The Legacy of Copper Creek (8 page)

Desperate to soothe, he laid a big hand on her shoulder. “I'm sorry. I'll go now. Please don't cry anymore.”

She turned and clutched his sleeve. “I'm not crying because…” She swallowed. “This isn't about…” She blinked rapidly to stem the tide. “I guess it's just everything. Being afraid, and then finding you, and your wonderful family, and…” She dropped her hand to her side. “This is all so new to me. I'm so mixed up. I just need some time to get used to…kind people.”

He touched a hand to her cheek.

“Okay. Good night, Cara.”

He opened the door and turned back to her with a half-smile. “I'm glad you're staying.”

Before she could say a word, the door closed and he was gone.

Alone in her room, Cara was too agitated to settle. She walked to the window and stared at the hills, veiled in darkness. Over their peaks, a full moon glowed bright orange in a midnight sky.

Earlier, listening to Mad's account of the old rancher who'd been shot, she'd experienced a deep feeling of dread. Could this be the same old man who'd been threatened by Suit-and-Tie? Or was she allowing her writer's wild imagination to steer her in the wrong direction?

Her gram always used to say that Cara was either blessed to escape into an imaginary world of adventure or cursed to see monsters and villains around every corner. And it was so true.

She'd covered all her childhood fears by conjuring an imaginary girl and her horse who could fly around the world, saving those in need. In time, she'd begun to believe she could go anywhere, do anything, and no harm could touch her.

This past year had been a challenge. But meeting Whit, and now his family, gave her hope for a fresh start.

She wrapped her arms around herself and began to pace. Oh, how she hoped the killer of that old man in Red Rock had been the rancher's nephew. Then she would be able to breathe freely again, knowing the man with the evil eyes had been magnified in her mind.

Hearing the silence settle over the household, she began undressing and getting ready for bed.

For so long now she'd been feeling adrift. But now, knowing she could stay here in this isolated place, surrounded by this large, noisy, loving family, she was beginning to believe she could actually relax and enjoy life for a while. Just until she figured out where to go from here.

So much had happened to her. The painful incident with Jared had shattered her confidence.

Witnessing what she thought was a deadly threat to both that old rancher and to her had her running scared.

Having Whit storm into that cabin in the middle of nowhere had been, for her, the final straw. And then, after blowing in like the blizzard raging outside, he'd turned into a fun, funny, interesting companion.

Companion
. The very word had her shivering as she climbed between the covers.

Whit MacKenzie was hot, sexy, and the greatest temptation she'd ever had to fight. If it hadn't been for her experience with Jared, she might have welcomed his attentions and acted on them. But she was still sorting out way too many things right now and questioning her own judgment.

She intended to take things one baby step at a time.

Still, it would be so easy to give in to the pleasure he offered.

She fell asleep dreaming about rolling around in this big, soft bed, making mad, passionate love with the sexiest cowboy she'd ever known.

T
he sun was just rising when Brady sat on the backhoe and began working the big claw through layers of mud. Whit stood at the gaping hole in the ground with a shovel over his shoulder.

“Okay, son. That's as far as I can go without doing damage. Give it a try.”

At Brady's shout, Whit dropped into the deep hole and began shoveling the last layers of muck before looking up. “It's broken.”

“That's what I was afraid of.” Brady climbed down and jumped into the hole beside Whit. “We're going to have to set a whole new pipe in here before this entire road collapses.”

Whit nodded. “And we'll have to work fast. There's more rain coming.”

Brady dug out his cell phone. “Ridley. Brady Storm here. How soon can your guys deliver a ten-inch culvert?” He listened before saying, “Yeah. It's our main road out to the highway, and with more rain coming, I need this now.”

In an aside to Whit, he muttered, “It's not looking good.”

He listened some more before saying, “Great. Thanks, Ridley. I owe you.”

He dropped his phone back in his pocket. “They'll be here before supper. They're thinking around three or four o'clock. So for now, it looks like we may as well clean up and see about having some breakfast.”

“I've been thinking about food for hours.”

Brady clapped a muddy hand on Whit's shoulder. “I know what you mean, son. The days start early on a ranch.”

As they walked toward the barn, Brady said casually, “Your girl's a cute little thing.”

“She's not my girl.” Whit paused. “I mean…we just met.”

“And spent some time together up in the hills.”

“Well, yeah. She was squatting there…”

Brady stopped and turned to face him. “She was living there? In the range shack?”

Whit nodded. “Yeah. Actually she was hiding out.”

“Is she in some kind of trouble?”

“She got herself into a jam with a smooth-talking guy.”

“Where's she from?”

“Minerva.”

Brady squinted his eyes. “I know of it. Smaller even than Copper Creek. Spit and you're through it.”

Whit started grinning. “Yeah. That's how Cara described it. Anyway, she was holed up in our shack and I guess I gave her quite a scare when I showed up out of the blue.”

“Yeah. That face of yours would be enough to scare any girl senseless.”

Whit punched Brady's arm. “I managed to turn on the charm.”

“I just bet you did. And now what? How long is she staying?”

“I don't think she has any place to go.”

“She's homeless?”

“As far as I can tell. She grew up with a grandmother, who's now dead.”

“Parents?”

Whit shook his head. “Her ma's dead. Doesn't know her father.”

Brady took his time digesting that. “But she's still standing.”

“Yeah. And damned independent. She left this in the cupboard up at the range shack.” He handed over the envelope.

Brady read the note, then counted the money inside. “Fifty-seven dollars and twenty-five cents? Isn't that an odd amount of money?”

“She'd put fifty in first. I think that was all she had left, and she intended to leave it there when she left. Then she beat me at Scrabble for seven dollars and twenty-five cents and must have added it when I wasn't looking.”

Brady smiled at Whit. “I'm liking that young woman more all the time.”

“Yeah.” Whit returned the foreman's smile as he tucked away the envelope. “A lot of strikes against her, but, like you said, she's still standing. And determined to earn her way. I guess that's what I like about her, too.”

“You?” Brady shot him a knowing look. “That may be one of the things you like about her now, but I'm guessing long before you learned about her background, you happened to notice a whole lot more. Like those dimples when she smiles, and those big green eyes, and—”

“Okay.” Whit lifted both hands. “Just so you know, she may be easy to look at, but she's also a really good person.”

“You don't have to convince me, son.”

The two men were both grinning as they stowed their gear in the barn and headed toward the ranch house.

Myrna stepped into the kitchen and filled a drawer with clean towels. “As soon as I finish parceling out this first load of laundry, I can give you a hand, Cara.”

Cara looked up from the stove. “Don't worry about it. I've got everything handled.”

The older woman paused to give her a long look. “I heard you up before dawn.”

Cara laughed. “Actually, I was up most of the night, thinking about what to fix for my first meal.”

Myrna walked closer and put a hand on her arm. “I know you're feeling a bit anxious, but it's all going to be fine. Everyone is so pleased that you're staying on here.”

“That's sweet of all of you. But after that buildup by Whit, I have a lot to prove.”

“This isn't a test. You shouldn't worry about passing or failing.”

Cara gave her a gentle smile. “Thanks. I needed that.”

The older woman gave her a long, stern look. “Who did that to you?”

Cara took a step back. “I don't know what you mean.”

“I mean that lack of confidence.” Myrna caught her hand. “Somebody made you feel like you aren't good enough.”

Cara held her silence.

Myrna blew out a breath. “Okay. Whatever happened, you can overcome it. Listen to me, child. Whenever you start to doubt yourself, just remember this. Your best, done with good intentions, is always good enough.”

Cara ducked her head. “Thank you.”

When she looked up, she saw that Myrna was already heading out of the room with another armload of freshly folded clothes.

When Whit and Brady stepped into the mudroom and started peeling off layers of mud-soaked boots and parkas, her heart did a somersault.

She busied herself at the stove to keep from staring at Whit as he washed at the big mudroom sink.

Just seeing him made her day brighter.

“Hey.” Whit stepped into the kitchen, followed by Brady.

“Good morning. There's coffee and juice if you'd like.”

“Coffee.” Whit crossed to the sideboard. “About a gallon of it.”

“I'll second that,” Brady said with a laugh.

Cara poured two steaming mugs and handed one to each of them.

The two men wrapped their hands around the mugs, breathing in the warmth of the kitchen.

“Mmm. This is good.” Whit took a long drink. “It might say spring on the calendar, but somebody forgot to mention it to Mother Nature. It's freezing out there.”

“I'll say.” Brady sauntered toward the door. “I'm taking this with me. I'll have it gone before I hit the shower.”

“Me too.” Whit shivered. “If I don't get out of these wet things soon, I'll turn into an ice cube.”

The two men left the kitchen and climbed the stairs.

When she was alone, Cara let out a long, slow breath. She was going to have to work overtime to keep from glowing every time she caught sight of Whit. There was something about that tall, muscled cowboy that just flat-out made her always want to grin like a fool.

When she saw Myrna walk in and stare at her, she turned away and pretended to be busy with something on the stove. But in truth, she was thinking about Whit upstairs, peeling off his wet clothes and stepping naked into the shower.

“You must be working too close to that stove,” Myrna remarked. “Your cheeks are bright red.”

Cara lifted her hands to her cheeks. What was happening to her? She had never before let a guy take over her thoughts this way.

“I was whisking some eggs.”

“Good. We're having scrambled?”

“I thought maybe omelets. With fried potatoes and ham.”

“Even better.” Myrna pulled a fresh apron from a drawer and began tying it around her ample middle. “What can I do to help?”

“Maybe you could start with orange juice.”

“I'm happy to make it.”

Cara laughed. “It's already made. I was thinking you might enjoy taking a breath and having some juice at the table while I finish making the toast.”

Myrna accepted a foamy glass from Cara's hands and settled herself at the table. “Now this is something I haven't done in the morning in more than thirty years.”

“Then it's time you started pampering yourself.”

“Pamper. Huh.” Myrna huffed out a breath.

But as she sat watching Cara move easily from the stove to the counter to the sink, she was wearing a smile. Maybe, just for a minute, she would do exactly that.

Mad and Willow were just pouring coffee when Whit and Brady stepped into the kitchen.

Mad looked over at them. “I heard the backhoe's engine while it was still dark outside. Something wrong?”

“Just your usual early spring routine.” Brady helped himself to coffee. “I think it's a rule of the universe that just when the rains begin, pipes break and roads wash away. Those pipes never burst in the middle of summer, when the job would be easy.”

Whit helped himself to coffee and gave a laugh. “At least the two of us smell a whole lot better now than we did an hour ago.”

“Another rule of the universe,” Mad said with a chuckle. “If you're going to crawl around in the mud, you're not coming up smelling like a rose.”

“Speaking of good smells…” Whit glanced at Cara, filling platters. “Whatever you're fixing, my stomach is already growling with hunger.”

She turned and carried a heaping platter to the table. “Then dig in. I think I made enough for an army.”

As the family gathered around the table, the talk continued about the broken culvert and the need to get it replaced as soon as possible.

Brady held the platter while Willow filled her plate. “Ridley Collins agreed to pull some strings and get the pipe delivered before supper. He thinks it will get here around three this afternoon. If he's as good as his word, I'll owe him big-time. They usually need at least a week to fill an order like ours.”

“So, it looks like we won't be heading up to the hills today?” Willow tasted her omelet and glanced up suddenly. “Oh, Cara. This is heavenly.”

Mad took a taste and arched a brow. “I see you're as good as Whit said, lass. What did you add to these eggs?”

“Mushrooms. Peppers, red and yellow, for color. And a dash of Tabasco sauce.”

“Tabasco?” Mad grinned. “I'm going to remember that.”

As the others around the table filled their plates and remarked on the great food, Myrna turned to Whit. “What will you do until the pipe arrives?”

Whit shrugged. “My time is yours, Myrna. What do you need me to do?”

She gave him a sly smile. “You may want to think about driving Cara to town to buy a few things.”

Cara looked up in surprise. “I don't need—”

Myrna went on as though Cara hadn't interrupted. “Belle's shop over in Copper Creek has everything a girl could want. Denims, simple shirts, pajamas, and even underthings.”

Cara's face flamed as Mad said, “That'll teach you to allow Myrna to do your laundry, lass. Don't think she doesn't remind all of us when our personal items are in need of replacement.”

“And you're lucky I pay attention. There are some here”—she turned to stare directly at Mad—“who would end up naked as the day they were born if I didn't look out for their wardrobes.”

“You're not the only one, Mad,” Willow said with a gentle smile. “Just last week Myrna reminded me that if I didn't soon replace my favorite jeans, I'd feel saddle and a lot of very cold air on my backside.”

That had everyone laughing.

“All right.” Whit helped himself to seconds. “If you're willing, Cara, we'll go right after breakfast.”

Knowing everyone was watching and listening, Cara managed a demure smile, though in truth, she wanted to do a little happy dance. “I guess I'd better agree, or I'll face being shamed into it by Myrna.”

The old woman sat back with a look of smug satisfaction.