by D'Ann Lindun
“Yeah,” Cooper said. “Henry’s hair faded, but he said he had a real bright red color when he was young.”
Strangely touched by family history, Elizabeth gently replaced the image. A lump filled her throat. “I wonder if there’s a picture of my mom in here somewhere? I’ll look some other time.”
“Does anything in this box seem off to you?” Sabrina looked to Cooper.
For a moment he didn’t answer. When he looked up, his eyes glazed over, his skin gray. He looked ill.
“What wrong?” Elizabeth stepped toward him, concerned.
Cooper shook his head, mute. In his hands, he held open another album. Taking it from him, she examined the photo he had been staring at. Cooper stood next to Henry Harper, his arm slung around the older man’s shoulders. Apparently at a barbeque or cookout of some kind, both men held plates of food. Turning it over, she saw it was dated the Fourth of July from the previous summer. About a month before the date of Henry’s death. “I talked him into going.”
“Oh,” she whispered.
“Find something interesting?” Sabrina asked.
“No.” Elizabeth stuffed the photo back in the book without looking at Cooper. “You?”
Sabrina dropped her book and dusted her hands. “Nope. Just a lot of junk. I’m surprised your mom didn’t just trash it.”
Curious, Elizabeth moved to see what Sabrina found. She had pulled a pile of twisted thread and yarn and half-finished cross-stitch projects out of a box. Knitting needles and embroidery hoops were caught in the mess. “It does seem odd Mom didn’t just throw this in the burn barrel out back. I think it needs to be junked. I wonder where Uncle Henry and Aunt Bea kept their important paperwork?” Elizabeth stood with hands on hips. “Those documents don’t seem to be here anywhere. Do you know, Cooper?”
He shrugged. “If I had to wager a guess, I’d say he kept them in that desk over there in the bottom drawer.”
Together, the three of them went to the ugly, metal desk in the corner. Elizabeth opened the drawers while the others watched. Apparently, Lillian had already gone through the center drawer, as it was empty. The next two down on each side held stacks of receipts, a checkbook and four large, leather-bound ledgers. Elizabeth picked one up. “What are these?”
Cooper took one and examined it. “These are Henry’s cattle journals. I keep one very similar. Records are here of the herd, everything from how much hay is baled to which cow didn’t produce a calf in a given year.”
“I see,” Elizabeth said.
Sabrina, looking over Cooper’s shoulder, said, “Henry kept detailed records.”
“He did,” Cooper agreed.
“Here’s the last entry.” Sabrina pointed it out. She glanced at Cooper, then continued, “In the middle of August, right before he died, Henry noted two different breaks in his north fence. See? He fixed one on the tenth, then another on the sixteenth. He says that fourteen pairs escaped the first time, ten the second. He put them back both times.”
“What’s your point?”
She shrugged. “Just thinking out loud. Don’t you find it odd that there’s no property deed here? We know Elizabeth’s mother had it in her possession because Henry’s attorney in Montrose told us so. Look,” she picked up a folder. “Here’s the property tax receipt, water rights, the cancelled check, see what I mean? This is the logical place for the property deed. It’s not here. We know it’s not in Lillian’s things. So where is it? And why is it missing?”
“Maybe on file at the courthouse?”
“Possibly.” Sabrina pulled on her coat and went toward the door. “I’ll go check it out. When I know something, I’ll call you.”
“Wait,” Elizabeth called weakly, but it was too late. Sabrina had already left. Being left alone with Cooper was the last thing she wanted.
“Coffee smells good,” he hinted.
Surprise filled her. She figured he meant to run away the minute Sabrina left them alone. “Would you like a cup?”
“Sounds good. I’ll light the fireplace.”
Elizabeth wondered what he wanted now. With shaking hands, she poured two cups of hot coffee, hoping it was dark enough for his taste. Back in the living room, he had a fire going. In spite of the heat it threw, she shivered. Thrusting the cup at him, she said, “Here.”
“Thanks.” He took a sip.
She perched on the couch and wrapped her hands around her own mug. Her throat felt tight, so narrow she couldn’t swallow. Or speak. Warily, she watched Cooper as he sat on the edge of the fireplace, his back to the flames. Dark circles lined his eyes, and the sharp planes of his face were more pronounced than usual. He was tired. I’m the reason he’s worn out. Because we made love half the night.
A flame so hot it almost made her gasp out loud flared deep in her belly. Another ache, one to have him again, settled a bit lower. Would anything short of four straight days spent in bed with him would make it go away?
“You okay?”
“Sure.” She tried for nonchalant, wondering if he could tell she wanted him naked. And inside her.
“I need to explain … ”
“About what?” she interrupted, again telling herself to be nonchalant. After all, she was a California girl. Everyone knew they were casual about sex. He expected a strings-free tumble. It wouldn’t do to let him know how much last night meant to her. She could pretend to be blasé. If she tried hard enough.
“I want you to understand, Elizabeth.”
“I comprehend perfectly. Really, there’s no need for this.” Oh, she was good. Maybe she should audition for the next Kevin Costner western. Now that she had experience with a real-life cowboy, she had the part down pat.
“I don’t think you do.” Cooper shifted uncomfortably. “I want you to know that what happened last night wasn’t just … a physical thing.”
Elizabeth arched her brows at him. “Oh? If I remember correctly, you said you didn’t want a relationship before you tore out of here.”
“It’s not like that.”
“Then what’s it like? Because I don’t understand your rules.” Elizabeth snapped her mouth shut. Men, especially cowboys, weren’t into whiny, needy women. Hell, even in-touch-with-their-feelings Californians didn’t like that. She was starting to sound like her universe would quit moving if he didn’t want her. Trouble was, that’s what she feared.
“Dammit,” he ground out, getting to his feet. “Why can’t you see what harm I can do to you? That I don’t want you to get burned?”
Standing, too, Elizabeth said, “I’m willing to risk it.”
“I won’t let you,” he snapped. “There’s things … I can’t talk about. And it’ll drive you away. Just like … ”
“Esperanza? I’m not her.” She took two steps forward until their noses nearly touched. She’d gone this far, she might as well go for it. “So you have secrets. I believe you didn’t kill anyone. Unless you lied, nothing else matters. I’m grown up enough to make up my own mind. I know what the consequences of being with you are, and I’m willing to take the risk.”
“I’m not.” His words hung in the air.
“Then go.” She backed up a step. If he got any closer, he would see her crack.
“I’m not going to let you gamble your life on me,” Cooper said. “Don’t you see what I can cost you? Why can’t you understand I want you to stay away from me, not for my sake, but yours?”
“Because I don’t believe you.” It killed her to say those words out loud. Despair bit into her soul. He was making up excuses so he didn’t have to say he didn’t want her. Because she wasn’t his type. Or that she didn’t fit in his world.
“Believe this.” Cooper drew her into his arms. Before she could speak or protest, his lips covered hers in a desperate kiss. His lips and tongue conveyed what his words had not. Passion flared between them a like firecracker, bright, beautiful, and intensely hot.
Plastering herself against him, Elizabeth reveled in the desire he ignited. Her enti
re body reacted to his touch, aching for him. This cowboy’s his lips were made in Heaven. She wanted nothing more than to be with him.
When he walked away, she nearly wept.
Chapter 13
Almost too depressed to get out of bed, Elizabeth dragged herself up. In the week since Cooper kissed her, she’d driven what seemed like endless miles of highway, searching, but finding nothing. Discouraged at her lack of progress, she decided to try a different tact. She decided riding might be the answer. She called Sabrina to fill her in.
“Are you nuts?” Sabrina threw her hand up. “There are millions of acres out there. I’ll have to search for you next if you go ahead with this plan.”
“I’ll take a map, and follow my own tracks back,” Elizabeth argued.
With a heavy sigh, she said, “Please, Elizabeth, reconsider.”
“I can’t. I’ll call you tonight.”
• • •
No one was around at Cooper’s place. Elizabeth ignored the disappointment in her gut and tacked up Splash. Acting as if he were as impatient to go as she, the gelding pawed the ground. Giving his nose a quick pat, she said, “Just a minute. I need to do something.”
Finding a piece of paper in her pocket, she scribbled a note to Cooper, thanking him for taking care of the gelding. Then she wrote out a generous check, placed it inside the folded paper and slipped them inside the screen door.
After studying a topographical map one last time, Elizabeth rolled it up and gathered her lunch and thermos. Taking Cooper’s advice, she wore a full set of thermal underwear, two pairs of socks, a long down coat, and leather gloves. Her final item was a wool-lined cap she tied under her chin.
From studying the map, Elizabeth knew an old road ran across Cooper’s ranch to the government land beyond. She mounted and quickly left his barnyard. About four inches of snow covered the ground, but the route was distinguishable because of deep ruts.
Cold air bit into her face, and she buried her chin into the warmth of her collar. The rest of her was toasty warm. If she wasn’t so worried, she might really enjoy a ride like this. A few clouds floated across the sky, but none of them looked like they bore snow. Cedar and scrub juniper trees on the lower hills soon gave way to dark green pines. All covered with a dusting of snow. Their spicy scent reminded her that Christmas was just a little over a week away.
She just had to find Mom by then.
The only sound was the plop-plop of Splash’s hooves hitting the soft snow. He didn’t seem to be having any trouble going, and Elizabeth kept her gaze sharp, hunting for any sign of humans. Nothing jumped out at her. If she didn’t know people had built the trail she followed, she would’ve sworn no one had ever been here before. A long stretch of straightaway loomed before her, and Elizabeth urged Splash to canter.
Exhilaration filled her as the gelding stretched out into a gallop. Wind whipped tears from her eyes as they thundered along. No movie star had ever filmed a better scene. Well, maybe John Wayne in True Grit when he guided his horse by putting the reins in his teeth and firing two rifles at a full gallop. That film was hard to beat.
Realizing Splash had a long day ahead, Elizabeth guiltily reined him in. A light sheen of sweat covered his neck. Patting his damp hair, she said, “Sorry, boy. I wasn’t thinking.”
Deciding to stop and take a break for a bit, Elizabeth looked for a likely spot.
A group of clustered cedars looked like a good place to get off and rest. Elizabeth reined Splash that way and dismounted. Tying him to a low-hanging branch, she ran a hand up his neck. He was cool enough to stand for a few minutes. She untied her saddlebags and laid them on a large flat rock.
Seeing an opening through the trees, she wandered that way. Maybe she could find a spot that would allow her to see for a long distance.
After pushing a sticky branch of a cedar out of her way, she paused. She stood on the edge of a canyon that looked as if it hadn’t been visited since the days of early explorers, Escalante and Dominguez. Ragged red cliffs were framed by silver-blue cedar and juniper trees. All was topped by a layer of glittering white snow. Impressed and awed by the sheer size of the countryside, she at first couldn’t take it in. Her gaze roamed, seeing nothing unusual.
She took a step forward. By the time she understood the outcrop she stood on had broken away, she was already falling. A scream ripped out of her, shattering the clear mountain air, as her arms and legs spun like a pinwheel.
• • •
Cooper drove into his driveway and saw the folded paper in his front door. With a reluctant heart, he went to see what it said. Inside was a check. Without looking at the amount, he tore it into and let the pieces drift to the ground. Quickly, he scanned the paper. Elizabeth had been there and picked up Splash. She planned to search the woods for her mother.
The words blurred, faded.
He hadn’t seen or spoken to Elizabeth in a week. Trying to stay busy by checking his cows every day, he told himself it didn’t matter where she was or what she was doing. Why did he feel so damn lonely?
Both sorry and relieved he hadn’t been home when she had come by, he went inside. The house felt like an igloo. Automatically, he built a fire and put on a pot of coffee. The beans he’d put in the crockpot that morning smelled good, and he filled a plate, grabbing a slice of cold cornbread from the fridge to go with them.
Settling himself in front of the fireplace, he wondered how the search for Lillian was going, and if Elizabeth had had any luck finding her. He tamped down the longing to go and see for himself. It was better this way, he reminded himself for what seemed like the billionth time. He ate, but didn’t taste a thing. Mischief lay on his feet, occasionally checking to see if he had any scraps for her.
This was his life, the way he liked it. There wasn’t any room for a woman who wouldn’t let his past rest in peace. Telling himself he didn’t care, he rose and went for another cup of coffee and a slice of cold apple pie.
Yeah, he was content the way things were.
• • •
Cooper sat on a bluff overlooking the west end road, cussing his own foolishness. He hadn’t been able to get Elizabeth off his mind, so he’d saddled his sorrel and followed Elizabeth’s tracks. The road was rarely used, and it didn’t go anywhere important. He wondered what had made Elizabeth choose it.
The paint’s tracks went clearly up the middle of the road. After a mile or so, the marks suddenly veered off into the trees. The sorrel neighed, the other horse answered. Weaving his way through the tree trunks, Cooper found Elizabeth’s paint tied to a branch, but she wasn’t anywhere in sight.
He spotted saddlebags on a boulder. Figuring Elizabeth had taken a short jaunt to answer a call of nature, Cooper didn’t worry when she didn’t appear in a minute. He tied his horse, then settled himself on the rock and poured a cup of coffee out of a thermos. Just as his hand raised the cup to his lips, a bloodcurdling scream tore through the silence. Dropping the cup, he jumped and ran toward the sound.
When he saw the broken edge of the cliff, his heart stopped. Almost afraid to look at the canyon floor, he stepped forward gingerly. A large piece of icy snow under one foot broke free and fell into space. Cooper jumped back to safety.
Dropping to his stomach, he wiggled carefully out onto the unstable area and surveyed things.
Lying on the ground a few yards below was the still form of Elizabeth. “Oh hell.”
He had to get down there. Although steep, the canyon walls weren’t sheer. A horse probably couldn’t make it down without falling, but a man could, if he was very careful. A few feet away was a natural break in the land. A place where the spring runoff had gouged out a crevice that looked a bit safer to navigate. Edging toward it, he turned over on his butt. And began to slide.
• • •
Elizabeth moaned and fought to stay asleep.
Darn, this bed was lumpy. Cold, too. She couldn’t get comfortable. Aggravated she couldn’t find any covers, she opened her eyes. She blin
ked against the bright sun. Morning already. Why was she so tired? Where was she? Certainly not in her bed at home. The bed she’d been using in Henry’s house? No, that wasn’t right. Not even it was this uncomfortable. Cooper’s bed maybe? Unfortunately, not there either.
Slowly, the realization she wasn’t in any familiar bed seeped into her fogged senses. She was lying in a heap of snow. Cold snow. How had she gotten here, and why? However it had happened, she needed to get up or freeze.
Experimentally, she moved her fingers. They worked. Then her arms. Fortunately, they responded as she asked. Then her legs, feet and toes. All were in working order. Carefully, she pushed to a sitting position. Her head swam, and she rested it between her knees, breathing carefully.
A noise caught her attention, and without raising her face, she looked out of the corner of her eye. Cooper stumbled toward her, moving awkwardly through knee-deep snow. Thinking she was delusional, Elizabeth kept her nose pressed against her knees and squeezed her eyes shut. Wishful thinking. There was no reason for Cooper to be here. He had made it plain he didn’t want her or to be involved in her problems.
“Elizabeth?”
She must’ve hit her head harder than she thought, she was hearing voices. Opening one eye, she saw Cooper’s worried face. Well, half of it.
He touched her shoulder gently. “Are you all right?”
Forcing the other eye to open, she saw he was real, right in front of her. “I think so. Unless I’m dead, or this is a dream.”
“You’re not dead.” His mouth quirked a little. “Although I wasn’t sure there for a second.”
She waved a hand in front of her face. She counted five fingers. “I wasn’t certain myself.”
He ran his hands up and down her arms and legs. “What hurts?”
“Well, my head’s been better.” She winced when she touched it, but her fingers didn’t have blood on them when she pulled them away.
“We’ve got to get you out of the cold.” He looked around. “If you think you can move, there’s a cabin around that bend. We’ll go there and warm up.”