* * *
After church Dylan had walked with Harmony to her car. He’d helped get Doris settled in the front passenger seat. He’d helped get her wheelchair in the trunk. He refrained from kissing Harmony goodbye as Bill had climbed in the back and she’d taken her seat behind the wheel.
He’d kept a good handle on his emotions, pretending he walked a woman to her car every Sunday and wished he didn’t have to say goodbye. It had crept up on him, this need to hold her close. During the service he’d done a lot of praying for some common sense to get hold of his emotions. He knew he was impulsive. Impulsive had kept him in Texas for a little better than a year. Impulsive had been with him when he signed his name to legal papers giving him permanent custody of Callie and Cash.
Impulsive had taken hold of him when he proposed to Harmony. It had been a joke. He’d said it the way a person said something funny and impossible.
As much as he wanted to count Harmony off as another impulsive move in his life, she wasn’t. He knew people would think she was. That’s what they were used to from him. Some called him spontaneous. Others called him thoughtless or rash. Maybe he had doubts of his own. Of course he did. How could he trust his judgment when he’d spent almost twenty-eight years rushing into things because it felt right?
What he was coming to terms with was the fact that Harmony Cross felt more than right. She felt like forever. And it scared the daylights out of him.
He didn’t want to rush things. And he didn’t think she was ready to believe anyone wanted her in their lives forever. He had a strong suspicion that Harmony Cross doubted herself more than she let on.
What did surprise him was that she didn’t show up for the movie at Cooper Creek. She had skipped out on lunch, telling him she planned on having lunch at the nursing home with Doris and Bill. But she had accepted the offer to eat dinner with his family and then watch a movie.
Callie had been allowed to pick out the movie while in town with Dylan’s mom. The big screen was set up on the lawn, and there were lawn chairs and blankets to sit on. They’d made popcorn and thrown soda in the cooler. It mattered to him that Harmony show up.
When everyone started to ask questions, he made excuses. Said maybe she’d be a little late. He tried her cell phone and she didn’t answer.
His family didn’t say anything even though the sun had gone down and they were waiting. Dylan didn’t want to admit, to them or to himself, but fear was knocking on the door with a pretty heavy hand.
There were a lot of what-ifs going through his mind when his mom put a hand on his shoulder. “Go check on her. I’ll watch Cash and Callie.”
He did his best to pretend he wasn’t waiting for her car to come up the drive. “I’m sure she’s fine.”
“Of course she is, but you’re standing there worrying about everything that could be wrong, and if you don’t go over there, you’ll form conclusions.”
“She’s a grown woman.”
“Yes, she is. Even grown women need help from time to time.”
He grabbed his hat off the hook next to the door. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
“We’ll be here.”
He jumped in his truck and headed toward the Cross Ranch. There were no lights on inside. The barn looked pretty quiet, too. Her car was in the driveway. He headed for the house. That’s when he saw her on the porch. She smiled at him, wan, tired, close to tears.
“What are you doing here?” She evaded his gaze, and he wondered, was she good at hiding when she’d been using?
He sat down in the rocking chair next to hers, unsure. “I came for you. Do I need to call someone?”
She laughed a little but without humor. “Oh, welcome to ‘this is your life with an addict, Dylan Cooper.’ Always wondering, always doubting, always convinced they’ll fall. For the first couple of months out of rehab, my parents monitored my phone calls, my texts and they regularly checked my room, my purse and my bathroom.”
She paused, then said, “Not that I blamed them. It’s what they had to do, even when it hurt.”
He felt a sudden rush of anger that he hadn’t expected to feel. He had two kids waiting for a movie, waiting for her. He didn’t have time for games.
“Funny, but I thought you were a recovering addict, not an addict.”
“I’m 155 days clean. I mark the days off on a calendar. I’m fighting, Dylan. I came to Dawson because I wanted to fight in private.”
“Did you...” he started to ask, but then didn’t know if he wanted the answer.
She shook her head. “No, I didn’t. I told you, I’m fighting.”
“Why are you sitting out here?”
“Because when the pain is at its worst, I need a way to distract myself. I’m counting stars. I’m listening to crickets. I’m trying to get inside. This is as far as I could make it. And it seemed better out here, less lonely. The problem is, my phone is in there.”
“What can I do?” His anger had already fled and in its place, concern.
She shook her head and he saw her stiffen, then pull her legs in close. She looked up at the darkening sky. “Promise me you won’t stop being my friend. I’ve lost a lot of friends.”
“I am your friend.”
“I know that, but you have no idea how hard it is to stay in my life. I had a voice mail today from Amy’s fiancé. He wanted me to know that if I hadn’t called her for a ride, they would have been married.”
He didn’t have words to help her, not this time. He reached for her hand. “Let’s go.”
“Go? Haven’t you heard me? I’m trying to tell you this is wrong. It isn’t good for you. Tonight you wondered if I was using. You should be with Callie and Cash, not here worrying about me.”
“I can do both.”
“Where are they?”
She meant Callie and Cash. “With my mom, waiting.”
“So now your family is pulled into the drama.” She shook her head. “Don’t you see? This isn’t what I wanted for you, for your family. My life is all about drama. Amy told me that, you know. When she picked me up at the party, she told me I had to stop the drama and get help. She told me she couldn’t help me anymore. It was the last time, she said. No more bailing me out, picking me up or rescuing me. No more being my enabler.”
“I think you’ve got a few things wrong.”
She looked up, barely smiling but it was enough. “What do I have wrong?”
“I’m not here to rescue you. I’m here because you told Cash and Callie you would watch a movie with them tonight. This isn’t about you, it’s about them. They need you in their lives.”
She covered her face with her hands. “I forgot. I’m sorry, I messed up.”
“Yeah, you messed up. So come on, let’s go.” He shoved aside sympathy because she didn’t need it, she needed to live.
“You seem to think that’s an option. But the problem is, I can’t get up. I can’t put weight on my left leg. That’s why I’m out here.”
“What happened?”
“I was in a car wreck.” She smiled as she said it, and he felt a rush of relief to see she still had a sense of humor.
“Good to know. I’m glad we’re getting all of our baggage out in the open.”
“Really, what’s yours?”
“I’m in...” He’d almost said it. But he couldn’t. Not right now. “I’m in need of some drama. So tell me what happened. Today, not the accident.”
“I managed to get the lead rope on Beau, then he managed to yank me off my feet.”
“Do we need to go to the ER, or call Jesse?” His brother the doctor was used to late-night calls from his accident-prone family.
“No need for either. I thought if I rested here a while, I’d be able to make it inside.”
“How’d you get here
from the barn?”
“It took me a while. By the time I got to the porch, I’d had enough.”
He was out of the chair and he reached for her hand. “Let’s see if you can stand up.”
She took his hand. He helped her to her feet, then pulled her close and lifted her into his arms, cradling her against him. Her arms went around his neck. She was light in his arms and her hair brushed his face as she leaned into his shoulder. She smelled like lavender. Everything about her made him want to hold her close and never let go.
If he told her that, she’d demand he put her down.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“To Cooper Creek for a movie. I’ll make you chamomile tea and we’ll have popcorn with chocolate. What you need is a cartoon about miniature plant people living in a forest.”
“I love miniature plant people.”
He pulled the driver’s-side truck door open and deposited her in the seat as gently as he could. “I bet you do.”
He slid in next to her and she didn’t bother moving to the far side of the truck. Instead she stayed tucked close to his side. He shifted and then wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her against him.
He could get used to this woman riding next to him. He could get used to her needing him.
“Does this happen often?” He asked as they headed the short distance down the road to his place.
She shrugged the shoulder that nestled against his side. “It isn’t as bad as it was. The first couple of months after the accident I was in a wheelchair. There were months on crutches. Now I’m down to the cane most of the time. They say I’ll keep getting stronger and the pain will lessen. I’m never going to be the person I was a year ago. Maybe that’s a good thing.”
He listened, knowing this was another of her warnings to him. Don’t get too attached, she was telling him. He should heed the warnings.
When they got to Cooper Creek, he lifted her out of the truck and carried her to a waiting lawn chair. She looked up at him, her eyes bright, her face flushed pale in the moonlit night. He considered leaning to kiss her. He almost whispered that she couldn’t scare him off.
Cash tackled him out of nowhere. Toddler arms wrapped around his legs, just in the nick of time. He smiled down at the little boy who had just kept him from saying things that he definitely shouldn’t be saying, not yet.
Maybe not ever.
Chapter Twelve
The night air was cool, seeping into Harmony’s bones. But there were outdoor heaters and blankets, and she had Callie in her lap. The cartoon was funny and sweet, even bringing tears to her eyes in places. Next to her, Dylan whispered a teasing comment from time to time, but usually got silenced by his mother or one of his sisters. There were probably two dozen people watching the movie.
When the credits rolled, Callie slid off her lap, still clutching the blanket they’d been using. Cool air hit and Harmony shivered. Dylan stood, holding Cash, who had fallen asleep in his arms. She smiled up at the cowboy and the little boy he held against his shoulder. He was good and kind.
Callie climbed her way into his free arm and he held them both, shaking his head as he looked down at her. She knew what he was thinking, that she would need help, too.
“I’ve got this,” she spoke softly, wanting to keep it between the two of them.
Around them the Coopers were scattering, grabbing chairs, blankets and the younger children who hadn’t made it through the entire movie. A few shot curious glances in Harmony’s direction. They probably wondered about her, what she was doing here. What was she doing with Dylan?
They probably thought she would hurt him. She worried about the same thing. She could see the change in their relationship. She saw that look in his eyes, the one that said he would protect her, take care of her.
Fix her.
She didn’t want that from him. And she’d seen in his eyes tonight when he’d first showed up to get her that he also knew she could let him down.
It was a hard lesson to learn but better that he learned it now. She pushed herself up and stood gingerly, knowing there would be pain, knowing her muscles would protest. It hurt, but it wasn’t the worst pain.
“I should have brought my car.”
He shook his head, “I’ll give you a ride home. Let me get these two in the truck.”
She nodded and he walked away. And then Angie Cooper was at her side. With her soft smile and knowing look.
“Thank you for including me.” Harmony held the back of the chair and smiled at her hostess. “I’m sorry for keeping everyone later than they expected.”
“Don’t apologize. We’re a big family and nothing ever runs on schedule.” Angie slipped an arm around her waist. “Why don’t you stay here tonight?”
She looked up at the big brick home with its welcoming front porch and white columns. “Angie, I’m fine.”
“I know you are, but I also know you aren’t feeling the best. Why not stay here where there are other people?”
The offer hung between them, and then Dylan was there. He must have overheard because he smiled and took her hand in his.
“It’s pointless to argue.” He leaned close to her ear and whispered. His breath was warm, and she shivered.
“Is it?” Harmony slipped her fingers through his. “I really am okay.”
“Stay here.” He held her hand close to his side. “Mom can make you some chamomile tea. It will help you sleep. If you wake up tomorrow and need anything, she’ll be here.”
Oh, the things she needed. She smiled up at the man who thought he knew, but he didn’t. She hadn’t come here expecting him. She’d come expecting a few weeks of solitude, thinking privacy was what she needed. She hadn’t expected to find friends. She hadn’t expected her faith to return the way it had. She hadn’t expected any of this. She hadn’t known she needed this place so much.
“I’ll go inside and get a downstairs room ready for you, Harmony.” Angie Cooper didn’t take no for an answer. “Dylan can help you inside.”
“The kids are in the truck waiting,” Harmony reminded him as they started toward the house. He led her to the backyard, and the back door.
“I’m taking Heather home. She’s in the truck with them. Her car wouldn’t start. Alternator, I think.”
“I see.”
The back door led them through a utility room. Dylan reached to flip on a light, but his hand froze, and he looked at her. Pale moonlight slipped through the curtains, bathing the room in a silver glow, and still he didn’t flip the switch. Instead his hand moved from the wall to her cheek. He settled his lips against hers. She kissed him back, hungry for the warmth that came from being held in his arms. His hands brushed through her hair, his fingers threading through the curls. She shivered beneath his touch.
“Dylan.” She shook her head, pulling away from him. “No.”
“Yes,” he mumbled as he kissed her again. “Yes.”
“Your mom...”
“Is understandably avoiding the utility room because I’m a grown man and you’re a grown woman. We aren’t kids sneaking around, hiding behind trees.”
“No, that was ten years ago.”
He chuckled a little. “Yeah and if I’d had any sense, I wouldn’t have told you I didn’t mean it.”
“Did you?”
He kissed her again and then he smiled, still with his lips against hers. “Yes.”
She backed away, stumbling a little. He caught her close.
“This is too much, Dylan. I can’t do this. Not yet.” And who was she to have this moment, this man, when she had a message on her answering machine from another man, one who wouldn’t have moments with the woman he loved.
The cold reminder did what nothing else could have. It pushed her from Dylan’s arms. She didn
’t deserve his touch, his warmth.
“This is a relationship between friends, remember. We’re helping each other out. We have to remember that.” She eased away from him as she said it, holding the wall for support.
Angie appeared in the hall holding crutches and smiling. She looked at her son, a warning look, Harmony thought. And she wondered about that look. Was Angie Cooper warning her son to avoid danger, or warning him to give Harmony a break?
“We always have a pair of crutches around here, Harmony. And I think you might need them tonight?”
She took them, humiliated, sad, sorry to let go of something she knew could have been amazing. “Thank you.”
“See you in the morning,” Dylan called out as she headed toward the kitchen.
She glanced back over her shoulder. “In the morning?”
“We were going to plan Cash’s birthday party. We need to run into Grove, pick a cake, the works.”
Of course they were. And of course they had a deal and he wasn’t letting her out of it. “Of course.”
A few minutes later she heard the back door close, and Angie Cooper entered the kitchen. Harmony had taken a seat at the table on the other side of the room. Angie smiled when she saw her.
“I’m going to make you some tea. Maybe that will help you relax and sleep.” As she said it, Angie rummaged in a cabinet, pulled out a box of tea and then filled a cup with water.
“Thank you.” Harmony ran her hand over the smooth wood of the table. “Angie, Dylan and I are just friends. I want you to know that. I know everyone thinks, maybe we’ve let them think...”
Angie put the cup in the microwave and turned around.
“Harmony, you don’t have to explain.”
“I do. I know how it looks and I know you must be worried that Dylan...”
Angie shook her head. “No, I’m not worried. I’m not worried about Dylan. I’m not worried about you. Whatever arrangement the two of you have, I’m happy you have each other.”
The microwave dinged and she pulled out the cup of tea.
“But we don’t have each other.”
Single Dad Cowboy Page 13
