True Love at Silver Creek Ranch

Chapter Sixteen

Late the next afternoon, before he could change his mind, Adam drove into town and stopped at the house renovation project, a two-story cottage with dormers jutting from steep gables and decorative trim along the front porch. Scaffolding was built along one wall as people worked on the siding. Several pickups and minivans lined up along the curb. When Adam knocked on the front door, a middle-aged woman on the scaffolding ducked her head beneath the porch roof to look at him.

“Go on in,” she said with a smile. “We’re glad for the help.”

Inside, there were a couple people working on the trim in the living room, including an old guy in his seventies with a bald dome of a head and scruffy white hair circling the base. But he still had a white beard and mustache, and this was how Adam recognized him.

“Coach McKee?”

The man straightened a bit slower than he used to, his grin broad. “Adam Desantis. How good to see you, boy.”

Wiping his hands on a rag, he came toward Adam and they shook hands. George McKee was still a big man, barrel-chested, but a bit more stooped with age. He’d done a couple years early on in Vietnam, and he still had the bearing of a man who took care of himself—and who didn’t take “any guff,” one of his stock phrases as a coach.

“I heard you were back in town,” Coach said. “I was starting to think I’d have to track you down. Want some coffee?”

“Sure, thanks.”

Coach led him into the kitchen, where a big pot had been brewed. The room was obviously finished, all done in light woods, with a big picture window overlooking a snowy backyard with a swing set.

“I saw the man who’ll get this house last night,” Adam said after accepting a steaming styrofoam cup.

“Scott Huang, yes. His family will put that swing set to good use. Three little boys.”

“How many other houses are in the works?”

“Three in various stages, from the initial sale or donation to one that’s being moved into this weekend. You’re working for the Thalbergs, right? They donated one of the houses.”

Adam blinked, and a brief sense of unease touched him. “That was decent of them.”

“Sure was. Doug’s a Vietnam vet—you knew that, right?”

“It might be part of the reason he hired me,” Adam said dryly.

“Maybe.” Coach’s eyes twinkled. “Those Thalbergs, they care about the community. Your grandma’s a part of the Welcome Ceremony. Good people, those ladies, although they had some strange ideas about how to welcome the vets and their families into their new homes.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

Coach chuckled. “They were convinced every home should have a puppy, the perfect welcome gift from the preservation-fund committee. It took a while to talk them out of it.”

Adam smiled. “Even without a puppy, this is a good program. So do the vets have to pay a mortgage?”

“A small one, but nothing compared to what the final product is worth. All of our time and most of the renovation supplies are donated.” He paused. “So you’re out of the Marines?”

Adam’s smile faded a bit as he nodded.

Coach looked at him way too astutely, but only said, “Your grandma bragged about you making staff sergeant. I hope you knew the great honor.”

“I did, sir.”

Coach shook his head. “Hard to believe you ever doubted yourself as a commander of men.”

Once it would have been hard to hear that, but Adam was trying to honor the memories of his friends rather than avoid them. They deserved that.

“By your senior year, you had the football team in lockstep. I just knew. But then again, there was a time where you didn’t want anyone telling you anything.”

“Yes, well, now that I’m working at the Silver Creek Ranch, I have a lot of bosses telling me what to do.”

“Fair people, of course, so I’m sure it’s no hardship.”

“Speaking of family, I was overseas when I heard about your wife’s death, sir. I’m very sorry for your loss.”

His expression sobered. “Thanks, son.”

“She was very kind to the team. I’ll never forget those meals she coordinated for us before every big game.”

Coach smiled. “She was good at getting all the moms involved.” Then he winced. “Sorry.”

“No, don’t worry. I’ve long since come to terms with my mom’s selfishness.” Adam took another sip of his coffee and realized it was the truth.

“Still, her death was a terrible thing. A fire like that . . .”

“Her own fault,” Adam said. “Thanks for being there at the funeral for my grandma when I couldn’t fly back in time.”

“Oh, please. The way that woman looked after me when my wife died? She and the widows organized two months’ worth of delivered meals, and they visited me several times every week. I’d do anything for her. I don’t know if I ever told you, but back when you stole my car—”

“Borrowed it,” was the automatic answer Adam had always given when he was on the football team.

Coach grinned. “Okay, okay, ‘borrowed’ it. It was your grandma who came to me before your court appearance and encouraged me to attend.”

Adam tensed. “I didn’t put her up to that.”

Coach touched his elbow. “Of course you didn’t. You know Renee—she always believes she knows best, and she was determined to help you however she could.”

Adam had known his life changed forever because of Coach McKee—he could hardly be surprised that his grandma was behind it all. She could never do things up front to help him, knowing how his parents took it, but she was always there behind the scenes. She still was, he thought, swallowing to ease the tightness in his throat. She wanted him to come to Valentine Valley, and she’d found the perfect scheme to get him there. And he was glad for it.

“Thanks for telling me that, Coach.” Adam set down his cup. “I know Grandma wasn’t the only one supporting me in those days. I’ve never forgotten what you did for me. There aren’t many who get a second chance.”

Coach waved a hand, and said gruffly, “I just needed a team manager.”

Adam grinned. “Now tell me where to start. I haven’t done much home renovation, so I might need some instruction.”

“No problem. We’ll find plenty for you to do. How much can you work?”

“I never really know—depends on how the day goes at the ranch. I’m thinking a few times a week after work. Do you need to know in advance?”

“Nope, just wanted you to know that if you arrive here and we’re gone, we could be working at one of the other houses. I’ll write down the addresses for you. You’re hired!”

They shook hands, and Adam felt good about being a part of an important cause. The Thalbergs could donate a house, a Desantis could donate labor. It all evened out in the end. But it was a reminder how different he and Brooke really were, their backgrounds, their families.

As Brooke waited for Steph to arrive for her barrel-racing lesson, she noticed that Adam’s pickup was gone and wondered if he was visiting his grandma.

Or maybe he was going out with one of the women he’d met last night.

Stop it, she told herself. She admired the blue sky and reminded herself the weather was mild, and Steph would get a good workout. She didn’t need to think about Adam. Or the fact that it had taken everything in her not to go to the bunkhouse last night when she saw his lights. It would seem . . . awkward, when they’d both spent time socializing with other people. But it had taken her a long time to sleep, with her body feeling achy and restless and not her own.

When Steph arrived without her horse trailer, Brooke frowned as the girl jumped out of her rusted old pickup.

“I thought we had a lesson,” Brooke began.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” Steph said, her blond ponytail bobbing where it was threaded through the hole in the back of her baseball cap. “I needed to talk to you. Guess I didn’t explain that . . .”

“It’s okay. Give me a chance to let Sugar out with the other horses.”

Steph accompanied her to the barn, saying little, her expression troubled. Brooke was concerned but could be patient, knowing it was best not to push a teenager in the middle of a crisis.

After putting away the tack, Brooke walked Sugar outside and sent her galloping into the horse pasture with a brisk pat to her haunches. Then she turned and studied Steph. “Is this a private talk? Maybe we want to avoid the house. My parents are home.”

“Is that little cabin yours?”

Brooke didn’t even have to look where the girl pointed. “That’s the bunkhouse. Adam’s living there right now.”

“Oh. Must be easy for him to be right here.”

Brooke barely caught herself before wincing. “It is, but that means we can’t talk there. Come on into the tack room. My saddle can use some cleaning.”

The room, situated in a corner of the barn, had two windows that let in lots of light. Halters and bridles hung from many hooks in the walls beneath long rows of shelves. Portable saddle racks were placed beneath each person’s tack. Brooke pulled her saddle rack into the center of the room, gathered rags, leather cleaner, and oil, and sank onto a stool. Steph sighed and picked at a ragged fingernail. Brooke gave her time, focusing on rubbing the dirt out of her saddle with a rag.

Steph let out a deep breath. “I have a favor to ask. Tyler Brissette needs a place to do community service. I don’t think he’d do well sweeping up someone’s store, with everyone watching him. I just think he needs someone who’s patient with him. Is there any chance he could work here for you after school on weekdays and Saturday mornings?”

Surprised, Brooke put down the rag and studied the girl. “This isn’t a little favor, is it?”

“I wish I didn’t have to ask. But did you ever feel with someone . . .” Her voice trailed off, and her blue eyes looked wistful. “ . . . that maybe you were the only one who could help him? Me, I mean, not you. But you, too!” she added quickly.

Brooke chuckled. “I know what you mean. I guess I’d be willing to take a chance on him if you think we can help him.”

Steph let her breath out in a rush. “Oh, thank you! I know we can help him. We just need time.”

“What about his family? I know his brother just got out of jail.”

She nodded. “I haven’t seen his brother at all. I think my dad would be mad if I went near him. But . . . aren’t we supposed to give people a second chance?” she asked plaintively. “His dad is gone, I guess, so it’s just his mom working two jobs every day. His brother is trying to find a job, but since he’s been in jail . . .” She trailed off.

“Fire is a terrible thing to ranchers and farmers,” Brooke said. “People won’t forget that for a long time.”

“I know. But that was Cody, not Tyler. So can I give your name and number to his probation officer?”

“Sure. We’ll give him so much to do he won’t be able to do anything but sleep when he gets home.”

Steph gave her a big hug, and Brooke gladly returned it.

“Thanks, Brooke. You’re awesome.”

It felt pretty good to be awesome, she thought, walking across the yard after Steph had gone. Then she straightened her spine and headed for the office. At the end of each day, her dad and brothers often gathered to talk over what needed to be done the next day.

They were all drinking coffee and eating cookies when she arrived.

Her dad put a finger to his lips. “Shh, we’re spoiling our appetites on Gloria’s cookies. Have some.”

She pulled up a rolling office chair and grabbed a chocolate chip cookie. “Got some news. You know the Brissette kid who Joe Sweet caught joyriding on his land?”

Their nods were sober.

“He got community service for his first offense. Steph Sweet asked if he could serve it working for us after school, and I said yes. Is that okay with everyone?”

Her dad rubbed his chin. “Well, as long as you don’t mind acceptin’ the challenge of ropin’ a teenager into line.”

“I don’t mind at all,” Brooke said. “Figured I’d deal with him and not bother any of you.”

“That’s a nice thing you’re doing, Brooke,” Josh said, throwing his napkin in the garbage.

“Maybe naïve, too,” Nate cautioned.

Brooke at last allowed herself a small smile. “I know. But if you’d seen the pleading look on Steph’s face . . . how could I say no?”

At dinner, when she told her mom about Tyler’s community service, Sandy smiled proudly. “Told you you’d make a good teacher.”

Brooke blushed with pleasure even though she knew that her mom wasn’t exactly objective. She was standing for minutes each day braced on a walker now, slowly regaining the strength in her legs. It took everything in Brooke not to stand beside her mom in case she weakened, but Sandy didn’t want that.

As she set the table, Brooke said, “Mom, I’ll be his boss, not his teacher.”

“Bosses are teachers. I’ve seen you working with Adam.”

Brooke paused at the silverware drawer, keeping her face neutral. “You have?”

“Well, I’ve mostly looked out the window, but your brother Josh has told me a thing or two. You’re good at explaining yourself, and you have patience.”

“Says my mom,” Brooke said, surprised to feel embarrassed about the praise. “But thanks. Adam is a willing worker. Tyler’s being forced. It probably won’t be the same thing.”

“No, but as I said, you have patience. You’ll make it work.”

The one person Brooke forgot to tell? Adam. When she went to his cabin after everyone had gone to bed, he swept her into his arms, kissing her greedily, pulling off her clothes, and then she was pulling off his. Everything else completely left her mind.

Two days later, the sky was blustery and overcast, with gusts of wind and occasional snow flurries, making every job on a ranch harder. Adam didn’t much care. He was floating on a feeling of satisfaction, and not just from his erotic evening with Brooke. Though he’d been tired after work, renovating Scott Huang’s future home had felt good. A house wasn’t some kind of platitude, “Thanks for your service to your country, now pretend everything’s the same.” A house was a way without words to say “Thank you,” and Adam was surprised to feel deeply grateful for the chance to say that to people who’d given up far more than he had. Every piece of trim he cut, every nail he hammered, he knew would be appreciated by Scott and his family.

As Adam came out of the barn after shoveling out the horse stalls, he saw a beat-up two-door car pull up in front of the ranch house, and a lanky young man wearing a ball cap emerged from the passenger side. He shut the door, and the car drove off. The kid put his hands in his pockets and hunched his shoulders against the wind. He was wearing a coat, but in the way of teenagers, it wasn’t enough to keep him warm outside for any length of time.

As Adam strode across the yard, the kid looked up, and in that moment, recognition sparked between them. This was the kid who’d stolen the Thalbergs’ ATV and gone for a ride, wrecking a fence post but luckily not damaging the machine. He had unruly black hair, sullen gray eyes in an angular face, and stubble on his chin as if he were trying to be older than he was. What was he—sixteen, seventeen?

The way he stood, hands in his pockets, hunched against the cold, went through Adam with a shock of sad memories. It was like seeing Paul Ivanick all over again, that first day at boot camp. Adam happened to be visiting Parris Island on another matter, and he’d seen the incoming recruits. Paul had been an inner-city kid, plopped into the middle of the swamps and marshes as if in another world, cut off from his old life. And all of the uncertainty and fear had been there on his face, poorly hidden beneath a sneer. By the time he landed in Adam’s platoon, he’d become an eager, gung ho jarhead, confident in himself and his training, wanting to learn even more from Adam, barely recognizable from the kid he’d once been. And he’d served to the best of his abilities until friendly fire had wiped out his future.

Adam had given the ATV-riding kid a second chance—did that mean he’d come to apologize?

The kid stiffened and faced him as if they were about to shoot it out at high noon, and Adam tried not to smile.

“So you’re back,” Adam said mildly.

“I’m here to see Brooke.”

“You mean Miss Thalberg?”

The kid opened his mouth, then slouched a bit, mumbling, “Miss Thalberg.”

“So what are you here to see her about?”

The kid gave a sigh, and for just a moment, Adam glimpsed a lost boy rather than a defensive teenager. But it didn’t last long.

“Who are you?” the kid demanded.

Adam strolled toward him and leaned a hand casually on the front railing. “Funny you should ask,” he said, keeping his voice light. “I’m the guy who knows what you did on this ranch.”

“You’re going to turn me in, aren’t you,” the kid said bitterly.

“I didn’t say that.” Adam spoke quietly, and his tone alone seemed to get the kid’s attention.

“Why not?” he demanded. “I bet you’ve been waiting to point me out.”

“Actually, I haven’t. I was hoping your close call straightened you out.”

“Well, it didn’t, so I guess I disappointed you, too. Welcome to a very big club.”

Adam recognized the signs so well—arrogance, defensiveness, and a tough-guy exterior—to protect the kid from the world. More than just Paul, that was him twelve years ago.

“Why do you need to see Miss Thalberg?” Adam asked again.

“She told the courts I could do my community service with her. But go ahead, once you’re done, I’m sure she’ll kick me out. Why did I bother coming here?”

He turned away, hunched his shoulders, and started walking.

Adam raised his voice against the wind. “So that’s it? You just quit.”

The kid spun on his heels but continued to walk backward. “I’m not a quitter! I’ll find somewhere else to work.”

“What happens if you don’t? It can’t be easy.”

“Then they lock me up in Juvenile Hall. You don’t need to care.”

“You’ve obviously gotten yourself in more trouble since I last saw you, and rather than prove yourself a coward by walking away—”

“I’m not—”

“I suggest you go on into the office and talk to Miss Thalberg.”

The kid came to a halt. “Are you playin’ with me?”

“Nope.”

“Well, you’re just gonna tell her what I did. That’ll be two strikes against me, and I’ll go away for sure.”

“What did you get caught doing?” Adam asked.

The kid scowled. “What do you think?”

“Joyriding an ATV. Was anyone hurt?”

“Naw, but I busted part of it. Sweet called the sheriff.”

“I’m sure you meant to say ‘Mr. Sweet.’ Do you blame him?”

The kid didn’t answer, only looked away and kicked at a rock framed in the packed snow.

“You know, I’ve already kept quiet about you,” Adam pointed out.

The kid narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean?”

“I didn’t tell anyone what you did. I gave you a chance, but you’re on a rocky ledge right now. We can try this again, and if you prove yourself worth my support, I’ll continue to keep quiet.”

The wind howled between them, and both squinted as snow danced against their faces.

“What are you saying?” the kid demanded at last, his disrespectful tone down a notch.

“You do your community service, and you do it well. And nobody needs to know it wasn’t your first offense.”

“That’s like . . . blackmail or something.”

“Really? If that bothers you, guess you can head back into town.”

“Hey, Adam!”

He turned to see Brooke coming across the yard, her words almost garbled from the wind. She glanced the kid’s way and came to a stop.

“You must be Tyler Brissette,” she said, smiling even as she held out a gloved hand.

Tyler? That name was familiar to Adam.

Awkwardly, the kid put his bare hand in hers. “Afternoon, Miss Thalberg.”

The kid had all kinds of manners when he desperately needed them, Adam thought with amusement.

“Your mom couldn’t stay to see you settled in?” Brooke asked.

The kid hunched his shoulders again. “Naw, she had to get to work.”

“I see. Well, come on, we’ve got some paperwork, then I’ll show you around. Did you meet Mr. Desantis?”

Tyler’s gaze seemed to settle on Adam’s chin. “No, ma’am.”

“This is Adam Desantis, one of our hands. Adam, Tyler Brissette.”

Adam put out a hand, and the kid finally took it. “Good to meet you, Tyler.”

“Tyler will be here every day after school,” Brooke said. “I’ll be teaching him the ropes.”

“I’ll be glad to help,” Adam offered.

She brightened. “Thank you! Come on, Tyler.”

As Tyler turned to follow Brooke, he looked over his shoulder at Adam, his expression wary.

Someone came through the double doors of the barn behind Adam.

“Was that our new employee?” Josh called.

Adam turned and walked toward the barn. “You knew about him?” Stupid thing to say—Josh was family, and one of the bosses.

“After the fact,” Josh said with amusement. “Brooke made this decision all on her own.”

“Why am I not surprised,” Adam murmured.

Josh glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, but only said, “Yeah, she keeps her soft heart pretty well buried most of the time. But she wants to work with this kid. Hope she doesn’t regret it.”

Me, too, Adam thought. He was uncomfortable with the position he’d put himself in, lying about Tyler to a family that had been good to him. But Tyler was right—if anyone knew, he could end up in jail, and Adam had to prevent that. Maybe hard work could straighten the kid out.