“I can’t begin to tell you how much it means to Myra to have you here. I also hear that she’s not the only one who’s pleased to have you in town. I couldn’t be happier about that either. He is such a fine young man,” Sheryl said, smiling.
Surely she wasn’t talking about her and Coop…Kendall moved her attention to the young Asian woman who was walking toward them. Reed slim and short, her black-framed glasses matched her jet-black hair.
“Kendall, this is my business partner, Catherine Nyugen-Scott,” Sheryl said, tugging the young woman closer to them. “We call her Cathy for short.”
Turning to face Cathy, she said, “Kendall is Myra’s niece, who’s here for the summer, and I hear she may have snagged our Cooper. Isn’t that right?” she asked, her eyes filled with mischief.
Kendall smiled, having no idea how to respond to that.
“Friends. I know. But I can’t resist teasing,” Sheryl said, winking. “You two get acquainted. We’ll start in about ten minutes,” she said, and walked away, leaving Kendall alone with Cathy.
“I love your aunt,” Cathy said.
“Me too. So are you new to Coopersville?” Kendall asked.
“Yes, I just finished my doctoral degree at the university.”
“You grew up here?” Kendall asked.
“No, my husband and I moved here a few years ago. We wanted to raise our kids in a small town. I grew up in California in a small community, and Clyde, that’s my husband, grew up in a big city, but we both wanted small.”
“Why Coopersville?”
“We were vacationing at the state park. My husband’s a big beer drinker, and he’s big into home brewing too, so of course we had to visit the famous pub. He and Cooper hit it right off, and we became members of the co-op. Anyone can join, you know. He and Cooper started talking business, and Clyde told him about my desire to start a business. Cooper said he had a friend who helped people in Coopersville with business financing.
“He also mentioned Sheryl as someone in need of a partner. The friend Cooper mentioned turned out to be your aunt. So we moved here, and with our savings and your aunt’s help, I became the co-owner of Knit One, Purl Two.”
“That’s really nice. How is it working for you?” Kendall asked.
“Better than I imagined. Sheryl is getting older, and she had begun to worry about what to do with her business when she can’t run it anymore, or if she just decides to work less. She never married and doesn’t have any children, so this is a good solution for us both. She can slowly reduce her time here, and I can raise my children while slowly learning the business.”
“That’s smart.”
“So tell me about you. Cooper, huh?” Catherine said, and smiled. “He’s handsome too,” she added, and they both laughed.
“My aunt relies on him quite a bit?” Kendall said.
“He’s basically Myra’s son,” Catherine said, chuckling. “She’s the closest to a mother I think he has. She’s been that and more to a few others in this town, you’ll find,” Catherine said, sliding her arm through Kendall’s. “Come on, let me introduce you around,” she said, and Kendall spent the evening meeting more residents of Coopersville and trying to get her fingers to work around her knitting needles.
#
“What are you still doing here?” Cooper asked. It was near ten, and he was dead tired from having to be here so early. A bus filled with visitors to the state park had stopped by, and it had been crazy for a while. Thankfully, things were finally calm again. Celeste stood in the doorway leading to the kitchen.
“I though you could use the extra help. I realize that I was supposed to leave, but it didn’t feel right to leave you after that busload of people arrived. I clocked out, so you don’t have to pay me. I didn’t clock in early this morning, just waited until my shift was supposed to start. Both were my decisions,” she said.
He paused, turning away from her for a second. He looked angry before breaking his gaze from hers, but whatever she thought she saw was gone when he returned his attention to her. He was a blank slate.
“Thanks for sticking around, you didn’t have to. Next time, clear it with me first, and I’ll decide what to do. And I’m definitely going to pay you for your work tonight and this morning. It’s not a good idea to get here too early, though. Just work your shift. It’s more than enough,” he said.
“Okay, sure. I promise to run it by you next time,” she said.
“Thanks,” he said, and headed back to the front.
#
Kendall sat in her room later on that night. She pulled out her cell and called her sister. Lark answered on the first ring.
“What’s up?” Lark said.
“Hey, remember I told you about Aunt Myra’s Good Samaritan trips?” Kendall asked, getting straight to the point.
“Yes.”
“Okay, so this morning’s trip was to the home of a veteran. He’s currently in the hospital up in Waco, a paraplegic from an accident in Afghanistan. He has a wife and two cute little girls,” she said.
“Okay.”
“Aunt Myra is helping to remodel his home to make it handicap accessible.”
“Sounds helpful and expensive, and he’s lucky to have her.”
“Exactly. I’ve been thinking about Myra’s finances. The cost to remodel the house, added to the cost of sending someone to college…and as I understand it, she supports other kids too. I learned tonight that she also helped provide financing to Catherine, a woman who moved here recently with her family. With Myra’s help, she was able to buy into this business, Knit One, Purl Two. She also said that Cooper was the person who’d sent her to Myra for financing help.”
“Okay…”
“She doesn’t have enough money for all she does, at least not based on what I’ve seen, and that makes us obligated to find out more, don’t you think? I mean, I applaud Myra’s willingness to give her money away, but we need to make sure she has enough to live on. Don’t you agree?”
“Yes, of course,” Lark said.
“I have this theory. Want to hear it?” Kendall asked.
“Sure.”
“I think Cooper is involved in helping her. He’s either taking care of her financially or it’s his money that she’s giving away—either way, I think he’s helping her.”
“Really? That’s nice, and if it were true, you wouldn’t have to worry. Has Myra mentioned anything about getting help from him?” Lark asked.
“No, and that’s another reason I think he’s helping her. She’s been too careful to avoid mentioning him at all in connection with her work, which speaks volumes. It’s like she’s deliberately trying to throw me off the scent.”
“You think? Why would she do that? And why would she keep his assistance a secret?”
“I don’t know, maybe he likes to keep his business to himself because he’s afraid some woman will try and take it from him. How should I know? I do know that everybody around here considers him her son, so it would make sense for him to help,” Kendall said.
“I guess you could just ask Myra,” Lark said.
“You’re right, I could.”
“You’d rather ask Cooper?”
“I would.”
“Why is that, do you reckon?” Lark said in her best Texan imitation, making Kendall laugh.
“I don’t know. I like bothering him, maybe.”
“You still ticked off about the gold-digger comment?”
“No. But he has become the red center of the target for me. A challenge, but to do what, I don’t know…Getting under his skin has its appeal,” she said. Maybe it was because he always seemed so composed, so in charge, but whenever she was near him, her normally composed self hightailed it for the hills, and so quickly too. Her mind flashed to the memory of coming to a climax in the back of his truck outside her aunt’s home. WTH, she continued to ask herself when she remembered that incident.
“I…we…again,” Kendall said, filling her sister in on her mos
t recent Cooper encounter.
“What?”
“You heard me,” she said.
“Unfinished business is what you two are, and that’s my two cents. Let me know what you find out. You owe me details. Gotta go, sis,” Lark said.
“I will, and tell Dad I said hello,” Kendall said.
“Will do,” Lark said, hanging up.
#
Lark knew that there was no chance she could talk Kendall down from that Cooper ledge anyway—a dog with a bone had less tenacity than her sister with a new idea—but that wasn’t it. Well, not all of it, anyway. It seemed as though that beer guy had really gotten under her sister’s usually easygoing skin, and that alone made him something special.
Twelve
Thursday evening
Kendall sat back against the pillows of her bed, thinking through her conversation with Lark. Her goal this summer was to get to know all aspects of her aunt’s life, which translated into a couple of actionable items. She had to verify that Myra was in control of her resources and that she wasn’t involved in any elder care scheme. Lastly, she needed to make sure her aunt could live out the remainder of her life in peace and financial security.
Kendall felt satisfied with the conclusions she had reached regarding her first and second concerns. Her aunt was giving away her small fortune, and Kendall was cool with that as long as her philanthropy wouldn’t leave her destitute. If she could confirm that Cooper was helping Aunt Myra, she could put those worries to rest. After all, he had plenty to give.
Kendall had conducted her own due diligence on all things Cooper, finding as much information as was available on the Internet, which turned out to be plenty. There were loads of money in that family’s coffers, leftover spoils from Cooper One’s and Two’s tenure at the business helm, and that didn’t even include the profits from the pub, which—as best she could tell—were being reinvested into the cooperative. She’d found a record for the sale of about 750 acres of Cooper’s land. A deal had been made with the state for about $23,000 per square acre back in 2009, for that new toll road. Her eyebrows just about popped out her head when she calculated the figure he’d brought home from that one.
She also found another article, an interview with Cooper on the subject of Coopersville’s checkered past, and it discussed his family’s role in the town’s creation, as well as the dark history surrounding it. It was in that article, almost at the end of it, that Cooper mentioned his desire to give away his family’s fortune. Interesting, she thought. It fit in with her theory about him helping Myra with her charitable efforts in town.
She had a better understanding of his wariness toward women. He was banking on a grand scale. She’d probably feel the same way if their positions had been reversed, and once again, she had mother to thank for that understanding.
He was in her thoughts so often lately, sexually—sure, she was up for some more of that—but he was also turning out to be a cool guy, and now this. Barnabus-the-philanthropist, a potentially new addition to her list, and talk about frightening, ’cause this meant that there was more to him than met the eye, more beneath the surface of him. It spoke of hidden depths, and those were the best kind.
Barnabus could be worthy of serious consideration for other things beyond sex, and yes, she was getting so way ahead of herself. She liked her men with hidden pools of substance. Soft underbellies covered up by strong exteriors were a total turn-on for one Kendall Edwards.
Helping others and those who thought to help others to try to make the world a better place were her weakness. It was the thing that always swept her feet right out from under her. It was part of the initial attraction she’d felt for Houston until she’d learned otherwise.
Slow down, she warned herself. She was just trying to figure out how much he was helping her aunt; she wasn’t here to figure out if he was marriage material.
She would ask him her questions, and hopefully his answers would put her worries to rest. After that, well, time would tell.
#
Friday evening
Cooper had pulled into his driveway about twenty minutes ago. He’d parked his truck and headed inside. Celeste knew this. She’d stood by her front window, watching him. She was planning to wait ten minutes to give him time to get settled before she walked over. She checked her watch again. It was time. She took a deep breath to calm her nerves and picked up a six-pack of beer, not the Coopersville brand but one of Cooper’s old Belgium favorites. She’d scoured the Internet in search of it. Straffe Hendrick.
She crossed the street and knocked. No answer, so she waited a few minutes before knocking again.
“Just a minute,” she heard from inside. The door opened a few moments later. He was surprised to see her, and it wasn’t a happy surprise either. He wore his oft-present look of skepticism, one that he didn’t even try to hide from her anymore. She wondered if he was even aware of it or if he just didn’t care. She gritted her teeth and held on to her smile.
“What can I do for you?” he asked, standing in the middle of his doorway, as if he were blocking her entry. Maybe she was being overly sensitive, but it was how she read his behavior.
“I brought these over for you,” she said, pulling the beers forward from behind her back. “You used to love this beer.”
“You do know I make my own now, right? That was the reason for the whole brewpub idea,” he said, chuckling.
“I know. I just remembered how you used to love this brand. A reminder of the old times, the good part anyway,” she said.
He took the six-pack from her. “Thank you,” he said.
“You busy?” she asked.
“Yes, I’m actually on my way out,” he said.
“Oh. Okay then. I won’t keep you,” she said, and stepped away from the door.
“Thanks again,” he said, holding up the six-pack.
“Yeah, sure, not a problem,” she said, turning away, and he watched her walk back to her place.
#
Kendall pulled into Quarry-golf-course parking lot, on the lookout for a beat-up grey truck. She was always on the lookout for it these days, it seemed. Lucky her, it was there, parked near the clubhouse along with a few other cars and trucks.
Tonight might be a good time to pose her questions about Myra’s projects, or maybe the two of them could do something else. She grabbed her putter and glove and went into the clubhouse to sign in.
No sign of Barnabus. She headed over to the practice area and pulled up short at the sight of him there, standing amidst a gaggle of children. She stepped back into the shadows, out of view, she hoped. He was talking while putting, and he looked so handsome, dressed in the typical golf attire of shorts and a collared shirt. Was he teaching them? She watched as the children, all under the age of twelve and of various ethnicities, tried their hands at putting while Cooper looked on, supervising them.
This was a fairly typical putting practice green, with five holes to choose from. Barnabus was in the middle of a putt now, along with a little African American girl who took her putting seriously. Kendall knew that look. It was similar to one she’d worn as a kid, when visions of making the women’s tour had danced in her head. Way too serious for her age. Kendall kept her eyes on the young girl. She didn’t flinch, eyes fixed on her ball, head down, body still, so different from Barnabus, who started laughing mid-putt. He missed his putt; the little girl didn’t miss hers.
Kendall step out of the shadows and walked over to join them.
“Professor,” Barnabus said in greeting. All the children moved forward in a pack to inspect her more closely.
She smiled. Children, she thought. You had to love them and their lack of pretense.
“Kids, meet my friend, the professor,” Cooper said.
“Professor,” he said again, smiling at her, his green eyes dancing. “It’s my pleasure to introduce you to some of Coopersville’s finest young golfers. This is Briana and Ashley, sisters, Huey and Hector, brothers, and LaDerrick,”
he said.
“I’m the oldest,” LaDerrick said, pointing to his chest. He was a little skinny, but he was a tall, handsome young man.
“He’s not that much older than me,” Briana clarified. She had been the one putting the ball, dark-colored skin, hair in braids that started at the top of her forehead and ran down her back, decked out in shorts and a polo shirt, just like the rest of the crew. New-looking golf shoes on her feet. Pretty and serious, Kendall thought.
“Hi,” Kendall said, smiling. Interesting, Briana’s little sister, Ashley, was Hispanic. Huey was brown-headed and white, La Derrick was African American too, and Hector was Hispanic. The start of a small golf United Nations of sorts, Kendall thought.
“Practice?” Cooper asked.
“Yes,” she said.
He’d seen her car pull into the parking lot earlier, since he’d been kind of on the lookout for her. He’d caught sight of her as she walked over to them, smiling as she stepped from the shadows. She was dressed in some mighty fine shorts that hugged her ass, which he was really going to spend some serious time getting acquainted with when he got the chance. He continued to watch her as they all putted. She was in her putting position—legs together, head bent down, looking as she hit her ball, and followed it into the hole. She lifted her club and turned toward him.
“Not bad,” Briana said, “your form and finish are pretty solid.”
Cooper smiled at Kendall, green eyes twinkling with suppressed mirth at the young girl’s analysis.
“Thank you,” Kendall said in response to the mixed compliment.
“Briana hopes to compete professionally someday,” Cooper said, and smiled.
“I will,” Briana said, and Kendall could tell she meant it.
For the next thirty minutes, they all worked on putting, while Kendall watched him interact with the kids.
“So you’re like a teacher?” Ashley asked, looking up at Kendall later on that evening. She’d stopped practicing and was now standing in front of Kendall, her face lifted as she addressed her. She was as cute as a button with her two pigtails slightly askew from her gymnastic pursuit—cartwheels around the putting green. She was carefree and easygoing, a contrast to her sister’s seriousness of purpose.
Games We Play Page 16
