She couldn’t afford to fix this old truck. She couldn’t afford to get sick. She couldn’t afford the payments on the loan she’d taken out on the farm. But she’d had to do it. They’d needed a new roof. The farm had been paid off and the bank had felt secure giving her a line of credit. She’d had her job in Grove for six years.
Who would have thought she’d lose it a month after getting the loan?
With no other options, she headed down the road in the direction of the farm. She glanced at her watch, shivering with cold and apprehension. It was eight-thirty. She’d be home by nine. Maybe.
The lights of town faded as she walked. The cold of the pavement seeped into her feet, leaving them numb. The bonus was that they no longer hurt. Her hands burned. Her face ached from the cold and from clenching her jaw.
Ten minutes into the walk, her whole body ached from shivering. She kept trudging on in the dark.
Headlights flashed, coming toward her. She kept walking. The truck slowed as it drew nearer. She sighed as it came to a halt next to her. The door flew open and Gage jumped out.
“What in the world are you doing?”
She looked up at him, teeth chattering. “Walking.”
“Layla, why in the world didn’t you call?”
“I don’t have a cell phone.”
“Someone in town would have let you use their phone. Or given you a ride.”
“Probably, but I didn’t want to bother anyone. Besides, it isn’t that far. I’ve walked it before. Do we have to stand here and talk?”
He opened the passenger door of the truck. “Get in.”
She didn’t argue. She climbed into the truck, moving the vents so they blew directly at her. The warmth seeped back into her body. Gage got in and headed to her place.
Two minutes later they pulled into her drive. “It wouldn’t have taken me long.”
Gage didn’t answer. He got out and walked around to her side of the truck to pull the door open. “No, just long enough to freeze. Or get hit and left on the side of the road. Or abducted.”
“I never realized you were such an optimist.” She looked up at him, fighting the sting of tears. The heat had thawed her body and her nose. It had also obviously thawed her emotions. She sniffled and walked past him.
He didn’t leave. Of course he didn’t. He followed her to the house, marching up the steps of her tiny front porch and pulling the door open.
“Where were you?” he asked as he followed her in.
She kicked off her shoes and limped through the living room. “Working for Vera. Now I need to put on boots and head to the barn.”
“Brandon took care of the chores.”
She swallowed a lump of emotion and kept walking. She couldn’t stand there and look at him, not when she felt raw, and he looked like a man ready to hug a woman. She had to pull herself together. A cup of tea. She needed tea. Ginger tea. It would settle her nerves and her stomach.
Gage didn’t take the hint. He followed her into her tiny kitchen, where he seemed too tall and took up too much space.
“Where’s Brandon?” The house was too quiet.
“In his room. He has homework.”
She didn’t know what to say. To fill the void, she reached into the cabinet and pulled out two cups. “Do you want tea?”
“Let me do it.” He took the cup from her hand, their fingers brushing in the process. It was a simple gesture, she told herself. She’d touched plenty of hands today. Making change. Taking menus from customers. It didn’t mean anything.
Until now, when he looked down at her, his gaze soft and far too understanding.
“I really can take care of myself.”
“I know you can.” He said it like he meant it. “But sometimes you could let people help.”
“Gage, this goes above and beyond. It was a long time ago. It wasn’t the end of the world for me. It was a lesson learned. And it didn’t work out that great for you, either, did it? Cheryl never really liked you.”
He laughed and took the cup, pouring cold water in it and putting it in the microwave. “Sit down. And thank you for reminding me.”
“It’s the truth. And you’ve done enough. You fixed my fence. You’ve helped my brother. The debt is paid. Your conscience should be cleared. Go rebuild that chicken pen for Jack Morris.”
To her delight he turned a little pink beneath his tan. “I didn’t think fireworks would set the thing on fire.”
“You were very bad.”
He was rummaging in her cabinet. She watched him as she sat down at the table.
“What are you doing?” she finally asked. The timer on the microwave beeped. He took out the cup and dropped a tea bag into the water.
And then he went back to rummaging. He found an aluminum roasting pan she’d bought to cook a turkey and turned on the hot water. Next he pulled out a gallon pitcher. She didn’t know what to say.
What could she say when he set the pan down in front of her and filled it with warm water. He went back to the cabinet and found salt. Really, salt?
She still couldn’t comment. He brought her tea. He brought a towel from the drawer and then he pointed to the pan.
“What are you doing?” she asked again.
“You’re soaking your feet.”
Heat climbed into her cheeks as she stared at him and then at the pan of water. He pointed and she couldn’t move. Gage sighed.
“I can’t kneel.” He pointed to the brace on his leg, “Or I would put your feet in the water for you. As it is, you’re going to have to do this. But I promise you’ll feel a lot better.”
Her eyes filled with tears that she couldn’t blink away.
Gage dropped the towel on the table and for a long minute he stared at her as tears rolled down her cheeks. After a heart-stopping moment he leaned. His hand brushed her cheek, and then gently swiped away a tear that trickled down. She wanted to say his name, but couldn’t.
She should have told him to stop. But her heart wouldn’t let her. Her poor, lonely heart.
When he leaned in close, she held her breath. Her eyes closed while hot tears traced a path down her still-frozen cheeks. His lips touched hers, salty from her tears. Somehow, her hands moved from her lap to his neck. Her fingers twirled in the soft strands of hair at his collar.
His lips continued to move over hers, whisper-soft, then moved to her cheek, and then her ear. She heard him whisper her name as he leaned, still cupping her cheek in his hand.
“Now,” he whispered, “put your feet in the water before it gets cold and I have to start all over again.”
She nodded and moved her feet. She looked up. Gage had straightened, but he was still standing close. He picked up the cup of tea and placed it in her hands.
“I should go,” he said.
She blinked a few times at the announcement.
“Okay.”
He brushed a hand through hair that just moments earlier she’d had her hands tangled in. Soft hair. And he smelled good, like soap, spices and lime.
She probably smelled like fried chicken.
Of course he wanted to leave. He was Gage Cooper and she was Layla Silver, the girl who had believed him when he said they were friends. But she had believed her heart more when it said that Gage could be more than a friend.
“I’ll give you a ride to work in the morning and then we’ll see what we can do with your truck.”
“Gage, you don’t have to do that.”
“I know that I don’t.”
“Really?” She somehow managed a smile.
“Really.” He leaned in, and kissed her cheek. “See you tomorrow.”
After he left she sat for a long time, holding a cup of tea that had gone cold, her feet soaking in water that was no longer warm.
* * *
Gage woke up early the next morning. He had something to do but he couldn’t remember what. His dad had mentioned moving cattle from one section of pasture to another. They were expecting a buyer for a couple of younger bulls they were selling off.
He sat up on the edge of the bed and reached for the brace that he was just about tired of. He’d considered going without it, but he didn’t want to go through surgery again.
The alarm clock went off, playing loud country music. He slammed his hand down on the buzzer and fought the urge to go back to sleep. Then it hit him. What he had to do. He had to be at Layla’s. That’s what he’d been trying to remember.
How could he forget that?
And how could he forget a kiss that shouldn’t have happened? Man, he was losing it. He’d meant to help Layla. Then last night, he’d thought he should take care of her. He guessed it had been a long time since someone had taken care of her.
Layla Silver was about the sweetest woman he’d ever met. If a guy was so inclined, she’d be the kind he wanted to marry. But she deserved better than a guy who was just passing through.
He guessed his mom was right, all the times she’d told him he’d grow up and start to think about other people. She had faith in him. He smiled as he walked down the stairs and headed for the kitchen. It was barely six in the morning, but he could hear her moving around, humming softly. “Amazing Grace.” He smiled, because some things never changed, and he was glad.
“Morning, Gage.” She poured two cups of coffee and handed him one as he walked into the kitchen. “Sleep good?”
“Yeah, better than I deserve.” He took the coffee and grabbed a slice of toast off the plate.
“I can make eggs.”
“No, toast is fine. I need to run.”
“Where are you going so early?”
Did he tell her the truth or pretend he didn’t hear? He smiled, knowing how that would end for him. He couldn’t even avoid looking at her.
“I’m taking Layla to work. I found her walking home last night, half-frozen. Her truck wouldn’t start.”
“She’s never been good at asking for help.” His mom shook her head. “I think she learned at an early age to keep things to herself.”
“I guess she did.” He downed his coffee, because he needed to go and he knew where this conversation was heading.
“Gage, be careful.”
Yep, there it went. “I’m careful, Mom.”
“Honey, you can charm apples off a tree without trying. Layla is vulnerable. She’s been taking care of herself and Brandon for so long, and there you are, helping. She might get the wrong idea.”
“I don’t think she will. I think Layla has the right idea. She’d prefer to keep me out of her life.” But he remembered that kiss last night. It didn’t take much to realize he might be the one getting wrong ideas.
He turned to look out the window, because his mom had a way of seeing things. She knew how to read her kids, their expressions, their body language. She sometimes knew them better than they knew themselves.
What would she see if she got a good look in his eyes? He had to get out of the kitchen before she got too close. Or asked questions that made him think more than he wanted to.
Avoiding her wasn’t easy, though. He managed to get a thermal cup, fill it with coffee and grab another slice of toast as he headed for the door.
“Later, Mom.”
“You be careful.” Being the woman she was, she laughed as he hightailed it out of the house.
Chapter Eight
Layla worked her second shift at the Mad Cow Tuesday evening. It had been a long, long day. Gage had shown up early that morning, helping her feed and making sure Brandon got on the school bus. She’d put an end to him catching a ride with friends. He’d skipped too many days, and the school was threatening action because he had gone over the allotted number of days a student could be absent.
How had she not known that?
As she finished cleaning her workstation at the diner, thoughts were swirling around in her head. What if he’d been better off with foster parents? It was probably too late to be questioning the judge who had given a nineteen-year-old custody of an eight-year-old.
“Hey, you look like you’re carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders tonight.” Vera walked up behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder as she talked. “Try to get some rest and enjoy your day off tomorrow.”
“I’ll try.”
“You need to take care of yourself, Layla. Vera’s orders. Sleep.” Vera patted her shoulder. “And if you need to talk, I’m here.”
Layla nodded and finished wiping down the workstation.
Vera frowned. “You do realize, don’t you, that you’re not giving God the chance to help you through this.”
“I’m sorry?” She blinked, trying to focus.
“Layla, honey, I know you pray. I know you believe that God can and will help you through all situations. But I also know that you think Layla Silver is a rock unto herself. And when you think that way, then you aren’t trusting the solid rock.”
Ouch.
Vera gave her a quick hug. “Honey, let God help. And accept the help of the people He brings into your life.”
“It should be getting easier, Vera. But it isn’t.”
Vera stood there for a minute watching her clean. And then she put a hand over Layla’s, stopping her. Layla looked up, meeting the kindness in Vera’s dark eyes.
“Layla, I knew your folks from the time we were all little kids in Dawson. I knew your dad and his bad habits. I knew the bruises he put on your mama. And I know that she was a private person and taught you to be one. But there’s no shame in asking for help. Your mama should have taught you that.”
Layla nodded, and looked away. A wave of heartache swept over her. Vera didn’t push. She took her hand off Layla’s and waited.
“She never wanted people to know.”
“But they knew. They just didn’t know how to help. But they would have if she’d asked. And now I’m telling you, people want to help you, too.”
“Thanks, Vera.”
“Are you thanking me for that good advice?” Vera smiled big. “Or are you thanking me so I’ll stop talking?”
She stored lettuce in the cooler and closed the sliding door slowly, trying to find the right answer “I’m thanking you for the good advice.”
“That’s good, because I just saw Gage drive your truck over from the feed store. He must have gotten it running for you.”
She tried but couldn’t stifle a groan. “Is he still out there?”
“No, he hopped in with Jackson. I imagine he left the keys in it. Don’t let that Gage Cooper get under your skin.”
Layla smiled. “I won’t.”
A short time later she left the café. There was a note on the seat of her truck telling her to pick Brandon up at Cooper Creek. She started her truck and gave it a few minutes to warm up before taking off.
When she pulled up to Cooper Creek Ranch, lights were blazing in the barn. There were several trucks lined up in the driveway. Whoops and hollers greeted her as she stepped out of her truck. She heard the clank of metal gates and the low moo of bulls, making it pretty obvious: they were bucking bulls.
It didn’t take much to know that her brother was on the back of a bull. She walked into the stable, past stalls of quarter horses worth more than her house. She headed toward the arena, and when she got to the gate she stopped to watch.
Gage stood on the back of a chute, leaning over her brother. He was pulling the bull rope for Brandon. At least Brandon wore a helmet this time. Travis stood in the arena. He saw her, then shouted something to Gage.
A few others looked her way. She saw a couple of neighbor boys
as well as Wyatt Johnson, pastor of the Dawson Community Church. He was probably there for a reason. When Gage got an idea, he sure didn’t let go.
Later she would probably thank him for that.
She walked through the gate and around behind the chutes as her brother spun out into the arena on the back of a big, gray bull. She continued watching as she headed for the risers where a small crowd watched the action, clapping and cheering for the riders.
Gage caught up with her as Brandon went off the side of the bull, scrambling to get on his feet and then running like crazy while Travis distracted the one-ton animal and kept it from running her little brother into the ground.
“He’s doing great.” Gage offered as he walked next to her.
“I’m sure he is.” She took a deep breath, released it and looked at the man who had taken care of her last night. He’d run hot water for her to soak her feet. He’d made her a cup of tea. He’d kissed her until she couldn’t think straight.
Now it was as if none of it had ever happened. How did he do that?
“Did your truck run okay?”
She nodded. “Yes, thank you. That’s what I’d meant to say, but I got sidetracked, watching my little brother on the back of a bull. Not a steer.”
Gage flashed that famous Cooper grin. “Yeah, that would kind of leave you speechless.”
“I need to get him and go home.”
“The two of us took care of feeding. Hey, why don’t we trailer that mare of yours out here tomorrow and ride her in the arena?”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “No reason. I know you’re working her, and that’s hard to do in this weather.”
“I don’t know, Gage.” She glanced back to the arena, to the next kid sitting on a bull. Jackson was pulling the bull rope as the boy tried to get his seat on an animal that seemed pretty intent on getting him off before the gate even opened. “You should go help Jackson.”
“Think about my offer.” He shot her another grin that made her knees go weak.
“I will.” No. She wouldn’t think about it. She couldn’t.
The Cowboy's Christmas Courtship Page 8