A Cowboy to Come Home To

by Donna Alward

  These days the fall weather made her want to do all sorts of nesting things, like baking and freezing and canning and knitting. It was silly, because why would she bother freezing and canning for herself? Maybe if she had a family, a few kids running around...

  She shook her head and focused on the house in front of her. She had a good life. Maybe it hadn’t turned out exactly as she’d planned, but she had a thriving business and a nice, if small, home. She had good friends and a lot to be thankful for.

  She looked up at the unfinished structure before her. Things could definitely be worse. Take, for instance, Stu Dickinson and his family. They were going to own this house when it was finished. The Dickinsons had been living in a cheap duplex rental in town when it had burned and they’d lost everything. With his wife suffering from multiple sclerosis and unable to work, Stu was the sole breadwinner for them and their two kids. Tenant’s insurance had made it possible for them to replace necessities, but they were struggling to make ends meet.

  Which was where a local charity organization came in.

  Melissa wasn’t that great with power tools, but she’d signed up to volunteer now that the house was framed. She had no idea what she’d be doing today, but the coordinator had assured her that she’d be fine and that someone would show her exactly what to do.

  When she stepped inside the house, the racket was unbelievable. The shrill whine of a saw rang in her ears, followed by a bang and the sound of male voices.

  “Hello?” she called out in a brief moment of silence, putting her purse by the door. The room on her left had been finished with Sheetrock and had had its cracks filled, but not painted. The one on the right was still only framed and the wiring was visible, including electrical outlets and dangling wires for an overhead light fixture.

  Boots sounded at the back of the house and she wiped her hands on her jeans. “Hello?” a voice returned.

  A strange feeling slithered through her stomach in the instant before the man appeared.

  “You!” she exclaimed. Oh, wasn’t this just her luck! Twice in one week, no less.

  Cooper halted in the doorway to the hall. “Oh,” he answered, his face going completely blank for the space of a second. “You’re volunteering today?”

  She nodded. He sounded as pleased about it as she was. “And I take it you are, too?”

  He nodded in turn.

  She couldn’t back out now. For one, she’d committed to volunteering. And two, if she did withdraw, Cooper would know it was all because of him. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

  At some point it might be good if they could be in the same room together without her wanting to spit in his eye.

  He took off his gloves. “Stu works for me. Least I can do is help out, you know?”

  Melissa blinked. “I would have thought things were too busy out at your place.” Cooper’s ranch was profitable and his reputation for breeding great stock horses was growing. Ranchers from all over the prairies and northern states came to the Double C for their cutting and working horses.

  “Sure it’s busy. But I don’t run it alone. I have good men working for me. They know what they’re doing and I trust them. You know what it’s like. You must have someone working the shop this morning.”

  She did. Against her better judgment she’d hired Amy Wilkins on a part-time basis. Amy’s reputation around town wasn’t always the greatest, but Melissa had taken a chance and given the vivacious blonde a try. So far she’d worked out well. She was a fast learner and was good with the customers. The only thing she couldn’t do was arrange flowers, so Melissa had gone in early to do up the day’s orders and make sure the cooler was filled with prearranged bouquets for walk-in sales.

  “So, is there someone here to tell me what I need to do?”

  Cooper grinned. “Yep. Me, for now. The bedrooms are all painted, and we’ve just finished laying the floor in the master. How are you with a brad nailer? We’ve got the baseboard and crown molding ready to go.”

  Melissa hesitated. Couldn’t he install the trim while she worked with someone else? The last thing she wanted was to spend the next four hours in the same room with Coop.

  “Melissa.”

  His rough voice pulled her back. “What?”

  “Is it so bad? Really?”

  She met his gaze. He wasn’t smiling, wasn’t making fun or trying to be charming—for once. He was dead serious. He shifted his gloves from one hand to the other—was he nervous? He hadn’t aged, other than a few lines in the corners of his eyes that were more likely from the sun and wind than time passing. He still looked so much like the boy she’d laughed with over the years. Though she wouldn’t admit it out loud in a thousand years, she missed that guy. Once upon a time she’d called him her best friend.

  “You remind me,” she said coolly. “You remind me, okay? Of how stupid and naive I once was.”

  “I’m sorry about that.” He took a step forward. “But I can’t change it. We’re grown-ups. Surely we can manage to work together for a few hours without killing each other.”

  He was right. “Yeah, well, this place isn’t about you or me, so we just have to suck it up, right? Besides, I don’t know much about construction, so it appears I get to swallow my pride and let you boss me around.”

  He smiled then, a crooked upturn of his lips that reached his eyes. “Like I could ever tell you what to do.”

  The air hummed between them for a few minutes. Briefly, Melissa missed the way things used to be, the easy rapport they had shared. Cooper had been a tease, though she’d always known that his flirting meant nothing. It had been safe to banter back and forth because he was Scott’s best friend as well as hers. He’d given the toast at their wedding, for Pete’s sake.

  She ignored his last statement and checked her watch. “Shouldn’t we get started? I only have until one o’clock, when I have to be back at the shop.”

  He led the way to the master bedroom, pausing briefly to introduce her to the other people working there, installing oak hardwood in the other bedrooms. To her surprise she saw Callum Shepard, a local dairy farmer and newcomer to town, and Rhys Bullock, Martha Bullock’s son and one of the hands over at Diamondback Ranch. The big surprise was that they were being bossed around by Chelsea Smith, whose father owned the hardware store.

  After the hellos, Melissa followed Cooper to the back bedroom, pausing in the doorway to admire what had already been done. The walls were the shade of her favorite vanilla latte, and the rich color of the hardwood looked lovely against it. There were windows in two walls, providing a view of the distant Rockies in one direction and a view of the creek valley that ran to the north in the other.

  “This is nice,” she said, stepping in and hearing her boots echo on the wood floor.

  “Stu deserves it. They were already struggling to make ends meet, and then to lose all their belongings... Sometimes life just isn’t fair. I’m glad they were able to get this going and I’m happy to help. He’s a good man and a good worker. He deserved a break.”

  It was easier to dismiss Coop when he was being deliberately charming. When he was sincere it was hard to remember why she resented him so much.

  Lengths of baseboard were stretched across the floor, and a saw was set up on a heavy drop cloth. A loud drone filled the room as the air compressor fired up.

  Cooper saw to filling the air nailer and then reached for his measuring tape. “Hold this here,” he commanded, leaving her with one end. Together they measured the wall, then measured the baseboard—twice—and Cooper marked it with a carpenter’s pencil.

  She held the end while he made the first cut, then angled the other side with the miter saw so the next piece would match up in the corner.

  Together they moved the piece to the wall, putting it flush against the end cap of the woodwork in the doorway.
“Okay, now you’re on. I’ll hold it in place and you nail it.”

  “Me?”

  “Sure, you. Take the nailer and press it against that hollow part there.” He pointed to the curve in the baseboard design. “Is it pressed all the way in? Okay, now squeeze the trigger.”

  With a loud snap, the nailer jerked in her hand. “Is that right?”

  “Looks good to me. Keep going.”

  The tool felt odd in her hand, and the noise was loud, especially when the compressor kicked in again. But it was kind of fun, nailing the molding into place. They had to adjust a cut when working their way around the doorway for the walk-in closet, but for the moment Melissa forgot about how much she disliked Cooper, and simply focused on the job.

  They worked in relative silence as they finished the baseboard, and then moved on to the crown molding. This was harder, getting the angle just right. It took a few tries with each piece, and nailing it in place was awkward when Melissa had to hold the nailer above her head.

  It was after twelve when they finished. She stood back as Cooper took a tube of wood filler and touched up the corner seams where there were inevitable tiny gaps. He took his time and she watched him on the stepladder, the way his jeans fit and how his customary cotton plaid shirt spread across broad, muscled shoulders. Scott hadn’t been the only one on the football and hockey teams. Cooper had been a bit of a jock, too. But unlike Scott, he’d never had a girl watching from the stands.

  Nope, he’d had about ten girls, all gazing at him with love-struck expressions, sighing blissfully if he ever turned his attention to them. Which he did. Just never for too long. And never at Melissa.

  “Once this is dry, it’ll just need to be touched up with a bit of paint. What do you think?”

  Melissa looked away so he wouldn’t know she’d been staring at him, and made a point of sweeping her gaze around the room. “It looks finished,” she said, realizing it truly did. “The crown molding was a nice touch.”

  “We didn’t do that in the kids’ rooms,” Cooper said, screwing the cap back on the tube. “It’s expensive. It’s a nice addition in here, though.”

  Melissa checked her watch. “My time’s just about up. Are you done here, too?”

  Cooper nodded. “For today. I come out most mornings for a couple of hours and lend a hand. Bring the guys coffee. It won’t be long now until it’s ready. The drywall guy is coming back tomorrow to finish the den, and then it’s just painting the front rooms, putting down the flooring and installing the kitchen cupboards. You coming back another day?”

  He rolled up the hose from the compressor as he spoke. Melissa paused. It hadn’t been so bad, being with Cooper. Awkward and at times uncomfortable, but they’d been civil, which was more than they’d accomplished in years.

  Now that she’d seen the house and helped it take shape, even just a little, she wanted to come back and help out again. “I’ll have to check the work schedule at the shop and call the coordinator. Amy’s fine with running the store, but I’m the only floral designer.”

  “Well, there’s always stuff to be done. I’m sure your help would be welcomed.”

  On the way out of the house Melissa stopped and picked up her purse. Cooper had put the compressor in the hall by the other bedrooms and she heard his voice as he spoke to some workers. She was walking to her car when he called out her name.

  She turned and saw him jogging her way. “Hey,” he said, slowing as he approached. “I’m going to pick up the lunch order from the Wagon Wheel and bring it back. You want to grab a sandwich or something?”

  With him? There was letting bygones be bygones and then there was...what? Lunch for two at the busiest spot in town? They’d been civil this week, but the idea of sitting down and making pleasant conversation was unfathomable. They weren’t friends. Adults, maybe, but the time for friendship and hanging out together was long gone. It was far too late to rewrite the past.

  “I have to get back to the shop, sorry,” she stated, reaching into her purse for her keys.

  Cooper stood back. “Sure. Maybe another time,” he suggested, though they both knew it wasn’t really an invitation.

  “Maybe,” she agreed, but it was an empty agreement.

  “See you around, Mel.”

  “Yeah. Bye, Coop.”

  She reached for the door handle and scooted behind the wheel before he could see the color rise in her cheeks.

  She’d called him Coop. After staring at his behind and being asked out to lunch.

  This was exactly why she had said no. The last thing she needed in her life was a complication like Cooper Ford. They’d done a good job of avoiding each other in the past, and she could take care to do it again.

  CHAPTER TWO

  SHE MANAGED TO AVOID HIM for almost two weeks.

  Melissa yawned and locked the door to the shop. Saturdays and most weeknights she closed at six, except for Fridays, when she stayed open until nine. Last night had been crazy busy with walk-in traffic, which had been unusual but good. And today she’d had to interrupt her design time to help Penny cover the front. People were purchasing fall arrangements, particularly sunflowers and warm-colored mums and zinnias. Premade silk wreaths for front doors were disappearing like hotcakes and so were decorative sheaves of wheat.

  To top it off, she’d barely finished the weekly standing order of flowers for the church when the president of the Ladies’ Circle had come to pick it up. And Melissa had moved directly from that to working on the arrangement for a funeral happening on Monday.

  Now orders were flooding in for the funeral home, and instead of taking a day off on Sunday, she knew she was going to be spending her one lazy day a week here at work, rather than at home vacuuming and doing laundry.

  She loved the store and owning her own business, but there were downsides, too.

  She’d walked to work this morning, taking the extra precious minutes to enjoy the cool air and fall sunshine. Now she wished she’d brought her car. All she really wanted was a quick dinner and a hot bath before falling into bed.

  She’d take care of the quick dinner by stopping at the diner, she decided. The sunlight was fading as she made her way down Main Street and around the corner to the busy restaurant. The parking lot was full and she nearly considered just going home and ordering a pizza. But the great thing about the diner was the convenience of a restaurant with the advantage of good home cooking. When she stepped inside and saw that the special was meat loaf and mashed potatoes, she was sold. Total comfort food.

  She placed her order and waited just beyond the counter.

  The noise was deafening and she closed her eyes, reminding herself that it was only a few minutes and she could find peace and quiet at home.

  And then there was a warm hand on her shoulder and a deep voice said, “Mel, are you okay?”

  She opened her eyes to find Cooper’s worried ones staring down at her. For a split second something exciting leaped at the recognition of his fingers gripping her shoulder. Embarrassed, she nodded quickly, slipping away from his touch. “Fine. I’m just waiting for my order.”

  “With your eyes closed?”

  She shrugged, even though she felt ridiculous. “I’m tired and it’s loud. That’s all.”

  “Melissa? Your order’s up,” Martha Bullock called out from behind the counter, holding up a white paper bag.

  Relieved, Melissa stepped forward to collect it, only to hear Martha announce, “Yours, too, Coop. Extra cheese and a side order of onion rings, just like you wanted.”

  He took the bag from Martha and handed her a twenty, then leaned forward and kissed the older woman’s cheek. “You sure know how to look after a man,” he teased, sending her a wink.

  “Oh, go on with you,” she answered, flapping a hand at him but grinning widely. “Your charm’s wasted on me.�
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  “Did you put in extra ketchup?”

  “Sure I did.”

  “Then it’s not wasted. Have a good night, Martha.”

  Melissa restrained herself from rolling her eyes. The thing about Cooper was that the teasing truly was genuine. He was a charmer, but there wasn’t anything fake about it. If there had been, people would see clear through it. Maybe that was what had hurt so much. Coop had been the most honest, genuine man she’d ever known. Until, of course, he’d lied.

  It was quieter outside. Melissa expelled a huge breath. “Well, good night.” She started walking across the parking lot to the sidewalk.

  Cooper’s voice stopped her. “Hey, Mel, you want a lift? Getting dark for you to be walking home alone.”

  “I’ll be fine. I like the air.”

  “But my truck’s right here. I can drop you off, no trouble.”

  She halted and turned back, pasting on a smile. She did not want Cooper Ford driving her home or anywhere else. “Really,” she said firmly. “I’ll be fine.”

  He frowned. He was wearing the same battered jean jacket as he had that day in her shop, and she marveled once more at how broad his shoulders were. She should not be noticing these things. She wasn’t exactly blind, she reminded herself, but the real problem was they shouldn’t matter. She couldn’t honestly say they were simple detached observations. She noticed, and then she got this odd feeling. Kind of tingly and warm.

  “If you won’t take a drive, I’ll walk you home.”

  Suddenly he didn’t seem so attractive. Why did he have to be all up in her business lately? Hadn’t they managed to avoid each other quite successfully the past three years? It had been an unspoken agreement, and suddenly he was breaking it left, right and center.

  She decided to ask. While the smell of meat loaf wafted up and teased her nostrils, she squared her shoulders and faced him. “Why now, Cooper? For three years we’ve barely said two words to each other. Now all of a sudden you’re making conversation and offering to walk me home—in Cadence Creek, and on a route I’ve walked a million times.”