The Rebel of Copper Creek (26 page)

“Is that all you want, Heywood?” Despite the pain and terror that gripped her, Juliet managed to lower her voice. Soften it. “Someone to care about you?”

His eyes narrowed. “I wanted you to look at me the way you looked at your husband all those long days and weeks and months in the VA hospital.”

“I can do that, Heywood. But first, you have to let Ethan go.”

He shook his head. “Don't try to fool me with that act. You're too late.” His voice rose to a shout. “I'm not stupid. I know there are a dozen or more cops watching my every move. I know that you've got sharpshooters getting ready to take me out. You know what I have to say to that? Welcome, all of you. I'm ready to let you end my misery.”

He released Juliet's hand while he leaned down to draw Ethan closer.

With a smile he spoke in a loud, clear voice. “Go ahead. See? I'm not holding them. You've got a clear shot. Put me out of my misery.”

Griff watched as the shadowy figures stood and took careful aim.

All the hairs on the back of his neck bristled, and he struggled to figure out what was wrong with the picture in front of him.

Sperry, happily begging to be shot. Sperry, damaged veteran, wounded munitions expert.

Munitions.

He studied the front of Sperry's shirt. The slight bulge beneath it that could be concealing explosives.

“Stop!” Even though he knew it was too late, Griff was shouting at the top of his lungs, “Sperry's wired to blow and kill them all.”

At the same instant that he saw the flash of gunfire, he leapt across the distance separating him from Juliet and Ethan and flung them aside before falling on top of them, shielding them with his body as a terrible explosion ripped through the clearing, lighting up the sky.

The scene erupted in chaos as the police and the MacKenzie family raced forward from all directions, shouting, swearing, forming a tearful circle around the charred earth and what was left of Heywood Sperry.

The impact of the explosion had left Griff dazed and disoriented. His shirt and one boot had been blown away, revealing a body bearing dozens of bloody wounds. A body lying as still as death.

Beneath him, shielded from flying debris, Ethan and Juliet crawled free. Seeing Griff's still, bloodied body, Ethan flung himself against Griff, burying his face in Griff's neck, sobbing as though his heart had been broken.

Ash pushed Mad across the clearing, pausing beside Griff and Ethan. The old man tried to lift the boy into his arms, but Ethan evaded his touch and clung to Griff.

The little boy's words were torn from a throat raw with tears. “Please, Griff. Don't die, Griff. Please don't die.”

As the medics moved in, Griff stirred, hearing a voice from so far away, he wondered if he were merely dreaming.

It came again, louder. A little boy's voice that he'd never heard. And yet, even with his eyes closed, he recognized it as Ethan's.

“You can't die, Griff. Please.”

Griff roused himself enough to whisper, “I… won't die, Ethan.” He tasted his own blood and swallowed before managing, “I have…too much to live for.”

Around them, nobody spoke. Nobody moved.

Despite the destruction, Juliet and the MacKenzie family knew in their hearts that they'd just witnessed a miracle.

G
riff lay on the examining table in the Copper Creek Clinic while Dr. Dan Mullin and his assistant, Kate Kelly, treated the dozen or more burns caused by the explosion.

“Looks like you enjoy living dangerously,” Dr. Mullin muttered.

“I may have, once upon a time. Now, I think I've had enough of it.” Griff looked at Juliet, who was seated on the other side of the bed, clinging tightly to his hand. Her other arm was around Ethan's shoulders.

The little boy and his mother had been examined by the doctor and pronounced fit. Even the sedative administered by Heywood Sperry had now worn off, leaving no side effects in little Ethan's system.

The boy kept his gaze locked on Griff, as though afraid to look away for fear his hero might disappear.

Juliet, too, was watching the examination with fearful eyes.

When Dr. Mullin stepped aside, the door to the examining room burst open and the entire MacKenzie family surged forward, surrounding the bed.

Myrna released Casey's hand, and he flew across the room and into his mother's arms. After kissing her, he turned to his brother and wrapped his arms around Ethan's neck. “Myrna said you were safe, Efan. Were you scared?”

Ethan nodded.

“But you saved me from that mean man. How'd you know what to do, Efan?”

“I didn't. But Daddy told me I had to be the man of the family and always take care of the baby Mama had growing inside her. And that baby was you, Casey. So I knew I had to do something to save you.”

Casey's jaw had dropped at his first words. “Efan. You're talking.”

Ethan smiled for the first time. “I guess I am.”

“How come?”

Ethan shrugged. “I don't know. The words just started when I thought the mean man killed Griff. You should have seen Griff, Casey. He was a hero just like Daddy, and I was afraid he'd die like Daddy did.” He turned to look at the man in the bed before ducking his head.

Hearing him, Griff reached out and closed a hand over Ethan's shoulder. “There's only one hero in this room, Ethan. And that's you. You saved Casey and ended up being taken prisoner in his place. And that's just about the bravest thing anyone can do.”

“I was scared,” he said softly.

“We were all scared. But you kept your head, Ethan. You did the right thing. And that's what counts.”

“So, lad.” Mad wiped a tear from his eye before leaning close to squeeze Griff's arm. “The doc says you won't have to be flown to the hospital in Billings.”

“Actually,” the doctor remarked as he removed his gloves, “what I said was that Griff refused to be flown to Billings. There's a difference.”

“Of course there is.” Mad was grinning. “Despite the name, he's a MacKenzie. A little explosion isn't going to scare him.”

“It had me scared.” Ash stood at the foot of the bed with his arm around his wife's waist.

Brenna nodded. “When I heard those explosives going off, I was terrified.”

“We all were.” Whit glanced at his mother, who had dropped into a chair beside the bed. Before he could go to her, Brady was there, offering her a glass of water, his hand on her shoulder for comfort.

She accepted it with a smile of gratitude, and closed her hand over his.

Mad patted Griff's arm. “Will you be coming home tonight?”

“That's up to the doctor.”

Dr. Mullin studied Griff's face before saying, “I'd prefer you have a night here. I'd like to keep an eye on some of those deeper burns, to watch for any sign of infection.”

Griff nodded. “That's it, then. I'll come home tomorrow.”

The others began settling into chairs and lounges, ready to stand guard over their own.

Seeing what they intended, the doctor shook his head. “You can't all stay through the night. This is a medical clinic. There are sick people here who need their rest. Kate will see you out now.”

His assistant opened the door and stood waiting, giving them no chance to refuse. Grumbling loudly, the MacKenzie family got to their feet and began to say their good-byes.

After all but Juliet and her boys had left, Dr. Mullin turned to her with a smile. “If you'd like to stay the night, I can have Kate bring in another bed for your sons, and a lounge chair for you.”

Surprised, she started to protest. “But you said—”

“That was for Griff's benefit, Mrs. Grayson. The MacKenzie clan can be overwhelming until you learn to take them in small doses. But I have a feeling that you and your boys would be the perfect medicine for Griff.” He paused. “Shall I get that bed and lounge?”

She smiled and nodded. “Yes, please.”

When all was in place, she watched as her two boys climbed into the bed and soon fell into an exhausted sleep. Then she stretched out on the lounge positioned directly beside Griff's bed. As she drew up a blanket, his hand found hers.

With a deep sigh of contentment, she absorbed the warmth of him, the strength of him, before drifting into sleep.

“They're coming.” Whit hurried inside the ranch house to give the heads-up to Myrna and Mad, who had been cooking all day.

In honor of this happy homecoming celebration, Myrna had baked a four-layer vanilla torte, with whipped cream and strawberries between each layer, while Mad prepared a slow-cooked pot roast with all the trimmings. There were creamy mashed potatoes, garden peas, and a salad of greens and vine-ripened tomatoes, freshly picked and tossed with his homemade sour-cream ranch dressing.

The family gathered on the back porch as the truck driven by Juliet, and bearing Griff and her boys, rolled to a stop. The minute they stepped out, they were surrounded by MacKenzies with hugs and kisses and high fives.

Mad's wheelchair rolled down the ramp, and the old man held out his arms. Ethan and Casey launched themselves close for hugs before snuggling onto his lap for a ride to the house.

Even before everyone was inside, the police chief drove up. As he stepped out of his vehicle he called, “I hope I'm in time for supper.”

“Perfect timing, Ira,” Mad called as he shook the chief's hand.

When they stepped inside the kitchen, Griff breathed deeply before hugging Myrna. “This place has a smell like no other. I can't quite place it.”

The old woman beamed. “Maybe it smells like home.”

His smile was quick. “Yeah. That's what it is.”

While Whit and Ash passed around cold longnecks, Myrna held out a tray of lemonade for Casey and Ethan.

Ash turned to Griff. “How are the burns healing?”

Griff shrugged. “Doc seems happy, so I guess they're fine.”

Mad's head came up sharply. “Are you in pain, son?”

Griff was quick to shake his head. “Not enough to complain. Just enough to be uncomfortable.”

The chief cleared his throat. “What you did up there on Bald Mountain was amazing, Griff. If you hadn't acted so quickly…” He took a sip of ice-cold lemonade. “Someone should have realized what that creep was planning.”

“Someone did,” Whit said. “And just in the nick of time.”

The chief nodded. “That's just the point. All those experts, and not one of them thought about the fact that Heywood Sperry had cleverly planned his own death. He just wanted to add to our misery by having one of us pull the trigger that would end three lives in such a spectacular fashion. It would have had the rest of us reliving the horror of it for a lifetime.”

Just hearing those words had Griff touching Juliet's arm, as if to assure himself that she was really here with him. “I had a sense that something wasn't right. That something was missing. And then I realized what it was. Sperry's anger. Always before, he hated everybody and everything. But there, he seemed almost euphoric about the fact that he had this captive audience. I added that to the fact that his specialty in the military was munitions, and I just knew he'd decided to put on a really big show.”

Ira Pettigrew shook his head. “We'd have played right into his hands if you hadn't spoiled his carefully laid plans, Griff.”

The group fell silent as they contemplated the enormity of what had happened.

When at last Myrna called them to supper, the family crossed the room, circling the table. Mad rolled his wheelchair to the far end and invited Casey and Ethan to sit on either side of him. Willow sat at the other end, with Brady on her right and Whit on her left. Ash and Brenna, arms around each other, sat side by side, while the chief took a seat on the other side of Ash. Griff took Juliet's hand and led her to a chair across from Brenna before taking the seat beside her.

Throughout the long meal, while the others raved about the pot roast, the creamy potatoes, the garden vegetables, Griff ate in silence. When at long last Myrna began slicing the torte and topping each slice with vanilla ice cream, Ethan and Casey were the first to dive in.

“Cake, Griff?” Myrna said as she paused beside his chair.

“No, thanks, Myrna. I'll just enjoy my coffee.”

“Juliet?” She held out a plate, but Juliet shook her head. “Not tonight, Myrna. But thank you.”

With a raised eyebrow, the old woman circled the table, passing out dessert, and then refilling coffee cups.

Mad looked over at Griff. “You're quiet, lad.”

Griff shrugged. “I guess it's all catching up with me.”

“You're hurting?”

He shook his head.

“Having a flashback to a battle?” Ash asked.

Griff considered that before saying, “Maybe that's it. I never thought I'd be grateful for three tours of Afghanistan. But without it, I never would have been able to think like Sperry.”

“All of us are grateful, too, lad.” Mad watched as the family gathered around him. “There's an old Scottish saying: ‘Every road we've taken leads us to where we need to be now.'” He paused to swallow down the lump in his throat. As always, when emotion took over, his burr thickened. “I hope you understand. 'Twas no accident that brought you to this place. You needed to be here, Griff Warren, with your family. Just as your family needed you to be here at this moment in time.”

To keep the tone from growing too somber, it was Whit who deadpanned, “At least this time he didn't quote dear old Robbie Burns, his favorite poet.”

“You'll not speak ill of Robbie,” the old man said. Then, when he realized that his grandson was baiting him, he turned to the little boys beside him. “Remind me to tell you sometime about Robert Burns, Scotland's favorite son, lads.”

Whit winked at the others. “Ah. Another generation about to be lectured on the beauty of poetry, especially that of the Ploughman Poet himself.”

“It's glad I am to know that at least a little of those lectures have sunk into that fuzzy brain of yours, Whit MacKenzie. Now, lads”—Mad turned to the two little boys—“climb onto my lap and we'll go in the great room and sit by the fire while I tell you a bit about Scotland, and our beloved Robbie Burns.”

“Maybe you could save that for another night, Mad.” Griff was up and standing stiffly behind Juliet's chair. “I think it's time I got Juliet and the boys home.”

Mad looked from Griff, who looked fierce enough to fight a dozen Heywood Sperrys, to Juliet, who appeared confused by this sudden turn. “If you say so, lad.”

The two boys hopped off Mad's lap and walked over to stand on either side of their mother.

With her sons beside her, Juliet moved slowly around the table, hugging everyone and offering thanks for the lovely meal. Then she and Ethan and Casey trailed Griff out the door.

He held out his hand. “I know you drove here, but I'm feeling strong enough to drive now.”

Without a word she handed him her keys and helped the boys into the back before settling herself in the passenger's seat.

On the long drive home, while Juliet kept up a running conversation with Ethan and Casey, Griff drove in silence. Finally, as the headlights swept the house, he pulled up to the back porch before turning off the ignition.

Juliet leaned back a moment, drinking in the view. “I really feared that I'd never see this place again.”

“Yeah. I know what you mean.” Griff's voice was hushed.

“It's funny. For the longest time this ranch didn't feel like home. I was here to keep a promise to Buddy. But now…” She shook her head, trying to take it all in. “Now it's really mine. Oh, I'm still not a rancher. But I deserve to be here.” She turned to Griff. “Does that make any sense?”

“It makes perfect sense to me.” He climbed out and circled around to help her and the boys down from the truck.

Keeping her hand in his, he walked with her up the wide porch steps, and stood aside as she opened the back door.

“Casey and Ethan, you can go upstairs and get ready for bed, and I'll be up in a few minutes to tuck you in.”

The boys ran ahead, eager for their own beds after a night at the clinic.

“Would you like coffee?” Without waiting for Griff's reply, she plugged in the coffeemaker and set out two mugs.

Turning, she saw him staring out the window at the darkened sky. “You're quiet tonight.”

“I've got a lot on my mind.”

She walked up beside him. “Anything you'd like to share?”

He gave a quick shake of his head. “You've been through so much.”

“So have you.”

He turned then, and the look in his eyes had her heart dropping to her toes. “What's wrong, Griff?” she said.

He caught her hand. “Let's go upstairs and tuck in the boys.”

She dug in her heels. “They can wait. Talk to me.”

He shook his head and climbed the stairs, with Juliet trailing slowly behind.

In the bedroom, Ethan and Casey wore matching pajamas while sitting in the middle of the bed, jabbering.

When they caught sight of their mother and Griff, Casey said, “Efan told me that mean man said our daddy was a coward for dying.”