She’d never thought he’d be up already, looking so…fit. She watched him shave, taking long smooth strokes to his uplifted face. The sight of him sent tingles down to her belly. She was instantly reminded of his touch on her arm this morning. The way she ignited like a prairie fire when he held her and led her into the house.
She couldn’t tear her gaze away and a deep sense of longing besieged her.
“Afternoon, Rachel,” he said, his back still to her.
Heavens, she hadn’t noticed the glint of the mirror hanging from a nail on the barn wall. He’d seen her watching him through the reflection. Rachel wanted to die right on the spot. Slowly, she set down Johnny, who had become fidgety in her arms.
“Cooper,” she managed.
He rinsed out his blade in the blue porcelain bowl that sat atop a barrel. “Jess lent me shaving supplies. I figured I needed to clean up before starting work tomorrow.”
She swallowed. Maybe he hadn’t noticed her gawking.
Then he turned around and the full force of his appearance immediately struck her. Her mouth gaped open. My God, he was more handsome than any man she’d ever seen. Even with his face dotted with soap, and his dark hair so long it touched his shoulders. The bullet wound, open to the air now and healing, added to his rugged, earthy appeal. With the shabby beard gone the sharp, strong lines of his face appeared as though they’d been sculpted by a master.
“Rachel,” he said, his tone deep and filled with warning. “Don’t be looking at me like that.”
How could she help it? Burning heat climbed her up face. “I, um, sorry.” She averted her gaze to glance at Johnny. He was sitting down in the dirt, mesmerized by a trail of black ants crossing the yard. “Don’t touch,” she cautioned.
“I won’t,” Cooper said, and as her head snapped up, her face flamed again.
“I was talking to my son.”
“I know, but I’m talking to you…assuring you.” He wiped the remaining soap from his face then laid the full force of his dark gaze on her. So, he had seen her ogling him and thought to tell her she wasn’t appealing to him. He wouldn’t touch her. That was fine with her.
Or was it?
He rinsed his face and put his shirt on as he studied her. “I was burned in a fire some time ago.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, gathering her wits now. “When I tended your bullet wound, I noticed them. I’ve helped treat burn victims before so I recognized them as such.” She’d wondered about the reason behind those scars, but afterward she’d forgotten about them, more intent on saving her patient’s life. “Was it terribly painful?”
Cooper blinked and a frown stretched across his features. “Nothing I couldn’t endure.”
She was more than curious about the burns now, but his face had closed off. She had enough painful memories of her own to know how speaking aloud your innermost agony could ruin a perfectly fine day.
“I’d best be going now.” He buttoned his shirt and turned away from her. “Jess wants to speak with me.”
Rachel watched him head toward the blacksmith shed, swallowing her chagrin in one huge gulp. She took Johnny’s hand and walked to the house. She’d made a complete fool of herself in front of Cooper Garnett. She should feel tawdry and wanton, but at the moment, all she felt was hopelessly lonely.
Cooper cursed under his breath, walking away from Rachel and her boy. He wouldn’t get involved with her. He couldn’t. He was no good for anyone, much less her. He wouldn’t take advantage of a widow with a kid—no matter how pretty she was or how sweet and generous.
No matter how she looked at him just seconds ago, with want and need so damn obvious in her eyes. She was lonely. He knew that. He’d witnessed her at odd moments during the days and nights she’d tended him when a glimmer of sadness gave her away. Or something she’d say would ring of heartbreaking pain.
Cooper understood that all too well. In many ways, he and Rachel were alike. They’d both lost someone they’d loved. They both were scarred that way, but Rachel was ready to move on with her life. She was young enough to forge ahead with a good man and build a future. Cooper didn’t think past catching Hollings and making him pay. He had no other future. He lived solely to kill a man.
He met up with Jess by the blacksmith shed as he was putting away tools. “You a smithy, too?” Cooper asked, curious about the man who treated Rachel like a daughter.
“You can say that, I suppose. I prefer being the cook, but we all pitch in with whatever needs doing. I worked for a smithy when I was a boy and I get by with hooping a barrel or repairing equipment. You got any experience?”
“As a smithy? Some. Like you, I worked every part of a ranch before I got my own.”
Jess nodded, then eyed him carefully. “You saved Mikey Ray this morning, so I’m indebted to you, but I just gotta say one thing before we move on. It’s about Rachel.”
Cooper pursed his lips. It’d been a long time since anyone gave him a lecture. “Go on.”
“That gal is a good woman. I been with her since the start of this ranch. When Josh was alive. She loved him something fierce and the poor man got shot needlessly. Never got to know his boy. He never got to live his life with the woman he loved. Rachel had it rough, Garnett. And I’m here to tell you, don’t do anything to make her life harder.” He sighed deeply. “You get what I’m saying?”
“I already figured as much. I got it, Jess.”
Jess eyed him up and down, scrutinizing his appearance. “You’re the right age. You’re not bad-looking and Rachel’s got a pure heart. Someone’s already tried to take advantage of her and—”
Something in Cooper’s gut pulled tight. “Who?”
“That’s not my business to say. Someone she trusted betrayed her and she took it hard.”
“I won’t do that,” Cooper said. “I owe her my life.”
“You can’t stay in that house once you’re healed up.”
“I’m moving into the bunkhouse tomorrow morning. I’m here to work, that’s all, Jess.”
“All right, Garnett,” he said, studying his face carefully. “I’m taking you at your word.”
Cooper nodded and figured this was as good a time as any to explain to Jess about his name. It wouldn’t make the old man feel any better about him, but Cooper had to tell him just enough to keep everyone at the ranch safe. “About my name…”
Cooper sat at the table with Rachel as they ate a meal of roasted chicken, boiled carrots and fresh bread. She held Johnny on her lap, feeding him first as the boy shot food clear across the table, squirming in her arms and making a mess of his meal. “Johnny, I do declare you’re ornery today!”
She set him down and let him wander the room. She sighed sharply and the sweet patient look that always found her face had disappeared. “I’m sorry for the mess.”
“Don’t be,” he said as he filled his belly. “The food’s good. You’re a fine cook, Rachel.”
She glanced at him and he noted lines of fatigue around her pretty blue eyes. Guilt assailed him quickly. She’d been taking care of the ranch, her boy, cooking and cleaning and then he’d shown up wounded nearly on her doorstep. He’d been an added burden to her. He winced at the thought.
“Thanks, Cooper.”
“What do you like to do at night?” he asked.
Her head lifted and she shook it, as if deeply puzzled. “Do?”
Jocelyn used to sketch. She had a penchant for it and after Donny was born, she’d spend any spare time she had creating pictures of the three of them as a family. He’d framed the one that she’d done of them in front of their house. All those sketches had gone to ashes in the fire. “For yourself? Do you have any enjoyments?”
“It’s a joy just to get Johnny down at night so I can catch a few winks.” She spoke lightly with a grin, but Cooper only nodded, seeing through her attempt at a joke.
After he finished the meal, he rose from the table and took up the dishes before Rachel had a chance to gather them.
“Helping,” he said gruffly. “I’ll take care of these. You go on. Get Johnny down. Get some rest yourself.”
She bounded up and faced him squarely. “That’s not necessary.”
“I say it is.”
She narrowed her eyes until only a hint of blue shot out. “I can’t have you—”
“Yes, you can, Rachel. You’ve tended me for days. I can see you’re beat.”
She glared at him and shook her head.
“What? You think I can’t wash a dish? I’ve washed plenty in my day. I’ve taken care of myself for thirty-one years. Go on. Spend some time with your son.”
He shot her a look of encouragement. She glanced at Johnny, sitting upright on the floor and at that very moment, the boy lifted his arms to her and wiggled his fingers, beseeching her to pick him up. Cooper turned away from them and moved through the doorway that led to the small kitchen. He listened to Rachel’s soft voice as she spoke to Johnny in the patient way she had of dealing with the boy. Later, he heard sounds of her reading him a story. He couldn’t make out her words, but the lulling timbre of her voice soothed him and made him glad he could give her this small amount of enjoyment.
He took his time with the cleanup, listening for the quiet, and when he was sure Rachel and Johnny had fallen asleep, he entered the main room. To his surprise, Rachel sat in a chair next to the blazing fire, knitting.
“I thought you went to bed,” he said.
“Johnny’s down. But it’s too early for me.”
He studied her for a minute, unsure what to do next.
“Sit with me,” she said as she continued to transfer bright colored yarn back and forth on the needles. “It’s warm by the fire.”
Firelight flickered softly, setting a yellow glow of light around her head, making her hair shine golden and her face appear angelic. The rest of the room fell in shadows succumbing to the dreary cold night. Cooper hesitated.
She lifted her eyes to his and smiled a beautiful smile. “For a few minutes, Cooper.”
The invitation in her eyes wasn’t coy, but heartfelt, and he couldn’t refuse her. Not because he felt obligated, but because he couldn’t seem to turn away from her and the serene picture she made. He lowered onto a bench seat facing her, bracing his arms on his knees and leaning in.
She arched a brow but didn’t comment that he hadn’t taken a seat in the chair beside her. “Thank you for this time. It wasn’t necessary. You don’t have to repay me for tending you.”
“That’s exactly why I want to,” he said quietly.
Her eyes softened even more, and Cooper leaned back, away from her, away from the heat of the fire.
She went on. “It’s a treat to have a few hours of quiet time in the evening.”
“Is that your enjoyment?” he asked, gesturing to her knitting.
“Well, yes. I suppose it serves that purpose, as well. I knit things for Mr. Woodcock at the mercantile. He sells them for me. And now, with Christmas approaching I’m making gifts for the boys.”
“Scarves?” He recognized the long pull of yarn fashioned in an intricate design.
“Yes, mittens and socks and sweaters, too. It’s what they need on these cold nights.”
Cooper chuckled to himself, but Rachel had caught the grin on his face.
“What’s funny?” she asked.
“Oh, nothing. I was just remembering when I was their age.”
“And what was that?” Rachel set her knitting on her lap and smiled warmly, eager to hear what he had to say. He’d gone and done it now. If he weren’t still recuperating from a bullet meant to take his life he’d have his wits about him and wouldn’t have let her trap him into answering. But the sweet glow in her eyes and the smile on her face told him that wasn’t an option. Damn his tired mind, he couldn’t come up with a viable lie, so he told her the truth. “Most boys that age, well, when I was that age, I’d trade a sweater for a pretty young gal to hold in my arms, to keep me warm.”
He waited for her blush, something he noticed her do now and again, but she only smiled as she picked up her knitting again. “I remember. When I met Josh, it was that way. He couldn’t hold me in his arms long enough. We had quite a courtship. It lasted all of one week.” She stopped with a knitting needle ready to cross over the other. “I didn’t even like him when we first met. But he told me he’d change my mind and he did.”
Cooper only nodded, not willing to ask more questions. He feared Rachel would return the sentiment and he didn’t want to tell her more about himself than he had to. “It’s been quite a day,” he said finally.
Rachel glanced at him with a hint of regret in her eyes, and Cooper’s thoughts of getting to bed vanished. For whatever reason, Rachel enjoyed his company and he wouldn’t disappoint her. He didn’t want to see loneliness on her face, not tonight.
He sat with her for another hour, chatting about inconsequential things and learning about only what Rachel chose to tell him. He stoked the fire several times and stared into the flames as she conversed with him.
After she put up her knitting, setting the needles, balls of yarn and half-finished garments into a basket, Cooper stood when she did. Their bent bodies came up at the same time and their heads bumped.
“Oh!” Rachel chuckled, her eyes bright with laughter.
Cooper instinctively reached out to steady her. He held her arms just above the elbows. “Sorry.”
“Clumsy of me,” she said.
Cooper’s lips lifted at one corner. “You all right?”
She swallowed and closed her eyes briefly. “I’ll be fine.”
The connection between them was strong—a jarring jolt, an instant in time like the flash of bright lightning, burned through his gut and he warned himself to be careful. He rubbed her arms gently without pretense or ill intent for just one second. “Sometimes, I think it’d be nice to be that young boy again.” He sighed and dropped his hands away.
Rachel gazed at him, but he refused to return the warmth in her eyes. He shouldn’t have said anything. He shouldn’t have touched her. He took a step back. “Go on to bed, Rachel. I’ll take care of the fire.”
She paused, and in that moment, Cooper saw something in her eyes he didn’t want to see. Hope.
His next words were harsh, ruining the moment, ruining the day, but he needed to say them for both of their sakes. “You’d best be saving those looks for your beau, Rachel. Not one of your hired hands.”
Her mouth gaped open and the slap came fast and hard across his face.
“I don’t have a beau, you fool. And that look was only for what I’d lost. Certainly not for you!”
She marched into her room and shut the door firmly, but not hard enough to wake her son. He heard her slide the bolt closed.
“Good,” he muttered, glad she’d shut him out. He’d hurt her out of necessity and her shutting him out gave him no option—no way he could go into her room and ask for forgiveness. “It had to be done,” he said, mostly to convince himself.
But he went to bed that night not convinced of anything.
And hating that even more.
Cooper worked on the ranch for the rest of the week, doing minor chores that kept him close to the house. Rachel’s orders, Jess had said, and Cooper wasn’t in any shape to argue the point. Working full days taxed his strength and after supper, he usually slid into his bunk and slept soundly through the night.
Rachel hadn’t exactly gone out of her way to avoid him these days, but when she was within eyesight, she’d made sure not to send more than a glance his way. He’d seen her every day sweeping the porch, gathering eggs, laughing with Jess or sending over her baked goods to the bunkhouse, always with a smile on her face.
“You going into town tonight?” Chick Winstead asked on Saturday morning as he mounted his mare. “It’s payday.” The young ranch hand grinned, exhibiting an eagerness to spend his hard-earned cash drinking whiskey and playing faro in the saloon.
“All the boys go. We’ll miss Mikey Ray, though. His pa said he ain’t fit to come back to the ranch or do much else for weeks. Gosh, he must hate being laid up like that.”
“I imagine so,” Cooper said, filling a bucket of oats for the horses. “What time you boys thinking about going?”
“After supper. We still got to put in a full day’s work.”
Cooper had been waiting for an opportunity to get back to town. It would give him a chance to meet other ranch hands that may know Brett Hollings. “I might just meet you all there.”
“Okay,” Chick said. “We’ll look for you.”
Cooper nodded and watched the boy ride off toward the east pasture, wearing a woolen coat and a tattered scarf around his neck. Overhead, gloomy gray clouds blocked out sunlight.
He was nearly finished with his chores today—there was only so much repairing a man could do around the buildings. The real work was done out on the range, pulling free mud-stuck cows, building fences, checking on the health of the herd. This week, he’d fixed a roof over the equipment shed, repaired three stable stalls that had broken latches, helped pull a calf from its pregnant mama, and now, as Cooper glanced around looking for work, he found only one thing left to do.
But that required confronting Rachel.
Truth was, it was a damn sight easier to put her out of his mind when she wasn’t talking to him. But she was paying him to work and he wasn’t going to let a little thing like her anger get in the way of doing what needed doing.
He walked around to the back of her house and found her bringing in clothes from a clothesline stretched between two trees. She was humming pleasantly, her throaty little sounds causing him to slow his steps. He approached her, listening as the tunes settled on him with a sense of peace.
Dried leaves crunched under his boots and she turned, startled. Then her face pinched tight and she whipped her head back around. “Good afternoon, Cooper.”
He smiled at her weak attempt at good manners. “Rachel. So, you’re talking to me now?”
“I never wasn’t talking to you.” She pulled a few of Johnny’s small trousers from the line and folded them into a basket.
Western Winter Wedding Bells Page 23
