Daisies in the Canyon(38)

“About round bales of hay?” she asked.

“Among a whole raft of more serious issues, believe me.” His arms steadied her nerves as he tipped her chin up with his fist and his lips settled on hers like they belonged there. It wasn’t one of those steamy kisses full of passion and heat but it calmed her, grounded her in reality. Then he drew her closer to his chest and wrapped his arms around her and she felt protected from everything. Not even the boxes under the bed mattered anymore.

“I’m not sure that was a wise idea,” she said.

“What? The kiss?” She nodded. “Maybe not, but it happened,” he said. “Let’s take a drive. Have you been to Silverton?”

“Just through it on my way to the funeral, and I was running late.”

“Then let’s go get a soft drink at the convenience store and I’ll show you the courthouse and the police station and the diner. It’s a nice little Texas town.”

It wasn’t a date. It was two friends going for a cola or maybe a beer. She could damn sure use one more that night and Cooper would be driving.




Cooper had lived next door to Ezra, gone to church with him, talked to him over the fence, but he hadn’t actually known the man. When it came to Ezra, no one really knew what made him tick or think the way he did. So there was no way he could help Abby understand the man who’d fathered her.

If Abby had grown up on the ranch next door, he might have fallen for her when they were teenagers. But she hadn’t and like she said, she had wings. That meant she could fly away at any moment. He liked her, liked her spunk and her determination to learn the business, but . . .

And therein was the problem—a woman who hated the ground she walked on would never be happy for a whole lifetime in the canyon, and he’d never be happy with a lifetime out of the canyon. He wished things could be different, that she’d stand still long enough to grow roots, but that hateful voice that argued with him said that wasn’t likely to happen.

“It’ll be pretty in the spring when the wild daisies are in bloom,” he said.

“That’s what I hear. According to the marriage license, Ezra married Mama about this time of year. Now I wish I’d asked more questions about why she was even in Texas.”

“Why don’t you ask your living relatives in Galveston?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Don’t have any. Mama was adopted at birth by an older couple who died before I was born. Mama didn’t marry until she was past thirty and then she married Ezra, who was even older.”

His truck drove on, coming out of the canyon north of Silverton. Land reached out to touch a sky full of twinkling stars with a big round moon taking center stage. “Ezra said once that he met his first wife at a wedding, the second one at a church picnic, and the third one was a waitress in a truck stop between Claude and Amarillo. Does that help?” Cooper asked as he drove down Silverton’s wide Main Street.

Abby slapped her knee. “Georgia!”

“This doesn’t look a thing like Georgia,” Cooper said.

“No, Georgia was Mama’s best friend when she was a kid. She had a picture of Georgia on the bookcase in the living room. It was taken on Georgia’s wedding day and Mama was in the wedding party. She told me about the wedding in the little white church that was in the background and how beautiful it had been with all the poinsettias and Christmas decorations. That must have been where she met Ezra, but that means they got married a month later. Holy shit!”

“Georgia who?” Cooper asked.

“Mama never told me her last name. She married a soldier and after the wedding they went to England. Their friendship had faded with the distance. I found Mama crying one day and she said Georgia had died,” Abby said.

Cooper laid a hand on her shoulder without a word. She reached up and squeezed it and then her hand went back to her lap. He moved his to the steering wheel and turned into a parking spot beside the courthouse.

“This is where my day job is located,” he said.

“That’s one big courthouse for such a little town.”

“It takes care of the whole spread-out county. Want something to drink now?”

“I thought I wanted a beer when we left home, but I’ve changed my mind. What I really want is a pint of ice cream—rocky road or praline—if there’s a place still open. I’d even share it.”

“Happy to.” He grinned. A rooster crowed, cutting off further comment about her ice cream habits, and she cocked her head to one side.

“That’s Rusty’s ringtone,” he said. “I’ll only be a minute . . . Hello, don’t tell me you are backing out of our trip.”

“No, this is a business call. Abby never came back from her walk. Her truck is here, and her sisters are on the verge of hysteria. Would you come over here and help us locate her?”

“She’s right here in the truck with me. We drove up to Silverton for ice cream,” Cooper said.

“I’m not hysterical,” Shiloh said in the background.

“Here.” Cooper handed the phone to Abby.

“Hello,” she said cautiously.

“Give me that phone,” Shiloh said.

“Oh, shit!” Abby whispered.

“Abby Malloy, we were worried about you,” she said.