by Linda Kage
When he focused on the woman, he didn’t recognize her at first. He had to blink twice before Emma Leigh, and then her husband, focused in his brain.
“Em?” He whispered. Holy hell, she’d come all the way back from Reno for his father’s funeral; for him.
Immediately, his gaze moved past her and past Branson. When he paused at the woman in line behind them, the breath shuddered from his lungs.
Oh, God. She was here.
His body stirred, a powerful jolt of life and love roaring through him. He was so busy staring at Jo Ellen, meeting her tear-stained gaze, he didn’t hear what Em said to him or that she even spoke until she leaned down to hug him.
“I’m so sorry for you loss, Coop. He was a good man.”
He murmured something, agreeing with her, but his attention return to her twin. She wore another skirt, a straight black thing that fell down to her knees. Her top was prim and short-sleeved, and she’d never looked so beautiful.
She held her shoulders stiffly and her hands folded tight at her waist.
He wanted to lurch to his feet so fast his chair fell over backward. Then he wanted to toss her over his shoulder and carry her far away from here. Jesus. His body actually vibrated the urge was so strong.
Branson shook Coop’s hand next, but he didn’t even feel the pressure of the other man’s grip. After Em’s husband stepped aside, Jo Ellen finally moved in front of him and paused.
Rasping her name, he started to rise, but she’d already bent to hug him, so he dropped back down into his seat.
She said nothing, just held him. One breath passed. Two breaths.
He closed his eyes, wrapping his arms around her, sinking into her scent, memorizing the texture of her blouse, consuming her essence. His lips parted as he exhaled.
All too soon, she released him and stepped back.
Cooper kept eye contact with her until Brendel’s husband sitting next to him reached out to shake her hand, tearing her attention away. And then she was gone.
His insides squirmed with jittery unease. A part of him screamed to go after her, don’t let her get away. But he was at this father’s graveside; he couldn’t just leave.
Could he?
Jesus Christ, where was his head? He couldn’t disrespect his father like that.
More people flooded through the line until he couldn’t see her anymore.
For the first time since getting that phone call from his mother at B.J.’s house, he damn near cried.
* * * *
Cooper skipped the family lunch. Actually, he’d had every intention of going, but as they left the cemetery and moved their group to the reception hall behind his church, he finally found a moment to talk to his mother again. She sidled up to him and touched his elbow. Relieved to be allowed this close to her, he encompassed her in a one-armed hug and walked along with her a few paces.
When she pulled back, they both stopped and she studied him intently. He knew she had something important to say before she opened her mouth.
“Stacia and I have been talking,” she started. “She says it’s been tough for her, raising three teen boys alone since her divorce, so I think I’m going to go live with them once this is over and settled.”
Shock speared through him. Of all the things he’d thought she might say, this was the very last.
“I…but…are you sure, Mama? This is what you really want?”
She nodded. “I need people around. Family. I need to feel useful and necessary.”
He gulped, wanting to argue how he needed her around; she was beyond necessary to him. But that just felt selfish. More than anything, he wanted his mother to be happy. “Well, then…I’ll help you get everything settled and packed. Whatever you need from me.”
She squeezed his hands and smiled. “You’re a good son, Cooper, a good man. Just like your father. You deserve to be happy.”
He frowned when she spoke those last words, repeating the very sentiment she’d given him a month ago, making him wonder if she’d only agreed to move in the hope of freeing him.
When she turned away, he didn’t follow her. He watched her spine stiffen with resolve as the rest of the family swallowed her up. Then he backed off. His sisters looked content to swaddle her with attention, and his nieces and nephews seemed better without him around, intimidating them.
He wasn’t needed here, probably wasn’t even wanted. Even his mother had severed her connections to him.
So he left.
After returning to the house, he didn’t go inside but tugged his tie loose and ripped it over his head, flinging it in the direction of the hens pecking around the edge of his mother’s garden. His black suit jacket came off next. He let the article drip from his hand and into the dying, brown grass. The oppressive midday heat beat down on him, and the sun dogged his every step, making his face slick with sweat.
He didn’t notice, he merely trudged along, aimless wandering, remembering how his father used to drift through the nursing home. He must’ve felt as lost and lonely as Cooper did.
His face burned, but he puckered up his chin, refusing to cry. He hadn’t cried when he’d heard the dreaded news from his mother. He hadn’t cried when he saw his father laid out in a casket, his body all sunken in like an empty shell and his hands folded politely in his lap. He hadn’t cried when the preacher outlined Thad’s life at the service, remembering his many years of service to the church and the community. He sure as hell wasn’t going to start now.
But everything he’d worked so hard to keep together this past year and a half had simply slipped through his fingers and landed broken and shattered around him. He hadn’t been able to keep anything together. He hadn’t even been able to make a single woman love him.
He sniffed and walked faster, unreasonably thinking the quicker he moved, the more of his heartache he could leave behind; except it kept pace, swirled around him and suffocated him. He hadn’t known where he was going until he lifted his face and found himself entering Jo Ellen’s orchard.
No matter how long he lived or how the rest of his life progressed, he’d always think of this place as hers.
And as if his innermost desires had conjured her, he glanced around the pecan trees to find the woman herself sitting in the shade of one tree, her knees drawn up to her chest and her head bowed between them.
Slowing to a stop, he stared at the mirage until he decided she wasn’t a hallucination after all; she was tangible and real, sitting in her orchard where she belonged. Heart cracking with devastating joy, he strode toward her.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Jo Ellen had to be the stupidest, most sentimental idiot alive. But she just couldn’t leave town after Thad’s funeral until she at least felt closer to Cooper. And the only place she wanted to go without approaching him physically and disturbing him during a time of grieving was her orchard.
Settled on the grass under the shade of a pecan tree, she perched her back against the trunk and closed her eyes. She envisioned him here, stealing her grapes from the tic-tac-toe board, and a smile lit her up from the inside. But just as soon as she grinned, a tear leaked down her cheek, scalding her skin. She wished she could’ve held him forever at the cemetery. He’d been so solid and real. Nothing had soothed her as much as sliding her arms around him.
But the press of people in line behind her had urged her on, away from his embrace.
She wondered how much sleep he’d managed to get lately. The dark smudges under his eyes said hardly any. She knew she could rely on the rest of Tommy Creek to keep him fed these past few days, but who had been there to comfort him at night when he had nothing but his own troubled thoughts to occupy him?
Wrapping her arms around her knees, she tilted her face down to wipe her tear away with the cloth of her skirt.
She didn’t realize she wasn’t alone until he spoke. “Jo Ellen?”
The voice didn’t sound like his but she knew it was him even before her eyes sprang open and she snapped her he
ad up.
“Cooper! I…I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d come out here. I…” She lurched clumsily to her feet but otherwise didn’t move, could only gawk as he stared mutely at her from his sorrow-filled eyes. “I’m so sorry.”
Should she offer to leave? Hug him? Run like hell? She didn’t know. Dang it, why couldn’t she be sure of something for once in her life?
Without a word, he moved, striding toward her. Her breath caught and she braced herself with no idea if he’d yell at her for trespassing or berate her for…for everything.
She sucked in a breath when he promptly wrapped his arms around her and yanked her against his chest for a hard, encompassing hug.
“Thank you for coming,” he rasped hoarsely into her hair.
Instantly, she melted, relief and love flowing from her as she hugged him back. “Oh, Cooper. Of course I came.”
“I need you. You have no idea how I need you.” He pressed his face into her neck and sniffed, his fingers digging into her shirt.
Heart breaking, she rubbed her hands up and down his spine. “Darling. I’m here. It’s okay.”
She pulled back to wipe his wet face but found it dry. He gritted his teeth as he stared at her. Her own eyes went moist when she discovered he couldn’t cry. Watching the first tear slide down her cheek, he groaned deep in his throat and tipped his chin down to press his mouth to hers.
She kissed him back, ready to give him whatever he needed, all the while greedily taking what she needed in return. She’d missed him so much. Nothing had been as miserable in her life as being away these past few weeks.
He tasted of desperation and misery. He wasn’t rough as he clutched her harder and kissed her deeper, his fervor growing with each passing moment. But he was certainly more aggressive than ever before as he caught her waist and tugged them flush together, his hands immediately finding their way under her blouse and trimming the soft skin around her waist.
His breathing grew shallow, harried. She found it also rather difficult to draw in air as he swept her into his desire. She knew she probably shouldn’t be aroused; the man was having a mini-breakdown. But it arrived in such epically seductive proportions that heat flooded her.
“Cooper,” she moaned as he cupped her face.
Without speaking, he nudged her down into the grass then all the way onto her back. She went eagerly, letting him do what he needed to do. Planting one hand near to her face, he kissed her again, drinking heavily from her lips as if she were the only oasis in a desert.
It consumed her. She didn’t feel ready for the intensity of it. He held himself up and off her so she couldn’t wrap her arms around him and sink into his warmth and couldn’t hold him close. Their sealed mouths were the only place they connected, and yet it bound them more intimately together than anything she’d ever experienced with him.
Stripped down to his basic, most primitive form, Cooper Gerhardt branded her as his; his mate, his partner, his woman.
Rejoicing in his possession and accepting his physical stamp, she threw her head back and arched out her chest as he kissed his way down her jaw and throat.
He growled his arousal and clenched his teeth as he finally lifted his face long enough to look her in the eye. She’d never actually watched him lose his center before, never seen his gaze go unfocused and clouded with desire. But she did now and was awed. His jaw popped, stretching taut in harmony with the ripples of his muscles as he pressed his hips down and ground against her through their clothes.
She keened out a sharp cry and dug her fingernails deep into his taut shoulders. His features were savage, primal, as if he were overcome by some madness. It scared her, so when he began to rip her shirt off, she panicked.
“No. Stop. Wait, I—”
She grappled with him, trying to shove her shirt down as he tried to tug it up.
“Cooper!” she cried, finally reaching him. He froze, blinking rapidly as if coming out of a stupor.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his face turning scarlet as if he’d been holding his breath for a minute. “My God, I…”
“Shh.” She reached up and drew him down to her. Clenching his eyes shut, he resisted, then gave in and sank on top of her, covering her in the grass. His muscles remained tight and restrained and he held his weight off her. But she was having none of it.
“It’s okay to mourn,” she told him.
If anything, he only drew himself up tauter. She’d never seen anyone in such a dark place before. It broke her heart to watch him suffer like this. But sensing only she could draw him back to the light, she gently stoked his hair and kissed his ear.
“It’s okay,” she repeated.
Letting out a growl, he fisted his hand and punched the ground beside them. The earth vibrated under her.
She jumped but didn’t let go of him. Couldn’t. Tightening her grip, she held him closer and pressed her cheek to the side of his face as he kept it stiffly turned away from her.
“It’s okay.” She didn’t know what else to say, so she kept with that. Sniffing when her own tears got the better of her, she rasped, “It’s okay, Cooper. Just let it out.”
“Damn it,” the words grated from him. “Damn it.” He hit the ground one more time, then shuddered out a breath and turned his face into her; still bright red, his cheeks now held moisture and sorrow.
“Oh, Cooper.” She gently kissed his cheek, her lips soaking up his tears. He gripped her shoulders and buried his face in the curve of her neck, weeping with great, heaving sobs. She wasn’t sure how long he cried, but it seemed to last forever, tearing at her soul until she wept just as hard as he did.
When he settled, Cooper dropped limply on top of her, where he placed a single, grateful kiss just below her ear. “Thank you.”
She sighed, pacified, and rubbed his back. He said nothing else, so she kept quiet too. This was what he needed. Physical touch to prove his heart still beat in his chest. She understood that, but she couldn’t help but hope for more, hope this meant the rekindling of their relationship.
She knew the moment he dropped off to sleep. His large body went slack and his breathing evened. Sensing he’d found a peaceful rest, she smiled, closed her eyes, drifting off with him.
They couldn’t have napped over an hour in the shade of the pecan grove. The shadows had barely shifted when she opened her eyes again. But it must’ve been enough recuperation for Cooper. Silently, he crawled off her and sat up. Stretching her kinked vertebrae, she blinked him into focus and watched him shakily jerk his hand through his wild hair. He didn’t look her way as he remained sitting on the grass next to her, but he buried his face in his hands as if ashamed.
Swallowing, she smoothed her wrinkled skirt over her knees and patted her clothes back into order.
Finally, he darted a glance in her direction. “I didn’t mean to scare you,” he rumbled out the hoarse apology. “I would never force—”
“You didn’t. Don’t worry about it.”
His gaze traveled up to her face. He studied her warily from bloodshot eyes and opened his mouth but caught sight of something on her elbow. Grasping her arm, he twisted it lightly to examine dried blood smeared across a scrape she’d gotten in the hard, dying grass.
“Oh God.” His hoarse voice rasped through her. “I hurt you.”
“No. Oh, darling, no.” She tugged her arm free. “I’m fine.” After ducking the abrasion out of his sight, she smiled at him in reassurance.
But he stiffened, shook his head, and ran a hand through his hair, looking defeated. “I shouldn’t have been so rough. I shouldn’t have—”
“Hey,” she whispered, reaching out to cup his face in both hands. “You didn’t hurt me. Honest.”
He closed his eyes and tears dribbled from between his fused lashes. She wiped them away with her thumbs and kissed his mouth. “I just want to be here for you.”
“You are.”
She pressed her forehead to his. When he wrapped an arm around her, a tremb
le worked through him, echoing into her. She squeezed her eyes closed and pressed her lips together. It hurt to see him this way; he looked…damaged.
“God, Cooper. This is all just so strange. I can’t believe he’s really gone.”
Tears fell thicker as he opened his eyes. “I can’t either. Mama visited him earlier that very day and nothing seemed wrong. She said he’d been having a little bladder problem is all. Looking back, I think that was a clue his kidneys were already failing. If he’d been having any chest pains, no one could’ve known; he certainly couldn’t tell anyone. They found him collapsed in the middle of a hall he’d been walking, but the stroke had already taken him. It…”
His voice broke and he bowed his head. Jo Ellen gathered him close once more. Tilting his chin down, he rested a cheek on her chest, directly over her heartbeat.
“Thank you.” He sniffed and tightened his grip, bunching her blouse at the base of her spine with his fists. His tears began to seep through her shirt, dampening her skin. “Thank you for being here, for being solid and real, and…”
When he gave up on talking, she patted his hair helplessly.
“Nothing’s the same anymore,” he rasped. “I feel…I feel so empty; so guilty. I just wanted his misery to stop; he would’ve hated what he’d become. Yet now that he’s gone, I think I must be the biggest shithead on earth for wishing him dead.”
“Oh, Cooper, no. You are not. You didn’t wish him dead. You only wanted his suffering gone.” She buried her fingers in his locks, sifting through the golden strands. “It was his time; he was going to go no matter what you wished anyway.”
“I just want him back, Jo Ellen. I want the dad I remember before this stupid Dementia infected him.”
“I know.”
“Both my sisters are mad at me,” he added, his agony straying to different ground. “I told Brendel’s seven-year-old grandson that Dad was in heaven now. I had no idea no one had told him yet. I guess he’d been going through grief counseling since losing a dog, so they only told him Poppa Thad had gone on vacation. When he burst into tears, Brendel exploded on me, and now I’m evil Uncle Coop who took Poppa Thad away.”