Claiming Cooper

by A. F. Crowell

  Waking up in an unfamiliar place wasn’t something I did on a regular basis, so it took me a second to get my bearings. Slowly, the fog of sleep slipped away, and I remembered where I was. Home. My racing heart slowed, and I sighed in relief. I was in my bed. Looking around, I took in the beautiful, sleek dresser and side tables. They were a gloss black and contrasted the white supple leather of my low platform bed. Raising my arm above my head, I stretched then pulled back the deep red comforter and reached over to pluck my phone off the side table.

  “Shit.” I flung the down comforter back and flew out the bed even though my muscles protested all movement, I pushed past the achiness. It was five minutes until six. I had slept through the alarm. My phone wasn’t loud enough, and I slept like the dead. The house could have exploded around me and I would have still been drooling on my pillow, none the wiser. Especially with the lack of sleep from the night before.

  Ignoring the messages and missed call from Anna, I ran to use the bathroom, then found my bags on the floor at the foot of the bed, where I had moved them when I crashed. I needed a pair of jeans, a clean tank, socks, and a hair tie to pull my board-straight, still damp hair up off my neck. Lucky for me, I was too exhausted and emotionally drained from everything to get dressed after my shower. I put on a sports bra and panties. It made getting dressed in two minutes much simpler.

  My bruises. Shit. Running, I grabbed my purse and pulled out my small makeup bag, dashing back to the bathroom. As quickly as I could, I slapped on concealer, foundation and some powder, watching the purplish-blue marks fade a little more with each layer of makeup. Once satisfied with my appearance, I bolted from the bathroom.

  Remembering my boots were still in the trunk, I slipped my feet into my flip-flops, slid my cell into the butt-pocket of my jeans, and ran out the door. With my keys and socks in hand, I made my way down the stairs and around the main house.

  My thumb squeezed the key fob, popping the trunk open as I approached the BMW. I reached in, grabbed the boots, and tossed them into the front seat of the convertible. Quickly, my hands pushed down on the trunk, closing it. Lifting the handle on the door, I swung the door open and jumped into the driver’s seat. I pressed my foot down on the brake and pushed the button to start the car. The engine roared to life and the clock illuminated telling me it was already five after six. I shifted into reverse and turned around, pointing the car toward the O’Loughlin’s farm.

  Minutes later, I parked in front of the barn where Ashton stood between three horses. The barn, my safe haven from life. I gave a sigh and took a deep breath finding peace while looking in front of me. In the saddles, were three of the most adorable little girls in matching black velvet helmets. They could not have been more than ten years old. Their excitement reminded me of myself when I was their age.

  “And here she is now,” Ashton announced as I exited the car. “Elizabeth, Rosa, and Britney, this is Kinsley. She’ll be helping me with the lesson tonight.”

  “Sorry, Ash, I overslept,” I explained, leaning on the front quarter panel of the BMW as I slipped one sock on and tried to stuff my foot into the first boot. “Hey there, girls.” I lifted my chin.

  The girls’ hands covered their mouths as they snickered from atop their mounts.

  “Why don’t we give her a few minutes to finish putting on her boots?” Ashton winked, instructing the girls to head up to the lighted riding ring then walked over to me. “You okay?”

  “Yeah, fine.” I lied.

  “I don’t believe you, but we can talk later.” He eyed me with a scowl. As he turned and trudged toward the ring he pulled his cell phone out, answering a call.

  Sighing, I hobbled over to the bench on the tack room porch and sat down with one boot and one flip-flop on.

  Attached to the barn, the tack room could be accessed from inside the barn as well as the porch. Through the screen door, I could smell the familiar aroma of glycerin soap and worn-leather. It was the fragrance of my childhood. A smile tugged at my lips.

  “Is that a new fashion statement?”

  That voice. My smile fell, and my next breath didn’t come right away.

  My entire body sprung to life. Butterflies swarmed my insides, setting my ovaries to bake. My hands shook, pinching the laces of my boots.

  I looked up from my spot on the wooden bench and there he was. Holding my hand above my brow, I tried to block out the sun that shone brightly behind him, making it nearly impossible for me to see.

  “Cooper.” With one word, my heart quaked and shuddered.

  “Kinsley.” His voice had always shot straight to my core. “It’s good to see you.”

  He strode toward me with purpose. His dark brown hair looked the same, short on the sides, longer on top. The t-shirt he wore stretched attractively across his strong, broad chest, giving definition to all his hard muscles. As he stepped onto the front porch, I rose to meet him and prayed I didn’t pass out from sheer anxiety. “It’s good to see you too. I’m really sorry about your dad.”

  As if the scene were slowed down on a movie screen, his thick arms left his sides and reached for me. In my mind, they were longing for me, begging me to run into their warmth. When they finally wrapped around me and pulled me in, I breathed him in, savoring his scent. He still smelled the same, like warm leather that had been sitting in the sun mixed with fresh basil and a hint of sandalwood. I stood there unmoving, sure if I did, the moment would be over, and it would have been a dream. Squeezing me tighter, I felt my arms move on their own, circling his waist and holding him firmly to my body afraid he would pull away too soon.

  The warmth of his body reminded me of all the fantasies and dreams I had about him growing up. It made me remember stealing one of his gray Army shirts from the side of the pool after he had been wearing it all day. I still had that shirt three years later. It didn’t smell like him anymore, but it was still his.

  “There’s a lot I’m sorry about,” he whispered against the top of my head. “I swear, I didn’t know.”

  “What? What are you talking about?” I pulled away and sat down quickly, pretending I needed to tie my boot. Oh God. Humiliation dowsed the fiery lust that had overtaken my body and mind. I knew better, but it almost felt like he could see my illicit thoughts.

  “I found out when I got home from Kuwait. I’m so sorry, Kins. I had no idea,” Cooper said remorsefully. My throat tightened and waited for the proverbial axe to drop killing my fantasy. I had this all-consuming fantasy that one day he would come to me and tell me that he shared my feelings; that he wanted me just as much as I wanted him. He would come to me and apologize for not realizing sooner; for wasting so much time. “You tried to warn me about Maggie and I wouldn’t listen.”

  My whole body went lax and my heart dropped so fast it bounced back up to my chest. “Maggie?”

  “Yeah. That night at the pool after graduation. Remember? You told me she wasn’t good enough for me,” he reminded me.

  I flashed back to that moment four years ago, at mine and Ashton’s graduation party, by the pool. Cooper had snuck and gotten beer for us, hiding it in the pool shed. When I saw him go in, I took the drunken opportunity to tell him just what a bitch I thought his wife was.

  “Shit,” I muttered. “I’m sorry, Cooper. I had no right to say anything,” I apologized, pushing myself up off the bench, feeling like an asshole once more.

  “No, Kinsley. You were right. The entire time I was deployed the second tour, she was screwin’ around behind my back. I had no fuckin’ idea.” Cooper’s fists clenched like vices as he turned and walked away.

  Forgetting why I was there, I followed him toward the barn, the opposite direction of the ring. “You loved her. You married her. You wanted to believe that meant something. I get it.”

  “It’s not just that, Kins,” he said sliding the barn door open enough to walk through. “The things I said to you. Those are things you can’t take back.”

  “It’s okay,” I assured. Tears welled in m
y eyes recalling the look on his face when he told me I didn’t know anything, that I was just some stupid kid with a crush on someone that would never love them back.

  “It’s not okay,” he said loudly, startling the horses whose heads had popped out of the stalls at our commotion. He stopped in the middle of the aisle near the feed room and hung his head. With a sigh, he whispered, “It’s not okay.”

  “I get to decide that, not you, Coop. We both said things that were mean and hurtful, but it’s in the past. We’ve moved forward and grown up.” My feet carried me to right behind him and I placed my hand on his shoulder. As if his body was as hot as wild fire, I pulled my hand away quickly. “What’s all this about anyway?” I got the sense his anger was not really about our squabble all those years ago, and more about his dad.

  “I already told you,” he said, turning to face me, his tan skin flushed. “Besides, aren’t you supposed to be helping Ashton with his lesson? That’s all he’s talked about since I got in this afternoon.”

  My skin tingled at the hint of jealousy I heard in his voice. Or at least I told myself it was jealousy. “I am, but I want to make sure you’re okay.”

  “I’m fine. And you,” he lifted his chin, “should get goin’. I’ll see you later.” Cooper looked deeply into my eyes then gave me a weak smile and hastily departed. His absence left a hollow feeling deep in my chest.

  My phone buzzed in my back pocket, stirring me from my thoughts.

  Ashton: You get lost?

  Locking the screen, I slipped it back in its place and walked up to the ring.

  * * *

  Ashton and I meandered back in the barn and hung the horses’ halters on the front of their box stalls after turning them out to pasture to roll in the cool dirt. They must have felt the need to undo all the girls’ hard work, brushing the filth from their coats.

  “Wanna go get a drink up at Howard’s bar?” Ashton asked as he turned out the light in the feed room and shut the door.

  “How about a raincheck? I haven’t seen my dad yet and I need to unpack.”

  “Okay, maybe next week. I should probably check to see if Mom or Dad need anything.” We walked out of the barn to where my car was parked.

  At the mention of their names, my heart sunk. I knew I needed to go to the big ranch house and see them, but I wasn’t ready.

  “Let them know I’ll stop by tomorrow for a visit. I don’t wanna bother them tonight,” I lied. I did want to bother them. They were like my surrogate parents and I missed them greatly.

  “Girl, don’t cha know by now, you’ll never be a bother to us,” Maria’s voice called out through the setting sun’s last light.

  “Maria.” Tears pricked my eyes even though I fought them back. Running, I met her halfway and threw my arms around her athletic frame. “It’s so good to see you. I’m so sorry about Scott.”

  Maria, a few inches taller than me, wore her fine, thin blonde hair in a long bob as she had since I had known her. On that day, like most others, she dressed in well-worn blue jeans and a soft cotton t-shirt.

  “It’s good to see you too.” She held me tightly. “I was hopin’ I’d catch you before you headed home. Scott just fell asleep, so I had a few minutes to sneak away.” She pulled back. “How’s school? You all done now? Did you graduate?”

  Her question sent my stomach into somersaults. I glanced between Maria and Ashton. “School is over, thank goodness.” Putting a fake smile on my face, I continued. “I can’t believe I’m a college graduate. It feels like just yesterday you were teaching me how to ride.” It wasn’t a complete lie.

  “If you blink too long, life will pass you by,” she said, standing in the middle of the gravel driveway. “What are you two gettin’ into tonight?”

  “Nothing, Kins was just heading out.” Ashton finally spoke up. Ashton always treated Maria as a mom more than a stepmother. She had raised him since he was a toddler. In his eyes, she was his mom and you couldn’t tell him any different.

  “I’ll stop over in the morning, okay?” I asked, walking over to the tack room where I left my flip-flops earlier.

  “Sounds good. I know Scott will be happy to see you,” she said as I opened the driver’s door and climbed inside.

  “Will do. I’ll see y’all the morning.”

  “Y’all, huh?” Ashton teased while Maria shook her head laughing.

  Flipping him off, I stuck out my tongue then started the engine, turned around, and crept slowly down the long, dusty road, careful not to throw up any small pebbles.

  When I pulled up in the driveway, my dad stood waiting at the front door.

  “Daddy,” I sang and ran to him. Just like with my mom, his arms were my safe haven.

  “Hey, Lizzybear. How are ya?” He released me and looked me over. My dad stood almost six feet, wore his salt but mostly pepper hair in short respectable fashion, and had the most adorable dimples on either side of his picture-perfect smile. He also had a beautiful olive complexion that I gratefully inherited.

  “I’m good, Dad. You know how the barn fixes everything for me. So, it was good to be out there with Ashton and clear my head.” I paused then asked, “Have you . . . uh, have you heard anything from Charlotte?” My stomach turned and instantly I was nauseous.

  “I’ve got it all under control. I told you. Don’t worry, honey. It’s being handled.”

  But I did worry.

  Greatly.

  I wasn’t a little girl anymore. My dad may always be my superhero, but there are some things he might not be able to save me from.

  I HAD BEEN AVOIDING GOING out for a week. I made excuse after excuse not to leave the safety of my parents’ house. I had not told anyone of the cryptic text message. I think I had convinced myself the message wasn’t meant for me, a wrong number. Well, that theory might have been plausible until I received two strange, unknown calls in one day. The first one didn’t bother me in the beginning, I brushed it off as just a hang-up call. I answered and heard nothing. The second one was a few seconds of heavy breathing before it hung up. These weren’t common for me and given my situation, I couldn’t help but let the anxiety creep in.

  I did escape on Saturday morning to see Scott. My chest almost caved in when I finally saw him in his recliner. He was a shell of the man I remembered and loved so fiercely. His skin, pale gray, hung from his bones, no longer tan and leathery from years of hard work on the farm but he still wore a warm, loving smile. I fought hard and managed to not lose it and sob in front of him. Gone was the man who effortlessly threw bales of hay into the barn for the boys and me to stack.

  Friday night, a week after I came home, Ashton and I pulled up in his truck at Howard’s bar on the small town, one-way Main Street. Opening the door and hopping down, Ashton came around the back to help me down from the monstrous vehicle.

  When I finally caved and agreed to go, Ashton insisted on driving. I had forgotten about his love of mud tires, loud exhaust, and lift kits. I wasn’t the tallest of women. Most would say I was down-right short. They would be right. At a couple inches over five-feet, Ashton had to hoist me up in the truck and catch me as I jumped down.

  As the door opened, I slipped my phone in my purse, not paying attention. With a hand on the armrest of the door, I not-so gracefully fell out of the truck onto the sidewalk. I had fully expected it to be Ashton’s arm that I fell into. Not his. The feeling of my chest, exposed by my choice of v-neck t-shirts, pressed firmly into his warm, wide, muscular pecs, was almost enough to send me screaming for batteries and my B.O.B.

  “I don’t know why he insisted on a truck only he’s tall enough to get into.” Cooper laughed, setting me down on the curb. Ashton was the tallest of the three boys. “You okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  I wasn’t expecting to see him tonight. My heart pounded and stood still all at the same time. My hair in a sloppy bun with only enough makeup to cover my yellowing bruises, I looked a not-so-hot mess in my t-shirt, worn jeans and heels. Breaking e
ye contact, I searched the sidewalk finally finding Ashton a few feet away, near the back of the truck, talking to Becca Walker, the homecoming queen our senior year.

  “Sorry, I didn’t expect . . .” Shaking my head I stopped myself. “Never mind. I need a drink.” I turned and looked at Ashton, who oozed his own brand of Prince Charming. “Hey, Sir Flirts-A-Lot, I’m thirsty. I’m going in.”

  The last ounce of stress about being out faded away. For the first time since my last night in Charlotte, I felt at ease. I was surrounded by people I knew would always have my back and would never fail me. I was home.

  “Hey, Kinsley,” Becca greeted me with all the sincerity of a pit viper. Her beady eyes told me she was after her next conquest. She had always had a thing for Ashton. However, one day I caught her slinking out of the boys bathroom just after lunch with Steve, my ex’s best friend. By the end of the same day she was back to rubbing herself all over Ashton like a cat in heat.

  “Hey, Bec,” I replied with a fake smile and left everyone standing on the curb.

  Pushing through the door, a serenade of heys and hellos, accompanied by the jukebox playing Dierks Bentley’s Black greeted me. From the backroom, balls could be heard crashing together from the old green felt pool table. The crisp, cool air carried the scent of old booze and desperation with a hint of stale cigarettes from days when it wasn’t illegal to smoke in bars. My heart sped up, sensing him behind me before he spoke. “This the first time you’ve been in here legally?”

  I spun around, my eyes as big as his mouth as I smacked his taut bicep. “Shush. What is wrong with you?” I turned back around to make sure nobody had heard him.

  Cooper chuckled. “What? You think they’re gonna throw you out or something?”

  “Who’s getting thrown out already?” Ashton walked up and wrapped an arm around mine and Cooper’s shoulders.