The Legacy of Copper Creek (11 page)

I
n the early morning dawn, Cara moved effortlessly about the kitchen, stirring something on the stove, checking the oven, squeezing oranges for juice, and all with an efficiency that belied her inner storm.

She'd managed to slip away to her room the previous night while Whit and Mad were having a noisy discussion about the best way to shore up the eroding soil during the heavy spring rains.

Later, while lying in the dark in her bed, she'd heard his footsteps pause outside her room and knew that he was checking to see if her light was still on. She'd heard him move on and had exhaled slowly.

It wasn't that she didn't want Whit's attention. What really disturbed her was that she found herself yearning for it. For him. And she knew she wasn't ready. Before she allowed this to go any further, she needed to be certain in her mind just what she wanted.

There had been so many mistakes in her young life. Her mother had always considered the simple act of giving birth to her a mistake. And that was a heavy burden in Cara's heart. For years she'd believed that if only she could become a successful writer-illustrator, she would have the respect she craved. If she achieved her goal, she reasoned, she would no longer be just a silly dreamer. She would be somebody her mother wouldn't resent.

And then there was the dream she never allowed herself to admit to. The dream of being part of a loving family. That was an even more impossible dream than getting her children's book published.

She knew that was the reason she'd been so quick to jump at the chance to stay here. From the moment Whit had told her about his large, noisy, fascinating family, she'd wanted to see them for herself. Being an only child, with no living relatives, they sounded too good to be true.

She knew, too, that she was allowing her own fantasy to color reality. What she ought to be doing was finding a job somewhere and working toward financial independence. But at least for now, the lure of a paycheck wasn't as strong as the lure of earning the right to spend a little more time here, safe and snug, in the bosom of the rowdy MacKenzie family.

Safe and snug.

Was that a fantasy, too?

The texts had been coming with more frequency. Ugly, threatening texts. But though Jared knew her cell phone number, he couldn't possibly know where she was. Could he? Would a rich man spend money on expensive detectives to have her traced through her cell phone? Would he have her hunted and humiliated, just for the sake of settling a grudge?

“Good morning.”

At the cheerful sound of Willow's voice, Cara looked over. “Good morning. There's juice and coffee on that tray.”

“Thank you.” Willow helped herself to a tall glass of orange juice and carried it to the table just as Whit and Brady walked in.

Cara paused to watch as Whit rolled his sleeves and washed at the big mudroom sink. He looked so wonderfully sweaty and dirty from his early morning chores. His hair mussed and falling over his forehead in the most appealing way. His plaid shirt sticking to his skin, displaying all those corded muscles.

Seeing the way Willow was staring at her, she forced herself to look away.

When Whit stepped into the kitchen, he greeted Willow with a quick kiss on the cheek before stepping up beside Cara.

“You went upstairs early last night without saying good night.”

“Yes. I didn't want to interrupt your conversation with your grandfather.”

“You know I would have welcomed the interruption.”

He stepped back a pace when he saw Willow watching and listening.

Brady stepped into the kitchen and turned to Willow. “Mad said when he flew over Stone Canyon yesterday, most of the snow had melted in the higher elevations. So I'll be taking a group of wranglers up to the hills today. Time to move that herd from the canyon to the highlands, and then I'll backtrack and drive the trailer and flatbed down to the barn.”

Willow thought a moment. “I could go along. I don't have anything pressing here today. That way you can stay in the hills with the herd, and I'll take the flatbed home.”

Brady poured himself a mug of coffee. “Suit yourself. That's a big rig to handle.”

“I can manage. I've driven it before.”

He turned to Whit. “Think you can manage the rest of the roadwork without me?”

Whit nodded. “If I get stuck, I'll call on Ash or Griff.”

“Griff will be flying to Hope Ranch with Mad.”

That had Whit grinning. “Mad wasn't kidding when he said that scooter changed his life. Now he thinks he's the same young guy who tamed this wilderness fifty years ago.”

Willow shook her head. “It isn't the scooter. It's Juliet, and the motivation she's given Mad to change his life.”

“Did I hear someone mention my name?” The object of their discussion rolled his scooter into the kitchen with ease and helped himself to a mug of coffee.

“I was telling them that you're a changed man,” Willow said with a smile. “Thanks to Juliet and her therapy.”

“She gave me back my life, lass.” He rolled closer and pressed a kiss on his daughter-in-law's cheek.

“I'd say she's given you wings.”

“That she has.” He wore a bright smile. “I think I'll be able to pilot the Cessna in another week or two, when I have some modifications made to the instruments.”

“Wings indeed.” Willow sighed. “Isn't it amazing how much one person can change another forever?”

That had Whit turning to study Cara as she finished the breakfast preparations.

When Myrna entered the kitchen with an armload of laundry, Cara began setting platters of ham and eggs and toast on the table.

Seeing it, Myrna halted. “You don't have to wait for me in order to eat.”

Cara took the laundry from her arms. “Yes, I do. Now sit and eat. You put in more hours than anyone I know.”

The old woman's eyes softened as she took her place at the table and accepted a cup of coffee from Cara's hands.

Around the table, Willow shot a look at her father-in-law, who was studying Cara with interest, and then at Myrna, who was helping herself to toast.

Cara set a little pot of jam in front of the housekeeper. “I noticed this was your favorite.”

The old woman was humming as she spread jam on her toast.

Cara was unaware of the family watching her as she returned her attention to something on the stove.

The sun was already high in the sky as Willow sat astride her chestnut mare and watched the wranglers begin herding the cattle out of the box canyon where they'd been for the past week. Since they were restless for the lush grass of the highlands, it would be an easy task to get them to the hills that ringed the ranch. The toughest part of the job was getting them started on their long trek.

After their enforced imprisonment in the canyon, the herd was tense and edgy. There was much cursing and shouting as strays broke ranks and had to be lassoed and forced back to join the herd. As always, Brady was in the thick of the action, chasing down a stray, using his rope to subdue, cooing softly or sometimes swearing at an errant cow determined to break free.

Willow found herself laughing aloud at the antics of a particularly stubborn cow that refused to follow the herd. After its third attempt at freedom, Brady lassoed the animal, tied the rope to his saddle horn, and led it into the middle of the herd, where it would be hemmed in by too many animals to bolt.

He was still muttering a few well-chosen oaths when he rode up beside Willow's mount and came to a halt.

“I swear that ornery cow has a woman's mind. She's just not willing to go with the flow.”

Willow's low rumble of laughter had him turning to look at her. “Spoken like a man. Can't you see she's heavy with calf and wants a little privacy for the delivery?”

“The plan is to have her deliver it, not here in this arid place, but cushioned in lush grass in the highlands, with a wrangler nearby to assist if she gets into trouble.”

“That's your plan.” Willow was still grinning. “That cow knows that time and babies wait for no man. Her plan is to make a break for it and have some time away from the noisy herd.”

Her smile was infectious, and Brady found himself laughing. “So I should make plans to track her again and again until that calf is born?”

“You might want to think about it. Despite all the wranglers, and all the cattle, my money's on the cow to make a break to freedom.”

He gave a slow shake of his head. “I'll tell young Carter to keep an eye on her.”

He nudged his mount into a gallop until he caught up with one of the wranglers.

A short time later he returned to Willow's side.

She seemed surprised. “I thought you were heading upland with the herd.”

“That was my intention. But looking at all this mud churned up by the herd, I'd like to be sure you can get this flatbed moving before I join the wranglers.”

“Men,” she muttered as she turned her mare toward the entrance to the canyon, where the tractor and flatbed trailer were parked. “You're beginning to sound just like Bear.”

Brady chuckled. “Just looking out for your welfare.” Over his shoulder he added, “And, yes, I know you can look out for yourself. But humor me.”

She paused and turned in the saddle. Her voice softened. “Really, I don't mind. It's nice to know you have my back.”

Brady trailed behind Willow, fighting to suppress the grin that tugged at the corners of his mouth.

If there was ever a woman who didn't need a man's help, it was Willow MacKenzie. In all the years he'd known her, he'd never heard her ask for assistance from Bear, her sons, or from any of the wranglers.

Still, he'd seen the way the tractor tires were mired. It had been parked here for over a week, after all, buried first in snow and now in all this mud and slush.

He promised himself he would simply remain here until that old tractor was safely along the trail, pulling the flatbed in its wake.

He couldn't help himself. He just had to know that Willow was safe.

The sun had long ago moved behind the hills, leaving the land in a rosy glow. The man and woman shoveling dirt beneath the tires of the flatbed failed to appreciate the beauty.

Willow climbed up to the seat of the tractor and put it in gear. It inched forward before grinding once more to a halt.

Brady shoveled more earth and stones beneath the tires of the flatbed and urged her to try again. Again the tractor balked.

She climbed down and walked over to join him.

“Looks like this thing is stuck until the sun can dry up all this muck.”

“Yeah. And that's not going to happen now.”

At Brady's words, she noticed for the first time that darkness was beginning to cover the land.

“Oh, Brady. I'm sorry. I've made you miss an entire day here, when you'd planned on being with the herd.”

“Hey.” He laid a hand on her arm. “You know there's no such thing as making plans on a working ranch. Plans were made to be broken.” He looked around. “The real problem is, we're stuck here until daylight. There are too many miles, and too many pitfalls along the trails, to take the horses back to the ranch until morning.”

Willow nodded. “It won't be the first time I've had to spend a night under the stars.” She glanced around. “Let's find a good spot to make camp.”

“We could set our bedrolls under the flatbed.”

“Too muddy.” She shook her head. “I'd settle for that if it were raining. But it's a clear night, and I want to see the stars.”

“Let's take a look up there.” Brady indicated a stand of Ponderosa pines on a hill overlooking the canyon.

They led their horses up the incline.

“There's plenty of grass, and we're sheltered from the elements on three sides by these pines.” Brady tethered his horse and removed the saddle and saddlebags. “Best of all, it'll give you a perfect view of that sky.” He turned away. “I'll get a fire started.”

Willow unsaddled her mare and tethered her nearby before tossing the saddle and saddle blanket on the ground.

She turned to Brady. “How I wish I'd thought to bring along some supplies. But I thought I'd be home long before this.”

He held up a blackened pot, a tin of coffee, and an assortment of wrapped packages. “Maybe you planned on being home, but I figured I'd be up in the hills for some time. I had Myrna fix me my usual care package.”

A short time later, she and Brady were seated alongside a cozy fire, using their saddles as backrests as they reclined side by side, sipping strong, hot coffee splashed with some of Mad's scotch and nibbling hard-boiled eggs and beef jerky.

“Bless Myrna,” Willow sighed.

“Yeah. I say that every time I'm in the hills. That woman does know how to pamper a cowboy.”

Willow stared up at the night sky, ablaze with millions of stars that looked close enough to reach out and touch. “I've missed this. I've always loved sleeping up in the hills.” She turned. “How about you, Brady?”

“It's good when it's a perfect night like this. But I've been stuck in rain, snow, and wind that nearly blows me off the side of a mountain. Then it's not so great.”

He stretched out his long legs toward the fire. “But this…Now this is the best.”

“Where did you grow up, Brady?”

He was silent for so long, Willow wondered if he'd heard her question. When she turned to him, he was frowning and staring off into the distance.

“I was born on a hard patch of land in the middle of Montana wilderness. Our nearest neighbor was more than a hundred miles away.”

“Did you have brothers and sisters?”

He shook his head. “Just me and my mother and father.”

“Were you close?”