The Rebel of Copper Creek (Copper Creek Cowboys) Page 8

  Whit circled around the truck. “Look. I heard what that loudmouth said. But it’s just the liquor talking. Halfway home, he’ll be sleeping it off.”

  “And if he’s not?” Griff’s voice was soft enough, but both Brady and Whit heard the edge of steel.

  Whit glanced at Brady before turning to Griff. “I’ll come with you.”

  Griff shook his head. “After the day you put in, you need to sleep. I’ll handle this.”

  Brady reached into his truck and removed a rifle. “Take this along. It’s a good companion on a long drive.”

  Griff weighed it in his hand before stowing it on a rack behind the seat. “Thanks.”

  Whit scrolled through his cell phone until he came to the number he was searching for. “Put this on speed dial.”

  Griff copied the number. When he looked up with a questioning frown, Whit grinned. “Police Chief Ira Pettigrew. A good guy to know.”

  As he stepped into the truck, Whit slapped his arm. “Just remember, bro. If you need me, I’ve got your back.”

  “I’ll remember.”

  Griff pulled away. In his rearview mirror he watched as Brady and Whit headed away from the interstate and turned toward home.

  Home. He had already begun thinking of the MacKenzie Ranch as home.

  He switched on the radio and listened to Carrie Underwood sing about dealing with a guy who did her wrong. It had him smiling as he thought about the way Juliet had stood up to Mitch in the barn.

  Yeah, he thought with a grin. She’d scratch a cheater’s car. Or scratch his eyes out. And she probably wouldn’t need any help doing it. But he had to make the long drive anyway. He knew there’d be no sleep for him until he had satisfied himself that she was safe.

  Griff drove along the gravel road. Up ahead, the big ranch house was in darkness. A good sign, he thought. If all the lights had been blazing, he’d have speeded up. But now, seeing the curtain of darkness, he felt relief pour through him.

  He cut the lights, so he wouldn’t wake Juliet or the boys. There was no sense causing them alarm.

  It was probably just as Whit had predicted. The drunken cowboys were already sleeping it off, and Mitch along with them.

  He glanced toward the barn, expecting to see the trucks. Rolling down his window, he heard the faint hum of engines, and he could see headlights moving along a hillside toward the highlands. Two rusted trucks remained. One was idling.

  Parking his truck alongside the others, he peered inside the truck with its engine idling, expecting to see someone asleep. Finding it empty, he felt the hair at the back of his neck prickling. He took up the rifle and made his way under cover of darkness toward the house. He wouldn’t wake Juliet. He would just walk the perimeter of the house to assure himself that Mitch wasn’t hanging around.

  He was halfway there when he realized the back door was standing wide open.

  Drawing near he heard Juliet’s voice: “…kind of trouble?”

  “An accident.” Mitch’s voice sounded extremely agitated. “Cooper said I should come and get you.”

  Griff stood in the shadows. By the glare of the overhead light in the mudroom he could see Juliet clearly, her hair disheveled, wearing a baggy T-shirt that fell to her knees.

  “But what can I do? Why didn’t Cooper phone the police?”

  “You’ll have to ask Cooper. Come on. Let’s get moving.”

  “I can’t just leave with you. I have two little boys asleep upstairs.”

  “You said yourself they’re sleeping. I’ll have you back before morning.”

  “How do you know that? What if we have to haul the accident victims all the way to town?”

  “We’ll stop here and pick up the kids. Come on. You’re wasting time.”

  Juliet dug in her heels. “You go ahead. I’ll put my boys in the back of the truck and drive myself to the hills.”

  “You won’t know where to find us.”

  Her voice turned to ice. “I’ll call Cooper and have him direct me to the camp. But right now, I need you to leave so I can go upstairs and deal with my boys.”

  Mitch made a sound that could have been a laugh or a groan of frustration as he kicked the door shut. “You’re not going to make this easy for me, are you? You’re just too damned smart for your own good.”

  Her head came up sharply. Her eyes narrowed on him. “What are you—?”

  He snaked out a hand and caught her by the wrist. “You look mighty fetching in that getup, ma’am.” He dragged her close. “You’ll look even better in nothing at all.”

  Before he could say more, the back door was kicked open and Griff’’s voice, deadly soft, was the only sound. “Step away from the lady, or you’re a dead man. You have five seconds to live.”

  “Who do you think—?” Mitch spun around.

  He took in the sight of Griff standing in the open doorway, eyes hard as granite, rifle aimed directly at Mitch’s head.

  The wrangler shot a look at Juliet. “So. It’s like that, is it? I can’t wait to spread the word around town that the MacKenzie bastard’s a new boarder at the widow Grayson’s ranch.”

  Griff never raised his voice. It was still little more than a whisper. But every word cut razor-sharp. “You had to the count of five. Now you’re down to four. Want to try for three?”

  Mitch’s furious reaction was to press one beefy arm around Juliet’s throat and twist around to face Griff, holding her firmly against him as a shield. “You wouldn’t want to shoot the wrong one now, would you?”

  Griff’s words remained deadly soft. “When I take aim I never hit the wrong target, whether it’s an enemy in combat or an ordinary scumbag. Now you have two seconds left.”

  Juliet dug her elbow into Mitch’s midsection at the same moment that she planted her heel in his groin with as much force as she could muster.

  Stunned, he released his hold on her.

  Griff used that moment to haul her behind him before taking careful aim.

  Mitch lifted his hands in a gesture of defeat. “Hold on. You can’t kill an unarmed man.”

  “I can and will if you’re still here in one second. It’d be justice for what you planned on doing to the lady.”

  At Griff’s words, Mitch raced past him and dashed out into the darkness.

  In that same instant Griff saw all the color drain from Juliet’s face as she sagged against the edge of the table.

  Instead of giving chase as he’d planned, he gathered her into his arms. When she went limp, he scooped her up and cradled her to his chest.

  The sound of a truck’s engine broke the stillness.

  Headlights drifted across the walls and ceiling before fading from view.

  Griff touched a hand to her cheek. “You all right?”

  She couldn’t speak. Instead she buried her face in the hollow between his neck and shoulder and struggled to keep from weeping.

  His voice was a whisper. “It’s okay to cry.”

  “I’m not crying. I never cry.” Even as she said it, his collar grew damp from her silent tears.

  All he could do was stand there, holding her as the aftershocks rolled through her. A trembling began in her legs and moved up all the way to the tips of her fingers, which were wrapped firmly around his neck. She held on to him as if he were a lifeline. Gradually, as the tears and the shaking passed, he carried her toward a chair and eased her down.

  He crossed the room and locked the back door before setting aside his rifle and dropping to his knees in front of her. Then he handed her his clean handkerchief. “Better now?”

  “A little.” She blew her nose before taking in deep drafts of air.

  He pulled his cell phone from his shirt pocket. “I need to call Chief Pettigrew.”

  She nodded.

  He felt a wave of gratitude to Whit as he touched the number programmed into his phone and waited as it rang several times. Then he heard the voice, gruff from sleep.

  “Ira Pettigrew here.”

  Griff han
ded the phone to Juliet, who said softly, “Chief, this is Juliet Grayson. One of my wranglers talked his way into my home and threatened to…hurt me.”

  “Give me a name.”

  “Mitchell Cord.”

  “I know him. Is he armed?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t see a weapon.”

  “Do you know where he is now?”

  “He left in one of my ranch trucks. He could be anywhere.”

  “Are you alone, Mrs. Grayson?”

  She hesitated for a moment before saying, “No. My two sons are here, and so is Griff Warren.”

  “Bear MacKenzie’s other son?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’d like to talk to him.”

  Juliet held out the phone to Griff.

  “Griff Warren, Chief.”

  “You witnessed this attempted assault?”

  “I did.”

  “I’d like you to accompany Mrs. Grayson when she comes into town tomorrow to swear out a warrant.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  “Thanks, Griff.” The chief cleared his throat. “Do you think Mitch might return and try again?”

  “If he does, he’ll face my rifle again.”

  “Again?”

  Griff turned away and kept his tone low. “I threatened him with my rifle. I intend to keep it handy in case he wants to try his luck one more time.”

  “Thanks, Griff. That’s all I need to know. I’ll see both of you in the morning. Until then, I’ll have my deputies keep an eye out in town for a Grayson Ranch truck.”

  Griff rang off and deposited his phone in his pocket. To give Juliet some time to compose herself, he said, “I’ll make some coffee.”

  Quickly, efficiently, he moved about the room, plugging in the coffeemaker, filling it with coffee and water, taking cups and saucers from a cupboard. When it was ready he filled two cups and brought them to the table.

  Juliet blew her nose and stared down into the cup, avoiding his eyes. “How did you know what Mitch was planning?”

  “He was at Wylie’s. Drunk and bragging.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t believe I let him in the door. But he said there’d been an accident in the highlands, and…” Her lips trembled. “I let down my guard. What would have happened if Casey or Ethan had come down those stairs?”

  Griff reached across the table to lay a hand over hers. “They didn’t. No sense borrowing trouble.”

  She let out a shuddering breath. “Heaven only knows what lies he’s spreading about me to the others.”

  “What do you care?”

  “I know. I shouldn’t.” She tried a sip of coffee, but her hand was shaking and she was forced to set the cup down with a clatter. “But I do care. I hate that he can lie and boast about his ‘conquests’ and people will believe him.”

  “Only a fool would believe a scumbag like Mitch.”

  He watched as she steadied her hand and took a drink of coffee before looking over at him. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

  “No thanks necessary. I’m just glad I followed my instincts.”

  “Your military training?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know if it’s military, or just plain common sense. If something doesn’t seem right, it probably isn’t.”

  “That’s going to become my mantra.” She paused. “Except that ever since coming here, nothing seems right.”

  He gave her a gentle smile. “Give it time, Juliet. You’ve got a lot going on in your life. But most of it is good. You’ve got two great boys. A ranch that holds a wealth of history for them. A chance to build a good life here for them and for yourself.”

  She let out a long, slow sigh. “You make it sound so easy.”

  “Maybe not easy. But possible.”

  She managed a weak smile. “Why is it that when you say it like that, I believe you?”

  Again he reached across the table to cover her hand with his. “Keep on believing. That’s all we can really do in this life. Believe things can be better.”

  He noted the color that had returned to her cheeks. “Why don’t you go up to bed?”

  She looked startled. “I couldn’t possibly sleep. What if he comes back?”

  Griff stood. “If he does, he’ll deal with me.”

  She made a feeble attempt to protest. “You can’t just stay here all night.”

  “I’m not leaving you alone.” He smiled. “I think I saw a sofa in that other room.”

  “It’s old and lumpy.”

  “Sounds perfect.” He turned away. “Go upstairs now. Get some sleep.”

  She paused. “Oh, Griff. How can I thank you?”

  “I’ll let you make me breakfast.”

  He watched as she started up the stairs. Halfway up she turned and mouthed Thank you.

  He winked before picking up the rifle and heading down the hallway toward the old parlor.

  The sofa was lumpy, as Juliet had said. Not that it mattered. He was so wired, he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep.

  It wasn’t just the thought of Mitch that had the adrenaline pumping through his veins. It was knowing he was just steps away from where Juliet Grayson, in that clingy T-shirt, was lying.

  He’d had plenty of time to feel that slender, perfect body, so clearly visible through the thin fabric of her nightshirt, pressed to him as he’d held her.

  The thought of holding her again was enough to have him up and pacing in the darkness.

  And the thought of Mitch Cord harming someone so wounded, so vulnerable, had all his protective instincts on high alert.

  Chapter Eight

  Juliet lay in bed, shivering despite the blanket.

  The thought of that braggart Mitch had her balling her hands into fists. He’d been making insulting comments ever since he’d started working here. But she’d never dreamed that his talk would turn to dangerous actions.

  How could she have been so careless?

  One minute she’d been sound asleep. The next she’d woke to the sound of someone pounding on her door. She’d taken every precaution, standing inside the locked door to ask what he wanted. But when he’d told her there’d been an accident in the hills and Cooper had sent him to fetch her, she’d been so startled, she’d forgotten all the rules she’d set for herself.

  What would have happened if Griff hadn’t arrived on the scene?

  She couldn’t put aside her fear. She knew, without a doubt, how this would have ended.

  She rolled to her side and drew the blanket over her head. She hated the fear that was now firmly planted in her heart. She’d been through so much. After dealing with the pain of Buddy’s accident, and watching him slowly lose the battle he’d fought so bravely to win, she’d honestly believed that there was nothing that could ever again have her trembling like a coward. But right now, right this moment, the only thing that kept her from curling into a fetal position was Griff Warren’s presence downstairs.

  Her fierce, avenging angel.

  He’d looked so calm, so in control. But she’d seen a flash of something feral and dangerous in his eyes that told her that beneath the air of cool command there had been a warrior poised to attack.

  She would be forever grateful for the way he’d taken over when she’d fallen apart.

  She hoped and prayed that police chief Ira Pettigrew would have Mitch in custody by morning, when she went to town to sign the documents needed to keep him safely away from her and her ranch. Otherwise, she would have to spend every day and night looking over her shoulder.

  That thought had her sighing as she fell into a deeply troubled sleep.

  Griff heard the sounds coming from the upper floor, indicating that Juliet and her sons were awake and moving. The occasional creaking of a floorboard. The sound of a shower running. Voices. Laughter.

  By the time they trooped down the stairs, he had bacon and eggs sizzling in a skillet, and was busy feeding bread into a toaster.

  He looked over to see the two little boys, eyes
as round as saucers, peering at him in surprise.

  “Mama, look.” Casey was grinning. “Griff’s here.” He turned to the man standing at the stove. “I didn’t hear your plane. When did you fly in?”

  “I didn’t fly. I drove. Good morning.” Griff glanced beyond the two boys to their mother, who paused uncertainly on the bottom step. “I thought, since I was here early, I’d make breakfast. I hope you all like your eggs sunny-side up.”

  “What’s sunny-side up?”

  “This.” Griff lifted down the skillet to show both boys the eggs. “See? Their yellow sides are called sunny sides.”

  “That’s how our mama makes them,” Casey said.

  Griff caught Ethan studying the colorful place mats of red and yellow and green, set with bright yellow plates and green paper napkins, all of which he’d found in one of the cupboards.

  “Look, Mama,” Casey called. “Griff used all the stuff you said was too good for us to use.”

  “Too good to use?” Griff winked at the little boys. “I think we should always use the good stuff. And do you know why?”

  “Why?” Casey asked.

  “Because we’re worth it.” He turned to include Juliet. “Why don’t the three of you sit down and I’ll serve your breakfast.”

  He carried a tray of glasses, some filled with orange juice and some with milk, and deposited them around the table before handing Juliet a cup of steaming coffee.

  After popping up the toast, he carried over a platter of toast and jelly and another of bacon and eggs, which he set in the middle of the table so they could help themselves.

  Finally he filled a cup of coffee for himself and took a seat at the table.

  “Well.” He took a moment to taste the coffee before looking around at the other three. “How did everyone sleep last night?”

  Casey answered for all of them. “I sleeped all night. And now I’m glad, ’cause this is the best breakfast ever. Isn’t it, Mama?”

  She was grateful for the easy banter between Griff and Casey. It gave her time to compose her crazy heart, which was beating a wild tattoo in her chest.

  She smiled and nodded. “You’re right, Casey. This is the best ever. And do you know why?”

  “Why?” Casey’s eyes were big and round.