The Rebel of Copper Creek (Copper Creek Cowboys)

by R. C. Ryan

  Brenna laughed. “I can’t think of a better reason to have sticky fingers.”

  Griff pointed to the boys. “These two little wranglers are her sons, Casey and Ethan.”

  Spotting the boys, Sammy began wiggling all over until he was close enough to be petted. Even their ice cream couldn’t compete with a happy, wriggling dog. The two boys stopped licking their ice cream long enough to run their hands over his head and back.

  “He’s big,” Casey said.

  “When I first got him, he was only this big.” Brenna held her hands close together. “He was so tiny and yellow and fluffy. But now he’s like a big, awkward teenager, knocking things over with that happy tail of his.”

  As if to prove her point, the more the boys petted him, the harder his tail wagged.

  Brenna turned to her husband. “That ice cream cone looks so good. I think I have to have one, too.”

  “Vanilla as usual?” Ash asked her.

  That brought laughter from both Griff and Juliet. Griff was quick to explain, “I had to talk Juliet into trying something exotic, instead of her usual vanilla.” He turned to Brenna. “Go ahead. It’s time to live life on the edge.”

  She laughed and said to her husband, “I’ll have what Juliet’s having.”

  “And what is it?” Ash asked.

  “Divine Diva Double Strawberry,” she said, taking another lick.

  Ash walked inside I’s Cream and returned minutes later with three giant cones: one for Brenna, one for himself, and the third for a very happy Sammy.

  They sat around the tree stump table, happily devouring their desserts.

  In an aside to Griff, Ash said, “Whit said you expected a little trouble last night after you left Wylie’s.”

  “I did. And there was.” He glanced over at the boys before saying, “Juliet made a report to Ira. He doesn’t think she should be alone for a while. Your mother has invited us to supper. And she wants Juliet to consider staying with our family until Mitch is caught.” He saw Ash was grinning and frowned. “You think that’s funny?”

  “No. I think you’re funny.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Ash smacked him on the shoulder. “You just said ‘our family.’ I guess that means you’re no longer wondering whether or not you’re one of us.”

  Griff laughed, but as the conversation swirled around him, he realized what he’d just revealed. More and more each day, as he got to know this wonderful family, he really was beginning to think of himself as a MacKenzie.

  And though the rest of the family might not recognize it yet, it was a giant step for a man who’d been a loner all his life.

  Chapter Ten

  Griff turned the truck off the highway and onto the long ribbon of road that wound its way through rich grassland and rocky outcroppings, giving it the look of the Old West.

  As they made a turn around a grass-covered hill, the MacKenzie Ranch came into view. The house of wood and stone rose up three stories, blending in so naturally with the mountain range in the distance that it seemed to be part of the landscape. Looming behind the house were several giant barns and outbuildings. The distant hills surrounding the area were black with cattle.

  Juliet fell silent, drinking in the amazing view.

  “Is this where you live?” Casey asked.

  “It is. This is the MacKenzie Ranch.”

  “It’s so big.”

  Griff smiled at the little boy in his rearview mirror. “That was my first thought when I saw it. You could build an entire city here, with room to spare.”

  “Or a whole country,” Juliet said softly.

  He glanced at her. “Don’t let the size intimidate you.”

  She couldn’t hold back the little laugh that escaped her lips. “Too late, cowboy. I’m already feeling overwhelmed.”

  “Don’t be.” He laid a hand over hers. “These are good people. I think you and the boys are going to be pleasantly surprised.”

  She shot him a sideways glance. “Do they know how much mischief two boys can get into?”

  He winked as he pulled up beside the back porch. “Willow raised two boys of her own. I’m sure she still remembers dozens of things they did.”

  He slid from the truck and walked around to open the passenger door. As he helped Juliet down, he could feel the slight tremors in her hand and squeezed before turning to help Casey and Ethan to the ground.

  Walking between them, he said, “Come on inside and meet the MacKenzies.”

  They walked through the giant mudroom, hearing loud voices coming from the kitchen. As they stepped inside, the voices ceased and heads turned to watch as Griff led them closer.

  “I’d like all of you to meet Juliet Grayson and her sons, Ethan and Casey. Juliet, you’ve already met Willow and Brady.”

  Willow hurried over to greet them while Brady gave a nod of his head from across the room.

  “This is Whit MacKenzie.”

  “Better known as the little brother,” Whit said with a grin.

  “Or, as he prefers when he’s at Wylie’s, the hot hunk,” Brenna called from the mudroom.

  “Hey, you two,” Whit said to Ash and Brenna. “You must have heard that Mad’s making pot roast.”

  “You bet.” Ash kept an arm around his bride’s waist as they strolled into the kitchen, leaving Sammy on the back porch contentedly gnawing on a rope. “I’d never say no to Mad’s pot roast.”

  “Or his stew. Or his baked chicken. Or…”

  Griff held up a hand. “Juliet. Boys. This is Myrna Hill.”

  The plump woman paused and wiped her hands on her apron before offering her hand to Juliet and then to each of her sons.

  “And this is the famous Mad MacKenzie. Don’t pay any attention to his name. He’s a really happy cook.”

  “I’ve been reduced to cooking in my daughter-in-law’s house. But at least I’m chief cook,” the old man boomed. He turned away from the stove and rolled his wheelchair close to extend his hand to Juliet. Then he fixed the two boys with a look. “Which of you lads is Ethan and which is Casey?”

  Casey turned to his mother with a look of surprise. “He called us lads, Mama.”

  “That you are,” Mad said in his booming voice. “In Scotland you’re lads until you become men. And to an old man like me, everyone younger is a lad. Now tell me which is which.”

  “I’m Casey,” the younger one said proudly. “And I’m free.”

  “Welcome, Casey.” Mad shook his hand.

  “And this is my brover, Efan, and he’s six.”

  “Do you ever let Ethan speak for himself?”

  Casey shook his head. “Efan doesn’t like to talk. So I do it for him.”

  “I see.” Mad offered his hand to the older boy. “Welcome, Ethan. Six is a good age to be. I remember my sixth birthday. I rode halfway across the Highlands in a wild storm. Some day I’ll tell you all about it. For now, I’d better tend my pot roast or there’ll be no supper tonight.”

  As he turned his wheelchair and rolled toward the stove, Ethan’s wide-eyed gaze followed him.

  Juliet and her sons were surrounded by a crowd of joking, laughing MacKenzies, each one talking louder than the next in order to be heard above the din.

  Myrna held out a tray of lemonade for the boys.

  Whit passed around longnecks to anyone who reached for one.

  They moved slowly across the kitchen, easing into a sitting area complete with comfortable sofas and chairs and side tables on which rested a tray of cheeses and assorted biscuits.

  Willow saw the way Casey and Ethan eyed the snacks and put an arm around each of them. “Do you like cheese?”

  Casey nodded. “Mama makes grilled cheese sandwiches. Griff likes them, too.”

  “I’ll bet he does.” She handed each of them a small plate. “Help yourselves.”

  They knelt on the floor beside the low coffee table, nibbling cheese and crackers and sipping their lemonade while the conversation flowed
around them.

  “How are you settling into ranch life, Juliet?”

  Juliet chewed her lower lip. “I’m afraid this girl from Chicago isn’t much of a rancher.”

  “Give yourself time.” Willow patted her hand. “I grew up here in Montana, and I wasn’t much of a rancher when I married Bear.”

  “But you didn’t need to be.” Juliet blinked. “I mean, you had a husband to handle the ranching while you handled your boys.”

  Brady chuckled. “Don’t let the lady’s looks fool you. Willow can outrope, outride, and outwork most of the wranglers around here.”

  Juliet looked at her with new respect. “You actually work your ranch?”

  Whit and Ash exchanged grins. Ash said, “She not only works it, she runs it. And with a very firm and steady hand, I might add.”

  “In other words,” Whit deadpanned, “she not only raises the bacon, but she can butcher it, slice it up, and fry it in a pan.” He broke into song. “’Cause she’s a woman, W-O-M-A-N.”

  Everybody roared with laughter.

  “Except,” Mad called from the stove, “she no longer has to fry it. That’s what I’m here for.”

  “And you do an excellent job of it, Mad.” Willow blew her father-in-law a kiss.

  Juliet sat back, watching and listening, and feeling all the tension of the past few days begin to slip away. There was just something about this family that had her feeling more relaxed and happy than she had in years.

  While the adults continued their conversation, Ethan nibbled his cheese and walked over to stand beside Mad’s wheelchair, running his hand over and over the wheel.

  Seeing it, Mad paused in his work. “Are you afraid of my chair, lad?”

  The boy shook his head.

  “You’ve seen one before, then?”

  Ethan nodded.

  “Well then, maybe you’d like a ride, lad?”

  The boy’s eyes went wide before he gave a timid nod of his head.

  “Here you go.” With no effort at all, Mad’s arms, muscled from years of propelling his chair, lifted the boy into his lap. Without any seeming break in his routine he rolled back and forth between the stove and the table, depositing a pitcher of ice water, stirring something in a pan. And all the while the boy settled himself comfortably against the old man’s chest.

  As the conversation swirled around her, Juliet watched her son snuggle into Mad’s embrace and felt her heart nearly stop.

  Seeing the look on her face, Griff leaned in to whisper, “Something wrong?”

  She shook her head, afraid to trust her voice.

  Seeing the direction of her gaze, Griff kept his tone low. “Don’t worry. Mad may be old, but he’s strong as a bull. He won’t let Ethan fall.”

  “I’m not worried about that. Look at Ethan’s face, Griff.” Her lower lip trembled, and Griff could see her fighting tears. “He’s smiling.”

  Griff shook his head. “I have to admit, I’ve never seen Mad have that effect on anybody. Most people, especially little kids, are afraid of his bluster. ”

  “Don’t you see?” Moisture shimmered on her lashes. “All of Ethan’s memories of his father are related to a wheelchair. Whenever I pushed Buddy along the hallway on his way to therapy, Buddy would have Ethan in his lap.”

  She turned away, hoping no one would see her tears. “Oh, Griff. I never thought I’d see my son smile like that again. Look at his face. He looks as though he’s in the arms of an angel.”

  Griff tried to reconcile his image of the stern, gruff old man as an angel, but failed.

  “Dinner’s ready,” Mad bellowed.

  As the others began moving across the room toward the big table, Griff closed a hand over Juliet’s. “I’ve heard Mad MacKenzie called many things. But this is a first.” He led her toward the table. “Come on. Let’s see if the food is as heavenly as the tough old bird who prepared it.”

  Everyone settled themselves around the wooden table, with Willow at one end and Mad at the other. Ethan sat beside the old man, while Casey chose a chair between his mother and Griff. Ash and Brenna pulled their chairs close, and though no one mentioned it, everyone was aware that the two newlyweds were holding hands under the table.

  Brady sat to one side of Willow and Whit on the other. Myrna sat on the other side of Mad, closest to the long kitchen counter, in order to fetch coffee or milk during the meal.

  As they passed around bowls of potatoes and crisp green beans from the garden, as well as platters of sliced roast beef and baskets of rolls fresh from the oven, they continued the conversation they’d begun over their beers.

  “…one of the best cattle seasons ever.” Brady held the platter while Willow helped herself. “I think this fall’s roundup is going to bring the best market value in years.”

  “Because of the grass in the highlands?” Griff asked.

  Brady nodded. “That, and the fact that spring snowstorms were minimal. We lost fewer calves this season than any spring in recent memory.” He glanced toward Mad. “Don’t you agree?”

  Mad grinned. “It’s been a rare year. No doubt about it. Plenty of rain. Plenty of sunshine. I think we’ll see our profits soar.”

  Ash nudged Brenna. “Hear that? Maybe all this good luck is because we’ve merged our ranches.” He turned to his grandfather. “What about it, Mad? You think Brenna’s cattle are bewitched and brought their good karma with them?”

  Mad gave a belly laugh. “Good cattle karma? Now I’ve heard everything.”

  He glanced at the little boy beside him. Seeing Ethan struggling to cut his meat, the old man leaned close and cut everything into bite-sized pieces. “There you are, lad.”

  Across the table, Juliet watched in silence and felt another tug on her heart. When she looked up, she realized Brady had asked her a question. “Oh, sorry. What were you saying?”

  “I said, how about your cattle? Has your foreman given you a report on how they’re doing in the hills?”

  “I’m afraid not. He probably doesn’t feel the need to report to me, since he knows I don’t have a clue as to how things should be done.”

  Willow turned to her with a smile. “Don’t sell yourself short, Juliet. If you do, those who work for you will, too. You don’t need to know everything about ranching. In the beginning, learn a few key points. Here in Montana, weather is key. With a good season like this one, your cattle are going to get fat in spite of themselves. A good season also means you can grow more crops, and that means that you won’t have to spend as much buying feed over the long winter. One good year like this can mean the difference between success and putting a ranch up for auction.”

  “You make it sound easy.”

  Willow shook her head. “Ranching’s never easy. But nothing worth doing ever is. The thing about ranching that keeps us all here and working every day, without time off for vacations or sick days or holidays, is that it gives us the freedom to live the kind of life our ancestors lived for hundreds of years. And having that is worth the price we pay.”

  Juliet went as still as a statue. Then, very slowly, she smiled. “Thank you.”

  Willow raised a brow in question.

  “Not only for this lovely meal.” She shot Mad a quick grin. “But also for giving me a reason to stay and fight for Buddy’s ranch. Until now, I wasn’t sure why I was here, instead of living in some big city, where I’d feel more at home.”

  “And now?” Willow asked.

  “You just answered the question for me. I think I want that freedom you just spoke of. Not just for myself, but for my boys. This land belonged to their ancestors. They deserve a chance to see if they’re willing to work for it, too.”

  Griff saw the look that came into Mad’s eyes. A mixture of surprise, grief, pride.

  Hadn’t the old man single-handedly cleared this land and made it a successful business? But what would it be worth if it couldn’t be passed on to his own son? And now that son was dead.

  Griff saw the way Mad looked around t
he table at his grandsons.

  There was the old man’s hope. The hope that though his son was gone now, here were three grandsons, all with different backgrounds and dreams for their future, yet they were pulling together to make his dream come true.

  Griff realized that Willow hadn’t just given Juliet an answer she’d desperately needed. She’d given him an answer, as well. He wasn’t here simply because he had nowhere else to go. He stayed on, even after burying the stranger who’d been his father, because he saw his own future here, on the MacKenzie Ranch.

  Maybe he wasn’t the experienced rancher Ash and Whit were. At least not yet. But if grit and determination were enough to turn him into a bona fide rancher, he had no doubt he’d get there in time.

  Time.

  He glanced at the two little boys, alone and hurting, trusting their mother to guide them through their heartache and loss to a better place.

  If he were a betting man, he’d put his money on Juliet Grayson to overcome all these troubles and show the world just how strong she truly was.

  Chapter Eleven

  As Myrna began collecting their plates, Ash leaned back with a sigh. “Mad, I think this was your best roast beef ever.”

  Mad grinned. “You say that every time, lad.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Yes, you do.” Whit winked at his grandfather. “You need to come up with a new compliment, bro. We’ve heard that one a thousand times.”

  Ash turned to his bride. “Do I always say that?”

  “You do.” Brenna nodded, before squeezing his hand. “But I’m sure your grandfather never grows tired of the compliment.”

  “You’re right about that, lass.” Mad was beaming as he turned to Myrna. “What about that special dessert you promised us?”

  She paused, about to load dishes onto a serving cart. “Would you rather we eat it here, or in the great room?”

  “The great room.” Willow pushed away from the table. “The house is chilly tonight. I’m sure the boys would like to sit by the fire.”

  Everyone followed suit, getting up from the table and heading toward the door.