Chapter 19
Rock Creek, Nebraska
June 1872
Lara held up a grey shirt, examining it closely before presenting it to Buck. "What do you think about this one?"
Buck glanced at the shirt and offered a nonchalant response, "It's nice."
Lara sighed, a hint of frustration in her voice. "You've said that about every single one I've shown you."
"Why don't you pick the one you like?" Buck leaned forward, planting a quick kiss on her cheek. "I'm going to take your locket to the jeweler."
"Alright." Lara squeezed his hand before returning her attention to the task of selecting a new shirt for him. She insisted on finding him a replacement since she had inadvertently ruined one of his shirts the night, she fell off the horse. Despite her efforts to scrub out the blood stains, they stubbornly refused to relent.
After paying for the shirts Lara paused just outside the store when she her reflection in the window. She smoothed her skirt and smiled at her reflection. She saw a woman who had weathered storms and emerged stronger, yet there was a weariness etched on her face.
Feeling a renewed sense of determination, Lara remembered her promise to Joaquin. This was the end. Whether they found David or not, she couldn't sustain this lifestyle any longer. She longed for stability, for her family, and for Buck. She would be a fool to let herself sabotage her own happiness.
Happiness enveloped her like a comforting blanket, she smiled at her reflection and tucked an errant lock behind her ear. Little did she know that the tranquility she recently found would be replaced by the life she had been accustomed to. Her life long companions, loneliness and fear were only moments away.
"Laralie?"
Quickly, she turned around, endeavoring to compose herself. Her heart raced, confronted with her nightmare in physical form: her father, whom she never thought she would see again. Behind a facade of calmness and love, she attempted to mask her inner fear and hatred, grappling with the anger and questions that burned for more than decade swirling within her.
"Laralie!" Captain Monroe enveloped her in a tight embrace. It had been twelve years since he had laid eyes on his only child. As he held her, he now looked at her in a new light. He had been blinded by rage, never realizing what he had lost by pursuing his crusade of vengeance.
"Daddy?" Lara recoiled internally at his touch. Yet, her long-practiced ability to compartmentalize remained steadfast, her hatred simmering through her veins, the same blood that coursed through his own.
"Let me look at you, girl," he said, stepping back and holding her shoulders as if she were a child.
He examined her from head to toe, struck by how much she resembled her mother. The thought of her ignited a fire of anger within him, but he quickly suppressed it, reminding himself that Laralie was not her mother and she wasn't tainted by that woman's sins.
Lara remained motionless, like an animal ensnared in a hunter's trap. Uncertainty gripped her as she pondered the unfolding encounter. She studied his face intently, noting the deep lines that marked the passage of time. Despite the years, it was still the same face that had haunted her dreams. Had he murdered her mother? Her aunt's death was an accident, but what of David's family. Had he burned their homes out?
"What are you doing here?" His reverie abruptly shattered, and suspicion clouded his gaze. "Surely your Uncle had been taking care of the farm, and you."
"Uncle Jack passed a few years ago." She paused, gathering her thoughts, as she swallowed hard, hoping to maintain her facade.
She hadn't any rehearsed lies at her disposal, she hadn't ever intended on seeing her father again and was not prepared for this confrontation. She prayed silently that her words would ring true, concealing the tangled web of questions churning within her.
Lucas Monroe's curiosity was piqued, a flicker of interest lighting up his eyes, though a shadow of skepticism lingered. He hadn't considered his daughter in many years, and yet here she stood before him, an unexpected presence in his world. In that fleeting moment, a fragment of doubt gnawed at him.
What if Marcela never betrayed him. What if he could have found forgiveness for her? How might their lives have unfolded differently? But as quickly as the thought surfaced, the bitterness returned, flooding his heart with the old wounds of unfaithfulness. Her mother had deceived him, had betrayed them both, and the resentment simmered beneath the surface.
"Father, I was a child then. I know now you were right," Lara continued, her words carefully chosen. She hugged him tightly, hoping to convey sincerity.
"How so?" Captain Monroe's interest was piqued, his curiosity demanding answers.
"About Mother," Lara repeated, her voice steady as she held his gaze. "And him." She tried to show the distain in her voice when she mentioned her brother. "I was hoping to find you and convince you to come home with me."
Captain Monroe's expression softened, a hint of pride gleaming in his eyes. "Ah, that's my girl!" he exclaimed, a glimmer of paternal affection breaking through the facade of his hardened exterior.