Denim and Diamonds (2 page)

“It's good to see you again.”

He didn't answer that; instead, he returned his attention to her brother. “I was thinking about separating part of the herd, driving them a mile or so south. Of course, that'd mean hauling the feed a lot farther, but I believe the benefits will outweigh that inconvenience.”

“I think you're going to a lot of effort for nothing,” Lonny said, frowning.

Letty pulled out a chair and sat across from Chase. He could ignore her for only so long. Still, his gaze skirted hers, and he did his utmost to avoid looking at her.

“Who are you?”

Letty turned to the doorway, where Cricket was standing, blanket held tightly in her hand.

“Cricket, this is Uncle Lonny's neighbor, Mr. Brown.”

“I'm Cricket,” she said, grinning cheerfully.

“Hello.” Chase spoke in a gruff, unfriendly tone, obviously doing his best to disregard the little girl in the same manner he chose to overlook her mother.

A small cry of protest rose in Letty's throat. Chase could be as angry with her as he wanted. The way she figured it, that was his right, but he shouldn't take out his bitterness on an innocent child.

“Your hair's a funny color,” Cricket commented, fascinated. “I think it's pretty like that.” Her yellow blanket in tow, she marched up to Chase and raised her hand to touch the salt-and-pepper strands that were more pronounced at his temple.

Chase frowned and moved back so there wasn't any chance of her succeeding.

“My mommy and I are going to bake a pie for Uncle Lonny. Do you want some?”

Letty held her breath, waiting for Chase to reply. Something about him appeared to intrigue Cricket. The child couldn't stop staring at him. Her actions seemed to unnerve Chase, who made it obvious that he'd like nothing better than to forget her existence.

“I don't think Mr. Brown is interested in apple pie, sweetheart,” Letty said, trying to fill the uncomfortable silence.

“Then we'll make something he does like,” Cricket insisted. She reached for Chase's hand and tugged, demanding his attention. “Do you like chocolate chip cookies? I do. And Mommy makes really yummy ones.”

For a moment Chase stared at Cricket, and the pain that flashed in his dark eyes went straight through Letty's heart. A split second later he glanced away as though he couldn't bear to continue looking at the child.

“Do you?” Cricket persisted.

Chase nodded, although it was clearly an effort to do so.

“Come on, Mommy,” Cricket cried. “I want to make them
now.
”

“What about my apple pie?” Lonny said, his eyes twinkling.

Cricket ignored the question, intent on the cookie-making task. She dragged her blanket after her as she started opening and closing the bottom cupboards, searching for bowls and pans. She dutifully brought out two of each and rummaged through the drawers until she located a wooden spoon. Then, as though suddenly finding the blanket cumbersome, the child lifted it from the floor and placed it in Chase's lap.

Letty could hardly believe her eyes. She'd brought Cricket home from the hospital in that yellow blanket and the little girl had slept with it every night of her life since. Rarely would she entrust it to anyone, let alone a stranger.

Chase looked down on the much-loved blanket as if the youngster had deposited a dirty diaper in his lap.

“I'll take it,” Letty said, holding out her hands.

Chase gave it to her, and when he did, his cold gaze locked with hers. Letty felt the chill in his eyes all the way through her bones. His bitterness toward her was evident with every breath he drew.

“It would've been better if you'd never come back,” he said so softly she had to strain to hear.

She opened her mouth to argue. Even Lonny didn't know the real reason she'd returned to Wyoming. No one did, except her doctor in California. She hadn't meant to come back and disrupt Chase's life—or anyone else's, for that matter. Chase didn't need to spell out that he didn't want anything to do with her. He'd made that clear the minute she walked into the kitchen.

“Mommy, hurry,” Cricket said. “We have to bake cookies.”

“Just a minute, sweetheart.” Letty was uncertain how to handle this new problem. She doubted Lonny had chocolate chips in the house, and a trip into town was more than she wanted to tackle that afternoon. “Cricket…”

Lonny and Chase both stood. “I'm driving on over to Chase's for the rest of the afternoon,” Lonny told her. He obviously wasn't accustomed to letting anyone know his whereabouts and did so now only as an afterthought.

“Can I go, too?” Cricket piped up, so eager her blue eyes sparkled with the idea.

Letty wanted her daughter to be comfortable with Lonny, and she would have liked to encourage the two of them to become friends, but the frown that darkened Chase's brow told her now wasn't the time.

“Not today,” Letty murmured, looking away from the two men.

Cricket pouted for a few minutes but didn't argue. It wouldn't have mattered if she had, because Lonny and Chase left without another word.

Dinner was ready and waiting when Lonny returned to the house that evening. Cricket ran to greet him, her pigtails bouncing. “Mommy and me cooked dinner for you!”

Lonny smiled down on her and absently patted her head, then went to the bathroom to wash his hands. Letty watched him and felt a tugging sense of discontent. After years of living alone, Lonny tended not to be as communicative as Letty wanted him to be. This was understandable, but it made her realize how lonely he must be out here on the ranch night after night without anyone to share his life. Ranchers had to be more stubborn than any other breed of male, Letty thought.

To complicate matters, there was the issue of Cricket staying with Lonny while Letty had the surgery. The little girl had never been away from her overnight.

Letty's prognosis for a complete recovery was good, but there was always the possibility that she wouldn't be coming home from the hospital. Any number of risks had to be considered with this type of operation, and if anything were to happen, Lonny would have to raise Cricket on his own. Letty didn't doubt he'd do so with the greatest of care, but he simply wasn't accustomed to dealing with children.

By the time her brother had finished washing up, dinner was on the table. He gazed down at the ample amount of food and grinned appreciatively. “I can't tell you how long it's been since I've had a home-cooked meal like this. I've missed it.”

“What have you been eating?”

He shrugged. “I come up with something or other, but nothing as appetizing as this.” He sat down and filled his plate, hardly waiting for Cricket and Letty to join him.

He was buttering his biscuit when he paused and looked at Letty. Slowly he put down the biscuit and placed his knife next to his plate. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“Sure,” she answered, smiling weakly. Actually, she wasn't—the day had been exhausting. She'd tried to do too much and she was paying the price, feeling shaky and weak. “What makes you ask?”

“You're pale.”

That could be attributed to seeing Chase again, but Letty didn't say so. Their brief meeting had left her feeling melancholy all afternoon. She'd been so young and so foolish, seeking the bright lights, utterly convinced that she'd never be satisfied with the lot of a rancher's wife. She'd wanted diamonds, not denim.

“No, I'm fine,” she lied as Lonny picked up the biscuit again.

“Mommy couldn't find any chocolate chips,” Cricket said, frowning, “so we just baked the apple pie.”

Lonny nodded, far more interested in his gravy and biscuits than in conversing with a child.

“I took Cricket out to the barn and showed her the horses,” Letty said.

Lonny nodded, then helped himself to seconds on the biscuits. He spread a thick layer of butter on each half.

“I thought maybe later you could let Cricket give them their oats,” Letty prompted.

“The barn isn't any place for a little girl,” Lonny murmured, dismissing the suggestion with a quick shake of his head.

Cricket looked disappointed and Letty mentally chastised herself for mentioning the idea in front of her daughter. She should have known better.

“Maybe Uncle Lonny will let me ride his horsey?” Cricket asked, her eyes wide and hopeful. “Mommy had a horsey when
she
was a little girl—I saw the picture in her room. I want one, too.”

“You have to grow up first,” Lonny said brusquely, ending the conversation.

It was on the tip of Letty's tongue to ask Lonny if he'd let Cricket sit in a saddle, but he showed no inclination to form a relationship with her daughter.

Letty was somewhat encouraged when Cricket went in to watch television with Lonny while she finished the dishes. But no more than ten minutes had passed before she heard Cricket burst into tears. A moment later, she came running into the kitchen. She buried her face in Letty's stomach and wrapped both arms around her, sobbing so hard her shoulders shook.

Lonny followed Cricket into the room, his face a study in guilt and frustration.

“What happened?” Letty asked, stroking her daughter's head.

Lonny threw his hands in the air. “I don't know! I turned on the TV and I was watching the news, when Cricket said she wanted to see cartoons.”

“There aren't any on right now,” Letty explained.

Cricket sobbed louder, then lifted her head. Tears ran unrestrained down her cheeks. “He said
no,
real mean.”

“She started talking to me in the middle of a story about the rodeo championships in Vegas, for Pete's sake.” Lonny stabbed his fingers through his hair.

“Cricket, Uncle Lonny didn't mean to upset you,” Letty told her. “He was watching his program and you interrupted him, that's all.”

“But he said it
mean.
”

“I hardly raised my voice,” Lonny came back, obviously perplexed. “Are kids always this sensitive?”

“Not really,” Letty assured him. Cricket was normally an easygoing child. Fits of crying were rare and usually the result of being overtired. “It was probably a combination of the flight and a busy day.”

Lonny nodded and returned to the living room without speaking to Cricket directly. Letty watched him go with a growing sense of concern. Lonny hadn't been around children in years and didn't have the slightest notion how to deal with a five-year-old. Cricket had felt more of a rapport with Chase than she did her own uncle, and Chase had done everything he could to ignore her.

Letty spent the next few minutes comforting her daughter. After giving Cricket a bath, Letty read her a story and tucked her in for the night. With her hand on the light switch, she acted out a game they'd played since Cricket was two.

“Blow out the light,” she whispered.

The child blew with all her might. At that precise moment, Letty flipped the switch.

“Good night, Mommy.”

“Night, sweetheart.”

Lonny was waiting for her in the living room, still frowning over the incident between him and his niece. “I don't know, Letty,” he said, apparently still unsettled. “I don't seem to be worth much in the uncle department.”

“Don't worry about it,” she said, trying to smile, but her thoughts were troubled. She couldn't schedule the surgery if she wasn't sure Cricket would be comfortable with Lonny.

“I'll try not to upset her again,” Lonny said, looking doubtful, “but I don't think I relate well to kids. I've been a bachelor for too long.”

Bachelor…

That was it. The solution to her worries. All evening she'd been thinking how lonely her brother was and how he needed someone to share his life. The timing was perfect.

Her gaze flew to her brother and she nearly sighed aloud with relief. What Lonny needed was a wife.

And Letty was determined to find him one.

Fast.

It wasn't exactly the welcome parade Letty had dreamed about, with the bright red convertible and the high school marching band, but Red Springs' reception was characteristically warm.

“Letty, it's terrific to see you again!”

“Why, Letty Ellison, I thought you were your dear mother. I never realized how much you resemble Maren. I still miss her, you know.”

“Glad you're back, Letty. Hope you plan to stay awhile.”

Letty smiled and shook hands and received so many hugs she was late for the opening hymn at the Methodist church on Sunday morning.

With Cricket by her side, she slipped silently into a pew and reached for a hymnal. The hymn was a familiar one from her childhood, and Letty knew the lyrics well. But even before she opened her mouth to join the others, tears welled up in her eyes. The organ music swirled around her, filling what seemed to be an unending void in her life. It felt so good to be back. So right to be standing in church with her childhood friends and the people she loved.

Attending services here was part of the magnetic pull that had brought her back to Wyoming. This comforting and spiritual experience reminded her that problems were like mountains. There wasn't one she couldn't handle with God's help. Either she'd climb it, pass around it or carve a tunnel through it.

The music continued and Letty reached for a tissue, dabbing at the tears. Her throat had closed up, and that made singing impossible, so she stood with her eyes shut, soaking up the words of the age-old hymn.

Led by instinct, she'd come back to Red Springs, back to the Bar E and the small Methodist church in the heart of town. She was wrapping everything that was important and familiar around her like a homemade quilt on a cold December night.

The organ music faded and Pastor Downey stepped forward to offer a short prayer. As Letty bowed her head, she could feel someone's bold stare. Her unease grew until she felt herself shudder. It was a sensation her mother had often referred to as someone walking over her grave. An involuntary smile tugged at Letty's mouth. That analogy certainly hit close to home. Much too close.

When the prayer was finished, it was all Letty could do not to turn around and find out who was glaring at her. Although she could guess…

“Mommy,” Cricket whispered, loudly enough for half the congregation to hear. “The man who likes chocolate chip cookies is here. He's two rows behind us.”

Chase.
Letty released an inward sigh. Just as she'd suspected, he was the one challenging her appearance in church, as if her presence would corrupt the good people of this gathering. Letty mused that he'd probably like it if she wore a scarlet
A
so everyone would know she was a sinner.

Lonny had warned her that Chase was different. And he was. The Chase Brown that Letty remembered wasn't judgmental or unkind. He used to be fond of children. Letty recalled that, years ago, when they walked through town, kids would automatically come running to Chase. He usually had coins for the gumball machine tucked away in his pocket, which he'd dole out judiciously. Something about him seemed to attract children, and the fact that Cricket had taken to him instantly was proof of his appeal.

An icy hand closed around Letty's heart at the memory. Chase was the type of man who should have married and fathered a houseful of kids. Over the years, she'd hoped he'd done exactly that.

But he hadn't. Instead, Chase had turned bitter and hard. Letty was well aware that she'd hurt him terribly. How she regretted that! Chase had loved her, but all he felt for her now was disdain. In years past, he hadn't been able to disguise his love; now, sadly, he had difficulty hiding his dislike.

Letty had seen the wounded look in his eyes when she'd walked into the kitchen the day before. She'd known then that she'd been the one to put it there. If she hadn't been so familiar with him, he might have been able to fool her.

If only she could alter the past…

“Mommy, what's his name again?” Cricket demanded.

“Mr. Brown.”

“Can I wave to him?”

“Not now.”

“I want to talk to him.”

Exasperated, Letty placed her hand on her daughter's shoulder and leaned down to whisper, “Why?”

“Because I bet he has a horse. Uncle Lonny won't let me ride his. Maybe Mr. Brown will.”

“Oh, Cricket, I don't think so….”

“Why not?” the little girl pressed.

“We'll talk about this later.”

“But I can ask, can't I? Please?”

The elderly couple in front of them turned around to see what all the commotion was about.

“Mommy?” Cricket persisted, clearly running out of patience.

“Yes, fine,” Letty agreed hurriedly, against her better judgment.

From that moment on, Cricket fidgeted. Letty had to speak to her twice during the fifteen-minute sermon; during the closing hymn, Cricket turned around to wave at Chase. She could barely wait for the end of the service so she could rush over and ask about his horse.

Letty could feel the dread mounting inside her. Chase didn't want anything to do with Cricket, and Letty hated the thought of him hurting the little girl's feelings. When the final prayer was offered, Letty added a small request of her own.

“Can we leave now?” Cricket said, reaching for her mother's hand and tugging at it as the concluding burst of organ music filled the church.

Letty nodded. Cricket dropped her hand and was off. Letty groaned inwardly and dashed after her.

Standing on the church steps, Letty saw that Chase was walking toward the parking lot when Cricket caught up with him. She must have called his name, because Chase turned around abruptly. Even from that distance, Letty could see his dark frown. Quickening her step, she made her way toward them.

“Good morning, Chase,” she greeted him, forcing a smile as she stood beside Cricket.

“Letty.” His hat was in his hand and he rotated the brim, as though eager to make his escape, which Letty felt sure he was.

“I asked him already,” Cricket blurted out, glancing up at her mother.

From the look Chase was giving Letty, he seemed to believe she'd put Cricket up to this. As if she spent precious time thinking up ways to irritate him!

“Mr. Brown's much too busy, sweetheart,” Letty said, struggling to keep her voice even and controlled. “Perhaps you can ride his horse another time.”

Cricket nodded and grinned. “That's what he said, too.”

Surprised, Letty gazed up at Chase. She was grateful he hadn't been harsh with her daughter. From somewhere deep inside, she dredged up a smile to thank him, but he didn't answer it with one of his own. A fresh sadness settled over Letty. The past would always stand between them, and there was nothing Letty could do to change that. She wasn't even sure she should try.

“If you'll excuse me,” she said, reaching for Cricket's hand, “there are some people I want to talk to.”

“More people?” Cricket whined. “I didn't know there were so many people in the whole world.”

“It was nice to see you again, Chase,” Letty said, turning away. Not until several minutes later did she realize he hadn't echoed her greeting.

Chase couldn't get away from the church fast enough. He didn't know why he'd decided to attend services this particular morning. It wasn't as if he made a regular practice of it, although he'd been raised in the church. He supposed that something perverse inside him was interested in knowing if Letty had the guts to show up.

The woman had nerve. Another word that occurred to him was
courage;
it wouldn't be easy to face all those people with an illegitimate daughter holding her hand. That kind of thing might be acceptable in big cities, but people here tended to be more conservative. Outwardly folks would smile, but the gossip would begin soon enough. He suspected that once it did, Letty would pack up her bags and leave again.

He wished she would. One look at her the day she'd arrived and he knew he'd been lying to himself all these years. She was paler than he remembered, but her face was still a perfect oval, her skin creamy and smooth. Her blue eyes were huge and her mouth a lush curve. There was no way he could continue lying to himself. He was still in love with her—and always would be.

He climbed inside his pickup and started the engine viciously. He gripped the steering wheel hard. Who was he trying to kid? He'd spent years waiting for Letty to come back. Telling himself he hated her was nothing more than a futile effort to bolster his pride. He wished there could be someone else for him, but there wasn't; there never would be. Letty was the only woman he'd ever loved, heart and soul. If she couldn't be the one to fill his arms during the night, then they'd remain empty. But there was no reason for Letty ever to know that. The fact was, he'd prefer it if she didn't find out. Chase Brown might be fool enough to fall in love with the wrong woman, but he knew better than to hand her the weapon that would shred what remained of his pride.

“You must be Lonny's sister,” a feminine voice drawled from behind Letty.

Letty finished greeting one of her mother's friends before turning. When she did, she met a statuesque blonde, who looked about thirty. “Yes, I'm Letty,” she said, smiling.

“I'm so happy to meet you. I'm Mary Brandon,” the woman continued. “I hope you'll forgive me for being so direct, but I heard someone say your name and thought I'd introduce myself.”

“I'm pleased to meet you, Mary.” They exchanged quick handshakes as Letty sized up the other woman. She didn't wear a ring. Single—and eager. “How do you know Lonny?”

“I work at the hardware store and your brother comes in every now and then. He might have mentioned me?” she asked hopefully. When Letty shook her head, Mary shrugged and gave a nervous laugh. “He stops in and gets whatever he needs and then he's on his way.” She paused. “He must be lonely living out on that ranch all by himself. Especially after all those years in the rodeo.”

Letty could feel the excitement bubbling up inside her. Mary Brandon definitely looked like wife material to her, and it was obvious the woman was more than casually interested in Lonny. As far as Letty was concerned, there wasn't any better place to find a prospective mate for her brother than in church.

The night before, she'd lain in bed wondering where she'd ever meet someone suitable for Lonny. If he hadn't found anyone in the past few years, there was nothing to guarantee that she could come up with the perfect mate in just a few months. The truth was, she didn't know whether he'd had any serious—or even not-so-serious—relationships during her years away. His rodeo success had certainly been an enticement to plenty of girls, but since he'd retired from the circuit and since their parents had died, her brother had become so single-minded, so dedicated to the ranch, that he'd developed tunnel vision. The Bar E now demanded all his energy and time, and consequently his personal life had suffered.

“Your brother seems very nice,” Mary was saying.

And eligible,
Letty added silently. “He's wonderful, but he works so hard it's difficult for anyone to get to know him.”

Mary sent her a look that said she understood that all too well. “He's not seeing anyone regularly, is he?”

“No.” But Letty wished he were.

Mary's eyes virtually snapped with excitement. “He hides away on the Bar E and hardly ever socializes. I firmly believe he needs a little fun in his life.”

Letty's own eyes were gleaming. “I think you may be right. Listen, Mary, perhaps we should talk….”

Chase was working in the barn when he heard Lonny's truck. He wiped the perspiration off his brow with his forearm.

Lonny walked in and Chase immediately recognized that he was upset. Chase shoved the pitchfork into the hay and leaned against it. “Problems?”

Lonny didn't answer him right away. He couldn't seem to stay in one place. “It's that fool sister of mine.”

Chase's hand closed around the pitchfork. Letty had been on his mind all morning and she was the last person he wanted to discuss. Lonny appeared to be waiting for a response, so Chase gave him one. “I knew she'd be nothing but trouble from the moment you told me she was coming home.”

Lonny removed his hat and slapped it against his thigh. “She went to church this morning.” He turned to glance in Chase's direction. “Said she saw you there. Actually, it was her kid, Cricket, who mentioned your name. She calls you ‘the guy who likes chocolate chip cookies.' ” He grinned slightly at that.

“I was there,” Chase said tersely.

“At any rate, Letty talked to Mary Brandon afterward.”

A smile sprang to Chase's lips. Mary had set her sights on Lonny three months ago, and she wasn't about to let up until she got her man.

“Wipe that smug look off your face, Brown. You're supposed to be my friend.”

“I am.” He lifted a forkful of hay and tossed it behind him. Lonny had been complaining about the Brandon woman for weeks. Mary had done everything but stand on her head to garner his attention. And a wedding ring.

Lonny stalked aggressively to the other end of the barn, then returned. “Letty's overstepped the bounds this time,” he muttered.

“Oh? What did she do?”

“She invited Mary to dinner tomorrow night.”

Despite himself, Chase burst out laughing. He turned around to discover his friend glaring at him and stopped abruptly. “You're kidding, I hope?”

“Would I be this upset if I was? She invited that…woman right into my house without even asking me how I felt about it. I told her I had other plans for dinner tomorrow, but she claims she needs me there to cut the meat. Nine years in California and she didn't learn how to cut meat?”