Read Online Her Heart's Desire (Sunflower Series Book 1) by Linda Joyce - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Linda Joyce
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resignation ripped his heart like an axe slamming
into a tree. She used to smile freely, radiate with a joy
contagious to all around her. When would a full smile replace her
weak one?
When it was Lucas’s turn to speak, he looked
around at the people gathered in the circle. “They were second
parents to me. Treated me like a son. Mrs. Britton sent me packages
when I was in Afghanistan. Their passing has left empty spaces in
my life. However, they would expect all of us to soldier on with
chins up and shoulders back.”
Everyone nodded.
“Mrs. Britton taught me to dance,” Megan
said. “You know, the tango and the box-step.” She demonstrated the
dance steps, swaying her hips. “Through her, I found confidence to
be myself.”
“She brought her New Orleans joie de
vivre to the plains,” Helen said. “It took us a while to
understand the southern in her. She was sweet like bread pudding
and spicy like gumbo. Craig and Amelia”—Helen pointed across the
circle at them—“your mother loved your father so much she moved up
here to live her life. Your parents were role models for our
community.”
“Thank you, Helen, for your kind words.”
Craig replied. He understood better what his mother had given up to
love and marry his father. She devoted her life to all of them, but
she always remained a bit of a fish out of water in Kansas...same
for him. As much as he loved his childhood memories, his sister,
and his friends, St. Louis was more exciting than Harvest, Kansas
had ever been. Farming would be last on the list of jobs he ever
wanted. His father never understood that about him, but his mother
had.
After all the guests had spoken, his sister
took a half step forward into the circle. “Thank you for coming
today. It means a lot to me to keep the memory of my parents alive.
For as long as I’m able to stay on the farm”—Amelia glanced over
her shoulder at him—“I will host a Twelfth Night celebration every
year. Mother had her quirky ways, but I wouldn’t trade her for
another. Dad understood me best, though I’m not sure why. He always
encouraged my painting. I hope to make my parents proud and put
Harvest on the map someday. Thank you again for sharing this circle
with Craig and me today.”
Murmurs of agreement drifted around the ring
as Amelia stepped back.
Craig walked into the middle of the circle
and stood between the headstones of his parents. “I’m grateful you
came,” he told the group. “It’s nice to see familiar faces. I
appreciate your support, be it from respect for our parents or
support of us. Thanks for looking after my sister—even if she’s
stubborn like a mule’s backside.” Everyone but Amelia chuckled in
response. “You know how much my father loved barbecue. His trophies
remain on the shelves in the sunroom. Mother refused to display
them on the mantle. So, let’s go celebrate life. As Dad always
said, ‘The secret to good barbecue is sauce—it covers up all
mistakes.’ We’re serving ’cue—pig and cow—and we’ll wash it down
with brew.”
A little while later at the house, a convoy
of vehicles parked on the lawn and along the lane leading from the
dirt road to the driveway. Craig tapped the beer keg on the back
deck with Lucas’s help while Megan and Amelia placed bowls of
potato salad and baked beans on the table.
“Amelia!” Craig hollered. “I’m ready for the
burgers.” Craig adjusted his father’s black pitmaster apron with Boss of the Sauce in large red print on the front. His
father had won it as a trophy at the American Royal BBQ five years
earlier. Craig’s mouth watered from the aromas drifting from the
smoker. Beef and pork ribs. Long and slow.
The late afternoon breezes blew in a few
lofty clouds. The sun played peek-a-boo, and streaks of light shone
like spotlights on the surrounding sunflower fields. The back deck
and yard buzzed with chatter, everyone sharing humorous stories and
loving memories. His parents would be pleased by
into a tree. She used to smile freely, radiate with a joy
contagious to all around her. When would a full smile replace her
weak one?
When it was Lucas’s turn to speak, he looked
around at the people gathered in the circle. “They were second
parents to me. Treated me like a son. Mrs. Britton sent me packages
when I was in Afghanistan. Their passing has left empty spaces in
my life. However, they would expect all of us to soldier on with
chins up and shoulders back.”
Everyone nodded.
“Mrs. Britton taught me to dance,” Megan
said. “You know, the tango and the box-step.” She demonstrated the
dance steps, swaying her hips. “Through her, I found confidence to
be myself.”
“She brought her New Orleans joie de
vivre to the plains,” Helen said. “It took us a while to
understand the southern in her. She was sweet like bread pudding
and spicy like gumbo. Craig and Amelia”—Helen pointed across the
circle at them—“your mother loved your father so much she moved up
here to live her life. Your parents were role models for our
community.”
“Thank you, Helen, for your kind words.”
Craig replied. He understood better what his mother had given up to
love and marry his father. She devoted her life to all of them, but
she always remained a bit of a fish out of water in Kansas...same
for him. As much as he loved his childhood memories, his sister,
and his friends, St. Louis was more exciting than Harvest, Kansas
had ever been. Farming would be last on the list of jobs he ever
wanted. His father never understood that about him, but his mother
had.
After all the guests had spoken, his sister
took a half step forward into the circle. “Thank you for coming
today. It means a lot to me to keep the memory of my parents alive.
For as long as I’m able to stay on the farm”—Amelia glanced over
her shoulder at him—“I will host a Twelfth Night celebration every
year. Mother had her quirky ways, but I wouldn’t trade her for
another. Dad understood me best, though I’m not sure why. He always
encouraged my painting. I hope to make my parents proud and put
Harvest on the map someday. Thank you again for sharing this circle
with Craig and me today.”
Murmurs of agreement drifted around the ring
as Amelia stepped back.
Craig walked into the middle of the circle
and stood between the headstones of his parents. “I’m grateful you
came,” he told the group. “It’s nice to see familiar faces. I
appreciate your support, be it from respect for our parents or
support of us. Thanks for looking after my sister—even if she’s
stubborn like a mule’s backside.” Everyone but Amelia chuckled in
response. “You know how much my father loved barbecue. His trophies
remain on the shelves in the sunroom. Mother refused to display
them on the mantle. So, let’s go celebrate life. As Dad always
said, ‘The secret to good barbecue is sauce—it covers up all
mistakes.’ We’re serving ’cue—pig and cow—and we’ll wash it down
with brew.”
A little while later at the house, a convoy
of vehicles parked on the lawn and along the lane leading from the
dirt road to the driveway. Craig tapped the beer keg on the back
deck with Lucas’s help while Megan and Amelia placed bowls of
potato salad and baked beans on the table.
“Amelia!” Craig hollered. “I’m ready for the
burgers.” Craig adjusted his father’s black pitmaster apron with Boss of the Sauce in large red print on the front. His
father had won it as a trophy at the American Royal BBQ five years
earlier. Craig’s mouth watered from the aromas drifting from the
smoker. Beef and pork ribs. Long and slow.
The late afternoon breezes blew in a few
lofty clouds. The sun played peek-a-boo, and streaks of light shone
like spotlights on the surrounding sunflower fields. The back deck
and yard buzzed with chatter, everyone sharing humorous stories and
loving memories. His parents would be pleased by
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