“You need to let people help you.”
“I can take care of myself. I have to take care of myself.” She touched his arm only briefly. “Goodbye, Reese.”
He nodded and walked up the steps. The front door opened. He smiled and stepped through.
“Reese,” his mom greeted him. “Was that Cheyenne?”
“We’ll talk later.” When he knew what to say, when he knew what he was thinking.
Chapter Five
On Sunday Cheyenne drove to the Dawson Community Church and sat in the parking lot. As the lot filled, she watched people walk to the church. They walked in groups, laughing and talking, sharing stories. She sat alone, unnoticed in the far corner. For ten years she’d lived outside of this lovely part of society. She thought about the few friends she’d had in Vegas—showgirls, waitresses and one or two who had jobs that would have really made the good citizens of Dawson blush.
How did she go from who she had been in Vegas to someone accepted in Dawson? How did she walk into this church, wearing a secondhand or maybe thirdhand maternity dress and sit with these people who looked as if they had always belonged?
She sat in her car through what should have been Sunday school. She waited until the bell rang, signaling the beginning of the service, and finally she worked up the courage to get out.
The church bell rang a few more times. Cheyenne loved that sound. It meant something constant, unchanging and holding to tradition. She wanted each of those things. She wanted real faith, constant, unchanging. She wanted something to pass down to her child. She wanted her little boy to always know that he belonged, that people wanted him.
To get what she wanted she had to walk through the doors of that church, face the people inside, their stares, their whispers and their speculation. She had to pretend Reese Cooper meant nothing to her. This had to be about her, about God and her unborn child.
Before she could make it to the church, she saw him. He walked down the steps, the white cane hanging loosely from his hand. Heather stood at the top, watching. She waved before stepping back inside, leaving the two of them alone. Reese reached the sidewalk and faced her, his smile easy, his eyes hidden behind sunglasses.
“Cheyenne?” He took a few steps in her direction.
“Yes.”
“Heather saw you. She doesn’t usually come here on Sundays but today is Dad’s birthday.” He stopped, and she walked up to him, taking his arm and turning him toward the church. The gesture came easy—too easy. It seemed as if they’d always been.
“I nearly chickened out,” she admitted as they paused at the bottom of the steps.
“You’re still shaking.” He slid his hand down her arm to lace his fingers through hers. “They really don’t bite. God doesn’t send bolts of lightning.”
“The roof doesn’t cave in?”
“It’s never even cracked. Wait, once. But that was because of a tornado.”
“Good thing.” She swallowed and then took a deep, fortifying breath. “I’m ready.”
It had been easier in Vegas. The church there had been filled with people like herself, people seeking answers, forgiveness, acceptance. But then, maybe people everywhere were seeking those same things.
“I’m not letting go.” Reese leaned to whisper close to her ear.
She smiled at that and thought he probably would let go. Eventually. They walked up the steps. He took it easy, right foot first, holding the rail and sighing when they reached the top.
“Sometimes it feels like mountain climbing.” He spoke quietly as they walked through the doors.
“I know.” Not physically, but emotionally, spiritually, she knew about climbing mountains. “Can we sit at the back?”
“Not on your life.” He held tight to her hand and leaned to whisper. “The Coopers always sit in the second pew, right-hand side. There are twenty pews. I count to nineteen, and we’re home.”
He touched the back pew, number twenty, and each step he took, he reached to touch the pew and she knew he was counting. When they reached his family, he motioned her in first and then he slid in next to her.
Around her she heard a flurry of quiet whispers, and she knew people were talking. The speculation continued. She wanted to stand up and shout that yes, she’d done things she was ashamed of. And yes, she’d married Reese Cooper at a wedding chapel in Vegas. But she loved God and she loved...
She closed her eyes and gave herself and the people around her a break. She knew that speculation wasn’t the worst thing. People were going to talk. Curiosity couldn’t be helped.
The choir stood to sing and Cheyenne stood with the congregation. The song was about falling down before God. And she wanted to but in private and not here, leaving people to speculate more, to question her sanity. And she did question it herself...often.
Throughout the service she listened, got distracted. Her thoughts were spinning, and the man next to her didn’t help. He stared straight ahead, a slight smile on his face as he listened to the preacher. Every now and then he shifted in the seat, stretched or leaned close. His hand remained on hers.
Church ended. Everyone stood. Cheyenne stood. Reese moved out of the pew, taking her with them. People pushed around them, closing in. She wanted to leave, but the hand on hers held tight.
“Reese, who is your friend?” A man walked up, his smile genuine as he looked from Cheyenne to Reese.
“This is Cheyenne. She just opened up Uncle Johnny’s old barbershop.”
“You’re a barber?” The man’s brows drew in. He hitched his thumbs through the straps of his bib overalls.
“A beautician, actually. But I can cut a man’s hair, too.”
“Well, I’ll stop by and give you a chance. It’d save me driving to Grove.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Don’t call me sir. The name is Hank.”
“Hank. Thank you.”
Her heart slowed its nervous pace as more people stopped by to meet Reese’s “friend.” Reese held her hand, and with each introduction, her confidence grew and she thought maybe she’d make it here. Maybe she’d be able to come to this church, raise her son here and find friends that accepted her.
Maybe she’d learn to be okay with herself. Because hadn’t the sermon been about just that? God created us, and He didn’t make mistakes. He always had a plan. He was like the voice on the GPS, urging us to turn around at the earliest convenience, to get back on the right path. And at the end of the journey, the voice informed, “You have reached your destination.”
She needed a destination to reach.
Another hand touched her arm. She turned and smiled into the clearly questioning eyes of Angie Cooper. The look didn’t hold anger or resentment, just questions. And Cheyenne couldn’t be the one to give the answers. For the last ten minutes, as they’d made their way to the door, Reese had introduced her as a friend, nothing more.
It might be for the best if they kept it that way. Then when things ended, there wouldn’t be questions. Explanations wouldn’t be required. They could continue to be friends.
Besides, she wasn’t his wife, really.
“Would you like to join us for lunch?” Angie smiled a genuine smile with the invitation.
Lunch with the Coopers? She hesitated, lost a step and tripped over nothing more than carpet. Reese grabbed her up. “Careful.”
“Sorry, I’m more clumsy lately.”
“Have you been feeling okay?” Angie held her other arm, and together they walked out the door and down the steps.
“Yes. I’ve stayed off my feet and taken the medication. Things seem to be better. The doctor Jesse sent me to seems to think I’ll make it to term if I take it easy and rest as much as possible.”
“That’s good advice. And if there’s anything we can do, please let us know.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Cooper.” Cheyenne looked around, looked for a way to escape because she couldn’t spend the day with this family, pretending to be someone she wasn’t, wishing sh
e was someone she wasn’t.
“Lunch?” Reese stood next to her. When she turned to look at him, her ability to reason clouded over.
For a brief moment she looked at him, her husband, and she wanted to keep him. She wanted to keep his smile, his hazel eyes, the comfort of his touch. He stood there, unaware of the way her eyes misted over. He didn’t know that her heart hammered an unsteady rhythm each time she looked at him. And today, standing there so tall and straight in jeans and a pale blue button-up shirt, today he looked like someone she could love.
If love even existed....
“I have to go.” She touched his arm. She smiled at Angie Cooper. “I really have to go.”
“Cheyenne?” Reese followed after her. “Not fair.”
“I’m sorry.” She stopped on the sidewalk, twenty feet away from him. “I can’t do this today.”
“I know.” He said it quietly, somehow keeping it between them.
With that, she left. She hurried to her car, started the fussy thing by pumping hard on the gas and somehow got out of the parking lot without hitting anything.
She considered not stopping. If she kept driving, she would land somewhere. She could start over in any small town. It didn’t have to be Dawson. This should have just been a stop, not a stopping place. She could have checked on Reese, seen that he was okay and moved on.
One bag was all she had to pack—one bag. It was all she had to her name. She had one bag, no one to turn to and no one waiting for her to come home.
* * *
The house smelled like roast and fresh bread. Reese eased down the stairs, going slow because there were nieces and nephews here for Sunday lunch and they had a bad habit of leaving things on the steps or tossed around the living room. Last week he’d stepped on someone’s favorite doll, nearly doing in the doll and himself in one fell swoop. It was another reason for moving back to his apartment. It was much safer, fewer obstacles.
“Hey, what’s up?” The loud voice came from the bottom of the steps. A lesser man would have screamed like a girl when that voice came at him out of the dark.
“Nice, Mia. Maybe next time use a bullhorn.”
She laughed, of course. “Stop being so sensitive, and give me a hug.”
And then her arms were around him, squeezing tight. His sister happened to be nearly his height when she wore those crazy heels of hers. To top it off, her arms were like bands of steel around his middle.
“Maybe try not to crack my ribs.” He gasped and managed to escape. “Where have you been for the past couple of weeks?”
“Staying close to Tulsa. Did you miss me?”
He had, actually. “No way.”
“Liar.”
“Probably. So help me get to the kitchen without breaking my neck.”
“Are you sure you want to go to the kitchen?” she leaned close and whispered.
“Do I not want to go to the kitchen? I smell roast and bread.”
“Yes, but can the inquisition be smelled?” She had hold of his arm. “Watch out, Barbie at twelve o’clock.”
“Good thing you came along when you did. Barbie and I would have had matching broken necks.”
She stepped away from him, and when she came back, her hand touched his, stopping him from moving forward. “You’re doing okay, right?”
“Of course I am. Eyesight is so overrated.”
“Don’t do that, Reese. Don’t pretend this is okay with you.”
“It isn’t okay with me. But what do you want me to say? I lost my eyesight. Guys in my unit lost their lives.” He was at home, surrounded by family. The families of those guys were struggling to come to terms with the fact that their soldiers wouldn’t come home.
“It wasn’t your fault.”
He patted the hand that rested on his arm. “I know and I’m surviving.”
“Have you thought about talking to the other families? Maybe the Bernard family, in Oklahoma City. They’re close enough to drive to.”
“What would I say to them? Sorry your son didn’t come back home and I did?”
“Maybe, if that would make you feel better.”
“It wouldn’t. Could you tell me what the inquisition is about so I can prepare a defense before I get in there?”
“Someone named Cheyenne.”
“Gotcha.”
“Reese...”
“Mia, let it go.” They were in the living room, and he proceeded with caution through the room. There could be toys—or someone listening.
“Is she important to you?” Mia pulled him to the left. “Barbie parked her car in the path.”
He managed to laugh. “Barbie is out to get me.”
“She’s been hanging out with G.I. Joe.”
“That’s how it starts.”
“And she’s important to you?”
“Barbie?” He shrugged. “No, not really. She’s a doll but really not my type.”
“Cheyenne, and stop deflecting. You of all people should know better.”
“Physician heal thyself? Or person with the major in psychology and counseling, counsel thyself? Of course I should know better. And she is important, but that’s all I plan to say.”
Mia stopped walking. Reese turned to find her. “I’m here for you, big brother.”
“I love you, Mia, and I’m good. So let’s get this over with.”
“It’s your life.” She giggled a little and reached to put his hand on her arm.
From the dining room he could hear conversation in the kitchen. He heard his name mentioned. Someone mentioned Cheyenne. Mia cleared her throat, loudly. He laughed a little at her lack of subtleness. Mia had never been subtle. She’d been Mia Nunez until she’d turned eight and became a Cooper. Her life had been rough, scraping to survive basically on her own. She still knew how to take care of herself, but the rough edges had been softened. She painted and illustrated children’s books in her spare time. She was a DEA agent and had a black belt.
“We’re coming in, so if this conversation is going to happen, I’m going to be a part of it.” Reese made the announcement as they walked into the kitchen. “And I’d like for everyone to leave but Mom and Dad.”
He heard footsteps, whispers and then silence. He smiled and laughed a little at the rapid exit. “Are they gone?”
“They’re gone.” His dad walked past him. “Do we need to sit down?”
“If you want.” He leaned against the counter, needing to stand up. He heard chairs scrape and knew his parents had decided to sit.
“I heard you’re moving back into your apartment. Are you ready for that?” His dad spoke from a short distance away.
“I think so. I have to do it sooner or later.”
“I think that’s good.” Tim Cooper was beating around the bush.
So much for the plan to keep this marriage between Cheyenne and himself. It would have made it easier. There would be less mess if they ended it quietly without everyone knowing and having an opinion. But this was his family. They didn’t hide things from each other. They worked together and helped each other through the hard times. And he knew that if Cheyenne needed them, they’d be there for her, too.
But where did he start? He guessed the best course of action would be to get it over with, jump right in with the facts.
“Cheyenne Jones is Cheyenne Cooper.” He drew out the words, waiting for it to sink in.
“How in the...?” His dad stopped. “What does that mean?”
“She’s your wife?” His mom’s tone said a whole lot.
“Yes, she’s my wife.”
“Well, this isn’t what I expected.” His dad cleared his throat and then chuckled a little. “How did this happen and when?”
“In Vegas before I went to Afghanistan.”
“Were you...?”
He shook his head, knowing what his dad wanted to ask. “This isn’t what you think. The baby isn’t mine. Cheyenne and I didn’t have a fling or anything else that comes to mind. She needed help, and I of
fered to marry her.”
“You married a complete stranger because she needed help?”
“She was pregnant with no one to turn to. I didn’t know what would happen to me in Afghanistan. It seemed like a good way to help her. She could be on my insurance and be my beneficiary if something should happen to me.”
“And what was the plan for when you came home?” Tim Cooper no longer sounded amused. Reese turned toward his dad, wishing they could make eye contact, wishing he could read his dad’s expression. Maybe he didn’t want to see the disappointment, though.
“The plan is the same as it was when Cheyenne and I made this arrangement. After the baby is born, we’ll get an annulment.”
“That’s it? You think it will be that simple to sign a paper and push this young woman from your life?” His dad’s tone said as much as his expression would have. Reese sighed.
Simple? No, he no longer thought it would be that simple. In Vegas they’d been strangers who’d happened to meet and make a bargain. Now? He had to admit that Cheyenne could no longer be counted a stranger. She’d stepped front and center into his life. It had started with the letters she’d written him—funny and sweet, a little bit sad. She’d managed to touch him with her stories.
“I hadn’t planned on her being in my life.” He needed a glass of tea and a minute to get his head on straight.
“Can I get you something?” his mom asked as he walked through the kitchen.
“I can do it.” He found a glass and then turned to the fridge for ice. “I can get a glass of iced tea. I can take care of the situation with Cheyenne. I want her to be able to stay here and build a life for herself when this is over. I want her to be accepted and cared for by the people in this family.”
He turned, touched the pitcher of tea on the counter and poured it in his glass.
“We’ll do what we can for her.” His mom walked up behind him and hugged him for a brief moment. “We’re all here to help.”
“I know. That’s why I’m telling you. She doesn’t have family, and she’s going to need our help.”
“Reese, don’t rush into this annulment.”
The Rancher's Secret Wife Page 6