Denim and Diamonds Read online

  “I do most days.”

  “Does he know I’m back?”

  Lonny’s fingers gripped the back door handle. “He knows,” he said without looking at her.

  Letty nodded and she curled her hands into fists. “Is he…married?”

  Lonny shook his head. “Nope, and I don’t imagine he ever will be, either.” He hesitated before adding, “Chase is a lot different now from the guy you used to know. I hope you’re not expecting anything from him, because you’re headed for a big disappointment if you are. You’ll know what I mean once you see him.”

  A short silence followed while Letty considered her brother’s words. “You needn’t worry that I’ve come home expecting things to be the way they were between Chase and me. If he’s different…that’s fine. We’ve all changed.”

  Lonny nodded and was gone.

  The house was quiet after her brother left. His warning about Chase seemed to taunt her. The Chase Brown she knew was gentle, kind, good. When Letty was seventeen he’d been the only one who really understood her dreams. Although it had broken his heart, he’d loved her enough to encourage her to seek her destiny. Chase had loved her more than anyone before or since.

  And she’d thrown his love away.

  “Mommy, you were gone when I woke up.” Looking forlorn, five-year-old Cricket stood in the doorway of the kitchen, her yellow blanket clutched in her hand and dragging on the faded red linoleum floor.

  “I was just downstairs,” Letty said, holding out her arms to the youngster, who ran eagerly to her mother, climbing onto Letty’s lap.

  “I’m hungry.”

  “I’ll bet you are.” Letty brushed the dark hair away from her daughter’s face and kissed her forehead. “I was talking to Uncle Lonny this morning.”

  Cricket stared up at her with deep blue eyes that were a reflection of her own. She’d inherited little in the way of looks from her father. The dark hair and blue eyes were Ellison family traits. On occasion, Letty would see traces of Jason in their child, but not often. She tried not to think about him or their disastrous affair. He was out of her life and she wanted no part of him—except for Christina Maren, her Cricket.

  “You know what I thought we’d do today?” Letty said.

  “After breakfast?”

  “After breakfast.” She smiled. “I thought we’d clean house and bake a pie for Uncle Lonny.”

  “Apple pie,” Cricket announced with a firm nod.

  “I’m sure apple pie’s his favorite.”

  “Mine, too.”

  Together they cooked oatmeal. Cricket insisted on helping by setting the table and getting the milk from the refrigerator.

  As soon as they’d finished, Letty mopped the floor and washed the cupboards. Lonny’s declaration about not being much of a housekeeper had been an understatement. He’d done the bare minimum for years, and the house was badly in need of a thorough cleaning. Usually, physical activity quickly wore Letty out and she became breathless and light-headed. But this morning she was filled with an enthusiasm that provided her with energy.

  By noon, however, she was exhausted. At nap time, Letty lay down with Cricket, and she didn’t wake until early afternoon, when the sound of male voices drifted up the stairs. She realized almost immediately that Chase Brown was with her brother.

  Running a brush through her short, curly hair, Letty composed herself for the coming confrontation with Chase and walked calmly down the stairs.

  He and her brother were sitting at the table, drinking coffee.

  Lonny glanced up when she entered the room, but Chase looked away from her. Her brother had made a point of telling her that Chase was different, and she could see the truth of his words. Chase’s dark hair had become streaked with gray in her absence. Deep crevices marked his forehead and grooved the sides of his mouth. In nine years he’d aged twenty, Letty thought with a stab of regret. Part of her longed to wrap her arms around him the way she had so many years before. She yearned to bury her head in his shoulder and weep for the pain she’d caused him.

  But she knew she couldn’t.

  “Hello, Chase,” she said softly, walking over to the stove and reaching for the coffeepot.

  “Letty.” He lowered his head in greeting, but kept his eyes averted.

  “It’s good to see you again.”

  He didn’t answer that; instead, he returned his attention to her brother. “I was thinking about separating part of the herd, driving them a mile or so south. Of course, that’d mean hauling the feed a lot farther, but I believe the benefits will outweigh that inconvenience.”

  “I think you’re going to a lot of effort for nothing,” Lonny said, frowning.

  Letty pulled out a chair and sat across from Chase. He could ignore her for only so long. Still, his gaze skirted hers, and he did his utmost to avoid looking at her.

  “Who are you?”

  Letty turned to the doorway, where Cricket was standing, blanket held tightly in her hand.

  “Cricket, this is Uncle Lonny’s neighbor, Mr. Brown.”

  “I’m Cricket,” she said, grinning cheerfully.

  “Hello.” Chase spoke in a gruff, unfriendly tone, obviously doing his best to disregard the little girl in the same manner he chose to overlook her mother.

  A small cry of protest rose in Letty’s throat. Chase could be as angry with her as he wanted. The way she figured it, that was his right, but he shouldn’t take out his bitterness on an innocent child.

  “Your hair’s a funny color,” Cricket commented, fascinated. “I think it’s pretty like that.” Her yellow blanket in tow, she marched up to Chase and raised her hand to touch the salt-and-pepper strands that were more pronounced at his temple.

  Chase frowned and moved back so there wasn’t any chance of her succeeding.

  “My mommy and I are going to bake a pie for Uncle Lonny. Do you want some?”

  Letty held her breath, waiting for Chase to reply. Something about him appeared to intrigue Cricket. The child couldn’t stop staring at him. Her actions seemed to unnerve Chase, who made it obvious that he’d like nothing better than to forget her existence.

  “I don’t think Mr. Brown is interested in apple pie, sweetheart,” Letty said, trying to fill the uncomfortable silence.

  “Then we’ll make something he does like,” Cricket insisted. She reached for Chase’s hand and tugged, demanding his attention. “Do you like chocolate chip cookies? I do. And Mommy makes really yummy ones.”

  For a moment Chase stared at Cricket, and the pain that flashed in his dark eyes went straight through Letty’s heart. A split second later he glanced away as though he couldn’t bear to continue looking at the child.

  “Do you?” Cricket persisted.

  Chase nodded, although it was clearly an effort to do so.

  “Come on, Mommy,” Cricket cried. “I want to make them now.”

  “What about my apple pie?” Lonny said, his eyes twinkling.

  Cricket ignored the question, intent on the cookie-making task. She dragged her blanket after her as she started opening and closing the bottom cupboards, searching for bowls and pans. She dutifully brought out two of each and rummaged through the drawers until she located a wooden spoon. Then, as though suddenly finding the blanket cumbersome, the child lifted it from the floor and placed it in Chase’s lap.

  Letty could hardly believe her eyes. She’d brought Cricket home from the hospital in that yellow blanket and the little girl had slept with it every night of her life since. Rarely would she entrust it to anyone, let alone a stranger.

  Chase looked down on the much-loved blanket as if the youngster had deposited a dirty diaper in his lap.

  “I’ll take it,” Letty said, holding out her hands.

  Chase gave it to her, and when he did, his cold gaze locked with hers. Letty felt the chill in his eyes all the way through her bones. His bitterness toward her was evident with every breath he drew.

  “It would’ve been better if you’d never co
me back,” he said so softly she had to strain to hear.

  She opened her mouth to argue. Even Lonny didn’t know the real reason she’d returned to Wyoming. No one did, except her doctor in California. She hadn’t meant to come back and disrupt Chase’s life—or anyone else’s, for that matter. Chase didn’t need to spell out that he didn’t want anything to do with her. He’d made that clear the minute she walked into the kitchen.

  “Mommy, hurry,” Cricket said. “We have to bake cookies.”

  “Just a minute, sweetheart.” Letty was uncertain how to handle this new problem. She doubted Lonny had chocolate chips in the house, and a trip into town was more than she wanted to tackle that afternoon. “Cricket…”

  Lonny and Chase both stood. “I’m driving on over to Chase’s for the rest of the afternoon,” Lonny told her. He obviously wasn’t accustomed to letting anyone know his whereabouts and did so now only as an afterthought.

  “Can I go, too?” Cricket piped up, so eager her blue eyes sparkled with the idea.

  Letty wanted her daughter to be comfortable with Lonny, and she would have liked to encourage the two of them to become friends, but the frown that darkened Chase’s brow told her now wasn’t the time.

  “Not today,” Letty murmured, looking away from the two men.

  Cricket pouted for a few minutes but didn’t argue. It wouldn’t have mattered if she had, because Lonny and Chase left without another word.

  —

  Dinner was ready and waiting when Lonny returned to the house that evening. Cricket ran to greet him, her pigtails bouncing. “Mommy and me cooked dinner for you!”

  Lonny smiled down on her and absently patted her head, then went to the bathroom to wash his hands. Letty watched him and felt a tugging sense of discontent. After years of living alone, Lonny tended not to be as communicative as Letty wanted him to be. This was understandable, but it made her realize how lonely he must be out here on the ranch night after night without anyone to share his life. Ranchers had to be more stubborn than any other breed of male, Letty thought.

  To complicate matters, there was the issue of Cricket staying with Lonny while Letty had the surgery. The little girl had never been away from her overnight.

  Letty’s prognosis for a complete recovery was good, but there was always the possibility that she wouldn’t be coming home from the hospital. Any number of risks had to be considered with this type of operation, and if anything were to happen, Lonny would have to raise Cricket on his own. Letty didn’t doubt he’d do so with the greatest of care, but he simply wasn’t accustomed to dealing with children.

  By the time her brother had finished washing up, dinner was on the table. He gazed down at the ample amount of food and grinned appreciatively. “I can’t tell you how long it’s been since I’ve had a home-cooked meal like this. I’ve missed it.”

  “What have you been eating?”

  He shrugged. “I come up with something or other, but nothing as appetizing as this.” He sat down and filled his plate, hardly waiting for Cricket and Letty to join him.

  He was buttering his biscuit when he paused and looked at Letty. Slowly he put down the biscuit and placed his knife next to his plate. “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “Sure,” she answered, smiling weakly. Actually, she wasn’t—the day had been exhausting. She’d tried to do too much and she was paying the price, feeling shaky and weak. “What makes you ask?”

  “You’re pale.”

  That could be attributed to seeing Chase again, but Letty didn’t say so. Their brief meeting had left her feeling melancholy all afternoon. She’d been so young and so foolish, seeking the bright lights, utterly convinced that she’d never be satisfied with the lot of a rancher’s wife. She’d wanted diamonds, not denim.

  “No, I’m fine,” she lied as Lonny picked up the biscuit again.

  “Mommy couldn’t find any chocolate chips,” Cricket said, frowning, “so we just baked the apple pie.”

  Lonny nodded, far more interested in his gravy and biscuits than in conversing with a child.

  “I took Cricket out to the barn and showed her the horses,” Letty said.

  Lonny nodded, then helped himself to seconds on the biscuits. He spread a thick layer of butter on each half.

  “I thought maybe later you could let Cricket give them their oats,” Letty prompted.

  “The barn isn’t any place for a little girl,” Lonny murmured, dismissing the suggestion with a quick shake of his head.

  Cricket looked disappointed and Letty mentally chastised herself for mentioning the idea in front of her daughter. She should have known better.

  “Maybe Uncle Lonny will let me ride his horsey?” Cricket asked, her eyes wide and hopeful. “Mommy had a horsey when she was a little girl—I saw the picture in her room. I want one, too.”

  “You have to grow up first,” Lonny said brusquely, ending the conversation.

  It was on the tip of Letty’s tongue to ask Lonny if he’d let Cricket sit in a saddle, but he showed no inclination to form a relationship with her daughter.

  Letty was somewhat encouraged when Cricket went in to watch television with Lonny while she finished the dishes. But no more than ten minutes had passed before she heard Cricket burst into tears. A moment later, she came running into the kitchen. She buried her face in Letty’s stomach and wrapped both arms around her, sobbing so hard her shoulders shook.

  Lonny followed Cricket into the room, his face a study in guilt and frustration.

  “What happened?” Letty asked, stroking her daughter’s head.

  Lonny threw his hands in the air. “I don’t know! I turned on the TV and I was watching the news, when Cricket said she wanted to see cartoons.”

  “There aren’t any on right now,” Letty explained.

  Cricket sobbed louder, then lifted her head. Tears ran unrestrained down her cheeks. “He said no, real mean.”

  “She started talking to me in the middle of a story about the rodeo championships in Vegas, for Pete’s sake.” Lonny stabbed his fingers through his hair.

  “Cricket, Uncle Lonny didn’t mean to upset you,” Letty told her. “He was watching his program and you interrupted him, that’s all.”

  “But he said it mean.”

  “I hardly raised my voice,” Lonny came back, obviously perplexed. “Are kids always this sensitive?”

  “Not really,” Letty assured him. Cricket was normally an easygoing child. Fits of crying were rare and usually the result of being overtired. “It was probably a combination of the flight and a busy day.”

  Lonny nodded and returned to the living room without speaking to Cricket directly. Letty watched him go with a growing sense of concern. Lonny hadn’t been around children in years and didn’t have the slightest notion how to deal with a five-year-old. Cricket had felt more of a rapport with Chase than she did her own uncle, and Chase had done everything he could to ignore her.

  Letty spent the next few minutes comforting her daughter. After giving Cricket a bath, Letty read her a story and tucked her in for the night. With her hand on the light switch, she acted out a game they’d played since Cricket was two.

  “Blow out the light,” she whispered.

  The child blew with all her might. At that precise moment, Letty flipped the switch.

  “Good night, Mommy.”

  “Night, sweetheart.”

  Lonny was waiting for her in the living room, still frowning over the incident between him and his niece. “I don’t know, Letty,” he said, apparently still unsettled. “I don’t seem to be worth much in the uncle department.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” she said, trying to smile, but her thoughts were troubled. She couldn’t schedule the surgery if she wasn’t sure Cricket would be comfortable with Lonny.

  “I’ll try not to upset her again,” Lonny said, looking doubtful, “but I don’t think I relate well to kids. I’ve been a bachelor for too long.”

  Bachelor…

  That was
it. The solution to her worries. All evening she’d been thinking how lonely her brother was and how he needed someone to share his life. The timing was perfect.

  Her gaze flew to her brother and she nearly sighed aloud with relief. What Lonny needed was a wife.

  And Letty was determined to find him one.

  Fast.

  Chapter 2

  It wasn’t exactly the welcome parade Letty had dreamed about, with the bright red convertible and the high school marching band, but Red Springs’ reception was characteristically warm.

  “Letty, it’s terrific to see you again!”

  “Why, Letty Ellison, I thought you were your dear mother. I never realized how much you resemble Maren. I still miss her, you know.”

  “Glad you’re back, Letty. Hope you plan to stay awhile.”

  Letty smiled and shook hands and received so many hugs she was late for the opening hymn at the Methodist church on Sunday morning.

  With Cricket by her side, she slipped silently into a pew and reached for a hymnal. The hymn was a familiar one from her childhood, and Letty knew the lyrics well. But even before she opened her mouth to join the others, tears welled up in her eyes. The organ music swirled around her, filling what seemed to be an unending void in her life. It felt so good to be back. So right to be standing in church with her childhood friends and the people she loved.

  Attending services here was part of the magnetic pull that had brought her back to Wyoming. This comforting and spiritual experience reminded her that problems were like mountains. There wasn’t one she couldn’t handle with God’s help. Either she’d climb it, pass around it or carve a tunnel through it.

  The music continued and Letty reached for a tissue, dabbing at the tears. Her throat had closed up, and that made singing impossible, so she stood with her eyes shut, soaking up the words of the age-old hymn.

  Led by instinct, she’d come back to Red Springs, back to the Bar E and the small Methodist church in the heart of town. She was wrapping everything that was important and familiar around her like a homemade quilt on a cold December night.