wire here somewhere.”
Nick drove the stake into the ground while Lucas retrieved a roll of wire. Both boys then turned to Ian.
Ian hesitated, then pulled out the wooden plaque he’d been holding under his arm. Lucas took it from him and attached it to the stake with three loops of wire. They all stood back.
THOMAS BLACKHAWK
BELOVED FATHER AND FRIEND
Lucas stared at his father’s name, then blinked back the threatening tears. He hadn’t cried when Mr. Hornsby, the director at the Home, had told him that his father had been killed in a prison riot one week ago, and he wouldn’t cry now. Thomas Blackhawk would want his only son to be strong.
And Lucas needed to be strong. Because somehow, someday, the wrong that had been done to him and his father must be answered for. And the man who would answer, the man who would one day pay for stealing the Blackhawk Circle B Ranch, was Mason Hadley, Wolf River’s wealthiest and most prominent citizen.
“Hey, I almost forgot.” Nick reached into the back pocket of his jeans. “I brought a candle. Snatched it from an emergency kit in the tool room.”
Matches followed and a moment later a plain white candle flared to life. Nick set the candle in front of the marker, and the three boys stood quietly, watching the flame rise.
Lucas was alone now. His mother had died two years earlier and there was no other family. Except for Ian and Nick. They were his family now. And he was theirs.
He reached for the heavy metal chain dangling from one of his belt loops, unclipped the pocketknife hanging there and opened it.
He said nothing, just spread his hand, palm up, then lightly dragged the knife over the inside of his knuckles. A thin line of blood rose. Ian took the knife next, did the same, then Nick.
Without a word, the three young men clasped hands over the flame.
A sudden wind whipped at their hair and circled their feet. Leaves scattered, and the flutter of wings sounded overhead. The flame of the candle never moved.
Eyes wide, they looked to the night sky. But there was nothing. Only the moon, as brilliant as it was round, shining down at them.
At that moment they all knew that no matter what, they would always be there for each other.
Always.
One
The town of Wolf River never expected to see the likes of Lucas Blackhawk again. Bad blood, that’s what everyone whispered, and half-Indian blood, at that. They all knew that the boy would never amount to anything. After all, hadn’t his daddy been a convict, and hadn’t Lucas himself spent almost two years at the Wolf River County Home for Boys? Not much good could come of that now, could it? Lucas Blackhawk had left Wolf River, Texas, more than ten years ago, and as far as the town was concerned, good riddance.
Lucas couldn’t wait to see the faces of the good folks in Wolf River when word spread that he was back. And word would spread, all right, Lucas thought with a slow grin. With all the intensity, and all the welcome, of a winter virus.
“May I help you, sir?”
The maid who’d answered the massive, polished oak door at the Double H Ranch estate was hardly more than a girl. Her mousy brown hair matched her nervous eyes, and her gray-and-white uniform hung loose on her rail-thin body. She didn’t know it yet, but she’d be seeking employment after today.
“I’m here to see Mr. Hadley.”
“Mr. Hadley went into town with his daughter, sir.” Even her voice was small, and Lucas had to lean forward to catch her words. “I’m afraid he won’t be back until three, and he has an appointment at three-thirty. I’ll be happy to take your name and number and have his secretary call you.”
Off to town with the dutiful daughter, was he? Lucas thought dryly. Julianna Hadley, with her pale blond hair and smoke-blue eyes. The untouchable Ice Princess, especially to a half-breed hoodlum like himself. He still remembered the last time he saw her. He’d been twenty-two, working at Hansen’s Feed and Grain. He’d caught her watching him while he’d been loading bales of hay on a truck. She’d turned quickly away, but not before he’d seen the look in her beautiful eyes.
Pity.
He’d quit his job an hour later, packed his meager bag and left Wolf River, carrying that look with him for ten years. It fed his anger, his determination, when he was tired or wanted to give up.
She didn’t know it, but Julianna Hadley had been his inspiration.
Lucas removed his sunglasses and tucked them into the jacket pocket of his Armani suit, then tipped back his black Stetson to give the maid a full view of his eyes. Wolf eyes, as one of his female companions had commented once. Eyes the color of a moonless night. He’d used those eyes to his advantage more than once. To intimidate or to seduce. Or in this case, with the timid young woman, to charm.
Lucas Blackhawk was a man who knew how to get what he wanted.
He smiled at the maid. “Actually, Miss...” He drew the word out, waiting for her to fill in the blank.
“Grayson.” Her cheeks colored. “Heather Grayson.”
“Heather.” He repeated her name with just the right dash of intimacy to make her entire face flush. “Actually, Heather, I am Mr. Hadley’s three-thirty.”
“Oh, dear.” Frowning, Heather bit her bottom lip. “I’m sorry, sir. I was expecting a Mr. Cantrell. He was here last week and I just assumed—”
“Mr. Cantrell was called out of town at the last minute.” Lucas had given his top CEO a trip to the Bahamas as a bonus for a job well done. A job very well done.
“I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.” He handed her a business card for First Mutual Financial, one of Blackhawk Enterprises many subsidiaries. Lucas’s name was intentionally absent from the card.
The maid stared at the card, then back at him. Lucas turned up the smile, and the woman’s blush deepened. Flustered, she stuck the card into her pocket and stepped aside. “I’m sorry, sir. Please, come into Mr. Hadley’s office and make yourself comfortable. He shouldn’t be too much longer.”
Lucas had only been in the Hadley mansion once before. He hadn’t been welcome then, either. But his mission had been the same: revenge. He’d only been twelve at the time. Angry, out for blood, furiously waving a knife. Impulsive, with no plan.
It had taken him twenty years, but he’d learned to control his anger. He was no longer impulsive, and this time he definitely had a plan.
Everything about the house was as he’d remembered it. The hunter-green marble floor, the sweeping walnut staircase and high, paneled walls, the gaudy antique entry table and oversize gilded mirror above it. Dark. As cold and as lifeless as a corpse.
There were ghosts here, Lucas knew. He felt them shiver up his spine. They needed to be put to rest.
“This way, sir.”
He could have told the maid that he knew the way to her employer’s office. That he’d been there before, that he’d tried to kill the man in that very room. He wondered if that would distress the young woman. Knowing how Hadley treated his servants, hell, how he treated everyone, the woman would probably be grateful.
It was when he stepped into Mason’s office, when he saw his portrait over the large oak desk, that he felt it. The rage he’d struggled with all these years. It poured through him, threatened to explode, but he forced it back down, corralled it deep inside of him and stepped away from it.
“Are you all right, Mr.—” She hesitated, realized she hadn’t asked his name.
“I’m fine, Heather.” Lucas had no intention of giving her his name. He wanted to see the surprise on Hadley’s face, the shock, when he recognized his visitor.