The Maverick of Copper Creek (13 page)

“Or beautiful women,” he muttered between bites, wiggling his brows like a mock villain. “So be warned, me fair beauty.”

With the mood considerably lighter, they lingered over desserts and coffee, talking easily about ranch chores and filling Ash in on the latest town gossip.

“Oh, and I think you'll enjoy hearing this, Ash.” Brenna's eyes danced with unconcealed happiness. “While you and Vern were in the barn, Percy Hanover called to say Pearl was overjoyed when he gave her my sculpture. In fact, he said it was one of the few times in his marriage that he'd ever seen his Pearl cry. He assured me they were happy tears.”

Ash sat back, enjoying the moment. “What did I tell you? You have a rare gift, Sunshine. One that made even the stoic Pearl Hanover weep for joy. You can't argue with that success.”

Her laughter filled the room. “All right. I concede to your superior knowledge, Mr. MacKenzie.”

He turned to Vern. “I want you to remember this moment. It has never happened before, and may never happen again in our lifetime. Please note that Brenna not only agrees with me, but has admitted that I have superior knowledge.”

Laughing, Brenna added, “In fact, I'm already regretting my remark. Knowing you, I'm sure you'll hold it over my head forever.”

“You got that right.” He winked at the old cowboy, who was thoroughly enjoying their teasing banter. “And I happen to have a very reliable witness.”

T
hat was a fine supper, girl.” Vern circled the table and rested his big hand on Brenna's shoulder. “See you in the morning.”

He nodded to Ash. “It's good seeing you again, son. Thanks for all your help in the barn.”

“Maybe I'll swing by tomorrow and give you a hand with that tractor.”

The old man brightened. “I'd appreciate it. I'll take all the help you can give me. Especially if you happen to have a new starter switch in your bag of tricks.”

“I wouldn't be surprised if we have half a dozen in the equipment barn. Brady is prepared for every emergency.”

Vern nodded. “Your daddy got a good one when he found Brady Storm. He'd be a fine addition to any ranch.”

“Yeah. Brady's been there since before I was born, and I remember Pop saying having Brady around freed him up to enjoy his ranch instead of resenting all the things that could go wrong. He was able to leave all the annoying details to Brady, knowing they'd be done to perfection.”

“I hear he's a stickler for 'em. And he works right alongside the wranglers, so they know he doesn't ask them to do the dirty work unless he's willing to do it, too.”

Ash grinned. “That's Brady. He gets down and dirty with all of us. It was Brady who taught me to fly, even though Pop and Mad were both licensed pilots. They just didn't have the patience to teach me or Whit the basics.” Ash shook his head, remembering. “Come to think of it, I'd have to say Brady taught us every bit as much about ranching and life in general as Pop did. And with a lot less shouting.”

At his admission, the old cowboy grew thoughtful before taking his leave of them.

When Vern was gone, Brenna began gathering the dishes. As she filled the sink with soap and hot water, Ash caught the glint of metal at her wrist and stilled her movements to study the delicate filigree bracelet.

“You still have it?”

She glanced down with a smile. “Since the day you bought it for me, it's never been off my wrist.”

“You sure it never turned your wrist green?” His voice was warm with laughter. “I think I paid five bucks for it in the notions section of Green's Grocery.”

“I don't care what it cost. You bought it for me. And you put it on my wrist yourself.”

“Yeah.”

As she started to wash the dishes, Ash picked up a towel and began to dry.

She arched a brow. “I know you don't do this at your family's ranch.”

“That's because Mad and Myrna don't want anyone else getting in their way. But I've been gone a long time, and while I was in Wyoming, if I didn't take care of things, they didn't get done. There was nobody around to lend a hand.”

She washed a plate and set it on the drying rack. “How did you survive when you left here? What did you do for money?”

“What didn't I do?” He gave a dry laugh. “I did every job imaginable on ranches from here to Wyoming. And when I couldn't find ranch work, I took whatever offer I could get. For a while I worked the night shift in a gas station. I even cooked in a diner.”

She shot him a look. “You cook?”

“Simple fare. Burgers. Fries. I make a mean grilled cheese sandwich.”

“Maybe I'll let you cook for me one day.”

“You're on.” He shot her a grin. “Hell, I learned to do whatever it took to stay alive. I was nineteen and hungry and scared, and the only thing I knew was ranching. Wherever I worked, whatever I had to do, I knew that one day I'd have my own place.”

“And you did it.” She turned to study him as he set a plate in the cupboard. “Is it satisfying?”

“Yeah.” He reached for another plate and began to dry. “I like being my own boss. But it's lonely being so far from home. That's why I took online college classes at night. It helped fill a lot of sleepless hours.”

She finished washing the last of the serving pieces. “Why didn't you ever come back?”

He took his time stacking the dishes. “I think a part of me was afraid of what I'd come back to. I'd grown up, and I knew I couldn't ever be the son Pop wanted. I'd become a man, but there were already two men in my father's house, Pop and Mad. And the two of them butted heads a lot. I knew I'd have to fight for my place in the pecking order. And then there was you…” He picked up the pretty serving platter and began to dry it. He took his time, choosing his words carefully. “I was afraid I'd come back and find you married with a couple of kids. And I wasn't sure I could take it.”

She turned, unaware of the water dripping from her hands. “You…stayed away because of me?”

He reached over her head and set the fancy plate on a shelf before looking down at her.

“I figured I'd done enough damage to everybody. My mother. My brother, Whit. Pop and Mad. And you. Especially you. You were…my best friend. And I abandoned you without a word. I don't mind taking the blame for it. But I didn't think my heart could stand seeing you with another man's children.”

“Ash…”

“Shhh.” He closed his hands around her upper arms and stared down into her eyes. “The hardest thing I've ever done was leave you behind.”

“Then why…?”

“We were a couple of kids. You especially.”

“I was sixteen, and already on my own.”

“You were a kid, Brenna. I didn't know a whole lot, but I knew one thing. I had no right to ask you to leave your ranch, your friends, your life here, to tag along with me, when I had absolutely no plans and no future. All I had were these hands and a willingness to do whatever it took to stay alive.”

She reached up to close her hands over his. “That would have been enough for me. I'd have gone if you had asked.”

“I knew that. And it would have killed me to see you taking odd jobs all over the West, just to follow me.”

“We'd have been together.”

“Yeah. In fleabag motels and run-down bunkhouses. No man wants that for his woman.”

His woman.

Once the words were spoken, they hung awkwardly between them.

Brenna was staring up at him with wide eyes.

His own darkened. A frown suddenly furrowed his brow.

He stepped back and dropped the damp towel over the back of a chair. “It's time I got home.”

“I could make a fresh pot of coffee.”

“No.” He spoke the word harshly. To soften it, he added, “I…really need to leave.”

As he started toward the back door, Brenna followed him.

He plucked his wide-brimmed hat from a hook by the back door. As he started to go, Brenna touched a hand to his arm. Just a touch, but the heat of it danced through his veins.

“Ash…”

He turned to her.

She was looking up into his eyes, her smile wrapping itself around his heart and squeezing. “Thanks for driving me to town. And for helping Vern. Tonight was…special.” She shrugged, looking shy and awkward.

He seemed about to say something. Instead he swore and let his hat drop to the floor, while he dragged her into his arms.

“Why do you have to be so sweet and forgiving? Why can't you just hate me for leaving you?”

“Hate…” She blinked. “Ash, I tried that. But I realize now I could never hate you.”

His eyes were hot and fierce as he lowered his head. His kiss was so hot, so hungry, it rocked her back on her heels. A kiss that was all fire and flash and sizzle. It drained her even as it filled her. There was nothing tentative or teasing about this. It was bold and possessive. Demanding. And it spoke of a blazing-hot need.

With lungs straining, he lifted his head. For a moment he merely touched a finger to her cheek while he stared into her eyes, as though trying to read her feelings.

Then, muttering an oath, he lowered his head and kissed her again.

This time it was achingly slow and thorough, his mouth whispering over her eyelids, her cheek, the corner of her mouth, until, with a guttural moan, she laced her fingers around his head, clinging to him as her lips found his.

Now it was all heat and frantic need, as each took from the other with a hunger that bordered on desperation, mouths seeking, bodies straining.

His hands were in her hair, though he couldn't remember how they got there. Hers were raking his back, her nails digging through the fabric of his shirt in a frantic effort to get closer.

He turned her, pressing her against the closed door, his body imprinting itself on hers as he took the kiss deeper, then deeper still, his mouth restlessly seeking what he really wanted. He couldn't get enough of her.

The quick, jittery charge to their systems had them practically crawling inside each other's skin. And still it wasn't enough.

When he took a moment to change the angle of the kiss, his name was torn from her lips in a frantic cry. “Ash!”

At the sound of his name on her lips, he suddenly went very still.

Chests heaving, they stepped a little apart, waiting impatiently for their world to settle.

Was the floor tilting? Was the room spinning? Or was it their heads? Their hearts?

When he could finally catch his breath he managed to whisper, “Sorry.” He shook his head. “Not for that kiss. I've had a hunger for that since I first saw you again. But I…almost crossed a line. I guess I let myself forget for a moment that you've moved on with your life, Sunshine, and I'm not a part of it anymore.”

When she said nothing, he bent and retrieved his hat.

He left without another word.

Brenna stood as still as a statue, watching from the doorway as Ash climbed into his truck and started down the lane.

She remained there, clinging to the door, until her heart rate slowed and her breathing returned to normal. Then she closed the door and returned to the kitchen, staring around as though seeing it through Ash's eyes.

It looked the same as it had for years now. Old. Tired. Worn. But tonight it had been a room filled with warmth and laughter.

She hadn't laughed that hard in ages. Even Vern had enjoyed himself.

Because of Ash.

When he'd left all those years ago, without one word to her, all the sunlight had gone out of her world. Her grief had been so deep, she'd convinced herself that she hated Ash MacKenzie for abandoning her. For breaking her heart. But here he was, back home, back in her life, and she'd not only spent a wonderful evening in his company, she'd allowed him to kiss her.

Allowed? What a lie. It shamed her to admit that she'd been a full participant in that kiss.

In truth, it had been much more than a kiss. They'd practically devoured one another. They had been making love without the physical culmination.

She lifted her left hand. The diamond ring winking in the lamplight mocked her.

What kind of woman was she that she would commit to a future with one man and fall willingly into the arms of another?

Chris was a good and decent man. He certainly didn't deserve to be betrayed like this.

She closed her eyes, allowing the image of Ash holding her, kissing her, to play through her mind.

Even now, just thinking about him, had her so hot she pressed her hands to her cheeks in an effort to cool them.

She began pacing the length of the room and back, her mind awhirl with erotic images and thoughts of what she'd just done.

And then her mind took a turn and she thought of what she'd wanted to do. She'd wanted, more than anything, to make mad, passionate love with Ash. To erase all the years that had slipped away. To forget the man to whom she'd pledged her future. She'd wanted desperately to lose herself in the dark, mindless passion Ash had been offering.

What had she been thinking?

She hadn't been thinking. That was the problem. She'd allowed herself to get caught up in the moment, losing herself in the dark, compelling world of passion.

Chris would be here soon. He would expect her to be the warm, affectionate woman he thought he knew. But now there was a third person in their relationship. A person who had shattered her young heart in the past, and now had come back to test her once again.

It shocked her to think that she would ever trust Ash again. Even more shocking was the thought that she might allow him to come between her and a good man who had just given her a ring to seal their engagement.

What kind of woman would even think twice about a choice between a practical, sensible man who had already pledged his love, and a loose cannon whose temper had once taken him far away from all that he'd known and loved?

Ash had kissed her. Nothing more. And he certainly hadn't declared any feelings for her.

Her throat was suddenly so raw, it felt as though she'd shed a million tears. But her eyes were dry as she peered out the window and watched the approach of Chris's new car gliding slowly up the lane toward her house.

Ash drove the entire distance to his ranch without even being aware of the road. His thoughts were as dark as the night sky spread out like a canopy over all the countryside, leaving the buttes, the hills dotted with cattle, in shadow.

He'd known, from the first moment he'd decided to return to Montana, that he would have to deal with his feelings toward Brenna. He'd half expected to find her married. The thought had struck terror in his soul. But that might have made things easier. It would have demanded a clean break. He knew in his heart that he would never violate a marriage vow. No matter what feelings were resurrected when they met again, he would have been able to keep his distance if Brenna were someone's wife.

She was engaged. Practically married. And though he thought of himself as an honorable man, he'd nearly crossed a line tonight. Hell, he would have, if she hadn't cried out just in time.

But had she called his name to stop him? Or to encourage him to do more?

She hadn't held him at arm's length. If she had, he would have respected her wishes and walked away sooner. But she'd been as much a partner in that kiss as he.