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.
“Rusty? Is that you?” she called out.
She slung her legs off the bed and Cooper’s shadow filled the doorway to her bedroom. Her breath caught in her chest, still tight from crying so hard.
“I missed you today,” he said softly.
She put her hands over her face and sobbed so hard that there was a whooshing sound in her ears. Suddenly his strong arms slipped under her knees and around her back. He lifted her from the bed and carried her to the rocking chair. He sat down with her in his lap and she sobbed until only sniffles were left.
“What brought this on?” Cooper asked.
“Mama’s letter,” she whispered.
“Is that it on the bed?”
She nodded.
“And you’ve never read it before now?”
She shook her head. “One time before, but I was eighteen and still in shock and it didn’t make as much sense then as it does now. After last night, I was drawn to get it out again. Now I understand it better.”
“Abby, about last night,” he said.
She put a finger on his lips. “Don’t say it.”
“Why?”
“I can’t bear to hear that it was another mistake,” she whispered.
“I wasn’t going to tell you that, Abby. Last night was amazing. I was going to call you, but I wanted to hold you and kiss you tonight, not just hear your voice.” He traced her jawline with his forefinger and tilted her chin up.
His brown eyes fluttered shut and then his mouth was on hers, sweet at first and then deepening into something that chased all the sadness from her body and soul. She leaned into the kiss, wanting it to last forever, wanting him to simply hold her.
Martha cold nosed her bare foot and she jumped. Abby dropped her hand to pet the dog at the same time Cooper did. He wrapped his big hand around hers and brought her knuckles to his lips. Slowly, he kissed each one before he laced his fingers through hers and held her hand against his chest.
“I didn’t want last night to be a mistake,” she said.
“Neither did I, and I was so afraid you’d tell me that it was. Guess we both have to learn to trust a little more and worry a lot less. I’ll see you or call tomorrow. Good night, darlin’.” He carried her back to the bed and set her down where he’d found her. After a kiss on the forehead he was gone.
“Good night, Cooper.”