A Creed in Stone Creek Part 38

The hard line of Steven's shoulders seemed to soften slightly. "Okay," he said. And he glanced toward the window again.

Who was he looking for?

Melissa didn't get the opportunity to ask until the meal was over and the dishes had been put away and everybody was ready to head into town, including Tom.

And by then, she'd forgotten she'd had a question in the first place.

STEVEN WAITED in Melissa's living room while she disappeared to exchange Kim's clothes for an outfit of her own. She returned looking five kinds of wonderful in black jeans that fit her only slightly more loosely than a second skin, and a blouse just like the peach one she'd had on the day before, except that it was turquoise. And not soaked in blood. in Melissa's living room while she disappeared to exchange Kim's clothes for an outfit of her own. She returned looking five kinds of wonderful in black jeans that fit her only slightly more loosely than a second skin, and a blouse just like the peach one she'd had on the day before, except that it was turquoise. And not soaked in blood.

To complete the look, she'd pulled on a pair of superfancy boots, also turquoise, and decorated with shining silver conchos and a few rhinestones for good measure.

"Wow," Steven said. She wouldn't be mucking out any stalls in those boots, that was for sure.

"The last time I wore these," Melissa replied, "I was Queen of Stone Creek Rodeo Days."

Steven cleared his throat. "They've held up well," he said, sliding his gaze upward from the boots, past all the hidden places where he'd touched and kissed her in bed that morning, until he reached her face. "And so have you."

She laughed. "Nice save," she said.

Steven shifted. "We can do this, can't we?" he asked.

Melissa crossed to him, slipped her arms around his waist, stood on tiptoe to kiss the cleft in his chin. "Do what?" she countered softly, her eyes twinkly and warm.

For a moment, he felt as though he might tumble right into those eyes, and fall end over end, forever.

"Make it work," Steven said. "You. Me. Us."

"We can make it work," Melissa confirmed gently, splaying her hands over his shoulder blades now. "All we have to do is keep trying, Steven. If we give things time, and we don't give up, we'll be fine."

He smiled, bent his head to nibble at her lips. "Spoken like someone who comes from st.u.r.dy pioneer stock," he teased.

"Just like you do," she breathed, against his mouth.

"We could be a little late for the rodeo," he suggested.

"What rodeo?" Melissa asked.

At that, Steven scooped her up in his arms and carried her to bed.

MELISSA COULDN'T STOP SMILING, which was crazy, since she'd nearly been killed the night before, in the Stop & Shop. Steven's lovemaking, in his bed and later in hers, had left her feeling as though every step she took was part of a dance.

Was it a risk, letting herself love a man so completely?

Of course it was. But, just as Steven said, she was descended from pioneers, people like Sam and Maddie O'Ballivan, and generations as strong as they were. They hadn't been afraid to open their hearts to that special person, and Melissa wasn't, either.

Nor were Brad and Meg. Or Olivia and Tanner. Or Ashley and Jack.

All of whom, as it happened, were sitting in the same part of the bleachers as Davis and Kim and Matt when Steven and Melissa arrived, holding hands. Matt, in fact, was playing chase with Mac, in the aisle between rows of seats, waiting out the lull between events.

Olivia, Ashley and Meg were immediately on their booted feet, rushing Melissa, each of them hugging her in turn, all of them crying and saying over and over again how glad they were that she was safe.

The men, Melissa noticed, despite the onslaught of sisterly love, just shook their heads.

When the emcee announced the bareback bronc-riding event, they all returned to their seats. Brody was competing in this round.

Or was he? Melissa blinked at the man coming up the aisle, his hat in one hand, a grin spreading across his handsome face. He looked exactly like Brody.

But he wasn't.

Melissa felt Steven stiffen beside her.

The stands were packed, and a roar went up as the emcee announced the first rider. "We have an out-of-towner with us today, folks," the familiar voice boomed out, over the loudspeakers. "Let's hear a real Stone Creek welcome for #32, Brody Creed, out of Lonesome Bend, Colorado!"

The roar intensified.

Melissa missed the whole eight seconds of Brody's ride, because she couldn't tear her eyes away from the man in the aisle.

Not a vestige of his grin remained, and his hands were clenched into fists at his sides.

"Uh-oh," Davis said, low. Then, by some tacit agreement, he and Steven both got to their feet.

"Who is is that?" Melissa asked Matt, who had stationed himself in her lap. that?" Melissa asked Matt, who had stationed himself in her lap.

"That's Conner," Matt said. "Him and Brody are twins, just like you and your sister. Only they're the kind that look alike."

Conner, his face hard with anger, looked at Davis and Steven and turned to head back down the aisle.

Melissa looked to Kim, and saw that the other woman was worried.

Davis and Steven followed Conner, and soon, all three of them were out of sight.

"What's going on?" Melissa asked Steven's stepmother.

"World War III, probably," Kim answered, but there was a flicker of something in her eyes, despite her serious expression. On some level, she was pleased pleased by this development. by this development.

"Are we just going to sit here?" Melissa asked, fretful.

"Yes," Kim replied firmly. "For Matt's sake, if no one else's."

"Where did Dad and Grandpa go?" Matt asked.

"They're getting hot dogs," Kim said, without missing a beat.

Melissa looked at her in surprise.

But Kim just smiled and turned her attention back to the rodeo, where Brody's score was just being posted on the big board above the announcer's booth.

The numbers were impressive; he'd be hard to beat.

But a whole bunch of other cowboys were ready, willing and able to give it a try.

CONNER WAS ABOUT to climb back into his dusty black truck and speed away when Steven and Davis caught up to him. to climb back into his dusty black truck and speed away when Steven and Davis caught up to him.

Davis reached out and spun his nephew around, thrust him hard against the side of the rig. "Didn't you get the memo, Conner?" he asked, through his teeth. "A Creed doesn't run. From anything."

"Tell that to my twin brother!" Conner spat furiously, his eyes shooting azure-blue flames.

"Why don't you you tell him?" Steven asked, folding his arms. His boot heels were planted hard in the gravel of the fairgrounds, and he'd widened his stance slightly, too, just in case Conner threw a punch. tell him?" Steven asked, folding his arms. His boot heels were planted hard in the gravel of the fairgrounds, and he'd widened his stance slightly, too, just in case Conner threw a punch.

Stranger things had happened.

"I'm not telling him anything," Conner said, the words raspy and raw, like they'd sc.r.a.ped their way past his throat. He glared at Steven. "But I've got something to say to you, you, that's for d.a.m.n sure. You set this up. You that's for d.a.m.n sure. You set this up. You knew, knew, cousin. And I don't know if I can forgive you for that." cousin. And I don't know if I can forgive you for that."

"Grow up," Davis told Conner. A few stragglers, late for the rodeo, glanced in their direction, but n.o.body looked like they were fool enough to interfere in what was obviously a matter between close kin. "Whatever happened between you and Brody, it's time to get past it and move on. Dammit, we're family. family."

Conner ran the back of his hand across his mouth. He was still p.i.s.sed off, but out of good sense, respect for his elders, or both, he didn't speak his mind to Davis.

Then again, he didn't have have to. It was written all over him. He was mad from the top of his hat to the soles of his battered boots, and he wouldn't be over it anytime soon. If ever. to. It was written all over him. He was mad from the top of his hat to the soles of his battered boots, and he wouldn't be over it anytime soon. If ever.

He turned to open his truck door, and this time Davis didn't make a move to stop him. Neither did Steven.

It took them all by surprise when, before Conner could start up that truck of his and drive away in the proverbial cloud of dust, Brody appeared, thrusting his way between Steven and Davis and lunging at Conner.

The whole scene reminded Steven of two bucks in rutting season, circling, preparing to lock antlers.

It was unclear whether Brody pulled open the truck door, or Conner pushed from the other side, but the next thing anybody knew, the brothers were rolling around on the ground, throwing punches, grunting and obviously bent on killing each other.

Steven sighed and started toward them, but Davis caught hold of his arm. The old man might have been in his fifties, but he was still strong.

"Let them settle it," Davis said.

Conner and Brody were so equally matched that Steven figured the fight would run into the middle of next week. Instead, they both wound up exhausted and rolled onto their backs in the dirt, breathing hard and cursing like a pair of old salts with seawater in their veins.

Davis grinned.

One of Tom Parker's deputies rushed over, red-faced. "We don't allow fighting inside the city limits," he bl.u.s.tered. An older man, significantly overweight, the deputy probably should have retired years before.

Brody hoisted himself upright and, beside him, Conner did the same.

"This isn't settled," Brody gasped out.

"You're d.a.m.n right it isn't," Conner retorted, just as short of breath.

Brody got to his feet. "I've gotta go," he said.

"You scared I'll kick your a.s.s?" Conner asked, rising, too.

"No," Brody bit out, "but I paid good money to compete in this rodeo, and I've got another event to ride in."

"I'll be waiting," Conner told him.

"You'd be one chickens.h.i.t son-of-a-b.i.t.c.h b.a.s.t.a.r.d if you weren't," Brody retorted. He bent to retrieve his hat from the ground and whacked it against one thigh, making the dust fly.

Conner made a move toward Brody, but Davis put out his hand again, making contact with the younger man's chest this time.

"Go make your ride," Davis told Brody, though he was smiling warmly at the deputy the whole time. "Everything's fine now, officer. We won't trouble you again."

Brody strode off toward the arena.

Conner swore and picked up his own fallen hat, punched the inside of the crown back into shape with so much force that Steven half expected his cousin's fist to break through. He rolled his broad shoulders and then glared at Steven before plunking his hat back on his head.

"You don't know what you've started," Conner bit out. There was sadness in his eyes now, along with the lingering anger. "If you did, Steven, you'd have left Brody and me alone."

Steven ached inside. As kids, the three of them had been close. Their summers were almost magical back then, straight out of Huckleberry Finn. Huckleberry Finn.

When had that changed? What had gone so wrong between Brody and Conner that they couldn't even look at each other without tying in with fists flying?

"I guess I was hoping you'd gotten over whatever it was that came between you," Steven said quietly. "Or whoever, whoever," Davis put in.

Steven turned to look at his father, suddenly wondering if Davis had known what the trouble was all along.

"She's long gone," Davis went on, still watching Conner. "Isn't it time you and Brody put that whole business behind you and moved on?"

A woman, Steven thought. He should have guessed that much but, back when the split happened, and Brody and Conner went their separate ways, he'd been too wrapped up in his own problems to really put his mind to it. Steven thought. He should have guessed that much but, back when the split happened, and Brody and Conner went their separate ways, he'd been too wrapped up in his own problems to really put his mind to it.

He'd been reeling then, from his granddad's death, following so quickly after his mother had pa.s.sed away unexpectedly. He'd been embroiled in a battle with his maternal uncles over his inheritance. Busy making a name for himself in the Denver firm where Zack worked.

In those days, he'd believed that Brody and Conner would simply work out their differences. After all, identical twins or not, they'd always had plenty plenty of differences. of differences.

Instead, a decade had gone by, with both of them holding their grudges, unwilling to give so much as an inch.

The waste made Steven grind his back teeth. All those Thanksgivings and Christmases, when Brody's chair at the big dining room table was empty. All those weddings and births and deaths. All those years when they could have been, should should have been, a family. have been, a family.

When tragedy struck Jillie down, and then Zack, Davis and Kim and Conner had been there for Steven. But he'd missed Brody sorely during those days, just the same.

Now, he felt a strong and sudden-or maybe not so sudden-urge to throttle Conner, right then and there, then find Brody and do the same thing to him. To keep himself from doing just that, Steven turned on one boot heel and headed back to where Matt and Melissa were.