The Maverick Returns

by Roz Denny Fox

  Coop didn’t want to face Willow in this shape. She probably wouldn’t want him to console her if he smelled like a stable. And Lily, who was extra-sensitive to odors and textures—well, why put her to a test?

  Carrizo Springs wasn’t so big that one woman and a child could totally disappear. What galled him was that she’d done nothing wrong. Willow and her daughter were victims. Coop reasoned the sheriff would have the resources to find her a place to stay for the night. In small towns, churches often provided for anyone down on their luck. Convincing himself that a detour through the truck stop to spruce up could only leave him in better shape to rescue Willow, Coop slowed down and pulled off at the exit. He grabbed clean clothes and shaving gear out of his duffel, booked a shower stall and ordered a double hamburger to go. It would be hot and waiting for him when he emerged.

  He’d forgotten about Blythe’s check until he took off his shirt. He hadn’t intended to use any of his sister-in-law’s money. It was too late today to bank it, anyway, but knowing he could put it in his checking account in the morning gave him some comfort. If necessary he could use it to help Willow hire a lawyer to fight Bart. Although, Willow would balk at taking charity. Coop knew that as surely as he knew his own name. He just hoped she’d be okay with him paying any bills she might have incurred through no fault of her own.

  Feeling much better, he came out of the shower with a more positive outlook. He paid for his burger, then took it and his rolled-up dirty clothes back to the pickup. Coop polished off the food during the few remaining miles into town. The waitress at the truck stop had told him how to reach city hall, which housed the sheriff’s office and the local jail. She verified that on a Friday there’d be a deputy on duty all night.

  Coop’s problem wasn’t locating city hall, but finding a place to park his oversize pickup and trailer. Businesses were closed, but there were bars at both ends of the street and they were hopping. He finally found a spot a block away. The evening was warm; it would’ve been a pleasant stroll except that no cowboy liked to walk on concrete in boots made for riding.

  His first real piece of luck came when he discovered Sheriff Richards himself at his office desk filling out paperwork. “My name is Cooper Drummond,” he told the sheriff. “I’m an old friend of Willow Walker’s. In fact, I’ve been helping out at her ranch for several weeks. I came in from her north forty after putting in a full day’s work—to learn that Bart Walker’s laid claim to her ranch and everything on it. He said you brought Willow and her daughter to town.”

  The sheriff rocked back in his chair and looked Coop up and down. “Would you be the national bronc-riding champion Cooper Drummond?” the man asked, reaching for and tearing open a packet containing a cinnamon-flavored toothpick. He stuck it between his teeth and the spicy aroma filled the air.

  Coop frowned. “I am, but that has nothing to do with why I’m here. Do you know where Willow and Lily are?”

  “Well, now, something she said that made no sense to me earlier makes sense now. You’d be the person out of her past she felt bad about leaving behind to deal with Walker.”

  “Huh?” Coop grew anxious again. All he really wanted was to track down Willow. “Leave behind? Where did she go? How?”

  Snapping forward in his chair, the sheriff continued to study Coop, then gave a sad shake of his head. “I hate to tell you, son, but you’re too late to hook up with Mrs. Walker and her girl. I dropped them off at the Greyhound bus stop, and they boarded the seven-twenty bound for San Antonio.”

  Coop slammed one fist into the palm of his other hand. “Are you sure about that? Not that I’m accusing you of lying,” he added hastily. He grabbed his Stetson off the desk where he’d set it when he came in and bolted for the door. “I’ve got to run her down before she gets to the city or I’ll never locate her.”

  The sheriff followed him out. “Frankly, I hope you catch her. I’m sorry I had to evict her. Her husband caused plenty of trouble in town. He couldn’t hold his liquor, and he was a mean drunk. Seems to me he was cut from the same cloth as his pa. Don’t know if you’re aware of it, but Bart Walker spent about a week here talking to oilmen and plotting his dirty work with the bank before he called on me. In my position, being elected to serve all area taxpayers, my only avenue was to tell him I don’t cotton to ill treatment of women and children. That’s not the code of the West. But he left me no choice.”

  Coop slowed his pace. “Are you saying there’s oil on Willow’s ranch?”

  The man took out the toothpick and put it in his pocket. “I’m saying Walker thinks there’s oil. Somehow he heard that her neighbor to the east had drilled and brought in a gusher.”

  “That explains Bart’s sudden interest in claiming the ranch. Jeez, I hate it when bastards like that walk off with a sweet deal.”

  “Maybe Mrs. Walker should bide her time. There’s not a lot of honor among oilmen. Frank Krebs, the rancher who struck oil—his well went dry yesterday, I hear. It was a shallow pocket, and he’s out a bundle of cash on the cost to drill. Walker might just lose his shirt.”

  “Couldn’t happen to a nicer guy,” Coop said. “Although it’ll be too late to help Willow. Thanks for the information. I’ll pass it along to her. Say, can you tell me if the bus she took stops anywhere along the route to San Antone?”

  “Uvalde, I think. But you’re too far behind to catch up. Once you find her and the girl, best you can do is talk Mrs. Walker into counterfiling against Bart Walker, asking for funds from the sale of the cattle to go into trust for the child. I mentioned it, but I’m not sure she understood that she probably has a case on behalf of her daughter.”

  “Thanks again. I’m pretty familiar with the back roads that crisscross Texas. Traveling to rodeos, I hit most of ’em at one time or another. I know a shortcut up from Batesville. Even pulling a trailer with two horses, I figure at night there won’t be much traffic. Those buses go slower and have to stop at railroad and cattle crossings. With luck I may be able to intercept her in Uvalde.”

  “Good luck,” the sheriff called, because Coop had already taken off at a lope. This time he paid no heed to running on sidewalks in his slant-heeled boots.

  Out of town once again, he stepped on the gas. Everything went his way for ten miles. Suddenly, up ahead, Coop saw lights begin to flash at a railroad crossing. The arms came down moments before he got there.

  He cursed under his breath. It was nine o’clock, and Richards said Willow’s bus was supposed to leave at seven-twenty. But sometimes buses waited for stragglers, especially in these small towns.

  Damn, it was a loaded cattle train. Because there was nothing he could do except wait for it to pass, he plugged his cell phone into the pickup’s Bluetooth and punched in his brother’s number. “Sully, it’s me, Coop. Don’t rag on me if you’ve picked up on your end. Please, just listen. Your favorite neighbor, Bart Walker, came down here and had Willow and her daughter thrown off their ranch. He claims to own it. But…we can save those particulars for another day. The upshot is, Willow took off on a bus, and I got down from the upper field too late to stop her. I’m trying to head her off, but right now I’m stuck at a railroad crossing. If I find her, I plan to convince her to come home with me to the Triple D. I intend to marry her, Sullivan.”

  Coop heard Sullivan cough. He raised his voice to drown out what would almost certainly be his brother’s objections. “Pay attention, Sully. It’s taken me far too long, but I figured out I never stopped loving Willow. If she’ll marry me, I also want to adopt her daughter. Here’s how it is. You hire someone to ready the home place for us and I’ll work with you at the Triple D. Or you and I can hammer out a payment plan so you can buy out my share of the ranch. Hey, the train’s passed. I’ve gotta go. You think about my offer, Sully. Talk it over with Blythe. I’ll call tomorrow for your answer.” Coop clicked off to silence as he ended his call. Gunning the engine, he bumped across the tracks, wanting to believe the Drummond blood that ran through their veins would move hi
s brother to overlook old transgressions, real or perceived.

  He glanced up at a yellow moon, and listened to the bleat of his phone. Obviously Sully wanted to have his say. Maybe he shouldn’t have come on so strong, Coop thought, grimacing. Perhaps he should’ve taken more blame for their falling out. He pressed down a key to shut off his phone. First things first. Find Willow and convince her of his sincerity—and then butter up Sullivan.

  Chapter Thirteen

  An hour and a half into the trip Lily grew restless. Willow tried to get her to eat something, or at least drink her milk. The girl pushed both away. Willow suspected it was due to the unfamiliar surroundings. The girl didn’t really cry; she made a low moaning sound as she tried to rock in her seat.

  Afraid of what would happen if Lily had a full-blown meltdown, Willow’s stress grew. In the new age of zero tolerance for anyone causing a disturbance in a public place, no matter what the circumstances, she worried that she and Lily might be put off the bus and left by the side of the road. Willow had heard of that happening, and she felt so tense, she couldn’t even eat the sandwich she’d brought for herself.

  An older lady seated across the aisle from them leaned over and gave Lily a small cardboard book she pulled from a bag at her feet. “Children hate being confined.”

  Willow quickly took it from her daughter’s hand before she could tear any pages. “This is nice of you,” she told the lady as she returned the book. “But my daughter is…she has…she’s autistic,” Willow finally blurted out.

  “I’m sorry,” the woman said with genuine feeling. “I’m going to San Antonio to care for my six-year-old grandson who has a muscular disorder. His dad’s in the Air Force and is out of the country. My daughter needs to work to make ends meet, but Rory requires special help, and she’s worn out. Are you on your way to visit family?”

  Willow shook her head. She thought how nice it would be to count on her mother. But Belle, after too many years of being tied to an invalid husband, was finished being a rock for her daughter. “My husband died last year,” Willow said, not knowing why she was sharing intimate information with a stranger except that the woman had kind eyes and was sensitive to what it was like to have a child with disabilities.

  The woman smiled. “My name is Grace. Grace Templeton. You’re in the same kind of fix as my daughter. And your little girl is such a pretty thing. She looks perfectly fine. My grandson wears braces on his legs,” she admitted. “He can’t run and play with other kids his age, and sometimes his braces rub sores on his ankles and knees.”

  “That must be hard for him.” Willow filtered her fingers through Lilybelle’s fine brown hair. Leaning down, she kissed the top of her head, feeling close to tears. Every mother hoped her kids would be happy and healthy, and she couldn’t guarantee that for her child.

  “I don’t know much about autism,” Grace said. “I have heard it’s on the rise. I’ve seen programs on TV. Several Hollywood stars have autistic children and they’re raising money for research. There’s not enough research money to go around,” she added, ending with a sigh.

  “You’re better informed than me. I don’t have a TV.” Willow didn’t say it was because she’d sold it, along with a lot of other things to buy food after Tate died. “I’m going to San Antonio because the small towns near where I used to live don’t offer the range of services or schooling Lily should have. This is our first time taking a bus.”

  “We’re pulling into the station at Uvalde,” Grace pointed out. “Late as it is, this is the dinner stop. I’ve made the trip several times to visit my daughter. We’ll be here about an hour. There’s a cafeteria-style restaurant inside. I’d be happy to either get your food, or watch her while you go through the line. This is our last chance for a meal, and we arrive in San Antonio in the wee hours of the morning. Well before breakfast.”

  Willow glanced out at the bright lights of a larger bus stop than that in Carrizo Springs. It would be nice to share a meal and more conversation with the kindly Grace, but Willow had to hang on to every dime. She had too little left after buying bus tickets. Not nearly enough for San Antonio. How foolish had she been to set out on her own without having made arrangements at the other end? She ought to have realized no agencies would be open when she arrived. At the time she’d just needed to flee.

  “Thank you,” she told her helpful neighbor. “But I brought food, so maybe we’ll stay on the bus during the stop.”

  “They make everyone disembark here and they lock the bus, dear. I’ve seen people eat on benches that line the building. If you do, take care. Some odd characters hang out around bus stations.”

  Now Willow was more anxious. What kind of odd people, she wondered as she collected the bag with her lunch, and hoisted Lily into her arms. Panhandlers? Drug pushers? She wouldn’t like to meet those types.

  The bus driver helped her down the steps, for which she was grateful as she juggled her bag and a sleepy child. At the ranch she’d felt moderately secure. Of course she’d had Tate’s old shotgun to ward off amorous cowboys. Well, not Cooper. She hadn’t tried to ward him off. Thinking about him, thinking about never seeing him again, pinched her heart and made her even sadder as she sought out a bench where she sat, determined to get Lily to drink her milk. But Lily was equally determined not to… .

  *

  FINALLY REACHING THE outskirts of Uvalde, Coop coaxed every bit of speed he could from the Dodge. He’d ridden in a rodeo in this town and thought he remembered where the depot was. He was relieved to be right. There were two buses parked under the canopy, and people milled about the one that was just unloading. He had to park across the street and down half a block. Bounding out, Coop locked his vehicle and hurried back to join the throng of travelers. He jostled a young couple and apologized, looking wildly around in his search for Willow.

  He spotted her and Lily huddled together on a bench and his stomach relaxed. Lily clutched her rabbit. Profound relief stole Coop’s breath as he darted through a crowd of people. He got trapped behind a large man and had to stretch up on his toes to keep her in sigh. He called out to Willow.

  She turned her head. She thought she heard someone call her name, but decided she must be hearing things. Then Willow saw Cooper weaving in and out among passengers leaving a second bus, which had pulled in moments ago.

  He jogged up to them and lifted a sleepy Lilybelle from her arms. He was flushed and breathing hard. Lily yawned, but snuggled with her rabbit against his broad chest.

  Willow was so startled to see him, she was speechless.

  Coop dropped down beside her on the bench, and the sentences he’d been rehearsing for miles poured out. “Damn, Willow, I was afraid I’d miss you here like I missed you in Carrizo Springs. You must’ve known I’d run into Bart when I rode in. Thank God the sheriff told me which bus you took. Why didn’t you come to the field and get me? What if I hadn’t caught up to you here? Can you get your things off the bus? We’re going to the Triple D, at least for now. Listen, we’ll get married as soon as it can be arranged. Then, with your permission, I’m going to adopt Lilybelle.” Everything tumbled out in a rush.

  Willow had difficulty piecing together his clipped sentences. Silent throughout his speech, she began shaking her head before he’d finished. “You know what, Cooper? Lilybelle and I were afterthoughts in Tate’s life. We came after his penchant for booze, gambling and womanizing. Way after his need to stick it to you. This morning at the house, I saw you hugging your tall, sexy redhead. I know you can’t help how women flock around you, but I’m never, ever going to play second fiddle again. Nor will I be your pawn so you can stick it to your brother.”

  Coop gaped at Willow, trying to understand her refusal of his less-than-stellar marriage proposal. He frowned. “What do you mean? Redhead? I don’t know—wait! Are you talking about Blythe? Sully’s wife, Blythe? She brought me a check.” He patted his pocket. “I’d phoned and asked Sully to transfer money into my account to cover the rental of cattle truck
s to move your herd to market. Sully, being Sully, lectured me, but I guess he told Blythe. She’s always hated the gulf between us, so she drove down with funds from her clinic account. Blythe wants us all at the Triple D, Willow. I told her you’d have to agree, and I told her about Lilybelle. She promised to research school programs and other help for Lily B,” he said, smiling at the little girl. “Oh, and on the way here, I phoned Sully and laid it on the line. I told him I’d figured out that I never stopped loving you. I said we’re going to get married if you’ll have me. Will you?”

  In a halo of light falling from a spotlight on a corner of the depot, Willow saw the seriousness in Cooper’s eyes. She knew he thought she was what he wanted. “Coop, I know you probably feel some obligation to me…after the other night. But the fact that you didn’t come inside to talk after you met with your sister-in-law tells me you’re not sure about this.” Placing a trembling hand on his warm, solid chest, she tilted up her face and kissed him on the chin. “It’s okay. Bart’s showing up to claim the ranch has set you free to go back to the Triple D.”

  Cooper followed her mouth when Willow would have drawn back. He didn’t lift his head from an intense kiss until a couple of baggy-panted teens ambled past, making catcalls.

  He ignored them. “Just say yes, Willow,” he urged.

  Flushed and somewhat breathless, she touched one hand to his lips. “I’m not convinced you’ve really thought this through. You shouldn’t have to argue with your brother over your choice of wife.” She paused. “You left Jud Rayburn’s ranch because you fought with Sully. I won’t be yet another reason for you to get under his skin. It’s not easy for me to sit here and say that, Coop. Yes, I married another man, but in so many ways you were always in my heart.”