by Mille West
She told him about the song that Cooper had written for her, and he replied, “I would love to hear him play it sometime. Did he pen a score?”
“No, sir, he didn’t.”
“Then, you can pen the score. You can write the lyrics. Decide how the song begins and ends.”
Suddenly quiet, he took a sip from his vodka martini. “Mills, I have a birthday present for you, and another donation to the Heath Foundation. You will please me greatly by accepting both gifts.”
He took an envelope out of his coat pocket and handed it to her. “You can open it now if you’d like.”
She glanced inside the envelope and her mouth dropped open. He laughed at her reaction. “I didn’t mean to shock you.”
“Mr. van der Wolf, thank you so much for your donation. This is marvelous.”
“And for you. I’d like to explain about this gift before I show it to you. I believe you are acquainted with the accident that took my daughter’s life.”
“Yes, sir.”
“She was about to turn twenty-five years, and I had already purchased a gift for her birthday. There is something I want you to understand. When I pass away, my possessions will be auctioned off with the proceeds benefiting two charities, and the bulk of my estate will go to my alma mater, Yale University.” He brought out a small box from inside his coat. “I purchased this ring for Lydia from Harry Winston’s in New York, and I would like for you to have it.” Due to the age of the case, Mills realized this was the original gift box from Harry Winston’s, and when he opened it, a magnificent diamond-and-sapphire ring was revealed. A shaft of daylight from a nearby window illuminated the brilliant fire in the stones.
Her voice cracked as she spoke, “Mr. van der Wolf, I can’t accept your ring.”
“And why not?”
“It just wouldn’t be appropriate.”
“By whose standards? I want you to understand that you are the first friendly person to come into my life in many years. There is no one else that I would like to have it—but you. If you decide that you do not want it, feel free to sell the ring and donate the proceeds to the Heath Foundation.”
Becoming somber at the end of the conversation, he said, “You will make me happy if you accept my gift and wear it.” He took the ring from the case and slipped it on the ring finger of her right hand. “See? It fits perfectly. Your left ring finger is still available for the wedding band that you will wear, one day.”
Mills waited on the rear steps of Cooper’s back porch for him to get home from the fields. She could hear his tractor in the distance and the voices of men who were on the farm to help with planting.
Her second appointment of the day had been successful, and she felt good about the response she was receiving from donors, many of whom she had visited multiple times before they contributed to the Heath Foundation. When she called on Preston Jones at the Rutledge Bank and Trust, he had been unavailable, but his secretary gave Mills an envelope that contained a donation for $5,000. He had written her a note: “Keep up the good work, and stop by when you’re downtown.”
She continued to wait on the steps until dusk when she heard the tractor shut down and the voices of Cooper and Charles as they came up the path to the house. When they saw Mills waiting on the steps, Charles was the first to greet her. “Miss Mills, I hope you are well this evening?”
“Yes, Charles, and I hope you are.”
“Doing well. Have a nice evening,” he said, as he passed by.
Cooper sat down beside her on the steps. “I hope your day has not been difficult. How did your appointments go?”
She placed the donation from Rutledge Bank and Trust in his hand, and he smiled with approval. Then she gave him the check from Mr. van der Wolf, and his eyes grew large as he looked at the amount. “Whew! Maybe I should throw you in the briar patch before the start of each work week. Piet has been very generous.”
“I have something else to show you, and I don’t know what to do about it.”
“What’s wrong?”
She put her right hand out in front of her and showed him the magnificent ring that Piet had given her for her birthday.
He took her hand in his and closely inspected the ring before saying, “I think Piet is a little too old for you to marry. That’s the wrong ring finger anyway.”
“Marry? Would you please be serious?”
“Yes, ma’am. Now tell me about the ring.”
“Mr. van der Wolf said he purchased the ring for his daughter, Lydia, before her accident, and he said that I am the first friendly person to come into his life in years. If I don’t accept it, the ring will be auctioned with his other possessions when he passes away. I was also given the option of selling it and giving the proceeds to the Heath Foundation. Cooper, he said I would make him happy if I kept the ring.”
“Do you want the ring?”
“Yes. I was flattered by his gift. I would like to keep it.”
“Then, you should. I think it’s very beautiful. I didn’t know Piet had such good taste.”
“Am I embarrassing the foundation by accepting it?”
“Mills, didn’t he say that you would make him happy by accepting his gift?”
“Yes.”
“Then keep the ring if you want to. This is up to you. You’re not embarrassing me—I don’t feel that way.”
“He refers to you as my young man. I tell him that you’re my employer, but he still does this, I think, unconsciously.”
He smiled when she said this, and then added, “I hope that you will help me with a couple of things this weekend. Why don’t you come inside? I’ll make you dinner, and we can talk.”
She nodded, and he held the door open for her as they went into his home.
Friday, on her way home from Charleston, Mills stopped by Dawkins’s Market for groceries. The work week had been successful, but exhaustive, and she planned to go to bed early that evening. Cooper’s cousins Blair and Zack would be visiting for the weekend, and she had been invited to participate in the activities.
After she made her purchase, she started down the steps of the market toward her car. Without warning, she was hit from behind by two boys. Her grocery bag was knocked from her arms, and she fell forward, scratching the palms of her hands and knees in the parking lot. She yelled loudly at the boys, but one of them grabbed her purse, and they disappeared around the corner of an antique store. Mr. Dawkins ran out of the market to help her up. Her eggs were smashed on the ground, and her groceries were scattered under cars in the parking lot.
“Mills, are you all right?”
“Yes, sir, but those boys—they must have been hiding underneath the steps. They stole my purse, and they have my car keys.”
He helped her inside the market and then he phoned the sheriff and Cooper’s house.
“The police are on the way, and Marian said that either Charles or Cooper would be here in a few minutes.”
He offered her a Coke while she waited, and within a few minutes, she saw Cooper pull up in front of the market. He quickly came inside the store with a look of concern on his face. When he
saw her, a hint of relief entered his eyes. “A couple of boys knocked Mills down and stole her purse. I’ve called the sheriff.”
Cooper knelt beside her and looked into her eyes. “Are you all right?”
She showed him her abrasions and said, “I just skinned my hands and knees.”
He pulled her to her feet. “I’d like for you to ride with me, and we’ll try to find those boys.”
As they began their drive around the village, Mills described the boys and their attire. They were both wearing yellow caps and black shirts. Cooper drove down a sandy lane that led away from Alston Station and stopped in front of two abandoned cotton warehouses. He spotted the boys behind some rusted-out machinery in the high grass between the buildings.
“Mills, are you up to walking to the main road and flagging down the deputy when he arrives in town?”
“Yes, I think so.”
“Good. I’m going to retrieve your purse.”
“Cooper, wait for the sheriff. Please.”
“No. I can’t let them get away.” He parked the Suburban and went around the side of the building. As soon as the boys saw him coming, they split up, and Cooper chased the thief who ran with her handbag. Mills saw Cooper follow him into a forested area and she walked briskly to the intersection.
She flagged down the deputy as he came into town and explained about Cooper’s pursuit of the thief. Mills got in the police car and they drove to the old warehouses, parking beside the Suburban. Cooper was coming out of the forest with the boy who had run with her purse and he was less than gentle with him.
When the deputy joined Cooper in restraining the youth, the boy began to scream obscenities at the top of his voice and attempted to kick the two men.
He was handcuffed, read his Miranda rights, and seated in the rear of the patrol car, but vulgarities continued to spew from his mouth.
Cooper was sweating from the chase, and he handed Mills her purse and asked her to see what was missing. He gave the deputy a description of the other boy and informed him that Miss Taylor would be pressing charges.
After taking the report, the deputy told them that an officer would be in touch with them and he drove away with the boy. “What’s missing from your purse?”
“My money, makeup, and a small wooden charm that my mother gave me. My car keys are here.”
They scoured the area where the boys had been hiding, but to no avail.
“Are you sure I should press charges against that boy? He looks so young.”
“He may be young, but he has already resorted to assault and theft. Hopefully, some help can be provided to him and he has the courage to change.”
When they returned to the market, Mr. Dawkins had replaced the damaged grocery items. Cooper lifted the bags for her and followed her home. He asked her to come inside his house so he could clean her abrasions.
When they entered the house, Cooper’s cousins Blair and Zack had arrived, along with Cooper’s Aunt Jennifer, and the boys immediately grabbed her hands and led her to a chair in the kitchen. “Miss Taylor, we want to take care of you,” Blair told her. They watched intently as Cooper cleaned the scrapes on Mills’s hands and knees with medication from the first-aid kit.
As Cooper put a Band-Aid on her knee, he asked, “Did anything ever happen like this back home—while you lived in New York?”
“Just once—a taxi came close to hitting me.”
He looked worried until she said, “This is my home now.”
“Boys—please take Miss Taylor’s grocery items from the Suburban to her cottage.”
“Yes sir,” Blair responded. “We’ll take care of it.”
That afternoon, after Cooper’s aunt returned to Charleston, the boys helped him make dinner and they refused to allow Mills to lift anything. She learned that the boys had been to New York with their grandmother to see Broadway plays and explore the city while their parents had gone to France on an antique-buying trip. The boys explained they had been forced to attend plays and wear suits and ties for afternoon tea. When Mills told them that attending Broadway plays was one of her favorite pastimes, the boys changed their attitude.
Cooper pulled Mills aside in the kitchen, “I think if you endorsed algebra homework for Blair, he would begin to like that too.” They played cards after dinner, and the boys joined Cooper when he walked Mills to her cottage.
“Mills will join us for fishing tomorrow if she’s up to it.”
“That’s great!” Zack exclaimed.
“Until tomorrow then,” Cooper said as he took Zack by the hand and rubbed his other hand through Blair’s hair.
“Good night,” Mills said from the steps leading to her cottage.
The following day, the boys had success while fishing on new fly rods that Cooper had purchased for them. During the afternoon, Mills watched as Cooper played football with the boys on the green. They continued to pamper her for the remainder of the day, and after dinner and another round of cards, they joined Cooper to walk her home.
On Sunday afternoon, along with Jeff, Anne and her husband David came to shoot clays. A friend of Cooper’s from the Air Force, James Burton, was also in attendance. When Cooper introduced Mills to him, he explained that James was also a friend of her former employer, Harry Foster, and they had met at the Air Force Academy.
Jeff gave her a hug on her sore shoulder and the pressure caused her to wince in pain.
“Have I lost my sex appeal?”
“Yes.”
He laughed at her response and kissed her on the cheek.
Their eyes locked. “I fell off Ginger last Sunday after a snake encounter.” He was holding her hands, and when he turned her palms up, he noticed the abrasions inflicted during the robbery at the market. His eyes were intently focused on hers. “Snakes can be a problem, but is that how you hurt your hands?”
“No, two teenage boys knocked me down at the market on Friday and took my purse. Cooper was able to retrieve most of my possessions.”
“Including your money?”
“No, they took it.”
Jeff looked at Cooper, his faced tense with anger. “I bet those boys are from the group of individuals that you bend over backward to help.” Before Cooper could respond, Jeff turned her palms down and noticed the ring that Piet van der Wolf had given her. He looked at Cooper and then at her. “Where did you get this ring? It’s exquisite.”
“Piet van der Wolf gave it to me for my birthday. He purchased it for his daughter before she passed away.”
In a challenge to Cooper, Jeff said, “You’re not going to allow her to keep this, are you?”
“She makes her own decisions.”
“Does she really? We’ll talk about this later.” He turned back to Mills and asked, “Are both hoodlums in jail?”
“No, Cooper could only catch one of the boys.”
“I’m sorry that happened to you, but you’ll never find the other crook. The boy who was arrested will not divulge the identity of his buddy.”
“Jeff, Cooper, I thought we were going to shoot this afternoon,” Anne interceded. She looked a
t Mills and said, “You’ve probably noticed that Jeff and Cooper enjoy verbal sparring.”
Mills was wearing one of Julia’s hunting hats, and Anne smiled at her. “I think I remember that hat.”
“Cooper let me have three hats from the attic.”
“You look as lovely in that hat as Julia did,” Anne said.
Mills thanked her for her compliment and then helped Cooper operate the sporting clays stations. Jeff shot first and was flawless, and then the others took turns.
When James Burton shot, Mills noticed what a magnificent shotgun he owned. The side plate on his firearm was engraved with a hunting scene; neither Cooper nor any of his relatives possessed a gun with such handsome scrollwork. It was a shame that he was not as capable a marksman as his firearm suggested. Missing most of the clays, he made excuses as to why he missed his shots.
Jeff came to where Mills was stationed and said, “You have been given the honor of meeting the glorious aviator, James Burton. He’ll be glad to tell you what an excellent pilot he is, but I suspect his flying skills are comparable to his shooting skills.” Jeff laughed. “I’m not sure why Cooper ever liked him. It’s a wonder that his back isn’t permanently bent from carrying his flight kit in one hand and showing off his money with the other—that arrogant ass.”
“Cooper seems to like him.”
“Well, I can’t figure out Cooper sometimes—by the way, Aunt Julia’s hat looks lovely on you.”
“Thank you,” she said with a smile.
Cooper was the last to shoot, and when he finished, the group began to gather their gear and firearms to return to the house. Cooper was engaged in a conversation with James—Mills walked up behind them without their being aware of her presence. She heard James ask Cooper, “Mills is beautiful; how is she?”