Chapter Six
L ucas watched as Brade leaned over and patted the neck of the big black gelding he was getting acquainted with. Dr. Brade Oliver. His brother. The words bounced apart in his mind, like two magnets repelling each other. He had a brother. Named Brade Oliver.
The air was sweet and warm, fragrant with the scent of vegetation crushed beneath horses’ hooves. Low scrubby bushes pocked the rocky land and the trail sloped gently downward, to where he could hear the distant rush of water.
“Have you met Sawyer?” Brade asked. “He’s the manager at Belle Vista. Very knowledgeable. Bayleigh was lucky to get him.”
“I have,” Lucas said. “I imagine he’s also lucky. Seems like a great place.”
“A good match, then.” Brade shot him a look. “He knows his horseflesh. Geronimo’s living proof of that.”
The animal was sixteen hands tall, with sleek, powerful lines and a thoughtful disposition. Lucas was on a mare named Marty who liked to bite but was otherwise a decent mount. Leila brought up the rear, on Brade’s fiancée’s horse, a mare named Tilly who was pals with Marty.
“How many have you got?” Brade asked.
“Four,” Lucas replied. “Stella’s my lead, a ten-year-old quarter horse, tough as nails but gentle, too. She keeps everyone in line. A couple of solid geldings and a sweet little paint mare. I have a few others I can bring in, too. Some clients bring their own. My crew all have their own horses.”
Brade asked a few other questions about the business and between his interest, the animal beneath him and the fresh air around him, Lucas’s mood lightened.
“I was hoping Diana would join us today,” Leila said, bring up the rear. “But she’s so busy, with the kids and all.”
“No doubt,” Lucas said.
Or maybe she’d heard about Landry Adventures ruining Tanya Schneider’s life and decided that two half-siblings were enough.
Lucas nudged his mare up closer to Brade’s horse. “You planning to build here?” He hoped not. This bit of rough beauty ought to stay wild. He could imagine guiding a group out here for a week or two. His team would love it.
His former team.
“Haven’t thought that far yet. I bought the land as a way of reconnecting with my childhood,” Brade said. “Kendall advised against it, despite the enormous commission she stood to make. I think that was when I first fell in love with her.”
Kendall McKinley, Lucas had learned, was Grand’s top real estate agent, or had been before she hooked up with Brade. Must be nice to have enough money that you could buy a chunk of scrub land just to impress a girl.
What did Lucas have to offer anyone? He had great parents. Not everyone could say that. He’d done well enough for himself, financially. He charged top dollar for his excursions and it turned out that he had a knack for investing, too, so everything he saved turned into more money.
Unless the Schneider family got their way.
What would Bayleigh Sutherland think of this sword of Damocles that hung over his future? If he lost everything, what then? He got exhausted, thinking about starting over.
“It’s beautiful land,” he said. “But don’t you miss home?”
“Home?” Brade said, turning in the saddle to look at Lucas. “Home is where Kendall is. And that’s here.”
He said it so simply. But then again, as he’d explained to Lucas earlier, his parents had both passed away. He had no other family. He was able to practice medicine here in Grand. Finding a woman he loved had made it a simple decision.
Must be nice, indeed.
Leila’s husband, he’d also learned, was a recent transplant to Grand, although he’d lived here before, when he and Leila had first met in high school. Theirs was a reunion romance and while he was sure there had to be more to the story, they looked like they’d been together forever, made to fit.
He’d never met anyone who made him feel that way.
“You’re most comfortable in the saddle, aren’t you?” Brade asked.
Lucas looked up. “I’ve been riding for years if that’s what you mean. I was leading trail rides when I was a punk teenager.”
“I meant,” Brade amended, “that it’s good for your leg. The movement. The position. The warmth. I don’t have any specific knowledge about cerebral palsy but I understand that horseback riding can be especially helpful if the muscle contractures are localized in the lower back and hip region.”
The casual mention startled him. He wasn’t used to discussing his condition so openly. First Bayleigh, now Brade. He understood Bayleigh; she was a therapist. Her center specialized in offering therapy to people with conditions like his.
Maybe, as a physician, Brade had less discomfort with disabilities than the average person.
“How do you know it’s cerebral palsy?” There were many reasons a person might have mobility issues like his. His symptoms weren’t severe. “Did you read that about me, too?”
The nastier posters hadn’t used the correct words, but they’d certainly gotten the message across that Lucas was less than a whole man.
“How about brilliant deductive reasoning?” Brade said. “Multiple births increase the likelihood of congenital defects, usually because the infants are born prematurely. I was somewhat amazed, when I learned that Leila and I were twins, that neither of us had anything much worse than bad eyesight. I assumed we’d been born close to full-term. But the risk to triplets rises exponentially. Three infants born too early, to grow up with nothing more than lactose intolerance and myopia?” He shook his head. “Unlikely. The first time I saw you I guessed cerebral palsy, probably from an antenatal brain injury. Supporting evidence includes the fact that your cane has plenty of wear on it. You’ve got compensatory angulation in the line of your neck, suggesting a longstanding condition and probably chronic pain from the adaptations required to remain mobile.” He turned and grinned at Lucas. “How’d I do?”
“I’m impressed,” Lucas admitted.
Geronimo headed toward a flat spot on the bank of the river where he could get a drink. Lucas followed, focusing on guiding his mount over a particularly rocky area. An eagle floated high above them and scraggly trees reached their rough branches up as if beckoning it. The sound of the water soothed his spirits. It was interesting that he and Brade both found refuge in wild spaces. A brother thing? Leila enjoyed it too, but not to the same extent as they did.
“For what it’s worth,” Leila called from behind them, “I guessed scoliosis, but this makes more sense. I thought everyone with CP had to use a wheelchair. I think it’s pretty amazing that the three of us are basically normal and healthy. I mean, Brade can’t eat ice cream unless there’s a bathroom nearby—”
“Hey!” he complained.
“And I’m saving up for eye surgery so I can ditch my contacts,” she went on. “You have a limp. We’re incredibly lucky, don’t you think?”
Lucas wasn’t used to being called normal and healthy. If he wasn’t the gimp with the limp or the cowboy with the cane, he was the miracle maverick, the guy who overcame the odds and found a way to bring his dream to life. So inspiring! So brave!
Gack.
Leila’s perspective was a nice surprise.
“My parents put me in riding lessons when I was four,” he said. “It was probably the single best thing they could have done. My mom made sure I had the best possible chance of living a normal life. She might regret it now, though.”
If he hadn’t started riding, he’d never have got into the business of leading wilderness tours. He might not be in the situation he was in, on the brink of losing everything. If he’d turned his skills to something sedentary, something that could be done from a wheelchair, perhaps, he might be in a much safer situation.
“Why would she regret that?” Leila asked.
Oops.
“I mean,” he backpedaled, “she could have pushed me toward something that would take me toward a safer career. Like accounting. Or data processing.”
“What?” Leila sounded confused.
“I think, Leila,” Brade said, “our brother is saying that if he hadn’t gotten into horseback riding, he might not have built Landry Adventures into one of the most sought-after backcountry excursion companies in Colorado.”
The words fell like boulders around Lucas.
“You know about that, then?” he said, eventually.
Brade turned again. “Come on, man. You researched us before you came out. You must have known we’d do the same.”
“Want to enlighten me?” Leila said. “I’ve had a lot of other things on my mind. I figured I’d start ignoring you early, brother. But now I’m curious.”
They’d reached the river and she slid off her horse, landing on her feet with a light thump. She walked to where she could face them both and stood there, fists on her hips.
Lucas elected to stay on Marty. Transitions were always the worst, even though the riding today was most welcome and would do him a world of good in the long run.
“Our brother ,” Brade said, emphasizing the word, “is concerned that we’ve heard—and believe—certain stories about him. He’s something of a media darling at the moment.”
“Darling might be stretching it,” Lucas muttered.
“You want to tell her, or should I?” Brade said.
He sounded mad.
“What’s your problem, man?” Lucas kicked his foot out of the left stirrup, lifted his right leg over the saddle, and slid to the ground. It wasn’t a pretty dismount, but he had to do what worked for him. It always took a minute or two for his circulation to adjust to standing again, and he leaned against the horse while his nerves and muscles clamored.
“My problem,” Brade said, “is that you’re putting off some conflicted vibes. Is it just your professional problems? Because it feels like maybe you wish we hadn’t found you.”
“ Just my professional problems? I’ve lost my business and my reputation,” Lucas said. “Sorry if I’m a little distracted.”
“Everyone’s lost stuff,” Brade returned. “If you don’t believe that, then you’re not paying attention.”
“Someone want to enlighten me?” Leila asked. “Surely it can’t be that bad.”
Lucas sighed. “I have an angry family coming after me because their daughter thought she could go out into the bush without her medication, that she could overcome her epilepsy because she was with me, her hero, the great Lucas Landry, who overcame his condition, so why couldn’t she? She had a seizure, fell off her horse, broke her back, and now she’s in a wheelchair.”
“Oh, Lucas,” Leila said. “I’m so sorry. I’m sure you did everything you could.”
“Doesn’t matter.” Lucas shook his head, pushing back the images of that day. “I stand to lose everything to her family, or, more accurately, to the lawyers. Maybe I deserve it. Maybe I could have done more to prevent it. Maybe I was so busy proving what people like me can do that I didn’t do my best for my client.” He paused. “Maybe I asked for it.”
He stopped, breathing hard. The soothing susurration of the river played a through line punctuated by the call of a chipping sparrow and the far-off drilling of a downy woodpecker. Rocks and sagebrush and thistle and sky.
How had he ended up here?
“Well,” Leila said, “DNA aside, if there was ever any doubt about you being our brother, I think you just took care of that.”
Brade gave a low chuckle.
Lucas lifted his eyes warily. He’d just spilled his guts and they were, what, laughing at him?
“Drama,” Brade said. “We’re all prone to it.”
“Drama?” Lucas repeated in disbelief. “You think I’m...”
He couldn’t finish his sentence. A young woman would never walk again because of him. Maybe not directly, but if he hadn’t been who he was, an ambassador for accessibility, maybe he wouldn’t be where he was right now.
“For fuck’s sake,” he muttered.
“There it is,” Leila said. She came over beside him, staying clear of Marty’s biting zone. She held out her hand. “Come here, you big dolt. Give your sister a hug. We’re on your side. Now that you’ve admitted your big secret, why don’t we start brainstorming together to fix this, huh?”
They sat on the edge of the river, letting the horses rest in the shade. Lucas stretched his bad leg out in front of him, feeling better than he had for days, physically, at least. The time on horseback had helped ease the travel tightness.
Mentally, he was exhausted. These people were his siblings, but in their attempt to become acquainted, the three of them were leaping over the normal steps of social intimacy, crashing through boundaries that didn’t exist when people grew up together, and usually took years of repeated exposure to get past.
He wanted to get back to Belle Vista, maybe take a walk around the property. Maybe spend some time with Bayleigh.
“So, wait,” Leila said, frowning. “You thought Brade and I would judge you?”
“You have to understand,” he said, “the girl who got hurt has a big family and a lot of friends. They started a social media smear campaign. I had people coming out of the woodwork everywhere. On all our platforms, of course, but phone calls too. Text messages. Emails. A few people even wrote actual letters, accusing me of—” he shook his head “—all sorts of made-up garbage.”
Misfit maverick.
He should have gotten out of town earlier. He didn’t have office space, per se, and he was hardly ever at his condo anyway. His horses were safe at the ranch where he boarded them, and his crew was scattered, most of them with various other day jobs.
Brade tossed a stone into the river. “And you figured someone upped their game? Created a whole fiction around your past just to create some kind of nasty backstory? How would this help the family’s cause? Being adopted isn’t something to be ashamed of. There’s no story here.”
Lucas couldn’t explain the insidious erosion of trust that occurred once he’d discovered that there were people out in the world who hated him and wanted the worst for him. He stopped being a person to them. The facts ceased to matter. The haters only believed what they wanted to believe because it fueled their outrage and made them feel like they were on the side of the underdog.
“I haven’t handled any of this very well,” he admitted. “But when ten people reach out and eight of them come with a body blow, you tend to expect the same from the other two. I learned to put up my guard and keep it up.”
“And now?” Leila said. “Do you trust us?”
“I want to,” he said and found with surprise that it was the truth. “We’re triplets, that’s a fact. So, I’m trying, okay? Now, can we talk about something else?”
He wished he could set this part of his life aside, that it would resolve itself while he was out there in the brilliant sunshine, surrounded by wild, wide-open scrubland and the smell of horses.
He turned to Brade. “I can’t believe this is all yours.”
Brade tossed another rock toward the river. “Yeah. I should probably run some livestock on it. It won’t support much, but it’d give me a reason to come out.”
“Do you need one?” Lucas said. “I’d be out here every day, all day, if it was mine.” The pasture, if you could call it that, was mostly sagebrush and thistles. It was a place where a man could ride and think and breathe. Who cared about the rest?
Brade looked over at him. “This would be a great location for a camping trip.”
“Sure would.” Lucas smiled, then sobered at Brade’s expression. “You camp?”
“I do, but that’s not what I’m talking about. I’d be happy to let you use the land for Landry Adventures.”
“Whoo-hoo!” Leila stuck one fist in the air. “Sawyer said the same thing about Belle Vista. Who cares about a lawsuit in Colorado? You can start over here, in Montana!”
Lucas managed a smile. “Thanks. I’ll think about it.”
If only. They clearly didn’t understand how determined the Schneiders were. Landry Adventures was dead. There was no starting over, not now, maybe not ever.