by Linda Kage
Seeing him below, she waved her fingers in a sad farewell. He waved back; mouthing the words, don’t forget.
* * * *
Cooper woke before the sun rose the next morning. More than ready to get the day underway, he finished his chores early, feeding and watering the calves even before his mom had breakfast on the table. In fact, she was just setting a plate loaded with fried eggs and sausage links in front of his father as Coop pushed his way inside the back door.
Both his parents looked up as he entered. With an apprehensive gulp, he paused to wipe his boots on the welcome mat.
“My goodness, you’re up with the cows,” Loren Gerhardt praised as her eyes lit with motherly adoration. She smiled at her youngest child before turning back to the stove and readying a second plate. “And here I thought you stayed out late with your friends last night.”
Coop flushed. “I did.” He stopped by the sink to wash his hands before he took off his hat, rested it on the back of his chair, and slid into the creaking, old wooden seat next to his father. “But I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d get my chores done early.” As soon as he sat, his mom placed another heaping plateful of breakfast in front of him. He grinned his thanks and dug in.
“Well, that works out just fine for me,” his dad spoke up. “Because I need you to bale the lespedeza in the south field today. Maybe you can get it done before the weather turns too hot.”
Coop’s grin faltered. His fork paused halfway to a link as he glanced at his father. “But I had plans this morning.”
Jo Ellen’s sweet face flittered through his head as he recalled how she’d looked up at him last night when she’d told him she would remember their kiss, and promised she’d break up with Untermeyer for him.
His insides went black just thinking that name. Coop had always suspected Pretty Boy and Jo Ellen had sex, but hearing her admit it last night landed like acid in his stomach. And on top of that, he had to hear how much she didn’t like sex with Untermeyer.
Cooper shuddered. Poor Jo Ellen.
He wasn’t a Casanova by any means. He’d only been with two different girls. But he’d never hurt either of them, and one had been a virgin. He wanted to rip Pretty Boy a new one for causing Jo Ellen any kind of pain.
Oh, who was he kidding? He wanted to kill the guy for defiling her at all, even if she’d loved Untermeyer’s touch.
“Well, if you have plans this morning, then bale the field this afternoon,” his dad grumbled before he took a sip of his black coffee. Coop shook himself back to the present and eyed his father as the old man added, “Doesn’t matter to me if you want to work in the hottest part of the day and sweat your ass off.”
At sixty-five, Thaddeus Gerhardt’s face and forearms had seen so much of the sun they’d wrinkled and dried out over the years, making the man appear worn and aged beyond his time. Even the whites of his eyes had lost their brightness and had long since faded to a dull grey. Studying him, Coop was reminded how hard the old man worked himself.
Slumping his shoulders and dropping his face as he stabbed a sausage link and stuffed it morosely into his mouth, Cooper mumbled, “It wasn’t such a pressing matter.” He’d merely wanted to rush to the Rawlings mansion and steal Jo Ellen away from her dirt bag boyfriend. “I can probably do it this afternoon and bale the field this morning.”
“I said do what you like,” his dad retorted with his usual gruff air. “As long as the grass is baled by the time the sun goes down, I don’t care what time you start.”
Coop speared his father with a dry scowl. “But if I don’t start on it this morning, you’ll probably go and bale it yourself before I get to it this afternoon.”
As his father frowned, his mother laughed. “He’s got you there, Thad. The boy knows his daddy only too well.”
Thaddeus grumbled something under his breath and returned his attention to his breakfast, ignoring both his wife and son. But no matter how tough the old man tried to act, Coop knew his dad was one of the softest individuals he’d ever meet.
As Loren seated herself and started her own breakfast of oatmeal, Coop chewed silently, watching his parents.
He’d been an oops child, born when they were both in their forties after they thought they were finished having children. His two sisters were so much older than him; they’d already moved out and started their own lives. Brendel and Stacia were both married with five kids between them, and Brendel’s oldest son trailed Coop by only six months.
He’d grown up instinctively knowing he’d someday be the one to care for these two when they grew too old to care for themselves. It made him protective of them.
Realizing his father really would do his work for him if he didn’t do it this morning, Coop sighed and revised his plans. Jo Ellen probably wouldn’t be awake yet anyway. She would need to recuperate from her hangover. Then she’d have to contact Untermeyer and break it off with him. Cooper was being too anxious wanting to see her this early; that was all.
So, as soon as he cleared his plate, he pushed his chair back, put his dirty dishes in the washer, and paused to plant a loud, smacking kiss to the crown of his mom’s head before he grabbed his hat and was out the door.
He rushed, making sloppy work of the field. His dad would probably complain when he saw how much hay Cooper left lying in the field, but Coop was too eager and antsy to see Jo Ellen, he didn’t even care. He’d go over it again tomorrow…if his dad didn’t get to it first.
He finished baling by late morning. His mom would have lunch on the table in under an hour. As Coop stored the tractor back in the barn and paused to unhook the baler, he debated with himself if he should wait until after lunch or head over to the Rawlings’ house now.
He’d have less time to visit Jo Ellen if he left now, but he’d get to see her sooner if he didn’t wait until later. Then again, if he showed up over there so close to dinnertime, maybe the Rawlings would invite him to eat with them, in which case he’d have the rest of the day to spend with her.
Mind made up, Cooper hopped into the shower as soon as he made it back to the house. Afterward, he tugged on some fresh clothes, his Sunday best. Finally clean and impatient, he started toward the big mansion.
He couldn’t say guilt bothered him about being the reason Jo Ellen was going to break up with Untermeyer. He gained a spiteful satisfaction from it, actually. But vengeance wasn’t the consuming thought tumbling around in his head as he pulled into the Rawlings drive and lumbered his old rattletrap down the long path to their front door. No, the most intense thought, overshadowing all else, was the fact he was about to see her again. His blood warmed just thinking about it.
Anxious for even a glimpse, he strained in his seat, keeping an eye on the front door as he parked. It wasn’t as if he expected her to burst from the house and charge toward him; she didn’t even know he was coming. Though he had to admit it’d be a nice sight if she did do that.
Scrubbing his suddenly damp palms on the top of his thighs, he blew out a breath and pushed open his door. He was so intent about his mission to reach the front porch; he didn’t even notice others outside until he heard a shout.
“Hey! Hold it steady.”
Cooper glanced over to spot the two Rawlings sons grappling with a fifty-five-gallon oil drum and trying to load it into the back of a tailgate.
“I’m trying,” Caine Rawlings muttered, his face going from bright red to purple as he heaved. Being only thirteen, he couldn’t pull as much weight as twenty-year-old Grady, and the entire barrel tilted his way, splaying a nasty glop of black liquid over the side.
Changing directions, Coop jogged toward the two and immediately leant his weight to Caine’s end, helping the little guy lift his load. When Caine looked over his shoulder and saw Cooper, his shoulders sagged. He immediately stepped back, letting Coop take on his half of the work.
Not prepared for the added weight, Coop grunted and the cask slanted even further his way, threatening to tip over completely. Slimy oil spilled over the side and sp
rayed his temple and shoulder, running down his front and back and soaking his button-up western shirt.
“Caine!” Grady scolded, struggling to help straighten the drum.
“What? Coop’s like three times bigger than I am. I figured he could handle it.”
“I got it,” Coop muttered, closing one eye so oil wouldn’t drip in it. “I just didn’t think you’d let go so fast.” Or at all.
“Oh,” Caine said, realizing his mistake. He cringed. “My bad.”
Both Cooper and Grady ignored him as they lifted the barrel in unison and perched it on the edge of the tailgate.
“Caine,” Grady snapped again. “Since you’re just standing around doing nothing, hop up there and drag it back deeper into the bed of the truck, will you.”
“Sure thing.” Eager to comply, Caine scrambled onto the tailgate. But in his haste, he jostled the container and more oil splashed out, drenching both Cooper and Grady.
Coop gritted his teeth and bit his tongue, but Grady cursed a blue streak. Finally, Caine grasped the container and managed to tug it onto a stable surface. Cooper shook oil off his arm before he wiped at his face with the clean side of his sleeve.
Great. Jo Ellen was going to take one look at him and laugh in his face.
“Christ, Coop, I’m sorry.” Grady handed him a rag and managed to look genuinely grateful as he added, “But I appreciate the help. We needed it.”
“No problem.” Though actually it was a problem. He’d taken special care to look nice for Jo Ellen, and now all she was going to see was an oil-drenched farm boy. He had four times as much oil on him as Grady did.
To prolong his bad luck, the front door of the house came open. Forgetting about the fact he had grease sopping down his hair, face, and clothes, he quit mopping at his eyes, and even faltered in his breathing, when she emerged.
The sun glinted against her long, dark hair as she started their way, making a physical ache bloom in his chest. He began to smile before he realized she didn’t move as gracefully as Jo Ellen did.
“Hey, Coop,” she called, lifting her hand and waving big and sloppy as she skipped closer.
Disappointment ran thick through his veins. Not Jo Ellen.
“Hey, Em,” he greeted despondently, turning away to finish wiping the mess off his face.
“Whoa. What happened to you guys?” She glanced between him and her older brother.
“Ask Caine,” Grady muttered, using his own rag to brush black smudges off his arm.
“Actually, it’s pretty obvious.” Emma grinned as she turned to Coop. “So, what’re you doing here? Daddy hire you to help us out for the day, or what?”
“No,” Coop scrubbed the front of his ruined shirt and only succeeded in making the stain bigger. “I’m—”
He paused when he realized how embarrassing it was to confess what he was actually doing. Glancing up, he swallowed when he noticed he’d gained the attention of all three of Jo Ellen’s siblings.
“You’re what?” Caine asked when Coop took too long to answer.
Cheeks heating, Coop glanced toward the house before he risked a peek at Grady. “I just…I came over to see how Jo Ellen was faring this morning?”
There, that sounded like a friendly, worried-neighbor thing to do.
Emma Leigh scrunched up her face into a confused frown. “Jo Ellen? What’re you worried about her for?”
“Coop here brought her home last night.” Grady suspiciously eyed Cooper with intense, intimidating blue eyes.
Coop had to look away, so he focused on Em.
She continued to analyze him before her face cleared. “Oh, that’s right. Someone told me you’d done that.”
“She was awfully sick,” he explained. “I just wanted to make sure she felt better.”
Em snorted. “Sick? What, was she drunk?”
Coop lifted his brows. “Yeah, she was.”
Emma Leigh’s snigger died as her jaw dropped. “Seriously? The princess drank last night? She drank alcohol?” Before Coop could respond, she threw her head back and laughed. “Oh, man, I wish I would’ve seen that.”
“And I wish Mom and Dad would’ve seen the both of you,” Grady cut in. “If they knew you two were at Eden’s party last night, drinking, you’d be grounded until you’re thirty. I’ve a mind to tell them myself. Jo Ellen was so far gone anyone could’ve taken advantage of her. Who knows what might’ve happened if Coop hadn’t found her and brought her home?”
Coop’s cheeks turned a dull red. He couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened, and he had been the one to find her and bring her home.
“Oh, don’t tell on ‘em,” Caine begged. “Em’s paying me good money to keep my trap shut. If Mom and Dad find out, I won’t see a cent.”
“What?” Grady smacked him on the back of the head. “You should be ashamed of yourself; more concerned about cash than your two sisters’ welfare.”
Caine shrugged as he rubbed his cranium. “What’d I have to worry about? Coop was there.”
Coop coughed into his hand, and tried not to feel guilty about last night, but a quick shame filled him. If they knew what he’d done to their sister, all three of them would probably find the nearest tree and string him up.
He opened his mouth, though he wasn’t sure what he was going to say. As much of an honest idiot as he was, he probably would’ve confessed how he’d let Jo Ellen play with his erection and kiss him…and how he’d kissed her back. But thank God, the crackle of crunching gravel diverted everyone’s attention.
A sleek, red Mazda Miata—its engine so quiet Cooper didn’t even hear it running—pulled to a stop next to his clunker. He narrowed his eyes as the driver’s side door opened and a tan pair of khaki pants slid out before Travis Untermeyer unfolded the rest of his body from his toy box automobile. When he spotted Jo Ellen’s siblings, he waved congenially and started their way. All four of them waved back, and Coop was tickled to note the other three appeared about as eager to welcome Untermeyer as he was.
“Hey,” Pretty Boy greeted, his fake smile flashing until he spotted Cooper. Then he pulled to a stop, smirking. “Gerhardt?” He laughed. “Wow, it’s nice to see you finally cleaned up for once.”
Cooper felt so hot, he couldn’t even answer. He just wanted to reach out and wrap his hands around the dirt bag’s scrawny pencil neck.
Hurts enough when he shoves inside me.
Coop decided he could easily solve Jo Ellen’s dilemma by snapping Untermeyer’s small penis clean off with his bare hand and tossing it to the hogs.
As Grady, Caine, and Emma Leigh explained the oil mess on his clothes, Cooper seethed. Usually he felt a mild contempt whenever he encountered Travis Untermeyer. But today, the only emotion boiling inside him was white, hot hatred.
What the hell was Untermeyer doing here anyway? Had Jo Ellen called him over to break up with him in person? He hoped so. He hoped he got a front row seat, watching her dump the rich jackass. He bet Pretty Boy was a crier.
But even as he imagined a pathetic Untermeyer bawling and begging on his knees at Jo Ellen’s feet, the main entrance of the mansion sprang open again. This time, Jo Ellen herself emerged. It was the very vision he’d dreamed up when he’d first parked. The door flew open and she appeared under the covered porch, smiling as if she’d just spotted her one true love. Then she bounded down the steps and sprinted their way, her long, dark hair flowing behind her and her slim body eating up the ground with graceful strides.
His chest constricting with painful longing, Coop took a step in her direction…until he realized she was racing toward Pretty Boy, not him. The dirt bag opened his arms, and Jo Ellen leapt into them, hugging and kissing him as if she hadn’t seen him in a millennium.
And as he watched, unable to look away, Cooper’s world crumbled around him.
Chapter Four
Grady cleared his throat—loudly.
Finally, the two necking lovebirds reluctantly broke apart. Jo Ellen’s grin looked embarrassed
. Untermeyer’s went smug. Cooper longed to break his face.
“We’re going for a picnic,” Jo Ellen announced, taking Untermeyer’s hand and snuggling close to him, but not quite as close as she’d snuggled to Coop last night.
He shifted, uncomfortable, and glanced away.
“Em,” Grady barked, impatiently motioning a finger in Emma Leigh’s direction. “Maybe you should go with them.”
Just as Jo Ellen frowned and said, “I didn’t pack enough food for three,” Emma Leigh made a face. “Eww, I don’t want to go with them and watch them suck face all afternoon. Gag me.”
Cooper tried to look invisible and remember how to breathe while the siblings continued to argue. In the end, Jo Ellen got her way. She and Untermeyer convinced Grady to let them go off alone together while Coop just stood there, soaked in grease and completely ignored by the girl who’d stolen his heart less than twelve hours ago.
When she finally noticed him, her gaze went wide but not from guilt or even horrified remembrance.
“Goodness, Cooper. What happened to you?” Her attention slid down his grease-coated arm with a hint of pity.
He sighed, glancing at the dark streaks marring the nicest shirt he’d owned up until then.
She didn’t remember. She was staring him straight in the eye and treated him as if everything between them was as it had always been: polite, distant, and lifeless.
Last night, his world had altered on its axis; he felt like a different person. But today she remained exactly the same, utterly unaffected and clueless about what she’d done to him.
“Looks like he took a dip in one of your oil drums,” Pretty Boy said, his eyes glittering with suppressed glee as he met Coop’s glower. “Y’all should charge him for that commodity he’s filching from you, but it’d probably feed the poor boy for a week.”
Jo Ellen, damn her, laughed. But she was the only one, thank God, because if anyone else thought Untermeyer’s lame-ass joke was in any way funny, Cooper would’ve lost all respect for the entire Rawlings family. Emma Leigh glanced at Coop over Untermeyer’s shoulder and rolled her eyes.
