On that, she walked out the door and didn’t bother to close it. Once she reached the edge of the lighted area, she bolted through the darkness. Her lungs tight, she sank to the ground beneath an oak tree.
Life was hell when you had to look at yourself through a two-way mirror and see all your faults and bad habits in living color. Pointed out by a man who had been on the receiving end of her bad behavior. She never dreamed she’d met him before. She’d never…Damn it! She could blame a lot of people, but the only person to blame was herself. Back then her resentment toward her mother had clouded her judgment and her actions. Sky had been out of control, drinking and partying way too much.
Drawing a long breath, she listened to the coyotes in the distance and the crickets chirping. She was wrong. She’d misjudged Cooper because he hadn’t been bowled over by her. That’s what had irritated her. Seeing vanity in herself wasn’t easy.
Cait had always said that one day Sky might have to eat her words about Cooper. She was, and they tasted like a bull nettle going down her throat. Startling. Burning. Awakening.
She glanced up toward the heavens. “If you’re watching, I could use a little help.” Her father had said that when she was grown she would see her faults clearly. They were about as bright as the twinkling stars. She rose to her feet and started toward the house.
Growing up was hell.
COOPER STOOD THERE for five minutes before he closed the door. He hadn’t meant to say so much, but she had a way of triggering his emotions. He didn’t analyze that any further because he didn’t want to know why the woman had such an effect on him. Never in his life had he judged anyone, but with her he couldn’t help himself.
He sat at the table and pushed the plate aside.
Friends or enemies.
His choice.
There was only one way to settle this, the same way he settled every big decision in his life. He never thought of himself as a gambler, but some days a man just had to take a risk.
Jamming a hand into his jeans pocket, he pulled out a quarter. As he flipped it in the air, he called, “Heads.” Catching the coin, he laid it flat on the table and stared at it a long time. “That’s the way it will be.” He blew out a breath. “And God help us all.”
COOPER WOKE UP at 4:00 a.m., as always. He had an internal clock that never failed him. After making coffee, he dressed. The food the redhead had brought still sat on the table. It was ruined now, so he carried it outside and gave it to the dogs. Then he washed the plate and drank two cups of coffee. Ready for the day, he headed for the barn, keeping his mind blank. He refused to think about the redhead.
He walked to the lean-to and crawled onto a tractor with a front-end loader. The open well shaft he’d found yesterday had to be filled. The tractor puttered to life and he could see clearly in the beam of the headlights. An hour later he had the hole filled with sand. He laid the boards back on top and dumped more sand to make them secure. Now he felt sure the problem was solved.
Driving back, he saw a group of wild pigs scurrying away from the tractor. Damn! They could do more damage than good to the pastures.
As he parked the tractor in the lean-to, he knew he couldn’t hold off the morning. And his decision.
A yellow glow already bathed the sky, and soon the sun would burst forth to start another day. A peaceful quiet seemed to prevail before the world awoke. He felt that quiet inside him, urging him on. He headed for the house.
As he entered the kitchen, Etta was at the stove and Ru sat eating breakfast.
Etta glanced at him. “It’s about time. Have a seat. I’ll have your breakfast ready in no time.”
“Thank you, Etta.” He placed his hat on a rack.
Sitting next to Ru, he avoided looking at the little girl seated across the table in a booster chair.
“Glad you and Sky got everything sorted out,” Rufus said, buttering a biscuit.
Coop didn’t answer as he accepted the mug of coffee Etta handed him.
“I’m Kira,” a little voice said from across the table.
Cooper didn’t know a thing about kids so he thought it best to ignore the child.
“What’s your name?”
He took a swallow of coffee.
“What’s your name?” the kid persisted.
“For Pete’s sake, answer,” Ru snapped.
Coop looked at the little girl with the red curly hair. Dressed in a pink nightgown, she held an orangey-red stuffed animal in one arm.
Swallowing, he said, “I’m Cooper.”
“Coo.”
“Cooper.”
“Coo.”
“Coop…”
He trailed off as Etta placed bacon and eggs in front of him.
“What you eating, Coo?”
Cooper clenched his jaw. Did the kid have a hearing problem? “Bacon and eggs,” he muttered, hoping the little girl turned her attention elsewhere.
“Etta, can I have bacon and eggs, please?”
“You haven’t finished your oatmeal.”
“I don’t like it.”
“Mmm. You’ll eat bacon and eggs?”
“Yes.”
Coop dug into his breakfast and did his best to ignore the child.
“I played with Georgie yesterday. He’s having a birthday party and I’m going.”
Coop took a bite of biscuit and kept on ignoring her.
“I think it’s tomorrow. I don’t know. I have to ask Mommy, but Aunt Maddie’s making a cake and everything. Do you like cake?”
Coop took another swallow of coffee.
Rufus stood with his plate in his hand. Bending low, he whispered, “She’s not contagious.”
“Yeah,” Coop mumbled.
Etta laid a small plate with a cut-up egg and some bacon in front of the girl. The child picked up a fork and began to eat. Coop noticed her watching him. Every time he put a bite in his mouth, so did she. When he reached for his coffee, she drank her milk.
The redhead appeared in the doorway, dressed for the day in tight jeans and a pearl-snap shirt that outlined her curvy breasts. Not that he noticed.
The child swung to her. “Look, Mommy, I’m eating with Coo.”
Sky glanced from her child to him. “You ate eggs?”
The girl nodded, sporting a milk mustache.
“Time to get dressed, baby.”
Cooper rose to his feet, banking down any resentment he felt toward this woman. “I thought I’d check the hayfields this morning to see how much rain we got. As soon as it dries out, we should be able to get a first cutting.”
Sky did a double take. His voice sounded cordial. Almost. But she wasn’t going to look this gift horse in the mouth. He was here, eating. That was a step forward.
“Good,” she replied.
“I saw some wild pigs this morning and I want to make sure they’re not rooting up the fields.”
“Wild pigs?”
“They’re common around here.”
“Yeah.” Rufus joined the conversation. “Skully