The sound of an excited bark filled the otherwise quiet house.
She turned to see Brewster, a beautiful border collie bounding toward her from the kitchen.
“Lucy, are you in here? The snow is coming dow...” Alex, one of Liam’s daughters-in-law, stopped short as she walked into the living area, her normally quaffed hair, sopping wet. Lucy marveled at how the woman could still look so beautiful.
Thank you, she offered silently at having another woman in the house.
“Oh, I didn’t realize you had a guest.” Alex moved to the archway into the parlor and leaned against it, raising an appreciative brow at the man.
Lucy narrowed her eyes in a warning. Alex and Mara, the ladies of Whisper Ridge, had been trying to convince her that most men were not like Gilroy Hearn and she should give the marriage idea another thought. She wasn’t against the notion, especially with someone who looked like this Mr. Deardon, but she wasn’t in any hurry.
As Brewster reached her, she bent down to pet the dog, but he leapt past her, headed straight for Liam’s grandson, and jumped up with his front paws onto the man’s legs.
“Down, boy!” she called. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Deardon. Normally, he’s much better behaved,” she said, trying to keep the giggle from her voice as she coaxed the animal off of him. “Please, come in.”
The last thing Lucas had expected was for a young, strikingly beautiful woman to answer his grandfather’s door. The friendly pup had surprised him too. He dropped down onto his haunches, allowing the dog to lick the side of his face.
“Hahaha.” A hearty laugh escaped, despite himself. He reached into his pocket, retrieved his last piece of jerky, and gave it to the pup. “What’s his name?” he asked as he stood up, watching the dog prance into another room with the dried meat dangling from his mouth.
Lucas suddenly felt more at ease than he had a moment before.
“That would be, Brewster.” The woman stood aside, motioning for him to walk inside the enormous house. She pointed toward a parlor room at the front. “You really shouldn’t indulge him. He already thinks he owns the place.”
The heavenly aroma of fresh baked bread and roasting meat induced visions of a warm home-cooked meal—something Lucas hadn’t eaten in a month’s time. He ignored the loud rumbling sound that churned in his belly as he shook off the chill and reached up to brush off the snowflakes accumulated on his coat, biting back the curse that threatened at the awkward movement.
Blasted shoulder. It had been nearly a month and the arm was still giving him problems. Pain had become an unwelcome part of his life. Most of the time it didn’t bother him, but once in a while when he moved it just so, it protested in the form of sharp, stabbing pains. Today was his lucky day.
“Thank you, kindly,” he said as he wiped his boots on the mat and stepped over the threshold. He removed his hat and nodded at the blond woman standing in the archway, who watched him carefully as he followed the younger woman to the couch in front of the window.
“I’m afraid Mr. Deardon is...” she cleared her throat and started again. “I’m afraid your...grandfather, is unavailable right now.”
The blond woman’s eyes opened wide and with an oddly conspiratorial smile, she moved into the room and extended her hand.
“Grandfather?” she eyed him speculatively. “You must be one of Gabe’s boys.”
Lucas stood and took her hand. “Yes, ma’am. The youngest.” He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say. He’d rehearsed the speech to his granddad hundreds of times over the last few weeks, but hadn’t as much as thought about anyone else.
“Lucas?”
He nodded.
“I don’t know if you’ll remember me, but I’m Alexandra. Alex,” she clarified. “I’m married to your father’s youngest brother, Sam.”
He glanced over at the woman who’d answered the door and couldn’t help but wonder if she was someone’s wife.
“I’m sorry.” He shook his head. “It is very nice to meet you, ma’am.” He barely remembered his grandparents. And at home, neither he, nor his brothers, had been allowed to talk about any of their extended family—except for Aunt Leah, of course, who wouldn’t have let his father cut her out if he’d tried.
“Well, that’s all right, dear.” She turned to the other. “He certainly has the good manners of any Deardon I’ve known or raised.” With a smile, she looked back at him. “I’m sure the next few days will offer the opportunity for us to get reacquainted.”
“I hope so, ma’am.” Lucas nodded.
“Aunt Alex,” she corrected with a smile. “Well, I think you’ll fit in just fine around here,” she said with a satisfied nod. “You’re only a little older than a couple of our boys. They’ll show you around,” she said with a satisfied nod. “Now, I’m sure Lucy will see to it that you are taken care of until your granddad returns.” She turned her attention to the woman standing beside him. “Any word?”
“Not yet.”
Alex nodded. “Well, maybe we should keep you a secret. For now,” she added with a little twinkle in her eye. “I’d hate for Liam to think I’d stolen his surprise. I’m just going to grab some sugar to finish the pies for Thanksgiving.” She took a step closer and threw her arms around him. “Welcome home, Lucas.”
Lucy started toward her as if to say something, but Alex wiggled her fingers in a wave as she disappeared, almost as quickly as she’d arrived.
Hmhmmmmh.
Lucy cleared her throat, her fingers lingering against the soft-looking skin of her neck. When she turned back toward him, she smiled nervously as she walked to the opposite end of the couch and sat down, motioning for him to do the same.
He sat.
“Mr. Deardon, I hope your reasons for coming to Whisper Ridge are admirable. I know he sent for you, but Liam is a very generous man and I would hate to see anyone take advantage of him. No one seems to know much, if anything, about you.”
Sent for me? He leaned a little closer to her.
“Honestly, I expected to meet a child when you arrived, not…not…” she met his eyes, a dark pink staining her cheeks. “Well, you’re not a child.”
“No.” He chuckled quietly and smiled, hoping to put her more at ease.
She returned his smile.
“Sorry,” she said, raising her hands in the air and dropping them again in her lap. “I guess I’m a little nervous.”
Honest. He liked that.
“It’s no surprise that no one here knows much about me or my family, ma’am. I haven’t been here at Whisper Ridge since I was five years old.” Lucas did not feel like recounting how his father had been disinherited and had kept all of his children away from their grandfather for so long. Besides, she probably already knew enough about them to know that, and he’d rather not know exactly how much she knew.
Sent for him? The idea needled him again.
Silence passed between them for only a moment before he couldn’t hold his tongue any longer. “I’m sorry, did you say he sent for me?” He just couldn’t get the notion out of his head.
“Yes, of course. That is what the letter said, isn’t it?” Her hand flew to the curve of her neck, her fingers caressing the indent there. “I’m afraid I just assumed...” She met his eyes. “Isn’t that why you are here?”
“I haven’t heard from my grandfather in as long as I’ve been gone from this place, ma’am. There wasn’t any letter.” Then, he remembered the post Noah had found in their father’s office just before they’d left. The one he’d said was someone trying to stir up some trouble, and he wondered if it had indeed been written by their granddad.
A look of astonishment touched her eyes and froze her smile.
“No worries, ma’am.” He moved to stand. “I’ll just come back at a more convenient time, when he’s home.”
“Excuse me,” she said softly as she stood up, her hand across her chest. “Whether he sent for you or not, I just know Liam would want to see you again. How long are you
in town?”
“That depends on how long before I’m able to speak with him and tell him what I’ve come to say.”
“Are you staying in Thistleberry?”
He shook his head. “Just arrived. Came here first thing.”
“Well, let me see if I can’t get Denver to make you up a bed in the bunkhouse. Alex said we should keep you a surprise, but I think Hank and Sam would like to know you’re here. I’m sure they’ll want to see you as much as Liam.” She excused herself from the room before he could stop her.
Lucas had been so focused on making amends with his grandfather that the idea of reacquainting with the rest of them had his stomach in knots.
What will I say? How will they react?
He glanced around, stepping out into the entry and taking in the massive space. The hallway led into a great room with ceilings that extended to what he guessed was three or four times his own six feet and some. A picture on the top of the piano caught his attention. He strode over to the instrument and picked up the ornate silver frame with a photograph he immediately recognized as his brothers and him when he was only two–maybe three at most.
Can’t be that angry still if he keeps our photograph out where he can see it.
“Do you play?” the woman asked when she returned.
He set the picture back on the piano and took a step away. “The piano? Um, no. Not much of a fan.”
Her eyes widened in apparent surprise. “How can you be Liam’s kin and not like music?”
Lucas shrugged. “I used to. A long time ago.”
An older gentleman with a wide brimmed hat and a thick mustache stepped into the room, his hands folded over one another in front of him.
Lucy stared at him a moment longer, then turned to nod at the man. “Mr. Deardon, this is Denver. Your horse has already been seen to in the stables. You can collect your things there and then he’ll show you where you’ll be sleeping for the night.”
Lucas turned to follow Denver, who he guessed to be the foreman, but stopped just short of her.
“Thank you, Miss...Lucy was it?”
“Yes,” she replied with a quick smile. “Lucy Russell.”
“Well, Miss Russell,” he offered, looking at her, “I’m a might obliged. Thank you,” he said, returning his hat to his head. “This certainly wasn’t the way I’d expected to be greeted.”
“I hope to be seeing more of you, Mr. Deardon. I’ll let you know as soon as your grandfather returns.” Her smile warmed him. She was beautiful.
“Ma’am,” he tapped the brim of his Stetson with a nod and then stepped in line behind Denver and followed him out to collect his things from the stable.
Chapter Four
The snow fell more heavily now. While the weather had been quite cold, and at times near freezing over the last few weeks on the trail, he’d made good time and had thankfully arrived at Whisper Ridge without losing any of his fingers or toes.
“I’m guessing you’re no stranger to ranch work,” the man said, eyeing Lucas closely as he opened the front door to the bunkhouse. Several beds lined each wall and a hefty, circular table had been placed in the center of the large room.
“No, sir. Been working with horses my whole life.” He stepped inside. “My family owns a ranch back in Oregon. We all have our jobs to do.”
“I know’d your granddad owned lots of property. Doesn’t surprise me none that y’all have a place out there.” Denver sniffed at the air. “Well, we’re grateful for the extra set of hands. Especially on a day like today.” He glanced out the still open door then back at him as he stepped outside. “You sure look like a Deardon, now let’s see if you work like one.” He nodded at a bed with linens and blankets folded neatly at the foot. “You can bunk there for the night. Get yourself settled, then meet me out in the stables in a quarter hour.” He tipped his hat and disappeared.
After Lucas set his things down next to the bed, he unfolded the covers and quickly pulled them tightly over the mattress, grateful he would not have to spend another night on the cold, hard ground.
As requested, he met Denver out at the stables and spent the next hour securing shutters, hauling wood into the homestead and bunkhouse, and feeding the horses in the biggest stable Lucas had ever seen. The stalls had already been mucked and the horses groomed, he just needed to make sure they had plenty of food and water until their next feeding.
There was something cathartic about working on his grandfather’s ranch. Some of the dread that he’d experienced garnering the courage to knock on that front door seemed to dissipate with each new task he accomplished.
“Lucas.”
He pricked his ears, unsure whether or not he’d heard the faint sound of his name carried on the breeze. When he didn’t hear it again, he returned to his work, tossing the last barrow full of hay into the stall.
“Lucas!”
It was louder this time, clear as day. Someone had called his name. He scraped the pitchfork clean of debris, set it in the wheelbarrow, and headed for the front of the stables with an empty feed bucket and a tool crate.
As he rounded the edge of the long string of stalls, an older, gruff looking man, his stature nearly filling the door, stepped into the stable, clutching onto the top boards of the first stall.
“Lucas!” A crack broke in the man’s voice as he called out his name again. “You made it.”
Lucas set down his cargo and stared at him, eyes narrowed, hoping for some sense of recognition.
Granddad? He didn’t trust himself to speak the name aloud.
“Lucas, is that really you?” the older man’s whispered voice broke with emotion and he rushed forward, throwing his arms around his grandson and squeezing hard before pushing him away far enough to see his face. “Let me look at ya.”
“Hello, Granddad. I’m Lucas.” He’d prepared what he was going to say over and over again during his weeks on the trail, but at this moment, his mind was nothing more than a blank slate. He didn’t trust himself to say anything else at that moment, for fear his voice would crack too.
“Of course you are. And you’re a right grown man.”
Lucas cleared his throat. “Yes, sir.”
Granddad draped his arm around him and walked with him to the edge of the barn. “Lucy said you’ve holed up in the bunkhouse. But, I’ve got her seeing to it now that you have a nice room of your own inside the main house.” He turned away and coughed into his shoulder, then squeezed Lucas’s arm.
Arggg! Sharp pains shot up his shoulder and into his back. He bit his lip and tensed his hands. Breathe, Deardon! He would stand here for an eternity, pain and all, if it meant having his grandfather welcome him with open arms.
“My grandson. Here. And in time for the holiday feast.” He coughed again. “I never would have believed it. It’s been so long.” Granddad clasped Lucas hard on the shoulder again, then released him.
Lucas grunted inwardly, flexing his jaw against the pain. Relief mixed with regret as the ache from his grandfather’s grip subsided as did the welcoming feeling of his touch. The man’s tenderness surprised him.
“Supper is almost ready. We’ve got a lot to catch up on. Go get your things and meet me inside.”
“Yes, sir. Right after I put blankets on all of the remaining horses.”
Granddad stood still for a moment, just staring at him. His chest puffed out slightly and he smiled crookedly. Then, he nodded and ducked out into the increasingly cold storm toward the house, lifting his arms to protect him from the onslaught of snow that now fell in droves.
Cough. Cough. The cough could be heard above the rush of strong winds.
That doesn’t sound good.
Lucas scrunched his brows together. The man he’d just met, his grandfather, was not a man who never wanted to see his grandchildren again.
“Dad lied,” he whispered to himself. To hear his father tell it, Liam Deardon was a hard man—impossible even with nary an ounce of compassion. How many times had he heard o
ver the years that their grandfather was too stubborn to allow them to visit? How many times had they needlessly felt rejected by people they loved?
Too many.
He’d lied. What other explanation could there be?
The only empty bedroom in the house that still had a bed was the one right across from Lucy’s.
“What are you doing to me, Liam?” she asked aloud, though under her breath.
The idea of such a beautiful man’s quarters so close to hers both thrilled and alarmed her. What of propriety? She’d already been distracted from her duties all day just thinking about Liam’s grandson and was worried that nothing would ever get done with him around. And with all the festivities later in the week, there was still plenty to do, despite the imposing weather.
The back door opened and closed. Instinctively, Lucy checked her reflection in the dark window’s glass and immediately chastised herself for her vanity. Heavy footfalls against the wooden floor set the pit of her stomach into chaos. Her plans for the day had been disrupted by the storm and she wasn’t sure what to do with herself, so she quickly escaped into the kitchen to help with supper, only to find Liam seated at the head of the table.
He looked up. “Ah, Lucas, my boy. Sit. Sit.”
Lucy’s brows furrowed and she turned back to look over her shoulder.
“Excuse me,” a deep, resonant voice cooed in low tones from behind her. He cradled her elbow as he guided her out of his path, making his way into the kitchen and to the Deardon-sized dinner table. A tingling sensation rippled up her arms and over the whole of her at his brazen touch.
That will be enough of that. You don’t know anything about this man.
Of course she hadn’t known anything about Gilroy Hearn either and she had committed to marry him through a mere exchange of several letters over a relatively short period of time. Look where that had gotten her. She stopped herself before mustering any ill will. After all, something good had come of the situation. She should thank Mr. Hearn for running off with the shop-keep’s daughter. She would have never met Liam Deardon or his family had it not been for the cheat.
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