True Love at Silver Creek Ranch (24 page)

“She doesn't think that, Tyler,” Adam said, coming to stand on the opposite side of the machine from the boy.

“Matthew just wanted to screw me over. And if my brother had been out of jail at the time, he wouldn't have burned the barn either,” Tyler insisted.

“I know.” It was as if the weight of the world—of his family—was on the kid's shoulders. “Bring him to the housing-renovation project tomorrow. Maybe someone will see he's a hard worker and offer him a job.”

T
hat evening, Brooke happily accepted her brothers' teasing as they helped her load her boxes into her Jeep and their pickups.

“She's trying not to be an old maid,” Nate told Josh.

She elbowed him in the side so that he let out a “woof” of air.

“She's sick of fighting me for the cookies,” Josh answered.

“No,” Brooke said to Josh, “I just don't want to be the last little kid at home.”

“I think that's you,” Nate said to their brother. “The baby of the family.”

Josh shrugged good-naturedly. “Both my jobs are here. My new apartment is almost done. I'm happy.”

Both of her jobs were here, too, Brooke thought—and then she saw Adam walking toward them from the bunkhouse, his shadow long and lean in the fading light. Even her lover was here—but she thought of him spending the night in her arms, and couldn't wait to be in town. She gave him a friendly wave and trudged back toward the house with her brothers.

Adam caught up. “Need help?”

Between the four of them, they quickly filled up the vehicles and headed into town. Adam offered to come along, too, and her brothers seemed grateful for anything that made the unloading go quicker. Brooke kept waiting for Josh to make some kind of accidental comment about Adam's participation, but he'd always been good about keeping her secrets.

Emily came up from the bakery with a platter of cookies, and Monica brought a big poinsettia for the coffee table. Brooke knew she was grinning stupidly. Emily had left all the furniture since Nate's cabin was already furnished, as well as the Christmas candles in the window, and the big Christmas tree. Brooke couldn't help but stand still and admire it, so thankful that she was making her dreams come true—some of her dreams, she thought, glancing surreptitiously at Adam.

When the last of the boxes were piled along the hallway wall and in the spare bedroom, they all stood around and munched cookies.

Josh swallowed his, and said, “Did I tell you guys that Whitney Winslow from Leather and Lace tracked me down at the ranch to see my workshop?”

“Are you going to make stuff for her?” Monica asked.

Josh hesitated. “Not the stuff that you already sell. You don't have to worry about that.”

“Oh, I'm not worried,” she insisted. “There's plenty of your talent to go around.”

“I still feel kinda weird about this,” Josh said. “I asked to see her catalogue before I agreed to anything.”

“I happened to see the two of you talking,” Adam suddenly interrupted.

Everybody turned to look at him in surprise, and Brooke knew it was because he was usually so quiet around everyone but her.

Adam smiled at Josh. “She invited him back to her B&B to see her . . . laptop.”

To Brooke's delighted surprise, Josh actually blushed. “Did you and she . . . ?” Brooke trailed off.

“None of your business,” Josh said. “But I might be making some leather uh, necklaces.”

“Don't you mean collars?” Nate asked. He pulled Emily against his side. “Don't give me any honeymoon presents, okay?”

“It's for a good cause,” Josh insisted innocently. “With a local craftsman on board, maybe more people will let up on the town council. And all of the lingerie is really beautiful.”

“He's so altruistic,” Brooke said to Adam.

For the next few minutes, they ate cookies and made lewd fun of Josh. Then, one by one, they all took their leave until Brooke was alone in her new apartment. She stood in the picture window and looked out on the beauty of Main Street only a few days before Christmas. Snow was still falling, and shoppers hurried from store to store. Across the street, every window in the Hotel Colorado was lit from within, as tourists and extended families took every available room.

It seemed so exciting to Brooke, who was used to the quiet views of the ranch—and the bunkhouse that had once held no interest for her.

She heard the chime of the back doorbell, and ran down the stairs, wondering who forgot what. Once she entered the little hall shared with the bakery, she could see Adam through the door window that faced the alley.

Smiling, she opened the door and leaned against the frame. “Well, well, are you my first visitor?”

And then he pushed her back up against the wall and kissed her, slow and deep.

When he moved to her throat, she bent her head for him, hearing his hat fall off onto the stairs, feeling the softness of his wavy hair.

She whispered, “You know the bakery is still open. Either of our grandmas might be working tonight.”

Then she muffled a cry as he tossed her over his shoulder and carried her up the stairs. The impact took her breath away, but she didn't care. They threw a sheet on the bare mattress, rolling around on it in wild abandon as they made love.

When at last they were breathing hard and exhausted, Adam pulled a blanket over them, and they settled into each other's arms.

“Now this is the way to celebrate a new apartment,” Brooke murmured, kissing the side of his neck, caressing his warm, damp chest. “I even have wine. Do you want some?”

Soon they were sitting up against the headboard, still naked except for the sheets and blankets gathered across their laps.

As they sipped their wine, Brooke hesitated, and said, “This is off topic, but did Tyler ever show up to Scott Huang's house to work with you?”

“Not yet, but he asked me today if he could still come, and I invited his brother, too.”

“Really? That seems like a good sign.”

“I think so, too.” Adam stared into his glass of wine for a minute, looking unusually serious. “Coach McKee told me your family donated a house to the renovation project. That's generous.”

“Now let's be correct here. We bought it for them at a really reduced price since it needs a ton of work. I never mentioned it to you?”

He shook his head, still pensive, and she felt their mood begin to shift.

“You never want to talk about the military,” she said, “so I didn't think you'd be interested. We were inspired by Challenge Aspen, a group that works with people with disabilities, running various events through the year. They host a big ski week with the Wounded Warrior Project.” She paused. “Why did you bring this up?”

“It's stupid, but I think it made me remember darker times in my childhood.”

“Now I'm really confused.”

A rueful smile touched his mouth. “My father . . . much as he needed the work your dad offered him, he complained about it a lot.”

She put down her glass on the bed table, then took his hand. “We never did offer him full-time work, I think.”

“He wasn't capable of it. I'm not talking about that. He always wanted me to believe your family considered themselves better than us.”

Brooke's throat grew tight at the thought of a father making his son feel that way. “That's terrible, Adam. I'm so sorry.”

“I think the donated house made me remember that because there was a part of me last month that thought you offered me a job out of pity, remember?”

“And I told you that wasn't true.”

“I know at the worst it was a favor to my grandma, and it's obvious you really did need a ranch hand. I've felt useful, even valuable, and it's been a while since I felt that way. I'm letting go of the past.”

“I'm glad. So . . .” she began, trying to lighten the serious discussion, “now that we've broken in the bed, do you want to stay the night?”

He shook his head. “I still have nightmares, and I don't want to wake you up. Or maybe I'd hurt you thrashing about.”

Her heart ached for all he'd suffered, still so much in silence. She leaned forward and kissed him. “Can I take my chances?”

They stared into each other's eyes, and for a moment, she realized that only weeks ago, he would have refused.

But a smile played around his mouth, and his gaze dropped to her naked breasts. “I would, but you don't think the first night you're here, your family might wonder why I never came home?”

“Damn,” she whispered, briefly closing her eyes. “I leave home to find some independence, but you still live there!”

“You have no idea how much I regret it at this moment,” he said with mock solemnity.

“Then don't go yet.” She took his glass away, set it beside her own, then pushed him back into the pillows.

Chapter Twenty-two

T
o Adam's surprise, a lot of people showed up to work on the house being renovated for Scott Huang and his family. Brooke brought his grandma, who'd made pans of ziti to serve everyone dinner. In her wig she wore barrettes made of Italian flags for the Italian dinner. Adam liked his grandma's eccentricities—she was never boring.

He watched her as she leaned on her cane and looked over everything for the meal to be served later. He kissed her brow when she finally stood still long enough.

Grandma Palmer arched a surprised look at him. “What was that for?”

He shrugged, and she smiled.

Tyler and Steph arrived next, and Steph ended up being the most proficient with tools, after spending much of her life helping her dad at both the ranch and the Sweetheart Inn. She and Tyler went into the basement to help build storage shelves.

Tyler stuck his head past the basement door and said to Adam, “When my brother gets here, could you send him down?”

When a half hour went by, Adam came out of the master bedroom closet to find Tyler standing in the window, looking out at the storm.

“He didn't come yet?” Tyler asked, eyes narrowed, mouth pursed.

Adam shook his head. “Maybe he got held up by the weather.”

Tyler arched a brow, and said with sarcasm, “You may have been gone for ten years, but the rest of us are pretty good drivers in the snow.”

“And you with all your experience,” Adam said with a straight face.

But Tyler didn't crack a smile.

“Give him some time.” Adam put a hand on Tyler's bony shoulder.

The kid nodded.

An hour and a half later, everyone gathered in the kitchen to get in line for some of Grandma Palmer's legendary ziti. Adam smiled at the jostling people, feeling far more comfortable than he had just weeks ago. And then he spotted Brooke in the living room staring out the window just as Tyler had.

Adam frowned. “Have you seen Tyler?”

Brooke shook her head. “He and Steph are gone.”

He tensed, looking back outside, where he couldn't even see the other side of the street. “Are you certain?”

“Coach saw him leave, and didn't think anything about it. Steph was driving. Do you think  . . . ?”

“He went to find his brother,” Adam said with certainty. His stomach gave a twist. “It was my idea for him to bring Cody here, and Cody let him down.”

“Cody lets him down all the time, Adam,” Brooke said. “This isn't anything new.”

He shook his head. “Something was different this time. Tyler seemed determined to help, or to stop Cody from ruining his life for good. And now he's done something reckless—going out in this mess,” he said, pointing toward the window.

“Steph's a good driver, with a solid pickup. But I'll try her cell, just in case.”

Adam was standing close enough to Brooke that he could hear as it went to voice mail. He swore softly.

“They might have bad reception,” she said. “It happens all the time.”

They both knew the reception would be fine if the teenagers had stayed in Valentine. They were either deliberately not answering—or they'd left town in search of Cody.

“Adam?” Grandma Palmer called, limping into the living room. “You two should get in line before it's all gone.”

“I'm going to find Tyler, Grandma,” he said, rooting through the coats tossed on an empty box until he found his. “I'll be back soon.”

“I'm coming, too,” Brooke said.

“I already found your coat.”

Driving had gotten far worse in the last two hours, so he went as slow as he could, heading toward the Sweetheart Inn first, to look for Steph's truck.

“You have a death grip on the wheel,” Brooke said. “Cut yourself some slack. You aren't responsible for all the things that have happened to Tyler.”

“I wanted to give him the help I got,” Adam said between gritted teeth. “But maybe I made a mistake.” He told her about seeing Tyler joyriding one of the Thalbergs' ATVs.

She barely reacted. “So? You offered him a second chance, and we were able to be of some help. He told you things he never told anyone else, right?”

He nodded, but it didn't make him feel better. Tyler was out there somewhere, trying to stop his brother from doing—something. Cody's posse had to be far worse than Tyler's high-school friends.

When they didn't find Steph's truck at the inn, Brooke called the ranch, using a barrel-racing lesson as an excuse. They didn't want to worry anyone just yet. But Steph's mom said she was at the renovation project.

“Do you know where Tyler lives?” Adam asked Brooke.

She nodded.

“Guide me there.”

Steph's pickup wasn't in the parking lot of the apartment complex either.

He could have banged his head against the steering wheel in frustration. “Any idea where the bad kids hang out now?”

“Oh, hell, the town isn't very big,” she said. “Let's drive up and down the streets and look for her pickup.”

But it was as if Tyler and Steph had simply disappeared. There were few cars on the road with the snow so bad.

“They aren't here,” Adam admitted at last, pulling over to the side of the road near the only McDonald's in town.

“They wouldn't have been so foolish as to go out on the highway in this storm,” Brooke said, pointing to Highway 82 just ahead.

“There was an intensity about him tonight,” he insisted. “He's not letting this go. So if he was following his brother out of town, where would he go?”

“I can't believe he'd go to Aspen. What would be there for Cody? It's not like he's a thief looking for rich fools to fleece.”

“Then we go the other way, to Basalt. I just can't sit and wait.”

Leaving the shelter of the town buildings and entering the full force of the storm only made him even more aware of the danger Tyler and Steph could be in. They crept along the road well below the speed limit, flashers on, the window defrost blasting them in the face with heat. But that was the only way to keep the windshield from icing over. Snow blew directly into the headlights, distorting their perception like some kind of video game.

Neither of them spoke, as he needed all his concentration to stay on the slippery road. Occasionally they passed a car creeping along even slower than they were, but it was never Steph's pickup.

“What's that?” Brooke demanded, pointing ahead.

Through the snow, he could see the red flash of a flare on the far side of the highway.

“I think it's an accident,” she said quietly.

Adam gripped the wheel even tighter. As they got closer, they could see a car's hazard lights tilted at an awkward angle, and eventually he realized the vehicle had slid off into a ditch. A pickup. They couldn't see inside the fogged cab, and soon had to keep driving past.

“Was that Steph's?” he demanded.

Brooke twisted in her seat to look behind them. “It might be!”

He had to wait for the next light to make a safe U-turn without heading into a ditch themselves. It seemed to take forever to get back to the pickup, and all he could imagine was finding the kids hurt or bleeding, or—

And then the bright light of the flare finally appeared out of the swirling snow. He pulled in behind the pickup, flashing his high beams. For a moment, nothing happened, then the passenger door opened and a figure half fell, half jumped out of the tilted vehicle.

After trudging up the knee-high snow in the ditch, the person waved his arms. By their headlights, Adam could see the grinning face of Tyler.

“He looks pleased to see us,” she said dryly.

“Way too pleased.”

Adam and Brooke jumped out of their own pickup. Snow stung his face and tugged at his wool cap. He was tempted to yell out every worry, every fear, but he knew he'd only make things worse.

“Wow, are we glad you found us!” Tyler called, rubbing his arms.

Of course, his jacket couldn't even be called a winter coat.

“Steph's okay?” Brooke asked, speaking louder as the wind roared across the highway.

“She's in the pickup. It's tilted at such an angle it's hard to get out, and it's wet at the bottom of the ditch.” He pointed to the water that drenched him to his knees. “No point in both of us getting soaked.”

“You'll catch pneumonia like that!” Brooke said.

“It's warm in the cab,” Tyler insisted. “Do you have chains to pull us out?”

“What the hell happened?” Adam demanded. “Why did you drive out into this?” He flung both hands wide.

Tyler didn't even bother to look remorseful. “I had to find my brother, to stop him doing something crazy. I mean, he disappeared every night, and wouldn't tell me where he was going or what he was doing.”

“And did you find him?” Brooke said with exasperation, stamping her boots in the cold.

Wearing the most lighthearted grin, Tyler nodded as if he no longer had a care in the world. “He has a job! He's been going every night, but after all his talk about making something of himself, he didn't want me to know he was working at a fast-food place in Basalt. He was embarrassed! What an idiot!”

Adam glanced at Brooke, whose lips quivered as she strove to control a smile. “And you thought it was necessary to risk your lives to discover this
tonight
of all nights?” he demanded.

Tyler finally had the grace to wince and look around. “Yeah, I can see it looks pretty stupid now. And Cody
meant
to come to the house renovation, but he got called in to work at the last minute. I told Steph if there was any damage to the truck, I'd pay for it, though it might take me a while. I have to wait until my community service is over to get a job.”

“I'm not sure that'll satisfy her father.”

The last of Tyler's smile faded. “He already doesn't like me, and he doesn't even know Steph and I've been hanging together.”

“We can't deal with that now,” Adam said. “Let's get the chains out and see what we can do.”

It took some effort, but at last he was able to pull Steph's pickup back onto the road. The snow had died down somewhat, but not the wind. Brooke drove the teenagers in the pickup, and Adam followed behind, alone and thinking too many crazy thoughts about everything that could have gone wrong and thanking God for seeing the kids safe.

By the time they dropped Tyler off at his mom's, the snow had almost stopped, and Steph drove herself home, cheerfully waving good-bye to them as she passed. Adam returned the salute, shaking his head.

When he dropped Brooke off at her apartment, she gave him a quick kiss.

“Go take care of your grandma,” she murmured. “I'll see you at work tomorrow.”

Adam drove the couple blocks back to the Huang house in a thoughtful mood. Many of the cars and pickups were gone, but Coach was still there, keeping Grandma Palmer company in the kitchen over coffee.

Coach stood up when Adam walked in, and Grandma gave him an expectant look.

“Everything okay?” Coach asked.

Adam nodded and explained what had happened.

Coach shook his head. “Fool kids. You think they'd know better, being born and raised here.”

“Teenagers don't think things through,” Adam countered. “I know I didn't.” He turned to his grandma. “Ready to go?”

He helped her load her ziti pans and equipment on the back bench of the truck, and once at the boardinghouse, she made him come inside to eat his missed meal. They sat together in the cheerful kitchen, listening to the wind howl.

Grandma seemed to be patiently waiting for him to speak, and though he resisted, it was like words were drawn out of him.

“My parents were only a year older than Tyler when they had me,” he said at last, using his fork to push ziti around on his plate. “There's no maturity, no common sense at that age—and I should know.”

She sighed, cradling her mug of coffee. “Adam, you got a taste tonight of what it's like bein' a helpless parent. You lecture or you lead by example, you pray, you even beg, but in some ways, there's little you can do to make certain a teenager makes the right choices. And that I understand too well. Your mother always saw me as the enemy, and that hurt more than I can say.”

She gave another sigh that ripped at his stomach.

“I know you don't remember your grandpa, but he was good with your mom, who was twelve when he died. Nothin' seemed right after that.”

“I'm sure the drugs didn't help,” Adam said dryly. “Or even my birth.”

“I think there was more goin' on,” she answered after a long pause, “maybe some kind of mental illness.”

He frowned. “I've never heard that before.”

“She was always unstable, but she got worse the last few years of her life, and I began to realize that maybe drugs had masked her condition. But that's no excuse for my ignorance. She was my baby. I should have seen. Instead, I couldn't help her, and she died too young.”

He reached across the kitchen table and squeezed her hand. “You shouldn't carry so much guilt. She was an adult and made her own choices.”

“I could say the same to you,” she said quietly, her expression full of compassion. “And I'm not talkin' about Tyler. I know what happened in Afghanistan.”

She brought her other hand up to encompass his. Her warmth flowed into him.

“I knew somethin' was wrong from your first letter after the accident happened,” she continued. “When you were injured and so very silent, I wrote letters, I called, and Rosemary even found clues on the computer from newspaper articles. Yes, you were a hero to many men in the end, Adam, but the cost must have been so very difficult to bear. You don't have to speak of it—I know you blame yourself for the terrible accident, but you gotta know that others don't.”