When Calls the Dream

All About Lucas

CARSON REMOVED THE STICHES THIS MORNING, and I am feeling almost normal again. When I ended up in a television series, I never imagined I would be helping Lee and Rosemary clean out their storage shed. My hair is tied up in a bandana, and I am wearing a work dress Rosemary sewed for me. I am discovering how practical these clothes actually are for every day movement; they are comfortable too. While Lee is fiddling with the mechanics of an old bicycle, I organize tools on the wall, designate empty flowerpots for holding bags of seed, and puncture my finger with a fishing hook. A fond memory melts my heart as I stare at a reel of fishing line. It isn't modern-looking, but it is perfect all the same. Out of the three poles cuddling in the corner, one with a sleek finish catches my eye. This must be Lee's favorite. A sound of footsteps promts my body to twitch.

"You like fishing?" Lee's Fists are on his waist.

"Something like that...my dad used to take me out to a certain dock before sunrise on the weekend; he always joked that Saturdays were named after a man who finally came to his senses and sat down." Placing the pole back in the corner, my lips tremble, and my throat aches from effort to hold tears back.

"He used to?"

"Yes," I respond, "he used to." With that, I glance at my feet and resume organizing the shiny nails from the rusted nails.

"Well, you're welcome to come with me sometime. Rosmary doesn't like fishing, so I'm a little out of practice." We both laugh and are interrupted by Rosemary requesting my help with dinner. Good thing I can cook better than I sew.

The aroma of pan-fried steak is too much. I cannot stop the drool from my mouth while slicing the potatoes, coating them with oil, salt, and dill weed. This should be enough seasoning. The oven will do the rest as the edges crisp and brown. There is a knock at the door, and I stop Rosemary as she looks up from the stove.

"I'll get it."

"Thanks, Nyrah." I wave dismissively at Rosemary, then begin untying my apron. It's Lucas. He looks surprised to see me.

"I'm staying with the Coulter's until I can get properly settled somewhere," I answer before he can ask, "I would actually like to talk to you about something later, if that's ok." My statement comes out in a whisper.

"Perfectly," he leans forward as if divulging a secret, "I'm only here because Lee said that Rosary had some books for donation to the new-"

"-library," I interrupt. Somehow, it seems too painful to allow him to finish that sentence. "I wish I had some books to donate as well, but I didn't bring much to Hope Valley." Footsteps sound behind me and I turn to Lee.

"Hey, thanks so much for stopping by." His gaze shifts toward me for a second before making an offer to the saloon owner. "Please, would you stay for supper? I hear it is almost ready from the gals." My skin drains of color. Lee knows something. I can see it in his demeanor, or perhaps I am imagining it. It's not like I can forbid my host not to invite Lucas, my massive crush, into their home.

Lucas Bouchard decides to join us at the dinner table, and compliments both Rosemary and I on the delicious food. Somehow, after Lee and Lucas discuss politics, the two of us end up looking at the couple's wedding photos after supper. I asked to help with the dishes, but Rosemary and Lee declined my offer.

"Which one is your favorite?" Lucas flips through different pages. Several moments pass as I scan through the options, but only one catches my eye. The bride and groom in the middle, with Elizabeth and Jack on either side of them. Four best friends I wish I could see together again in more than still pictures. I point to that one.