Her Heart's Desire (Sunflower Series Book 1) (27 page)

“I know. I hope I don’t poison him. However,
to change the subject for a tiny second, there’s lots of murmurs
about you today in town.”

“About?”

“I’m not sure where this came from,” Zoë
said, hesitantly. “Lips are flapping about someone putting his lips
to yours. Did something happen last night after the party I don’t
know about?”

“Nothing.” Lia giggled.

“Out with it. What did you and Lucas do? Did
Craig catch you kissing down at the creek?”

“I’ll tell you when I see you,” Lia said.
“I’m not talking about this over the phone.”

“Be that way. Pork chops or bison?” Zoë
asked.

“You want to talk about meat? I have a
beautiful diamond hanging on a chain around my neck.”

“Repeat that? I didn’t copy on this end.”

“A. Diamond. Pendant. On a chain.”

The squeal from the phone hurt Lia’s ear. She
pulled it away and put it on speaker.

“Helen was right!” Zoë shouted.

“Calm down. Lucas and I are taking things
slow. There’s no engagement. He hasn’t asked me to marry
him...yet.”

“I’m sooo happy for you.” Zoë gushed. “But
you didn’t think to call me the second after he gave you a rock?
Hello! Girl, I’m your BFF!”

Lia sighed. “Things got complicated...because
of Craig. And that’s a whole can of bad news I don’t want to talk
about right now.”

“Oh! That’s the other reason I called. Have
another piece of news for you. Just heard about Gus. He got hurt at
a rodeo last night. Spent the night in the hospital. Bad back. Not
sure if he’s going to be able to meet his contracts.”

Those words drained Lia’s laughter. “Gotta
go.” She hung up and dialed Gus’s number.

“Hello?” A woman answered, her voice rising
several octaves with just one word.

“This is Lia Britton. How’s Gus?”

“Lia Britton?” Toni, Gus’s wife, asked. The
woman’s French accent was strong. “Brittons don’t have a girl named
Lia.” The phone went silent.

Lia called back. “This is Amelia Britton. I
would like to speak to Gus, please.”

“He rests.”

“I’m so sorry to hear he got hurt.”

“He said he call people to change times. In
few weeks, he can do work.”

“Give him my regards. I’ll wait for his
call.”

Lia hung up the phone. Doubt welled in her
stomach and inched like a worm up to her throat. Uneasiness settled
around her shoulders. What else could go wrong?

She ran to the back deck and scanned the
undulating scenery covered in green stalks of corn dotted with
sections of tall yellow sunflowers, their faces tilted toward the
sun. The wind had picked up since that morning. Clouds often blew
in and blew out with the prairie wind. A usual day in Kansas. The
harvest would net her bargaining power with Craig. Worry was an
insidious monster, and she had to vanquish it from her mind.

“No sense in getting alarmed before trouble
actually arrives,” she chided herself. Heading back inside, she
checked the weather reports just for added comfort. Jack scooted in
through the dog door and plopped at her feet.

“Nothing out of the ordinary. Daily
temperature highs would drop a degree, and the nights would lower
by several. The wind would blow. Nothing exciting in the five-day
forecast,” she said, petting Jack.

Yet, uneasiness pecked at her gut like a
chicken pecking for bugs. What if a freak ice storm hit, like the
one five years ago? Downed trees. Downed power lines. Cars down in
ditches. The city and county shut down. Downed corn meant no
harvest. Not only would her half of the crop be lost, but all of
Craig’s, too. She’d be down and out for the winter, maybe
forever.

And with Lucas gone, how would she
survive?

Picking up the phone, she punched speed dial
for her brother. “Craig, I don’t know exactly what to say, but I
want to talk with you about what happened this morning. More
importantly, I want to talk about your threat to sell the farm.
Please call me.”

She needed a distraction until she heard from
him. From the wall unit in the living room housing the TV and
stereo, she pulled out a drawer with CDs. Her mother’s collection.
Louis Armstrong, Billie Holiday, Bonnie Raitt, Keb’ Mo’, Trombone
Shorty, Winton Marsalis, Tab Benoit. She plucked out a Christ Botti
with Lucia Micarelli CD. Both musicians played passionately, and
their music would boost her spirits, maybe take her to a place
where she could paint while waiting for Craig to call.

The first violin and trumpet notes sang out.
Somehow, these two artists captured the emotions of love and
anchored them in her heart. Lia hugged herself and glided around
the room as though dancing in Lucas’s arms. Immersed in the music,
when
Emmanuelle
ended, she cranked up the volume and headed
straight for the studio. Now she could paint.

The ever-faithful Jack followed her and
curled up on his bed. Later they’d go for a run. She’d take him
down to the creek and trace the letters she’d carved in the tree
many years ago, just to feel extra close to Lucas.

Reds, blues, blacks, with flecks of gold, she
painted with the tempo of the music. When Jack barked, it startled
her. “What?”

She glanced outside. Dusk blanketed the sky.
When a pause in the music came, she heard the phone ringing.
Catching a glimpse of caller ID, she rolled the stool over and
grabbed for the phone.

“Craig?”

“I’m returning your call.” He sounded all
official and businesslike.

“Thank you for the birthday present. I wish I
could have opened it while you were here.”

“You had the chance. You were going to open
it after the party, remember?”

“I’m sorry. I don’t want things to be strange
between us.”

“How can I help you, Amelia?” His voice was
all business again.

“Give me a chance to buy you out,” she said,
cutting to the heart of the matter.

“Fine. I’ll wait until you harvest the crop.
I’m not a complete ass. But if you can’t come up with
all
the money, then the farm is sold. The buyer is waiting patiently. I
can’t afford...you can’t afford, to lose this deal.”

If the harvest brought in enough money,
combined with what she had saved in the bank and the sales from her
art, she might be able to swing it, even if it meant she only ate
mac and cheese all winter.

“Thank you,” she said softly.

“No need to thank me. This is a business
deal. Nothing personal. As for the rest of your life, I won’t
interfere.”

“You’re my brother.” She worried about the
direction the conversation headed. “You make it sound like you’re
cutting me out of your life.”

“No. But, I won’t lie. I’m not happy about
you and Lucas. I admit I acted the fool today. I...let’s stick to
business for now. In time, I hope we’ll work the personal stuff
out. I’ve got to go.” The line went silent.

Lia clutched the phone. Lucas was away, and
now she’d lost her brother, too.

Chapter 23

Lia woke to Jack’s barking. The sound set her
teeth on edge. She scrunched her face and pulled the blanket over
her head.

When Jack continued to bark, she shouted,
“What?”

Then she heard the muffled ring of the phone.
She lifted her head from the lumpy couch in the sunroom. The
ringing continued. Her body ached as though she’d been kicked to
the side of the road. She’d fallen asleep last night, same as the
night before, after painting as though on steroids to replace the
stolen canvases for the show. Three days. That’s all she had before
the show opened to special guests and critics.

She reached over her head for the phone. When
she pushed the talk button, a dial tone rang in her ears. As she
attempted to set the phone back on its cradle, it rang again,
startling her. She dropped the phone on the floor. Feeling around,
she grabbed it along with a dust bunny of Jack’s fur. “Hello?”

“Lia, Gus. You been watchin’ the news?”

Lia rubbed her eyes. Squinting, she looked
through the windows to the world outside. Tumbling leaves and
rustling branches. She glimpsed the power of the wind. Not a gentle
breeze, but strong and stiff enough to push a dark front down from
the north. Although her eyes could see, her brain had no
motivation. She wanted more sleep. “Gus, is there something you
need?

“No! I’m calling because you need help.”

Lia sat up. Nothing appeared to be on fire.
She sniffed. Racing to the window, she scanned the sky for a plume
of smoke. Again nothing. Curling up on the couch and pulling the
blanket over her feet, she wondered if her brain was just too foggy
to connect the dots. “What help do I need?”

“I feel like I’m letting you down. With the
storm coming, there’s maybe two to three days before it gets here.
Everyone’s gotta rush to get their crops in, and I’m flat on my
back still. I’ve called around, tried to pull some strings, but I
can’t find anyone to combine for you. The rest of my crew headed
out of town while I’m laid up.”

Lia jumped up. “You mean I’m going to lose
the crop?” Dread rolled into a tight knot in her chest. Nausea
tried to heave its way up. “No! I can’t. No.”

“I even called a buddy down in Little Rock.
Said if he could get here, he could use my combine. Because of the
path of the storm, I think south of here will be okay. He’s not in
any danger, but he already promised his time to another farmer in
Columbia, Missouri.” Hopelessness rang in Gus’s voice like a
solider fighting his last battle.

“Gus, please keep trying. In the meantime,
I’m going to call Lucas and check his schedule, just in case.”

“Lucas is booked. I already called. He’s a
day’s drive away with all his equipment. He’s got contracts he’s
got to fill.”

Lia’s heart sank. Her life was like a boat
taking on water fast. “Gus, thanks for trying. Please don’t give
up. Don’t you have like a black book or something with names of
other harvesters? Keep on it. I’ll see what I can do.”

Phone in hand, Lia paced. She started to hit
speed dial for her brother, but he’d shake his head in disgust. He
might not say
I told you so
, but even without the words, the
sentiment would still ring in his voice. Besides, he didn’t have
any helpful contacts, only ones wanting to buy the farm.

“You will fail.” Craig’s words echoed louder
and louder.

Lia sprinted to the kitchen and flipped on
the coffee maker. She ran to the shower. She needed a clear head
and clean clothes. After that, she’d find a way. Until her last
breath had been ripped from her body, she wouldn’t give up without
a fight.

Back in the kitchen, fortified with hot java
and reheated bacon on toast, she let Gentleman Jack out to run and
sat at the kitchen counter with the inventory for the boxes. If she
posted a sale on her website, cut the prices by half, and then
managed to sell everything, which was possible though unlikely,
she’d make her bills through the end of December. If she finished
her paintings and all of them sold at the show, she’d make ends
meet until April and buy out Craig. But that left no money for
plowing, seed, and planting in the spring, which would bankrupt her
and force her to sell the farm.

Could she call Lucas and beg? Offer to pay
him half again his regular fee to rescue her crop? Lia sighed. That
wouldn’t work. Lucas would never compromise his reputation with his
farmers. If he didn’t get their crops in, they wouldn’t hire him
again. Dropping everything to help her would be shortsighted on his
part. And even if he were willing, she wouldn’t let him make that
sacrifice for her. He had Megan to put through college. Besides,
she’d told him she could manage things. She had to find a way. Boy,
she hated the taste of crow.

Lia headed to the back deck and parked on the
top step. From there, she could see miles of gentle rolling hills.
Her farm. Her crop. Even her neighbor’s land. The wind whipped her
hair. She twisted it and shoved the makeshift ponytail inside the
back of her shirt. Drumming her fingers on her thighs and tapping
her feet, she tried to quell her panic. Fear tasted bitter in her
mouth.

Squeezing her eyes tightly, she pictured the
view from her apartment in the city. Within a few seconds, she
began to pant as though out of breath. Too many buildings, too much
concrete, too many people. Her thoughts drifted to her city studio.
Bright light, paint-splattered floors, though big and wide, still
closed in. But also, no longer usable space, and she still hadn’t
heard back from the fire marshal.

There had to be an angle she’d missed. Life
in the city would be a life of treading water. Head above the
surface, able to breath, but never getting anywhere. Not a life for
her.

Gentleman Jack joined her on the porch. He
plopped down on the deck and put his head in her lap. Lia stroked
him, needing the calm he offered. His tailed wagged.

“You hated the city. You were only a young
pup then, but you’d have no place to run like this. Okay, Jack,
what do we do? When Craig has an investment problem, he does
research. Sometimes that means talking to consultants. So, maybe I
need a consultant. Who better than Lucas? I won’t ask him for help.
I’ll ask for suggestions. Come on, don’t just lie there. Let’s get
the phone.”

Jack followed her into the house. She grabbed
the phone and hit speed dial for Lucas. When Lucas didn’t answer,
her eyes welled with tears. Fear and frustration like she’d never
known were using her gut as a pin cushion. She listened to his
message, happy to hear the sound of his voice, which gave her a
small boost of hope. At the beep she said, “Lucas, I’m guessing
you’ve been really busy because you haven’t called. Anyway, it’s
Friday morning and I’m swallowing my pride. I want to consult with
you. When you get this message, please call me back.” She hoped
he’d call soon. Sometimes cell phone service was spotty in the
flats of west Kansas, more unreliable than the Pony Express had
ever been.