by R. C. Ryan
That brought a round of laughter from the others, easing the tension.
Relieved to have something else to talk about, Kirby smiled. “I guess I’ve finally found a reason to thank Dr. Peterson for grounding me.”
“Grounding you?” Jonah pounced on the word. “Have you been a naughty girl, Kirby?” He shot a look at his grandmother. “When we were kids and we gave Gram Meg any trouble, she would tell us we were grounded.” He lifted his right hand as though swearing an oath. “Worst punishment ever.”
Brand and Casey nodded in agreement.
“This feels like a punishment. But the doctor said it’s only for a week or so. Just enough time for the bone to heal properly.”
“Good.” Jonah rubbed his hands together. “And then you can join us for barn chores.”
Bo, watching the interaction between Kirby and his three sons, was grinning. “See what you came back to?”
Kirby nodded. “I’d say these three are determined to find a sucker to share the dirtiest jobs around the ranch.”
“You got that right. You need to stay in shape for whenever you take over your uncle’s ranch.” Jonah turned to Casey. “I’ve been doing as you asked and checking on your mustang. She’s still limping, but that wound is clean and healing.”
“That’s a good thing. Thanks, bro.”
Jonah turned to Billy. “Do I have time for a shower before supper?”
“More than enough time.”
“Great.” Jonah snagged a beer before heading toward the stairs.
Billy looked up from the stove. “Brand, are you and Avery joining us?”
Brand shook his head. “I’m meeting Avery at the Powel ranch. She’s working with Jamie until six. We’ll grab something at Nonie’s before heading back here.”
“I heard about Jamie Powel’s tractor accident. How is he doing?” Meg asked.
“Healing nicely. Avery and Dr. Peterson think he’s doing all the right things. Another week or two of therapy, and he should be good as new.” Brand turned to Kirby. “You might want to ask Doc if he thinks you’ll need a little physical therapy when that ankle can take your full weight.”
“He already suggested it. Avery met us at the clinic.”
“See there?” Bo clapped a hand on his oldest son’s shoulder. “She’s a step ahead of you. But I like the way you were drumming up business for your bride.”
“Always.” Brand laughed. “Actually, there’s no need, Pop. The truth is, Avery’s got more business than she can handle. Dr. Peterson suggested she put out a call for some assistants.”
“I can understand why.” Hammond’s remark got everyone’s attention. He stared at Kirby. “After I took a fall, I wanted nothing to do with Avery’s offer of physical therapy. But that woman made a believer out of me.”
Gram Meg nodded. “She did indeed. As I recall, you were convinced that therapy was a waste of your time.”
He shrugged off her remark and aimed his words at Kirby. “Just don’t push yourself, girl. I know it’s hard to take it easy when all you want to do is get back to how things were. But if you follow Doc’s orders and give your body time to heal, you’ll be glad you did.” He paused before changing the subject. “Does Noble Crain think there’s a connection between what happened with your truck and apartment, and that escaped convict?”
His words caused a sudden silence.
Casey was the one to answer. “That was his first instinct. He’ll know more when the state police check for prints at Kirby’s place.”
The thought of a team of investigators going through her personal belongings had Kirby’s heart lurching. She glanced at Casey, seeing his frown of concern.
As the conversation swirled around her, she found herself hoping with all her heart that whoever had done this was caught, and soon. Hammond’s words played through her mind.
I know it’s hard to take it easy when all you want to do is get back to how things were.
She’d come home to Wyoming to start a new chapter in her life. And ever since, it had all gone so wrong.
Before she’d left DC her life had been never-ending stress, and she’d grown weary of the schedule, the congestion, the frantic pace of life. She’d allowed herself to believe that if she returned to Wyoming, life would fall into the simple rhythm she remembered from her childhood.
What if she’d been fooling herself, and this was life’s way of reminding her that she couldn’t come home again?
What if she had just made the biggest mistake of her life?
She looked up as the family burst into laughter, and she realized that Casey had said something funny.
He caught her eye and winked, and she once again felt that crazy reaction she always had whenever they connected.
Casey gave her one last grin before he addressed the family. “I’m heading to the barn to check on my patient.”
Kirby drained her tea and willed herself to relax. The very thought of these good people lifted her up.
For now, this evening, she had food, shelter, and friends who would see to her comfort. And she would hear from her cousin Caroline soon and find out when she could take possession of her uncle’s ranch.
Her ranch, she reminded herself. With the money she’d saved, and enough hard work, she could one day call the ranch hers.
She would concentrate on only the good things in her life. Tomorrow was soon enough to deal with whatever troubles came her way.
“A lovely dinner, Billy.” Meg turned to Kirby. “I think we’ll take our dessert and coffee in the great room. Are you up for it?”
Kirby managed a weary smile. “Thank you, but I think I need to lie down.”
“Of course you do.” Meg looked concerned. “You’ve had quite a day. The guest room is all ready for you, Kirby.”
Before she could push away from the table, Casey was there, lifting her in his arms.
Heat rushed to her cheeks. “Dr. Peterson said I could walk in this boot.”
“Humor me.” He paused at the doorway. “Save me a piece of that chocolate cake, Billy. I’ll be back.”
The others called their good nights as he walked away.
With her arms around his neck, and her face so close she could breathe him in, Kirby forced herself to relax in his arms, though it seemed an impossible task. The nearness of this man did strange things to her, speeding up her heart rate along with her breathing.
She tried to keep things light. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll get used to this?”
Outside her door he turned his face so that his mouth was almost brushing hers. She felt the soft whisper of his breath on her face as his gaze traveled down to her lips, and she was almost afraid her heart would burst out of her chest.
For what felt like an eternity, they shared a heated look before Casey broke the moment, saying, “Maybe you ought to be the one to worry that I’ll get used to this. You may never get to walk on your own again.”
There was that devilish smile again, melting all her resistance.
He nudged open the door and carried her across the room, placing her gently on the edge of the bed. Without a word he knelt in front of her and began removing her hiking boot from her uninjured foot.
She bent down to stop him. “I can do—”
At that same moment he looked up. “I told you—”
For the space of a heartbeat, they froze. Then, she brought her hands to his shoulders, unsure if she was going to pull him in or push him away, but he was already moving in. In slow motion they came together in a hesitant kiss.
The minute their mouths touched, everything changed. Though she’d been determined to resist him, her fingers curled into the front of his shirt, aware of the solid flesh she could feel beneath the fabric. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she wasn’t even aware of the little sigh that escaped her throat.
The kiss deepened, and Kirby wondered if he could hear the thundering of her heart as it beat a wild tattoo in her chest.
“Casey…”
He drew back, his eyes steady on hers. “I know. I need to go.”
She hadn’t even known she’d whispered his name. And now that he’d misinterpreted her meaning, she thought about dragging him back for one more drugging kiss, but he was already getting to his feet.
With a sigh of regret she watched him walk to the door.
He turned. “If you need me, I’m—”
She nodded. “I know. Next door.”
“Or I could…” He stared meaningfully at the bed.
She managed a throaty laugh. “Not going to happen, cowboy.”
“Yeah. That’s what I figured. Good night.”
When the door closed behind him she fell back on the bed and rubbed a hand over her eyes.
Of all the things that had happened today—her truck, her apartment, the doctor’s diagnosis—she ought to be drowning in the depths of depression. Ought to. But right this minute the only thing that mattered was what had just happened between her and Casey.
What kind of magic did he possess? How was it that a simple kiss from that cowboy could lift her up and make her believe everything would be better tomorrow?
Chapter Twelve
Kirby limped down the stairs, taking care to keep as much weight as possible off her injured ankle. After a night of solid sleep, she was feeling a renewed sense of purpose.
Though the walking boot made her gait clumsy, she was grateful the injury hadn’t been any worse, requiring a cast and a pair of crutches. Today she intended to concentrate on all the good things in her life, rather than dwell on what had gone wrong.
Her apartment would be cleaned. Her truck was insured. She had a sympathetic, understanding boss and, best of all, a place to stay until she could return to her apartment. Or, if Caroline made a decision soon enough, she might even be able move into Uncle Frank’s ranch. And best of all, she’d fallen asleep with the taste of Casey still on her lips. That kiss, though fleeting, had done more than anything else to lift her spirits. And, to be perfectly honest, she wanted more.
When she entered the kitchen, she found Liz and Avery sipping coffee, their heads bent in quiet conversation.
“Hey, Kirby.” Avery beckoned her over. “Coffee?”
“Yes. Thanks.” Kirby accepted a steaming mug of coffee and took a long, satisfying drink. “Oh, I needed this.”
The deep rumble of masculine voices could be heard in the other room, signaling the return of the men from their morning chores.
One by one they drifted into the kitchen, making their way to the counter where tall glasses of freshly squeezed orange juice rested on a tray, along with a carafe of hot coffee.
Casey paused beside Kirby, his big hands wrapped around a steaming mug of coffee. His voice was low. Intimate. “How are you feeling this morning?”
Her smile at the sight of him could have lit up the room. “Much better. Thanks to you.”
As soon as the family had gathered at the table Billy began passing platters of bacon and eggs, sliced tomatoes from the greenhouse, and a basket of sourdough toast.
Hearing the slam of the back door, everyone looked up as Chet stepped into the room, slapping his wide-brimmed hat against his leg. “Sorry to interrupt your meal. As soon as you all are finished, I’m going to need some help on the South Road.”
Hammond looked up. “More snow?”
Chet shook his head. “Ice. Yesterday’s sun started a thaw, but then last night’s cold made the melted snow slick. We have a truck on its side. We’ll need the dozer. And maybe a backhoe.”
“Anybody hurt?”
“No. Two of the wranglers were carrying supplies, but they got out without a scratch. I sent a crew up to transfer the supplies to another truck. But we’ll need heavy equipment to get that truck upright. And while we’re at it, we may as well make some repairs to the road and get a load of sand to cover the ice.”
“Do you have time to eat?” Bo asked.
Chet shrugged. “I’ll make time.” He snagged a mug of coffee before taking a seat at the table.
Meg looked over. “How long have you been out there?”
He flexed his cold hands. “Since sunup, when I got the call.”
Hammond remarked, “That’s the life of a rancher. Nothing ever happens at a convenient time. I remember back in fifty-nine or sixty, I was hauling a load of feed in a snowstorm, and my old truck went off the road halfway between town and home. I walked miles to my barn and saddled my old plow horse Jenny. Took me until midnight to right that truck, load up the sacks of feed that spilled all over hell’s half acre, and make it back home. I was barely asleep when it was time to get up and start another day.”
While he reminisced about an incident that had happened more than fifty years before, Kirby listened with rapt attention, loving the image of this lone cowboy taming a slice of wilderness. The others, having grown up hearing Hammond’s stories, ate quickly, nodding from time to time without comment. Soon they were draining their coffee and pushing away from the table, deciding among themselves who would operate the bulldozer and who would drive the backhoe.
Casey paused beside Kirby. “Sorry, but this could take most of the day.”
“Casey, I don’t need a keeper.”
“I know. But I feel—”
“—responsible. I get it. I’m a big girl.” She touched a hand to his. “I know a thing or two about keeping a ranch going, so go and take care of business.”
“Yes ma’am.” He grinned, then followed his brothers and Ham out the door.
When the men were gone Meg said to Avery, “What’s on your agenda today?”
“I’m not seeing any patients until this afternoon. Liz and I thought Kirby might enjoy seeing Liz’s studio.” She turned to Kirby. “It’s out back in the vehicle barn. Care to have a tour?”
“I’d love to.” Kirby got to her feet. “Should we go now?”
“If you’d like.” Avery looked at Liz, who nodded.
“What a grand idea.” Meg brightened. “Mind if I tag along?”
Without waiting for a reply she linked her arm through her daughter’s. “Since this is your tour, Liz, lead the way.”
With a wave to Billy, the four women made their way to the mudroom to pull on parkas and boots before heading toward the barn.
Avery took hold of Kirby’s arm. “We’ll follow a bit slower.” She added with a smile, “And since Chet warned of ice, I intend to keep hold of you until we’re safely inside. You can’t afford another fall.”
“Here we are.” Liz left the others standing in the doorway of her studio while she flipped switches, flooding the space with light.
“Oh.” Kirby spoke the word on a sigh as she took in the bright, airy studio lined with shelves containing hundreds of photographs.
As she began walking slowly along the length of the room, she noted that most of the photos were of the Grand Tetons in full color, showing off the four distinct seasons.
There were herds of deer or wild horses in fields of wildflowers, or surrounded by fiery autumn foliage, while other pictures were in stark relief against a background of endless white snow-clad mountains.
One section of the studio was devoted to black-and-white photographs, which seemed even more dramatic because of their lack of color.
Kirby leaned close to study a portrait of Hammond leading a horse toward a corral. She could see his workworn hands, the lines etched deeply into his leathery face, framed by a battered, wide-brimmed hat.
“Oh, Liz, this is so beautiful.”
Liz crossed to her, and her smile grew as she saw what had caught Kirby’s eye. “Ham is one of my favorite subjects.”
“I can see why.”
As she continued to wander around, she suddenly stopped in midstride to sigh at a photo of Casey kneeling in the mud, tending an injured mustang. This one, in color, exposed a look of tenderness in his eyes as his big hand rested on the horse’s neck.
Liz paused, more interested in Kirby’s reaction than in the photo. “That was
used on the cover of My Wyoming. A reporter wrote a beautiful article about Casey, describing him as the local vet who watches out for the herds of mustangs on his family’s land.”
“I’d love to read it some time.”
“I’ll find you a copy.”
At a little squeal from the other side of the room they looked over.
Avery picked up a box from a worktable. “What are you doing with these old childhood photos of Brand?”
Liz hurried over. “I’m planning on making an album for each of my nephews, starting with their earliest days.” She pointed to the three boxes filled with an assortment of pictures. “There are photos from the old Butcher ranch, where Bo and Leigh had settled with the boys. Then later pictures of Bo and the boys back here after the fire.”
Seeing the question in Kirby’s eyes Liz turned to her mother. “Maybe you’d like to fill Kirby in on the family history.”
Meg nodded. “Years ago, the Butcher property adjoined our land. My son Bo and his wife, Leigh, bought it and were building a new house while living in the original one that was more than a hundred years old. We’d all just left after a lovely Sunday dinner with the family. During the night sparks from the chimney ignited some shingles. It quickly spread through the old wood, and though Bo and the three boys escaped, Leigh didn’t make it.”
“How terrible.” Kirby put a hand over Meg’s.
“What made it even worse was the fact that Bo believed that the fire might have been helped along by Des Dempsey, whose father owned the bank in Devil’s Door.”
“Why would Bo think such a terrible thing about the local banker?”
“Des and Leigh were engaged, until Leigh met Bo. When she and Bo married, the Dempsey family let it be known that their banking services were closed to our family. That could mean death to a rancher, who often has to take out hefty loans to operate in hard times. To survive, we’ve been forced to do our banking in Stockwell, more than fifty miles away.”
“Did Bo report his suspicions to the police?”
Meg nodded. “Even though an insurance inspector deemed the fire ‘of unknown origins,’ without a police force or regular fire department in those days, nothing was investigated, and the incident forgotten by everyone except us. To this day, Bo believes the fire was set by Des Dempsey, though he can’t prove it.”