Daisies in the Canyon(12)

The Glock was hers and she fully intended to find a site at the back of the ranch, maybe up against the canyon wall, for target practice at least once a week when spring came. She’d finally learned to shoot in the army and had scored so high on target they’d thought about sending her to sniper training. But that had fallen through when she took the psych exam. She had found out early on that it was easy to shoot someone coming toward her with a pistol in one hand and a grenade in the other, but she had never been able to shake the nightmares when that had happened.

When Blake started the last song on the CD, she sat down in the rocking chair and stared out the window. He sang about his granddaddy’s gun. She’d never known any of her grandparents. Her maternal ones had been gone before she was born. Cancer took them and her mother had always feared she’d contract it early and not live to see Abby raised.

Tears rolled down her cheeks and left wet spots on her shirt. Did Ezra have guns or had he given them to Rusty? He’d probably loved his foreman more than any of his own blood daughters. She didn’t weep for Ezra or for his guns, but for what could have been, for the father she’d never known.




Cooper stretched out on the brown leather sofa and rested his head on a throw pillow when he got home that afternoon. His dog did a low belly crawl from in front of the fireplace to lie on the floor beside him. Instinctively, he dropped his hand and scratched her ears.

“It’s been a long day, Delores.”

Her tail thumped against the leg of the heavy wood coffee table.

Cooper continued to pet the dog as he replayed the day, scene after scene. It had all started when they brought Ezra’s body to the cemetery. He and Rusty were the only ones there at that time and it had reminded him of the sad day they’d buried his grandfather. That day he’d said good-bye to his last living family member. But his grandfather had been more than just family. The old guy had been his best friend, his confidant, his mentor on the ranch, and his support when he ran for sheriff. His parents had died when he was just a little boy and his grandfather and grandmother had raised him from that point on. She’d died several years before his grandfather and for those next few years it had just been him and Grandpa on the ranch. Funerals reminded him of the fact that he was totally alone in the world except for friends and neighbors.

His mind shifted back to today when the neighbors and friends had begun to arrive. They’d gathered round close together, making a semicircle around the three empty chairs. A lump had formed in Cooper’s throat as he’d looked at those chairs. What if not a single one of Ezra’s daughters showed up? He couldn’t blame them if they didn’t, not after Ezra sending them away at birth, but still, to have that final moment on earth with no family?

“But they did, even if Abby was almost too late,” Cooper told Delores. “I wonder what Grandpa would make of Ezra’s daughters? He’d have something to say about each of them, for sure. Bonnie with her nose ring. Abby in her camouflage and Shiloh with her better-than-thou attitude. I’m surprised Ezra didn’t raise up out of that casket when they filed past it. Especially Abby, decked out in that army stuff. In Ezra’s world, women stayed in the house where they belonged. They damn sure didn’t join the army.”

It must have been the funeral, but Cooper really missed his grandfather that night. Or maybe it was because he wanted to talk to him about the sparks that flew when he was around Abby. Ezra’s other two daughters didn’t affect him like that, not one bit, but that oldest daughter? Dammit, but she got under his skin from the time she’d sat down in the last chair. He’d thought his reaction to her touch might be a fluke, but then the same thing had happened at the cemetery. The feeling had been so damned strong that he’d wanted to take her in his arms, kiss those full lips, and hold her forever.

He’d have to kick the physical attraction out in the cold, because there was no way she’d stay in the canyon. And to Cooper’s way of thinking, there was no use starting something he couldn’t finish. Folks said that more babies were born nine months after a funeral than any other time because people needed to feel alive. Maybe that’s what he’d experienced with Abby . . . the desire to feel a woman in his arms as proof he was alive.

“What do you think, Delores? Is it time for me to start getting serious about finding someone to share this big old ranch and my life? It just can’t be that particular woman, even if she did throw a couple of extra beats into this old heart of mine. There’s no way she’ll stick around for the long haul. She’ll take her third of the money and be gone by spring.”

Delores didn’t answer.





Chapter Four

Unpacking was done, boxes cut up and put into the trash, duffel bags inside the suitcases and stored on the closet shelf. Boots were brushed off and set beside the rocking chair so she could put them on first thing in the morning. No fancy purple running shoes for Abby. She ran in combat boots. All she needed before she fell into bed was a quick shower, but first she wanted a breath of fresh air. The house wasn’t too warm, but the walls were closing in on her. She felt Rusty’s presence on the porch before he spoke, which gave her back the confidence that she hadn’t completely lost her skills.

“Good evening. I was just feeding the dogs,” Rusty said.

One nosed her hand and she sat down in one of the three rocking chairs and scratched the animal’s ears. “What kind are they and what are their names?”