The Lawman's Promise (Buttermilk Valley Book 2)

by Rhonda Lee Carver

  “Actions speak louder than words,” she said.

  “I hear ya.” He dipped his hat and turned toward the door, needing to get away fast. He just needed to leave. The screeching of the screen door was like a nail shooting through his head.

  “Duff?” she said softly.

  He stopped with the door open and looked back at her. She was a perfect image for beauty—but he had to keep his hands off, couldn’t dream of picking up where they left off. “Yes?”

  “Why?”

  “Why what?’

  “Why did you come back now?”

  He shrugged. “There comes a point when a man needs home, and for me, Buttermilk Valley is that place. By the way, glad you still wear the ring.”

  Confusion marred her features before understanding made her eyes light up. She looked down at the ring, rolling it around her finger. “I just found it and stuck it on.”

  “In a way, it’s like we’re still married.” He winked.

  “Not hardly.”

  “At least you didn’t burn it like my other things. That Spiderman shirt was my favorite.” He smiled, let the door close behind him and headed for his truck. He had a good feeling he’d be seeing a lot more of Blake. Unfortunately, not for personal reasons, but for official business.

  CHAPTER THREE

  DUFF PARKED HIS truck near the barn and slid out. His boots kicked up a cloud of dust as he strolled to the fence where a horse whinnied at him as if asking for food or a nuzzle behind the ear. Duff was always willing to oblige if he could. “Hey there, pretty.” He gave the mare a pat on the neck. When he pulled his hand away, she snorted in rejection. “Sorry, I shall return soon.”

  Inside of the barn, he found his dad scooping feed into small buckets. “Need any help, Pop?”

  Ross lifted his head. He was in great shape for a man who’d had a heart attack and was in his late sixties. “Nope, almost finished.” He dropped one more scoop into a container and closed the feed lid.

  Standing to his full height of five foot seven, Ross was shorter than most men, and Duff had been taller by the time he was a teen. He’d gotten his stature from his mom’s side who had brothers well over six foot. Ross stretched out the kinks in his back and squinted. “You having back issues again?” Duff asked.

  “Who told you that?” His father groaned.

  The old man never talked about his ailments. “Kelly told me you fell a while back and hurt yourself, so don’t bother denying it. Let me carry those buckets.”

  “You’re still in your uniform, son.”

  “It’ll wash.” He picked up the buckets, one in each hand, and easily carried them to the back of the cart that his father drove into the fields to feed the cows. “How’s the pregnant mare?”

  “She’s holding up.” Ross pulled off his gloves and pushed them into the front pocket of his worn denim overalls. Duff couldn’t remember a time when his dad wore something besides the comfortable standbys. “Vet was by today, said Honey’s a trooper. If you feed her the mixture of oats that has the extra nutrition she needs, I’ll run this feed out to the cows. Won’t take me long. Then come on up to the house. I have dinner waiting for us.”

  “Where’s Kelly and the kids?”

  “They have some painting class they attend every week. She said something about connecting with the kids through art, or something like that. Oh…maybe you didn’t know, but Blake’s the instructor. The twins love her.”

  “No, had no clue.” Last he heard, Blake had gone to college to be an art teacher, and that news came from Kelly. His dad wasn’t much of one to pass along information and Duff had never wanted to seem overly concerned on what Blake was doing. Pride had made him an idiot. “Okay. You take care of the cows, and I’ll take care of Honey.”

  As he carried the bucket of oat mixture down to Honey’s stall, a brown head popped up, giving him a loud snort in greeting. The pregnant mare then butted her head against the rail and whinnied. He loved horses, been around them since before he could walk, but there was something about this one that set her apart from the rest. Maybe it was her friendliness or her chocolate brown gaze, but as a kid he’d had a mare that was a lot like her. He’d left her too when he went into the Marines and she’d passed away a few years later. He nuzzled Honey behind the ears and patted her neck.

  “I know, girl. It’ll all be over soon and you’ll have a youngin’ that’ll make it all worthwhile.”

  As though she understood him, she lowered her head through the wide slabs and pressed her nose against Duff’s leg. He stroked her neck.

  “I think I’m in trouble, girl. There’s a woman, you see. Not just any woman, but one who has been on my mind since well before I knew what men and women do behind closed doors.” He blew out a long breath. Honey snorted loudly. “Yeah, I agree. Boys will be boys. But I saw her today and wow…just wow. She’s still amazing. Beautiful, smart and a hellion.”

  He kicked the bucket lightly with his boot. “She makes me think real hard. Maybe I should have never left town without forcing her to hear me out. Maybe things would be different now.”

  A whimpering sound brought his and the horse’s head around in curiosity. Old dog Jett stood in the open doorway, his tongue hanging out on the side of his mouth and his short tail wagging.

  “Are you jealous?” Duff laughed. Jett was his dog. He found him abandoned on his front step when he was a puppy. He was starving and had suffered contusions from a recent beating. Duff had taken him to the vet and then brought him home. They’d been in each other’s life for the past five years and Jett was a loyal friend—and protective. “You like being out here with all of this space to run, don’t you, boy?” Duff patted him on the side.

  He finished preparing the feed in the stall and Honey ate a healthy amount. Once things were put away, he headed to his truck, calling for Jett and the dog jumped up inside, settling himself on the passenger seat, his head hanging out the open window. Up at the old farmhouse, Duff told Jett to ‘stay’ on the porch and inside he found his dad stirring a large, steaming pot on the stove. The savory smell made Duff’s stomach growl. “Is that what I think it is?”

  Ross smiled. “My award winning chili.”

  “Damn, I’m a lucky man.” Duff rubbed his stomach. “Give me a minute to change and wash up. I’ll be down quicker than you can ladle that grub into bowls. Can’t wait to dig in.” He heard bowls clattering as he hurried up the stairs and down the hall to his childhood bedroom that hadn’t changed a bit since he left at eighteen. Since he’d arrived six days ago, he’d been contemplating the idea of putting away his high school football and track trophies, his posters of bands and a concert shirt he’d nailed to the wall. He guessed he’d get around to it eventually. His gaze naturally targeted the picture stuck between the mirror and the frame of his dresser. Blake’s pretty face smiled at him from the shiny paper. She’d grown into her large eyes, her big smile, and she’d developed in places that no man could ignore.

  After visiting her today, he’d gone back to his office for a few hours, but he couldn’t concentrate on anything. He’d spilled his cup of coffee all over a file and he’d accidently called several people ‘Blake’. The entire town over the age of twenty knew the history between Duff and his high school sweetheart so they’d just smiled and left his office. They’d handled it better than he did. He realized he was a danger to himself and left for home before he screwed up royally.

  He tore his gaze away from the picture, changed his clothes and headed back downstairs, finding his dad ladling each of them a large bowl of the chili. Duff took a seat at the end of the table, his spot when he was a kid. He grabbed his spoon and dug in, but felt a heated glare. He looked through the steam and found his dad’s twisted expression. “What?”

  “Since when did you stop praying before you eat, son?”

  Duff laid down his spoon and brought his hands together. Once the prayer was over, he spooned up a large helping and burned his mouth. He drank half of his sweet tea in
one gulp. His dad was laughing at him.

  “Slow down there, son. Tell me about your day.”

  “Well, I met Gunnar Knox today. He seems like a pretty great guy.”

  Ross nodded. “Grace seems happy since they married and had the baby. It wasn’t easy when her husband was murdered, then finding out Cooper was involved.” He sighed. “We were all shocked.”

  “He has started up a private security business and wanted to ask me a few questions. I’ll be helping where I can, maybe even do a few contracting jobs for him at times.”

  “Just don’t sink yourself in work, son.”

  “Dad, do you think I made a mistake by coming back here?” he asked.

  Ross sighed. “A mistake in coming home? Finding a man’s roots is never a mistake.”

  Duff nodded. “Everyone in town’s been pretty welcoming, except for one.”

  “So you saw Blake today?” Ross laughed.

  “I guess I thought time would soften the impact.” He took another bite, glad it didn’t burn this time.

  “Some resentment stays hidden deep.”

  “Meaning?”

  “I think we all thought you and Blake would marry, have a couple of kids…but I guess things change. People change.” Ross dipped his bread into the chili.

  “I went into the Marines. It’s not like I joined a convent.”

  “If you say so.”

  “So whose side are you on, Pops?” He suddenly lost his appetite. He didn’t come back home to be made to feel guilty for following his dreams.

  “I’m on nobody’s side, son. There are no sides to pick. You know I’ve always thought the world of her family, including Blake. She visited quite often, helped out Kelly a time or two.”

  Duff realized he wasn’t going to get any kudos from his dad. “Can you tell me what’s going on between Ethan Branson and her? I have a feeling things are pretty heated between them.”

  Ross’s jaw tightened. “Ethan is buying up everything, and since he’s running out of businesses to grab, he’s moving on to people. Since the McKenzie Farm butts up next to Branson’s property, of course old man Branson had his eye on the property for a long time. When Ethan couldn’t get Blake to marry him, I guess he decided her land would ease the raw anger, or embarrassment, of her rejection. Of course, this had never been made public, but it’s pretty obvious he’s a scorned man.”

  Duff squeezed the spoon so tight that he felt a pain shoot through his fingers. He opened his hand and realized he’d bent the utensil. “Ethan and Blake?” The names fell off his tight lips.

  “Several years ago. That’s old news, but the argument between them is current news. Hell, I’m not saying I don’t like the Branson boy. I remember he spent more time here than he did at his own house. Whether it’s the trauma of his brother’s death, his dad’s health decline, or the simple fact that he has gotten accustomed to having all of that money, or it could be all three, but he’s gotten a big head. I know your friends with him, son, so maybe you can talk some sense into him. If something doesn’t change, I’m afraid he’ll get what he wants.”

  “And what’s that?” Duff pushed his bowl away.

  “Blake, or something that she loves dearly.”

  “Her farm?”

  “That’s what I’m thinking.” Ross shook his head.

  Duff pushed back his chair, the legs squeaking across the floor, and he stood up. “Crazy Buttermilk Valley.” He sniffed loudly.

  “Where are you going, boy?”

  “I need fresh air. I bet there’s some work that needs done down at the barn.” He grabbed his hat from the hook and smashed it onto his head. “That is if you don’t mind finishing up your dinner alone.”

  “You won’t get no argument from me,” Ross said with a chuckle. “Why don’t you take Honey out for some fresh air too and clean up her stall. A good mucking always makes a man forget his troubles.”

  “Sure, I just love to clean up shit.” Duff stepped out the door, stomped across the porch and marched toward the barn.

  Hell, he wasn’t sure why he felt like his father had sunk a blade into his gut when he said that Ethan and Blake had been an item. What if Ethan had gotten his way and they’d married? There went that knife again, sinking deeper. Why did it bother him so damn much? He’d never kidded himself into believing he would be Blake’s only love—or lover. He’d been gone twelve years. That’s a long time. Yet, Ethan and Blake? He compared that to oil and water, or a baboon and a panda. It just wasn’t right—or maybe that was what he wanted to believe.

  And why the hell didn’t she mention that fact to him while he was at her farm?

  Probably because it’s none of your business.

  He snorted. Well, he felt for damned sure that it was his business. After all, as the lawman of the town, he needed to know the ins and outs. Every detail mattered in one way or another.

  Hell, I’m grasping for straws.

  Maybe he’d made a mistake by coming back. Although he hadn’t been back long, he wasn’t sure if he belonged here any longer. Having been away, living a life many here would never understand, he wasn’t sure where he’d fit in where people didn’t lock their doors at night. And, he wasn’t sure if the town was big enough for him and Blake. After today, he wondered if being her friend again was even an option.

  Yet, leaving wasn’t an option either.

  Fact was, he loved Buttermilk Valley. Especially loved this ranch—his home. He grew up taking care of the horses, spending his day outdoors, getting his hands dirty. It all welcomed him, the smell of fresh hay that wafted under his nostrils, the sound of the wind singing its own tune, the horses hooves pounding the land hard as they raced along the fence.

  He also felt a sense of pride as he pulled on the sheriff’s uniform for the first time, although being sheriff here had never been in the plan for his future. He truly wanted to maintain order in town, although a dog crapping in a neighbor’s yard wasn’t exactly hardcore criminal. Nothing like being a Texas Ranger. The work had been a challenge and rough at times, but always satisfying bringing down the bad guy. He’d been rethinking his future, missing home, when Kelly had called two months ago to tell him that their father had a heart attack. He took it as a sign that it was time to come home, something he hadn’t done much of over the years. The fact that Buttermilk Valley needed a new sheriff was either a twist of fate or pure coincidence, but either way, the job seemed to fall into his lap. He’d started arrangements to transfer his life from Texas back to Georgia, and now here he was.

  He liked working the land and things had really grown here. The cattle business was thriving.

  Duff had been thinking about doing what he’d wanted to do since he was a kid, breed and raise Appaloosas. Ross seemed on board with the idea, and Duff had a chance to sit down and look at the books, pleased at where they were financially. He’d managed to save back a good amount over the years and it would be plenty to start his dream into motion. He even wanted to hire on a few more hands, giving his dad a break, but the man refused so far. Duff planned to work on the idea and his dad would come around.

  He stopped and looked into the distance where pasture met the edge of the woods. He hadn’t explored the property beyond the clearing since he’d been back, but he was anxious to check things out, maybe even put some more thought into building the house he’d envisioned. A man needed a place to call his own. A place to hang his hat and park his boots. He also needed a partner to make his life better. He had a few voids in his life that his career wouldn’t fill. Although he wasn’t a monk, and he’d had his fair share of women, his nights were spent mainly alone in bed. He’d made it his rule to never spend the night with a woman because breakfast should only be shared with the one a man loves. Crazy as it was, that was how he felt.

  Maybe there was more to his beliefs. Maybe a petite, feisty woman had sunk her claim in his heart long ago and he’d never been able to reach deep enough to pull the chains free—or shoot it with a dose of Novocain.


  Inside of the barn, after he’d taken Honey out into the pasture, he mucked out the stalls and dumped the horse manure from the wheel barrow, continuing to think of his situation. At his age, it was a good time for him to start thinking of his prospects. He didn’t feel the pressure of making plans, but there was a nagging feeling in the back of his mind, pounding at his skull, making him face many questions of what he wanted—who he wanted. He had always been a man who liked having control of his surroundings, keeping things together, but at the moment, he wasn’t in control of anything. Indeed, he was driving a truck without a steering wheel.

  No plans had to be made today. Nothing needed cemented.

  He leaned against the fence and stared out into the quiet. He liked the silence. It had a calming effect, and he hadn’t been this relaxed in years. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, exhaling slowly. An image of Blake formed behind his lids, her long curly hair and flashing eyes sabotaged his every brain cell. He didn’t like where things were between them, didn’t like being this close to her, and yet so far. He didn’t expect her to invite him for dinner or ask him for a drink, but they’d been best friends, lovers, confidants. Could they put the past aside and find a common ground?

  His cell buzzed in his pocket. He removed his gloves, pulled the phone free and looked at the screen. He didn’t recognize the number. “Hello?”

  “Duff?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s Blake.”

  Of course, he’d recognize that whispery soft voice anywhere. He was just surprised as hell that she was on his phone. “How’d you get this number?”

  “Ross gave it to me. Look, I know you’re not at the office, but I have a situation. Do you think you could come out to the farm this evening? I’ll explain when you get here.”

  No hesitation. “I’ll be there soon.”

  Duff didn’t even think twice, or that he needed to shower before he got into his truck and headed toward the McKenzie Farm. He wasn’t sure what she needed, but she sounded anxious over the phone and he hurried a little faster than usual.