by Julie Benson
Chapter Six
“What? Move in with you? In Wishing?” Cheyenne asked, her voice high-pitched and filled with shock.
While Cooper worked to keep his expression blank, inside he experienced a similar what-the-hell-were-you-thinking response.
While his suggestion made sense, was in fact the only logical choice to accomplish their goals, he couldn’t shrug off the nagging feeling this was the worst idea he’d had in a long time. Talk about asking for trouble and asking for more than he could handle, starting with being near the enticing redhead around the clock. His body revved up at the thought of waking up every morning to find Cheyenne in his house.
Forget about that. You’ll have a business relationship. You’ll be roommates. Just like you and Zane were at A&M.
That was how he’d deal with the situation. His body started calming down and his breathing evened out. More in control, he glanced at Cheyenne to find her nibbling on her full, rosy lower lip.
So much for being in control. All he could think about was holding Cheyenne, running his hands through her fiery hair, and him nibbling on her lip. The temperature in his house spiked so high he considered turning down the air-conditioning.
“Why on earth would you ask me to move in?”
“With training Penny and the SeizureReader, it makes the most sense. Both are around-the-clock projects.”
“Are you sure?”
Cooper nodded. Sure as I can be since I’ve lost any common sense I possessed and suspect my brain is leaking out my ears.
“Then yes. I’ll take you up on the offer,” Cheyenne said. “Getting out of my mom’s house will be wonderful. When I find a job, I’ll chip in for expenses. I want to pay my fair share.”
“It’s not necessary. Helping test the prototype is payment enough.”
She shook her head, sending her flaming hair floating around her glowing face. The hope and joy shining in her eyes, emotions he’d put there, sent a queasy feeling bolting through him. “I insist. I won’t freeload.”
“Okay, then.”
She placed her hand over his. “I appreciate you doing this for me.”
Sweat beaded on the back of his neck. He swallowed hard and snatched his hand out from under hers. “I’m doing this to get SeizureReader off the ground, though I’m glad it helps you, too.” Cooper had to hold onto that fact.
Doing so would keep this in perspective for him. Cheyenne was a research subject and roommate but nothing more. He would remain detached.
If you’re having to remind yourself about that, you’re already in trouble.
*
Once in the car heading back to Wishing, Cheyenne replayed her encounter with Cooper. Why had he seemed uncomfortable when she thanked him? When she placed her hand over his, he’d yanked away from her as if she’d slapped him.
Quit tearing apart what happened and be thankful you got what you needed—a way out of your mom’s house.
“Thank you for suggesting the road trip,” Cheyenne said to Aubrey to get her mind off Cooper.
“I’m sorry. I admit it. Coming here wasn’t my best idea. You don’t have to rub my nose in it.”
“I wasn’t being sarcastic. I’m serious. Without you, I’d have called Cooper, he’d have referred me to some agency, and I’d be on a mile-long waiting list and stuck with Mom.”
“Clearly I missed something, or I’ve vaulted into bizarro world.”
“When you took a shower, Cooper and I talked. Really talked.” Cheyenne didn’t know why, but Cooper had been different after the police left.
Instead of being furious like she would’ve been, understanding and sympathy filled his gaze. He made her feel as if he’d walked in her boots and realized how they pinched.
Stop it. She was making a big deal out of nothing. What happened was Cooper realized helping her could get his butt out of a sling with his investors. He needed a test subject for his device thing. Nothing more. Hadn’t he said as much when she thanked him?
While she’d been warm-and-gooey-fresh-out-of-the-oven-chocolate-chip-cookie inside, for him it had been a business deal.
“Turns out Cooper needs a guinea pig to test some gadget he’s created, and I’m the perfect test subject,” Cheyenne said, and went on to tell Aubrey about their discussion.
“That’s really something. What do you think about it?”
Cheyenne shrugged. “Don’t tell Cooper, but I don’t see how an app and having a dog press a button will help much, but if it gets me out of my mom’s house, then great.”
After spending the rest of the drive talking about anything and everything, when Aubrey parked in front of the house, Cheyenne wished she could fast-forward to next weekend and moving out. “Thanks for giving me the push I needed. Now, wish me luck. I don’t know what I’m going to say to Mom, but I’m going to set boundaries. Now that I’ve put my big-girl panties back on, I’m not taking them off.”
“Are you going to tell her you’re moving out?”
Sure, she’d said she was keeping her big-girl panties on, but that didn’t mean she wanted to climb a tree during a thunderstorm.
Cheyenne shook her head. “That’ll take some planning. I’m not moving until next weekend. I’m thinking telling her Friday night would be good.”
“Chicken.”
She thought of the Wicked Witch of the West’s line in the Wizard of Oz. These things must be done delicately.
“My first priority is dealing with her calling the police.” Cheyenne closed her eyes and shook her head remembering the concern in Cooper’s eyes. “I’m done worrying about being too tough on her.”
“Good. Give her both barrels.”
“When I think of what could’ve happened to you and Cooper, I get mad all over again.” Cheyenne paused. “I’m sorry you got dragged into this.”
“What are best friends for? If you’re stuck in the mud, I’ll jump in to pull you out.”
Cheyenne smiled. “I’d say I hope to return the favor, but that would mean you’re in a mess, and I wouldn’t wish that on you.”
“You can handle your mom,” Aubrey said, and then added, “Call me later if you need to decompress.”
Once inside, Cheyenne called for her mom as she stalked through the house. Forget about her mother meaning well, not wanting to hurt her feelings, or adding to the pain caused by her father’s death. And to hell with further damaging their uneasy relationship. Her mother’s over protectiveness had morphed into insanity, and it would stop now.
“She’s not here,” Sheridan said when Cheyenne entered the kitchen. “I’m sorry about her calling the police. I tried to stop her, but you know how she is when she’s on a rant. There’s no talking to her.”
“There’s nothing for you to apologize for. It’s not your job to stop Mom from acting crazy. Do you know when she’ll be back?”
Her sister shook her head. “The only reason I know she left is because I heard the door slam.”
This was so typical of their mother. Whenever she’d done something she couldn’t justify and wanted to escape the consequences, she avoided the situation. God forbid she admitted she’d done something wrong and apologize. No, that would be the healthy, reasonable thing to do, but for her mother, conflict was the ultimate evil to be avoided however possible—guilt, tears, running, or most often pretending the situation never happened.
Cheyenne sank into a chair across from Sheridan and massaged her temples. “How could she call the police and report me missing? You’ve got to admit that’s mental-problemcrazy. What if the police had arrested Cooper and Aubrey? Do you know what that could do to their lives?”
“Mom doesn’t see it that way. She said it was your fault.”
“This I’ve got to hear. How did she blame me?”
“She said if you hadn’t lied, if you’d told her the truth, or if you’d answered your phone, she wouldn’t have lost it. She said you know how she worries since Dad died and what not knowing where you were would do to her.”
<
br /> Same old story. Her mother’s reaction wasn’t wacko. Cheyenne’s actions or lack of understanding were the problem. “Trying to control my life is one thing, but what she did to Aubrey and Cooper, what she’s doing to you is too much. For the record, no more giving up things like Friday night football games to babysit me. Got it?”
“I really didn’t mind. I like spending time with you.”
Cheyenne tilted her head, crossed her arms over her chest, and stared down her baby sister. “I have seizures, not dementia.”
“Okay. Sure, I would’ve rather been at the game, but being with you wasn’t torture.”
“That I’ll believe.”
Her sister sat at the table for a minute, her index finger rubbing a nick in the surface. “What was Mom like before Dad died? I can’t remember anymore.”
Poor Sheridan. Unlike Cheyenne, she hadn’t been old enough to remember much of life with their dad. “It was so different. Mom’s always been a worrier, but Dad kept her from going off the deep end. Whenever she panicked about something like bills, he’d put his arm around her, kiss her on the cheek, and say it would all work out. Then she’d accuse him of not worrying about anything. But it never bothered Dad. He’d smile again, and tell her good thing he didn’t, because she worried too much, but together they worried the right amount.”
“I wish I had more memories of him. I used to, but they get fuzzier every day. I’m scared soon I won’t remember him at all.”
“I’ll help you. We need to talk about him more and look at pictures.”
The front door lock rattled announced their mom’s return, ending their conversation. Wide-eyed, Sheridan turned to Cheyenne. “I love you, Sis, but I’m heading to my room. You’re on your own. Good luck.”
“I don’t blame you,” Cheyenne said as her sister dashed off.
When her mother entered the kitchen and spotted Cheyenne, she charged across the room to pull Cheyenne out of her chair and into a crushing hug. “Thank God, you’re home safe. I’ve been so worried. Don’t ever do that to me again! I can’t take the stress. How I didn’t have a heart attack, I’ll never know.”
And here they were with the situation being all about her mom, even though Cheyenne was the one suffering seizures, and Cooper and Aubrey had been forced to deal with the police.
Cheyenne pulled out of the smothering embrace and stepped back. “How could you call the police, Mom? What if they’d arrested Cooper or Aubrey? Or taken them in for questioning? Do you know what that could’ve done to their lives? Their reputations? You could’ve destroyed Cooper’s practice.”
“I panicked when you weren’t at Aubrey’s. If you hadn’t lied or if you’d come home—” Her mom paused and waved her hand through the air. “But you’re here and you’re safe. That’s all that matters, and we can forget all this. I’ve already had lectures from an officer in College Station and from Chief Quinn. That man has no sympathy, and no idea how I felt not knowing where my child was.”
Cheyenne bit her lip. Her mother sounded as if Cheyenne was ten and should’ve been plastered on milk cartons. Part of her said she should press harder to make her mom understand she’d gone too far. Unfortunately, her mother had that I’m-not-going-to-discuss-this-further look, meaning Cheyenne might as well save her time and energy. Her mom had shut down and talking more would do as much good as screaming in a hurricane.
Her mother patted Cheyenne’s hand. “Let’s not talk about that unpleasantness anymore. I’d rather hear about this Dr. Abbott, and why you went to see him. What kind of doctor is he?”
Cheyenne cringed, recognizing the gleam in her mother’s eyes and what her bright smile meant. She slid her hand out from under her mother’s. When she’d struggled in high school and visions of college shriveled, she’d turned to her mom for advice. If she couldn’t get into college, what could she do with her life? How would she provide for herself with barrel racing being her only skill? Unlike other careers, in the rodeo, putting in the hours didn’t mean a living wage. Her mother’s advice hadn’t been what Cheyenne expected or wanted. My dear child, the best thing you can do is latch onto a nice young man who can provide for you.
Her mother thought her daughter had finally found her prospect. “Cooper’s a veterinarian.”
Her mother’s smile dimmed. “That’s still a wonderful profession. Not as great as a real doctor, but vets do well. Why did you go to see him? Don’t tell me Riley is having problems. If she is, you should sell her to get out from under the expense.”
Geez, take a breath so I can get into the conversation.
Cheyenne inhaled deeply, counted to ten, then twenty, and tried to control her rising frustration over her mother’s insistence she should sell Riley. Her mother harped on that subject, too. Keeping that horse is too expensive considering you may never return to the rodeo. Cheyenne resisted the urge to wring her hands. Why was her mom determined to push all her hot buttons today?
“Riley’s fine. I saw Cooper to help me get a service dog.”
Her mom waved her hand through the air again, dismissing the idea. “You don’t need one of those. They’re for people who don’t have family to care for them.”
Or for someone who needs to get away from her mother before she drives her insane. But instead of saying that, Cheyenne explained what she’d learned from the article she’d read at the neurologist’s office, none of which changed her mom’s mind.
Forget waiting to tell her mom she was moving out. No matter how much she planned or how she broke the news, her revelation would go over as well as pouring water on a drowned rat. She figured tackling the issue hard and fast, the way she did a barrel race was her best strategy.
After explaining how she could help Cooper test his prototype and he would train a service dog for her, Cheyenne paused and inhaled deeply. “I’m moving out next weekend. Cooper’s offered to let me stay in a guest room while he trains Penny.”
Her mother crossed her arms over her chest, frowned, and little lines indicating her irritation appeared around her mouth and eyes. “Absolutely not. Maybe if your condition was being controlled with medication, but not with how it’s going now.”
“With a service dog you won’t have to worry about me being alone. Penny will alert me before a seizure, and I can make sure I’m safe. That eliminates the big risk of me getting hurt when the seizure hits.”
“Fine. I grant you a service dog sounds good, but I still don’t think you should be alone. Bring the dog here. Then when Dr. Abbott’s at work, I’ll be with you.”
Thanks, but a big hell-no thanks. “After what you did calling the College Station police, you think he’d agree to come here to train Penny?”
“I’m sure if I explained the situation and apologize, he’d be reasonable.”
Whether or not Cooper understood made no difference to Cheyenne. “Me living here isn’t good for either of us. I have to live my life, and you should go back to living yours.”
“But to move in with this man? What do you know about him? That’s the kind of reckless behavior that gets women killed. If I lose you, too, I don’t know what I’ll do.”
Cheyenne resisted the urge to roll her eyes at her mother pulling out the he-could-be-a-rapist-psychotic-serial-killer argument. While she didn’t need her mother’s permission, getting her acceptance would make life easier and prevent her from camping out on Cooper’s porch. Lord, perish the thought of that nightmare.
Stick to logic and facts. Cheyenne grabbed a deep breath and the band wrapped around her chest loosened enough for her to breathe.
“Cooper is one of Ty Barnett and Chief Quinn’s best friends. They’ve known each other since college. They were in the same squadron in the corps at A&M.”
A scowl crossed her mother’s face. “That’s why the chief was so nasty with me. Doesn’t he realize law officers should be objective? But he’d already decided I was wrong before he talked to me. Do you know he threatened to arrest me for making a false report?”
&n
bsp; Cheyenne cringed over her mistake mentioning Chief Quinn. The question was, how could she get her mother’s mind off the wrong she felt she’d experienced? Focus on Cooper and moving out. Maybe that would help. “Since Cooper met Ty in college, he’s spent a lot of time at the Bar 7. I’m sure Ty’s mom has gotten to know Cooper over the years. If you’re concerned, ask her about him.”
Surely her mom couldn’t argue about Cooper’s character if Ty’s mom vouched for him.
Despite Cheyenne’s rational point, when she glanced at her mother, she could almost see the gears in her head spinning in search of another argument. Why couldn’t she just let the issue go?
“You’re punishing me for calling the police, aren’t you? That’s what this is really about.” Her mother’s lip quivered, and her eyes misted over. Pulling the you-can’t-do-this-to-me card was a sure sign of her mother’s desperation.
“I’m not punishing you. This is about me, and what I need.”
“What if I promise to not be so overprotective? What if I give you more space? Will you drop this silly idea of moving out? Will you quit punishing me for calling the police?”
“I’m not doing this to hurt you. I love you.” Cheyenne clasped her hands together on her lap under the table. Her patience frayed and, tired of pretty much chasing her tail, it was time to make the situation clear. “I’d like you to be okay with this, but I don’t need your permission, and I’m not asking for it. I’m telling you what I’m doing.”
“If you don’t want to heed my concerns, you’re right. You don’t need my permission, but you could at least appreciate having a mother who cares enough to worry about your well-being.”
“I do.” But that doesn’t mean I’ll let you guilt me into changing my mind.
“Will you at least call me to check in a couple times a day?”
Cheyenne resisted the urge to sigh in relief, knowing she’d rounded the first barrel. “I’ll text you every night before I go to sleep.”
“I’d prefer a phone call. Texting is so impersonal. Not only that, but I can tell so much from your voice.”
