A Fallow Heart (Tommy Creek #2)(25)

Too many loose ends dangled before her. She feared going back, feared taking on all the problems that should’ve been fixed by now. But Emma Leigh had begged and prodded until she’d given in. And now it was time to face her past.





Chapter Eight


With the corn stalks in his fields grown to full height and their green stems beginning to turn a ripe golden brown, Cooper knew his busy season was about to erupt. He’d give it another week before it was time to pick, load grain, store each bushel in bins, keep the driers working, and fix all the equipment which would no-doubt break on him. That was if the sun didn’t kill off his crop before it was ready. He’d lost a quarter of his corn already when he’d had to divert his water supply from one field to another so he could at least have some decent output.

Before all hell broke loose and picking began, he decided enjoying himself on a night out would do him a world of good. He cleaned up after supper, escaped his mother, and headed into town. Driving straight to the only tavern within a fifty-mile radius, he settled himself at the bar and ordered a brew off the tap. Listening to outdated music people played on the jukebox, he propped his cowboy boots onto the bottom rung of the stool next to him, leaned his back against the wall, and started a friendly conversation with Rio, the bartender.

“I keep telling you, Coop, you need to set up some deer blinds, put out a few corn feeders and turn your ground into one of them huntin’ ranches. You’d make a decent guide, and I hear those fellers rake in the cash. Shoot, that guide service down south of here charges half a grand just to give people permission to hunt on their land. You got enough feral hogs running wild on your place, you certainly wouldn’t be begging for business.”

Rubbing at his face, Coop let out a tired sigh. “You forget, Rio. It’s not my ground to do with as I please.”

“Aww, shoot, Coop. Come on now. Thad don’t know no difference anymore. And hell, I told him when he was working on all four cylinders he was crazy for still growing crops in this part of the state, all dried up and stale as it is.”

“My granddaddy was a dirt farmer, and my father was a dirt farmer. It’s only right for me to keep up the tradition.”

“Ain’t no money in following tradition,” Rio grumbled as he moodily flung a well-worn drying towel over his shoulder after cleaning a beer mug and putting it back on the shelf.

Cooper held in a grin, realizing Rio had just projected his own problems onto Cooper since he’d inherited this very bar from his daddy and was struggling to turn a profit. Following tradition, indeed.

“Well, I suspect there’s worse things than being poor and traditional.” He tipped his beer up for a drink and paid no mind to the two fancy couples who strolled into the joint, vaguely noticing one of the ladies was round with pregnancy.

“I thought you were taking us to a restaurant,” the pregnant woman’s escort paused just inside the entrance as he frowned around the place, “not a bar.” He scowled at the non-pregnant gal tucked up under the other man’s arm. “Seriously? You brought my pregnant wife into a bar?”

“It’s a bar and grill. Trust me, they have great ribs. I can’t help it if they sell alcohol and maybe have a couple of pool tables with some dartboards. And—Oh my Gawd!” Ripping herself away from her man, the woman lifted her hands to her eyes as if she needed to shade them from the sun to see better, though the dim interior was plenty shaded enough. “Coop? Cooper Thaddeus Gerhardt, is that you?”

Stirring to attention, Cooper glanced over and squinted at the flat-bellied gal beaming at him. He knew that grin, and yet it still took a tick for recognition to jab him hard between the ribs.

“Emma Leigh?”

“Well, I’ll be,” she hollered. “It is you.” Leaping into action, she abandoned her ritzy companions and raced to him, looking so much like the teenage girl he remembered. He blinked with startled nostalgia. Pain and tenderness clashed in his gut as he swung his boots off the barstool rung and stood to meet her. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed her until he spotted her guileless smile aimed at him. But goddamn, it felt good to see his old pal, even though he cast a quick glance toward her pregnant friend just to make certain it wasn’t her sister.

It wasn’t, thank God.

Em tackled him with a big hug and quick, smacking kiss on the mouth, her vigor making him fall back onto his barstool. Then the crazy woman damn near climbed onto his lap to finish greeting him.

He laughed and hugged her back hard. She was definitely still the same Emma Leigh he remembered despite the fact she now hung out with some highfalutin-looking individuals.

“Whoa, there.” The man she’d been all wrapped up with swept forward, his gaze narrowing on Cooper with distinct distrust even though his voice sounded more nervous than upset. “Watch where you’re putting your mouth around my wife, mister.”

Cooper frowned down at Emma Leigh still perched on his knee as she settled her back against his chest and grinned up at him. “You married now?”

She grinned and nodded, looking entirely too proud of herself.

He had to smile back. His Em had definitely become the cat who’d gotten the cream. “Well, then. What the hell are you doing on my lap, woman?” He nudged her off his thigh and watched her husband immediately fold her protectively back under his arm.