Her Heart's Desire (Sunflower Series Book 1)

by Linda Joyce

  “I received a post card from that gallery doing your show. I reduced it and copied it onto edible film.” Helen beamed.

  “I’m awed. You’ve outdone yourself.”

  Helen put the cake into a custom-made box and set it on the counter. When Lia reached for the box, Helen grasped her hand.

  “Palm reading time.”

  “Oh, no. That’s okay. I appreciate all you’ve done. The cake is enough.”

  “I didn’t listen to you when you ordered the cake. I’m not listening to you now. Instead, I’m listening to voices that have a message for you.”

  Helen held tight to Lia’s wrist until she relaxed and opened her fist.

  “Stop human-doing and start human-being. What you seek, you already have.”

  Perplexed, Lia turned the phrase over in her head. “What does that mean?”

  “I don’t know. I’m just the messenger. But if you’re seeking something, you’re wasting your time because you already have it. Best to figure it out what it is.”

  Something in Helen’s voice shook her. Thoughts raced through her brain like a computer processing on overload, but no significant thought stood out. She had no idea what Helen was talking about.

  “Okay. Thanks again for the cake.” Troubled, she quickly left the shop. When she crossed the threshold, she vowed to tuck away all worries until tomorrow. Tonight was for fun, and she intended to enjoy her date. However, going home and knowing Lucas would be waiting had her spirits dancing on clouds. They would have the talk that had been shoved aside by other pressing things.

  Yet, Helen’s words haunted her. The unsolved puzzle would drive her crazy. Maybe Lucas could help find the answer?

  Once she and Karl set out on the final leg of their journey to the restaurant, Lia searched for a subject of conversation.

  “I don’t mean to pry, but do you think your time in Harvest will outlast that of your cousin?” she asked.

  “He didn’t last long, did he?”

  “Country life isn’t for everyone. With cold winters, wind chills reaching well below zero, and the dry hot summers, in excess of a hundred degrees, Kansas isn’t for the faint of heart.”

  “I assure you, I’ve got a big incentive to make this work.”

  “Something you care to share?”

  “Well, first, tell me more about your friend Zoë. That might make all the difference in the world.”

  “Zoë? Hmm, let’s see. She’s funny. Full of ideas to make money. She’s smart, but tries to hide that fact. A good horsewoman. She used to barrel race as a kid and has trophies.”

  “Romantic interests?”

  Lia raised her eyebrows and stared in Karl’s direction. “Interesting question. That, sir, is something you’re going to have to find out for yourself.”

  Karl frowned. “I thought ladies liked to gossip.”

  “Gossip is one thing, prying into someone’s love life—a different matter altogether.”

  Karl cleared his throat. “I’m not above gossip. Helen told me you definitely have a man in your life. If it was me, I think I’d know. So, do you want to share?”

  Lia blurted, “No. Absolutely not.”

  Chapter 16

  Lucas climbed up the wide wooden stairs and scanned the ballroom. Anticipation danced a samba in his gut. He made fists, then slowly unclenched his hands. If ever he wanted a party to be a success, this one was it. A big hurrah for Amelia. Tonight would forever remain an etched memory of happiness.

  “Lucas, glad you’re finally here. Start lighting all the candles,” Zoë called to him while she placed napkins on the tables. “Matches are in that bag on the side table.”

  He grabbed a box and began his assigned task.

  “Hey!” Craig called. “Get to work! You’re late. Not much time before Amelia arrives.”

  “With Karl,” Lucas muttered. “Got it covered!” he called back.

  Overhead recessed lights had been dimmed. Strings of tiny white twinkling lights striped the walls, illuminating the room with a magical ambiance.

  Zoë had forced him and Craig to review a decorating magazine in order to be more help with the party. She decorated each large table with a centerpiece of miniature pink roses, one of Amelia’s favorite flowers. Three cut-glass votive holders surrounded a bulb-shaped flower vase. He’d voted for cinnamon candles, but Zoë reminded him how they brought back strong memories of Lia’s mother, and she had nixed that idea. They all agreed sadness needed sweeping to the shadows.

  Instead of cinnamon, Zoë selected coconut, mango, and ocean fragrances. She jokingly said she hoped those scents didn’t somehow entice Lia into a seduction she’d regret. It took tensile-steel strength on Lucas’s part not to set her straight about Amelia’s private life. He wanted to shout, She’s mine, but he’d had a few days to think and his future with Amelia now seemed bleak.

  The hard cold facts—she would lose the farm. Then leave him.

  He’d had an idea, but needed time for further investigation, especially after his meeting yesterday. He had one last idea to research, but it was a long shot.

  Amelia needed cash. The boxes bringing in extra income wouldn’t last her through the end of the year. The art show might bring in money, maybe enough to pay for the spring planting. The only remaining income source was the harvest, which wouldn’t net enough after the mortgage payments and expenses to buy out Craig’s entire share of the farm.

  The inevitable had only been delayed.

  Amelia would have to bend to Craig’s decision and sell.

  Maybe Craig had been right all along. Amelia belonged in a loft in the city. He’d checked into suitable places for her and compiled a list of five with living space. He planned to offer to studio hunt with her. Above everything else, he had to know she was safe no matter where she lived.

  Over the last few days, he’d suffered like crazy. Grief descended on him when the reality of Amelia’s future became clear. His heart hung down to his knees. He’d faced battle and come out alive. However, a life without the woman he loved would be no life at all. He even considered moving away from Harvest after Megan graduated from college. The pain of being so close and yet so far from Amelia would kill him. If she found someone else to love, another artist or someone in the city, a man like Craig wanted for her, he’d die another death.

  But tonight…they would have tonight. That would have to be enough.

  Lucas walked over to the leader of the band. “Sounds good,” he said. “Remember, I want the third song to be When a Man Loves a Woman.”

  “Sure thing,” the guitar player said. The drummer gave a thumbs up.

  Across the room, Craig tugged on a string. Pink and white helium-filled balloons floated upward and hugged the ceiling. Silver stars dangled from various lengths of white ribbon, replacing the confetti Zoë had wanted everyone to throw when Lia arrived. The owner of the restaurant put the kibosh on that idea, saying it made too much of a mess.

  “You okay, man?” Craig asked. “You’re dragging. Not in the party spirit?”

  “Lot on my mind.”

  “Amelia is going to be surprised. I look forward to seeing happiness written on her face.”

  “Me, too.” Lucas nodded, forcing a smile. “I want her to be happy.”

  After Lucas finished lighting all the candles, he paced from the small stage to the window overlooking the parking lot, then back again. Guests began arriving. Zoë stood at the top of the stairs and acted as the greeting committee.

  Craig stepped behind the antique bar running the length of one wall. “Want a beer?” he called out to everyone, hoisting bottles in each hand. “Boulevard beers. Best beer from Kansas City.” Several of the guests headed in Craig’s direction.

  Lucas continued to pace. As he approached the window again, he caught Zoë’s stare. She scrutinized him as though scanning his mind to read his thoughts. Lucas bristled. Harvest didn’t need another psychic.

  “Lucas.” Zoë waved him away from the window. He joined
her, smiling and greeting the next guests ascending the stairs to Amelia’s surprise birthday party.

  “If you pace like an expectant father, she might see you through the window. Karl said he’d text me.” Zoë chuckled. “Karl said, ‘the one-if-by-sea or two-if-by-land signal went out with the last century.’ He’ll excuse himself and text me when he and Lia are finished with dinner.”

  “I want tonight to be perfect for her,” Lucas said. “She’s had a run of bad luck. And, to make matters worse, I checked the weather reports—you know I’m heading out Monday—there’s strong speculation about a storm headed down from the northwest. Blowing hard. That could hurt her crop—and everyone else’s—in a bad way.”

  “You sound like the voice of doom. Think about that tomorrow. Not tonight. No worries now. By the way, what’s up with you and Craig?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Really? Tonight’s the night you’ve decided to start lying? Usually the two of you are thick as malt at the drive-in diner. Now you’re here. He’s there, knocking back a brew.”

  Lucas shook his head. “We’re not on the same page about something.”

  “I’m guessing that something has to do with Lia.”

  “Yeah, but you’re going to have to pry the information out of Craig. I’m trying to protect Amelia, only Craig doesn’t see it that way.”

  Zoë eyed him hard. “I think you like her. In fact, I’m a gambling woman. I think love is a better word.”

  Lucas frowned. “So Harvest now has two mind-reading women? Is there something funny on those postage stamps you lick each day that’s making you hallucinate?” He refused to confirm or deny her probing. The less he said the better.

  Zoë smiled. “Play it your way. Is it possible for two hardheaded mules to close their eyes, shut out the past, and join forces?”

  “Mules?”

  “I intend to give you and Craig a big shove. You need to step up for Lia and join forces with her against Craig. I’m going to find out what’s brewing with Craig besides what he’s drinking.”

  “I think the truth is going to carry the stench of a pig farm.”

  Helen entered the downstairs foyer and ascended the stairs toward them.

  “Helen, I need your help. I need a minute with the guys. Will you greet the guests and let them know they can take a seat?”

  “Oh, my, Zoë. What a magical setting!”

  Zoë winked. “Thanks, Helen. That’s what we’re going for. Excuse us, please.”

  Lucas looked down where Zoë had linked her arm with his. “Now, I can handle the truth. Unlike Lia, I will fight dirty. Come with me.”

  Warily, Lucas marched beside Amelia’s best friend. Somewhere over the years, the hellion had become a savvy woman. They crossed the ballroom to the bar where Craig played barkeep.

  “Craig, how did Lia like the birthday present you got her?” Zoë asked, parking herself on a tall stool. Lucas moved behind the stool next to her and remained standing.

  “She was in too much of a hurry to get out the door with your boy Karl. Never opened it.” Craig held up a longneck bottle. Lucas shook his head.

  “Is that what’s got you twisted tight?” Zoë asked.

  “Twisted how?”

  “What’s up with you and Lucas? Why aren’t the two of you hamming it up with the band? Or singing your college fight song, or whatever other crazy male-bonding things you do when turned loose in town for the night?”

  “It doesn’t concern you,” Craig replied quietly.

  “If it concerns Lia, if it’s something that’s going to hurt her, it concerns me. I’m her best friend. You’ve had Lucas doing your dirty work for the last year. You better come clean.”

  “What did Lucas tell you?” Craig eyed Lucas suspiciously.

  “A little of this. Some of that. I’m giving you the chance to tell me your side of the story. Maybe I can help.”

  “Lucas told you!” Craig shouted. Zoë jumped. Lucas glanced around. It appeared no one else had heard the exchange over the band’s warm up.

  “Well…” Zoë paused.

  “Selling the farm is in Amelia’s best interest.”

  Zoë pounded her fists on the bar.

  Lucas stepped aside when shock hit Zoë full force. He’d warned her, but now wasn’t the time to remind her of that.

  “Sell? The hell you say! You trying to kill your sister?”

  “She can’t make it. She’s not superwoman, no matter what she thinks.”

  “Have you told her yet? Tell me you haven’t ruined her birthday.”

  “I’m not that callous. Tomorrow morning I’ll tell her. I’ve got a buyer waiting.”

  Zoë stood on the rungs of the stool, reached across the bar top, and slugged Craig in the arm. “You’ll crush her with the news, then run back to St. Louis. When did you get so cold and cruel?”

  Craig scowled. “I’m not cold or cruel.” His voice was deadly calm. He planted his palms on the bar and leaned across, pinning Zoë with a stare. “I promise you, I’m trying to keep her from what happened to the Dwyers. I couldn’t bear it if she lost the farm. That would be a shame she couldn’t live with. Best to sell before it’s ripped away. Better for her to transition back to the city.”

  Zoë sputtered. “You—” She jumped down from the stool. Her heels clacked on the wooden floor. She stormed away, but suddenly turned and shot a piercing glare at Craig. “Lucas, you can’t let this happen.”

  Lucas nodded. Zoë lifted her chin and squared her shoulders as she headed in Helen’s direction.

  “I want to be there when you tell her,” Lucas said to Craig.

  “Sure.”

  “One more thing. You have to put it off until Monday evening.”

  “I’ll be back in St. Louis. Nope. Tomorrow. I can’t do this over the phone. That would be cold and cruel. You know I have Amelia’s best interest at heart.”

  “For the sake of our friendship, I need until Monday evening.”

  “Our friendship is on the line? What are you saying?”

  Zoë raced up and interrupted. “Karl just texted. He’s walking Lia over in ten minutes.”

  “Everyone, quiet,” Craig hollered, coming around from behind the bar and standing next to Lucas.

  Lucas gave the band a kill-it sign, and the music faded away.

  “Lia and Karl are on their way. Remain quiet,” Zoë called to the crowd. “Wait until she’s at the top of the stairs and removes the blindfold before yelling surprise!”

  Lucas nudged Craig with his elbow. “Before you tell Lia about the buyer, I have something important I need to share with her.”

  “What?” Craig shook his head. “This is all too cloak-and-dagger for me. What’s up?”

  Lucas scanned the room. Footsteps in the tile foyer below echoed up the stairs. More guests appeared. Any minute now, Amelia would arrive. This was his chance.

  Lucas held out his hand to shake Craig’s. “Put it there,” he said. “We’re going to be brothers-in-law.”

  Craig’s mouth gaped. Lucas slapped him on the back. “I love your sister. I can’t let you take the farm from her. I’m going to ask Amelia to marry me. Together, we’ll fight you.”

  Chapter 17

  At the restaurant, Lia opened her menu, but before ordering, Karl took over. He requested the most expensive items on the menu, never bothering to ask what she might enjoy. Good thing she wasn’t allergic to peanut sauce on her salad or blue cheese on her filet. He did, however, have a fine palate for wine and ordered a highly ranked bottle of California cabernet.

  Lia glanced through the window. Lavender, pink, and orange shone against the sky’s pillowy clouds. Streaks of silver shot upward, fanning across the horizon as the sun trailed a path toward dusk. The grandeur of nature teased the eye with ten shades of green in the fields. The river darkened as light disappeared. Lia itched to paint as Karl chattered on like a streaming news banner on CNN.

  She shivered from the air conditioning blowing down the back of
her neck and pulled her wrap over her shoulders. Bringing her attention back to Karl, she smiled and nodded in all the right pauses during the non-stop monologue, and remained utterly polite after realizing the man’s genuine fascination with her best friend. The date with Karl would be over soon. Yet, for a reason unknown to her, every time she tried to suggest they leave, Karl started in on another question about some obscure fact about Harvest.

  “Yes, Zoë can trace her roots back to the covered wagons rolling along the Santa Fe Trail.” Lia dabbed the corners of her mouth with a cloth napkin.

  “She’s got a great sense of humor.” The man actually beamed.

  “Our Zoë is a tickle a minute.” Raising her wine glass, Lia waited for the last drop to dribble into her mouth. “Thank you so much for dinner, Karl. Let me go to the ladies’ room before we depart.” Without being rude, she couldn’t have been more direct. She rose and left the table.

  On the drive to the restaurant, Karl had spoken excitedly about his new afterschool basketball coaching responsibilities and how much he enjoyed getting to know the farmers and townsfolk. When he took a breather, he asked about her art. It seemed Zoë had mentioned it to him. When Lia finished her first sentence, he dove in, explaining he didn’t understand art critics. Instead, he took a like-it-when-I-see-it approach to things he hung on his walls. His tastes, he confessed, tended to modern abstract. Bold colors. Decisive lines. He had even tried to impress her with his explanation of energy art. Then, he’d asked, if she would consider painting a mural on the side of the farm store. He had in mind a colorful checkerboard of different species of roosters. He couldn’t pay her, but advertising her work could be their trade.

  She contemplated his offer momentarily, not wanting to offend, before replying, “I’m not sure I’m qualified to tackle that type of project. I’ve only painted the side of a building once. Someone with more experience would probably better suit your needs, but thank you for thinking of me.”