The Legacy of Copper Creek

by R. C. Ryan

  “Come on.” Whit slung his saddlebags over his shoulder and turned toward the house. “Time for you to meet the family.”

  Chapter Eight

  Hey, Mad.” Whit paused in the doorway of the mudroom, where he’d hung his saddlebags and wide-brimmed hat before prying off his boots and washing his hands at the sink. “I see your scooter finally came.”

  At the sound of Whit’s voice, the old man turned a sleek red electric scooter from the stove to face his grandson. “That it did, laddie. Isn’t it dandy? And just look at how easy it is to operate.” He turned the scooter this way and that at the touch of a button. “Where has this thing been all my life?” He rolled closer. “You’ve been gone long enough, laddie. Got socked in by that blizzard up in the hills, did you?”

  “Yeah. Dumped a ton of snow up there. But it’s melting as fast as it fell.” Whit turned, revealing Cara behind him. “Mad, this is Cara Walton. Cara, my grandfather, Maddock MacKenzie. Everyone calls him Mad.”

  “Well. Hello, lass.”

  “Hello, Mad.” She continued to hang back until the old man extended his hand, forcing her to step around Whit and accept his handshake.

  Whit indicated the small, plump woman just entering the kitchen. “And this is Myrna Hill. Myrna, this is Cara Walton.”

  “Lovely to meet you, Cara.” Myrna placed a stack of neatly folded dish towels in a drawer before offering a hand.

  “So, lass.” Mad chuckled. “Did you fall from the sky with the snow?”

  Cara laughed in delight. “I like that better than the truth. Mind if I use that explanation?”

  “Not at all.” The old man waited a heartbeat before asking, “So where did you meet my handsome grandson?”

  “Handsome?” Whit puffed up his chest with a sly grin. “That’s a new one, coming from you.”

  Myrna huffed out a breath. “Ira Pettigrew told him just yesterday that you remind him of Mad, and the old fool has decided that the two of you are the best-looking ones in the family.”

  “And isn’t that the truth, lad?” Mad threw back his head and roared.

  Instead of joining his laughter, Whit’s look sharpened. “What was Ira doing here? Does he have some news about Pop’s murder?”

  “Sorry, lad. No. He was just clearing up some facts with your mother.”

  Just then, Willow walked into the room and hurried over to hug her youngest son. “Did you get enough time to yourself during the blizzard?”

  “Not much.” With his arm around his mother’s shoulders, Whit turned to Cara. “Mom, I’d like you to meet Cara Walton. Cara, my mother, Willow.”

  “Mrs. MacKenzie.”

  “Please, call me Willow. How very nice to meet you, Cara.”

  “I invited Cara to spend some time here. I hope that’s all right.”

  Willow squeezed his arm. “You know you never have to ask. Your friends are always welcome here.” She glanced at the clock on the wall. “If you’d like to show Cara to a guest room upstairs, you’d better do it before everyone gets here.” She turned to Cara to explain. “Once the whole family gets here for supper, it tends to become sheer bedlam. So I’d advise you to unpack and settle in before supper.”

  Cara glanced at Whit, hoping he could explain her lack of luggage.

  “Cara’s traveling light, Mom. There’s nothing to unpack.”

  Willow paused only a beat before turning to the young woman with a bright smile. “No problem. Until you can get into town and pick up a few things, you can certainly find whatever you need here. The guest room is fully stocked with toothpaste, shampoo, and even a computer, if you need to contact anyone.”

  “Thank you, Mrs.…Willow. That’s very generous of you.”

  “Cara, while you’re here, please make yourself at home.”

  The back door opened and tall, handsome Ash MacKenzie and his wife, Brenna, hurried inside. While Ash held the door, Brenna tugged on a leash and their pup Sammy burst inside and hurried over to lick Mad’s hand.

  “See who he runs to first?” Obviously delighted, the old man bent down to scratch behind the pup’s ears.

  “That’s because you always slip him food under the table. Sammy knows exactly what he’s doing.”

  “And who butters his bread. Or in this case, who cuts him chunks of prime rib.”

  Whit kissed his sister-in-law’s cheek before handling the introductions. “Cara Walton, this is my brother, Ash, and his wife, Brenna, and their baby, Sammy.”

  “Hello. It’s nice to meet you.” She shook hands before bending down to rub Sammy’s head.

  He rewarded her with a long, wet kiss.

  As she straightened, the door opened yet again and another handsome cowboy stepped inside carrying a little boy, while his wife and her older son followed.

  “Hey, Griff. Juliet.” Whit stepped forward and hugged Ethan before taking the younger one from his brother’s hands. “And Casey. I’ve only been gone a couple of days, and you got bigger.”

  “I’m a big boy now, Uncle Whit,” little Casey said.

  “You’re two, right?”

  “Uncle Whit.” The boy’s eyes went wide. “You know I’m free.” He held up three fingers, causing Whit to chuckle at their little joke before setting Casey on his feet.

  “Cara Walton, meet my other brother, Griff; his wife, Juliet; and their sons, Casey and Ethan.”

  After greeting the adults, Cara dropped to her knees in front of the two little boys. “Hello, Casey and Ethan. I know how old you are,” she said to Casey. “How old are you, Ethan?”

  “Efan’s six.” Casey held up six fingers. Then, before he could say more, he caught sight of Sammy across the room and let out a shriek as he raced toward the puppy.

  Whit caught Cara’s hand. “My mom warned you. It’s about to turn into bedlam here. Come on. I’ll show you your room.” He turned to his grandfather. “How much time do we have until supper?”

  “An hour, more or less.”

  “Good.” Whit grinned. “I might spend the entire hour under a hot shower.”

  “This is your room.” Whit opened the door and stood aside to allow Cara to precede him.

  She stared around with a look of wonder. “This is the guest room?”

  “One of them. We actually have four more. And we need them when the whole family decides to spend the night.”

  “Do they do that often?”

  “Probably not as much as they’d like. With ranch chores, it’s hard to stay away from their own places very often. But if the weather takes a turn, it’s nice to know they can all bunk here comfortably.”

  “This is way more than comfortable.” She looked around at the big bed covered in a down comforter, with a soft heather throw at the foot. Across the room was a floor-to-ceiling window allowing a magnificent view of the hills, dotted with cattle. In front of the window was a desk and chair and, atop the desk, a laptop computer.

  A huge flat-screen TV stood on a long, sleek cabinet, and to one side was a lovely upholstered chair.

  Whit crossed the room and opened a door to reveal a bathroom fit for royalty. Dove-gray tile floor led to a white marble countertop, a glass-enclosed shower big enough for half a dozen, and a tub that looked so inviting, Cara nearly wept.

  She turned to Whit, who was watching her reaction. “Oh, Whit, this is so much more than I could have dreamed. I can’t wait to fill that tub with precious, wonderful, warm water. I thought I’d never be warm again.”

  “I know what you mean. But remember what Mad said. We have an hour. Then we’ll have to return to the chaos downstairs.”

  As he stepped from the room, she was laughing. “After a long bath, I’ll be ready for anything.”

  Cara leaned her head back against the towel she’d folded behind her neck. After the time spent in the hills, this place was paradise. The bathroom was steamy from the tub filled to the top with hot water.

  Willow had made good on her promise. Everything Cara could want or need had been stored in the
elegant glass-fronted cabinets. From shampoo to toothpaste to bubble bath to lotions, she had her choice of the best.

  She lifted an arm from the water and started to laugh. “I’ve turned into a prune.”

  With a sigh, she stepped out of the tub and wrapped herself in a fluffy towel. After drying off, she made her way to the bedroom, expecting to put on the filthy clothes she’d worn on the trail.

  To her surprise, her clothes had been washed and carefully folded atop the dresser.

  “Myrna?” she wondered aloud.

  Of course. That sweet old woman had heard her say she had no luggage and had generously taken it upon herself to make certain she wouldn’t be embarrassed by wearing soiled clothes.

  She slipped into her underthings that were now whisper-soft and then into the plaid shirt and faded denims she’d been living in for so long. They not only felt clean, but they also smelled sunshine fresh.

  After towel-drying her hair, she ran a brush through the springy curls that were already spilling around her face and shoulders. A glance at her watch told her there was no time to fuss.

  At a knock on her door, she hurried over to find Whit, freshly shaved, his hair still glistening with droplets. He was wearing fresh denims and a plaid shirt and a smile that deepened when he took a long, slow look at her.

  “You clean up nice, Goldilocks.”

  “You’re not bad yourself. You’ve gone from hairy, smelly Papa Bear to a handsome cowboy.”

  “Handsome? Why, little lady, it seems you and my grandpa think alike.”

  At his terrible imitation of an old-time cowboy, she chuckled. “Don’t let it go to your head, MacKenzie. I’m sure by tomorrow you’ll be back to looking more like Papa Bear.”

  He caught her hand. “Come on. Time to face la familia.”

  As they descended the stairs, they could hear voices raised in laughter. Above the din came the shrieks of two little boys chasing after an energetic puppy, while Juliet could be heard cautioning the boys to slow down before someone got hurt.

  “Every mother’s famous words,” Whit said in her ear. “It means her patience is wearing thin, and if they don’t slow down soon, she’ll be the one putting the hurt on them.”

  When they stepped into the kitchen, both Whit and Cara were laughing so hard, they failed to notice the way the entire family was studying them.

  From his vantage point across the room, Mad winked at Brady Storm, who was sharing a beer with Ash and Griff.

  Brady merely grinned and took another swig of beer.

  Both men noted the way Whit was holding Cara’s hand. Realizing they were the object of interest, Whit released her hand and asked, “I see beer, lemonade, and milk on Myrna’s tray. What’s your pleasure?”

  “Lemonade.” As Whit made his way to the counter, Cara headed toward Myrna. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

  Myrna straightened and placed a tray on a hot pad. “Oh, don’t you look fresh.”

  “And all thanks to you.” Cara ran a hand over the crisp sleeve of her shirt. “That was so kind of you, Myrna.”

  “I’m happy to do it. When I was a girl, I traveled to some of those range shacks, hauling meals to the wranglers. They were pretty primitive. I doubt they’re much better now.”

  “They’re shelter from a storm, and for that I’m grateful.”

  “And now you have even more shelter. I hope you’ll enjoy your stay.”

  Whit crossed to them and handed a frosty glass of lemonade to Cara. “What secrets are you two sharing?”

  “If we told you, they wouldn’t be secrets.” Cara smiled at Myrna before following Whit across the room to join the others, who were arguing everything from the wild weather to the latest news in town.

  Cara stood back listening and found herself thinking that all these strangers and all these raised voices were just about the sweetest sounds she’d ever heard.

  “Okay.” Mad turned his scooter from the stove. “Supper’s ready. Let’s get to it while it’s hot.”

  Still discussing ranch and weather news, the family moved easily to the big farm table, where Mad and Myrna were busy setting out steaming platters.

  Whit led Cara to the far side of the table and held her chair before sitting beside her.

  With Willow and Brady at one end and Mad and Myrna at the other, the rest of the family filled in on either side, with Ash and Brenna alongside Whit and Cara and Griff and Juliet on the other side, with Ethan and Casey between them.

  Before anyone could say a word, little Casey reached out a hand to his mother and brother and watched as the others around the table followed his lead and reached out to those on either side.

  The little boy turned to Cara. “Now that me and Efan—”

  “Ethan and I,” his mother corrected softly.

  “Oh, yeah. Now that Efan and I have a daddy and all this big family, we’re learning to say a blessing.” He lifted pleading eyes to Cara. “Do you know any blessings?”

  “I might know one or two. I lived with my gram, and she insisted that we always say a blessing before eating.”

  The little boy looked relieved as he turned to his mother. “Can Cara say the blessing tonight?”

  “I think that would be fine.” Juliet nodded toward Cara.

  Her cheeks bright pink as she felt the others watching and listening, she clasped Whit’s hand and said the words she’d always said at home. “Bless this food, and all of us here to enjoy it.”

  Oh, Gram, she thought. I can hear your voice, saying these very words. A feeling of warmth flooded through her. As though Gram had just wrapped her arms around her and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek. And why not? Hadn’t Cara believed that her grandmother would always be around to watch over her? Somehow, in the past year, she’d lost her faith. But now, here in this room, with these good people, she experienced a flood of happy memories.

  As an afterthought, she added, “And bless those who are no longer with us, but who live forever in our hearts.”

  When she looked up, Willow was blinking rapidly. Cara had forgotten for a moment about this family’s terrible loss, still so fresh in their hearts and minds.

  She felt a quick sizzle of alarm until Mad called, “Well done, lass. I couldn’t have done better myself. Now pass the potatoes.”

  Chapter Nine

  Whit.” Ash helped himself to a sizzling steak from the platter before passing it on. “You haven’t heard the latest gossip about Luther.”

  In an aside, Whit explained to Cara, “Luther Culkin is the scourge of Copper Creek. If there’s trouble, you can be sure Luther’s part of it.”

  “And probably the ringleader,” Ash added. “Anyway, Luther got liquored up and decided it would be fun to help himself to some of Rita’s carrot cake. At three in the morning. So when he gets to her shop and finds the doors locked and the lights out, he just figures why not smash a window and let himself in? After all, in Luther’s world, rules are meant to be broken. When the alarm went off, Chief Ira Pettigrew got the call to investigate. He was mad as a hornet when he found Luther drunk and sitting on the floor of Rita’s shop, protesting his innocence. Luther claimed somebody else broke in and he was just staying there to protect Rita’s baked goods until somebody could come and lock it up.”

  Cara asked innocently, “If there weren’t any witnesses, how did the police chief know he was lying?”

  “I guess the first clue,” Ash said with a wink to the others, “was Luther’s hands were covered with carrot cake and gooey frosting.”

  “That would do it for me,” Willow said with a laugh.

  “But there’s more.” Ash was enjoying his story now and laughing between every word. “Ira noticed a bag on the floor beside Luther, who was still too drunk to stand. Inside the bag was another carrot cake. I guess Luther figured he’d save himself the trouble of coming back during regular business hours and buying something for his sweet tooth tomorrow.”

  “So how long will Luther be in jail this time?” Whi
t asked.

  “He got out the next day.”

  When Whit shot him a look of surprise, Ash rolled his eyes. “Rita refused to press charges. Talk in the town is that she has a history of being attracted to troublemakers. Her last husband lost their ranch to a gambling addiction and had to declare bankruptcy. That’s why she opened the shop, hoping her skill as a baker could keep her head above water. I just hope she doesn’t lose her head, and her profits, to Luther.”

  Mad shook his head. “They say there’s someone for everyone.”

  Ash merely grinned. “There were some in town who thought that about us.” He leaned close to brush a kiss on Brenna’s cheek. “I was the town bad boy for leaving, and Brenna was a fool for taking me back.”

  At Cara’s arched brow, Brenna leaned over to pat her hand. “Remind me to tell you about it sometime.”

  Mad helped himself to a second portion of steak and garlic potatoes, liberally covered with mushroom gravy. “I don’t think I told all of you about old Abe Parson over in Red Rock.”

  At the mention of the town, Cara’s head came up sharply.

  “Isn’t he the rancher who sold you that bull that broke through a fence and ran clear to the highway?” Ash paused to look over at his grandfather.

  “That’s him. When the bull ran away again, poor Abe had to buy him back just to save face. Turns out that bull was determined to live out its life on Abe’s ranch. Though Abe and I weren’t close, we kept in touch.”

  “What about him?” Willow looked across the length of the table toward her father-in-law.

  “Got himself killed. A single bullet in the back.”

  At that, there was a collective gasp around the table. Everyone, without saying a word, was thrust into the moment when they’d first heard about Bear.

  Brady asked the question that was on everyone’s mind. “Do the state police think there’s any connection between Abe’s murder and Bear’s?”

  Mad glanced at his daughter-in-law, seeing her look of shock and pain. “Ira was on it as soon as he got the news, hoping it might be the answer we’ve been waiting for. He spoke directly with the police chief in Red Rock, who said he’d interviewed Abe’s nephew. Apparently the nephew had assumed he’d inherit the ranch. He was furious when he learned that he’d been disinherited.”