The Rebel of Copper Creek by R.C. Ryan Page B

to his memory.
    Betrayal.
    She shivered and turned away from the window, pacing the length of the kitchen and back. That was what it all came down to. She was trapped here by a promise to a man who was gone now, a man she’d loved more than her own life. And because of that love, she was furious with Griff for kissing her. How could she claim to love Buddy and still feel what she’d felt when Griff’s mouth had touched hers?
    She’d been shaken to her very soul. And still was, if truth be told. All she had to do was think about the way his lips felt on hers, and she was aroused all over again.
    When she’d slapped his face and looked into his eyes, she’d seen something so rare, it had left her trembling.
    Not lust, as she’d expected. But rather, simple honesty.
    Looking back, it seemed to be just as he’d tried to explain. It had simply happened. And if she hadn’t reacted with all that drama, that would have been the end of it.
    It shamed her to admit that her anger had been a cover for her true emotion. In truth, she’d been so caught up in his kiss she’d wanted it to go on and on.
    There had been such strength in him. His arm, when she’d reached for it to steady herself, had rippled with muscles. His chest, when she’d been nearly crushed against it, had been a wall of muscle. But it was more than physical strength. There was a strength of character, a goodness in him, as well. A tenderness that had touched something in her soul. And that she couldn’t allow.
    She didn’t want him coming back here to keep a promise to Casey. She didn’t want him anywhere near her sons or near her. Especially near her.
    She didn’t want to get to know Griff Warren. She didn’t want to like him, or care for him, or, worse, kiss him ever again.
    Because she knew in her heart that though she’d evaded all men since losing Buddy, this man wasn’t like the others.
    This man, with his soulful eyes and simple goodness, could get to her. And that could lead only to heartbreak.
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    â€œHey, Griff.” Ash and Brenna, who seemed constantly joined at the hip since their marriage, walked into the kitchen arm in arm. Ash helped himself to a biscuit cooling atop the counter, ignoring the hairy eyeball from his grandfather, who was busy flipping eggs in a sizzling skillet.
    â€œI see your wife didn’t feed you again this morning,” the old man barked.
    â€œWhy bother, when we can finish our chores and still make it here in time for chow?”
    That had Griff grinning from ear to ear. “Why don’t you two just move back into your old rooms? Then you can enjoy Mad’s great cooking for every meal.”
    Ash winked at his wife. “I love my family. And I’d love to ease our workload. But there’s something to be said for having some privacy.”
    Brenna kissed Ash’s cheek and stole a piece of his biscuit out of his hand.
    Whit and Brady, just back from the hills, strolled into the mudroom and washed before taking their places at the table.
    Willow, following behind, kissed her sons and Brenna before helping herself to a cup of coffee. Ash held out chairs for his mother and Brenna, then settled himself between them. He glanced across the table at Griff. “Why weren’t you up in the hills with Whit and Brady?”
    â€œI took the day off yesterday to fly over to the Grayson Ranch.”
    Willow set aside her cup. “I expect a full report on what’s going on over there.”
    â€œThe rumor in town is the widow Grayson is in over her head.” Ash accepted a platter of eggs and sausage from Myrna. He held it while his wife and mother filled their plates before helping himself.
    â€œI’m not interested in rumors.” Willow looked at Griff. “You saw for yourself. What’s going on?”
    Griff took his time filling his plate and holding it for Mad before passing it to Whit and Brady.