The Maverick of Copper Creek

by R. C. Ryan

  Chief Pettigrew offered handshakes as he took his leave. “This was a good day.”

  “Yes, it was.” Ash accepted the chief’s hand. “You do good work.”

  “We all do.” Ira donned his hat as he walked out the back door.

  Brady shoved back his chair. “I’ve got a crew to see to in the morning.” He touched a hand to Willow’s arm. “You all right?”

  “Fine.” She glanced around the table. “This was a perfect celebration. Thank you, Mad. Myrna. We couldn’t have done it without the two of you.”

  Vern turned to Brenna, seated beside Ash, still cradling Sammy in her arms. The pup had long ago given up and drifted to sleep. “I need to get you home, girl.”

  She nodded. “I think after a long, hot bath, I’ll probably sleep for hours.”

  She kissed Mad’s cheek, then Willow’s, and finally was embraced by Myrna, who held her for long, silent moments before releasing her.

  Ash got to his feet. “I’m going with you.”

  She paused. “You don’t need to keep watch anymore, Ash. Vern and I are safe now.”

  “I know.” He saw the way the others were watching and listening. “There are things…I need to say.”

  She looked at his eyes, narrowed on her with an intensity that had her heart dropping. Whatever he had to say, it wasn’t going to be easy for him, and that meant that it wouldn’t be easy for her to hear. She turned toward the back door, feeling all the joy of this celebration melting away.

  Ash kissed his mother and grandfather, before solemnly shaking hands with Whit and Griff. With his arm around Myrna he spoke to all of them. “Without you, I wouldn’t be here tonight. I want you to know how much I love all of you.” He followed Brenna and Vern toward the truck.

  In the kitchen, it was Mad who broke the silence. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say that sounded a whole lot like good-bye.”

  The drive to Brenna’s ranch was made in complete silence. At the wheel, Vern cast sidelong glances at the woman next to him and the man beside her, looking everywhere but at each other.

  The only time they touched was when Sammy stirred. Both of them drew back the blanket to peer at his little face. The pup yawned, stretched, and fell back to sleep.

  Vern deposited them at the back porch before calling good night and crossing to his trailer.

  He was too wired to go to bed. Instead he pulled a beer from his fridge and kicked off his boots before dropping into his easy chair.

  He leaned back, puzzling over these past days. He prided himself on being able to read people. It was plain to see that Brenna was still head-over-heels for Ash MacKenzie. Ash was another story. Maybe it was the fact that he hadn’t been able to spare her the horror of what she’d been through. Maybe he was suffering from some kind of posttraumatic stress. Whatever was going on in Ash’s mind, he’d looked fierce enough to slay dragons.

  In the kitchen Brenna gently set Sammy, still wrapped in the blanket, in his bed. He was so sound asleep, he never even moved.

  She straightened to find Ash still standing at the door. “Will I make coffee?”

  He shook his head. “I’ll make it.”

  She sank down on one of the kitchen chairs and braced herself.

  Minutes later Ash set a steaming cup of coffee in front of her and poured a second for himself. Crossing to the table, he took the seat opposite hers.

  “You said you’d like to talk.”

  He nodded. His voice was quiet and careful. Too careful. “After Pop’s funeral, I promised my mother that I’d give myself time to think about staying.”

  She felt her hand shake, sending coffee sloshing over the rim. She set aside the cup. “I know you have a ranch in Wyoming.”

  “Yeah. My ranch. For nine years I struggled to prove something to myself. Maybe I wanted to prove that I was as tough, as independent, as shrewd as my father. But those nine years taught me so much. I realize now that I’m my own man. I don’t have to measure up to Pop. What I do going forward isn’t about Bear MacKenzie. It’s about what I want. And I realize now that I’m not at all content at home. Maybe I’ve been away too long. I can’t go back to being the boy I was when I left.”

  Brenna wondered that she could speak. How was it possible, when her heart was shattering? “So you’re going back to your ranch in Wyoming.”

  His head came up. He looked directly into her eyes. “I’m not doing this very well. But I’m trying to tell you that I want to live here, on your ranch.”

  “Until you’re strong enough to return to Wyoming?”

  “I’ve been in contact with my neighbor. He’s been tending my herd. He loaned me the money for the repairs to my irrigation system. He’s been wanting my spread ever since I bought it. And now I’ve decided to sell it to him.”

  “So you can buy a bigger one?”

  “Maybe that was my dream once upon a time. But now…” He reached across the table and caught her hands. They were cold as ice. “Sunshine, let me try again. We’re getting off track. What I’m trying to say is that I love you. And all I really want to do is settle in here with you on your ‘historic’…” His smile came now, curving the corners of his mouth. “…Yeah. Your historic ranch, so that the two of us can make it all that it ought to be. That is, if you’ll have me.”

  Brenna held up a hand. “Wait. I’m confused. Is this a merger or a marriage proposal?”

  “I’ll make this easier.” He stood and rounded the table, before dropping down on his knees before her. “Brenna Crane, the day I stumbled upon you sitting under that tree, I knew I’d found my best friend. Since then, I’ve spent my days and, to be honest, a lot of my nights dreaming of you. It didn’t take me long to figure out that what I felt for you was love. But when I left, I figured I’d killed any chance of ever getting that love back. Seeing you with Chris…” He shook his head. “It was almost as shattering as seeing you with a knife to your throat. And through it all, through all those days and nights and years, through the hard work and the tears, I knew one thing. I love you. I’ve always loved you. I thought I’d really messed up and lost everything that mattered to me. But now that I have a second chance, I want, more than anything in the world, to marry you and live with you, and ranch with you, and raise Sammy with you, and…”

  She stopped him with a long, slow kiss. Against his mouth she whispered, “You had me at ‘best friend.’ Because, friend, I love you, too. So yes. And yes. And yes…”

  And then there was no need for words.

  Out in the trailer, Vern saw the kitchen light go out. He waited to see if a bedroom light went on. The ranch house was dark. And silent.

  He smiled and tipped up his beer.

  Whatever those two were up to, he’d put his money on Ash MacKenzie. Now there was a dragon slayer if ever there was one.

  Epilogue

  Summer had come to Montana. Meadows were lush and green. Hawks soared on warm currents of air, making lazy circles over cattle growing sleek and fat. Copper Creek lured many a cowboy to strip off his clothes, just as in childhood, and take advantage of a cool, refreshing dip before returning to his chores.

  Brenna’s house glowed in the summer sun under a fresh coat of white paint. Her porch had been widened, and new steps added.

  Ash had enlisted the aid of Griff, whose skill as a woodworker had turned the interior of the old house into a showplace. Walls had been removed, opening the kitchen and parlor into one big sunny space. Upstairs, two bedrooms had been turned into a master suite, with a walk-in closet and master bathroom, complete with a deep soaker tub and shower big enough for an army.

  Out back, the sagging, ancient barn had been shored up and sported a spiffy coat of red paint. Everyone for miles around referred to it as Big Red.

  In the kitchen, Myrna and Mad were bumping into each other as they put the finishing touches on a wedding supper fit for a MacKenzie. The wranglers had been put to work setting up planks on sawhorses that graced the yard beneath the big old aspens. The p
lanks looked glorious with their white linen tablecloths and centerpieces of white roses and ivy.

  Soon they were groaning beneath trays and platters of rare, fork-tender beef tenderloin, fried chicken, and honey-glazed ham. There were steam trays swimming with mushroom gravy and Myrna’s famous garlic mashed potatoes. There were too many salads to count. A garden salad with Mad’s own dressing of creamy gorgonzola cheese. Potato salad, pasta salad. There was a kettle of chili hot enough to make a cowboy weep.

  There was a sweet table, filled with enough cakes and pies and cookies to satisfy the sweet tooths of everyone in the town of Copper Creek, all of whom had been invited to share the joy of this day.

  Mad studied the figures atop the four-layer wedding cake that he and Myrna had fashioned. The bottom layer was carrot cake, to satisfy Ash and Brenna. The second layer was chocolate, the third yellow, and the top layer white, with bits of fresh strawberries from Myrna’s garden.

  On top of the creamy white frosting stood a cowboy with dark hair and, just beneath his plaid shirt, a tiny strip of bright red Superman S. Mad and Myrna shared a conspiratorial grin. The female figure was blonde, wearing denims and boots, and holding a yellow fluffy pup in her arms.

  “Ye’ve outdone yerself, lass.” As always, when he was feeling emotional, Mad’s Scottish burr became more pronounced.

  “So have you.” Myrna looked around with satisfaction. “I believe our work is finished.”

  “Then let’s enjoy ourselves. We’ve earned it.” Mad turned his wheelchair toward the porch and waited for Brady to take him to the yard, where the others had gathered.

  Out in the yard, Willow stood back, admiring the flowers she’d ordered from the tiny shop Flowers by Flo, in Copper Creek. It had been the largest order the owner—Florence Hanover, daughter of Percy and Pearl—had ever filled.

  Tall urns filled with long-stemmed white roses and spilling over with ivy dressed the makeshift buffet tables, as well as each side of the porch.

  More white roses and ivy adorned the steps, and small, round bowls of them sat on every table beneath a white tent.

  A hundred chairs with big white bows tied to their backs were set in a semicircle around a raised platform, which was ringed with roses.

  Seeing that Mad and Myrna had finished with the food, Willow caught Myrna’s hand and whispered, “Brenna asked if we’d join her upstairs when we’re ready.”

  Myrna nodded, and the two women disappeared up the stairs together.

  Ash stood in the cool interior of the barn, where a plank set over two sawhorses formed a bar of sorts. Several ice buckets held chilling bottles of alcohol and soda.

  He looked up as Brady pushed Mad toward him, trailed by Whit and Griff. Vern, wearing his best Western suit, his boots polished to a high shine, stepped out of his trailer and strolled over to join them.

  Whit poured fine Irish whiskey into tumblers and passed them around. “Here’s to you, bro.” He lifted his glass. “And to your bride. I don’t know what took you so long to figure out what the rest of us knew years ago. You and Brenna were meant to be together.”

  With a laugh, they drank.

  Griff lifted his glass. “Here’s to the family I wish I’d had growing up. I‘m proud to know all of you.”

  “Right back at you, bro.” With a grin, Ash drank again and they joined him.

  Mad’s burr thickened. “Here’s to my son, who gave me this fine big family. I know he’s smiling today.”

  “To Pop,” Ash said.

  “To Bear MacKenzie,” Griff added.

  As they drank, Vern cleared his throat before saying softly, “I’d like to toast Brenna. A finer woman you’ll never find.”

  They all nodded before drinking.

  Willow paused outside the bedroom door and knocked.

  “Come in,” Brenna called.

  Willow and Myrna stepped inside and paused to stare at the vision before them.

  “Oh, Brenna. Look at you.” Willow felt tears spring to her eyes and cursed the fact that she’d shed more tears in the past weeks than she had in a lifetime.

  “Do you like it?” Brenna twirled. “It was my mother’s. I found it in the attic.”

  She wore a long, slender column of ivory silk fashioned with a high, dog-collar neckline of lace that ringed her throat, and short, cap sleeves that fluttered at the tops of her arms with each movement.

  Her blonde hair worn long and loose, her only jewelry was the band of filigree at her wrist, and the effect was simple and stunning.

  “It’s perfect,” Myrna sighed. “It suits you.”

  “Thank you.” Brenna hugged Willow and then Myrna before removing two boxes from the dresser. “I made each of you something.”

  She handed the first to Willow, who opened it and gave a gasp of pleasure.

  It was a sculpture of her surrounded by Ash, Whit, and Griff, with Mad seated in front of them—and behind, with his arms spread as though gathering them all close, stood Bear.

  Willow couldn’t stop the tears, and was forced to reach for a handkerchief before embracing Brenna. “I will cherish this. I love it so much.”

  “I’m glad.”

  Brenna handed the second box to Myrna. When the older woman opened the box, she simply stared, too stunned to speak.

  It was Myrna with her arms around a very young Brenna, who was looking up at her with eyes wide and smiling. On the base of the sculpture were the words, The grandmother heaven sent me.

  “I never knew you felt that way.” Myrna fought her own tears.

  “I let my sculpture say it for me.” She pressed a kiss to the old woman’s cheek.

  At a knock on the door they looked up to see Vern standing in the doorway.

  For several moments he merely stared at Brenna, unable to say a word. Finally, clearing his throat, he managed to say, “Reverend Hamilton and his wife are here. It’s time to go, girl.”

  Seeing the look in the old cowboy’s eyes, Willow caught Myrna’s hand and stepped away. “We’ll be downstairs.”

  When Willow and Myrna left, Brenna turned to Vern. “Are you ready to give away the bride?”

  “I don’t know if I am.”

  At his words she moved closer to touch a hand to his arm. “What does that mean?”

  He merely shook his head. “I’ve watched you grow up. Watched you struggle against all that life threw at you, and look at you, girl. Still standing, and looking like some kind of angel.” He touched a leathery finger to her cheek. “I’m so proud of you. And I know your mama and daddy are, too.”

  “Thank you.” She smiled then, because she didn’t want her tears to mar this day. She wrapped her arms around his neck. “I couldn’t have done it without you, Vern. You were always here for me. And I’m so grateful that you’ve agreed to stay on.”

  “You’re my family, girl. And I’ll say this now. You’ve picked the right man to spend the rest of your life with. Ash MacKenzie is a finisher. That man will never let you down.”

  She linked her arm with his and leaned close to kiss his cheek. “Come on. Let’s make it legal before he gets away.”

  With a laugh, the two of them stepped out of her room and descended the stairs.

  When they reached the porch, they paused.

  Half the town of Copper Creek milled about the yard. Ira Pettigrew, and Percy and Pearl Hanover. Nonie Claxton and Wylie. Thurman Biddle and Alf Green, the grocer. Mason McMillan and his son, Lance, looking out of place in their fancy suits. Beside them stood Dr. Dan Mullin—in a lab coat, since he would be returning to the clinic immediately after the wedding—and his assistant, Kate, chatting up all her neighbors.

  There were boys and girls playing hide-and-seek, and teenage boys and girls flirting, while their parents kept a close eye on them.

  The minister, in his best vestments, stood near the raised platform, which was banked with roses. To one side Willow stood beside Brady. Mad’s wheelchair was parked next to Myrna, who already held a handkerchief to her eyes. On t
he other side of the minister stood Whit and Griff in their best denims and shiny boots. Whit winked at Brenna, and she shot him a grin. Griff gave her a thumbs-up, and she gave it back to him.

  And then she caught sight of Ash, looking so fierce and handsome as he walked toward her.

  She was vaguely aware of Vern taking her hand from his arm and placing it in Ash’s hand. Could hear Rascal Flatts in the background singing about the broken road they’d traveled, from her favorite CD. But all she was really aware of was Ash. Smiling down at her, his eyes on hers, his hand so big and rough and callused, holding hers with such strength.

  “Oh, Ash, I love you,” she whispered.

  “I love you more, Sunshine.” He leaned close. “Last chance. Want to skip all this fuss and go swimming in Copper Creek?”

  “Not on your life, cowboy. I let you get away once. This time, you’re not going anywhere until you make me your wife.”

  “Okay. But tomorrow you and I are going skinny-dipping.” He winked, then turned away. “Almost forgot.” He handed her a nosegay of white roses. As she buried her face in them, he leaned down and straightened, holding Sammy, who was wriggling happily and wearing a white bow on his collar.

  At her raised brow, Ash shrugged. “If we’re going to make it legal, we have to include the entire family.”

  Family.

  While the onlookers smiled and laughed, Brenna looked around at the wonderful family she was acquiring.

  For a girl who’d been alone for most of her life, it was heady indeed to know she now had a grandmother, a grandfather, and tall, sturdy brothers who would always be there for her.

  Above all, she was finally free to spend the rest of her life with the boy who had won her heart all those years ago.

  Her very own Superman.

  Real life didn’t get any better than this.

  Mad MacKenzie's Garlic Mashed Potatoes

  (Adjust the quantity if some family members are absent)