Hazel Island 2: My Heart to Keep

Luke Wright loved the woods. He’d been lucky, growing up near woods he could wander around in to his heart’s content. He’d only gotten lost once; after that, he’d always been careful about staying on the trails. He knew the trails near his parents’ place like the back of his hand.

So when he heard a voice up ahead, he paused. This particular trail was on private property. Some of the trails were open to residents of Hazel Island, but not this one. It ran only a quarter mile from the Wright mansion, a meandering trail that was relatively flat.

Sometimes people who didn’t know this trail was on private property wandered onto it. Although there were signs, people sometimes didn’t heed them. Or didn’t see them. Most people apologized and left without causing a ruckus.

When Luke realized the intruder was none other than his ultimate nemesis, he knew a ruckus was about to start.

Jocelyn Gray—nothing about her was gray or muted. She was made of bright colors: red, like her temper, and the sharp side of her tongue that could make the thickest of hides bleed.

Yellow, like her golden hair that Luke already knew was silky soft. Blue, like her eyes and the heart of a flame.

Jocelyn was staring at her phone. When she heard Luke approach, her head whipped up. Then her eyes narrowed.

“Seriously?” was all she said before sighing loudly.

“Most people say the word ‘hello.’ Or ‘hi.’ I heard those are both acceptable greetings in the English language,” he replied.

Jocelyn scoffed. “I have plenty of greetings I’d like to give you.”

She was dressed for hiking, at least, so this trip wasn’t impulsive. She had a water bottle, now three-quarters full. She was a little red-faced, but that might’ve just been because she was near Luke.

Luke was used to Jocelyn’s antagonism aimed solely at him. She’d had her claws out, ready to scoop out his heart, since they’d been teenagers. And he couldn’t exactly say that her reaction was unwarranted, either.

Luke stepped close enough that he could see a blush darkening on her cheeks. She pushed a few strands of hair from her forehead.

“Are you lost?” he said.

“No.”

“Are you sure? You seem a little frustrated.”

That made her snort. “I’m always frustrated.”

“Fair point.”

While Jocelyn continued to do whatever it was she was doing on her phone, he took in her appearance. She looked tired: the circles under her eyes were darker than usual. She also looked a bit thinner. Considering she was a chef, it was hard to imagine she wasn’t getting enough to eat.

Her sharp gaze landed straight on his face. “Are you staring at me?”

“Yes. Does it bother you?”

“Obviously.” Then she asked, “So? Have you figured me out yet?”

“No, but you do look tired.”

He probably would’ve been better off telling her that she had nice tits than saying something that pointed out any vulnerability. She scowled darkly up at him.

“People who have to work for a living get tired,” she snapped. She stuffed her phone into her pocket. “But you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

That smarted. Luke might come from a rich family, but he wasn’t rich. He had to work, too. Maybe it wasn’t a grueling, twelve-hour-shift kind of job that Jocelyn was used to, but he was hardly lazy.

“You know what they say about making assumptions,” he said. “They’re usually wrong. You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Jocelyn just shrugged a shoulder. “Yet I’m sure you’ll be fine regardless. Rich boys usually are.”

As she began to walk in the direction of the Wright house, Luke considered telling her that she was on the wrong trail. But pettiness won that battle. He smiled, his teeth flashing, as he watched her firm backside flex ahead of him.

He started walking a few paces behind her. After about three minutes, she said over her shoulder, “Are you stalking me?”

“We’re just going in the same direction, that’s all.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. Then she shrugged and kept walking.

They were silent the rest of the way. When Jocelyn tripped on a rock, though, Luke shot forward to catch her. But she batted his hands away. “I’m fine,” she said.

The trees thinned out as they got closer to the house. Jocelyn slowed a little, allowing Luke to catch up. “This isn’t right,” she said.

Luke said nothing. But as they got closer, the gates of the Wright house now in view, he could see Jocelyn’s color rise in her face with every step.

He had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. He knew if he made a sound, she’d go for his jugular. It’d probably be worth it, though. It wasn’t too often he’d seen Jocelyn out of sorts like this.

She stopped walking a few yards from the gate. She began to fiddle with her phone as Luke waited. He’d wait all day and night if he had to.

Finally, Jocelyn put her phone away. Then she said in a tight voice, “Can you give me a ride to my car?”

When Luke stopped the car to let Jocelyn out, he locked the passenger door with the child lock mechanism before she could escape.

“Don’t you have something to say to me?” he said sweetly.

If looks could kill, hers would have. Her expression just made Luke’s grin grow wider.

“I guess I was lost after all,” she muttered.

“No, not that.”

Jocelyn was practically shaking. “You son of a bitch—”

“Come on, Gray. It’s two words.”

She looked like she might burst into flames. Or punch an elbow through his car window. Nothing would surprise him with Jocelyn Gray.

Then, to his surprise, she laughed. Laughed! The sound startled him because he’d so rarely heard it in his presence.

She shook her head, smiling wryly. “Thank you. You have saved me from an uncertain fate, kind sir.”

He bowed. “You’re welcome, my lady.”

She snorted, got into the car, and was soon out of sight.

As Luke watched his parents out of the corner of his eye, he had to restrain a smile. Not because he was happy, exactly. There wasn’t much to be happy about, considering this was the reading of his grandmother’s will. He missed Granny Esther terribly.

But to see his dad squirming in his seat, when Gregory Wright had never squirmed in his entire life, was certainly memorable.

His mom, Juliet, stroked her latest Pomeranian. Luke couldn’t remember its name. Its tongue was hanging out, and it looked like it had a grand total of three brain cells to rub together. This morning, Luke had watched the fluffy idiot bark madly at one of the fountains outside.

Granny’s lawyer, Mr. Hitchens, was shuffling papers, muttering under his breath as he tried to get himself organized. Luke had a feeling the man was just stalling for time.

Hitchens cleared his throat. “Okay, yes, here we go.” He cleared his throat a second time. “Mrs. Walter Wright changed her will six months prior to her death. These are the changes included herein.”

Luke sat forward in his seat. So did his parents. Even the dog seemed to perk up its ears in anticipation.

“‘All of my assets and money shall go to my grandson, Luke Gregory Wright. To my grandson Tristan Julian Wright, he shall inherit the remaining ten percent of Mrs. Walter Wright’s money. My son, Gregory Kenneth Wright, and his wife, Juliet Rebecca Wright née Havens, shall receive nothing.’”

Luke had never understood the phrase “so silent you could hear a pin drop,” but in that moment, it applied. It was as if a blanket of silence had covered the entire room. His heart was pounding so loudly, though, he was half-certain everyone could hear it.

Luke also stood up. He caught the dog before Gregory could kick it into the next galaxy. Gregory had never been cruel to his wife’s pets, but this wasn’t a usual moment. Luke stroked the dog until its barks turned into soft whimpers.

“Hitchens, can we see the will ourselves?” said Luke. He needed to see the paper it was written on, feel it under his fingertips. Maybe then all of this would seem real.

Hitchens cleared his throat for the third time. “I’m afraid to say I haven’t finished reading it all. Please, take your seats.”

Gregory, red-faced and steam nearly coming from his nostrils, didn’t sit down. Luke handed the dog to his mom and wiped the dog hair from his shirt in vain.

“‘Contingent upon inheriting, my grandson Luke Wright must fall in love and marry a suitable woman of his choice within one year of my death. He must stay married for three years,’” recited Hitchens.

Now it was Luke’s turn to say, “Are you serious? Please tell me you aren’t serious.”

Fall in love and marry? He’d always known Granny was eccentric, and even overbearing, but this was insane.

“‘My dearest friend Opal Johnson will meet with Luke and his wife to determine if they are in love upon marriage. If she sees that he is trying to skirt the rules, she will inform my lawyer and provide documentation of her findings.’” Hitchens pulled at his collar, looking uncomfortable.

“And what about my brother?” said Luke suddenly.

“It says here that he must return to Hazel Island within a year and live here for three years to inherit,” replied Hitchens.

“This is outrageous!” Gregory slammed a hand onto the desk, making Hitchens jump and the dog bark again. He grabbed the papers from Hitchens, reading over the text and turning redder and redder. “This can’t be real,” he kept saying over and over.

Juliet, for her part, was the only one who seemed calm. But Luke could tell she was upset, too. She wasn’t petting the dog but instead chewing on her bottom lip. She only ever did that when she was really agitated, because she hated messing up her lipstick otherwise.

“Listen to this,” said Gregory, his expression sneering. “‘As I loved my dearest David, I want the same for my eldest grandson. As far as my younger grandson, I want him to return to his home and reunite with his family. These two things, I wish for with all my heart.’ What a bunch of bullshit!”

Luke took the papers from his dad’s grip as Gregory started pacing like a caged tiger. Even reading the words himself didn’t make them seem real.

Luke was tempted to say to hell with the money. Even Granny didn’t have the right to dictate who he married. But Luke had been counting on inheriting a substantial amount of money that wouldn’t just be for his own enjoyment. It would be hugely beneficial to so many people.

Luke’s mind started turning, trying to find a way out of this. But deep down, he knew Granny would’ve made sure he couldn’t wriggle out of this. Wily to her last days was Esther Wright.

“Granny did always like a good joke,” said Luke.

At that, his dad whirled on him, pointing a finger in his face. “You! You did this. You influenced her. You went behind my back and made her change the will. There was no reason she would’ve done this to me. I was her only son. I took care of her, paid for her to be in the nicest facility, got her the best nurses, all of it. And she repays me like this!”

Luke pushed his dad’s hand aside. “Do you honestly think I could’ve gotten Granny to do anything she didn’t want to do? Come on.”

Gregory scowled. He knew Luke was right. No one had been as stubborn as Granny. Even in the moment before she’d breathed her last, she’d reminded her son that she’d wanted her body to be cremated. If he didn’t heed her wishes, she’d come back to haunt him. No one in the family had ever been cremated; the Wrights had the largest cemetery plot on Hazel Island. But Granny had wanted to defy tradition just like she always had.

“Well, this has been a little too much excitement for me.” Juliet stood. She came over to kiss Luke’s cheek. In a whisper, she said to Luke, “Better avoid your dad for now. I don’t want any bloodshed ruining my brand-new carpets.”

Luke just chuckled darkly and did as he was told for once.