Cowboy Boone (Cooper's Hawke Landing Book 4)

by Rhonda Lee Carver

  Near the end of Corbin’s life he’d let things go. Lost his business footing and they’d been a thread away from bankruptcy. Aging had clutched him in a powerful grip. His mind had started fading faster than his body…

  When Cade and Coop had approached him about taking things over, there’d been a struggle. Their grandfather had broken down and said some hurtful things regarding why their father, Charlie, had abandoned them. Something about an affair and a bag of lazy bones.

  Oh well. Spilled milk and all…Nudging Lucy, he led her to the stables and removed the saddle, brushed her and put her in the last stall, sneaking her another slice of apple. “You miss him too, don’t you, girl?”

  She clawed the floor.

  Leaving the barn, he made his way through the dark for the house that now had no lights on inside. Everyone must have turned in. His boots sounded loud on the polished staircase as he ascended to his bedroom. Thankfully, he had his own space after they’d built on. For years, he and a few of his brothers had shared a bedroom and about killed each other over stupid territorial crap. Good thing Channing and Cross could wield a hammer and nail better than anyone Coop knew, because they’d turned the house into a place where they didn’t have to look at each other all the time.

  Toeing off his boots, he left them on the floor near the bed and plopped down in the center of the mattress, staring up at the swirls in the ceiling. Damn, he was tired. Not with a sense of fatigue that came with a day’s hard work, but one of sadness, and a bit of loneliness.

  Reaching for the baseball next to his pillow, he tossed it up and caught it, releasing some of the tension in his body.

  Although nothing could have been done about Cade’s leukemia because they’d exhausted all medical avenues, Coop still carried around a bit of guilt. A survivor always tended to feel guilty.

  Throwing the ball aside, he rolled over and grabbed his pillow to lay his head on. Not even bothering to undress, he closed his eyes, letting much needed sleep ease over him.

  *****

  Have I lost my mind?

  What am I doing here?

  I need answers. For my child.

  Melanie drove into Dove Grey and squeezed the steering wheel until her knuckles ached. Steven thought she was crazy when she told him her plans, but sometimes a woman had to do what she needed to.

  Finding Cade Dawson hadn’t been hard. As a writer, she’d become a pro at researching and a little Google search turned up an address. Although foolish to many people, she packed a bag and drove to the small town only a few hours away.

  The GPS led her to the B&B where she’d reserved a room for a few days just in case. The owner, Kate Whistle, had seemed friendly and energetic. She’d raved about the quaint shops and sightseeing opportunities in the area, but Melanie’s plans for the evening were to crawl between the sheets and sleep.

  Whistle B&B was located on a street along with a handful of other charming historical Victorian style houses. Parking in front of the beautiful large house painted light green with red trim and a deep covered porch adorned with arched walkways, she admired the unique design. The place reminded her of a doll house she had as a kid.

  Grabbing her overnight bag from the trunk of her BMW, she pulled it up the cobblestone walkway festooned with overflowing, robust flowerbeds. A sign on the door read, “Come on in.” Melanie did just that and was met with a pleasing scent of sugar cookies that made her stomach growl. She’d eaten a few bites of a cardboard sandwich some thirty miles back at a dinky gas station.

  “Hello!” a sing-song voice sounded as a swinging door opened and in swept a petite woman with short curly hair and ruddy cheeks. She wiped her hands off on her pristine white apron. “You must be Melanie Jane. I’m Kate Whistle. Welcome.”

  Melanie offered the upbeat woman a smile. “I’m sorry that I’m coming in later than expected.”

  “No problem. You’re the only guest this evening. Your room is prepared and I upgraded you to our best.”

  “Thank you, but that wasn’t necessary.”

  “Of course it was. Only the best for my new favorite author. Just as soon as we hung up the phone yesterday, I bought one of your books and couldn’t put it down. I stayed up all night reading Mimi’s story. I need to know, will there be a second book about her dangerous fetishes?”

  Hearing a reader’s admiration never grew old. “There just might be.”

  “Okay. No shoptalk. You’re here to relax. I can make you a snack if you’d like.” She fluffed her hair.

  Melanie started to answer “no” wanting only to crawl into bed but feeling a hunger pain she decided to accept the offer. If the food tasted anything like it smelled inside the house, she wouldn’t be disappointed.

  Kate led the way upstairs and into the room aptly named ‘Rose Garden’. The walls were a pale pink with a tiny rose imprint and matching furniture, bed spread on the king sized white four poster bed. A vase of fresh roses sat atop the antique dresser and a toasty fire crackled in the stone fireplace.

  “I can put out the fire if you’d like but we’ve had a few chilly evenings this week.” Kate lingered, waiting for Melanie’s approval.

  “The room is beautiful, and the fire is wonderful.” She placed her bag next to the bed.

  “Great. I’m so glad. I’ll be back in a jiffy with that tray.” Kate hustled out of the room with the energy of a bee buzzing around a flower.

  Melanie stepped over to the window and pulled back the sheer curtain. The street was quiet, unlike the hustle and bustle of the city that she’d grown accustomed to.

  In the bathroom she splashed her face with cool water and dried it on a soft, nice smelling towel when she heard a soft knock on the door. “Come in.”

  In the same fast-paced fashion, Kate brought the tray in and set it on an antique round table.

  “That was fast,” Melanie said.

  “Since you’re the only guest I can pamper you. Tomorrow I have the wedding suite booked, but the couple won’t be here long. They’re off to Bora Bora for their honeymoon and then it’ll be quiet again.” Something akin to sadness entered her grey eyes but she blinked and the emotion disappeared. “How was the drive? From San Antonio, right?”

  “Yes. Tiring. I’ll be hitting the sack after I eat.” The sandwiches were cut into cute triangles with the crust taken off, a beautiful display of fruit in a crystal bowl, and a cookie that must have been the culprit of the mouthwatering smell downstairs. “This all looks delicious.”

  “It’s nothing really.” Kate clasped her hands together. “I won’t keep you a second longer. When you’re finished just place the tray and dishes outside the door. You have a wonderful evening.” She bustled away as quickly as she’d come.

  Alone, Melanie sat down in the comfortable high-backed chair and nibbled at the cucumber sandwiches that were surprisingly delicious. She saved the cookie for tomorrow. She might need the sugar to help build up the bravery to face Cade Dawson.

  CHAPTER THREE

  THE SIX DAWSON brothers barely fit in the pew inside the tiny church. Coop elbowed and shoved his way onto the end spot. “Scoot over, dumbass,” he said to Carter.

  “We’re in a church, stupid. You’re not supposed to curse,” Blue said from where he sat squished between Cross and Channing.

  Coop skimmed his gaze down the brawny row of Dawson lineage. “There wouldn’t be a problem if you fellows would move down.” He frowned. At six foot three, and two hundred pounds, and his brothers all nearly the same size, they were crammed in the pew like a clown car. Why would anyone seat the brothers together? Scanning the congregation, every other seat was taken which explained it.

  “How the hell are we supposed to sit here for thirty minutes?” Coop rubbed his forehead. He knew he should have feigned sick.

  “Coop Dawson, simmer down.” Aunt Gladys turned around from the pew in front of them, landing her stink eye directly on him before sweeping it down the line of the other cowboys who obediently clammed up. “Have some respe
ct for Maya. This is her wedding day. It won’t hurt you to sit there quietly.”

  Coop gave his mom’s sister a thumbs up. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Couldn’t you fellows have found the time in your schedule to shave?” Gladys wrinkled her nose and shook her head in disappointment. “A hair cut would have been nice too.”

  “No, ma’am,” Coop answered for them.

  The second she turned around, he scowled. He was a bit antsy. He hadn’t been to church since last year when he’d knelt at the alter begging and pleading for Cade’s life to be spared, little good that did because he died two days later. Coop got the whole concept of the balance between good and bad, but he was still angry. Cade had a lot of life left in him and too young to meet his maker.

  Chuckles coming from down the pew pulled Coop back on track. “You boys better stop. You’re about to get slapped with some gator.” He referred to the alligator skin purse Gladys brought back with her from Florida ten years ago and still carried it proudly.

  Carter snickered.

  “I’m not getting my hair cut,” Cross whispered.

  “I sure as heck ain’t shaving,” Wales added.

  The cowboys all had black hair, except for Carter who had a red tinge to his locks and whiskers. They were all the spitting image of their Ma’s brother, Cleat, who’d taught them everything they knew about causing trouble. He’d been more like a brother than uncle.

  “Do you have to take up so much space?” Carter mumbled. “I feel like I’m a tube of toothpaste.”

  Coop jerked up an eyebrow. “And you’re telling me? My balls are squished.”

  Channing laughed but a quick disapproving look from Gladys sobered him.

  “Where’s Ma?” Coop scanned the crowd. “She left the house hours ago.”

  “Probably sitting as far away from us as she can get.” Blue chuckled.

  “Your mother had some last-minute preparations to finish for the reception,” Gladys piped in.

  Coop didn’t like the fact that Ma had agreed to cater the wedding party. She worked too much and she deserved to be here enjoying her niece’s wedding.

  “Are you sure you want to be here, Coop? Some of that wedding bliss might rub off on you,” Carter joked, causing all the brothers to guffaw. “Don’t worry though, you’re safe. No woman in her right mind would want to marry you.”

  Coop slammed them each with a death glare. Eight years older than Carter, Coop was used to being the target of the relationship status jokes. “Yeah, I don’t see rings on any of your fingers.”

  The reprimand seemed to shut them up, for at least a few minutes. His brothers were pains in the ass, like a thorn he couldn’t extract, but they were his kin and they loved each other. He’d go to bat for any of them and he knew they’d do the same.

  “What are you doing after this?” Blue whispered.

  “A couple of beers and a juicy steak fresh off the grill at Corby Q’s sounds good.” Channing rubbed his stomach. “Can’t wait to sink my teeth into some meat.”

  “There’s a live band there this evening too. You know what that means.” Cross wagged his thick brows. “Girls, girls, girls,” he sang the last part in falsetto.

  “You have too much time on your hands,” Coop said. “Once we get the rodeo event established, we’ll be busy and you’ll have to put your boot scootin’ moves away and stay focused.”

  “Focused? It’s not me you should be talking to. Channing is like a blind puppy searching for his mom’s teat.” Offended, Channing punched Cross’s thigh. “Ouch, ass—” The remaining words were swallowed. Standing at the end of the pew was Candy Dawson, matriarch of the family, who frowned like she wanted to drag Cross and Channing out of the church by their ears. It wouldn’t be anything new.

  She could cut them straight with one look.

  “Hi, Ma,” they said in unison.

  “Boys, you’re too old to still be acting like teens.” She shook her head and slid into the spot next to Gladys.

  The cue for music was given and the pianist sat down to play. Coop turned his attention to the back of the church, expecting to see marching bridesmaids. Instead it was Maya’s best friend hurrying up the aisle wearing a disturbed expression. Whatever she whispered to Gladys sent the seasoned woman shooting up out of the pew and jetting through a side door.

  “Something’s up.” Coop thrummed his fingers over his denim clad thigh.

  A whispered hush sounded from the guests in attendance.

  “Maybe Maya changed her mind?” Blue said.

  “That’d be the best decision she could ever make,” Coop said not caring if anyone overheard.

  “You’re just against matrimony, bro.” Channing chuckled.

  Coop didn’t despise the idea of marriage, but after their dad got a hair up his ass and left his family, Coop had decided that the flawed gene must float somewhere in his DNA and he didn’t want to be responsible for hurting anyone. He’d watched Ma slip into depression for almost six months because her husband disappeared. One day Coop came home from school to find her frying up her best dishes and baking to-die-for confections. On a whim, she’d decided to start a catering business that took off like a kite in the blustery wind.

  To make a long story short regarding relationships, Coop was fine with being single.

  Gladys came back, her gator bag clutched close to her bosom and her white pleather shoes squeaking. She said something to Pastor Hendricks who then stepped up to the podium looking a little pale.

  “Thank you all for coming, but unfortunately, we won’t be having a wedding this evening. Again, thank you.”

  “What the hell?” Coop muttered.

  “Let’s go get a steak.” Blue rubbed his hands together.

  “Hell yeah! Pass up BBQ? Never,” Wales chimed.

  The cowboys scurried out of the seat.

  Coop caught the eye of Maggie March through the maze of guests who were quickly making their way onto the sidewalk in the heated evening sun. He felt his gut clench when he saw her frown. He hadn’t talked to her in a month and today wasn’t the day to change that. He hurried ahead, but then he heard…

  “Coop Dawson! Are you trying to slip away without saying hello?”

  Damn, how had she caught up to him so fast?

  Pushing the brim of his hat further up on his forehead, he stopped and offered her a grin. A sweet smile cured her pretty, pink lips but didn’t quite reach her lavender eyes. She looked beautiful in a tight-fitting short dress that did wonders for her thick curves. He felt a stirring behind his zipper that was squashed just as fast. They’d tried the dating thing once, twice, even three times, but it never grew wings. “Now why would I do a thing like that, Mags.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because I called you a selfish bastard the last time I saw you.” One thin brow popped up.

  “Yeah…about that…” His boots suddenly became too tight.

  “Don’t worry, Coop. I won’t bust your balls, at least not too much.” He respected that she never minced her words. “I think we both know whatever we had has fizzled, but I guess I just needed to say the words aloud. And to apologize. You’re not selfish or a bastard, just a cowboy who runs at the first sniff of commitment. You’re just not relationship material.”

  “Thank you. I think.” He liked her, a lot. He wanted the best for her and he was far from it. “You deserve better.”

  “Yeah, I do.” She grinned and threaded her slender fingers through her mass of dark waves, giving it a shake. “No hard feelings. See you around.” She winked and disappeared into the crowd.

  Feeling like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, he strolled toward his truck parked on the street. Climbing behind the wheel, he drove over to Corby Q’s where a crowd had already started gathering. The band was setting up on stage and tuning their guitars when he strolled in, greeting others with a dip of his Stetson. His brothers had beat him there and they’d already grabbed a corner table. Their loud banter filled the room.
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br />   “Can you boys get any louder?” Coop took the seat between Blue and Channing then poured a frosted glass full of beer from the pitcher.

  “I already ordered steaks for all,” Carter said.

  “You got caught by Mags.” Blue examined Coop. “I don’t see any cuts, so she must have let you survive.”

  “We’re adults.” Coop shrugged. “It’s not like we were ever in a serious relationship.”

  “Really? Have you ever thought that your idea of a relationship might not be a woman’s description?”

  Opening his mouth to respond, he slammed it shut when the waitress brought their platters. He wasted no time cutting into the thick steak, savoring the garlic butter and pepper flavors. He’d plowed through his food, swallowed most of his beer and then settled his attention on a group of women sitting two tables over. A blonde with bright blue eyes and an enchanting smile gave him a seductive wave and he dipped his hat in greeting.

  He shifted and turned away.

  “You kidding me?” Channing shook his head. “She’s into you, bro.”

  “I’m not feeling it.” Hell, he guessed he deserved his brother’s curious glare. Coop wasn’t sure what was wrong with him lately. There was a void in him that ran deep, maybe stemming from Cade’s death. Maybe he was only tired of…what?

  Easing his gaze over the crowd, he saw a lot of familiar faces. Men and women he’d known all his life. Nothing new…until he stumbled upon a brunette sitting at the bar. Her shiny hair cascaded in a blanket of waves to her jeaned bottom that slightly raised off the stool as she stretched to say something to the bartender. Hershel was all smiles underneath his shaggy silver beard. Old coot never stopped flirting.

  Who was the woman?

  Her can of Coke was poured into a plastic cup of ice and topped off with cherries that matched the color of Hershel’s cheeks as he passed the drink to her. The fifty-something man seemed a bit sweet on her. Coop turned his attention away but was drawn back just as the mysterious woman swiveled on the stool to watch the band. The neon signs cast a red glow over her features, making her eyes appear almost as black as her hair. She wrapped her plump lips around a cherry as she bit the fruit off the stem.