A Rich Man for Dry Creek / a Hero for Dry Creek (29 page)

“It's my favorite.” Garrett figured as long as he was lying he might as well go all the way. And he could convince himself that peppermint tea was nothing but a liquid breath mint and a breath mint was a good dating move. Even a trucker would understand the need for a breath mint.

“Reno doesn't like it, but tea always warms me up on a cold night,” Nicki said as she put the kettle on the stove and almost fanned herself without thinking. The night might be cold, but she didn't need warming up. What she needed was something to relax her and keep her sensible. In case the tea wasn't enough, Nicki also turned on the radio and started to move the knob. “How about some news?”

Garrett knew he didn't have much time to store up his memories of Nicki and there were many things they hadn't done together. Listening to the news wasn't top on his list of memories to make. In fact, it didn't even make it to the bottom of the list. “Here, let me find a station.”

Garrett stepped over to the radio and turned the knob until he found what he wanted. The sounds of a slow-moving song softly filled the kitchen. “Care to dance?”

“In the kitchen?” Nicki stood with the kettle in her hand. She was ready to pour the hot water into the teapot.

Garrett shrugged. “We're on a date. We can dance anywhere.”

Nicki set the kettle back on the stove. “I used to dance in the kitchen with my mother.”

Garrett smiled. “I know. You told me.”

Nicki knew she shouldn't dance in the kitchen. It was opposed to everything she had done with her life since her mother had left. It spoke of foolishness and dreams of impossible fantasies. It was definitely not sensible. “My dance shoes don't fit me anymore.”

“It doesn't matter if you dance barefoot.” Garrett held out his arms to her. “You can even dance in your boots if you want.”

“I really shouldn't,” Nicki said, but her feet betrayed her and she moved toward Garrett anyway. “I haven't danced in years.”

Try twenty-two years, Nicki thought to herself as she melted into Garrett's arms. She'd avoided dances in high school for more reasons than because she'd never had a serious boyfriend. Dancing was for women like Nicki's mother, not for women like Nicki.

“I don't know how to dance,” Nicki murmured even as she felt her feet giving lie to what she was saying. Her feet were moving in rhythm with Garrett. She hadn't forgotten a thing about dancing over the years. Except—“My mother used to let me lead.”

Garrett smiled into her hair. “I'm not your mother.”

Oh, my, Nicki thought. She really should have that cup of tea. It would settle her stomach and make the butterflies leave. But Garrett pulled her even closer and she forgot about the tea.

By the end of the second song, Nicki had also forgotten about the ranch and the dinner tomorrow. She'd even forgotten that Reno was out on the road coaxing the old cattle truck home tonight. All she knew was that she was dancing with Prince Charming, and he was holding her like she was a princess to him.

Meanwhile, on the open road about ten miles from Dry Creek, Montana

R
eno Redfern cursed turkeys everywhere. Or was it pilgrims he needed to curse?

He was lying on his back on the road embankment somewhere between Miles City and Dry Creek while looking up at the underside of his old truck. The ground was frozen solid beneath his back and oil was dripping on his forehead. And it was all because he was trying to get his truck running so he would be home for Thanksgiving.

Not that Nicki or he would be cooking any turkey. But he knew that it was important that he be home for his sister so that they could ignore the day together.

Before Reno had slid under his truck he had looked at his watch and it showed it was almost midnight. His first hope had been that someone would stop by and give him a ride into Dry Creek. From there he could call Nicki and she could come get him. But there wasn't much traffic on this road at noon during a busy day; he doubted there'd be any passing through at this hour the night before a holiday.

That leaking oil made him think there was engine trouble in the old truck. He wondered if they could find a used truck anywhere for a thousand dollars or so that would have enough power to get their cattle to market. He figured a thousand was as high as they could go unless they went into debt, and Redferns never went into debt.

Reno sighed. It wasn't always easy to have one's ancestors looking over your shoulder, but that's the way it had been for him and Nicki. If they even thought of doing something different, several kind souls in Dry Creek would remind them that the Redferns never did it that way.

The only thing the town had ever let them change was the Thanksgiving dinners the ranch used to hold for the whole community. Reno knew that was because they felt sorry for Nicki and him ever since their mother had abandoned them.

Reno felt the rumble of a vehicle coming down the road before he turned and saw the lights.

Hallelujah! Those lights were too high for a car so they must belong to a truck or at least a pickup. It was probably some farmer coming back from somewhere and that suited Reno just fine. A farmer wouldn't mind the smell of the oil that would hang around Reno even after he wiped the actual oil itself off of his forehead. Besides, Reno always had something to talk about with another man.

Reno heard the truck start to slow and so he figured he might as well try to plug that oil leak as best as he could. No sense leaving an oil spill like that on the ground. He'd already have to dig up the dirt around the oil or nothing would grow there for the next decade. Reno wadded up his handkerchief and jammed it up into the underbelly of the truck.

If Reno hadn't been concentrating on his handkerchief, he would have noticed earlier that the man had an awfully light footstep. And that he made a tinkling sound when he walked.

Not that Reno was in a position to be fussy about his company.

“Nice of you to stop—” Reno began as he slid himself out from under the old truck.

What the—? Reno was looking up into the night's darkness and there standing in front of the headlights was a woman who shone and glittered from the top of her low-cut dress to the bottom of its too-short hem. “What are you, an angel?”

Reno was prepared to die right then and there if she was. My, she was a sight to behold, all curvy and golden in the light.

“No,” the woman said, and her voice started to tremble. “I'm a bride.”

That's when Reno saw the tear that trailed down the woman's cheek. If there was anything that made him more nervous than a woman, it was a woman who was crying. “Ah, ma'am—”

Reno reached for his handkerchief—which was a futile thing to do considering he'd already used it to plug another leak. “Look, ma'am, don't cry. It's going to be okay.”

“No, it's not.” The woman started crying in earnest now. “He never did love me.”

Reno figured he didn't know anything about angels and even less about crying women, but he did know one thing for sure. He pulled himself to his feet so he could say it square. “The man's a fool then if he can't see who you are.”

“That's right,” the woman said, and she took a shaky breath. Then she started to cry again. “But he's not the one who got be-betrayed.”

Reno usually didn't feel comfortable when he met a new woman. He always worried that he had salad stuck in his teeth or that his conversation was boring or his hair was doing something funny. But this woman was so wound-up, she wouldn't notice if he had a tree growing out of his skull.

“That bad, huh?” Reno asked. He nodded sympathetically. “Then we'll just have to go get him.”

The woman nodded a little uncertainly. “Get him?”

“Yeah, we could do a pie in the face. That's always good. Or maybe a kick in the seat of the pants. Or—”

The woman had stopped crying and was smiling just a little. “We could sell his name to a hundred telemarketers.”

“That's the spirit.”

“Or tell his new girlfriend what a creep he is.”

Reno nodded. “Or we could drive into the next town of Dry Creek and get us a cup of coffee if the café is still open.”

“Oh—” The woman smiled even wider. “Are we close to Dry Creek? I thought I'd never get there.”

“You're going to Dry Creek? Not just through Dry Creek?”

The woman nodded. “Actually, I'm going to the Redfern Ranch near there to visit a friend.”

Reno knew every friend Nicki had made since she was ten years old and none of them could be this vision in front of him. And he'd certainly know if she was a friend of his. That meant the woman was either truly an angel or she was thoroughly confused. Reno's bet was on confused. She probably had the Redfern Ranch mixed up with the Russell Dude Ranch that was located two counties away.

But stopping by the Redfern Ranch wouldn't make her late for seeing her friend whoever the friend was. Not even the cowboys would be up at the Russell Ranch at this time of night.

“What a coincidence! I'm going to the Redfern Ranch, too. Do you mind if I ride along?”

“Would you? I can't figure out where I'm going at night like this. There's not even any signs anyplace.”

“I'd be happy to show you the way.”

G
arrett hadn't slept at all during the night. Instead he had lain on the sofa in the living room of the Redfern Ranch until a faint light started to seep into the windows. He just kept asking himself if what he felt was happiness. He'd never expected to be happy in life and he didn't quite know what to make of it.

The feeling had started last night when he and Nicki waltzed around the kitchen floor. They hadn't talked much; they'd just snuggled together and moved to the music.

It was the feeling of belonging that made him first suspect it was happiness. Garrett had never belonged anywhere, not even when he was growing up with his father. They hadn't had a home; they had only had an address. Garrett wandered the streets and his father drank. His father never acted as if Garrett belonged at home. In fact, he always seemed surprised to see him there.

When Aunt Rose had mentioned taking him into her home when he was sixteen, Garrett had been terrified. A real home with a real family was foreign to him. He'd felt awkward, as though he would be all elbows in a place like that. And he hadn't gotten any better. But here he was. Longing for something that scared him spitless.

It was all Nicki's fault.

He hadn't been happy, but he'd at least been content before he met her.

The one dependable thing about going from place to place as a trucker was that he was safe. There was no one to disappoint him and no one he could disappoint. He didn't have to say any goodbyes because no one ever expected him to stay anyway. It wasn't the best way to live, but it didn't involve any risk to his heart, either.

And now there was Nicki. She had become home to him and he'd never be safe from heartache again.

Well, Garrett told himself, there was no sense in brooding about it. A man didn't break trucking records because he believed in taking the slow route. There was no going back to the way things were. Nicki had danced her way into his heart, and the only way he knew to remove her was to prove to himself that she wouldn't marry him if he were the last man on the earth.

He figured that's pretty much how it would stack up if she chose Lester over him.

Garrett shifted the pillow under his head and eased farther into the sofa. There was no point in getting up yet. He'd lie here and try to figure out how to ask Nicki to marry him so that he could make a quick getaway when she said no.

Knowing he couldn't stay once she'd rejected him meant he'd have to wait until after the dinner to ask Nicki anything. He couldn't leave her with all of those people to feed and it would be uncomfortable for both of them to work together after she'd said no. Lester sure wasn't the kind of guy to stay around and help with the dishes so Garrett had already decided he'd be the one with his hands in the hot water.

Given the number of people coming for dinner and the amount of pots and pans that would be used, Garrett figured he had a good ten hours left of this happy feeling. Maybe he should get out a piece of paper and write down how it felt so he could read it to himself when he was old and gray.

Now that was a depressing thought.

 

Upstairs, Nicki stared at the ceiling. She'd been afraid to sleep. She knew if she started to dream she would see the real face of Prince Charming in her dreams. Hadn't she read somewhere that if a person died in their dream, they died in real life? Well, it probably wasn't true. But why chance it? The very least that would happen is that her dream would dissolve into tears, and she didn't want that to happen.

Her dreams might have been annoying to her before last night, but at least they weren't self-tormenting nightmares that involved a lot of tears and gnashing of teeth.

The dark in her room got a very little bit lighter. In a few minutes, the darkness would be tinged with pink and Thanksgiving Day would begin. At least the kitchen would be crowded with all kinds of people before too long. There would be no time for quiet dancing with Garrett so she wouldn't have to worry about stopping herself from asking him to dance with her again.

Nicki sat up when she could see the pink of the sun outside her window. Maybe if she got up and fixed some coffee she would feel better. There was no mail today so Lester wouldn't be coming by, but the coffee would settle her stomach anyway.

Nicki tightened the belt on her chenille robe as she tiptoed down the stairs. She didn't want to wake either Garrett or her mother. The day would be long enough even if it started an hour later.

The staircase in the old house went from the second floor hallway to the kitchen and Nicki was grateful for the fact. Garrett was asleep on the sofa and she didn't want him to know that she hadn't been able to sleep. She supposed he was used to nights like last night, but she wasn't.

Nicki almost expected the kitchen to be changed when she got down the stairs and looked up. But there was no golden web covering the room and no sprinkling of fairy dust on the counter. The refrigerator was still old and gurgling. The sink by the window was chipped and the faucet still needed replacing. There was no sign whatsoever that a fairy tale had been born here last night.

At least the coffeepot still sat on the counter by the sink and Nicki walked over to fill the unit with water. Her feet were bare and the linoleum was icy cold so she hurried to reach the rug in front of the sink.

Nicki turned the faucet and the water line hiccuped once before water started to pour out. She put the pot under the faucet before she looked out the window. The night was still dark and no snowflakes were falling like they had been yesterday morning. But—Nicki peered out the window more closely—what was that?

The limousine was parked under the old tree, but there to the side of the limo was a big shadow of something that was as high as the lower branches on the tree.

The pot wasn't full of water yet, but Nicki pulled it away from the stream of water and set it on the counter. She wasn't going to question her sanity again over something strange appearing in the night. She'd just get her broom handle and go investigate.

“Good morning,” Garrett said from the doorway that opened into the living room. He had heard Nicki's footsteps and then the sound of running water. “How are you this morning?”

“Well, I'm not crazy,” Nicki said firmly as she walked toward the coat rack beside the refrigerator. “I'm going to do what I should have done when you were out there and take the broom to it—whatever it is.”

“Okay.” Garrett wasn't so sure about her not being crazy. Not that it mattered when she was so cute in that robe of hers. “Chickens get out or something?”

Nicki had wrapped a knit scarf around her neck by the time Garrett walked over to the door. He'd at least had the sense to put a shirt and his overalls on as well as his shoes.

“That broom'll flatten a chicken.” Nicki had picked up the broom handle she'd greeted Garrett with yesterday morning. “Maybe you need to take something smaller.”

“There's some funny thing out there.” Nicki waved toward the window. “Looks like a truck with only its nose.”

Garrett took four big steps to the window. “That's Big Blue.”

“Your truck? I thought it was still in Vegas.”

“It was.” Garrett wondered if Nicki would let him borrow her broom. “And the reason it's only the nose is because she's not hooked up to a load. She shouldn't be here.”

“Well, do you think someone stole it?”

Garrett nodded. “And she'd better have a good reason.”

“I'll let you know,” Nicki said as she finished wrapping the scarf around her neck.

“You're not going anywhere.” Garrett put his hand out for the broom handle. “You shouldn't be out investigating strange things anyway. What if there was something dangerous?”

“Well, it's no better for you to be out there if there's trouble.”

Garrett kept his hand outstretched. “Yes, it is.”

Nicki's chin went up. “Just because you're a man—”

“It's not because I'm a man,” Garrett said as he looked down at Nicki's feet. “It's because I've got shoes on my feet.”

“Oh.” Nicki handed him the broom handle. “I forgot you wanted to be every woman's hero anyway.”

Garrett grinned as he took the broom handle and grabbed a jacket off the coat rack. Nicki's eyes were sparking again. “Not every woman's hero. Just yours, sweetheart.”

Garrett was out the door before Nicki had her breath back. Sweetheart. She'd never thought she liked any of those “darling” names that men called women. Lester had called her Pumpkin once and she'd snapped his head off. But “sweetheart” was kind of nice. At least it didn't call to mind something that was fat and orange.

Nicki decided she'd take some of the coffee cake out of the freezer so she, Garrett and Lillian could have a nice breakfast before they started getting ready for the dinner. It was something she would have done for any other guests.

The fact that she could already hear herself humming while she made the eggs, well, that was just a holiday thing.

Outside, the temperature had to be close to zero degrees. Garrett had put the jacket on the second he walked out the door and he had still felt his breath catch in his throat. The ground cracked beneath his shoes because of all the frost.

Big Blue was darker than the just-dawning sky, but Garrett could easily make out the white letters of Hamilton Trucking on the driver's door. Chrissy had done a good job of parking the truck beside the limo. There wasn't that much room between the car and the fence and Big Blue fit in snugly.

Maybe Chrissy had learned a thing or two about driving since he'd given her those quick two lessons in Vegas in case she needed to move Big Blue while he was gone. Of course, she didn't have a trucker's license. It was a fool thing to just take off in Big Blue.

Garrett put his hand on the door of Big Blue. It was cold enough to give a man frostbite. The windows were all frosted over. He hoped Chrissy had had the sense to turn on the small heater he had in back by the bed. If she had, she'd have been comfortable enough for the night.

Garrett knew Nicki's broom handle wouldn't do him any good in a fight, but he felt better keeping it with him anyway. At least if he had the broom, Nicki wasn't going out chasing something else. So he pulled the broom up with him as he opened the door to Big Blue and stepped up.

The night was still dark and Garrett couldn't see much inside of the truck's cab. There was nothing wrong with his hearing, however, and he definitely heard two grunts of surprise. One of them was Chrissy. The other was from a man.

She's gone and brought Jared with her, Garrett thought to himself as he plastered a smile on his face. He was going to have to be cordial to that man if it killed him.

“Garrett,” the wail came from Chrissy, and Garrett saw movement in the bed area.

“Come in and shut the door,” Chrissy said as she hugged a jacket to her and moved closer to the front seats in the truck. She was dragging half of the blankets with her. “It's freezing out there.”

Garrett sat in the driver's seat and closed the door. He set the broom handle in the passenger's seat and turned around.

“I hope you and Jared had a good night's sleep.” Garrett put his smile back on. He could be pleasant.

“I slept like a baby,” Chrissy said sweetly. “I doubt Jared slept at all if he heard the things we were plotting to do to him last night.”

“We?” Garrett made the connection as he looked at the other form in the bed. Jared didn't have a muscle to spare on his body and the arm that was reaching up to pull the rest of the blankets back had muscles to spare.

“What do you mean ‘we'?” Garrett whispered as he took back the broom handle. “Who's here with you?”

“Well,” Chrissy said as she yawned, “I couldn't find the place, you know. Dry Creek isn't on any of the maps I got in Salt Lake. I thought there would be signs, but no. I was lucky that his truck had broken down and he needed a ride.”

“That's a hitchhiker back there?” Garrett wondered what decade he was in. Any sensible woman knew not to pick up a hitchhiker in this day. Especially on a back road in Montana. Especially at night. “What were you thinking?”

Didn't his cousin watch the news?

“Well, he's not really a hitchhiker. I mean, I know I gave him a ride and all, but—”

Garrett was no longer listening to Chrissy. “Why don't you go in the house and wait for me?”

“But he belongs here. It's not like I just picked up someone,” Chrissy protested as she crossed her arms and refused to move.

The man in the bed swung his legs around and put his hand on Chrissy's arm. “That's okay. I want to ask him what he's doing with Nicki's broom anyway.”

“You know Nicki?” Garrett frowned. This man looked as if he would be a whole lot more trouble than that Lester fellow. He had a faint smear of oil on his forehead and the air of a man used to taking charge.

The man nodded. “I'm her brother.”