“They can’t touch him.”
“Gotcha.” He followed her down the steps. “You sure you don’t mind watching Lucy for me?”
“No, I don’t mind. But I’m not going to watch you ride a bull.”
“I won’t get hurt.”
She drew in a breath and turned away from him. Too late. He reached for her arm and she shook her head. “I’m going home, Keeton. I’ll watch the baby.”
“Soph, I’m sorry.” He reached for her hand and drew her back to him. “I’m sorry.”
“Keeton, let’s stop this. We’re both adults now. It was a long time ago. It hurt. But it hadn’t hurt…”
“Until I came back.”
“Yeah, something like that. Stop bringing it up. Stop apologizing. Stop living in the past. God doesn’t want us living in the past. This is today. We have a life today that we need to concentrate on.”
He wondered if she’d really been concentrating on living this life. He held her left hand, the one that had never worn a ring. For someone moving on, living in the present, she was doing a lot of holding on to the past.
But he was the last person who would lecture her on that. He was still riding bulls. He didn’t love the sport. He didn’t really care about the championship or world titles. For years he’d been trying to win the title his brother had wanted.
He’d been trying to put his family back together.
“Okay, no more apologizing.” He smiled like he meant it and she responded, like she meant it. And neither of them did.
Sophie sighed. “I have to go. Please don’t tell my family about the land.”
“Okay.” He wanted to ask why, but he figured he got it. When a person grew up a Cooper, they didn’t have much that was just theirs. Including secrets.
A few minutes later her truck pulled onto the road. Keeton walked back into the house. He stood in the living room, waiting for the past to stop rushing at him. As a little kid he’d spent a lot of time in this house until his grandparents had moved to town. He and Kade had spent summer nights on the front porch, hoping for a little breeze because there hadn’t been air-conditioning in the house.
His grandma used to sit in a flowery chair in front of the window and fan herself with a magazine. He smiled, remembering images that hadn’t been this clear in years. This house. This land. It had been a part of him. This house and the one down the road where he’d grown up. That house now belonged to a family named Matthews.
He’d driven past today and saw that there were bikes in the front yard, a basketball hoop and horses in the corral.
At twenty he’d helped his parents pack it all up and move to Tulsa. They hadn’t been able to move on after losing Kade. They’d tried to get back to what had been their lives, and it hadn’t happened. There’d been too much guilt, too many accusations and way too much pain.
He shook his head as he walked through the empty rooms. Paneled walls. Hardwood floors that sagged in places. It was livable but it needed a lot of work. And that mangy cat had slipped back inside. The thing yowled at him, wanting food. He opened a can of tuna and sat it on the floor.
“Don’t get too comfortable in here, Mangy.”
The cat yowled again. And then the baby cried. Keeton tossed his hat on the counter and walked down the hall to the bedroom. Lucy stopped crying when she saw him. He smiled at that.
He’d had her for two days. He’d known about her for two days. When he thought about how unfair that was, it made him madder than anything. Becka had kept him from the best thing in his life. He didn’t really know what to do with a baby. But she definitely took the title for best thing ever.
The big question at the moment was how to be a bull rider and a single dad. That even put getting his land back from Sophie on hold, or made it less important somehow. He picked up his baby girl and held her close. She smelled a lot better.
“You smell good, little girl. I was afraid that other smell was permanent.”
She smiled a soft baby smile and he held her easy in one arm while he reached for the bottle and the soft blanket. She felt warm again. He’d bought a book on babies and had read warnings about high fevers, but also about not rushing to the doctor for every virus. So how did he know what to do with that advice?
“What in the world are we going to do about this fever?”
She cooed and he knew at that moment that no one had better ever hurt his little girl. They’d have to deal with him.
He was a dad. A single dad in a house without furniture. A single dad without a significant other to give him a helping hand. He’d faced some pretty mean bulls over the years, but he’d never faced anything that frightened him as much as the prospect of raising one tiny little girl.
The thought spun around in his mind. He was now responsible for another person’s future. A little person, yeah, but she wouldn’t always be little.
Someday she’d be a teenager. She’d have boyfriends. He’d have to hurt them.
“Baby, you are never, ever going to date.”
She cooed again and smiled a little. Yeah, in fifteen years she wouldn’t be smiling at him like that. With that thought in his mind he started packing the diaper bag to take Lucy to Sophie.
* * *
Sophie crumpled the note she’d found on her door when she got back from Keeton’s. But on second thought she smoothed it out and dropped it on the kitchen counter. Because, what if something happened?
A note warning her that she shouldn’t build a subdivision on farmland might be of interest to the police. If something should happen. If. But it probably meant nothing. She couldn’t think of a reason why her subdivision would upset anyone.
The only person slightly bothered by it would be Keeton, and only because the land had once belonged to his family.
Sophie opened a cabinet door and reached for her staple—peanut butter. She spread it on a slice of bread, then covered that with a layer of blackberry jam.
The perfect food.
She carried the one slice of bread with toppings to the kitchen table and sat down, putting her feet up on the chair next to the one she sat on. Her home. Her life. No one to tell her to sit up straight, pull her hair back, eat healthy.
If she wanted to, she could listen to loud music all night. She could leave every light in the house on. She could wear her pajamas all day. Bonus, her sister Heather wasn’t lurking, waiting to straighten pillows or make the bed. Although she did stop in from time to time with a new picture for the wall.
Being an adult meant no more sharing. No more brothers and sisters poking around in her life. No man cluttering things up.
No more quiet secrets at night after everyone went to bed. Yes, she did miss that part. She missed that Heather had always been there for her. She missed Mia’s silly stories.
But she loved peace and quiet. Her own space.
The picture on the table next to her mocked her with its silliness. Her new sister-in-law Madeline had given her the photograph in a silver frame, a thank-you for helping with Madeline and Jackson’s wedding. A picture of Sophie fumbling as the bouquet Madeline tossed practically fell into her arms. She pushed the picture facedown and snarled at it.
As she finished off the last bite of sandwich she heard tires crunching on gravel and the low hum of an engine. She leaned to peek out the front screen door, saw that it was Keeton and relaxed. But then she panicked. She looked down at the sweatpants she’d cut off at the knees and the crazy tie-dyed T-shirt she’d