Cooper’s Redemption (Crimson Romance)

by D'Ann Lindun

  “Yes.” He didn’t elaborate or explain any further.

  “Then I think my rope is where I want it to be,” she said, looking deep into his eyes.

  Cooper rose and filled his cup. “I’ve got to figure out the connection between my cows and Lyle’s death.”

  “What do you think brought him to my barn?”

  “I think he may have planned to bed down out there,” Cooper said. “He didn’t really have a home. He’d work a day or two and get enough money to crash at Servi Watson’s boarding house. Sometimes he’d sleep in a barn if he couldn’t pay.”

  “I wish to God I’d let him work for me.” A shaft of regret shot through Elizabeth. She’d let her mother down, too.

  “Don’t beat yourself up. Lyle’s own brother didn’t take good care of him.” Cooper took a sip of coffee. “It’s not your fault.”

  “I’m not so sure about that.” She stared into her coffee cup. “I was his family, too.”

  “We’re not talking about Lyle here, are we?” he asked softly.

  Elizabeth stood up, banging her knee on the table. “I’ll do the dishes. Then I’d better get going.”

  “Leave them,” he commanded. “I’ll go with you and check out your house, if you wouldn’t mind giving me a lift to town. I have a rental truck there.”

  “Sure.” Relief washed through her. She wouldn’t have to go home alone.

  • • •

  In the midmorning light her house looked perfectly normal. The snow around it marked only by her own tracks. With Cooper by her side, Elizabeth let herself inside. Dropping Fancy in the middle of the living room, she checked the house. Nothing had been disturbed. In broad daylight, her bedroom seemed normal. Just to be sure, she checked the windows. Locked. Just as she’d left them. “Will you wait while I take a quick shower?” She turned away. “I’ll hurry.”

  He nodded. “I’ll take a look around outside.”

  Elizabeth didn’t linger. She showered, then chose a heavy, copper-colored angora sweater that cost a small fortune at Macy’s, and a pair of matching velvet jeans. After drying her hair, she applied a bit of makeup, telling herself it was not meant to impress the cowboy downstairs.

  Cooper stood in the rear of the house by the door. He turned to face her and she was rewarded by the look of admiration on his face– just for a moment before he carefully schooled his features. It didn’t matter. She’d gotten to him. She was glad now for taking the extra minute to dab on a touch of her favorite perfume.

  Cooper motioned to the door. “This is where your guy came in.”

  She peered at the doorknob. “It seems fine to me.”

  “Look closer.”

  She did, bending so that she could get a clear look. Her elbow brushed Cooper’s hip and he jumped. Hiding a smile, she sobered instantly when she saw what he pointed at. In the lock opening was a small piece of paper. Placed there to keep the door from fastening tightly.

  “There weren’t any tracks in the snow when I came home,” she said in a tiny voice as icy fingers of fear skimmed across her neck.

  “Probably because the guy came in, only took time to open your windows and ran. The storm covered his tracks. You better call a locksmith and get him out here today.”

  Elizabeth nodded. “I’ll do it right now.”

  “The door’s bolted well enough for now,” Cooper said. “But better to not take any chances.”

  Her gaze roamed her roomy, ugly kitchen. It looked so welcoming, so peaceful. The idea a stranger had intruded here shook her. Had her mother thought this house safe? “I think I’ll rent a room.”

  “Don’t do it,” Cooper warned. “Don’t give them the satisfaction. Stand and fight.”

  “What would you know about it?” she cried angrily. “I don’t want to be here alone if they come back.”

  “I know more about standing your ground than you know, but I can’t help you,” he said. “I’ve got my own battles. If I leave my own place to come here, my cows’ll get stolen in a heartbeat.”

  Stung, Elizabeth couldn’t speak. What had she expected? Some declaration of feelings from him? She’d been warned. “I’ll be fine on my own from now on.”

  “The general store on Second and Bitterberry will do it for you. Ask for Stu. He’s trustworthy.” He hesitated for a minute. “I better get moving.”

  They didn’t speak again until he asked her to drop him off in front of Western States Insurance. “I’ll rent a truck after I finish here.”

  She nodded. “Are you going home?”

  He shook his head. “I’m going to drive down to Delta and see if any of my heifers turn up at the sale barn there.”

  Was this goodbye, then? She opened her mouth to speak, the words sticking in her throat. Inside, a million fears swirled around.

  “Be careful.” He slammed the car door and went inside the building.

  “Good luck,” she whispered to his fading form, ignoring the pain in her chest. Watching until he disappeared, she pulled onto the street. Knowing it was probably a wasted trip, she drove to the sheriff’s office and went in search of Marlowe. He sat in his office, head buried in paperwork.

  Elizabeth entered. “I have a problem.”

  He sighed, capping his pen. “So, what else is new?”

  Frowning, she perched on the edge of an old leather chair. “My house was broken into last night.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive.” She explained about the windows and said, “It’ll be on your transcripts that I called.”

  The sheriff bellowed, “Leah, get me last night’s logbook.”

  In a moment, a short, dark-haired woman came back carrying a large book. She set it on the desk in front of the sheriff and exited. Without comment, Marlowe began skimming the pages. “Nothing here, Miss Adams.”

  “What do you mean?” She stood up and walked around the desk, peering over his shoulder as he ran his finger down the list of phone calls from the previous evening. As he’d said, there was no entry containing her number.

  “This is ridiculous,” she sputtered. “I spoke to a deputy around eight P.M. He said he’d send someone right out.”

  “My man wouldn’t lie,” the sheriff said coldly. “What are you up to?”

  “I’m not the one playing games,” Elizabeth said just as frostily. “I called this station after my house was broken into last night. A deputy assured me someone would be right out. I waited for some time. Then I left.”

  “All I can do is make a report now,” Marlowe said.

  “Fine,” Elizabeth said through gritted teeth, “you do that.”

  As she walked down the hall a few minutes later, Elizabeth bumped into Tom. She suppressed a groan. The last thing she wanted to hear was another lecture from him about Cooper. She nodded and tried to step around him. But he blocked her path with his body. “Not too friendly this morning, huh, Liz?”

  “In a hurry,” she muttered.

  “To do what?”

  “Look for my mother,” she said. “I’m already behind schedule. You’d know something about that, wouldn’t you? I mean, you’re way behind on trying to find her.”

  “I have feelers out.” He patted her arm. “We’re family. We should take time to visit.”

  “What do we have to discuss other than the progress on my mom’s whereabouts?”

  “Lots of stuff.” He bared his teeth in a smile that made her skin crawl. “For instance, the weather. Sure was cold last night wasn’t it? Did your old house stay warm enough? Those old windows never do stay shut.”

  “What do you mean?” A shiver ripped down her spine. Was there a message behind his seemingly innocent words?

  “Just a comment,” he replied. “I wouldn’t want my cousin to freeze out there, all alone.” He patted her arm again, and without another word, went on.

  Elizabeth stared after him, mouth dry. Had Tom broken into her house and opened the windows? He would’ve had time to jimmy that back door lock two nights ago. Des
perately, she tried to remember if he had been near the door. Then it occurred to her, he’d been in the kitchen with Cooper for some time. She needed to ask Cooper if Tom had left him alone to mess with the lock.

  • • •

  Standing on Main Street, Elizabeth looked up and down it. Salt Lick was a tiny burg, out in the middle of nowhere. Surely a stranger would stick out, especially someone like Lillian Adams. Although over fifty, she had the figure and, thanks to several surgeons, the face of a much younger woman. Her vibrant red hair was an eye-catcher in any crowd. If her face and body weren’t enough to attract attention, Lillian had the attitude to match. She looked young, felt young, and acted young.

  Elizabeth took a deep breath. If she had to interview every single person in this town, she’d do it. The closest shop was Roses by Rose. Dorky name. Maybe her mom had felt the need to see what rose prices in Salt Lick were, or maybe buy a dozen to cheer up Henry’s old place. Often, on trips they had taken together, they would drop in on competitors to see what they were up to.

  Ducking her head to avoid a low-hanging plant, Elizabeth entered the store. She glanced up to see how she’d nearly knocked herself silly. A ball of mistletoe tied with a red velvet ribbon hung directly overhead. Smiling a little, she thought of how she’d utilize that particular plant if Cooper came around.

  Cooper.

  There had to be a way to keep the man off her mind. There were more important things to concentrate on than kissing the cowboy.

  With one last, longing look at the plant, Elizabeth moved further inside. In spite of herself, she was impressed. The owner had taken advantage of every ounce of space, and in a little more than what appeared to be a twelve by twelve area, dozens of live plants sat center stage. Even the walls were covered by an assortment of vines. White-painted shelves, framed with lattice, held up the heavy greenery. The entire effect reminded Elizabeth of what it might be like to be trapped inside a rose garden.

  The familiar scents of roses, carnations and various ferns brought tears to her eyes. Would this nightmare ever end?

  “May I help you?”

  Elizabeth jumped at the sound of a voice. At first what appeared to be a scarlet-clothed elf, complete with white striped tights and a green apron, turned out to be a tiny, blonde woman wearing an ordinary corduroy dress. “Uh, hello.”

  The elf’s lips curved upward. “I’m Rose. Is there something I can do for you?”

  “Yes, I’m looking for someone.” Elizabeth moved closer and wondered if her first impression had been right after all, and she had stumbled across one of Santa’s little helpers. The woman stood barely five feet, if that. “Let me start over. My name is Elizabeth Adams, and I’m looking for my mother.” Handing her a picture, Elizabeth said, “This is my mom. Have you seen her?”

  The woman studied the photo. Keeping her gaze down, she asked, “What makes you think she might’ve come here? Did she need flowers or a plant?”

  “My mother and I are florists. A natural curiosity about your business may have drawn her here.” A thought occurred to Elizabeth. Had Mom bought flowers to take to the cemetery? “I think she may have wanted a bouquet to place at a relative’s grave. Did anyone resembling this woman buy flowers from you?”

  Without making eye contact, the woman handed back the photo. “I never saw her.”

  “Are you certain?” Elizabeth pressed. “What about an employee?”

  “Positive.” For such a small person, the elf-woman’s voice was loud. “There is no one else. Just me.”

  “Would you have a copy of a receipt, maybe?”

  “I’m too busy to look right now. With the Christmas rush and all.”

  Something about the woman’s demeanor didn’t ring true to Elizabeth. She wondered if she stalled long enough the other woman would spill something. “I’d like a bouquet, please. Something subdued. Suitable for a grave.”

  With a jerk, the elf-woman said, “Certainly. Roses?”

  “Mums, preferably.” Had her mom held a similar conversation? A chill played a like a piano down Elizabeth’s back. For some reason, she was sure her mom had been here. Why wouldn’t Rose check her receipts?

  Rose indicated a refrigerator at the back of the room. “I have these bouquets already made.”

  “I’d prefer something custom-made.” Elizabeth delayed again. “Orange and yellow chrysanthemums, lots of greenery, maybe a few carnations, minis, if you have them.”

  “Certainly.” Rose moved to her cold case. “I have to go in back for the mini carnations. I’ll just be a minute.”

  As soon as she moved out of sight, Elizabeth lunged toward the desk that held the cash register. But the area was bereft of anything helpful. Not a shred of paper marred the surface. “Damn it.”

  “Will these do?” Rose came around the corner holding a bunch of yellow carnations.

  “Perfect,” Elizabeth said dully. “Please add a streamer that says ‘uncle’. These are for Henry Harper. He was my mother’s brother.”

  Rose jumped like she had been slapped, but made no comment. Her fingers flew as she made the arrangement.

  “So, how long have you been in the business?”

  “Five years.” Rose didn’t ask Elizabeth how long she’d been a florist.

  Elizabeth wondered if she already knew.

  After paying with her credit card, again trying and failing to catch a glimpse of any errant papers, Elizabeth asked, “Could you direct me to the cemetery?”

  “Follow Main Street north until it runs out. To your left is a dirt road. Follow it to the end, about a mile. The graveyard sits right in front of you. Can’t miss it.”

  Thanking her, Elizabeth added, “Please, if you recall anything about my mother, call me at Henry Harper’s old place. The number is the same.”

  • • •

  Lone Pine graveyard sat on top of a bluff, overlooking Salt Lick, an ice-blue sky and snow-topped La Sals as a majestic backdrop. Finding the graveyard had been easy, locating Henry and Bea’s graves had not been as simple. Broken and sagging markers indicated some families had buried their own since the 1800s. Weaving her way among the centuries-old graves, Elizabeth finally found the headstones marked ‘Harper’.

  With misty eyes, Elizabeth brushed away snow and read the names of family members she’d never know. Henry’s mother and father, Cyrus and Sally Ann. Next to them rested a marker with the dates of an unnamed baby girl, born and lost to them two days later, almost sixty years ago now. An aunt she’d never known she had, Elizabeth realized. In the plot next to them rested Tom’s father, Carl, and his mother, Jeannie.

  Elizabeth knelt at the head of Henry’s resting place and stared at his name engraved in white marble. “I hope you’re resting in peace. I wish I could’ve met you. I would like to talk to you now. Maybe you would have an idea where to hunt for my mom. But of course if you were here, she wouldn’t be missing. God, I need her back.”

  Elizabeth’s throat tightened and she waited a moment to continue. “There’s something else. If only there was a way you could tell me the truth about what happened between you and Cooper. It doesn’t really matter, though. I’ve gotten to know him, and I don’t think there’s any way he could’ve murdered you or Lyle.”

  Elizabeth bent to place her offering of flowers on the ground, and when she did, her gaze settled on a snow-covered bloom. When she tried to lift the flower, it stuck to the cold earth. Digging at the frozen snow, Elizabeth uncovered a wilted, dead bouquet. Lifting it, and looking closely, she found the arrangement of blooms were tied with a faded dark blue ribbon labeled ‘Henry–Brother’. The letters were nearly identical to the ones on the fresh flowers at her feet. “My God, Henry, you did speak to me. Thank you. Mom left these here. I know it.”

  As goose bumps prickled her skin, Elizabeth turned and ran to her SUV. This time she was going to make Rose confess if she had to hold her pointy little ears over a lit candle.

  • • •

  Closed.

  The
sign on the front door of Roses by Rose just as well of read ‘I know something’.

  Frustrated, Elizabeth pounded on the glass with her fist. “Damn it. Where are you?”

  Despair filled her. Why wouldn’t anyone tell her the truth? Her mood darkened further as a sheriff’s vehicle crawled by. She couldn’t make out who was behind the wheel, but she’d bet on Tom. Was her cousin dangerous enough to break in her home and open all her windows to give her a good scare? Had he killed Lyle Pritchett? Had he run Rose off, too?

  Maybe Rose was listed in the phone book. The December sun was quickly fading. If Elizabeth hurried, she could get home before dark. As she dragged herself into the SUV, she longed for Cooper’s steady presence. Maybe he could make some sense out of this latest development.

  • • •

  Although careful to not drive off the road, Elizabeth made it to the ranch in a flash. As she pulled into the driveway, her skin prickled. Nothing looked out of the ordinary. Her gaze was drawn to her bedroom windows; they looked secure from her position on the ground. The barn doors were shut.

  Swallowing her fear, she forced herself to walk to the house. Her heart raced like crazy, and she couldn’t catch her breath. Was someone lurking inside?

  Taking a great breath, she inserted the key she’d picked up from the locksmith in town. The new key turned easily and the door swung open. Instead of bolting as she longed to do, Elizabeth stepped inside. Fancy cried, and she bent to pick him up.

  A pleasant warmth hit her face. A tiny bit reassured, she moved rapidly through the house. Everything was secure. Although her heart still pounded unnaturally fast, she felt better. The lasagna fixings from the previous night were still on the counter where she’d left them. Pasta was a good comfort food.

  About an hour and a glass of red wine later, Elizabeth relaxed. The old house creaked with the wind, but it wasn’t a scary sound. The scent of garlic and diced onion hung in the air. Elizabeth still felt like an interloper within the unfamiliar walls. She went to the CD player and put on Alan Jackson. Even in L.A., she’d listened to country music. Her friends had all thought she was insane.