Right to Bragg Page 2

  He might be right, and she shrugged. “OK, then. You feed Matty, and I’ll make that coffee.”

  “What? Me?”

  In better days, she recalled Paul doing the same big-eyed, helpless deal when he didn’t want to change a diaper.

  “This is the easy part.” She wanted to laugh, but was out of patience. The drive to and from Lakewood had been long and difficult, but here at her new “home” with a wakeful baby, she had no chance to kick her feet up. Not that she wanted to. She took her duties as nanny seriously. But Bragg was here. Rachel must trust him. “Now, man up. You sister wouldn’t have asked you here if she couldn’t depend on you.”

  Bragg’s cheekbones reddened, but attractively, not the overheat from Tony’s comment just minutes before. “Aw, I was her last chance. Everybody else was gone.”

  Obediently he sat in a kitchen chair, held the baby not as awkwardly as she would have predicted, and the room filled with Matty’s soft, gobbly sounds.

  “It’s just a thank-you cup of coffee,” she said softly, needing Bragg to know. The sounds of perking and hissing filled the room.

  Bragg nodded, busy with baby and bottle, but didn’t meet her eyes. Then she realized why. It might have something to do with Tony, sure, but most of it was her refusing his date the other night. Well, in her fallen state of grace, the smarmy Tony was a better match for her. He’d mentioned on the drive to town he’d just left a job in the “gaming” business. Everybody knew gaming meant gambling. What kind of man considered that a career?

  Well, what kind of woman broke up her family and left without facing the music?

  Digging in the cupboard, she grabbed three mugs, and then fished in the fridge for cream. One thing she knew. She sure didn’t deserve a man of faith and truth, like Bragg, who helped run his family’s ranching enterprises in addition to a successful accounting business of his own.

  Suddenly the kitchen grew too small, too warm, and too uncomfortable. Pouring three cups, she set one on the table. Bragg stared down at his nephew.

  She went into the living room to find Tony O’Neal slouched fast asleep in a big chair. Aw, no. She shook him, much the same as she’d touched Bragg just minutes ago, but no tingle. Just annoyance. He needed to get to the motel fast to settle in.

  But he didn’t move a muscle, just groaned in sleepy satisfaction. Hadn’t he said he’d driven in from Reno practically nonstop? If so, he was no doubt exhausted.

  Bragg’s manly scent of nature and downright snow wiggled up her nose as he came up behind her; she hadn’t even heard his stockinged feet.

  “Doesn’t he get a burp done now, or something,” he said softly, holding Matty out to her.

  She had to smile. “He’s not going to explode. And it isn’t rocket science.”

  His head cocked, and his eyes squinted like he’d heard it before.

  “Here, let me show you.” She maneuvered the baby against Bragg’s shoulder and within a second, heard the requisite sound. “There you go.”

  Bragg grinned at her in a triumph that turned to dismay right away when he noticed Tony. “Wha-a-a-at? Wake him up and get him gone.”

  “I tried. I think he’s bone tired after the drive from Nevada. He can rest for a little while.”

  “Guess that’s why he wanted coffee,” Bragg grumbled.

  “You don’t like him much.” She stated it plain and simple, but not because she was nosing for an answer. Goodness, she had enough people who didn’t like her, and it was usually for a good reason.

  Bragg moved into the living room, baby in one arm, infant seat in another. Tiffany made Matty comfy while Bragg talked softly, perched on the arm of the couch.

  “It’s no secret around Mountain Cove, especially if he’s back in town. By the way, did he say why he’s back? I mean, there’s nobody here for him. I mean…” His face colored again, but he looked right at her. “Pike’s wife, Daisy, well. She and Tony had a, well, their marriage didn’t work out. He all but ruined her faith until she found her way back.”

  Ruined faith? Well, that was a concept that had turned into reality for her.

  “I didn’t know.” Tiffany said quietly, sensing Bragg needed something gentle right now. “But I’d say Daisy sure got lucky. She and Pike had such a beautiful wedding, and they look so happy.” She almost gasped at the words. Talking without thinking had just brought the elephant back into the room. She’d allowed herself one evening of indulgence and engaged in a minor flirtation with Bragg that night. That’s all it had been. Hadn’t it? By now of course, Bragg must have realized the same thing. Hadn’t he? She’d done the right thing, refusing the date he asked for later.

  Hadn’t she?

  “Well, Tony and I go back farther than that.” He glanced at the supine form. “And not in a good way. But I am trying to make things right. Getting it out in the open with him is something I gotta do. I just didn’t expect to do it quite yet.” Suddenly the awkwardness dispelled, and he grinned like a kid. “The Lord sure works in mysterious ways.”

  She frowned. The Lord? Mysterious ways? Where had He been when she needed Him? With a sigh, she tugged a blanket over the baby. “Tony mentioned something about coming back here for a job. Some ranch is starting up a competitive swim club for local kids. In Promise, I think. That’s near here, right?”

  Bragg looked at her then with an expression of pure pain, and his jaw and fists clenched. A longing to comfort him overwhelmed her.

  “You all right?” Without thinking, she laid her left hand on his arm. The spark, well, that was just static.

  Wasn’t it?

  “Yep.” The pain and tightness relaxed at once. “I, uh. I heard about that.” He shrugged. “Good for Tony, and yeah, Promise isn’t far. The Bar R’s prodigal son came back after making a ton of money in electronic surveillance. Wants to give back to the community. Put in an indoor pool, yada yada yada.”

  A prodigal coming back to give something to the community. Even in the warm room, a shiver overtook her. The Bible was nothing but a bunch of fairytales, but even she remembered that tale of the bad boy and the fatted calf. Even if she somehow came across a jillion dollars, it would never make up for what she’d done.

  And nobody would want her back.

  2

  Tiffany’s fingers sent bolts of lightning down his spine, and Bragg moved away. Definitely not because of her. Shock and disappointment swamped him. Apparently, Tony had gotten the job. Bragg could hardly breathe and forced himself not to glare at Tony. Bragg had applied for the part-time job, certain he’d get good recommendations. The Bar R had promised to make the decision two days ago, but he’d reckoned they were behind schedule due to the holidays. So he hadn’t worried. Now, he wondered. Had somebody sabotaged him?

  Tiffany reeked of curiosity. He’d already hinted at the coldness between him and Tony, but no way would he confess to her. Not here. Not now. In a way, Rachel’s house was more Tiffany’s home than his, and in a round-about way, Tony was Tiffany’s guest. Besides, she’d find out soon enough. And then what?

  Paralegals had to be above reproach, and there were a lot of years when he wasn’t. Bragg shoved away the memory of his Mountain Cove High swim star days. Those days when Coach Tony O’Neal had led him into the temptation of steroids, and performance enhancing substances. He shoved away his faked drug tests in college, his getting banned on his way to the Olympics. Oh, he was righting his wrongs, vacating his NCAA records and pulling his trophies off the shelves of the MCHS gym.

  But Tony had never come forward, had let Bragg bear the brunt alone. Like a high school kid in a podunk town could do it all on his own. But the alumni booster club was headed by the richest man in three counties. He wanted the championship intact, and his word was the be all and end all. It still rankled, that Tony got off scot-free. Forgiveness was sometimes a hard thing to come by, despite Bragg’s unfailing faith.

  Bragg stepped over Tony’s long legs to get to the fireplace where Rachel had hung the stockings with care. Thr
ee, a big one done in camouflage for the husband and father who couldn’t even be there, Rachel’s, middle-sized of course, in red velvet, and a tiny one for Matty made from both fabrics.

  Trying to catch his breath, Bragg rested his elbows on the mantelpiece, crunching the pine boughs Rachel had wound around white candles and a nativity scene. He moved so he wouldn’t mess up the decorations.

  Tiffany joined him. A perfume that smelled as good as dawn in spring drifted in the air. In the background Matty gnawed on a pacifier. For a moment, Bragg felt the urge to grab the baby and hold him close. He at least was a real innocent, untouched by life.

  In his sleep, Tony snorted big time, startling both Bragg and Tiffany. Their shoulders merged. He didn’t move away because he liked it. Liked her warmth, liked her touching him.

  “I guess I better wake Tony up and send him along,” Tiffany said with worry in her tone, not moving either. “I don’t really like the idea of any man or beast outside in that.”

  Her words crashed nightmares into Bragg’s head. Just about everybody in his life was out in the elements tonight. Folks in Mountain Cove understood wintertime, of course, but nature was powerful with its own agenda. Even he hadn’t predicted the snow would barrel in so early. Or so fast.

  Right now, he did what he always did in times of trouble. He bowed his head and asked God for safe harbor. Of course, he hadn’t always reached for God first and found himself in trouble. Well, that was then. Now was now. If they could shake Tony awake, he wouldn’t have but a few blocks to get to the motel.

  Tiffany didn’t seem to notice his private prayer. With a gentle finger, she touched the framed picture of Rachel holding her baby. Next to it, inside a matching frame, was Nick in full dress uniform.

  He’d never even seen his son, and Bragg’s heart panged.

  “Beautiful family, aren’t they?” Tiffany asked in a voice that choked over the words. Well, Bragg might act the hard-bitten cowboy on the ranch and a logical, analytical CPA under the other “non-Stetson” hat he wore, but he wasn’t an insensitive lout. Even Helen Keller could hear and see how Tiffany hurt.

  “You OK?” He had to ask, lifting his arm to scrunch her shoulder just for a second. Nothing boy-girl. Same kind of thing he’d do to any hurting human or critter.

  “Yeah.” She brushed away tears, her dusky eyes still misty when she looked at him. “It’s not going to work out for me to be with my…family this Christmas. And I, well. You know.”

  She didn’t say any more, and her own pain sliced in to him. What a time to be on your own.

  “Well, I bet Rachel’s told you you’re part of Hearts Crossing, now. We’ll expect you. And it’ll be good for Ma. She’s planning a big shebang for Christmas Eve, and you don’t wanna miss the living nativity at church. Ella’s an angel.” He grinned thinking of how much his five-year old niece was going to like the little armchair he’d gotten her, upholstered in a print full of fairytale princesses. “Of course Ella’s up before first light next morning, and Ma gets her apple-walnut French toast casserole in the oven. We open presents while we eat, then head to church for the carol singing.”

  Happy memories flooded him, and he stalked over to the switch that turned on the Christmas tree. He couldn’t help an “ooh and aah” when the pretty thing lit up, reflecting in Tiffany’s eyes. For a flash, his breath caught. The tree was pretty, but she was way prettier.

  “After that”—he caught it back—“well, my sister Kelley and Ma put together Christmas dinner. We all sit-down around the big table. Usually it’s like something out of a magazine. Then there’s more dessert at ‘teatime’ as Ma calls it, but it’s mostly hot chocolate, not tea. And after all that, a supper buffet.”

  “My goodness!” Tiffany’s eyes were bright from the lights. “Sounds like you gain ten pounds in twenty-four hours.”

  He laughed out loud. “Likely we do. Kelley got the cooking gene. She’s got a restaurant now and is always trying out new recipes on us. Vegetarian, most likely.”

  “A cattle rancher’s daughter?”

  “Yep. But she isn’t judgmental against us carnivores, as she says it. Why, are you a vegetarian, or vegan, or whatever it is?”

  “Not me. Give me a good old steak any time.”

  “Well said, considering I’m a cattle man. It’s a date, then.” Bragg said, then almost bit off his tongue. “I don’t mean a date date. Already been there and been refused.” He braved a manly laugh to ease the moment. “I mean, like put Christmas at Hearts Crossing in your date book.”

  “I got it.” She smiled but the mist flashed in her eyes again, and she knelt back down to check Matty.

  He knew it had nothing to do with him, though, just her not getting home for Christmas. He didn’t know where she was from. That sounded like a good conversation starter for later on.

  “It’ll be good for Ma, too,” he said instead. “Give her a chance to show off and keep her mind off other things.”

  “Mind off other things?”

  “Her kids won’t all be together this Christmas. Pike and Daisy took advantage of her three weeks off teaching school to take a ski honeymoon.”

  “Well, life can get in the way,” she said, voice shaky and sad.

  Must be money, her not getting home. Ma would likely loan her some. “It does, that,” was all he said, though.

  She ran her fingers over the picture frames again. Just watching her, he almost felt them skitter across his cheek.

  “I’ve been thinking,” Tiffany said, slow. “What if I made copies of these pictures? Without Rachel knowing. I think there might be a way to Photoshop them together and make it look like one family unit.”

  Bragg peeked close at the pictures. They did seem to be all facing the same direction. “You think?”

  “I totally do. It’d make a nice present. But”—she looked down at the fire—“do you think something like that would make her sad?”

  “I think it would make her Christmas,” Bragg said, meaning it. “My brother Scott’s a web designer and computer geek.”

  “Really? I thought you all were cowboys.” Her eyebrows rose like wings.

  “Oh, we do that, too. It’s in our blood. But there’s eight of us. We all gotta help out other ways. Yep, I bet something like that’s right up his alley.”

  Right then, hard knocks at the front door bounced around the living room. Matty started to bellow, Tony O’Neal crashed to his feet, and a snow-covered giant burst into the townhouse.

  ****

  The abominable snowman shook off snow in the tiny mudroom-entryway.

  “Scott? What are you doing here?” Bragg ran toward him.

  Tiffany calmed herself and picked up the squalling baby. She had yet to get used to it, but unlocked doors were just Mountain Cove’s way. Noticing Tony once more by the fireplace, his fists clenched, hands on hips, she doubted any of the brothers would be happy with the man who’d mistreated their sister. Well, sister-in-law.

  Paul, now…her brother might be glad if somebody gave her payback. Her heart hammered, and she buried her face in the baby’s sweet neck.

  She lifted her head and gazed out the window while Bragg brushed a ton of snow off his brother. As he braved the open door to kick it outside, frigid air snaked around her ankles, and she shivered at the white misery outside.

  “I’m coming in from shopping in Promise,” Scott said, jacking his boots away and striding into the living room in his stockinged feet. She had to admire his good looks. Each of the Martin brothers was breathtaking in his own way. Scott was lean and toned with hints of deep mahogany in his curly dark hair. Still, he couldn’t compare to Bragg who was tall, broad-shouldered with sandy hair and had eyes the color of champagne. Those strong fingers, even with calluses, she longed to have drift across her cheek. His mouth, too, lips meeting hers. She tingled and shouldn’t have. Bragg Martin was way off limits.

  Scott smiled a hello and brought her back to reality. “Hope you don’t mind, Tiffany. No way I can go
back to the ranch in this weather.” He looked around. “Where’s Rache?”

  Bragg’s voice came through, tinged with worry. “Last I heard, a deposition in Rustic Canyon. Hope she had good sense to stay there. I hate to reckon she’s stuck in the canyon.”

  Scott blew through his teeth. “She’s a smart one. I think Nick’s got an aunt or something there. One thing our big sister’s got is brains. Make that two things. Common sense, as well.” He walked over to the coffee table and laid down a package and his laptop.

  “What’s that?” Bragg guffawed. “Your survival gear?”

  “Yep.” Scott snickered back. “I never travel without my computer. Worse yet, leave it in the truck. I got those handmade chocolates Ma likes. Twenty dollars a pound. I’m not leaving them to freeze to death in my truck. Couldn’t find anything else to get her.”

  “Well, we can certainly add them to our starvation rations,” Tiffany said with a laugh. “Hi, Scott. Glad you got here OK.” She held out a hand and Scott grabbed it.

  That seemed to bring Tony to life. “Um…I better head out of here before things get worse. Didn’t mean to fall asleep on y’all.”

  Scott shook his head, eyes wide with curiosity at Tony’s presence. “You wouldn’t get far. Wind’s tossing snow every which way. There’ll be white-out before long. I barely made it to the church parking lot where I stashed my truck.”

  “You walked from there?” Tiffany gasped. “That’s got to be, what, four blocks or more? No wonder you looked like Dr. Zhivago when you walked in.”

  All three men dropped their jaws. “Who?” they said in unison.

  “A guy during the Russian revolution who deserted and trudged a million miles through blizzards just to get back to the one he loved.” The one he loved? Ah, where had that come from? She rushed on. “Just one of the best movies ever.”

  Matty nuzzled her neck. Another feeding was upon them.

  “My stepmom’s half-Russian. I was raised on that movie.”

  The memories made her ache, and she busied herself with Matty who was squirming with starvation. “Look, you warm up, Scott. I’ve got to change and feed the baby, but I know there are some frozen pizzas in the freezer.”