Broken Deeds, Broken Hearts

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Dragonfly Spirit Books

Broken Deeds, Broken Hearts

Copyright © 2015 Cindy A. Christiansen

First E-book Publication: November 2015

Cover design by Dawné Dominique

Edited by W. W. Remley

Proofread by Makayla Christiane

All cover art and logo copyright © 2015 by Dragonfly Spirit Books

Dedication

To all those who think romance writing has no merit—

Well, you’ll never read this anyway.

Chapter One

CARLY SUE MCCLUSKIE leaned her hot pink Kawasaki Ninja motorcycle into the turn down the dirt road to the old farm and slowed. She hated the idea of returning after eight years. She had done everything in her power to leave her past behind and her memories of growing up in Elkhorn, Utah. She hadn’t set so much as a foot back in the whole of Summit County since leaving at the age of fifteen. Every decision she had made since then had been to distance herself from the country lifestyle Ezra, her father’s uncle, had tried to ram down her throat.

She couldn’t say she was sorry the old buzzard had died, either. He was the most miserable man God had ever placed on the earth. She didn’t regret the day she had run away to escape him. Spotting the rusty tin roof of the barn and sporadic blue shingles left on the old house made her slow her progression even further. Just getting closer brought back years of pain and suffering from having lived with him.

And it wasn’t just Ezra. At the time, she suddenly had no friends at all at school. She had no idea what had happened, only that everyone avoided her like the plague. She had walked up to her best friend, Bailey, standing at their locker. Bailey had looked at her with big teal eyes and pulled at one of her auburn braids. Sorry, Carly Sue. You know how it is. She shrugged, turned, and walked away. She never spoke to Carly again.

Carly hadn’t understood what had changed. She still didn’t understand. Why had everyone started treating her differently...cruelly? Of course, she had never had many friends because of Ezra, but what had changed? Her chest tightened, and she swallowed hard. She didn’t want to remember the past.

She wanted to get this whole business of closing Ezra’s estate over with and get on with her life at her bakery, Sweet Creams. She had worked hard to get this far, and she had done it alone.

She wanted nothing from Ezra, not that there would be anything left. She wasn’t stupid. The attorney, Andrew Baxter, had indicated there were financial concerns, and she knew Ezra well enough to know he would have drank any profits the farm produced. So far, they hadn't been able to find a Last Will and Testament or any of Ezra's other important papers. Most likely, there weren't any to be found. Everything would go into probate and then his creditors would be paid off. That was fine with her. She hadn’t even wanted an autopsy, but they had insisted since he died alone. They considered that suspicious circumstances. She had no idea why she agreed since he was seventy-five and an alcoholic. And, Carly wasn't even certain why she had arranged for a graveside service, except maybe to make sure he was actually dead and buried. She scoffed. She would have rather had him cremated and not bothered with a burial, but then she would have had to wait until the autopsy and the rest of the investigation was over. She wanted him gone and buried. There was no love lost between them.

She pulled up next to the rickety picket fence that needed a good coat of paint and parked her motorcycle. She half expected Mr. Baxter to meet her, but they hadn't made such an arrangement. She slipped off her helmet, swung her leg over the seat, and hung her helmet on the handlebar. She peeked at her image in the side mirror of her motorcycle. Helmets did nothing for hairdos.

She tried to fluff her hair as she walked around the side of the house, checking things out. The place hadn't changed for the good over the years. Of course, Ezra wouldn’t have wasted good liquor money on paint, that was for sure. She looked up and noticed an open window on the house. What would that be doing open? Water came flying out of the window, not giving her a chance to flee or duck. The cool liquid hit her right in the face and soaked the front of her blouse. She gasped.

What in the name of Beelzebub— a voice came from the house. Is that you, Jewel?

Carly couldn’t catch her breath to answer. Something moved behind her. She whirled around, her hair dripping water, to face a growling Border collie. The right side of the dog’s face was black, the other white. Carly noticed the graying muzzle and light brown eyes. The screen door squawked and slammed.

A cowboy—hat, boots, western-detailed shirt and all—rounded the house and stopped cold. Carly had never had anyone stare at her with such intense emotion. She didn’t know what to make of it. The dog let out a small growl again and looked at the man.

Jewel, leave it, he said, his expression quickly changing and his lips pulling into a smile. He pushed his hat back and then folded his arms across his chest. Well, now. Mighty sorry about that.

If she hadn’t been so angry, she might have noticed his broad shoulders, bulging pecs, lean hips, wavy dark hair, and dusty brown eyes. Wait a minute. She had noticed.

His smile faded. Don’t tell me. His shoulders slumped. You must be Carly Sue McCluskie.

What are you doing on this property? she asked.

Come in the house. I’ll get you a towel. He turned and strode around the corner.

She heard the screen door again, sighed, and looked at the dog. Are you going to eat me if I move?

The dog moved toward her, tail wagging. Carly gave her a pat and headed into the house. The man was at the sink near the window, pumping water from the old rustic hand pump. Ezra hadn’t even updated the plumbing in all these years. Not surprising.

The man turned and tossed her a towel from where it sat on the counter. Dry off.

I asked you what you were doing here, she said, catching the towel and rubbing her hair.

He leaned his backside against the counter. I’ve seen women like you in Park City, Salt Lake, even Heber City, over the last few years.

What’s that supposed to mean?

Your turquoise strand of hair. Let me guess. You probably have numerous tattoos and piercings.

Carly shook her head. She had no tattoos or piercing, and her turquoise hair was actually a clip-in colored hair extension because she didn’t have the nerve to color her own hair. However, she had no desire to tell this cowboy her secrets...no matter how good looking.

You’ll never know. Now, what are you doing here? she asked again.

He frowned and straightened. Baxter asked me to come over and make sure things were in running order for you. I got the pump primed, but you can’t dump the water down the drain. Probably tree roots or rust has been blocking the pipes for years. The generator is working. You’ll find the fuel for it in the barn. There’s some wood chopped for the stove and a few canned goods in the cupboard. It’s pretty primitive around here. Not what you’re used to, I’m sure. You’d be better off heading to Kamas or Park City to stay. Take you about fifteen minutes to get to Kamas and forty-five to get to Park City. I’ve been taking care of the livestock since Ezra died. What’s your intentions with this place, Carly Sue? He glared at her.

That mouthful took a minute to sink into Carly’s head. Not what you’re used to. He had no idea what she was used to. She had thought of this place as a palace after living on the streets after she had run away. He couldn’t begin to understand what primitive could really mean. Yet, the place also brought back too many painful memories, and she didn’t relish the thought of being here any longer than necessary. As far as her intentions with the place...

The funeral is day after tomorrow, she stated. I’m sure I can survive.

Suit yourself. He pushed away from the counter. Glad you’re not planning on staying. I’ll take care of the chores and then be on my way.

Don’t bother. I’ll take care of them and hire someone else to manage the place until Ezra’s estate has been decided.

He looked so angry. Anger was the thing she remembered most about Ezra—that and his stinking liquored breath. Who was this guy? Besides Mr. Baxter asking him to see to things, who was he? As angry as he looked, why would he be helping out?

Who are you? she asked.

Seth Wakely.

Wakely? She drew back.

The oldest son of Hadley and Lilibeth Wakely over on the Wakely Bar Ranch.

Carly’s breath caught in her throat. The Wakelys were Elkhorn, Utah. They owned over twenty-five hundred acres out of the four thousand comprising the town. Ezra had hated the Wakelys with gusto and passion. Carly couldn’t remember Seth Wakely, but she sure remembered Damon who was her age. She’d had a crush on him, but he suddenly despised her with the same hatred Ezra had for the Wakelys. Not long after that, she had run away.

Her fist clenched the towel. I won’t be needing your help any further.

Good. He pushed past her to the door and turned back.

Jewel looked through the screen door and whined.

Just so we’re clear, Carly Sue, he began.

Don’t call me Carly Sue. It’s just Carly.

It would be best for everyone, Carly Sue, if you sign whatever Baxter asks you to sign in order to sell this place, including the water shares. Don’t bother yourself with coming back and settling down here. He pushed through the screen door.

She watched him through the window as he made his way to the barn, Jewel following. Then, she dropped on a paint-stained, mismatched kitchen chair with the legs tied together with bailing wire. So the Wakelys and everyone else still hated her as much as they had Ezra. Hatred burned inside her as well. She wouldn’t dream of staying in this horrible little town—not for love or money.

SETH WAKELY FIRED UP his 1953 GMC flatbed farm truck and sped away from the McCluskie property...and Carly Sue...as fast as he could. Even looking like a drowned rat, Carly had turned into a curvaceous beauty with long mocha hair and sparkling electric-blue eyes. Her beauty had actually paralyzed him at first until he had gotten ahold of himself. That had never happened before today. What had he expected? A fifteen-year-old girl?

Carly Sue sure didn’t take after Ezra in the looks department, that was for sure. However, Seth despised that lock of turquoise color in her hair and, as a matter of fact, her. He couldn’t let himself forget all that his kin had suffered at the hands of the McCluskies.

No one in the whole of Summit County could say they were sorry Ezra was dead. Seth hated the fact that he had been the one to find him on the floor of his kitchen three days after his death with the flies buzzing around him and food still on the table. They just happened to be the old buzzard’s nearest neighbor. Ezra’s livestock had been half dead from thirst and lack of feed, and Seth had begrudgingly taken care of them ever since.

Why on earth they were doing an autopsy, he couldn’t understand. He guessed they had their procedures. Everyone, including the county sheriff, figured Ezra suffered a heart attack due to the amount of alcohol he guzzled. His liver must have looked like a pepperoni pizza.

Seth shifted into second gear as he made it onto the main dirt road. Life had to be better with that miserable old coot dead. Seth tsked. He probably should have shown some sympathy to Carly Sue, although since she ran away, she couldn’t be crazy about him, either. To Seth’s knowledge, Ezra hadn’t spoken to her since she left.

Seth sped up the truck, hoping to make it home in time for lunch. He wondered where Carly Sue had been all this time. Baxter was keeping pretty tight-lipped on the subject, which was unusual. Gossip spread around the valley faster than a dog could lick a dish. Seth reached over and run his hand down Jewel’s back.

What did you think of her? he asked the dog. Me too. Too citified. Besides, we’ve got more to deal with than the McCluskies.

Although, what would happen to Ezra’s property and water shares was of major concern to everyone in Elkhorn and even Oakley. Ezra’s property sat at the head of Crandall Canyon on the Elkhorn Divide near the top of the Elkhorn River, one of the tributaries coming out of Elkhorn Lake. The water feud between the McCluskies and the rest of the town had gone on since the mid-1870s when the area was first settled. Ezra claimed his kinfolk settled Elkhorn first, despite