Daisies in the Canyon(30)

“Too late to call a man?” Abby dropped her hand over the side and rubbed the dog’s ears. “It’s only ten o’clock. What do you think, Miz Martha?”

The dog’s tail thumped against the floor.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Abby said.

Her phone was on the table beside the chair, so she picked it up and only hesitated a second before pushing the buttons. It startled her when he picked up on the first ring.

“I hoped you’d call tonight. Too tired to meet me at the cemetery?”

“Right now?”

“Or on your front porch?”

“Where are you?” she asked.

“I’m at home, but I can be on your porch in two minutes if I jump the fence and about seven if I drive over,” he answered.

“It’s cold and my hair is wet. We can talk in your truck,” she said.

“I’ll bring it in dark,” he said.

She smiled at the military lingo meaning he’d turn off the lights and coast into the driveway to avoid any noise. Not that he’d have to do that with all the music on and the shower running in the bathroom, but still, it was considerate of him.

The truck was sitting beside hers when she reached the porch. She eased out the door with Martha right beside her and hurried across the cold ground, wearing her combat boots loosely laced and flopping on her feet.

She hopped inside the truck, leaving Martha outside. The dog ducked her head and ambled back to the porch to wait.

“Sorry,” she said.

“For what?” Cooper asked.

“Martha came out with me. Now she has to wait in the cold.”

Cooper’s smile lit up the cab of the truck. “You could have put her in the backseat. Sometimes Delores—that’s my grandpa’s dog—rides back there.”

“I’ll remember that for next time,” she said. “You called this meeting, Cooper. What do we need to talk about?”

“The fact that we got the cart before the horse.”

“We sure did and it is making things weird. Do you have a girlfriend? If you do . . .”

He put up a palm and quickly said, “No, I’m not involved with anyone. I haven’t dated in a year because I’ve been so busy. Did you ask because you have a boyfriend?”

She shook her head. “No, not in a long time.”

“I really had a good time working with you tonight, but why are you learning to do any of this if you aren’t planning to stick around?” he asked.

“It’s in case I do decide to stay and become a rancher. I brought Mama’s ashes with me and I want to scatter them somewhere in the canyon before I leave, but I want to do it in the spring when the flowers are blooming. Past spring, Cooper, I don’t know what I’ll do,” she answered. “I want a place, but I want it to be the right place. I want to own property but I don’t even know if I want a ranch or just a big yard with a white picket fence around it. Can’t hurt to learn while I’m thinking about things.”

“I see,” he said.

“How could you? You were born and raised right here in the canyon. You’ve got roots so deep that a tornado couldn’t uproot you. How could you understand all these conflicting emotions I’m having?” She turned in the seat to see him better. The moonlight defined half his face; the other half remained in shadow.

“Don’t underestimate me, Abby. That quickie was as unlike me as it was you. I don’t want you to think I’m a horndog. You don’t want me to think you are loose legged. I vote that we put our mistake behind us and be good neighbors and maybe work on a friendship.” He pushed a strand of blonde hair behind her ear.

“We’re already that. Only a friend and a good neighbor would spend his whole evening helping burn mesquite,” she said. He had no idea that his hands brushing against the side of her face sent quivers of desire to the depths of her insides. Or that sitting this close to him made her want to be more than a neighbor or a friend. But she couldn’t offer more and he didn’t appear to want more, so that’s all she was going to get.

“Thank you. Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow at dinner?”

“Yes, Bonnie is cooking. If she can cook like she does everything else, it should be good.” She reached for the door handle, thankful the dark hid the slight trembling of her hands. “Good night, Cooper.”

“Good night, Abby. I’m glad we settled this.”





Chapter Eight

Abby really wanted to get the hang of plowing down so that she could move on to the next lesson in ranching. That morning she checked everything three times before she fired up the engine. The first and most important thing was to know the machinery. That done, she’d work hard on technique.

“I can do this,” she declared as she started off with less of a grind than she had the night before.

Shiloh and Rusty had left her to do her job and gone off to walk the fencerow, tightening up the barbed wire where it sagged and making sure the posts were secure. She tried to keep the furrows straight as she drove from one end of the pasture to the other. Her corners left a lot to be desired, but by the time she’d plowed under all the ashes from the brush fires, the furrows were getting straighter. Pride filled her heart. She hoped Cooper stopped by so she could show him how much she’d improved after just one lesson.