“Oh, I saw that when I assembled the unit, but I figured the tank would fill faster if it was fully open.”
“Well, if you’ve never operated one of these before, all the moving parts take some getting used to.”
Willow’s gaze strayed to the blanket. “Coop, where’s Lily?”
“I don’t know. She was there a minute ago.” He pushed up his sunglasses and scanned the area beneath the tree where she’d been sitting. The boxes lay there, but both the girl and her rabbit were gone.
“Weren’t you watching her?” Willow asked.
He frowned. “You didn’t ask me to.”
“I assumed you would.” Willow’s voice rose in panic as she whirled one way, then the other. “She never wanders off. But you’re right. It’s my fault.” Willow ran around the corner of the house.
“It’s no one’s fault,” Coop said, putting the sprayer down before jogging to catch up. “She probably followed you inside.”
“I didn’t see her.”
“Go look again. She could’ve gotten hot and thirsty.”
Willow’s eyes reflected nothing but fear. “Lily doesn’t think like that, Cooper. I have to remind her about those kinds of basic wants and needs.” She rushed up the back steps and hurried into the house.
Coop walked over to the trees. At first he worried that she might have gone into the woods, but the underbrush was thick and nothing looked disturbed. No twigs bent or broken. He turned as Willow ran back out.
“She’s not inside.” Alarm raised the volume of Willow’s voice. “She’s never gone off by herself. Oh, God, Coop, where could she be?”
“Did you check her favorite spot on the front porch? I’m sure I would’ve seen her if she went around past me. But she could’ve gone through the house.”
“Yes, I did look there. Would you have noticed if she went toward the barn?” Willow shaded her eyes against the bright afternoon sun.
“Yes, and the same if she’d headed for the road.”
“That leaves the meadow where you’ve been working on the fence,” Willow said, breaking into a run.
“Hold on. Let’s ride up there on Legend,” Coop shouted. “We’ll cover the ground faster.”
“Okay, but hurry, please! The pond’s on the way. And Lily has no fear of water.” Willow’s voice broke. “I wasn’t gone ten minutes. She usually sits in one spot for hours.”
He swung into the saddle and rode to where Willow was charging up the hill. Coop leaned down, caught her around the waist and swung her up to sit in front of him. Touching his heels to the gelding, they trotted off.
“Go faster, will you?”
“The ground’s full of gopher holes. It’s too easy for a horse to break a leg. Anyway, if we go more slowly, we can both keep our eyes peeled. She was wearing a red shirt and orange pants, right? She should stand out from quite a distance.”
“She’d wear that same outfit day in and day out if I’d let her.”
“I’ve noticed she likes that shirt.” Coop zigzagged the horse to cover more territory. “You need a dog. One trained to watch over Lily. A service dog.”
“Like I need one more mouth to feed. Don’t you buy her a dog, Cooper. Oh, where is she?” Willow twisted from side to side. “Could she have come this far? How long was she out of your sight?”
“I wish I knew. Damn, I should’ve grabbed my binoculars from the pickup.”
“Coop!” Willow grabbed the saddle horn and glanced back at him, her color draining. “The herd is coming down to the pond for water. What if she accidentally crosses their path? She could be trampled!”
“Don’t borrow trouble, Willow.”
“Easy for you to say. She’s not your daughter.”
“Do you think that makes me care any less?” Even as the statement left his lips, Coop recognized that it was true.
Willow went still as Coop’s arms tightened around her waist. Heat from his body surrounded her. It was comforting in a way she hadn’t experienced in a long, long while.
“I didn’t mean to insult you, Coop. All I meant was that mothers and their children share a special bond from birth. And…and I’m panicking.”
“Me, too. I’m sure she was on the blanket when I went to shut off the water at the faucet. Then poof, you noticed she was gone. Willow, look! To your left. By that broken rail fence. Under the redbud tree. It’s Lily. She’s sitting in a patch of flowers nearly as high as her head.”
“I see her!” Willow let out a low cry of heartfelt relief and struggled to get down from the horse.
Reining in, Coop swung down, reached up and lifted Willow to the ground. She slid the length of his body, and ever so briefly they clasped each other, sharing an instant of joy.
Coop came close to whooping and spinning her around. As he held her close he met her eyes and saw the questions flickering there. Questions about his hug and his body’s automatic reaction. Those were questions Coop wasn’t prepared to answer. He attributed his purely male response to the emotions involved in Lily’s disappearance. Emotions they’d shared during the ride. Making more of it pushed things farther than they should go. He’d dismissed those old feelings years ago. Releasing her, Coop stepped back. “Go,” he said gruffly. “Get her home. I’ll steer the herd away, then work on the fence until suppertime.”
“Sure. All right.” Willow stumbled in her haste to not only reach Lily, but also hide the inappropriate response that had welled up in her unexpectedly. She knew better. Knew Coop didn’t feel about her the way she’d always felt about him. She ran toward her daughter, deciding that any relationship with Cooper Drummond was just too complicated.
Reaching the child, Willow dropped to her knees. If only she could pour out her pent-up feelings by hugging her. But Lily didn’t enjoy close contact. And she disliked being interrupted.
“Hiya, babe.” Willow sat back and let her pounding heart slow as she joined her daughter in picking wildflowers. “You haven’t the faintest idea that you scared your mama half to death. And Coop, too. His hide’s not so tough when it comes to you.” Willow glanced toward him and couldn’t resist a half smile.
*
FROM ACROSS THE FIELD, Coop turned the milling herd to the upper end of the pond. His eyes strayed often to the pair seated amid the colorful flowers. Sunlight broke through branches of the redbud tree to form crowns of light around the two on the ground. The woman’s blond hair was a pale cloud in the dancing light, while the child’s shone with an almond-brown luster.
Coop’s stomach tensed when he saw Willow tilt back her head, her neck white and inviting. He thought he heard her laughter as she set a circle of flowers on Lily’s curls.
An invisible hand seemed to grab his heart, squeezing it. How could Tate—how could any man—not feel privileged to have them as his family? Now that the worry for Lily’s safety was over, Coop realized how frightened he’d been.
Cursing under his breath, he pulled on his gloves and picked up a sledgehammer, what he felt for Willow and Tate Walker’s daughter confused him. He would never have imagined he could feel such a connection to Tate’s child. The next time he looked up, Willow and Lily were gone and the sun dipped low in the west, streaking the horizon with the same gold that reminded him of Willow’s hair.
He’d hammered out most of his anxieties by afternoon’s end. He hadn’t fully reconciled all his confusion, but maybe he’d stepped over the hard line he thought he’d drawn to separate him from the old feelings he’d held for Willow. He began to head downhill so he could clean up for supper. Maybe it was time to test his rekindled interest in the lady of the house.
*
AFTER FILLING HIS BELLY, Coop took out his guitar. He was feeling a lot more mellow and his mood led him to play a series of love songs. He heard the screen door open and stopped strumming “Dream a Little Dream of Me.” Cooper expected to see Willow, but it was Lily watching him. He continued to play and she edged nearer as he softened the chords. A moment later she set her hand on hi
s knee and cocked her head as if to absorb the sound. Afraid to break the spell he nevertheless changed tempo. She seemed to like the more energetic beat; her eyes brightened, and Coop saw the corners of her lips curve up in a smile. It was the first time he’d seen any change in her expression, and he got so excited, he forgot to play.
From inside, Willow called out for Lily. She burst through the door and grabbed the girl. “There you are, honey bunny,” she exclaimed, relief in her shaky voice.
“Willow.” Coop caught her hand. “Lily came out to listen to my music. She walked right up and put her hand on my knee and then…she smiled.”
“Cooper, stop it. I know I accused you of allowing her to run off and I’m sorry. But there’s no need to make up stories to appease me. I’m well aware that Lily doesn’t react to what goes on around her. And what happened today reinforces that I need to be even more vigilant and not let her out of my sight.”
Coop put his guitar back in its case. He heard Willow’s pain, and because of that he made an effort to sound reasonable. “Why would I lie to you, Willow? I swear Lily likes music. And…maybe she likes me,” he said, feeling a little defensive. However, he might as well have been talking to the wind. Willow went into the house, shutting the door, shutting him out.
Chapter Seven
Uneasy about the way they’d left things the night before, Coop—who usually plunged whole-hog into every endeavor—decided to take this slower, this exploration of his onetime relationship with Willow. The relationship prior to their series of bitter arguments over his chosen career and her subsequent defection to Tate Walker. She could have picked any other man of Cooper’s acquaintance and Coop would be able to forgive and forget. But Tate had been a burr under his saddle from the day Bart Walker bought the land bordering the Drummond ranch, and the boys, both eight at the time, squared off across a roan mare Coop had raised from a filly. It’d been his first real love affair with a horse, and Tate was climbing onto the roan. It was clear to Coop that his neighbor planned to steal the horse Coop hadn’t branded yet because he couldn’t bear to mar her beautiful, dark red coat.
Tate first claimed he was returning the horse, saying he found her running loose on his dad’s property. But Coop knew a fence that had been separated with wire cutters when he saw one. He knew a thief when he looked one in the eyes. And he knew a brazen lie when he heard it. In Coop’s estimation, Tate had never reformed and the two had a chilly association from that day forward. How could Willow not have known that, since she was so often at the center of later animosity? Maybe she had been clueless, given how busy and absorbed she always was.
Instead of slamming the door against any and all conversation concerning Tate, he should’ve asked her why she’d married the jerk. Another woman might have deliberately married his nemesis to cause maximum hurt to the guy who didn’t do what she wanted. Willow wasn’t like that. Cruelty wasn’t in her DNA.
All of the thoughts that had been rocketing through Coop’s head continued as he stripped and hosed down at the end of what had been another arduous workday.
Clean and refreshed, he slung his guitar case over his back and followed his nose across the yard to the porch. It was obvious Willow was cooking supper.
The shadier front of the house hadn’t yet dried from the power washing Willow had done that day, so he couldn’t take his usual spot on the top step. Nothing had been returned to the porch, including the orange crate where Willow placed his meals. Or maybe she was still annoyed at him and had decided not to feed him tonight.
Coop contemplated their previous day. If she was mad at him, he was probably to blame. As he debated whether or not to knock, the screen door flew open and Willow backed out carrying one of her kitchen chairs. He was unable to get out of her way fast enough, and she crashed into him.
“Oof! Coop, I didn’t see you. Why were you sneaking up behind me?” Willow lost her purchase on the chair; together they lunged for it as the chair spun and tilted, nearly toppling them both. Coop grabbed a post and saved them from falling off the porch.
“If that chair is meant for me, wouldn’t it be easier if I just come inside and ate at your kitchen table?”
“You know my rules, Coop.”
“They’d make sense if your hired hand was a stranger. Don’t you trust me?”
“It’s not a matter of trust. I told you Lily is a picky eater. She might not eat at all if I disrupted her routine.”
“That’s bogus. She ate chicken strips at the restaurant and we all sat at the same table. And last evening she smiled at me whether you choose to believe it or not.”
Willow rolled her eyes. “The chair is here, and I have your plate ready,” she said, obviously not budging, because she hurried into the house again.
Coop rested his guitar case against the porch railing and moved the chair around until he found a flat spot.
“I saw you making daisy chains with Lily yesterday after we found her,” Coop said the minute Willow returned with his covered plate. “For all the worry she caused us, I…well, I know it’s not for me to say, but how does making playtime out of a bad situation teach her it’s wrong to wander off like she did?”
“Are you suggesting I should have spanked her or something?”
“Of course not! I’d never advocate hitting a kid. But wasn’t it a situation where child experts would recommend a time-out? I’ve only seen them interviewed on TV programs, mind you,” he said to keep Willow from asking what made him an authority, as she was plainly about to do.
She crossed her arms. “Normal rules for raising children don’t apply to kids with autism. Experience has taught me that if Lily senses my displeasure, it can cause a meltdown. You haven’t witnessed one of those. Someone who didn’t know her condition might call it a tantrum. Meltdowns are more than tantrums. They can go on until she wears out. And, in the end, there’s no understanding on her part. She doesn’t realize how she screamed and carried on. A book I bought says it’s a lack of deductive reasoning. She has a brain disorder, Cooper.”
“I know that. I’m trying to understand.”
“So am I. Sorry if I get my hackles up. I want to help her so badly, and it kills me that I don’t know how.” She gestured to the plate he still held. “You’d better eat before your pot roast gets cold.”
“Ah, that’s what I smelled. You should go on in and eat, too. But can I borrow the book you mentioned?”
Willow shrugged. “There’s a lot of technical jargon to wade through. I don’t know why you’d want to read it. I mean, you’ll be leaving in a day or two.”
Well, that hurt. Coop tried not to show it. “I didn’t pick up any more reading material on our last trip to town. Besides, I may be here longer than a day or two. It’ll take three to finish the fence, and I haven’t had a chance to call around and see which trucking outfit will give us the best price to take your steers to the stockyard. Or have you made those calls?”
She shook her head. “I’ve never sold so many head at one time. The feed-store owner always located buyers for one or two steers and the buyers came here.”
“It doesn’t work that way when you unload a whole herd. Don’t worry, Willow. I’ll try to call around tomorrow. In another week, they’ll be fat enough to bring in top dollar, but they need to be vaccinated with booster antibiotics and branded before you sell them.”
“I didn’t realize that. I guess I’m not a very good rancher.” She went inside then, but her comment made Coop wonder about what Willow planned to do after she sold her herd. Ideally selling the cattle would coincide with selling the ranch. But how would she manage if the ranch didn’t sell right away? Hanging on to the place would drain all the proceeds from the beef sale. If Coop could find time to work with the mare and colt he’d seen, they could bring in some ready cash. The horses weren’t wild, but they weren’t tame, either. And the mare wasn’t branded. The colt had good lines. If he was going back to the Triple D after he left here, he’d want to start breeding horses
again. A mare and her sturdy colt might be a good first acquisition. If he was going back to the Triple D. At some point he had to, if for no other reason than to clear the air between him and Sully.
Coop enjoyed every bite of Willow’s savory pot roast, potatoes and carrots. He’d have enjoyed the meal more with company, but that was wishful thinking. He was a social person, and here, the long, empty hours of solitude were beginning to get to him. Coop supposed he’d face the same lonely existence if he moved home. Sullivan and Blythe both led busy lives. He’d probably have to move into the older house where he’d grown up. It was a house meant for a family.
Sobering at his own thoughts, Coop set his empty plate aside, took out his guitar and kicked back in the chair. He started in with a song that matched his feelings.
Willow came out and took his plate then went in again, quietly closing the screen door behind her.
Part way into a lullaby frequently used by cowboys to calm restless herds during roundups, Coop noticed that Lily had pushed open the screen. Freshly scrubbed, ready for bed, she held her rabbit by its ear and somberly watched him play.
Coop spoke softly to her. “You like music, Lily B? I think so. Can you say music? It’s kind of a hard word. Mu..si..c,” he said again, stretching out the syllables.
She slipped out and cautiously moved closer. Pleased, Coop segued from one song to another. He was running out of tunes he knew off the top of his head, so it was probably just as well that they both heard Willow calling Lily’s name. The girl scampered back to the door, but her big, luminous eyes never left the guitar or Coop’s hands.
The Maverick Returns Page 8