Chapter 2
NOAH LUCAS
The Lazy Moose was buzzing with wedding preparations. The place I’d grown up in was familiar yet altered. A few lanterns hung from the barn rafters, someone had chalked out rows where chairs would go, and the frame of a floral arch stood bare in the distance, waiting to be dressed.
I leaned against Big Joe, taking it all in before anyone spotted me. Oak trees aren’t common in Montana, but this old guy had held his ground since the farm was built, weathering storms and generations alike. My brother Elia was the fifth Lucas to call this land home, and BJ was still standing.
This should’ve been my home too.
I was a Lucas. Even if most folks had forgotten.
In their minds, there was only Elia. Brother? What brother?
I pushed off the tree and strode toward the main house, crossing open ground. Damn. It’d be a beautiful wedding, whoever was getting hitched.
The wind stirred through the pines, and as I passed the barn, a few horses nickered.
God, I’d missed this. The dirt, the work, and the way life out here had a rhythm that didn’t require board meetings or fake smiles. There’s no watching the stock market like an insomniac hawk. Just the kind of hard that made sense.
“Noah!”
Elia hobbled out from the house, his moon boot still strapped to his left leg. Injury or not, I could tell he was working harder than he should be. The man wasn’t built to take it easy.
That was his problem, not mine. I was stepping in. I’d take over most of the stubborn load, whether he liked it or not.
Before I could get a word out, he wrapped an arm around me in a firm, back-thumping hug. “Welcome home, brother.”
I gave him a quick squeeze, then stepped back. “Only took a corporate breakdown, two exes, and a pair of boots I don’t know how to walk in.”
“Checks out,” he shot back, giving me a once-over. “You look like city life finally chewed you up and spit you back out.”
I smirked. “And you look like a cowboy on his last leg. Oh, wait—” I squinted at the moon boot. “That’s actually true.”
“Hey, one leg or no leg, I’d still outranch your ass,” he shot back, then tipped his chin toward the setup. “So? What do you think?”
I let out a low whistle. “Would you look at that? The Lazy Moose hosts weddings now. Gotta say, I love it.”
“Well, we’re still pushing cows the same as always. We’re just putting some of the extra space to work,” Elia said.
“Smart move,” I said. “Diversify the portfolio. What’s next? Goat yoga?”
Elia snorted. “Don’t say that to Claire. She’ll start handing out mats and signing up the whole town.”
The farm needed the extra income. Elia, my big brother, the one carrying the weight of the Lucas family legacy, hadn’t sugarcoated the struggles. Ranching was never easy, but this year had been brutal. And now, with an injury and a baby in the mix?
Good thing his wife, Claire, was smart like that. Always thinking ahead.
“So, you finally got sick of running your media empire in Utah?” Elia asked.
I let out a breath. Since leaving home, I’d been it all—data-entry grunt, call center slave, stock market gambler, and eventually, media wrangler.
“Something like that,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck. “Worked a hundred hours a week, no holidays. Then I sold it.”
Elia eyed me for a second. “Appreciate you coming back. I really needed your help.”
“Hey, we’re brothers,” I said simply. “I hadn’t been—” here enough.
Elia didn’t let me finish. He simply patted my shoulder, his voice quieter now when he said, “You’re here. That’s what matters.”
He knew why I’d stayed away.
And he knew better than to ask.
Elia grabbed one of my bags while I hauled the other over my shoulder, following him inside. The house smelled buttery, maybe from whatever Claire had baked earlier.
Before we even made it to the door, a blur of black and white fur shot across the yard.
“Koda, chill,” Elia said, but the dog wasn’t listening.
The border collie launched himself at me like I was the prodigal son who had come home, his tail whipping so hard that it sent his whole body into a wiggle. He’d been here forever, or close to it. Twelve years now, at least.
“Well, I guess someone missed me.” I crouched, ruffling his fur as he let out an excited yip. “I don’t remember you being this needy.”
Elia scoffed. “He’s got a soft spot for the ones who leave.”
I gave Koda one last pat before stepping inside.
Claire stood at the counter in her floral workshop, her hands moving deftly as she arranged blooms in a wide glass vase.
Stunning, bold-colored flowers. My sister-in-law had an eye for it, even though she was deep into her veterinarian studies.
Somehow, she still found time to put together arrangements that looked straight out of a wedding magazine.
And she was doing all of it with a baby strapped to her chest and a rescue husky pressed close. Damn impressive.
“Noah!” Claire beamed, shifting just enough so I could lean in and kiss her cheek.
Little Dylan mumbled something, his tiny fingers gripping the edge of her shirt.
“Look, Dylan,” Claire cooed, adjusting the wrap that held him snug against her. “It’s Uncle Noah!”
I ran a hand over Dylan’s plump cheek, and his eyes lit up. The second I took over from Claire, he all but melted into my arms, kicking happily as if he had important news to tell me.
I chuckled. “Alright, kid, slow down. One at a time.”
Claire beamed as she went back to her flowers. “You’re his favorite!”
“Obviously,” I said, bouncing him slightly. “He’s got good taste.”
Bobo, the husky, gave me a cautious sniff before retreating behind Claire. He’d been with her for over a year, but the trauma kept him locked in that anxious, Velcro-dog stage.
“So, when’s this wedding happening?” I asked, shifting Dylan into a more comfortable position.
“Next weekend,” Claire said, weaving a sprig of greenery between the blooms.
Dylan babbled a few more incoherent sentences, his chubby fingers curling and uncurling against my chest.
Elia glanced up. “How’d you get here? Didn’t see your car.”
“Still waiting on it at the rental,” I said. “Buster gave me a lift. Came in from the west, past Big Joe.”
Elia cracked a smile. “So you really bought that parcel he was trying to unload?”
“He needed the money, and I wanted the place.” I shrugged. “Felt right.”
He clapped a hand on my shoulder. “Good on you, brother. Dad always had his eye on that land but could never bring himself to ask.”
“That too,” I said. “But for me, it was the house. You don’t come across a real Victorian out here very often.”
“So you’re stayin’ for good then?”
“I am.”
His smile stretched wide as he pulled me into a tight hug. “Can’t tell you how damn happy that makes me.”
I jabbed him lightly. “You know, El, with The Lazy Moose…if you ever need—”
“Don’t,” he cut in. “We’ve talked about this. I need a hand, not a handout.”
That was Elia. Stubborn as they come. I’d chipped in enough to help keep the ranch going, but he wouldn’t let me fix everything at once, even if I could. Not his way.
“Anything you do need,” I said, meaning every word.
Dylan got heavier, his limbs slackening, his eyelids drooping, but the kid fought it like a little bull rider.
Claire glanced over. “Put him to bed, won’t you?”
“Sure.”
I carried him down the hall, his tiny grip still fisted in my shirt. Claire had turned my sister’s old bedroom into a nursery. The place was unrecognizable—bright, peaceful, and full of color and life. Thank God for that. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have set foot in this room.
And with Dylan in my arms, for him, I could face anything. Past or present. Gloomy or bright.
“Right, D?” I murmured.
He burrowed closer, as if knowing I needed the contact as much as he did.
By the time I laid him in his crib, he was out cold, his one hand curled by his face, his breath steady.
Then I heard the front door open. Claire’s voice carried down the hall, warm and welcoming, followed by two or three cheerful replies.
Dylan stirred, his little forehead scrunching up.
“Hey, no need to be alarmed, bud. Just guests.” I ran a hand over his barely-there hair. “Nothing that concerns us.”
I stepped back, easing the door closed, but not before I caught a glimpse of the guests.
Two women stood by Claire’s workbench, chatting about bouquets. They had to be the bridal party.
And that one woman with her dark hair twisted up like she was ready to step straight into a fairy tale? Yeah, she had to be the bride.
She had on a fitted plaid shirt, knotted just above her waist, jeans that hugged curves I had no business noticing, and that smile, bright, effortless, and the kind that could make a man forget what he was doing.
Maybe it was the fresh air out here. Or maybe I’d spent too long in the city, surrounded by the same polished, predictable faces. It was true what the folks said. Country girls had something in them.
And that was a distraction I didn’t have time for.
Thank God she’s getting married.
I came back to Dylan, and he pulled at the cuff of my shirt.
“I know, I know. I gotta get my shit together, right?” Then I corrected myself. “Forget the word ‘shit.’ I mean…well, you get it.”
Dylan giggled, bouncing while holding onto my wrist. The tiniest judge, yet the most effective.
“Wait until you’re seventeen, and you’ll know.”
I shut the door and stayed right where I was until Dylan fell back asleep and the bridal party left.
Back in the living room, I sank into the worn leather couch, taking a sip of Valley Wolf, a beer that bent the alcohol law, but still found its way into fridges all over the county. Luckily, we hadn’t discovered it as teenagers. Might’ve fried what little brain cells we had left.
“It’s not as strong as Dad’s old moonshine,” Elia smirked over the rim of his bottle.
I huffed out a chuckle. Turned out, our brains had been screwed anyway.
“I remember.”
We carried on, drifting into memories of the old barn, Dad’s favorite, where we’d spent hours playing hide-and-seek, convinced it was haunted. The times we’d raced through the pastures, dead set on proving who was the better rider. Spoiler alert: It was always me.
“I still can’t believe you walked away after that fall near Widow’s Creek,” Elia said, shaking his head. “It should’ve broken your spine.”
I smirked. “Good thing I was made of steel back then.”
He snorted. “Steel? You screamed like a banshee when Tessa had to pull that thorn out of your leg.”
The air shifted.
And Elia knew. We both did. We always did when conversations turned to Tessa.
“Sorry,” he muttered.
His expression was careful, measured. I wasn’t sure if he’d said her name on purpose to push me toward a conversation, to get me to open up. Or if it had just slipped.
“Hey, it’s okay. She’s our sister. We’re bound to talk about her at some stage,” I said, convincing no one.
Because I hated talking about her.
Elia understood. But something in his face told me he wanted more than just to talk about her.
Not today. Maybe not ever.
I had survived by shutting that part of my life out. Blocking her out. And that guilt alone was enough to swallow me whole.
Silence settled between us, thick but familiar. We drank.
After another stretch of it, I set my bottle down. “Hey, I’m gonna drop by Log’s. Told him I was coming.”
“Of course.”
And that was it. I parted from him, carrying ghosts too heavy to name.
Logan Pierce had been Elia’s best friend first. Officially. But over the years, while Elia had played the role of cheeky big brother, Log had been the one I could actually talk to. I loved my brother, no question. But sometimes it was just…easier with Log.
No expectations. No burden.
His ranch was only a couple of miles out, so I walked it.
“Hey, Noah boy!” Log called, his grin laid-back as ever.
He had always played the big brother between the three of us, and even now that I’d grown up, I was still just a boy to him.
“Hey,” I said, pulling him into a quick hug.
He hadn’t aged a day. Meanwhile, I’d collected enough city stress lines a twenty-seven-year-old cowboy would never wear.
“You sticking around this time?” he asked.
“I am.”
“Not too rich to retire ranch-side?”
“I was too rich not to.”
“Now that’s a good start.” He thumped me lightly on the shoulder.
I looked past him, out toward the horizon. This side of Buffaloberry backed right into the Bitterroot Mountains, a range in the Rockies that felt a little bigger out here.
“How’s wedding prep going at The Lazy Moose?” he asked.
“Well enough,” I said.
“You going?”
“Hell no. I’m just the help.”
“No plus-one, so you’d rather stay in the shadows?” Log teased.
If only. That certain lady with the twisted-updo and a smile that could level a man? She wasn’t mine. Never had been. Her smile wasn’t even pointed my way.
And the kicker?
She was the one getting married.
But sure, let’s pretend she wasn’t still renting space in my head.
“My plus-one ran long before I left the city,” I said. “Told myself I’d make it work this time. But I never did.”
Log squinted. “This time, eh? Too many, or the same one for too long?”
“A little of both.”
He chuckled. “Pathetic.”
I sighed. “I know, Log. I know.”
He gave a small shake of his head. “Your brother’s over the moon you’re back. Officially, this time. He says he missed you.”
That, I didn’t need to be told.
The Lazy Moose turning into a wedding venue, the long days ahead…I didn’t mind the work. Never had. It was the talk that came after. That was the thorn I could never pull out.
Log’s expression mellowed, but he wore a weight that didn’t feel like his own.
“Why you lookin’ so worried?” I asked. “El and I are good. We’re fine, Log.”
“I know. But after all that time had passed, you called me first. Not him.” He lifted a brow. “That stung. He won’t say it, but it did.”
I remembered. Elia had reached out when he met Claire. I’d pretended it wasn’t my number and handed the phone to a buddy.
“I didn’t mean to hurt him,” I said quietly. “I just…wasn’t ready.”
“I get it,” Log said. “But you were here last Christmas. And for his wedding. And when Dylan was born.”
“Yeah.”
“But Noah, it’s more than just showing up.”
Pressure had a way of finding me, no matter where I went. But the worst part? Log wasn’t wrong.
“Things aren’t the same.” I sighed. “And they never will be.”
“Maybe.” Log shrugged. “But family’s family. And El? He wants the Lucases to be whole again. No baggage. You’re still his little brother, Noah. The only one he’s got.”
I stared at the ground.
Some things were too wrecked to fix.
I just nodded because it was easier than answering. Log saw right through it, but he let it go.
For now.