Regret tightening his chest, Coop turned his face up to Willow. “I appreciate lunch. Give me a second to get on my feet again and make my way over to the shade of that tree. I hope you brought enough food for us to share.”
She pried the cup from his fingers. Picking up the tea towel that covered the basket, she passed it to Coop, indicating he should towel his hair and face. But as he took it from her, she spotted his blisters. A hiss of air escaped her lips. “You’re finished for the day, Galahad. If we don’t treat those blisters now, you’re asking for infection. Where are your gloves, anyway? I thought bronc riders bought them by the case.”
Getting up, Coop gingerly opened and closed both fists. “I have gloves in the barn in my saddlebags, along with liniment and witch hazel. I wasn’t riding broncs today, so I guess I didn’t think I’d need ’em.”
Willow snorted. “Seems to me a horse tossed you on your head one too many times, Drummond.”
He looked sheepish, but was gallant enough to reach for the basket.
Willow smacked the top of his hand lightly. “I get that you’re a gentleman, okay? But if you tear those blisters open on this wicker handle, you’ll be one miserable gentleman.” She hefted the basket and took Lily’s hand.
“Thanks, but I’m not used to being fussed over. I’ll slap gauze packs across my hands and use gloves tomorrow.” Even as he said this, he raised his right arm jerkily and rotated it from the shoulder, grimacing as he did.
“That is, if you can crawl out of bed in the morning,” Willow said, skepticism on her face.
When they got to the old live oak, Coop eased his aching body down to the ground and carefully leaned his back against its wide trunk.
Willow, who’d retrieved his hat when he’d left it lying in the dirt beside the fence, set it beside him. Then she took a small blanket from the basket, followed by Lily’s worn bunny rabbit. The girl immediately sat on the blanket, grabbed her stuffed toy and began to rock.
“What will you do if that toy falls apart?” Coop asked casually.
“Bite your tongue,” Willow said, then sighed. “I honestly don’t know. It was a gift my mother sent when Lilybelle was born. The chances of finding another one exactly like it are slim to none.” She pulled wrapped sandwiches, a couple of apples and a plastic container of cut vegetables out of the basket. She offered Lily half a peanut butter and jelly sandwich; when the girl shook her head in refusal, Willow set the sandwich on a napkin. Passing Coop a tuna-salad sandwich and the container of veggies, Willow dropped into a cross-legged position. “A nurse at the neurologist’s office where Lily was tested gave me a booklet that explained some behaviors that are common to kids diagnosed on the autism spectrum. Some kids react positively or negatively to textures, tastes, smells, et cetera. Lily likes the feel of the rabbit’s chenille body. She likes soft cotton, flannel sheets and even the satin blanket edging.”
Coop nodded as he bit into the sandwich. Once he’d swallowed, he said, “That’s not so abnormal. I like my jeans broken in. And I dislike new shirts. I’m happier after they’ve been washed a hundred times.”
“I don’t think you’d go naked rather than wear something brand-new,” Willow said wryly. “Lilybelle would do exactly that. Following her trail of discarded clothing through the house used to be a morning ritual.”
“Why her, Willow? Why your daughter? Is autism genetic? Have there been other instances in your family? Or in the Walkers’?” Coop questioned as he unwrapped a second sandwich Willow had passed him. “Wouldn’t surprise me if it was them,” he muttered.
“The experts can’t agree on a cause, Coop. It’d give you a headache if you tried to sift through all the studies out there. Practically every specialist has a different opinion.” Willow rested her elbows on her knees and rubbed her face.
Coop hated seeing her look so distressed. “Hey, you have to eat, too. There’s no end to the work that needs doing around here. If I’m gonna knock off on the fence for the rest of today, it’d be the perfect time for us to go to town and rent that power washer and for you to choose paint colors.”
“You don’t listen, Coop,” she scolded. “Think of the rumors you’ve already heard about me. If you and I went to pick out house paint together, the whole town will believe Tate’s lies about me being a flirt…or worse.”
“They know he was full of crap. But there’s nothing that says we need to shop in Carrizo Springs. I thought we could go to Crystal City. It’s not that far away.”
“There’s still the cost, Cooper.”
He idly polished an apple on his shirt. It sounded crisp as he bit into it.
Willow sat there, unable to read his expression.
Coop chewed, then swallowed before he addressed her concerns. “If you can’t or won’t accept my help for yourself, Willow, do it for Lily. You said there’s more that could be done for her away from here. Selling the ranch will give you options.”
“Damn you, Cooper! That’s sneaky. I’ll admit Lily is my weakness.”
He almost said And you’re mine, but was able to check his response. He hid the feelings racing through him by taking another bite of the juicy apple. Appropriate, he thought with chagrin. She was like Eve in the Garden of Eden. But no way would he be her Adam! Climbing stiffly to his feet, he threw the apple core as far as he could, but almost cried out from the pain that cost him.
“Are you okay?” Willow asked softly.
“Fine. These old bones are just a bit rusty and not used to hard labor,” he joked.
She laughed briefly. “You haven’t changed. You always were quick to play on a girl’s sympathy.”
“Says the woman who insisted my hands needed doctoring.”
“Right. And we’re going to take care of them before we drive to Crystal City,” she ordered briskly.
“Does the little squirt have a booster seat?”
Guilt flashed in Willow’s eyes. “We had to have an infant car seat to bring her home from the hospital. It’s not good, I know, but since she outgrew it, and I only have the old pickup that used to be Tate’s, I have to buckle her in beside me any time I go to town. I don’t go often,” she added.
“I gathered that. A booster seat is something else to put on our list, then,” Coop said.
“Cooper, once we tally up everything I’m going to owe you, I’ll have to work two jobs somewhere else to pay you. Unless I can get a decent price for the cattle.”
“We’ll deal with it after I fatten those steers and we check out the best prices. Now, I want to see you eat that last sandwich as we walk back to the house.” Coop pressed the sandwich into her hand. Then, seeing that Lily was eating hers, he sat back down and waited until they were both finished. He watched Willow wet a napkin with water from the thermos to wipe jelly off her daughter’s face and hands. His stomach knotted. Willow, who’d spent so much of her life taking care of her invalid father had loved to socialize during their college years. Now she was back to being dead serious about life again. It didn’t seem fair. But who said life was fair?
*
AS THEY APPROACHED the house, Willow told Coop to grab any gauze pads he had on hand. “I’m not sure what’s in my medicine cabinet,” she admitted.
He headed to the barn and she to the house to return the picnic basket. He took time to wash up and change clothes, then met her on the porch. “Oh, these are good, thick pads,” she said, taking the box out of his first aid kit, and motioning for him to sit on the top step.
She knelt and bent over his hands to inspect them. Coop noticed that she’d brushed out her ponytail and had changed her blouse, as well. The tips of her fine blond hair tickled his cheek as she worked on his hand. The combination of a light perfume, the feel of her hair and her soothing fingers caused a tightening in Cooper’s groin. Old emotions swept over him in a rush. He might have touched her cheek and blown everything if she hadn’t poured witch hazel over his blisters. The sting in two of the open blisters brought him straight up off the step.
>
“Holy…cheesecake!” he shouted, revising the last part of his curse as he jerked his hand out of Willow’s.
“Sorry.” Rocking back on her heels, she studied him with darkening eyes. “I didn’t realize you’d broken any of the blisters.”
He waved his hand and gritted his teeth, because he saw Lily gazing at him as she gripped her mother’s arm. “It’s okay,” he assured the child. “Took me by surprise, is all.” He could’ve said it was a surefire way of cooling a man’s jets. And that was just as well. It was a good thing he hadn’t acted on his impulse to touch Willow. He’d gone without a woman about as long as he ever had; that explained his reaction to her nearness. Or so he told himself while Willow finished bandaging his wounds.
She stood and put the tape, remaining gauze pads, antiseptic and scissors back into the kit before setting it down on the orange crate. “I’ll leave this here because we’ll need to change the bandages again in the morning. And tomorrow, wear gloves, okay?”
Nodding, Coop flexed his fingers. “They’ll be fine in a day or two. I’ve had worse—like the rope burns I got from riding a really rank bucker. One sawed clear through my leather glove,” he said. “I’ve known bronc riders who lost fingers if they got thrown and had the rope wrapped too tight.”
She shuddered. “See, that’s why I never understood why anyone could be so enamored of rodeo.”
“It’s the thrill of pitting yourself against a thirteen-hundred-pound animal. Or in the case of bull-riding, maybe two thousand pounds.”
“Where’s the thrill in getting maimed for life—or worse, killed?”
Turning toward her as they walked to his pickup, Coop spread his arms with a cocky grin. “I give you exhibit A. Do I look maimed or dead?”
Willow’s eyes drifted over him from head to toe. “The question is, can you stay away from rodeo? Mom told me Dad quit when I was born. That thrill you talk about lured him back. I doubt it was worth spending the next twenty years in a wheelchair.”
Coop didn’t say anything. He opened the Ram’s door and let her settle Lily in the backseat. He boosted Willow into the front passenger seat, shocked by how light she felt. His hands almost spanned her slender waist. Coop was thankful he’d pulled on a pair of gloves, because her blouse rode up and otherwise his bare hands would have connected with her skin.
He was doing his best to hang on to his old anger and resentment, but things kept happening to boot out those feelings. He needed to draw a firm line. It was fine to help Willow out for old times’ sake; it’d be pure folly to let himself get attached to her again. Coop wasn’t sure he had it in him to ever totally forgive her for marrying Tate Walker mere weeks after Coop had kissed her goodbye.
He drove in silence, wrapped in his thoughts.
Content to have someone else in the driver’s seat, Willow stared out the side window, where a blazing sun shimmered off the desert landscape. A trio of dust devils kicked up and danced across the road through the scrub brush bordering the highway.
The silence in the cab got to Coop first. He dropped the sunshade and pulled a CD from the holder clipped to his visor. Country music soon wailed from the Ram’s oversize woofers. He adjusted the volume twice before he caught sight of Lily’s head bobbing in time to Rascal Flatts’s “I Melt.” His shoulders finally relaxing a little, Cooper nudged Willow’s arm. He motioned toward the backseat with his chin.
She turned. “I expected to see that she’d fallen asleep.”
“No, she’s feeling the music.”
“I don’t know, Coop. She rocks so much of the time. When I had a radio, I don’t recall her ever stopping to listen to the music.” Willow frowned. “It breaks my heart,” she murmured, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth as she watched Lily.
The sorrow in her voice clutched at Coop’s throat. When he was able to speak, he said, “I hate hearing you sound so defeated. You said there are places that treat kids with Lilybelle’s disorder.”
“I’m not sure treat is the right term. The school Ms. Baxter talked about has a curriculum focusing on special education for a variety of learning disabled kids. The children there weren’t all autistic. Some were bipolar, dyslexic, had ADD, ADHD or Asperger’s, which is actually high-functioning autism. I’m not convinced the rate of success they claim is accurate.”
“Oh? Wouldn’t success need to be measured and documented before they could advertise through medical communities?”
“Maybe.” Willow rubbed at the small creases that had formed between her eyebrows. “It costs sixteen to eighteen thousand dollars a year for tuition.”
Coop whistled through his teeth. “As much as a semester of college.”
“So far out of my reach it’s impossible to consider. Maybe that’s why I seem defeated. I want what’s best for her, but I’m short on hope lately.”
“There’s always hope,” he said. Slowing down, Coop navigated through Carrizo Springs, then sped up on the other side as he aimed for Crystal City.
Once more they let the music envelop them.
“Ah, good. They have a large department store,” Coop said, pointing to a sprawling building on the outskirts of town. “We can get Lily’s booster seat, check out paint supplies and maybe even get a power washer. Then I want to drop off my clothes at a Laundromat before we hunt up a paint store. I figure the clothes will be washed when we’re done and I’ll stuff them in a dryer while we find a place to have supper.”
Willow’s turned to stare at him. “You didn’t say anything about eating here, Cooper. And you can wash your clothes at my house.”
“What? You don’t want a night off from slaving over a hot stove?”
“It’s, uh, I’ve never tried to take Lilybelle to a restaurant, Coop. She doesn’t always handle new situations well. They make her anxious. Sometimes I wish I could crawl inside her head and understand what’s going on in there.” She twisted one hand around the other, and Coop realized she had no rings on any of her fingers. Maybe she’d hocked her diamond along with all the other things she’d sold.
“I don’t want to cause either of you any stress, Willow. I’m used to doing my laundry at a Laundromat. And don’t worry—I didn’t plan on candlelight and wine. We can get burgers and eat in the cab.”
“Uh. Okay. I’ve…well, suffice it to say I’m not used to spur-of-the-moment trips into town. If I seem overwhelmed at times, it’s because I am. It’s not that I don’t appreciate everything you’re doing for me, Cooper.”
Not certain that was true, Coop angled into a parking space and circled the pickup to open her door. He helped Willow down, then moved the seat forward and unbuckled Lily, planning to lift her out. The child reared back in fright, arched her back and bellowed.
“I didn’t touch her,” he said, glancing helplessly at Willow.
“I know.” She shouldered him aside and reached into the pickup, murmuring reassuringly to the little girl until her sobs faded into hiccups. Only then was Willow able to lever the child out, into her arms.
Coop felt awkward, and it cut deep that he’d scared Lily through his unthinking carelessness.
Willow noticed how he nervously jiggled his keys, and how quickly he’d withdrawn. “You can’t take it personally, Coop. It’s simply another aspect of the resistance to change I mentioned earlier. Managing change of any kind takes hours, days, weeks, sometimes months of repetition. You startled her, that’s all.”
At the store’s automatic entrance, Coop stood aside and let Willow pass. “Do you want a cart?” he asked. “We could get two and you can go choose a booster seat while I cruise through the equipment section for a power washer and the other things on our list.”
“I’d rather not. This store is pretty big and I don’t want to lose you,” she said. In fact, Willow wanted Coop to decide how much he was willing to spend on a booster seat. In all her married life, purchases inevitably came down to price. It made her stomach churn to even think about Coop berating her in public like Tate always had.
A little voice reminded her that Coop had said not to confuse him with Tate. How could she? Coop had never been anything but thoughtful and kind.
They went through the aisles fairly quickly despite the number of shoppers and all the displays crowding the store. Coop knew what he wanted equipment-wise. In the children’s department, he found the booster seats, but immediately turned to Willow. “I’m not sure what we need here. It looks as if the booster seats all say seven years or seventy pounds.”
Willow checked the manufacturers’ tags Coop had indicated. “Some states have strict laws about car seats. Lily outgrew her infant seat a long time ago. Tate—uh, I’m sorry for bringing him up as I know you don’t want me to mention him—but he said all the new laws were only about getting customers to spend more money.”
Coop’s lips thinned. “Seems to me the aim is to save lives. Do you want to have Lily sit in one so we can make sure the padded wings protect her head?”
Willow was able to get her to try three. Plainly the girl’s preference was for the softest, most padded of the trio. She kept stroking the material. It was also top of the line and the most expensive. Willow remarked on that, then said, “Any one of them would work, Coop, and be better than the nothing we have now. You’re not earning money at the moment. Anyway, it’s not your responsibility to provide my daughter with a car seat.”
“Dammit, stop saying stuff like that, Willow. I know what I can afford.” Coop picked up the seat Lily liked. “This one offers the most protection, right? And shouldn’t it last her the longest?”
Willow met Coop’s searing gaze and all she saw there was a true desire for her opinion. “I think this one will work best because if she likes how it feels, she won’t fuss about being strapped into it.”
“Good!” Coop put it into the cart. “We’re done here. Let’s check out and find a Laundromat, a paint store, then food.”
The Maverick Returns Page 6
