by Linda Joyce
“Good boy, Jackers.” Craig laughed, yanking off the tie and tossing it through the open driver’s window.
“Sit, Jack,” Lia said. The dog obeyed. She eyed her brother. “Did you rush from a meeting? Drove for hours with a tie? You’ve become the definition of stuffy.”
“So nice of you to worry about me. Hello, to you, too. I was on the phone for business most of the way here. It’s always the same. Semis hogging the road. There’s nothing new to see on I-70 when you’ve driven it a thousand times.”
Craig opened his arms. She hugged him tight, enjoying the security he offered since their parents had died. A moment later, she pushed back and punched her finger against his chest. “We need to have a serious chat.”
Craig’s eyebrows shot up. He shook his head and waved his finger back and forth like a metronome as if to say she wasn’t the boss of him. The stern expression and gesture were all too familiar, probably how he had reacted when she was born.
In the distance, another cloud of dust moved up the hill. Wind never swirled the dirt into a wall unless it was a twister. That kind of cloud only came from an approaching vehicle. A moment later, she recognized the battered work truck turning down the lane toward the house. “I should’ve known,” she grumbled.
“I’m going out with Lucas.” Craig smiled. “Want to join us?”
“Nope.” Lia stormed to the back door, turning only to order Gentleman Jack inside. She visualized a painting in need of a canvas. Her earlier checked anger had returned with the approaching truck. If Craig were lucky, tomorrow morning for breakfast, she’d cook eggs instead of throwing raw ones at him. He might be a Wall Street-type with his fancy investment banking job in St. Louis, but she hadn’t appointed him guardian of her life. They were going to come to a meaningful understanding about his interference. And, all interference from Lucas Dwyer on Craig’s behalf had to stop.
“Amelia! Wait. It’s only Lucas.”
She opened the door and walked through without bothering to acknowledge him.
“Only Lucas,” she muttered as she closed the door behind her. “The root of my problem today.”
Chapter 4
Lucas gripped the door handle and braced his other hand against the car’s console. When Craig punched the accelerator to ninety miles an hour, Lucas sucked in a breath. For a mile, the BMW sped along faster than a tornado.
Suddenly, Craig hit the brakes hard. Made a sharp turn. The rear fishtailed. Wind whirled through the open windows. Lucas blinked and imagined his brain bouncing side to side inside his skull like a batted ping-pong ball. Thankfully, the seatbelt locked him in place. He exhaled a ragged breath.
“Stop it.” He grabbed Craig’s arm.
The tires kicked up a cloud of dirt. The car jerked, rocked from side to side, fighting centrifugal force.
“You can’t blow away the pain. Isn’t it bad enough that tomorrow is the anniversary of your parents’ funeral?” Lucas hollered. “Do you want your sister to have to plan another memorial service?”
Once completely through the turn, Craig let off the gas. The car slowed. Lucas’s heart raced ahead as though in accelerated motion. His body yanked against the seatbelt again. “Ow!”
The car came to a final rest on the rise of a hill. Lucas swallowed the lump lodged in his throat. “Shit! Craig”—Lucas punched Craig’s arm—“you want thrills? Sign up for a tour of duty in Afghanistan. Two tours of duty were enough for me. I want to live.” Adrenaline coursed through him like a speeding train.
“Look.” Craig pointed.
Before them, a smoldering orange sun hovered above a wide, flat green horizon. Red. Yellow. Pink. The sky blazed as though on fire. Something he missed when he visited Craig in St. Louis. Too much ambient light prevented a night-light show like this one.
“I understand why Amelia wants to stay on the farm,” Craig said quietly. “Every star in the night sky is a reason.”
Lucas nodded.
“I love it here, too. But there isn’t opportunity for me. For now, St. Louis is my gateway.”
“Don’t get poetic on me. You haven’t even had a drink yet,” Lucas said dryly and folded his arms over his chest, still irritated by the kamikaze driving. His jackhammering heart slowed from overdrive to fast. He wanted to punch Craig for his fool stunt, but restraint was the better part of valor. Given his friend’s mood, the night looked bleak. He doubted his friend would take the news he had to share with ease, but now was the time to move the line in the sand.
“I loved growing up here,” Craig said. He gripped and released his hold on the steering wheel. “But I’m not a farmer, and farming is too hard for a woman alone.”
“If I have my way, she won’t be alone,” Lucas muttered under his breath.
College days were far behind him. He’d been to war and survived. His family lost the farm. Accepting reality came when he started his own business. But after relocating his parents and moving his sister back to college, he finally admitted to himself Amelia was the reason he stayed. In Harvest, he’d never lingered long in any relationship. Thoughts of the woman he loved had kept him alive during his tours of duty. His plan to admit his attraction to her went to the bottom of his to-do pile when her parents suddenly died last year. If timing required luck, then his sucked.
He’d waited an entire year out of respect for the Britton’s sense of propriety. The year of grieving ended tomorrow. In high school, he’d denied his attraction to her out of loyalty to Craig. In college, he kept Amelia at arm’s length because a relationship proved improbable when he roomed with her brother. Later, she moved to the city. He couldn’t make up for being a fool in the past. His reality had a new face, one that didn’t sacrifice love for loyalty. The two could coexist. And if Craig had a notion to kill him in his fancy new car, he’d better tell Amelia his feelings fast or he’d take them to the grave.
Lucas coughed, breaking the silence in the car.
As though a switch had been flipped, Craig smiled. “Lucas, I hear a beer calling your name. I’ll set my coordinates for the eatery.” He made a U-turn, heading toward town.
White knuckled, Lucas held on.
Craig chuckled. “You’re a brave man.”
“More like a fool. You’re one for driving like one. Me, a bigger one for tolerating it.”
Craig slapped his shoulder. “You’re the best friend. No one could ask for better. You’ve always been a brother to Amelia and me.”
Lucas grunted rather than responding. Soon enough, Amelia’s brother would know the truth.
Under a floodlight, across the street from the bar, Craig pulled into a parking space of a mostly full lot. As they entered Rockets, aromas of tangy and sweet and barbecue smoke wafted to Lucas’s nose. His mouth watered. The smell of ’que always reminded him of Harvest. The farm. Family.
A hostess greeted them, led them to a booth at the far end away from the door, and placed menus on the table.
“Enjoy your meal, boys.”
The din of voices and sports shows playing on the TVs scattered around the room almost drowned her out.
“So what’s new?” Craig asked as he perused the food selection.
“Nothing.”
“I don’t mean on the menu. I mean with my sister. Why is she boiling mad at you?”
Lucas closed his menu and slapped the table. “This is wrong. I know it’s wrong. I can’t help you anymore.”
Craig frowned, clasping his hands together and resting them on the table. “We agreed with my plan. What’s caused the change of heart?”
“This really isn’t the place, but in case you decide to kill us both on the ride home, I have to tell you the truth,” Lucas said, hoping no one could overhear their conversation. Amelia hated gossip. If what he had to say leaked out, it could ruin everything. “She’s a grown woman.”
“That’s not exactly news.”
“You do remember that her birthday is a week away. In another year, she’ll be thirty. She can make up her own min
d. Make her own mistakes. I have a sneaking suspicion she’ll come out just fine.”
“I want her back in Kansas City.”
“Have you ever thought about what she wants?” Lucas sat back in the booth and scrutinized his friend. Craig’s folded fingers tightened, then relaxed, a telling sign of his desire to punch something.
“In case you’ve forgotten, she’s a teacher and a painter. She’s sold a number of paintings over the last couple of years. I had an expert check out the one she gave me. Without knowing the artist was my sister, he appraised the painting at forty-five hundred dollars. Can you imagine that?”
“She’s got talent.”
“Lucas, I know she’s not painting by numbers or painting a house. This is fine art. She has a studio going to waste.”
“Maybe, if you dropped the lease, that would save you money. Or better yet, take the money and rehab the barn into a bigger studio for her.”
Craig leaned in, squinted one eye, and cocked his head. “What’s going on here?”
Lucas paused. Now wasn’t the time for a full confession. “I’m tired of running interference for you to keep things she wants from her…like, dating. I managed to persuade the guys who’ve asked her out that a couple of dates is all they get. No more. I gave up covert operations when I got out of the military. You need to be straight with her. Now she’s got a date with Karl. She asked him out. I just happened to be there.”
“My little sister asked a man for a date? I can only imagine my mother turning in her grave.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, your little sister is a fine-looking woman. I’d say hot, but it’s you I’m talking to.”
Lucas gave the waitress his attention when she appeared beside their table. “Ready to order?”
Craig leaned back and graced the woman with a warm smile. “Of course, but first, what did you say your name is?”
“I didn’t. I thought you’d remember me.”
Craig looked the woman up and down. His quizzical expression confirmed his faulty memory, but Lucas wasn’t about to help his friend out of the jam.
“Your senior year of high school. Tractor pull. Kansas City. You almost took my tonsils out. No anesthesia required. Then you never called me again.” The waitress’s voice dripped with sarcasm.
As though mental gears had kicked into place, Craig beamed. “Crystal! Best night I ever had at a tractor pull. I left for college after that. Sorry. I figured you were nectar to bees and had guys all lined up. Just killing time with sorry me. You’re as cute as you were then. Maybe we’ll go out sometime.”
The waitress blushed and lowered her chin. “So what’s it going to be tonight?”
Lucas caught the waitress’s double entendre. He cut Craig off before he could reply.
“Two Pale Ales. Full slab of beef ribs and the sides on the menu that go with it.” Lucas clipped off the order. The waitress scribbled fast, and then grabbed the menus before sauntering away.
Chuckling, Craig shook his head. “Next time we eat first, talk later. Hunger makes you mean.”
“Well, I’m here to eat cow. Doesn’t get any meaner than that.”
Bethany delivered their beers. “Saw Lia today,” she said setting the mugs on coasters on the table.
“Amelia? In here?” Craig asked with surprise.
“What’s wrong with here?” Bethany challenged. Her fists went to her hips.
“Nothing. Does she come in often?”
“No,” she answered slowly. “Never alone. Ironic that you’d both be here on the same day. Don’t see you around much anymore. Guess you’ve crossed over to the dark side…big city guy now.”
“Aww, Bethany,” Craig drawled. “You can take the boy out of the country, but you can’t take the country out of the boy.”
Bethany laughed, massaging Craig’s shoulder. “You got that right,” she said before walking away.
Lucas shook his head. “Where do you come up with this stuff? If you spent more time here, they’d have an auction and raffle you off to the highest bidder. Your kind of charm makes even a whorehouse Madame blush.
“Know about them, do you?”
“No, but remember, I did spend more than a few years in the Army. I saw life though a different lens, enough to know I like it here the best.”
“So, my sister is picking up men? I can’t imagine.”
“Drink your beer,” Lucas said, purposefully changing the subject. The idea of Amelia in the bar rattled his brain, too. She had been a wild child until high school, but the tomboy-type, running a four-wheeler all over the farm. Boys were the least of her interests, unless she could get them to sit for her while she painted. Her mother, the transplanted southern belle, tightened the stays and corseted Amelia’s life once high school came around. Mrs. Britton taught deportment in etiquette classes after school and made Amelia sit in the front row.
“Do you remember the time your sister painted a mural on the side of the hay barn, the one that backs to the west cornfield? After the crop was harvested, only then did anyone notice the mural of a bayou, complete with cypress trees, a heron, and a gator.”
“I’d forgotten about it. A reporter came all the way from Wichita to interview her about her masterpiece and snap some photos. Amelia was twelve. Painted from memory after a visit to our Louisiana grandparents. Dad finally painted over it when the mural had mostly blistered and peeled.”
“She’s got great talent,” Lucas said.
“Who’s Karl?”
Lucas drew back. A simple question, but the answer was complicated. “Mr. Turner’s nephew. This is his younger sister’s son. From Chicago. He’s trying hard to fit in. Levi’s. Tony Lamas. Charlie One Horse straw hat. If he’s been on a horse, it had to be at Turner’s place and long ago. He was asking me about asking Amelia out before she walked in the storeroom and asked him out herself.”
“Hmm.”
“Hmm, what? I let it slip that you might not be happy about the idea. I’m not interfering with your sister’s life anymore. The two of you have to work it out.”
“Okay.”
“I’m going to punch you. Okay, what?”
“I’ll let her ruin her life. Marry some guy who doesn’t understand her art, wants her for the land and will give her lots of kids. That’ll make her real happy, don’t you think?”
Lucas narrowed his eyes. “You think a local guy can’t give your sister a good life and love her for who she is?”
“Well, maybe. But it would be just too weird.”
Crystal arrived with the food on a tray so large she struggled setting it down. Lucas rose to assist. The tray made it to the table without food sliding from the plates. Crystal placed the full slab of ribs, side items, and extra plates in front of them, along with a roll of paper towels.
“Always the Boy Scout, Lucas,” Craig said.
“Always the gentleman,” Crystal replied smugly. She picked up the empty tray and winked at Lucas before leaving.
“Have you gone out with her?” Craig asked.
“Long ago. After her tonsillectomy from you, but before we graduated college.”
“Back to Amelia. I guess for her to ask a man for a date, either she’s grown up more than I thought, or gotten pure lonely at the farm by herself. I hadn’t considered that eventuality.”
“I’m glad to finally hear your ‘Amelia light bulb’ is turned on,” Lucas muttered. Maybe grief had clouded Craig’s judgment, and now it was returning.
“Well, look.” Craig pointed to a spot over Lucas’s shoulder.
“Hey!” Zoë called out. “Look who it is. CB. How ya doin’?” She dropped down in the booth next to Lucas causing him to make room for her. Zoë reached for a piece of garlic bread, all the while grinning at Craig.
“I’d kiss you, girl, but I’ve got barbecue lips.” Craig puckered and kissed the air. “How’s your family? Seth doing okay?”
“Arrived home on leave today. I’m sure you’ll see him. So…Houston, we have a problem
. Lia’s got a date next Saturday night. Plus, Helen told me Lia’s already been by the café and ordered her own birthday cake. I’m going to have to let Karl in on the surprise if we hope to get her to the party,” Zoë said between chews of bread.
“Karl seems to get around.” Craig said.
Zoë elbowed Lucas. “Yeah, I hear you tried to put the kibosh on their date. What’s up with that? Karl’s a good lookin’ guy. Been around, traveled a lot. Knows more than how to grow corn or fix a tractor. He’s the white-collar type. Like our friend here who only wears suits now. Karl could be good for her.”
“I was following orders,” Lucas grumbled.
“Huh? Craig, that was your fault? I don’t want to believe it, but Lucas never lies.”
“So, can Karl be trusted or do we stage a kidnapping?” Craig asked.
The suggestion must have been to Zoë’s liking. She smiled and drummed her fingers, playing a drum roll on the table. “A staged kidnapping sounds exciting.”
Lucas groaned. “No. Too undignified. Amelia would hate it, which would ruin the party for her. Remember, the whole reason we’re doing this is for her.”
“Well,” Craig interrupted. “If you think we can trust a newbie like Karl, then we’ll let him in on the secret, but you’d better be real sure he can keep a confidence. Amelia refused to celebrate her birthday last year. Too close after the funeral. We’re making up for last year and celebrating this one, too. You know how my mother was big on birthdays.”
“Let me talk to him, Lucas,” Zoë purred. “I think I can persuade the man that talking isn’t in his best interest. And, their date is the perfect cover for the surprise party. Lia will be so many shades of embarrassed when she gets there we’ll need a fire hose to cool her cheeks.”
“No, Zoë. I should be the one to take her to dinner before the party. I’m a better decoy,” Lucas insisted.
Zoë turned and looked him up and down. “That may have been true once, but I think she’s over you. You had your chance, dude…and blew it. Several times. If you asked Lia out now, she’d know for certain something is up. Besides, you’re the world’s worst liar. That’s one of the things we all love about you.”
