Cooper didn’t get home until almost dark, and then he had to take care of the ranching part of his life. When he finally called Abby, it was near ten o’clock. He’d wanted to talk to her all day, but his deputy had been with him from near noon until quittin’ time, and by then his phone battery was dead.
But finally the stars lined up—the phone was charged and work was done. He sat down on the porch steps and called her.
“Hello, Cooper. How was your day?” she asked.
“Gettin’ better now that I can hear your voice.” He grinned. “How was yours?”
“Shiloh killed a coyote. The cow kicked over Bonnie’s milk bucket. My hogs got out of the pen and it had to be fixed. I came to see you and you were gone,” she answered.
“At the office?”
“Yes. A sweet little feller named Everett said you’d just left.”
“I’d love to see you right now, but it’s late.”
“Got any rocky road left?”
His heart threw in an extra beat. “Yes, ma’am. You hungry for rocky road?”
“Have been all day.”
“The door is open.”
“See you in a few minutes,” she said.
Holy shit! She had lost her mind. She had just agreed to a booty call. Her actions since she’d gotten to the canyon had been pretty sketchy, but she wasn’t that kind of woman.
What kind is that? her conscience decided to pipe up as she tied her combat boots.
“The kind that stalks a man,” Abby answered in a whisper.
Looks like it to me.
“Go away. I just want to talk to him. No sex tonight. Ice cream with him, a little conversation, and then I will leave. Plain and simple.”
She drove down the lane, past the cemetery, onto the paved road, and to the Lucky Seven, arguing with the voice in her head the whole time. If he hadn’t been standing on the porch when she drove into the yard, she might have turned the truck around and never gotten out.
He waved and opened his arms. She got out of the truck and walked into them.
“I thought about you all day,” he said.
“Cooper, we should talk.”
“I don’t like that line. It usually means that things are over.”
She sat down on the porch steps and he sat down beside her, his arm around her shoulders. His thumb made lazy little circles on her bare skin, causing her pulse to race and her resolve to just talk to fade away into the darkness.
“This is not a booty call,” she said bluntly.
“You think I’m that kind of man?” The thumb stopped moving and his whole body stiffened. “I can get sex anytime or anywhere. I thought we had more than that.”
“I’m scared,” she said.
He moved his arm from around her. “Of me?”
“Of us.”
“Me, too. This is all overwhelming.”
“What do we do?”
He wrapped his big hand around hers. “Trust.”
“That’s all. Just trust.”
He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “It covers a lot of territory.”
“What if . . .” she started.
He put a finger over her lips. “Trust doesn’t have doubts. What ifs are doubts.”
“Why doesn’t life let us see just a little into the future?”
He kissed her on the forehead. “Where’s the fun in that?”
“Bonnie said that when we were talking. I could stand a little less fun and a lot more settled.”
“Couldn’t we all. Still want that ice cream?” She nodded. “You sit right here and I’ll bring it out.”
She pulled her coat tighter across her chest and waited. Two words kept circling through her mind: trust and overwhelmed.
“Cold?” He startled her when he sat back down beside her.
“A little, but a little cold clears the mind.”
“We talkin’ literally?”
“Maybe both literally and figuratively, Cooper. We need to go slow.”
He shook his head. “I’m afraid to go slow for fear you’ll leave again.”
“How’d you know about that?”
“Rusty is my friend.”
“I needed to get out of the forest for a little while so I could see the trees.”
He laid a hand on hers. “What happens next time the trees start to smother you? Will you leave without even talking to me?”
She shook her head. “No, I won’t. It’s not fair to you or to my sisters.”
He handed her one of the two spoons he’d stuck into the ice cream. One bowl. Two spoons. Was it symbolic? Dammit! She wanted answers, not more questions.
“I don’t think you’ve completely gotten rid of those wings yet,” he said.
“Maybe not.” She dug deep into the ice cream. “But I know I belong in the canyon. That much I did get settled.”
“That’s a start.” He smiled.
“And everything has to start somewhere, right?”
He leaned across the distance separating them and brushed a kiss across her lips. “You got that right, ma’am.”
They finished the ice cream and she shivered. “Cold now, and it’s literal. I should be going home. It’s late.”
“Thanks for coming over, Abby. I’ll walk you out to the truck.” He set the empty bowl on the porch and dusted off the seat of his jeans when he stood up.
She put her hand in his when he held it out and wasn’t a bit surprised at the reaction in her body when his skin touched hers—or that she liked it.
He kissed her on the forehead when they reached the truck. “Abby, I would never hurt you. Trust me.”
“It’s not you I have to trust, Cooper. It’s me, but I’ll figure it all out eventually.”
“I know you will,” he said and waved from the porch as she drove away.
At midnight she was in her own bed. She’d beat the pillow into submission half a dozen times. She’d rolled from one side to the other, disturbing Martha so many times that finally the dog relocated to the chair. When sleep finally came, it was riddled with dreams of little girls, of Cooper walking away from her, of Malloy Ranch burning to the ground. The alarm woke her at the same time it did every morning, but she was more tired than when she went to bed.