The Legacy of Copper Creek (16 page)

T
hank you for coming all this way, Miss Walton.” Sheriff Todd Hack shook Cara's hand as he walked her to the outer office where Whit was waiting.

She paused. “I hope I was helpful.”

The lawman nodded.

He'd been a state police officer for nearly fifteen years, before deciding to accept the offer to move his wife and family to the small town of Red Rock.

“This is our first murder case since I've been sheriff, and I'm not happy that it hasn't been neatly resolved. I was sure Abe's nephew was guilty as sin, but there are enough doubts about his guilt or innocence that the state's attorney general isn't ready to issue an arrest order. So any new leads are appreciated. I intend to look very carefully into everything you said.”

“I wish I could have told you more.”

“Believe me, Miss Walton, every bit of evidence, no matter how insignificant, will be taken seriously.”

Whit caught Cara's hand as the two walked to his truck.

As he drove the hundred miles back to Copper Creek, he saw Cara checking her cell phone.

“Did you tell Sheriff Hack about those threatening texts?”

“Yes.” She sighed. “I knew when I agreed to meet with him that I would have to be honest about everything, including that entire mess with Jared. Sheriff Hack asked my permission to forward all the threatening texts to the state police crime lab, and now Jared will be asked some very embarrassing questions.”

“Why are you unhappy about that?”

“Because it points out even more clearly how many unwise decisions I've made. Someone like Jared Billingham won't be happy to be interviewed by the police. I'm sure he'll want to get revenge. It will be just one more reason for Jared to muddy my name if he chooses to.”

Whit's eyes narrowed behind his sunglasses. “Don't be too sure of that. I'm thinking Billingham won't want his shabby treatment of you to become public knowledge.”

“I left him in a huff, without a replacement as food manager.”

“And he caused you a great deal of pain. Don't be sorry that he's now being dragged into an investigation. He brought it on himself by sending threatening texts.” He reached for her hand. “Don't give that jerk another thought. He isn't worth it.”

Cara stared out the window, taking comfort in Whit's hand holding hers. It was funny how everything seemed simple and safe when she was with him. Now, if only it were true and not just some foolish, romantic illusion.

Willow stepped out of the ranch truck and looked up at the sound of a plane's engine. Shading her eyes, she watched the sleek silver plane circling over the barn in preparation for landing.

She turned to Brady, who tossed a sack of grain over his shoulder as though it weighed no more than a feather pillow. “Lance is here. You'll join us?” At his slight hesitation, she added, “Please.”

Brady nodded. “I'll come to your office in a few minutes.”

As he strode away, she remained by the back porch, watching as Lance stepped from the plane and made his way to the house. In his hand was the ever-present briefcase.

He seemed impatient as he pressed a kiss to her cheek. “You got my e-mail?”

“Yes. How is your father?”

“He's fine. We had a good visit. Fished every day. He's becoming quite the retiree. He built a fish table at the end of the dock and can filet a fish like a gourmet chef. He's looking better than I've ever seen him.”

“I'm so glad he's enjoying retirement.” She tucked her arm through his and led him inside, where Myrna was sorting the never-ending laundry.

The old woman looked up with a smile. “Would you like coffee?”

“That would be grand.” Willow turned to Lance. “How about you?”

He nodded.

Myrna began placing a creamer and sugar bowl on a round wooden tray. “You two go along, and I'll bring this in a minute.”

“Thank you, Myrna.” Willow led the way down the hallway toward her office.

Minutes later, Cara emerged from the pantry. “I found these lasagna noodles. Guess what I'm thinking of making tonight?”

“Lasagna sounds great.” Myrna filled a carafe with coffee.

Cara looked over. “Where are you taking that?”

“Willow's office. She's in there with her lawyer.” The old woman wrinkled her nose. “More documents. Poor thing. She's sick to death of having to sign things since Bear passed away.”

Cara reached for the tray. “This is too heavy for you, Myrna. I'll take it.”

Just then, Brady walked in. After washing at the sink in the mudroom, he took the tray from Cara's hands. “For Willow?”

She nodded.

“Since I'm going there anyway, there's no need for you to bother.”

“Thanks, Brady.” Cara found her cheeks flushed, even though the foreman had given her no reason to feel embarrassed. Every time she thought about how boldly she and Whit had behaved down by the creek, believing themselves alone in the universe, she found herself blushing all over again.

She was grateful when the foreman disappeared down the hall with the tray of coffee.

“Just need your signature here and here and—” Lance looked up as Brady stepped into the office.

“Afternoon, Lance.” Brady set the tray down on a corner of the big desk. “Coffee?”

“You taking over the household duties as well as wrangling, Brady?” At his joke, Lance shot a quick smile at Willow.

“Just saving Myrna and Cara from having to carry this.”

“Cara? I haven't heard that name before.” Lance turned to Willow. “A new hire?”

“Cara Walton. A friend of Whit's. They met up in the hills.”

“In the hills? Is her ranch nearby?”

“No. She was just…passing through. She's turning out to be a real gift to all of us. The girl can cook like a pro.”

The lawyer poured himself a cup of coffee and inhaled the fragrance before taking a sip. “Hey, that's good. Freshly ground beans. A hint of vanilla.”

“Now you're the one sounding like a pro. A professional barista,” Willow said with a laugh.

“I know my coffee. I couldn't function all day without it. Especially after the day I put in today.”

“I thought you were coming from a relaxing visit with your father.”

“That ended early.” His eyes narrowed. “I had another appointment before coming here.”

“And not a pleasant one, from your tone.” Willow watched as the young lawyer took another long drink before returning his attention to the documents spread out in front of them on the desktop.

“As I was saying, Willow, sign here and here and on this one as well.”

At Brady's arched brow, Willow took a seat behind the desk and began to read each document.

She looked up. “Are these the same ones you brought last week?”

Lance nodded. “I had my assistant fax them to me up at Dad's cottage. I asked him to go through them for any errors before I brought them along.” He studied her as she read the last page. “Are they to your satisfaction?”

“They seem fine. And knowing that your father approved them makes it all the better.”

He watched as she signed and dated each one before placing them in his briefcase. Before he could close it, he reached in and removed several more. “Oh, I almost forgot. Dad said you'll need to sign these, too.”

He poured himself a second cup of coffee.

She started to do as he asked when Brady stepped up beside her.

He looked over at Lance. “Are these new?”

Lance couldn't hide his impatience. “I'm on a tight schedule, Willow.”

Willow glanced at Brady before repeating his question. “Then tell me. Are these new documents, Lance?”

“Just copies of the ones you've already signed. You know how the law is. Everything in duplicate or triplicate.”

Before Willow could reach for her pen, Brady gave a slight shake of his head.

Willow picked up the first page.

Lance made a point of checking his watch. “I really don't have time for this, Willow.”

“There's always time for an important client to read documents.” Brady's tone was dangerously soft.

Lance put down his cup with a clatter. “You know something, Storm? I need to be in Helena before dark.” He swept up the documents and stuffed them in his briefcase before snapping it closed. “All I need are the single documents for now. Once the bank records are in order, I'll have my assistant send the rest.”

He didn't bother kissing Willow's cheek this time before turning away. “You'll be hearing from me soon.”

He made his way down the hallway and through the kitchen.

Hearing the sound of booted feet entering the kitchen, Cara, busy in the pantry, lifted her head to call out, “Did you forget something, Brady?”

For a moment there was only silence. It seemed to stretch out forever, before the footsteps continued through the mudroom.

Cara poked her head around the pantry doors in time to see a tall, well-dressed man striding across the porch and down the steps.

Minutes later the plane was airborne, a silver streak reflecting the rays of the late afternoon sunlight off its wings.

Brady shoved his cell phone into his shirt pocket before turning to Willow. “Carter tells me they're having a record number of calves. He and the wranglers are also spotting a record number of wolves prowling the perimeter of the herd. I'm going to head up to the highlands and give them a hand.”

She pushed away from her desk. “I'll go with you.”

“There's no need.” Brady shook his head. “I could be up there for days.”

“Good. I need as much time as possible away from this.” She waved a hand at the paperwork littering her desktop.

The foreman grinned. “You'd risk crazy spring weather just to avoid doing what you know you'll have to do sooner or later anyway?”

“Later is much better than sooner.” She snatched up a pair of weathered work gloves and followed him out the door.

In the kitchen they found Cara up to her elbows in bubbling marinara sauce and mounds of freshly shredded cheese.

“Brady and I won't be here for supper,” Willow announced. “We're heading up to the herd.”

“Oh.” Cara gave them a glorious smile. “I'm fixing lasagna.”

“It smells fabulous.” Willow looked around. “Do you think you have time to fix us a handy carry-out? Maybe some sandwiches and a gallon or so of coffee?”

“You got it.” Cara dimpled. “I'll bring it out to the barn.”

“Thanks.” Willow followed Brady out the door.

A short time later, Cara stepped into the cavernous barn with an armload of food and beverages.

“What's all this?” Brady asked in surprise.

“I thought, since I'm fixing something for the two of you, I ought to send along some goodies for the wranglers. I sliced roast beef and turkey, cheese, lettuce and veggies and wrapped them inside whole loaves of bread I baked earlier. And a couple dozen oatmeal raisin cookies.”

“They're going to sing your praises,” Brady said with a laugh. “Thank you.”

Cara glanced around. “Where's Whit? I thought he was doing barn chores?”

“He is.” Brady nodded toward the hayloft, where Whit was working feverishly with a pitchfork.

Whistling a tune, the foreman stashed the wrapped food in his saddlebags and led his horse outside, where Willow was already astride her mare.

Myrna stepped into the kitchen to announce, “Mad just phoned. He's decided to stay the night at Hope Ranch with Griff and Juliet and the boys. He said there's a storm brewing, and Ash isn't comfortable flying in it, so Brenna agreed to drive over to join him and the others for supper at their place.” She was wearing a radiant smile. “That means that we have the place to ourselves for the whole night.”

Cara looked at the sauce simmering, the shredded cheese, and the spinach she was about to steam before cooking the lasagna noodles. “But I have all this food ready to cook. I swear there's enough here to feed an entire team of wranglers.”

“It'll keep.” Myrna eyed it. “I'm not much for fancy food anyway. I think I'll just have a sandwich in my room and watch some game shows.”

“But…” Cara let the words trail off as the old woman walked away.

Deflated, she turned off the stove and began searching for storage bowls. She would just have to make her fancy lasagna another day.

When the door opened, she looked up to see Whit heading toward the big sink, rolling his sleeves before washing up.

He strolled into the kitchen and breathed deeply. “Do I smell pizza?”

“Tomato sauce. I was going to make lasagna. But I guess you and I are the only ones eating tonight.”

His look sharpened. “I know Mom and Brady are up in the hills. What about the others?”

She shrugged. “Mad is spending the night at Griff and Juliet's because of a storm coming in, and Ash and Brenna are joining them there. When Myrna got the word, she went off to watch game shows in her room.”

He stepped closer, wearing a wolfish grin. “Can you turn those fixings into a pizza?”

She shot him a puzzled look. “I don't understand…”

“Can you do that?”

“I guess. But…”

“Do it.” He looked around. “I'll be back in a flash.”

Alone in the kitchen, Cara took a package of dough out of the refrigerator and began dusting the cutting board with flour before rolling it into a huge circle. A short time later, she'd covered the dough with spinach, ham, sausage, onions, and the bubbling tomato sauce before topping it with the grated cheese and placing it in the oven.

When Whit returned, he was grinning from ear to ear. “Now I know I smell pizza.”