Daisies in the Canyon(70)

She shifted slightly so she could raise his shirt up over his head. The kissing stopped but only long enough to get the shirt out of the way. Then she splayed out her hands on his chest. The soft hair tickled her palms.

Getting down to nothing was a slow process that required so much making out that she was panting by the time he made it to a kneeling position in front of the chair to take off her boots and jeans.

She had one moment of panic when she realized her socks were mismatched but he rolled them off like they were pure silk stockings and tossed them over to the side. She quickly forgot about them when he kissed his way from her toes to her lips.

“God, Cooper, I can’t wait much longer,” she gasped.

“I want this to be perfect.” He picked her up and carried her to the bed, where he gently laid her on the bedspread and put a knee on either side of her body. She wrapped her legs around him and arched upward.

She was so ready that when he filled her she began to match his rhythm, stroke for stroke. His lips lowered to hers again and she tangled her hands into his hair, holding his head steady.

This was not raw, passionate sex. Cooper was making love to her, and there was a major difference. It was deeper, more satisfying, crazy but almost peaceful, even though she could scarcely breathe for the emotions and desire shooting through her body.

“Abby, my God,” he said just as he took her over the edge and into the most intense climax she’d ever known.

“Yes,” she whispered as her legs relaxed and unwound from around his body.

He rolled to the side, keeping her in his arms, and for the first time Abby Malloy experienced that thing she’d read about in romance books called an afterglow. So it was real and not just a figment of an author’s imagination—and it was beautiful and warm and made things right.

They slept.

Until midnight they slept in each other’s arms. Happy, contented, and life was good. And then they awoke at the same time, laughed about her missing curfew as they got dressed, and Cooper took her home.

She was so glad that her sisters were asleep so she could keep that warm, sweet afterglow a little longer.





Chapter Eighteen

Abby sat cross-legged in the middle of the bed, her mother’s two-page letter in front of her. She’d made up her mind to stay in the canyon somewhere between the drive between the Lucky Seven and the Malloy Ranch at way past midnight. And that morning when she awoke, she thought about it but hadn’t had time to read it. The day had passed and it had stayed on her mind until evening, when she’d taken it from the accordion file of her important papers and removed it from the envelope. The first time she read it had been the day after her mother’s funeral, when the lawyer had given her the key to the safe-deposit box and told her that she was now the owner of a prime piece of property on the strip.

“I was eighteen, Mama, and in the army.” Tears flowed down Abby’s cheeks. “I was too young to be alone in the world.”

She wiped the tears from her cheeks and reread the portion of the letter she’d never understood until that moment:


My dearest daughter,

I’m writing this because it dawned on me when we said good-bye that if something happened to me . . . well, I don’t want things to end without you knowing what I want you to do. Your kiss is still warm on my cheek and you are off to your military training. I’m so proud of you and what you are doing, Abby.

If you are reading this letter, then I’m gone. Don’t throw my ashes out in the Gulf where we had so many good times. Don’t let them sift through your fingers onto the sand where we built castles and watched the sunset. Those places should always come to your mind as good memories, not final ones. I want you to wait until the right moment and the right place. Don’t fret about it, Abby. When the place and the time are right, you will know. It might be in ten years and it might be tomorrow, but you won’t have a single doubt in your mind.

As I write this letter, I’m thinking of the day you were born. When they put you in my arms, I lost my heart to you that very moment. I loved Ezra Malloy that year we were together, but I truly believe now that he was only put into my life so that I would have you. So there’s no hatred or bitterness in my heart for him or the decisions that he made. There is a degree of pity, though, because he never knew the lovely daughter who would have brought him so much joy. Death is final, but it’s not the end. My love and memories will go with you throughout your entire life.

There was more, but Abby stopped there and hugged the paper to her chest. Martha raised her head from the rocking chair and growled down deep in her throat. She cocked her head to one side as if listening and then she jumped down and started toward the living room.

Abby didn’t care if there was another stampede or two old tomcats fighting out in the yard. She wanted to sit on the bed with memories of her mother flooding through her mind and remember the good times.

Martha barked once and then there were the sounds of boots on wood before a gentle knock. The front door opened. Martha nosed her way out of Abby’s bedroom, her body pushing the door all the way open, and disappeared up the hallway toward the living room.

Abby swiped at her eyes with her shirtsleeve and laid the letter down on her pillow. She could hear Shiloh whistling in the bathroom where the shower had been running moments before. Soft laughter came from Bonnie’s room, which meant she was talking to her Kentucky friends on the phone.