He shook his head. “Nothing that can’t wait.”
“Okay, well...” Why wouldn’t her legs move? She wanted to stay here on her room’s threshold with him, but also didn’t. Her traitorous imagination just kept replaying him leaning in for a kiss. “Good night.”
His eyes narrowed. “We’ve already been through that.”
“Right.” Beyond flustered, she bolted all the way into her room, shut the door and threw herself across the foot of her bed. What was wrong with her? She was a mom. A caregiver. A widow.
She was far too sensible for crushes, and even if she did have one, Cooper was the last man on earth she’d be attracted to—well, scratch that. Any woman in her right mind would be attracted to him, but that was different. She wasn’t talking about something as shallow as finding him hot.
Then what are you talking about? her conscience nudged.
Even more to the point, what was she fantasizing about? Because her vision of him—them—had crossed every sane person’s acceptable behavior boundary.
*
COME FIRST LIGHT, Cooper downed black coffee and instant oatmeal, checked on his dad to find him lightly snoring then fixed a bottle for the calf before shrugging on his brother’s coat and heading out to the barn.
“Hey, fella...” he said to the little guy who stood in his pen, excited to see him—as opposed to the wide-eyed, startled-doe look he typically got from Millie. “Hungry?”
Cooper removed his gloves, resting them on the lip of a feed bucket. He liked the feel of the calf’s warm, breathy snorts against his palm. He’d forgotten the simple pleasures of being in the barn when the sun rises. The way dust motes swirled in the sunbeams piercing through holes in the wood-plank walls. The rich scents of hay and leather. The sound of a light breeze whistling high in the rafters.
He took a deep breath, slowly exhaling.
“Had a big night,” he said to his bovine pal. “Not sure how, but Dad and I turned a corner.” He’d wanted so badly to share the miracle with Millie, but as usual, she’d treated him like a pariah.
What was she doing now?
Still snoozing until time to wake her kiddos? Or standing at the kitchen counter, looking sleepy-pretty in her fluffy pink robe? Lord, she’d grown into a fine-looking woman.
“Wanna hear a confession?” he asked the greedily suckling calf. “Yeah? Okay, well, true story—I’m a sucker for a woman in the morning.” Messy hair and smudged mascara only heightened his pleasure. “I’ve always been a little jealous of my married friends.” They were the lucky ones, waking up alongside their beauties every day—at least when they weren’t out on missions.
Cooper sighed.
He could count on one hand the number of mornings he’d rolled over to be greeted by a welcoming smile. Sure, he’d been with his fair share of women, but precious few he’d cared enough about to spend the night.
Since his mother’s death, Cooper had only lived half a life. On the job, he was all in and then some, but when it came to personal stuff, he was lost.
The barn door creaked open.
He glanced in that direction, expecting to see J.J. bounding in to feed the chickens. Instead, he saw Millie decked out in her pink robe and cowboy boots. Backlit by the sun, her tumble of hair formed a long halo. Her unaffected beauty quite literally took his breath away.
“There you are.” Closing the door behind her, she hustled over to the calf, petting him, then warming her hands beneath his heat lamp. “Brr. It’s chillier out here than I thought.”
“Which raises the question—” he scooped feed for the chickens, sprinkling it on the floor of their pen “—why are you out here?”
She used the toe of her boot to shift straw. “I felt bad.”
“’Bout what?” He carried the chickens’ water dish to the spigot.
“Last night. You wanted to talk, and I—”
“Forget about it.” Because by the light of day, he no longer had the courage to open up to anyone—let alone Millie—about what had transpired with his father. Right after it happened, in the heat of the moment, he couldn’t wait to share. But now he realized what a mistake opening up to Millie would be.
He already had a tough enough time physically staying away from her. If he ever let her emotionally inside? He’d be a goner.
Chapter Eleven
“Mom, eew!” Acting as if it were filled with worms, LeeAnn tossed her lunch sack to the counter. “You put J.J.’s gross bologna sandwich in my bag instead of my peanut butter.”
“Sorry,” Millie said in a not exactly sympathetic tone. What was Cooper’s problem? She’d gone to the barn carrying an olive branch and come back with her arm a bloody stump. “Ever think you might be old enough to fix your own lunch?”
“I would,” her daughter sassed, “but you always say I dawdle.”
“You do.” Millie switched the sandwiches, and even though she knew her daughter should be doing more around the house, she instantly regretted her sharp words. The kids had been through so much. What could it hurt for her to coddle them a little while longer? Besides, it wasn’t LeeAnn she was upset with, but her uncle.
She felt like a darned fool. What had possessed her to traipse out to the barn like that?
“Mom?” J.J. wore his Transformers T-shirt inside out, and he hadn’t even tried brushing his hair. “Have you seen my sneakers?”
“No, sweetie, but let’s find ’em soon. The bus will be here any minute.”
Ten minutes later, Millie had successfully gotten both kids on the bus, and now sat on the sofa holding an Oreo in each hand.
With a morning like this, what did that forecast about the rest of her day?
As if on cue, Clint hollered for her attention.
“Hold your horses,” she hollered right back.
She’d already made most of his breakfast—just needed to add butter and sugar to his oatmeal.
She leisurely finished her cookies then trudged back to the kitchen to fix Clint’s plate.
While she bustled around, Cheetah gave himself a bath on top of the fridge. She stuck out her tongue at the traitorous fur ball.
“Here you go,” she said to Clint a short while later in his room.
Her smile felt forced. Most mornings, she enjoyed seeing the kids off to school and caring for Clint, but on this day, she’d have rather taken her entire bag of cookies upstairs to hide with under the covers.
Her father-in-law tapped his marker board. It read: Where’s my son?
His son? This was a new development. Since when did Clint claim Cooper? “Last I saw him, he was in the barn.” She stirred the melting pat of butter into the oatmeal. “By now, he’s probably out checking the cattle.”
“T-take m-me.”
“To look after the cattle? We’ll have to ask Peg about that. She’ll be here tomorrow for the weekend.”
He nodded, then pointed to his bowl, motioning that he’d like to take the spoon.
“You’re not just eating your oats this morning, but feeling them.”
He lurched for the spoon, managed to grab hold, but then spilled his first bite, which launched a tantrum.
“Simmer down.” She wiped the mess from his pajama top with a warm, damp cloth. “This time, let me guide you, and we’ll see if we can manage together.”
He scowled.
“You don’t like that idea?”
“D-do my-myself.”
“I know you can, and I love that you’re wanting to try, but—” He grabbed hold of her latest spoonful and flung it.
“Dad!” Cooper barked. “Knock it off.”
Feeling as if she’d walked in on a movie that had already started, Millie was beyond confused by the sight of Cooper calmly curling his father’s fingers around the oversize spoon his physical therapist had provided, then helping him guide it to his mouth.
“There you go...” Cooper’s voice was gentle and patient, and certainly not from the same man she usually saw at Clint’s bedside. “That’s
it, slow and steady. We’ll get you back to normal in no time.”
Millie stood on the sidelines until Clint had finished his entire meal—toward the end, even feeding himself for a couple bites. The change in not just his physical abilities, but also his attitude, was profound. Something had to have happened between the last time she’d tucked him in and now.
Millie tried helping Clint with his usual bathing routine, but he wasn’t having it, and wanted only Cooper to help.
That afternoon, by the time her father-in-law’s speech therapist arrived, Millie stood at the kitchen sink, washing lunch dishes—or at least trying to. What she mostly focused on was Cooper. He was out back, wielding a chain saw to clear the remains of fallen cottonwood branches.
Before he could start on the chicken coop, the debris had to be cleared. It was a big job. The kind of thing she might’ve helped Jim and Clint tackle. Part of her thought she should head outside to lend a hand, but tensions between them had been running so high, what if he didn’t want her anywhere near him? Besides, he was clearly capable of handling even this large of a task on his own.
It was already one on the gorgeous sunny day, and the temperature had apparently grown warm enough to warrant Cooper removing his shirt.
While the running faucet overflowed the mixing bowl she’d set in the sink, she couldn’t help but visually drink the man in. The breadth of his chest. The definition of his abs. The way his faded jeans hung low on his hips and how he’d half-assed tucked his pant legs into his cowboy boots.
In raising the saw, his biceps flexed.
What would it feel like for him to hold me?
The moment the thought struck, Millie banished it. Clearly, the next time Lynette nagged her about dating, she might need to at least entertain the possibility. She and her husband had shared a healthy physical relationship, and she missed that aspect of her life. The only thing driving these inappropriate thoughts were basic needs for closeness and companionship. Plain and simple. No great mysterious longings for specifically Cooper, but essentially any man.
He’d cut quite a pile of limbs and turned off the saw. The sudden peace was welcome, but not as much as when he bent to gather logs for the woodpile. In the process, he offered mesmerizing views of his strong back, narrow waist and mouthwatering derriere.
She licked her lips.
“Holy mother of all that’s good in this world...” Clint’s speech therapist, Stacie, nudged Millie aside to fill his water pitcher from the tap. “A man that good-looking ought to be criminal.”
“He’s not so special...” Millie managed to say, though her mouth had grown painfully dry. Liar!
The pretty twentysomething female therapist whistled. “If you say so. Is he single?”
“Cooper? I suppose.”
“How long’s he going to be in town?”
Millie started to speak, but bit her tongue. Wincing, she raised her hands to her mouth.
“You okay?”
Millie nodded. “I’m fine. Thanks. And for the record, I’m not sure when my brother-in-law’s leaving. I suppose as soon as his dad’s back on his feet.”
The therapist smiled. “Hmm... That gives me at least a couple months to get something going. And Valentine’s Day is almost here. Mack’s dating Wilma Meadows, and he’s asking everyone to spread the word about a big party he’s throwing at the bar. Know if he goes for my type—Cooper, not Mack?” Petite? Blonde? Flawless hair, makeup and nails?
Probably. “Gosh, I wouldn’t have a clue.”
*
“NEED HELP?”
“Sure.” Cooper set a trio of fresh logs on the woodpile against the side of the house. “At this point, all there is left to do is haul the rest of what I cut. Looks like the coop’s foundation is intact, so building a new one shouldn’t be a big deal.”
“That’s good.” They soon set into a rhythm. “I once saw a fancy chicken coop in that Oprah Magazine. Looked like a tiny Victorian mansion.”
“That a hint?” His sideways grin gave wing to the butterflies that’d taken up residence low in her belly.
“Not at all. Just making small talk to pass the time.”
He nodded.
“While I’ve got you, that was some miracle you worked with your dad.”
His shrug did little to satisfy her curiosity.
“Did something happen? You know, like a breakthrough between you two?”
He placed his latest load of wood on the pile, then stretched, cradling the small of his back. “Why do you care?”
“Excuse me?” Before she could set her logs, he took them from her, in the process brushing against her in that maddeningly innocent way he had of driving her beyond distraction without having really done anything at all.
“You heard me...” He left her to get more wood.
“Wait—” Dawning was slow to come, but when it did, she chased after him. “Is this about last night? When you asked me to talk?”
“Drop it, okay?”
“Don’t be like that.”
“Mill...”
Upon his arrival, the last thing she’d wanted was for them to constantly be at odds. So why were they? Knowing guilt knotted her stomach. She innately knew the reason they never got along, and the responsibility rested solely on her conscience. She was prickly around him, because of her physical attraction. It made as little sense in her head as it did in her heart. Nonetheless, that was the truth, and she’d never been the type to shy from blame.
“Coop?”
“What?” His terse tone made her wince.
“Just guessing, but when I made that ground-rules speech, I think you may have taken it a smidge more literally than I’d intended.”
“How else was I supposed to take it? You pretty much made it plain that I’m not wanted. That said, even a blind pig could see you might not want me, but you damn well need me.”
She cringed. If you only knew...
“You’re right,” she said. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate what you’ve already done.” And from now on, I promise not to let my apparent physical cravings interfere with common courtesy. “I’m sorry about my earlier attitude.”
“I don’t need an apology. As soon as Dad’s back on his feet, your problem will be solved when I’m gone.”
Her throat knotted. Because of her harsh words, he viewed himself as a problem? If she was dead honest with herself, she knew nothing could be further from the truth. “Don’t be silly. I appreciate your help more than you’ll ever know. In fact, you’ve already made a transformation with your dad. What if you and I did the same?”
She met and held his gaze, wishing things could be different between them. That they could turn back the clock and be back in school, cracking a joke in chemistry class. Instead, she felt—
“Millie?” Stacie flounced out of the house in all her cute, young, disgustingly perky glory. “I’m all done! Clint did great!” She crossed the yard, holding out his monitor. “Thought you might need this.”
“Thanks.” Millie grit her teeth in annoyance. Couldn’t Miss Perky Pants have stayed inside a few minutes longer? Or, better yet, left out the front door?
Stacie cinched her black satchel strap higher on her shoulder then crossed the short distance to Cooper, holding out her hand. “You must be Clint’s son. I’m Stacie, his speech therapist.”
“Good to meet you.” After sharing his name, Cooper pulled the patented cowboy move of shaking her hand while tipping his hat. Lord, he looked good. And it made Millie sick that she couldn’t help but notice! “Thanks for all you’ve been doing with my dad.”
“Oh, it’s my pleasure. How long will you be in town?”
“Just long enough, I s’pose.” Classic infuriating cowboy response—long enough to be polite, but not convey any actual information.
Stacie didn’t seem the least bit put off. If anything, his shortness only spurred her on. “Well, in that case, guess that means you’ll be here for the big Valentine’s Day party dow
n at Mack’s?”
“I’ll be here,” he said, his gaze roving off toward the south pasture. “But I’m not the party type.”
“Well, you’d be doing me a huge favor if you switched that up.” Big grin. Bat, bat of her lashes. “My creep boyfriend cheated on me with Allison—she’s a waitress over at Maude’s in Greenbriar. Anyway, the two of them are now an item, and since they’ll be there, I wanted to show off my own shiny new toy.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Sorry, ma’am, but I’m not really the boy toy type, either.”
“Oh, come on.” She gave him an elbow nudge. “Millie, help me out here. How about both of you come? Peg’s supposed to be here that weekend, right? I’ll bet she wouldn’t mind staying with Clint and the kids.”
“Stacie...” Millie sighed. “This sort of thing just isn’t me.”
Miss Perky Pants pouted. “It’ll be fun. You’ll know everyone there. And who knows? Maybe you’ll even find a cowboy all your own.”
That suggestion raised Millie’s hackles. First, if she wanted a man, she could darn well find one without Stacie’s assistance. And second—well, she was too darn mad to even think of a second reason, but she was sure it was there somewhere. “You know what? I think I will go. And Cooper, you should go with Stacie.”
The look he shot her way was darker than a spring thunderhead. “I. Said. I. Don’t. Party.”
“I know for a fact you drink beer and save people, so look on the event as an altruistic way to both save poor Stacie and down a few longnecks.”
“Yaaaay!” Stacie said with a giggly leap, entwining her arm with Cooper’s. “It’s a date. And since I live all the way out by the county line, I’ll just be here around seven that Saturday night. That way, we can ride together.” Wink, wink. “We’re gonna have a ball.”
*
“WHAT THE HELL did you do that for?” Cooper asked Millie the second his date drove off.
“Do what?” she asked, all innocent, as if she didn’t know exactly what he was talking about.
“You know what. I’m not going to be here much longer, and even if I were, dating a teenager is hardly on my agenda.”
Millie grabbed an armful of logs. “Stacie’s at least old enough to have graduated college. Besides, her suggestion that I couldn’t find my own man really ticked me off.”
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