The Rebel of Copper Creek (15 page)

“Just a minute of your time, laddie.”

Before Griff could ask, the old man fixed him with a look. “You've got strong feelings for Juliet.”

“What makes you think—?”

Mad held up a hand. “I've got eyes. I see how you look at her. You've been devouring her like my apple pie.”

Griff straightened. “I don't see that it's any of your business.”

“It's my business when she's a guest under this roof. If that isn't enough, she has two little boys to think about. So if you're thinking about a quick tumble in the hay, you'd better think again, lad.”

When Griff held his silence, Mad added, “I know what it is to be a man who's so befuddled by a lass, he can't think with his brain, but only with his—” he grimaced “—his
other
brain. But remember this, lad. If you truly care about a woman, you have to put what's best for her above your own desire.” He paused. “That's all I'm saying. Now why don't you fetch that coffeemaker and see if anyone wants a last cup before bedtime?”

He rolled away, leaving Griff alone in the kitchen with a jumble of dark, troubled thoughts.

I
n the great room, the little table was littered with clay bunnies and worms and birds in various colors. Spurred on by Brenna's praise, Casey and Ethan had used up almost all of the lumps of clay that she'd brought.

Ethan stifled a yawn, while Casey rested his chin on his hands and watched as Brenna put the finishing touches on his clay cat by adding a long striped tail.

“There now. I think we're done for tonight.” She turned to the two boys. “But if you enjoyed this, you're welcome to come over to my studio for some lessons.”

“Can we, Mama?” Casey asked.

She turned to Brenna. “I'm willing, as long as it doesn't take you away from your work.”

“I have plenty of time after work, and I love teaching others, especially children, the joy of creating something out of a lump of clay. Why don't you call me and we'll set up an hour or two when the boys can come?”

“Thank you, Brenna. I can see how much they've enjoyed this. And I love knowing they'd be getting lessons from a real sculptor.”

Brenna turned to Ash. “And now, cowboy, if you don't take me home soon, you'll have to carry me.”

He caught her hand and lifted it to his lips. “Babe, I'll carry you any time you ask.”

“Oh, brother.” Whit made a gagging gesture that had the others laughing. “It's time for me to get out of here, too. Before I overdose on too much of this newlyweded bliss. Brady, how about a beer at Wylie's?”

“Fine. As long as it's only one. I put in a long day, too.”

“Want to join us?” Whit asked Griff, who shook his head.

Juliet walked over to where her two boys were lounging amid the floor cushions. Just minutes earlier they'd been showing off their sculptures. Now, they were struggling to keep their eyes open.

“Bedtime, boys.”

Casey made a halfhearted attempt to argue. “But Mama…”

She turned to Griff, who ambled over and lifted Ethan to his shoulder. “Come on, little wrangler,” he whispered. “I think you've had enough fun.”

Ethan didn't argue. Instead he wrapped his arms around Griff's neck and snuggled close. From the look on Griff's face, it was clear that he was enjoying the chance to snuggle the usually timid little boy.

Juliet lifted Casey in her arms. Instead of the expected argument, he merely called, “'Night, Grandpa Mad. 'Night, everybody.”

“Good night, lad,” Mad called as the others waved.

Once upstairs, Griff led the way down the hallway to their room. Inside he slipped Ethan's shoes and clothes from him before glancing at Juliet, who was undressing Casey on the other bed.

“Want me to find their pajamas in their suitcase?”

She shook her head. “I think they're way too tired for that. I'll let them sleep in their briefs again.”

He pulled the blanket up over the sleeping Ethan and watched as she did the same for Casey.

She moved between the two beds, pressing soft kisses to both their cheeks.

Seeing it, Griff felt a quick rush of heat before turning toward the door.

Juliet followed him out and closed the door. A few steps away she paused outside her room and turned to him with an inviting smile. “Are you tired?”

He didn't quite meet her eyes. “Yeah. It's been a long day in the hot sun. I'd better turn in.”

He saw the look of confusion in her eyes and cursed himself for what he was about to do. “I forgot how much physical labor goes into building ramps. I guess I'm out of shape.” He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, and wished he could be touching her neck instead.

Closing his hand into a fist at his side to keep from reaching out to her, he took a step back. “I'll see you in the morning. 'Night.”

Though it took all his willpower, he managed to turn away. But not before he saw the look of disappointment on her face.

He walked purposefully to his room and pulled open the door. Once inside he kicked the door shut and strode to the window to stare at the night sky. His hands were balled into fists. His teeth were clenched so hard they ached. But that was nothing compared to the ache wrapped around his heart.

If it hadn't been for Mad's tough-as-nails warning, he had no doubt he'd be in Juliet's room right now. In her bed. Doing all the things he'd thought about doing in the barn.

Juliet stared at the closed door of her room before crossing to slump on the edge of the bed.

All evening, during the wonderful dinner, and that amazing dessert, she'd had a fluttery feeling in the pit of her stomach, just thinking about the way Griff had kissed her in the barn.

She could hear his voice whisper,
This isn't over, you know.

It hadn't been so much a statement as a challenge. A very tempting challenge that they would finish what they'd started when the others had given them some privacy.

And now, he'd walked away without even a good-night kiss. As though that earlier scene had never occurred.

What had happened between then and now?

Had he had time to change his mind? Had he decided that it had all been a huge mistake?

Had she said something, done something, to make him realize she wasn't worth his time?

Slowly, as though in a dream, she began to undress. In the beautiful bathroom, fit for a queen, she never even noticed her luxurious surroundings. Instead she went through the motions of getting ready for bed as though in a trance.

Once in bed she lay very still, her mind awhirl with dark thoughts.

There weren't a lot of men willing to take on a woman with two boys. Two very different boys. One who chattered like a magpie. One who never spoke a single word. But she'd thought Griff different somehow, better somehow, from all the others. She'd seen the way he got her boys to open up. Had seen the care he lavished on them. Had it all been an act to get close to her?

After the day she'd put in, she ought to fall instantly asleep. Instead, throughout the long night she tossed and turned as doubts and worries played through her mind.

There was a dangerous wrangler out there somewhere bent on revenge. And the thought of him stalking her, threatening her, had given her a feeling of being alone and afraid. But Griff had offered her a sense of security.

Maybe it was all an illusion. A false sense of security.

Maybe she was mistaking it for something quite different.

Some time in the early dawn, she came to the conclusion that Griff, by his baffling behavior, had actually done her a favor.

Last night, in the barn, after a few sizzling kisses, he'd gotten to her heart. Despite all her intentions to remain faithful to Buddy's memory, she'd been ready to open herself up to Griff and give him whatever he wanted.

How pathetic. Was she so starved for affection that she would resort to a tumble in the hay with a man she hardly knew?

What about what
she
wanted? Hadn't she come to Montana determined to work Buddy's ranch and raise his sons in the same way he'd been raised? Was her love for Buddy so shallow that the first handsome cowboy to show her any affection had her forgetting all her good intentions?

Lesson learned, she decided.

Mitch Cord had called her the ice maiden. It was the label she had very consciously crafted, and one she intended to wear whenever she found herself alone again with Griff.

“Look, Mama.” As before, Casey and Ethan were downstairs long before Juliet. They were kneeling at the long coffee table in the sitting area of the kitchen, enjoying glasses of foaming orange juice while moving their toy trucks around and around the top of the table, up and down the legs, and even across the rug underneath it. “Grandpa Mad said this was made from real oranges.”

“You squeeze your own every day?” she asked.

Across the room, where he was busy at the stove, Mad nodded. “Nothing but fresh for the MacKenzie clan, lass.” He shot her a level gaze. “How did you sleep?”

“Fine.” She shrugged and turned away from his scrutiny.

When Griff and Whit trooped in from the barn, they paused to wash at the big sink in the mudroom. Juliet couldn't tear her gaze from Griff as he walked in, his muscles straining the sleeves rolled to the elbows.

For a long moment they simply stared at each other. Then he turned and helped himself to a cup of coffee while she sipped her orange juice.

Willow and Brady came in from the office, where they'd been going over the books. Once again, Willow was muttering her annoyance at the backlog of documents needing her attention. Her frown of concentration turned to a smile at the sight of Juliet and her sons.

“Good morning.” She poured two cups of coffee and handed one to Brady before turning to Juliet and the boys. “It looks like a good day to be outdoors.”

“That's good.” Juliet glanced out the window at the sunlight spilling across the hills. “Because I'll be outdoors all day.”

“A busy day?”

She nodded. “I'll be glad for the work. I need to be busy.”

“We all do.” Willow turned when Mad summoned them to the table.

Soon they were passing around platters of omelets and ham, biscuits and strawberry preserves. Myrna poured milk for the boys and topped off coffee cups around the table before taking her seat beside Mad.

Though Juliet and Griff were seated next to one another, they were careful to avoid touching. Once or twice, as their arms brushed, they quickly moved aside as though burned.

The others were too busy eating and discussing ranch chores to notice. But Mad, sharp-eyed as always, watched them without expression.

After breakfast, as Willow and Brady made plans to ride up to the hills, Juliet hurried across the room to Willow. “I want to thank you again for your warm hospitality, Willow. But I'll be heading back to my ranch now.”

Willow hugged her. “You know you're welcome to spend every night here until Ira sends word that he's caught Mitch.”

“I'm grateful for your offer of sanctuary. I really appreciate it. It's given me a real sense of security.”

Casey and Ethan, each of them pulling a little wheeled suitcase, descended the stairs.

Seeing them, Griff plucked a set of keys from a hook on the wall. “Come on, little wranglers. I'll get you settled in the truck.”

Both boys raced across the room to hug Mad and call their good-byes to everyone as they followed Griff out the door.

Juliet thanked Mad and was rewarded by a warm hug from Myrna before trailing slowly behind the others.

As soon as Juliet fastened her seat belt, Griff put the truck in gear and took off along the curving ribbon of driveway and out to the highway beyond.

“Mama said one day this week she'll let me and Efan go to Brenna's studio and make things with clay.”

Griff glanced at the little boy in the rearview mirror and saw the excitement dancing in his eyes. “That should be fun. What do you think you'll make?”

Casey shrugged. “Brenna said we should let the clay tell us what it wants to be.”

“Talking clay?” Griff winked at the boy in the mirror, and Casey burst into laughter.

“It doesn't talk, but it looks like something.”

“I hope it doesn't look like a field of cows.” Griff pointed to a hillside black with cattle. “That might take a heap of sculpting.”

Both boys laughed at his joke.

For once Juliet was grateful to let the conversation flow around her, leaving her free to stare out the side window, avoiding Griff completely.

For the entire ride, she spoke not a word. Casey was too busy chattering to notice. But Griff did. Her silence was louder than any words. Whatever they'd shared in the barn had evaporated, like the morning mist that hung over the hills and disappeared as soon as the sun warmed the earth.

As he pulled up to her ranch, they spotted the rock-star bus. Heywood Sperry sat on his scooter in the doorway of the barn, scowling.

Juliet climbed out without a word before helping her boys down.

“Are you staying, Griff?” Casey called.

Griff remained behind the wheel. “No, little wrangler. I'd better get back and get to work on those ramps for Mad.” He looked beyond Casey to see Juliet turn away quickly. But not before he caught the look of grim resignation in her eyes.

As he drove away he kept watching in his rearview mirror, hoping she would turn and look back.

She kept walking purposefully toward the barn and the scowling veteran, who began gesturing as she approached. She turned her back on Sperry before stepping inside the barn. And then she was out of sight.

For Griff, the drive home was endless. And the look in Juliet's eyes, like a wounded bird, weighed heavily on his mind.