoke. “The Pony Express was our biggest contract
buyer and with the telegraph now extending from one side of the country to the
other, there’s not much of a need for our horses. They are closing up shop.” He
scratched at the invisible spot.

Liam sat quietly and
listened, waiting for him to continue.

“An opportunity came up,”
Lucas told them, “that will help us to save our ranch, but it requires a change
in livestock. We won’t be breeding and selling horses anymore, but cattle. We’ve
always been horse ranchers and don’t know anything about raising cattle, but
Noah has hired on at our neighbors ranch to learn as much as he can.”

Liam leaned back in his
chair, still listening intently.

Lucas was quiet.

“Out with it, son. I sense
a question in there somewhere. What is it?”

DING! CLANG! DING!
CLANG! DING!

The hollow clang of the
dinner triangle rang loudly and for longer than normal, but it wasn’t
suppertime. The kitchen door burst open and Denver stuck his head inside.

“We’ve got a problem.”

“Stampede in the
pasture just beyond the gate!” Denver sucked in a breath and swallowed hard,
slapping his gloves against his thigh. “Water tower’s coming down if we don’t
hurry.”

Liam, Lucas, and Lucy
all shot to their feet at once.

“The mustang got out
and scared the cows. Several of the men are trying to round them up now.
Haven’t seen the stallion.”

“Anyone told Hank and
Sam?”

Denver shook his head.
“Not unless they heard the triangle ring.”

“What can I do?” Lucas
asked his grandfather, grabbing his hat from the back of the chair.

“You’ll ride with me,”
Granddad directed him. “Lucy, honey, I need you to get Tillie and help her put
a large pot of vittles over a fire. We’re all going to be cold when we return
and the men will need something to warm their bellies.

She nodded and with a worried
glance at Lucas left the kitchen straightaway.

“Let’s go,” Liam said
as he placed a hand behind Lucas’s back and pulled the door shut behind him.

It didn’t take long to
get the horses saddled and the wagon prepared, though the water tower was not
that far off from the homestead. Lucas wondered at first why they didn’t just
head out there on foot, but when he saw the wealth of tools, lumber, and rope
that had been loaded into the back he understood and climbed up into the
driver’s seat.

When they reached the
water tower, Lucas looked up, squinting against the snow, surprised. He wasn’t
sure what he’d expected, but the enormous house-sized barrel sitting atop a
raised wooden foundation held together by several leather-strapped poles and a
few nails wasn’t it. He’d seen similar contraptions at the Whittaker’s place
back home by the waterwheels in the lumberyards and once or twice at the edge
of some of the bigger towns along the trail, but this was a first time seeing
one on a single ranch. He wondered how it didn’t freeze in the wintertime.

“If that tower comes
down,” his grandfather told him as they unloaded the supplies, “it’ll flood
that stable.” He nodded at a small building that looked like it could hold ten,
maybe fifteen, mounts. “There will be no place for the new arrivals.”

Whistles and hollers
from the men, whips cracking the chilled air, and the restless, bellowing
cattle mixed together for a cacophony of chaos. The setting sun, barely visible
through the billowy snowflakes scattering across the ground, gave just enough
light for the small crew to start shoring up a number of the fractured braces.

Lucas tossed his hat
under the foot rest of the buckboard, strapped one of the large poles over his
good shoulder, and after bypassing a few of the injured cattle, headed up the
ladder. Once the post was in place, chocked up against one of the broken ones,
Denver worked to secure a length of rope around and through both pieces.

CRACK!

One of the cows lying
at the base of the tower dropped lifeless in a heap and Lucas looked up to see
his grandfather, rifle in hand, move to where the next one cried up at him.

CRACK!

Lucas closed his eyes.
He hated to lose livestock to the unexpected.

The tower wavered, the
earsplitting sound of wood splintering apart shoving Lucas’s stomach into his
throat.

“Look out,” Denver
yelled as the last cow rolled into the remaining brace and knocked it free.

As the tower leaned
toward his granddad, Lucas and the foreman both jumped free of the contraption,
and with a deafening crash, the water rushed from the shattered pieces of the
container.

Lucas groaned as he hit
the ground, but he wasn’t hurt. Immediately, he jumped to his feet, looking for
any sign of his grandfather.

“Granddad,” he yelled
to be heard over the added ruckus of flowing water and scanned the area,
sloshing back and forth, searching in the icy-cold, knee-deep rivulet wreaking
havoc on the landscape for any sign of the man. “Granddad,” he yelled again.

Cough. Cough. Cough.

Lucas whipped his head
toward the stable. There in the shallows of the flooding snow-covered grasses
his grandfather gripped a hold of one of the knots in a log and dragged himself
up out of the water, sputtering and shivering. Lucas lifted his legs and ran as
fast as he could through the high drainage and draped the man’s arms over his
shoulders and dragged him to dry earth.

He lay down on the
ground next to his grandfather, his hand resting over the violent pounding of
his heart and he gasped for air. After a moment, he turned on his side to look
at Liam.

“Damn that water’s
cold,” Granddad said with a forced chuckle.

Lucas fell back against
the fresh layers of snow and snorted a laugh.

“Mr. Deardon, are you
all right?” Denver stood over his grandfather, helping the man into a seated
position and handed him his sopping hat.

“A few hours next to
the hearth and we’ll both be right as rain,” Granddad said.

Lucas pulled himself to
his feet. Luckily, the tower had fallen away from the wagon and they would not
have to walk even the short distance back. He helped Liam up onto the buckboard’s
bench and made quick work of unsaddling his grandfather’s horse. After handing
the reins to Denver, and tossing the saddle into the back next to the cow some of
the men had loaded, he climbed up next to Liam and wrapped the saddle blanket
around the man’s shivering shoulders and started back to the homestead as
quickly as he dared in this weather and light.

“So,” Liam broke their
silence, “I believe you had a question to ask me.”

Lucas looked over at
the man, grateful he couldn’t distinguish his features completely.

“Well?”

“It can wait,
Granddad.”

“Maybe, but I want to
hear it now. Out with it.”

Lucas looked down at
the reins in his hands. “Well, sir,” he cleared his throat, “when we were out
at Redbourne Ranch last year visiting Aunt Leah, Raine mentioned something
about…well, about there being a special inheritance we could receive on our
wedding day if we marry before the age of twenty-five.”

“That’s right. Can’t
have you boys becoming too incorrigible now, can I? I figure I might as well be
able to watch you all enjoy it some before I’m gone. Though, you’d be the
first.”

Lucas looked up and
with a firm set to his jaw, he met Liam’s eyes. “Not me. Nooooo,” he shook his
head again. “But, I am here. Asking. I know you didn’t want to see us anymore
and we’ve been disinherited and all…”

Liam opened his mouth
to say something, but Lucas didn’t give him the chance. He’d practiced this
speech a thousand times over and had to get it all out.

“But I was wondering if
you might reconsider. Just this once.” He held up his hand before Liam could
answer. “If not, I understand and simply ask that I might have a job at Whisper
Ridge with a fair wage. I work real hard and I’m willing to do just about
anything. But, first…” he took off his hat and ran his fingers through his
too-long hair. “First, I want to know why you did that. Why? Why did you ban us
from Whisper Ridge? Why did you disinherit us? Didn’t you care about us anymore?”
Lucas locked eyes again with his grandfather, then returned to their path.

“Disinherit you?”
Cough. “Why, I didn’t disinherit you, Lucas. How could I? You’re my kin. My
flesh and blood. You didn’t do anything wrong. No matter what your pa’s told
you, I love you, son. You and your brothers.” He paused. “And your pa. Always
have.”

Lucas fought the
emotion that sprung to his eyes. He swallowed the lump that formed in his
throat and focused on getting them back through the deepening snow.

When he pulled into the
barn, the stable hand and a few of the men stood waiting to tend to the wagon.
Lucas helped his grandfather to the ground.

“I’m fine, son. Just
craving some of Tillie’s vittles about now.” He pushed his way through the
door, cursing when he stumbled slightly over the threshold.

Warmth from the stone
hearth welcomed them inside with its comforting embrace. Lucas shivered lightly
as he tried to shake off the cold.

“Liam,” Lucy exclaimed
as she rushed to the man’s side, “what’s happened? Are you all right? Is anyone
hurt?”

He didn’t stop to
answer, but kept walking toward the staircase. “We’re soaked to the bone, Lucy
Mae.” He rubbed his hands together. “Will you pour us a bowl of those steaming
vittles and set on a pot of tea?” he asked as he climbed onto the first step.

She nodded.

“That’s my girl,” he
said with a wink and scrambled up the rest of the stairs.

“We were lucky,” Lucas said
as he stepped toward the staircase. “No one got hurt.”

“Thank you,” she
mouthed with a relieved smile before turning back for the kitchen.

When he reached the top
of the stairs, his grandfather had already disappeared behind closed doors at
the end of the hall. He ducked inside his room. While there was a small hearth
in the corner, no fire had been set ablaze. The air still held a chill, but for
now, he’d settle for dry clothes. He laid his coat over the arm of the chair
and set his soaked boots next to the door. At least he’d brought one extra
pair. His Sunday best.

He shrugged into a
fresh pair of long johns and clean denim trousers.

SLAM!

Lucas nearly jumped out
of his skin. The shutters on his bedroom window had burst open and shut. It was
a wonder they hadn’t broken the glass. He guessed the second level windows had
not yet been secured. He shook his head, slipped on a dry pair of socks and
tugged on his Sunday boots.

Knock. Knock.

“What’s taking you so
long?” his grandfather asked from the other side of the door.

Lucas swung it open to
the teasing smile on the man’s face.

“Come on. It’s a lot
warmer down by the fire.” Granddad stopped midway down the steps, turned his
head, nose scrunched. “Achoo!” He nodded curtly and finished his descent.

As they walked into the
kitchen, two large bowls of steaming liquid accompanied by a small basket of
hot and flaky butter biscuits welcomed them at the table. Lucas sat down and
wrapped his stiff hands around the warm bowl. He looked up when Lucy started to
giggle. His grandfather also had his hands clasped around his dish.

“They say it’s like
father like son, but I think the old adage applies,” she said with a smile.
“Here. I thought you both might want something special. Tillie picked some up
while she was in town.”

Lucas set his bowl down
and took the mug from her. He looked down into the hot brown liquid swirled
with fresh cream.

“What is it?”

“Hot chocolate.” Lucy’s
tongue ran over her lips and she closed her eyes with an innocent shrug. “I
haven’t had any since I left New York. Isn’t it wonderful?”

Lucas shifted in his
chair and chuckled. He’d only had hot chocolate once before that he could
remember. At Redbourne Ranch. He smiled at the memory and brought the warm cup
up to his lips, careful not to drink it too quickly. He’d made that mistake
before and nearly burnt the buds from his tongue.

The distinct taste of
peppermint caressed his mouth with fresh, creamy indulgence. The sweet treat
trailed warmth down his throat to his belly and he shivered as the cold was
forced outward.

“Thank you, Miss Russell.”

Lucy pulled a blanket
from a large basket at the foot of the fireplace and tossed it over Granddad’s
shoulders. From what Lucas could gather, Lucy hadn’t been at Whisper Ridge very
long, but she fit here. He couldn’t explain how he knew. He just did. It was
easy to see how much she’d already grown to care for his grandfather and the
others on the ranch.

“I don’t know how I
ever survived without her here,” Granddad said as they both watched her retreat
behind the counter to help the cook with vittles for the rest of the men.

Silence passed between
them for a few minutes while they slurped their warm food.

“I miss you boys, more
than most anything in the world, I reckon. Apart from your Grandma Sophia, God
rest her soul,” he spoke into his soup. “That’s why I wanted to invite you all
here to Whisper Ridge for the holidays.” He turned to look at Lucas. “I want
you all to be a part of the family you came from. To learn about and understand
your heritage. Who you are. Being a Deardon is a noble thing. I don’t want you
to be away from me, son. I want you to be here.
With
me. With all of us.”

Cough.

“You…what?” Lucas pushed
his empty bowl away from him and turned to look at his grandfather. “All this
time. And I thought…I thought you…” he shook his head back and forth, unsure of
what to say. “You really
do
want to see us, don’t you? To be a part of
our lives?”

Granddad nodded his
affirmation. “You’re here now, aren’t ya? And I’m offering you the chance to
claim the inheritance that young Raine can only speculate on.” He looked over
at Lucy and nodded in her direction. “That
is
what you want, right?”
There was a twinkle in his eyes, despite his now sunken features.

“Not exactly. Well,
yes, but,” Lucas paused, “it’s not for me.” Lucas smiled awkwardly. “See it’s—”

“Of course, not. It’s
for your ranch. Your father and brothers.” Granddad scratched his jawline with
the back of his fingers.

“Yes, but I’m not the
one—”

“Mmmmhmmmm,” Granddad
said, disbelievingly as he raised a brow, his lips protruding slightly, as he
bobbed his head. “We’ll just let that sit for a bit. Now, tell me everything. I
want to hear about you and your brothers.” He pushed his chair away from the
table and leaned back, arms folded. “How is that stubborn son of mine?” He
fired out one question right after another.

Lucas stared at his
granddad a long while before answering. How could he fill the man in on
everything in their lives in just one conversation?

I can’t
, he relented.
But, God
willing, we’ll have a lifetime to catch up.

So much had happened.
Where did he begin?

“Mama ran off a long
time ago.”

“I’d heard that.” Granddad
undid the top button on his shirt and pulled the collar away from his neck. “I
always did think she was too big for her britches. Sorry, son. I know that must
have been hard on you boys.”

“It’s simple really
and, like I said before, it was a long time ago.” He shrugged. “She was given
an opportunity and she took it. Singing on a stage in Chicago. She never looked
back.”

“And you haven’t heard
from or seen her since?”

“Nope. Not interested.
She made her choice and we’ve learned to live with it.” He picked up his mug
and sipped down the last of his hot chocolate. The cup tinged against the wood
when he set it back down on the table. “And then Henry...” Lucas paused,
checking the emotion in his voice. “Henry died, Granddad. Last year.”

His grandfather’s expression
turned solemn and his jaw flexed with emotion. He swallowed hard. “Your Aunt
Leah told me it was an accident.” He turned back to the table and rested his
elbows on its top. “Those wild mustangs, for all their beauty and spirit, can
be downright devilish. I ought to know.” He turned to look at Lucas and raised
a brow. “Been thrown from enough of ‘em.”

“You break mustangs?” Lucas
wasn’t sure why that surprised him, but it gave him a higher appreciation for
the aging man. “I didn’t remember that about you, Granddad. Honestly, I don’t
remember much about any of this.” Lucas pointed out the window with a nudge of
his chin.

“I don’t ride much
anymore. I’m getting on in years, but don’t let anyone know I’ve admitted that.
I leave the wild ones to Hank, Sam, and their boys. A man could get himself
killed if he’s not careful.” His eyes widened immediately as if realizing the
mistake in his words. “Forgive an old man his thoughtlessness, son.”

Lucas stole a glance at
Lucy. She was busy ladling stew into bowls, careful to avoid his gaze.

“He didn’t suffer,” he
said with the shake of his head, “but it hit us all pretty hard.”

Silence passed between
them again for a short time.

“Well, he’s with the
good Lord now.” He patted Lucas on the hand. “I’ve got a confession to make,
son.”

Cough.

Lucy raised her head to
look at them, her eyebrows scrunched together and her ear turned slightly
toward them.

Granddad leaned
forward, his elbows on his knees, and dropped his head.

Lucas sat up straight
and narrowed his eyes.

“I know about Markham
and the offer he’s made your father.”

Lucas wasn’t sure what
he had expected the man to say, but that was not it. He furrowed his brow. “How
could you possibly know about that?”

“You don’t get to be
where I’m at without learning a few tricks,” he said, raising his head to look
at Lucas. “After my Leah sent word about Henry, I wrote to a friend of mine in
Oregon, who filled me in on your predicament. Of course, I knew that your
father would never accept my help, so I made a purchase on his behalf. With his
money. It was an offer Mr. Markham could not refuse.”

Granddad pushed off his
knees and leaned back against the chair. His face was flushed. His eyes glassy.

Lucy quickly pumped a
glass of water and rushed toward them. “Liam, you look like you are feeling
ill. Is everything all right?” It was as if she could sense that something was
wrong. She set the drink on the table in front of his grandfather—concern
evident on her brow.

“Just a little warm now
is all. Thank you, Lucy Mae.” He lifted the glass to her and took a large gulp.
“Maybe we should go for a little walk.”

Lucy shot a look at
Lucas that betrayed her worry. A storm raged outside. They would not be going
for a walk.

“The paperwork for the
herd is being drawn up as we speak. It now belongs to your family. It was paid
for out of a portion of your father’s estate. The money he left behind.” Granddad
laughed, then coughed. “You said before that Noah has hired on with Markham.
Well, when he heads for home, he’ll do so with a full herd and the drovers to
help him get them there.”

Lucas didn’t know what
to say—something that had never been much of a problem at home, much to Jonah’s
chagrin. But here, it seemed almost commonplace.

“It’s done? The herd’s
been paid for?”

Granddad nodded.

“I know you’ve already
got a full crew, but I’m a real hard worker and have been working the horse
ranch near my whole life.”

“What are you talking
about, Lucas?”

“I can work off our
debt.”

“Haven’t you been
listening to a word I’ve said? It wasn’t my money to pay back. It rightfully
belongs to your father. I just helped him spend it.” Granddad guffawed, which
quickly turned to a bellowing cough.

Lucas frowned as he
patted his grandfather on the back. “I listened. It’s just more than I possibly
could have expected.”

Liam tsked. “It must
have been hard on you boys. Growing up without a mother.”

Lucas nodded. “Or a
grandfather.”

“Ha,” Granddad
chuckled. “You’re straightforward, kid. I like that.” Cough. “Now, let me be
straight with you.” He reached out and took Lucy by the hand and pulled her
close to him as he spoke to Lucas. “I want you to stay at Whisper Ridge. I’ve
missed out on too many years to lose you again. I want to know my grandsons. I
understand you not wanting to get married, what with your mama the way she is
and all, but Lucy needs a good man. A Deardon man.”