The Rebel of Copper Creek (7 page)

“Cooper sent me to pick up the stake truck and drive it up to the herd.”

She planted her hands on her hips. “Funny. I don't see any truck in here.”

His voice lowered to a seductive purr. “I figured I'd check and see how you're doing.” He started toward her. “Hell, Cooper can wait. I've always got time for a damsel in distress. Especially one who's all alone and in need of my special brand of…comfort.”

She grabbed up her pitchfork. “You take another step and it'll be the last you ever take.”

He threw back his head and laughed. “I hope you've got an army to back you up.”

Griff stepped from his stall, his own pitchfork held loosely in his hand, to face a lanky, muscled cowboy in a sweat-stained shirt and faded denims. “How about a marine?”

The wrangler's eyes went wide as he looked from Juliet to Griff.

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he backed away. “Guess I'll get that truck.” He shot her a parting sneer. “I'll let you get back to your—” he paused and glowered at Griff for emphasis before swiveling his head toward Juliet “—chores, Mrs. Grayson, if that's what they're called these days.”

Griff crossed the distance to stand beside Juliet. Together they watched as the man climbed into a rusted stake truck and drove it across the hills.

Knowing two little boys were watching and listening, he said softly, “You okay?”

“I'm fine. Thanks.” She set aside the pitchfork and sucked in a deep breath before starting away. “Lunch in half an hour.”

Ethan raced to catch up with her. When he caught her hand she paused to look down at him before the two of them crossed the distance from the barn to the house.

Griff returned to his work. Casey sat on the top rail of the stall.

“You know who that wrangler was, son?”

The little boy frowned. “His name is Mitch.”

“One of your mama's wranglers?”

The boy nodded. “Uh-huh.” A moment later he added, “He has mean eyes.”

Griff stored that thought away. He hadn't had time to see Mitch's eyes, but his sarcastic words to Juliet left no doubt as to his intentions.

When the last stall had been cleaned, Griff hung the pitchfork on a hook and exchanged the work boots for his own. With Casey dancing along beside him, keeping up a steady stream of chatter, he made his way to the house.

They paused at the big sink in the mudroom to roll their sleeves and wash before stepping into the kitchen. The table was set with glasses of milk and a platter of sliced tomatoes and cucumbers in the center.

Juliet called over her shoulder, “Your sense of timing is amazing. Lunch is ready.”

Casey climbed up beside his brother. “Griff said he didn't even have to look at his watch. He could smell the grilled cheese all the way to the barn.” He turned to the man, who was busy filling two mugs with coffee. “Could you really? Or were you just teasing?”

“Now what do you think, little wrangler?”

The boy's smile lit up the room. “I think I smelled grilled cheese, too.”

“There you are.” Griff set down the two mugs and turned to Juliet. “Can I help with anything?”

“Let's see.” She set down a plate of sandwiches cut into triangles and watched as her boys helped themselves. “Where to begin? There's the equipment, of course, which Endicott will probably never repair. Then there's the truck in the other barn that won't start. A tractor that's down. A group of wranglers who've been up in the hills for weeks with the herd, and will be here in the next few days expecting to be paid so they can go into town and drink away their paychecks. Is that enough?”

Griff heard the frustration in her tone and decided to keep things light. Though his heart went out to her, he knew her sons were listening to every word between them.

“More than. But I was talking about helping you with lunch.” He reached for a sandwich and bit into it before giving a sigh of satisfaction. “Looks like you didn't need my help with these. Could there be anything better than a perfectly melted grilled cheese sandwich?”

“Did your mama make them just like this?” Casey wiped a milk mustache on his sleeve.

“She did. She knew that next to peanut butter and jelly, these were my favorites.”

Casey took another bite of his sandwich and turned to Ethan. “Griff went to army school.”

“Military school,” Griff corrected.

Juliet looked over. “Why military school?”

“Like you, my mom was a single mom. By the time I was eleven or twelve, I was a handful. The principal at my middle school didn't give her much choice. He suggested I might need more discipline than regular school could offer. I think what he was really saying was they didn't want me back.”

Juliet said in a matter-of-fact tone, “So you were trouble.”

“Yeah. You could say that.”

She eyed him over the rim of her cup. “I think maybe you're still trouble. So, how did you take to the sudden change in your life in a tough military school?”

He shrugged. “I sorted things out. And one day I realized I could adapt, or I'd be out of options.”

“What are options?” Casey asked.

“Choices. In life we make choices.” To prove his point, Griff nibbled his sandwich. “I can eat or go hungry.” He winked and speared a slice of tomato. “I can eat my veggies, or somebody else will eat them all and I'll have to do without.”

The little boy imitated him, helping himself to a tomato slice and several cucumber slices. “Me, too.” He turned to his mother with a look of surprise. “Hey, these are good.”

“That's what I've been trying to tell you for weeks.”

The boy polished off his vegetables and helped himself to more.

As he did, Griff winked at Juliet. “Options, Casey. Now you're sorting them out for yourself.”

“I am?” The little boy looked pleased before turning to his brother. “You should eat these. They're really good.”

Ethan continued nibbling on his sandwich.

Casey fidgeted with energy. “You said after lunch Griff could let me sit in his airplane.” He nudged Ethan. “Want to come with us?”

The boy looked away.

To Griff, Casey said, “Efan's afraid of airplanes, 'cause our daddy's crashed. Isn't that right, Mama?”

“Yes.” The single word was said softly.

“But your airplane can't crash 'cause it's on the ground.”

“That's right. And that's where it's going to stay until you get tired of being in it.”

“I'm never getting tired.”

The little boy was so earnest, Griff had to fight to hold back the smile that tugged at his lips.

Casey looked over at his mother. “Can me and Griff go now?”

“It's ‘Griff and I,'” she corrected.

“You're coming, too?” His eyes went wide. “Oh boy.”

Juliet couldn't hold back her explosion of laughter. With a shake of her head she muttered, “I give up. Yes, I'm coming along. And I think maybe even Ethan will want to sit inside for a moment, as long as the plane isn't leaving the ground.”

C
an we go to the airplane now, Mama? Pleeeease?” Casey drew out the word until Griff had to turn away to keep from laughing.

“All right.” She pushed away from the table. ”You go along, and I'll join you when I've cleaned up here.”

“That's not the military way. First rule. Never leave anyone behind.” Griff winked at the two little boys. “We'll all clean up the kitchen. Then we'll all go together to the plane.”

Though Casey's little frown revealed his disappointment, he was too excited to refuse. “Okay. I'll carry the plates to the sink.”

“Maybe you'd better let Ethan carry them,” Juliet said. “And you can handle the napkins.”

“Okay.”

While the boys cleared the table, Juliet filled the sink with hot water and began to wash. Griff stepped up beside her, drying the dishes and setting them in the cupboards. Each time he reached above her head, she seemed to get very still and watchful.

It was impossible not to notice his body, so close to hers. The ripple of muscles with each movement he made had her throat going dry. She could still feel the power, the strength in him, when he'd held her and kissed her. But despite his strength, there had been such control. It was something she admired in a man. But it wasn't admiration she was feeling at the moment. Right now, with him reaching above her head to deposit a platter, it was something far different. She could almost feel the heat. The fire. The hot, burning rush she'd experienced in his arms.

She drained the water and turned away, annoyed at the direction of her thoughts. She was here in Buddy's family home, sharing chores with his sons, and it seemed somehow disloyal to be thinking about another man.

Within minutes Griff draped the damp towel over the edge of the clean sink.

“Okay, little wranglers. Let's go take a look at the plane.”

Casey flew out the door ahead of everyone. Griff moved along at a leisurely pace. Ethan walked beside his mother, looking more like he was going to a trial than a treat.

Juliet studied the way Griff moved. Smooth, sleek, like a panther. He had a quiet way about him. Like a man trained to watch and listen. A marine, who'd seen plenty of combat. It had showed in the way he'd stepped quietly out of that stall to face down Mitch.

Mitch. She would have to tell Cooper to fire him. At first it had been merely snide insinuations. But he was growing bolder. She liked to think she could handle him, but it had been extremely satisfying to watch the way he'd run when he realized Griff had her back.

Griff. What was she going to do about him?

She found herself admiring the view of those broad shoulders. Those strong arms. That trim, fit body.

She'd actually felt a little thrill shoot through her when he'd raised his arms above her head to stow some dishes. She'd found herself thinking about those arms gathering her close, holding her against that hard, muscled chest.

She must be a glutton for punishment. Why else would she tempt herself with such thoughts?

When they reached the little Cessna, Griff opened the door before lifting Casey up and into the small space.

He turned to Ethan. “Want to look around inside, or would you rather stay on the ground?”

The little boy shrugged before lifting his arms.

Griff easily lifted him up and settled him beside Casey in the pilot's seat before turning to Juliet. “It's a tight fit, but there's room.”

She accepted his hand. Such a big, work-worn hand. He settled her in the copilot seat before crouching behind them, between the seats.

“What's this?” Casey already had his chubby little fingers poking at the controls and dials.

Griff took his time giving a name to every dial and button and control, and explaining what it did. Though Casey did all the asking, Ethan gradually reached out to tentatively touch some of the controls.

Within a short time Casey was making little engine noises in his throat, and it was obvious that he was mentally high in the air, flying the plane.

When Juliet glanced at Griff, he winked and smiled. The sight of it did strange things to her insides. It was impossible for her to keep from returning that smile. But even as she smiled, she felt a quick stab of pain at the thought that Buddy should have been the one showing his sons the inside of a plane.

They stayed for nearly an hour while Casey asked a million questions. Each time, Griff patiently answered, even when the same question had been repeated a dozen times or more.

“How do you know when you're high enough?”

“That dial there. It tells you.”

“How do you know how fast you're going?”

“This dial.”

“What if you go too high?”

“This sounds an alarm.”

“What if your motor stops?”

“You get it started.”

“What if it won't start?”

Griff chuckled. “You'd better be wearing a parachute.”

“Have you ever jumped from an airplane?”

Griff shook his head. “I got ready to jump a time or two, but I never had to.”

Finally, Casey seemed to have run out of questions and energy.

As the silence grew, Juliet touched a hand to his arm. “I think it's time for a nap now.”

“Not yet, Mama.” Even as he said it, his eyes looked heavy.

“Come on, little wrangler.” Griff stepped down from the plane and assisted Juliet, then Ethan, and finally Casey.

As the little boy was lifted down, he wrapped his arms around Griff's neck and held on.

Seeing it, Juliet felt a swift stab of pain. It broke her heart to know that her youngest son had never been held by his own father.

She lifted her arms. “I'll take him.”

“That's all right.” Griff nodded toward Ethan. “You take your big guy and I'll take your little one.”

With Juliet holding Ethan's hand, Griff followed, with Casey in his arms.

Once in the house Juliet turned, expecting Griff to relinquish his hold on the little boy. Instead he shook his head. “I'm not sure, but I think he's asleep.”

He turned, giving Juliet a chance to see Casey's face, tucked into the hollow of his shoulder.

Juliet nodded. “Sound asleep.”

“You lead the way, and I'll carry him to his bed.”

Upstairs, Juliet turned down the covers and Griff deposited the sleeping boy on the bed. Juliet removed his shoes and tucked the blanket around him before turning to Ethan, who had climbed in on the other side.

Juliet bent to him. With a few whispered words and kisses, she covered him before turning away. At the door, both Griff and Juliet gave a last look at the two boys before she pulled the door closed.

Once downstairs, she turned. “Thank you. This has been quite a day for both of…”

She looked up sharply at a knock on the door. Seeing a stranger on the porch, she kept a firm grasp on the door as she opened it just a little. “Yes? Can I help you?”

“Juliet Grayson?”

“Yes.”

“I'm Jackie Turner.”

“Turner? The former foreman here?”

“That's right, ma'am.” Jackie whipped off his hat in a courtly gesture. Seeing Griff behind her he said, “Hey, Griff. After our little talk, I decided to drive out here and see for myself. Ma'am, I wonder if you might be interested in having me take a look at how things are going.”

“You talked with…Griff?” She swallowed her surprise. “I'm sorry, Mr. Turner. I can't afford to pay for any more help.”

“I haven't said anything about pay, ma'am. Maybe you could think of me as an old family friend who'd like to look out for your interest here.”

“But I…” She bit her lip before saying, “Why don't you come in?”

“Thank you.” He stepped inside the kitchen and glanced around with a smile. “Creepers. I've been in this room a hundred times or more. I'm glad to see it hasn't changed.”

“I know it's old…”

“I'm not talking about the way it looks, ma'am. I'm talking about the way it feels. This place has always had a feeling of home. A feeling of family and love. I'm glad to see that's still here.”

“Thank you, Mr. Turner.”

“I answer to Jackie, ma'am. Just Jackie.”

“And I'm Juliet.” She turned toward the stove. “There's coffee. Would you like some?”

“I've never refused a cup of coffee, Juliet.”

She turned to Griff and he nodded.

She filled three mugs and carried them to the table. “Cream or sugar?”

“None for me.” Jackie sat and took a long drink before setting the mug down and meeting Juliet's look. “How many wranglers do you have right now?”

She shrugged. “Six. I had five, but Randy Cooper said it wasn't enough.”

“Cooper's a good worker. Is he in charge now?”

She nodded.

“Is he out in the barns?”

“The entire crew is up in the hills with the herd.”

The old man cleared his throat. “I've known most of the wranglers around these parts for years. I know the steady ones, and those I wouldn't put much faith in. If you don't mind, I'd like to take a ride up there, just to see for myself how they're doing.”

“It's a long way to the highlands.”

He smiled. “I'd know a thing or two about that. Been riding these hills since I was a pup. Since your crew isn't expecting me, I'll get a pretty good idea of how things are being run.” He pushed away from the table. “I'll stop back to report to you tomorrow.”

She gave a long, deep sigh as she followed him to the door. “I can't tell you how much I appreciate what you're doing, Mr.…Jackie.”

“Don't thank me yet, Juliet. You may not like what I have to say when I get back.”

“At least I'll have the advice of an expert.”

He shook her hand before looking past her to Griff and giving a nod of his head. “Good seeing you, son.”

Juliet waited until he drove away before turning.

Her voice turned frosty. “Was there some reason why you didn't bother to mention the fact that you'd paid a call on Jackie Turner?”

“The opportunity just didn't come up. But I'd have gotten around to it sooner or later.”

“Sooner would have been nice. Why are you making my business your business?”

He picked up his empty cup and deposited it in the sink, along with Jackie's. When he turned, there was a look in his eyes that had her throat going dry.

“I've been asking myself that same question.”

When he took a step toward her, she thought about backing up. Then she thought better of it and held her ground.

He caught a strand of her hair that had fallen over one eye and tucked it behind her ear. It was a strangely intimate gesture that had her chin coming up even as color flooded her face.

He stared down into her eyes and she felt the heat of his touch all the way to her toes.

His gaze burned over her mouth and she knew, in that instant, that he wanted to kiss her.

Even more, she wanted him to.

Instead, he very deliberately lowered his hand to his side before turning away.

He walked to the back door and opened it. With his hand on the door he said, “I know I overstepped my bounds. And I don't have any good reason why.” His tone hardened as he turned to her. “Now that Jackie's on board, you'll be in good hands. I won't be bothering you again.”

“I didn't mean—” She saw the way his brow shot up.

She forced herself to meet his stern look. “Could we start over?” Before he could say a word she went on in a rush. “Let me just say this and get it over with. Thank you for standing by me today when Mitch got out of hand.”

“About Mitch.” His tone lowered. “Do you feel safe with him around?”

She gripped her hands together. “Not really. But I keep Buddy's rifle in a locked cabinet in the den.”

“That may give you some peace of mind, but that cowboy didn't look like the type to wait around while you unlock some doors and load a weapon.”

She flushed. “It's the best I can do. I have my sons to think about. I can't keep loaded weapons around for them to find.”

“True. But you don't want them witnessing another scene like the one Mitch created today in the barn.”

“I know.”

When he said nothing more she added, “And though I don't care much for surprises, I want to thank you for talking to Jackie Turner. I never would have had the courage to call him, even though Buddy thought the world of him. I have no idea how I'll pay him, but I'm grateful for anything he can do to help me.”

When he remained silent she added, “And I'm sorry for the way I behaved yesterday when you—” she sighed and plowed ahead “—when you kissed me. I wasn't so much mad at you as mad at myself.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“I haven't felt like a woman in a long time now. I guess, between raising two sons alone and trying to salvage a dying ranch, I've forgotten what it feels like to be…” she shrugged “…kissable.”

His smile was quick and unexpected. “Oh, no doubt about it. You're kissable.”

She gave a self-conscious laugh. “I wasn't fishing for compliments.” She chewed her lower lip. “I'm not doing this well, but what I'm trying to say is, I have deliberately cultivated a reputation for being an ice maiden. I may have lost my husband, but in my heart, I still love him. There isn't room in my life for a man.” She exhaled. “There. Now that I've said it, I hope you understand.”

“Got it.” He gave her a long look before opening the door and stepping out onto the porch. “If you need anything, call me.”

“How will I reach you?”

He arched a brow. “Got a cell phone?”

She lifted one out of her shirt pocket.

He gave her his number and watched as she added it to her directory.