Her thoughts were interrupted when Liam coughed. His breathing had a slight wheeze to it and the overall tone to his skin was pallid, even though his cheeks were flushed. She didn’t know why she hadn’t seen it before. She guessed she had just been too excited to see him after weeks of being away. But the robust man she’d come to know and love, looked overly tired and she made a mental note to have a nice, hot bath drawn and a fire stoked in his hearth. The man obviously needed some rest after his journey.
Cough.
“Liam,” she asked as she approached the table, “how long have you had that cough?”
“Ah, don’t concern yourself with me, Lucy Mae. It’s nothing.” He waved to her. “Come. Sit with us. I was just going to talk to Lucas about my letters.”
Lucy’s feet would not move toward them. Couldn’t. She smiled apologetically. “I think we’ll just wire the doctor first. I know he’s in Thistleberry today, but he has a new apprentice,” she hoped that’s what he was called, “who I am sure can finish his rounds in town. I’ll be right back.” She took a step toward Liam’s office.
“If you’re already headed all the way into town, why would you need to wire him?” Lucas asked, his confusion understandable.
Lucy wasn’t quite sure how to respond.
“I’m just heading into your grandfather’s study.”
“Are you telling me that you have a telegraph here? In the house?” Lucas asked, awe and incredulity apparent in his voice.
She ignored him and took another step.
“Look outside, Lucy.” Liam motioned toward the window. “I’m not going to risk him coming out in this weather for a simple little cough. There is nothing he can do right now that a cup of hot tea won’t cure.”
“I’ll just put a pot on the stove, then.”
“Sit!” he said firmly. “Please.” His voice softened. “I want you to get to know your betrothed.”
“Her what?” Lucas demanded, echoing her surprise. He pushed back the chair and was on his feet in an instant. He looked at Lucy, then back at Liam. “Whoa. Wait a minute. I never agreed to get married. Not to anyone.”
“Liam,” Lucy looked up at him with a smile she hoped would convince him to listen to her, “I thought we’d agreed. No more matchmaking.” She should be surprised at what her benefactor had clearly written in his letters, but she wasn’t. He had felt responsible for her situation from the beginning and had made it his mission to find her the right husband.
Lucas had told her that he hadn’t received any of his grandfather’s letters, but still, the disappointment at his obvious aversion to even the idea of marrying her stung.
“That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? You got my letters and you came to fulfill an old man’s wish?”
“Sorry, Granddad. Miss Lucy said you sent us a letter right after she got here, but if that’s so, we never received it. At least not that I know of. And I sure as h—” he swallowed the last word and looked over at her. “I didn’t see it,” he amended.
Liam glanced between her and his grandson, then he motioned for her to join them at the table.
She stayed put for as long as she dared, but Liam Deardon had been good to her and she didn’t have the heart to deny him. She complied with his wishes and took the seat across the table from Lucas. Liam reached out and squeezed her hand with a wink, then turned his focus back to his grandson.
“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.”
Chapter Five
“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 ne
xt 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.
Chapter Six
“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.
The Deardons Complete Mini-Series Page 12
