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Authors: R.C. Ryan

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BOOK: The Maverick of Copper Creek

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Jimmy turned to the young woman. “This is Griff Warren. He and I served in Afghanistan together. He left shortly before me. Who'd have believed we'd run into each other here in the middle of nowhere?”

Griff smiled at the young woman. “I'm from the MacKenzie Ranch just over those hills. I guess I'm looking for your mother.”

“My mother?” Her head came up sharply.

“Jimmy said this place belongs to Juliet Grayson.”

“I'm Juliet.”

At her words he couldn't hide his surprise. “But I thoughtâ¦” He swallowed and decided to try again. “Sorry. I was expecting someoneâ¦”

“Older?” She nodded. Though she was trying for sarcasm, her voice betrayed a deep pain. “I guess âthe widow Grayson' confuses some people.” She turned away. “You've come all this way for nothing. I was just telling the Romeos that today's therapy session is cancelled. In fact, it remains cancelled until I get this lift repaired.”

Now that Griff had time to study the lift, he understood. “So this device is used to lift the men from their wheelchairsâ”

“âinto the saddle. Exactly. Until this machine is repaired, everything grinds to a halt.”

“And the repairs aren't handled locally?”

She shook her head. “The company is supposed to be flying the parts in from Helena. At least that's what they've been telling me for the past week. But every day, they come up with another excuse to put me off. When we spotted your plane, we thought we'd finally had some good luck.”

“I'm sorry to get your hopes up and then have them dashed. How about your wranglers? Any of them know a little about electronics?”

She gave an expressive lift of her shoulders. “I didn't think to ask. The few wranglers left are so overworked, they can barely keep up with the day's chores as it is.” She turned to him hopefully. “I don't suppose youâ¦?”

“Sorry. I'm pretty good with my hands. But my specialty is woodworking.” He glanced at the ceiling, considering. “Besides, this isn't something that can be done on a ladder. In order to take a look at that track, the company will need to send along a bucket lift for the repairs.”

She nodded. “I suppose you're right.”

He turned to the two little boys, who hadn't moved. “Yours?”

She beckoned them closer, and when they hurried over to stand on either side of her, she gathered them close and hugged them.

Getting down on her knees, she said, “This is Ethan and this is Casey.”

Griff followed her lead and knelt down so that his eyes were level with theirs.

He turned to the older one. “Hey Ethan. How old are you?”

The boy buried his face in his mother's arm.

Jimmy Gable said in an aside, “The kid doesn't speak.”

“Efan's six.” The younger one held up six fingers. Then he held up three fingers. “And I'm free.”

Griff's smile grew at the little boy's attempt to speak clearly. “Three? And your brother is six? I bet you two are a big help to your mom.”

The younger one nodded. “Efan can pour the milk on our cereal. Mom won't let me 'cause I spill it.” He looked down for a moment while he considered his own skills. “Sometimes I feed the chickens, don't I, Mama?”

“Yes, you do. And you both do a fine job of helping.”

When she got to her feet, Griff noticed that Ethan clung tightly to her leg and refused to look up. Little Casey, on the other hand, was content to stand beside her while he studied Griff with a look of open curiosity.

He tipped his head back to peer up at him. “Are you a giant?”

That had Griff laughing. “No. Sorry. I'm just a man.”

The little boy pointed to the Cessna. “Is that yours?”

“It belongs to myâ¦family.” The word still caused him such a jolt, he had to give himself a mental shake.

“My daddy flied planes,” Casey said proudly.

“Flew,” Juliet corrected.

The little boy nodded. “My daddy flew planes.”

“Did you ever get to fly with him?”

The little boy's eyes grew round with surprise. “I wasn't borned yet. But Efan got to watch, didn't you, Efan?”

The older boy buried his face in his mother's frayed denims.

Juliet turned to the group of men, who'd been watching and listening in silence. “I guess you all know what this means. No lift, no riding. I'm sorry. Whenever Endicott gets this up and running, I'll contact Heywood Sperry, and he'll let the rest of you know. But at least we got in a little talk about exercise and nutrition.”

As the men began moving toward the bus parked outside, they paused beside Jimmy for an introduction to Griff.

“Hank Wheeler.” The heavily tattooed man gave a smart salute. “Any friend of Jimmy's is welcome here.”

“Stan Novak.” Rail-thin, head shaved, the man maneuvered his wheelchair close. “Did four tours of Afghanistan. One too many,” he added as he passed with a wave of his hand.

“Billy Joe Harris” came a Southern twang. The young, bearded man had a face so round it resembled a basketball. His stomach protruded over the waist of his tattered shorts. “I saw you with Jimmy last night at Wylie's.”

“Yeah. Hey, Billy Joe.” Griff shook the man's hand.

A big man in a muscle shirt in red, white, and blue stripes started past Griff in his electric scooter until Jimmy Gable stopped him with a hand to his arm. “Hey, Sperry. Take a minute to say hi to my friend, Griff Warren.”

The man, who from the waist up looked like a bodybuilder, with bulging muscles in his arms, and a lean, chiseled face that might have been handsome if it weren't for his dark, glaring frown, looked Griff up and down before dismissing him completely. “What's he doing here, Gable? He doesn't look to me like he needs therapy.”

“The captain and I served together in Afghanistan. I invited him to come here and meet myâ¦”

The scooter rolled on before Jimmy had finished talking.

The young veteran shot an embarrassed look at Griff. “Sorry. As you can imagine, there are a lot of angry hotheads in the group.”

“No need to explain that to me. I served with guys like that. Remember?”

Jimmy chuckled. “Yeah. I'm just glad you were the one who had to deal with them and not me.” Hearing the sound of an engine roaring to life, he turned his wheelchair away and headed out of the barn. “Gotta go. It's Sperry's bus, so he gets to call the shots.”

“That's some vehicle. Had to cost a few bucks to install that hydraulic lift.”

“Not to mention the custom interior. It's like a rock star's.” Jimmy chuckled. “Rumor is that Heywood Sperry's family has millions.”

“Nothing like flaunting his wealth.”

“Hank Wheeler says Sperry should have painted some rust on the outside as a joke, so folks would feel sorry for us poor old vets.” Hearing the engine, Jimmy started rolling toward the bus. “No time to chat, Captain. Sperry's made it clear that when he says he's leaving, we'd better be aboard or we're left behind.”

Griff frowned. “That's not the way of a Marine.”

“Yeah. But it's Sperry's way. I hope you'll come back another time and watch us in action, Captain.”

“I'll try, Jimmy.”

Griff stood in the barn watching as Jimmy's wheelchair was boarded onto the bus by the hydraulic lift. When all their wheelchairs were secured, the vehicle left in a cloud of dust.

“Can he stay for lunch, Mama?” Casey asked.

Griff turned in time to see the annoyed look on Juliet's face. “I'm sure Griff isn't interested in peanut butter and jelly.”

“Is that what we're having?” The little boy brightened. “I like peanut butter and jelly, don't you, Griff?”

Griff thought about the wonderful ranch meals he'd been enjoying since arriving at his father's home. He hadn't once had anything so simple.

If he hurried, he could join Whit and Brady Storm up in the hills for a close-up lesson on wrangling thousands of cattle on the range in the highlands.

Still, the pull of this angry young woman and her two sons was surprisingly strong. And there was something in his nature that had him enjoying the fact that he could annoy her even more.

“That's one of my favorites, Casey.” He looked at Juliet. “I'd be happy to stay and have lunch with you.”

“Well then. I guess, since you're not my repairman, I have no reason to stay here. We may as well head on up to the house.”

Looking about as happy as a fox caught in a trap, she turned away and steered her sons from the barn.