Lucas Read Free

cry from the busy streets of New
York, but as she took a deep breath, she couldn’t help the excitement this
opportunity brought. She had a plan. And this is where she would make her home.
    Several men and women
had gathered around the stage and Lucy looked for any sign of the man who’d
been described in her letters—average height and build with a thin mustache.
Plenty of men looking on fit that description, but as she glanced toward each
of them, none seemed to be there to collect her.
    Maybe he’s just running
late. It was hard, after all, to predict the exact time a stage might arrive.
    A rather large framed
man with sunny blond hair picked up the enormous blue trunk that belonged to
one of her traveling companions and slung it up onto his back, evoking a giggle
from the girl that made Lucy’s eyes roll. A young, nice looking man with a
slight mustache walked toward her and suddenly her heart started beating
heavily in her chest. She stood up straight, prepared to offer her hand.
    He smiled at her,
tipped his hat, and reached down for the brown riveted trunk she hadn’t
realized sat next to her feet. Her uneasy smile froze in place, her gaze
quickly darting from man to man as they lined the street.
    He’s not coming.
    “Excuse me, ma’am, but
are you Miss Lucy Russell?”
    She spun around with a
smile, anxious to meet the man who belonged to the deep and rugged baritone voice.
    “Hello,” she said,
annoyed at the slight crack in her voice. She certainly hadn’t expected him to
have white hair and a clean shaven face.
    He’s old enough to be
my grandfather, she mused as she craned her neck to look up at the tall gentleman. H e’s
certainly not average…anything.
    With her back straight
and her chin held high, she extended her hand. “Gilroy Hearn, I presume?”
    The man cleared his
throat, but instead of taking her hand, he took her bag.
    “Liam Deardon, ma’am,”
he corrected, meeting her eyes straight on. “Now, here’s the thing...” He
scrubbed the back of his curled fingers across his leathery looking jaw line.
    Her stomach dropped
along with her hand.
    “If you’ll just come
with me I can explain on the way.” He threw her bag into the back of a
buckboard waiting behind them in front of the General Store.
    “On the way to where?”
    “Home,” Mr. Deardon
announced. “Whisper Ridge Ranch.” He held out a hand to help her into the
wagon.
    She lifted her skirt
and slid her other hand into his, unsure what to make of the situation. “I
don’t understand. Where is Mr. Hearn?” She sat on the bench, determined to
silence the alarm that sounded in her head.
    The older gentleman
gingerly pulled himself up onto the wagon seat next to her and collected the
reins. “I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news.” He looked straight ahead and
snapped the leather straps in his hands. “Hi-yah!”
     

     
    Oregon, One Week Later
     
    “Montana isn’t that far
away. It’s only a couple of hundred miles,” Lucas told Jonah as he tightened
the saddle strap on his horse. He winced slightly at the pain the motion shot
through his shoulder. “Adonis here will get me there with no problems, won’t
you boy?” He patted the gelding’s back.
    The horse whinnied as
if he’d understood every word.
    Lucas laughed.
    “You can’t travel there
alone.”
    “He won’t have to,”
Noah stepped into the stable and pulled his tack down off the wall.
    Lucas smiled. “And just
how did you get out of heading over to Eureka and working Markham’s ranch?”
    “Oh, I didn’t. I’m to
report there first thing tomorrow. I was referring to Jonah. I think he could
use some distance from this place. From Dad.”
    “And what about Emma?”
Lucas asked.
    “What about me?” As if
on cue, Jonah’s bride walked through the stable doors.
    His brother’s face lit
up and he scooped his wife into his arms and kissed her smack on the mouth.
    Lucas knew he should
look away, but it was good to see Jonah happy. He deserved