Daisies in the Canyon(31)

Speak of the devil—or the cowboy, in this instance—and he shall appear. She looked out ahead of her to see Cooper leaning on the fence separating the two ranches. He waved and her hands got all sweaty inside her work gloves. She jerked them off and tossed them over on the passenger seat. The stocking hat came off next and joined the gloves. Too damn bad she couldn’t remove her boots and socks.

When she reached the end of the row, he jumped the fence and motioned for her to stop. When she did, he stepped up on the running board and waited for her to roll down the window.

“How does it look?” she asked.

“Doing a fine job. Little crooked there on the first run, but it won’t affect the way the wheat or the alfalfa seeds sprout. Rusty said you were going to plow this morning and I was out dropping hay off for my cattle, so I thought I’d stay long enough to make sure you remembered all the gears and basics. Looks like you took to this part of ranchin’ like a duck to water. See you later if I don’t get tied up at the office and have to stay through the noon hour.” He stepped off the running board.

She shut her eyes so that she couldn’t see him walking away, but it didn’t help one bit. That jittery feeling every time she was around him was still there. She opened them just in time to see him turn around and wave at her.

She waved back and started plowing again. Like she’d told Bonnie, it was complicated. Everything, it seemed, about her and Cooper was jam-packed full of twists and turns. One minute she thought she could be friends and neighbors with him; the next minute, when he was so close she could have leaned out the window and kissed him, she wanted so much more.




Cooper was getting out of the sheriff’s car when Rusty parked the work truck in the backyard. Cooper threw up a hand in a wave and headed for the front porch at the same time Rusty, Shiloh, and Abby went for the back one. They all met in the kitchen, where Bonnie was putting the final touches on dinner.

“I’m hungry,” Shiloh said.

The house smelled wonderful, like ginger and ham and fried potatoes with onions. Abby’s stomach growled loudly and she looked up to see Cooper smiling.

“Driving a tractor all morning is rougher work than it looks, isn’t it?”

She nodded. “And I forgot to load my pockets with snacks, so I hope Bonnie made a ton of food.”

“Y’all get washed up and I’ll put it on the table,” Bonnie said.

Rusty headed for the bathroom.

Shiloh raised an eyebrow at Abby. “Mind if I use your bathroom?”

“Sure, I’ll take the kitchen sink,” Abby said.

“Kitchen sink is big enough for two, don’t you think?” Cooper asked when the others had disappeared.

“Probably for four since it’s a double sink,” Bonnie answered.

Abby squirted a small amount of liquid soap in her hands and rubbed them together. Cooper did the same, his side plastered against hers just like the last time they’d washed their hands together. He hip butted her to one side. She came back with her own hip and he chuckled.

“Bonnie, she’s not playing fair,” he tattled.

“You kids best behave or you won’t get dessert.”

Abby flipped water at him before she dried her hands. “What’s for dessert? Maybe it’s not good enough to be nice for.”

Bonnie pointed toward the bar. Abby squealed. “Hot damn! That’s pecan pie. What kind of cake is it? Doesn’t look like chocolate.”

“It’s gingerbread and there’s warm lemon sauce to go on top.”

“And I thought you were just a country girl who only knew how to make beans and potatoes,” Abby said.

Bonnie’s giggle sounded as high-pitched as a little girl’s. It didn’t match the gravel in her voice or the look in her blue eyes that said she’d seen far more than anyone ever should. “A pot of beans in our house was a delicacy, darlin’.”

“Ours, too. Mama made them in the slow cooker, but they weren’t as good as the ones that simmered all morning on the stove, like these,” Abby admitted.

“Do I smell something with ginger?” Rusty appeared in the doorway with his nose in the air.

“It’s gingerbread with lemon sauce,” Cooper answered. “I’m glad I didn’t have to give up dinner with y’all like I thought I would.”

“Why?” Rusty asked.

“Had a call that a rancher out between Silverton and Goodnight thought some kids were trying to run a meth lab out at the back of his property. My deputy and I went out there, but all we found was beer bottles and signs of lots of parties,” Cooper said.

As he talked, Abby scanned him from boot tips to pretty brown eyes, spending an extra second or two on his belt buckle. She was tired of apologizing to the voice in her head for wishing that his lips were on hers again or that his hands were splayed out on her back. Fiery heat put high color in her cheeks. She hoped everyone thought it was a combination of the cold wind outside and the hot kitchen inside rather than her scorching thoughts about Cooper.

Friends, her inner voice reminded her.

With benefits? she argued.

Don’t start something you can’t finish.

“Abby, did you get that plowing down to an art?” Cooper dried his hands on the end of the same towel she used.

“Workin’ on gettin’ used to it. Don’t know that I’m learnin’ to enjoy it yet,” she said.