Chapter 10
Lucy stood in her bedroom. The closet door was open, and she stared at the long line of jeans, folded over the hangers. There were also flannel shirts. Some in plaid. Some striped. Some in solid colors of blue, brown, and dark gray. But there was nothing she could wear on a date.
She had no idea why she had called, or agreed to go out with Aiden.
It had been a hasty decision, fueled by self-pity after hours of looking at other people’s happy lives on social media. Oh sure, she knew the stuff people posted wasn’t the entire truth. But it didn’t change the fact that Lucy was alone.
“Hey, Luce,” her grandfather called out. The front door shut with a bang. “Where are you?”
“In my room,” she called back, staring into her closet that was full of nothing to wear.
“What are you doing?” he asked as his thumping footsteps came down the hall.
“Nothing.” Even she heard the despair in her voice.
“It doesn’t sound like nothing. You want to talk?”
“I made a stupid mistake. Now I need to undo it. But I don’t know how.”
“Why don’t you tell me about it?” Grandpa Rusty leaned on the doorframe.
Lucy had been wrong about being alone. Her grandfather was always in her corner. What was she supposed to tell him? He’d encourage her to go out with Aiden. “You won’t like what I have to say.”
“Try me,” he said.
“Well, I took your advice and called Aiden Colton. I asked if he still wanted to go out and he said yes.”
“That’s great news,” said Rusty, giving a clap. “He seems like a nice guy. Why would that upset me?”
“Because,” said Lucy, “I’m not going.”
“What?” Grandpa Rusty furrowed his brows. “Why not?”
“For starters, I don’t have anything to wear.” She gestured to her closet. “Jeans and flannel shirts and T-shirts are fine for the ranch. But I can’t wear them out.”
“You’re right,” said Rusty, nodding. “You can’t.”
Lucy’s jaw went slack. She couldn’t believe that her grandfather gave in so easily. She closed her mouth. “I’ll just have to call him and tell him that I can’t make it.”
“Hold up,” said Rusty. “You don’t have anything to wear. But I do.”
“I am not going out in your clothes. No way. No how.”
“Not my clothes,” he said, backing out of her room. “Stay here and don’t call Aiden.”
Lucy sat on the edge of her bed. Her grandfather returned moments later, holding a large cardboard box. “Let’s see what we have in here.” After setting the box next to Lucy, he opened the flaps. The floral scent of her grandmother’s perfume surrounded her.
He began to rifle through the contents. “Your grandmother was from a different generation. But she had some nice things. They were classics, you’d say.” After a moment, he pulled out a silk blouse in deep blue. “This was one of her favorites.”
“I remember her wearing that shirt every Christmas.” Lucy would sit on her grandmother’s lap, touching the pearl buttons, as her grandmother read “’Twas the Night before Christmas.”
“She has another in black and red.” Rusty found the other two shirts.
“The red was for Thanksgiving and the black one she wore to funerals.”
Rusty laid the three shirts on Lucy’s bedspread. He smoothed them down. “They’ve been boxed up for years, so they’re wrinkled. But it’s nothing an iron can’t fix.” Rusty paused. “What do you think? Is one of these nice enough for you to wear out?”
Lucy touched the pearl buttons on the blue shirt. For one moment, she was young and surrounded by family and love. She wanted that life again.
But everyone was gone and they weren’t coming back.
That meant she was going to have to make a new life.
She been silent for too long. Rusty shifted from one foot to the other. “Are you going to go out with Aiden?”
“Yes,” she said, her voice not much louder than a whisper. “I think I will.”
Stu Whittier never meant for his life to end up like this.
It all started after being prescribed opiates for pain after breaking his collarbone.
It was like a flip had been switched and he craved the drugs.
For years, he complained to doctors about discomfort that didn’t exist. Then, even that wasn’t enough.
He’d bought drugs off the street. To get the money, he’d broken into houses and taken everything he could carry.
He’d been caught once and gone to jail. That’s when he started working for his boss. At first, it seemed perfect. Stu had been given drugs for work.
But his boss was an unreasonable man with more power than anyone in Red Grove guessed. So, when he said that he wanted the Five Steers Ranch, Stu knew that he had to deliver.
The newest orders had been simple. Get rid of Lucy Harris. Once she was gone, the old man would happily sell the land.
His car rumbled down the road. The air conditioner quit working in July, forcing him to drive with the windows open. It meant that the stink of exhaust was always with him.
It had been dumb luck that he’d run into Ted Barrett and those two Colton do-gooders. It was more than luck when Ted had blabbed about the patrols. It meant that Stu knew the clock was ticking. If he wanted to get rid of Lucy, then he had to act quickly.
Parking his car far enough away that they wouldn’t hear his muffler in the house, Stu turned off the engine. He pocketed the keys and pushed a button, unlatching the trunk.
After opening the driver’s side door, he walked to the back of the car and lifted the lid.
Inside, several tools were scattered on the floorboard.
A hammer. A screwdriver. A wrench. A mallet.
He found a pair of pliers, exactly what he needed.
Holding them in one hand, he closed the trunk, careful not to make a sound.
Stu looked left and right, making sure that the road was free of traffic.
It was. He jogged across the pavement. Trees lined both sides of the drive.
A large sign hung over the lane. Five Steers Ranch.
He moved into the tree line and walked toward the house.
It took him only a few minutes until he was even with the property.
Still hidden in the woods, he watched and waited.
An old blue truck was parked near the house.
The house itself was quiet. Stu quickly crossed over to the vehicle.
He slid under the chassis and found what he needed in seconds.
There were four brake lines. Using the pliers, he nicked one of the lines.
The sickly-sweet stench of brake fluid surrounded him.
The brakes would work at first. But once the vehicle got going, enough fluid would leak out for them to fail. Using his heels, Stu pushed himself out from under the truck. Without a backward glance, he ran for the tree line and disappeared into the woods.
Lucy stood in the bathroom. She looked at her own reflection, and honestly, she liked what she saw.
Her blond hair was freshly washed and plaited into a braid.
She’d scrubbed all the dirt from her hands and had even painted her nails a shade of light pink.
She wore her grandmother’s blue silk blouse and thin gold necklace.
She checked her phone for the time.
6:36 p.m.
She was supposed to meet Aiden in downtown Red Grove in thirty minutes. If she left now, she’d make it on time. Turning from the bathroom, she walked down the hall.
“Grandpa,” she called, while coming down the stairs. “Where are you?”
“In the kitchen,” he yelled back.
Lucy found Grandpa Rusty sitting at the table. “You look pretty,” he said.
That’s when she noticed the plate of leftover spaghetti and meatballs in front of him. Guilt tugged at her chest. She shouldn’t leave her grandfather alone, especially after the fire.
“I’ll call Aiden. Tell him I can’t make it and fix you something to eat.”
“Go, Lucy. Have fun,” said her grandfather. “Besides, spaghetti is better the second night.”
“It might not be safe for me to leave you alone,” she said. “Nobody knows who started the fire, or why.”
“Are you ready to discuss whether or not we should stay at the ranch?”
She was definitely not ready to talk about that. “No.”
“Why are you making excuses, Luce?” Grandpa Rusty sighed. “I understand that you’re nervous. Trust me, everyone is anxious on a first date.”
Her heart started to race. What if she had another panic attack? She couldn’t do this. She had to find a way to stay home. “It’s rude of me to leave you alone all evening,” she said, as sweat dotted her upper lip. She wiped it away. “You worked hard doing all my chores.”
“I’ll be fine. In fact, I have my own plans.”
Who was the one making excuses now? “Oh yeah, what are they?”
“I’m having a video call with a friend of mine who just moved to Miami.” Was it her imagination, or did Rusty just sit up taller?
“Do you even know how to do a video call?”
Rusty’s phone sat next to him. He lifted it from the table. “I’ve done them before.”
She still wasn’t convinced. “Who’s your friend? What’s his name?”
“Luce, my friend isn’t a him. It’s a her.” He paused a beat. “Nancy Snowden. She went to high school with your grandma and me. Her husband died two years ago, and she just moved to Florida.”
That’s when she noticed that her grandfather was also freshly showered. His silvery hair was slicked back. He had shaved and put on a clean shirt. There was no way she could stay home now. The keys to the truck were always kept in a bowl on a counter. She picked them up.
“Alright, then,” she said, placing a kiss on his cheek. “You have a good evening. I’ll be back later.”
“Wait. You need these.” Her grandfather rose from his seat and pulled a set of car keys from his pocket. They were for his vintage car—the one he spent years rebuilding and rarely drove.
“I can’t take your car.”
“You’re my princess,” he said, pressing the keys into her palm. “And this is your carriage.”
Lucy laughed. “Since you came up with my version of a ball gown, I guess that makes you my fairy godmother.”
“Fairy grandfather,” said Rusty, correcting her.
She laughed, putting the truck keys back into the bowl. “Have a nice evening.”
“You, too.”