Free The Legacy of Copper Creek by R.C. Ryan Page A

no-litter rule.”
    “You bet.” He pulled himself into the saddle and helped her up behind him.
    Their horse started off along the grassy route with a spring in his step. With the snow behind them, Old Red seemed eager to reach the familiar food and shelter he knew would be at the end of their trail.
    Now that the weather had gentled and the sun was high overhead, Cara found herself achingly aware of the muscled thighs pressed to hers and the lean, chiseled body encircled by her arms.
    “You’re awfully quiet back there.”
    “Just enjoying the scenery.” A grin split her lips the moment the words were out of her mouth.
    Scenery indeed. Whit MacKenzie could easily pose as a personal trainer for one of those famous workout places scattered across the country.
    She thought of Jared, the arrogant man who had tried to impress her with his wealth and his family’s success. He spent a fortune to have a toned body—showcasing his strength and masculinity even though he didn’t possess either.
    She swallowed back her feelings of resentment at Jared’s cruel treatment. She needed to put the past behind her and move forward.
    The only problem was, she had no idea where forward might be. Where did she go from here?
    There wasn’t much time to ponder before she spotted signs of civilization far below. Barns, outbuildings, corrals and fences, and then the house, half hidden behind the shadow of huge barns. As the house came more sharply into view, she saw the long, graceful sweep of three stories of stone and weathered wood that looked as ageless as the hills surrounding it.
    They approached from the back, along an asphalt landing strip that led to a huge barn. Through the open door she spotted a plane. Before she could ask about it, their horse picked up his pace, heading directly toward a second, smaller barn.
    Inside, Whit reined in his mount and helped Cara down before unsaddling Red and tossing the saddle over a stall door. Unfettered, the gelding hurried over to a food trough and began munching.
    A tall man in faded jeans and plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows stepped out of an adjoining stall and shoved back his hat, revealing white hair and a tanned, handsome face. Seeing Whit, he hurried forward to welcome him in a bear hug.
    “How’s the herd, Whit?”
    “I left them in Stone Canyon. Dumped a ton of hay from the flatbed and left it there, too. Old Red and I hunkered down during the blizzard at one of the range shacks.”
    The man’s lips split into a wide smile when he spotted Cara standing to one side. “I see you brought back a souvenir.”
    “Brady, this is Cara Walton. Cara, our ranch foreman, Brady Storm.”
    If the foreman had questions, he was too polite to ask them. Cara’s palm was engulfed in a large calloused hand. “Hello, Cara.”
    “Brady. It’s nice to meet you.”
    “Cara will be staying with us for a while.”
    “Well, then.” Brady tipped his hat. “I’ll see you inside at supper.” He carried a pitchfork across the width of the barn and carefully hung it on a hook before selecting a shovel and stepping outside.
    “Come on.” Whit slung his saddlebags over his shoulder and turned toward the house. “Time for you to meet the family.”

Chapter Eight
    H ey, Mad.” Whit paused in the doorway of the mudroom, where he’d hung his saddlebags and wide-brimmed hat before prying off his boots and washing his hands at the sink. “I see your scooter finally came.”
    At the sound of Whit’s voice, the old man turned a sleek red electric scooter from the stove to face his grandson. “That it did, laddie. Isn’t it dandy? And just look at how easy it is to operate.” He turned the scooter this way and that at the touch of a button. “Where has this thing been all my life?” He rolled closer. “You’ve been gone long enough, laddie. Got socked in by that blizzard up in the hills, did you?”
    “Yeah. Dumped a ton of snow up there. But it’s melting as fast as it