The Perfect Homecoming (Pine River)

by London, Julia

  Emma Tyler was more intriguing than any woman he’d met in a very long while. He rubbed his scalp. He didn’t have the time or the energy for this! He was too old for games. He was way past the point in his life that he would be strung along in ways and for reasons he didn’t understand.

  Yeah, he’d get out of the mountains before it snowed again, and head back to LA.

  Cooper lay down, pulled the quilt over his chest. But his sleep was even more fitful than before.

  He was dressed and ready to go when Luke came downstairs. Cooper was anxious to get off this mountain. He wanted the sunshine of LA, the predictability of women there. He wanted to see Braden and Brodie and give them the kiddie sombreros he’d picked up at Tag’s Outfitters.

  Cooper told Luke on the slow drive down the mountain that he was heading out after their ski date. Luke had looked at him strangely, apparently waiting for Cooper to say something more, perhaps about the thing he’d come to get from Emma. But Cooper didn’t mention it, and Luke apparently knew not to ask.

  Luke dropped him off at the Grizzly. Cooper grabbed a bear claw pastry and coffee from the Grizzly Café, then went up to the Beaver Room and called his mother. “Hi, Mom,” he said through a yawn.

  “Coop, honey, I’m so glad you called,” she said. “Derek called this morning. He said he’s due to be released on the twenty-third to a halfway house, and then three months after that, he can come home! After all this time, I’m going to get him back!”

  Cooper resisted the urge to rain on her parade. God knew his mom had long been the stalwart, making the twelve-hour round-trip between the oil fields of West Texas to the penitentiary near Houston to see Derek four times a year. She’d watched the prison tattoos bloom on Derek’s arms, had watched the lines in his face deepen, the features harden, and still, she had that mother’s eagerness to have her boy home.

  Cooper’s mother was not the least bit prepared for the kind of man who was coming back to her, and coming back only because he had no other place to go.

  “Aren’t you excited?” she asked.

  “It’s great, Mom.”

  “We can spend Christmas with him,” she said, her voice bubbling with an enthusiasm he’d not heard for Christmas in years. “You’re coming home for that, aren’t you? You have to, Coop. This will be our first time together in years.”

  “Of course,” he said. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

  But he was filled with dread. Derek wasn’t the fun-loving older brother Cooper’s dusty memory could conjure up on occasion. When Cooper thought back to their life, he could honestly believe that Derek had tried to be something other than a thug and a thief. But there was something in Derek, a compulsion he could not overcome to get high and push the limits of the law.

  Cooper promised his mom again he’d be home in time, then hung up. His next call was to Carl Freeman.

  “It’s Cooper,” he said when Carl answered.

  “I was about to send a posse after you,” Carl said. “What news do you have for me?”

  “I have it,” Cooper said, and balanced the phone between his ear and shoulder as he opened the box.

  “No shit!” Carl said happily, and then laughed loud and long. “Boo-yah!” he shouted. “She’s got that gleam in her eye, Coop. She thinks she’s getting the whole thing. Just wait till I show up with that fucking box.”

  “I’m looking at it right now,” Cooper said. “Red-and-silver ribbon with an eagle in the middle.” He pulled at the little tab of the velvet shelf the medal sat on and lifted it up, expecting to see a diamond ring beneath it.

  There was no ring. No ring. Cooper put the medal aside and felt inside the box for a false bottom, and when he found none, his heart sank. She hadn’t. She couldn’t have. Emma, no.

  “ . . . stupid shit.”

  “What?” Cooper hadn’t heard anything that Carl had just said.

  “I said, it’s not red and silver with a big eagle! It’s a star, a fucking star! And it has blue ribbons! What the hell, Coop? What medal are you looking at? What’d she do, go and buy one at the drug store? I can not believe this! Do you even get what I’m trying to do here? What’s at stake for me? You tell that bitch if she doesn’t hand over what’s mine today, I’m filing charges!”

  As Carl continued to rant, Cooper stared down at the medal. Nothing made sense. Emma had given him the medal. She’d made a big show of it, handing it over, asking him to leave. Why in hell would she give him a fake one? She had to know that he’d figure it out very quickly, that he’d be back. And where had she gotten another one, anyway?

  He looked closer at the medal. It didn’t look fake. Cooper was no expert, but this one looked like a very real military medal. Could she have taken it from the ranch? There were vets out there, so it was possible. No, no, he couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t believe Emma Tyler would walk down to the bunkhouse and steal from a vet. But what other explanation could there be? Who else could this medal belong to? And moreover, why did Emma have more than one medal? Was it possible she was really just batshit crazy and went around stealing medals?

  He sank down on the edge of the bed, his thoughts swirling and skipping around each other as Carl continued to rant about incompetence in general.

  Emma had more than one medal. What else did she have? Did she only steal medals, or did she take other things, too?

  What the hell was the matter with her?

  “Yeah, all right, I’ve been played,” Cooper said crossly into the phone when Carl screamed what a loser he was. “But she’s got that goddamn medal. Give me one more day, Carl. I will get it if it’s the last thing I do,” he said, and clicked off the phone before Carl could shout at him again.

  And then Cooper hurled his phone across the bed, hitting the pelt-covered headboard.

  He was livid. He was absolutely, illogically, and undeniably furious.

  FIFTEEN

  It would have been a very bleak morning were it not for the pristine layer of snow that dusted the mountain peaks and weighed the boughs of the pines outside of Emma’s window. All that new snow helped her believe the grit left from the night before would rub off.

  Alas, that was a pipe dream, because she couldn’t get rid of the grit.

  She’d showered and dressed, and still felt grubby and tarnished after what had happened last night. She prepared herself as best she could to meet Cooper downstairs, to see the rejection in his eyes and feel the sting of humiliation under her skin. It took some effort, but Emma adopted an expression of indifference and went downstairs.

  Cooper wasn’t there.

  “He went to town with Luke and Sam,” Libby said.

  “Left?” Emma said, thinking that Libby must somehow be mistaken.

  “Yeah, he left,” Libby said, smiling. “Why? Did you maybe want him to stay?” She poked Emma in the side.

  “No,” Emma said, ignoring the poke, and helped herself to yogurt. “I was worried you’d invite him to move in.”

  “I haven’t yet,” Libby said pertly. “But I wouldn’t mind if he did. He’s very nice and he’s easy on the eyes.”

  Emma eyed Libby suspiciously.

  Libby shrugged. “I can look, can’t I?”

  Emma sat at the kitchen bar with her yogurt. She pretended to flip through the pages of a magazine, but she didn’t see the pictures or words before her. What she saw was Cooper’s face. She shouldn’t be surprised that he left without a word to her after what had happened. He probably was so eager to get out of here and away from her that he’d been prepared to hike out.

  But he was the one who’d said all that I can stay a little while business. Why had he even bothered to say it if he didn’t mean it? If there was one thing Emma couldn’t abide, it was people who said one thing and meant another, which, obviously, he had. But still, she’d hoped maybe there had been something more in that last kiss . . .


  Grow up, Emma. You made your bed, now you lie in it.

  Unfortunately, Emma couldn’t lie in the bed she’d made—she was too out of sorts. Miserable! Completely at odds with the person she had worked to become. Where did that leave her? Who was she now?

  She picked up her purse and started for the door.

  “Are you leaving?” Libby called after her.

  “Yes!” Emma shouted back. Maybe for good. Maybe she’d get in her car and just drive until she ran into the ocean.

  Emma didn’t drive away from Pine River, she drove to work. She’d been there a half hour when Leo said, “Wow, someone’s in a mood.”

  “Who, your dad?” Emma was folding towels with her back to Leo. She knew he was talking about her, but wasn’t willing or ready to discuss her mood.

  “No, you, sweetheart,” Leo pressed. “Someone piss in your Wheaties? Let the air out of your tires?” He paused to catch his breath. Leo wouldn’t tolerate a mention of it, but it was obvious to Emma that his breathing was beginning to degrade. “Who ripped your rompers?” he asked.

  She turned around. Leo was strapped in his chair, his head buttressed by two thick pieces of foam on either side, a strap around his chest. It was amazing to Emma that Leo was always smiling. Always! As if he hadn’t a care in the world. She couldn’t force a smile today, and her troubles were so insignificant compared to his. “Just because I don’t run on at the mouth like you doesn’t mean I’m in a bad mood,” she said, trying to lighten her mood. Leo liked it when she talked that way to him. He liked to measure her response on his imaginary sass-o-meter.

  “I am basing my expert opinion not on your silence, but how mean you look.”

  “Mean!”

  “As mean as hornets at a picnic, as my mother would say. Mom definitely had a way with words. So what’s up, Em? You can tell me.”

  “Leo—”

  “Don’t say ‘nothing.’ I hate when you say nothing when it’s so obvious it’s something. Make it quick, will you? The Methodists are coming over and if we’re lucky, there is pie involved.”

  “Look, genius, you’re leaving for Denver in a few days. I would think you’d want to conserve your strength for that, so maybe you should shut up for a while.”

  “Touchy,” Leo observed as she walked around behind his chair to put the towels on a table behind him. “That’s a sure sign of a bruised heart. I mean, all anyone can talk about is how rude you are to Cooper, which says to me that you totally have a thing for him. Which, by the way”—he paused to draw a deep breath—“is an opinion I’ve shared around town. It totally makes sense, seeing as how you can’t have me.”

  Emma’s mouth gaped open. She raised her eyes to the water stain on the ceiling directly overhead and prayed that she would not bean this poor, defenseless man. “That’s ridiculous, Leo. My heart is not bruised, for God’s sake. I probably am rude to Cooper, but then again, I’m rude. And it doesn’t matter, anyway, because he’s gone back to LA.”

  “No way!” Leo said. “Dani didn’t mention it when she was here at lunch, and she definitely would have mentioned it if he’d checked out. He doesn’t like the Beaver Room, you know. That’s my favorite room.”

  Emma walked back around to the front of Leo’s chair and picked up the second basket of laundry.

  “Hello, you’re blocking Days of Our Lives,” he pointed out.

  Emma shifted to her left.

  “It’s okay to like someone, you know,” Leo said casually, his gaze on the television. “You don’t have to be an ice princess.”

  “I’m not an ice princess!” she snapped. “I’m direct, and I can’t help it if people can’t deal with direct. I choose my friends carefully, Leo. I’m not nicey-nice just for the sake of being nice and that does not make me an ice princess.”

  “Okay, just don’t stab me with an icicle,” Leo said. “How about ‘cool cucumber’? Can I say that? Because I know you like being a cool cucumber. You work hard enough at it.”

  “You’re really annoying me,” she said. “That’s just me, don’t you get that by now? It’s not an act; it’s who I am.”

  “Please,” Leo scoffed. “That’s like me saying, yeah, I have MND, but that’s just me.”

  “Stop it,” she demanded.

  “Come on, Em, what’s really twisting you around?”

  Everything. Everything! So much that she couldn’t pick out one single thing that was the culprit behind her admittedly foul mood. Her whole life was twisted around and upside down all because of that damn medal! “Gee, where to start?” she asked snidely. “I don’t like that you’re going to Denver, for one,” she said, and whipped a wrinkled towel out, snapping it dangerously close to the television. “There, I said it. I know you don’t like to hear it, I know you don’t like anyone disagreeing with your wants. And I know you really want to go, and how important the game is to you. But frankly, I’m worried about it.” She looked at him. “You know what? I agree with Bob. It’s a bad idea.”

  “Oh!” Leo said, wincing. “That’s a dagger to my poor weak heart! Beat me, curse me, but don’t agree with Dad!”

  “And the worst of it is that I can’t go with you,” she said. “What if you need something? What if you aren’t feeling well?”

  “That’s why I have a big burly nurse going with me. Plus Dad and Dante. I’ll be fine.”

  “Dante has stage-four cancer, Leo.”

  “So he’s a little weak,” Leo said. “But I still have Dad and the nurse. And the two Methodist dudes who are driving us. That’s plenty of people to worry about me while I worry about the Broncos.”

  “In other words, you don’t need me,” she said curtly.

  “Not this time,” Leo said easily, and drew another deep breath.

  Emma suddenly felt defeated, utterly defeated. Even Leo didn’t need her, the one person in her life who truly needed someone by his side 24/7. But wasn’t that what she wanted? Hadn’t she lived the last few years making damn sure that no one could ever get close enough to her to know her, much less need her? Hadn’t she equated familiarity with the ability to hurt her and wound her? Theoretically, Leo should not be able to hurt her feelings, and yet, he just had.

  “Great,” she muttered, and moved across the room to stack the towels on an empty chair.

  “Would you quit moving around? I can’t turn my head. Come on, talk to me, Em. Tell me what’s going on.”

  Oddly enough, Emma was frustrated enough that for once, she wanted to unburden herself. She wanted to say aloud the things that were rattling through her brain. And as Leo was the only person she could possibly bring herself to speak to about such personal things, she hesitantly moved toward the stool in front of him and sat down. “Am I allowed to speak during Days of Our Lives?”

  “Silly girl. I DVR my shows in case someone like you has a life crisis. But it is Days, so this better be good.” He flashed his lopsided smile.

  “I gave him the medal,” Emma said flatly.

  That caught Leo off guard. “Wow. If I could raise my eyebrows, I totally would right now. You had the thing he wanted? And you gave it to him? And you lied about it?”

  “Yep. All of that.”

  “That is like, super curious,” Leo said. “What, you didn’t like the guy or something?”

  “I hardly knew him,” she said. “I have a lot of things like it. Things I’ve taken from guys I hardly knew. But did know, you know . . . intimately.”

  For once, Leo didn’t have an instant comeback. “That’s awesome,” he said, his voice full of wonder. “That makes you like . . . a love bandit. And yet it begs the question of why?”

  “I don’t know,” Emma said angrily. She spread her fingers wide over her knees. “It’s weird, I know, God, how I know,” she said, feeling the agony of it. “Even saying it makes me kind of sick. And it’s so wrong, obviously. Maybe even cr
iminal. Not to mention unhealthy,” she said, gesturing at her head. “But honestly, Leo, I don’t want to really do anything about it. Or at least I didn’t until now.”

  “An unrepentant bandit. That’s the best kind, you know. That makes you a sexy jewel thief.”

  “Leo, I’m serious,” Emma said with some exasperation. “It makes me despicable.”

  “Are you kidding? You could never be despicable, Emma! Okay, so you have a screw loose. Who doesn’t?” He paused to take a deep breath.

  He was frustrating her, unwilling to take her seriously. “I should never have said anything,” she said, and stood up.

  “Wait, wait,” Leo said. “Please sit down. For the sake of argument, let’s just agree that you have a major screw loose. I mean, by any definition this is prime nutter territory.”

  She cast a withering look at him. “You’re not helping.”

  “Still, it doesn’t make you bad, Emma. It doesn’t make you despicable. It doesn’t make you unlovable.”

  That word, unlovable, kicked Emma in the gut. She sucked in a sharp breath as if she’d actually been hit and pressed her palm against her abdomen. The painful twist she felt surprised her, and she slowly sank onto the stool again.

  “What? What’d I say?” Leo asked. “Unlovable? Was that it? I said you weren’t unlovable.”

  “Don’t, Leo,” Emma said, and swallowed. “You’re not a shrink and it’s not like I’m going to change.”

  “But you’re not unlovable, Emma. Wait—is that a double negative? Look, what I’m trying to say is that you’re lovable. Totally, completely lovable, even with this crazy thing you do. I mean, look at me, I adore you!”

  Emma looked at him, expecting to see the twinkle of laughter in his eyes, but Leo looked as earnest as she’d ever seen him.

  “I don’t adore you in that way, I already told you. But I love you because you’re you. You’re like, drop-dead gorgeous, and you say what’s on your mind, and you think about things in a funny way, and you’ll watch a marathon of Duck Dynasty with me when I know you’re bored and you don’t make fun of me even once. You’re awesome, Emma. And just because you took a medal from some guy—okay, guys—doesn’t make you any less so.”