The Rebel of Copper Creek (Copper Creek Cowboys)

by R. C. Ryan

  For the space of a heartbeat he saw her eyes widen, as though she was reading his thoughts. And though he hadn’t planned it, and for the life of him he didn’t know how it happened, his mouth was on hers.

  At first it seemed an innocent mistake. But the moment his lips touched hers, everything changed. He was engulfed in heat. The simple kiss was no longer simple. It had fireworks going off in his brain. A brain that had gone completely blank, except for a wild surge of hot, shocking arousal.

  His arms tightened around her as she returned the kiss, and then he could feel himself sinking into her, into the heat…

  “How dare you!” Her words were followed by a sharp, stinging slap across his face as she pushed free of his arms and jerked backward.

  Once again her foot encountered whatever had caused her to stumble the first time, and she was forced to grab hold of his arm before staring down at the floor.

  Beneath her foot was one of the metal trucks.

  Though his mind was still fogged, Griff managed to bend and retrieve it. When he glanced at her, he realized that she was close to tears.

  Sadness?

  Anger? Or something else entirely?

  “Look. I’m sorry…”

  “You should be. I didn’t invite that kiss.”

  “No, ma’am. You didn’t.”

  “I know what men think. They think, because I’m alone now, that I’m some kind of love-starved, easy mark. Poor little widow Juliet Grayson. She’ll be so grateful for some crumbs of affection.”

  “I wouldn’t…I didn’t…” He stopped himself in midsentence. He really had no defense for his action, and anything he said now would only make things worse, since her temper was beginning to grow into a full-blown rage.

  Carefully banking the fire raging inside, he softened his tone. “I don’t know what came over me. But you’re right. I was out of line.”

  He handed her the metal toy before turning away. Even that brief contact sent a sizzle of heat along his arm.

  Though it took all his willpower, he walked the entire distance to the Cessna without once looking back.

  Chapter Four

  Griff made a careful preflight check before climbing into the Cessna and flipping on the instruments.

  He allowed himself a glance at the old ranch house and saw, framed in the upper window, the figure of Casey. The little boy lifted a hand and Griff returned his wave before moving the throttle forward, sending the plane surging along the little strip of asphalt.

  As always, Griff felt a quick rush of excitement as the plane lifted free of the earth. But there was something else lifting his spirits. The sight of that little guy framed in the window. Despite all that had gone wrong in his young life, he was so innocent. So trusting.

  Once in the air Griff circled the house and, seeing Casey still at the window, dipped his wings and waved a hand before heading toward home.

  When he’d reached a comfortable altitude, he allowed his thoughts to drift back to Juliet Grayson.

  What the hell had happened back there?

  One minute he was just being gallant, and keeping her safe from a nasty fall. The next instant his mouth was on hers. It wasn’t even much of a kiss. Hell, he’d kissed dozens of women with a lot more passion. But never, never had he felt that kind of reaction from a simple contact.

  One kiss and his blood had been so hot, he’d been on fire. One kiss and his mind had been wiped clean of everything except her. Her taste. Her body, pressed to his. Such a slender body. No wonder he’d mistaken her for a girl. But once in his arms she’d been all woman.

  Even now he was achingly aware of the way those small, soft curves had fit so perfectly against him.

  She’d tasted of peanut butter and desire. And right now, he couldn’t think of a more potent combination.

  He knew he’d crossed a line from that first moment. But though dozens of alarm bells had gone off, the blood had already left his brain and rushed to his loins, creating a fire that had him trembling.

  She’d had every right to be upset. A woman alone, with two little boys depending on her, had to take extra care to insure her safety. Still, her reaction seemed over the top. Judging from the fire in her words, there was more going on here than mere resentment from his kiss.

  It had seemed to him that she hadn’t so much resented it as feared it. But why? What would make a grown woman afraid of a mere kiss?

  Maybe she’d had to fend off unwanted advances in the past. Or maybe she was feeling guilty for kissing him back. But why?

  Not his business, he reminded himself. If he hadn’t made a rash promise to fly back and allow Casey to sit in the plane, he wouldn’t ever have to see Juliet Grayson again.

  He’d given his word to a lonely little boy. A boy who had touched his heart. Maybe, he thought, because he’d once been that boy.

  Then he thought about Ethan. Looking back at his childhood, he’d been much more like the angry, silent older brother than happy, outgoing little Casey.

  He’d grown up resenting all the classmates who’d had their fathers at their games to cheer them on and celebrate their wins. And he’d resented his mother for not understanding when he’d resorted to his fists, believing that a father would have known exactly what to say to an angry, confused boy.

  Ethan and Casey had a lifetime of moving forward without the solid comfort of a man to lean on.

  There was no doubt about it. Those two fatherless little boys had found his weakness and had shot an arrow straight through his heart.

  So, too, had their mother.

  Juliet tossed and turned in her bed, frustrated at the way her mind refused to shut down for the night. Though she was exhausted beyond belief after a day of never-ending chores, she couldn’t find escape in sleep.

  Not that she’d expected to. Not after that little scene with Griff Warren.

  It was only a kiss. Hadn’t she told herself that a hundred times or more? What was the harm of a simple kiss between a man and a woman?

  She slid out of bed and drew on a robe before padding down the stairs to the kitchen. Turning on the light, she went through the motions of grinding coffee beans and filling the coffeemaker with water. A short time later she poured a steaming cup and sat at the old table.

  She crossed her arms over her chest, thinking about lunch. It had been such a long time since peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with her boys had been anything other than routine. But Casey had become absolutely animated in Griff’s presence. And though Ethan had remained silent and distant, she’d seen him watching Griff when he thought no one was looking.

  She supposed, for two little boys starved for the company of a man, this had been a feast. In truth, it had been pleasant for her, too. She couldn’t recall the last time a man had offered to make coffee or help with the cleanup. Such little things, but they made her feel…special.

  Why did he have to spoil it by kissing her?

  Now she had all these emotions churning inside.

  She pushed away from the table and walked to the window. The midnight sky was black velvet. The stars were so big, so bright here in Montana, they looked more like theatre props. Everything here was so big, so vast, so…overwhelming.

  That was how she was feeling now. Overwhelmed. This huge ranch, needing more than she could possibly give. This strange new life, alone with two little boys, needing more from her than she felt capable of giving. And her promise to Buddy, to do something for his pals who’d survived.

  How was she supposed to do all this when she felt absolutely drained? Running on empty.

  She was giving serious thought to going back to Chicago with her boys. At least there she wouldn’t be a fish out of water. She could get a job. Enroll the boys in day care. But the thought of raising Buddy’s boys anywhere but here, on the land four generations of Graysons had called home, seemed a betrayal to his memory.

  Betrayal.

  She shivered and turned away from the window, pacing the length of the kitchen an
d back. That was what it all came down to. She was trapped here by a promise to a man who was gone now, a man she’d loved more than her own life. And because of that love, she was furious with Griff for kissing her. How could she claim to love Buddy and still feel what she’d felt when Griff’s mouth had touched hers?

  She’d been shaken to her very soul. And still was, if truth be told. All she had to do was think about the way his lips felt on hers, and she was aroused all over again.

  When she’d slapped his face and looked into his eyes, she’d seen something so rare, it had left her trembling.

  Not lust, as she’d expected. But rather, simple honesty.

  Looking back, it seemed to be just as he’d tried to explain. It had simply happened. And if she hadn’t reacted with all that drama, that would have been the end of it.

  It shamed her to admit that her anger had been a cover for her true emotion. In truth, she’d been so caught up in his kiss she’d wanted it to go on and on.

  There had been such strength in him. His arm, when she’d reached for it to steady herself, had rippled with muscles. His chest, when she’d been nearly crushed against it, had been a wall of muscle. But it was more than physical strength. There was a strength of character, a goodness in him, as well. A tenderness that had touched something in her soul. And that she couldn’t allow.

  She didn’t want him coming back here to keep a promise to Casey. She didn’t want him anywhere near her sons or near her. Especially near her.

  She didn’t want to get to know Griff Warren. She didn’t want to like him, or care for him, or, worse, kiss him ever again.

  Because she knew in her heart that though she’d evaded all men since losing Buddy, this man wasn’t like the others.

  This man, with his soulful eyes and simple goodness, could get to her. And that could lead only to heartbreak.

  “Hey, Griff.” Ash and Brenna, who seemed constantly joined at the hip since their marriage, walked into the kitchen arm in arm. Ash helped himself to a biscuit cooling atop the counter, ignoring the hairy eyeball from his grandfather, who was busy flipping eggs in a sizzling skillet.

  “I see your wife didn’t feed you again this morning,” the old man barked.

  “Why bother, when we can finish our chores and still make it here in time for chow?”

  That had Griff grinning from ear to ear. “Why don’t you two just move back into your old rooms? Then you can enjoy Mad’s great cooking for every meal.”

  Ash winked at his wife. “I love my family. And I’d love to ease our workload. But there’s something to be said for having some privacy.”

  Brenna kissed Ash’s cheek and stole a piece of his biscuit out of his hand.

  Whit and Brady, just back from the hills, strolled into the mudroom and washed before taking their places at the table.

  Willow, following behind, kissed her sons and Brenna before helping herself to a cup of coffee. Ash held out chairs for his mother and Brenna, then settled himself between them. He glanced across the table at Griff. “Why weren’t you up in the hills with Whit and Brady?”

  “I took the day off yesterday to fly over to the Grayson Ranch.”

  Willow set aside her cup. “I expect a full report on what’s going on over there.”

  “The rumor in town is the widow Grayson is in over her head.” Ash accepted a platter of eggs and sausage from Myrna. He held it while his wife and mother filled their plates before helping himself.

  “I’m not interested in rumors.” Willow looked at Griff. “You saw for yourself. What’s going on?”

  Griff took his time filling his plate and holding it for Mad before passing it to Whit and Brady. “The ranch is in pretty bad shape. I didn’t see any wranglers around, although Mrs. Grayson said there were a few who were overworked.”

  “And underpaid, I’m guessing.” Mad dug into his breakfast, and the others did the same.

  “How about the Romeos?” Whit asked around a mouthful of biscuit.

  “She had to send them home. Equipment failure.” Griff accepted another cup of coffee from Myrna, who circled the table filling cups before taking her place beside Mad.

  “So you missed the chance to see your buddies,” Whit remarked. “Looks like you flew all the way over there for nothing.”

  “The Romeos were there when I got there. Apparently she does some lectures about exercise and nutrition, but that’s about it when the equipment is down. I couldn’t blame them for being disappointed. One of them, a guy named Sperry who is the apparent leader, was steamed.”

  “So the whole day was a waste.”

  Griff shook his head. “It wasn’t a total washout. I had lunch with two great guys.”

  “Military?”

  “More like junior grade. Extremely junior. Ethan and Casey. One is six, the other three. Or as Casey said, ‘free.’” The very word had Griff chuckling.

  “Buddy’s sons?” Willow exchanged a glance with her father-in-law. “I’d heard there were two boys, but I didn’t realize they were so young. Buddy Grayson’s only been dead for—”

  “—three years, I guess.” Griff met her look. “Casey was born after his father died. Ethan would have been three.”

  “Oh, that poor woman.” Willow set aside her coffee. “I can’t imagine being left all alone to raise two little boys. How do you think she’s getting along, Griff?”

  He took his time setting aside his fork and picking up his cup. “I think she’s having a rough time of it. Imagine inheriting a ranch when you’ve never even been on one before. And doing it without any help.”

  Mad shook his head. “She ought to just put it up for auction and walk away.”

  “Where would she go?” Griff met his grandfather’s look. “She has no family left in Chicago. She wants her sons to grow up on their father’s ranch. And from the looks of it, it’s falling into more disrepair with every day they stay there.”

  Brady Storm broke the silence. “When old Jackie Turner was running things over there, he kept his wranglers hopping. He used to brag that every man in his employ could do the work of five men.”

  Griff turned to Brady. “Know where I could find him?”

  “I heard he went to live with his daughter. She has a little spread a couple of miles past town. I could give you directions to her place.”

  Before Griff could respond, Mad made a sound of annoyance. “Jackie Turner has to be older than me. How can you expect him to up and leave his own kin to clean up a mess somewhere else?”

  Griff said softly, “I’ll take those directions. No harm in asking. All he can say is no.”

  Around the table the others fell silent. Griff could sense that they all felt he was being foolish or stubborn for even considering the idea of following up on an old man who had once been the Grayson Ranch foreman.

  But he didn’t see any other course of action. And as he looked around at his new family, he realized he came by both his foolishness and his stubborn streak naturally.

  The thought had him actually smiling as he thanked Mad and Myrna for the great meal. “I’ll be flying to the Grayson Ranch later today.”

  Mad looked up. “Again? What for?”

  “I promised a ‘free-year-old tenderfoot’ I’d be back to let him sit at the controls of the plane.” He got up and started toward the back door.

  “Where’re you headed now?” the old man called.

  “Time to meet Jackie Turner. If I’m going to face defeat, I’d rather it be sooner than later.”

  Chapter Five

  Griff followed Brady’s directions and left the main highway to turn onto a gravel road. It seemed to stretch for a mile or more before coming up over a rise to reveal a modest ranch house and several barns and outbuildings. Everything sparkled under a fresh coat of paint, including the fence around the horse barn, where several mares and their young looked as if they’d been posed for pictures in a catalog.

  As soon as Griff’s truck came to a halt outside the main barn, a figur
e stepped out to peer at him.

  The man was thin and wiry, standing no more than five and a half feet tall. His legs were so bowed, he could easily fit a giant beach ball between them with room to spare. He wore faded denims, a plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled above his elbows, and a wide-brimmed hat. Beneath the hat was a weathered face and blackbird eyes that widened as Griff stepped out of his vehicle.

  “Creepers! You’ve got to be…” The old man swallowed. “Bear MacKenzie’s other son. You’re the spitting image of him.”

  Since arriving in Copper Creek, Griff had become accustomed to this reaction. People stared at him as if seeing a ghost. And then, as recognition dawned, they would call him “Bear’s other son.” Never “bastard” or “illegitimate.” They were too polite for that.

  The sting of those words had long ago been erased. Now, they were as acceptable as any other greeting.

  “Yes, sir. My name is Griff Warren.”

  “Your mama’s name?”

  “That’s right. I came looking for Jackie Turner. I guess that’d be you.”

  “It is.”

  The two shook hands.

  “What can I do for you, son?”

  “I paid a call on the Grayson Ranch yesterday. I know you used to be foreman there, and I wondered if you’d consider lending a hand to it again.”

  That black, penetrating stare was like a laser. “The young widow send you?”

  “No, sir. She doesn’t know I’m here. But the place needs a steady hand.”

  “What’s that to you?”

  What indeed? The old man’s question had him searching his mind for something that could possibly explain his sudden interest. “I don’t know the Grayson family. I never met Buddy. But I served in the Marine Corps, and I’d like to do something to help a military family in need.”

  Jackie Turner seemed to mull that for some time before saying, “Come on up to the house. We’ll have some coffee and talk.”

  Griff studied the ground below, enjoying the sight of vast hillsides dotted with cattle.