The Maverick of Copper Creek (10 page)

Stung by the truth of his grandfather's statement, Ash kept his thoughts to himself. But on the ride back to the ranch, he couldn't help mulling Mad's words. He'd blown his chances with Brenna. She had a right to a bright, shiny new life. If he were a gentleman he would step aside and not make waves.

He frowned.

He'd never made any claims about being a gentleman. Not now. Not ever.

W
hit bounded into the kitchen and helped himself to a mug of steaming coffee. “Do I smell flapjacks?”

“That you do, laddie.” Mad turned from the stove. “With blueberries and warm syrup.”

“Did somebody say blueberries?” Ash blew in from finishing chores in the barn and discarded his hat and denim jacket in the mudroom before washing his hands and stepping into the kitchen.

Behind him, Griff did the same.

Willow was seated at the table, wearing the same faded denims she'd worn for her dawn chores. Sipping orange juice, she looked up with a smile. “Feel that breeze every time the door opens. Look at that sunshine. I think spring is here to stay, and the rain is gone.”

“At least for today.” Brady unrolled his sleeves, the mixture of dark and light strands of his hair glistening from a quick wash at the mudroom sink, and poured a fresh cup of coffee.

Myrna set a platter of crisp bacon on the table, along with a platter of scrambled eggs. Minutes later she returned with an even bigger platter of pancakes.

Willow turned to Griff as he took the seat beside her. “How is your room?”

“Very comfortable. Thanks for making me feel so welcome. But I think it's time I…”

They all looked up at a knock on the door. Myrna opened it to reveal Mason McMillan standing on the porch, his ever-present briefcase in hand. Behind him stood his son, Lance.

“I hope I'm in time for breakfast,” Mason called as he walked into the kitchen.

“Just in time.” Mad pointed with his serving fork. “Sit. Eat. And then you can deal with business.”

Mason studied the young man seated beside Willow. “Sorry we didn't get a chance to meet yesterday at the church. You certainly have no need of an introduction. You could only be Griff Warren.”

“I am. And you are…?”

“I'm sorry, Griff,” Willow handled the introduction smoothly. “This is my lawyer, Mason McMillan, and his son, Lance.”

The three shook hands before Mason set aside his briefcase and took a place at the table, with his son beside him.

While the platters were passed, and plates filled, Mason spoke of the funeral. “I thought it was a beautiful service. I couldn't help thinking that Bear would enjoy seeing so many of the townspeople there.”

Willow nodded. “You know you and Lance could have stayed here last night, Mason. We have plenty of room.”

“You needed your privacy. And the rooms at the Becket place were really comfortable. Kate and Kevin have put a lot of thought and expense into their new bed-and-breakfast concept at their ranch. I just hope it's worth it. After all, there aren't a lot of visitors to Copper Creek.”

“Except at rodeo time.” Mad speared a flapjack. “I guess they're hoping the town can come up with other ways to draw in visitors.”

“Good luck to that.” Lance smiled. “I stopped by Wylie's and heard there was an…incident a few nights ago.” He took note of the lingering shadow around Ash's eye, and the slight swelling of Whit's upper lip. “But Wylie assured me everything had been put back in good repair in time for the crush of visitors. In fact, he was able to install a better speaker for the jukebox. So I guess he holds no hard feelings.”

“I'm sure the occasional brawl is an accepted cost of owning a saloon,” Mad said drily.

When nobody ventured any further information, the younger lawyer let the topic alone and accepted a cup of coffee from Myrna.

When the meal was finished, Mason waited until everyone had placed their dishes in the sink before fetching his briefcase. Taking a sheaf of papers from it, he sat back and waited until the others had returned to their seats.

“Since you're all involved in this, I've brought a copy of Bear's will for each of you.”

When Griff started to rise, Willow put a hand on his sleeve.

Seeing the flicker of surprise in Griff's eyes, Mason said, “You, too, Mr. Warren.”

Shaking his head in denial, Griff sank back down in his chair.

Mason passed around the documents. “There's no need for me to read all the details of Bear's will. It goes without saying, Maddock, that your land remains yours to dispose of as you please, even though it has now been joined to this ranch, with the same team of wranglers handling both pieces.”

He motioned to Willow. “And everything owned by Bear is now part of your trust. The house, the barns, the stock.”

He turned to include all of them. “But you should know that once Bear learned of Griff's existence, he insisted that all three sons share equally in his land. Though the ranch will continue to operate as one owner, each of Bear's sons may choose a plot of land on which to build a home, as long as that location is approved by Willow. Furthermore, Bear stipulated that if any of his sons refused to abide by the terms of the will, they could take a cash settlement, in the amount of five hundred thousand dollars, and leave here to make their future elsewhere, with no hard feelings.”

Around the room there was complete silence.

“Brady.”

The ranch foreman looked up.

“Bear asked if you would stay on as ranch foreman and lend a hand. And he left you a sum of money which has been deposited in this account.” He handed over a bank passbook to the startled foreman.

Mason turned to the old woman, who was loading the dishwasher. “Myrna, Bear didn't forget you.”

Caught by surprise, she straightened, still holding a plate.

He got to his feet and crossed the room to hand her a bank passbook, as well. “Bear hopes you'll remain here, too. And he wanted you to have a sum of money as a cushion when you decide to retire, though he invited you to spend your retirement years here.”

“Retire.” She huffed out a derisive breath.

“It happens to everyone at some point in their lives.” Mason looked around. “It even happens to lawyers. Which is why I've included Lance in my visits lately. I'm turning over my practice to my son. He assures me that everything will be handled as efficiently as it ever was.” He turned to smile at Willow. “That's about it. Everything is spelled out clearly in your documents, but as always, if you have any questions or concerns, you know you can turn to me.”

“Just a minute.” Willow cleared her throat. “This is all so…thorough. Did Bear mention having some premonition that something was going to happen to him?”

“He never said a word to me. But you should know that Bear was in the habit of updating his will periodically. He often said that he had no respect for men who didn't look out for all the people entrusted to their care.”

“But…” She spread her hands. “Bank accounts? Equal splits of the land he loved? That sounds like a man facing certain death.”

Mason shrugged. “When Bear met with me over this latest update, he seemed like a man who loved life and was ready to take on even more challenges. But I will admit that when he learned he had another son, it shook him to his core. He told me he felt a deep sense of responsibility for a young man who was forced to grow up without a father, and if he'd known about it sooner, he would have included the young man in his life.”

He snapped shut his briefcase and circled the table, shaking hands with the men, pausing to embrace Willow, before walking to the door, trailed by his son. “Our plane leaves in an hour. We'll be in Helena this afternoon, and Lance will be available at any time if you need him.”

The two lawyers were gone as quickly as they'd arrived, leaving Griff looking stunned, Myrna weeping over the sum of money in her new bank account, and Brady snapping shut the bankbook with a look of astonishment.

The family of Bear MacKenzie moved about the kitchen aimlessly, trying to process all that had just transpired.

It was Griff who first broke the silence. “Am I correct in reading that Bear wanted me to live here in this house?”

Willow nodded. “As long as you're comfortable with the arrangement, it works for me. This house is certainly big enough that we can all enjoy our privacy without stepping on one another's toes.” She paused. “Unless the whole idea is unappealing to you?”

He chose his words carefully. “I guess I could stay. At least for a while, until I sort it all out. But I have to tell you, this isn't the reception I'd expected.”

Willow gave him a gentle smile. “It isn't what I'd expected, either. Or maybe I should say,
you're
not what I expected. I thought this would be awkward.” She glanced at her younger son across the table, staring at the document in his hand. “Maybe we all thought it would be very different. But I think, for now, we need to pool our resources to see what works and what doesn't.”

Griff nodded. “All right. And again, Willow, thanks for your warm hospitality. This can't be easy for you.”

He glanced at Brady. “You asked me earlier if I'd like to head to the high country with you. At the time, I thought I'd be leaving today. But now, since I'm going to be staying on, I'll take you up on the invitation. I'd really like to learn all I can about the operation of the ranch. And I'd like to think I can contribute something.”

“Good.” Brady turned to Whit. “I'd still like your help, too.”

“You got it. I'm always up for a visit to the hills.” Whit grinned as a sudden thought struck. “I just wish I had that book Brenna offered me.” He winked at Mad before casually turning to Ash. “Think you could stop by her place and get it?”

Ash, busy pouring himself another cup of coffee, looked over in surprise. “You want me to pick up a book at Brenna's and haul it to high country?”

“If you're back in time, I'll take it when I'm leaving. If I'm already gone, you can just leave it in my room and I'll take it along next time.”

Ash shrugged. “Sure. I don't mind.”

Whit shared a conspiratorial grin with his grandfather. “I figured you'd jump at the excuse to call on your old…friend.”

Ash chuckled. “Oh. I get it. You think you're setting me up?”

“I think I'm…”

Ash didn't hear a word. He was too busy whistling as he carried his mug of coffee from the kitchen and up the stairs to his room.

Whit turned to those left in the kitchen, “That was too easy. I must be losing my touch.”

He exited to a round of laughter.

An hour later, while Brady led a convoy of trucks and all-terrain vehicles along the road leading to the highlands, Ash was in his truck and heading in the opposite direction toward Brenna's ranch.

Though it had been obvious to him that his little brother had set him up, he was too excited about the thought of seeing Brenna again to mind the obvious trick. In fact, he was glad for any excuse to pay a call.

When he turned off the highway and onto the dirt road that led to the Circle C, he felt the old familiar rush of anticipation. His friendship with Brenna went back to their childhood days.

He would never forget their first chance encounter. As usual, he'd had a verbal run-in with his father, and he had taken off on horseback across a pasture. After a hard gallop he'd slowed his mount to a walk when he spotted a figure huddled against the base of a pine tree. The figure heard his approach, a head came up, and he saw blue eyes go wide before watching him with the wariness of a wild creature.

It was a girl. Small, wiry, wearing torn, dirty denims and a shirt with holes in both sleeves.

“Hey.” He'd slid easily from the saddle and dropped down into the tall grass beside her. “You lost?”

She shook her head.

“I'm Ash. Ash MacKenzie. This is our land.”

She glared at him, and he had the distinct impression she was ready to hiss and spit like a cat to fight him if he ordered her to leave. “You want me off it?”

“No.” He tried a smile, hoping she might do the same. “I just wondered how you got here.”

She pointed to a spotted pony, nibbling grass in a stand of trees some distance away. It blended so perfectly into the landscape, he hadn't noticed it.

“Where do you live?”

“Over that hill.”

“The Crane place? What's your name?”

“Brenna Crane.”

Most folks avoided the Crane ranch, though Ash didn't know why. It certainly couldn't be because of this little-bit-of-a-thing.

“You hungry, Brenna?” Without waiting for her answer he reached into his pocket and pulled out a candy bar, breaking it in two.

“Thanks.” She accepted half and devoured it in two bites.

Ash broke his half into equal halves and offered her more. She ate that just as quickly, before giving him a timid smile. “You bring any milk, too?”

He shook his head. “Wish I had. It's hot.”

“Yeah.”

They sat side by side, but when he leaned his back against the trunk of the tree, she remained rigid, refusing to relax. Like she had a rod up her back, and couldn't bend.

“Want to ride to my place and get some lunch?”

She shrugged. “I guess.”

She whistled up her pony, and pulled herself up in the saddle before following him back to his ranch.

Once there he led her into the cool interior of the kitchen, filled with the wonderful aromas of bread baking and pot roast in the oven.

Brenna stood in the doorway, looking around like Alice in Wonderland.

“Hey, Myrna. Can I make a sandwich for me and my friend?”

The old woman turned and, seeing the thin little figure behind him, broke into a wide smile. “Well now, who's this?”

“Brenna Crane. I told her she could have lunch with me.”

“How nice to meet you, Brenna. Ash, why don't you take your young friend to the mudroom and wash up first?”

As they started out of the kitchen, Myrna followed, intent upon fetching clean towels. Trailing behind them, she could see that the little girl's shirt had several torn spots, and long red lines of something that looked suspiciously like blood trailing down her back.