How To Lasso A Cowboy

Chapter One

THUNDERCLOUDS HUNG LOW along the western sky, darkening Cooper Adams’s mood even further than the rock bottom he had started the day with. He stared out the grimy window of the saloon, waiting for a stage he feared would arrive on time. He was blessed with the best stretch of freshwater rangeland in Texas, and cursed with three sisters whose mission seemed to be to make his life hell.

Downing the last of his drink, Cooper thought of his ranch hands pulling double duty with a dozen sick cattle in Echo Canyon, threats of flash flooding along the breaks, and rumors of rustlers. The last thing he needed was another visit from his old maid sisters.

He knew why they were coming. The three had finished raising him when their parents died before Cooper turned ten and next month he would be thirty without a wife. The fact he had more important things to worry about than finding a bride never crossed their minds. The army in petticoats would arrive to fight for Cooper as they had all his life, even if they had to battle him on their quest to make him happy and settled.

Happy. Cooper almost laughed at the word. For him there was no such place. What did it matter if he were wed or single? The world would not suddenly become peaceful, there would still be more work than hours of daylight, and nightmares would continue to rush through his dreams. All that mattered to him was the ranch, the new colt he’d bred from the Steeldust line, and selling enough cattle up north to make it through the winter.

In truth, Cooper favored the overall idea of marriage and family. It was women in general he disliked. They were chatty, confusing, helpless, and costly. Somewhere there had to be a woman with more redeeming qualities than irritating ones, but he had no time to look for her.

He poured himself another shot of whiskey, walked out on the saloon’s porch, and watched the roots of his aversion to the fairer sex climb off the noon stage. His sisters, dusty but determined angels of matrimony. Three old maids who were worried about him.

He gulped the last of his drink and walked across the muddy street to the stage.

The sisters saw his bachelorhood as a curse and the death of the family name, yet they viewed their own single status as a blessing. After all, they had each other and enough inheritance to live comfortably in their small house in Dallas.

Cooper studied them as he neared, guessing that when they had been in their prime, no man got a word in between them to pop the question. Or maybe any suitor was frightened away with the possibility that he might have to take the whole batch if he proposed to one.

Smiling, Cooper watched the trio order the stage driver to hurry with the luggage lest they get wet in the downpour that was sure to come any minute. This was their fourth trip up from Dallas since spring and Cooper knew he would have them on his hands until the first good frost this time. Then, the bedding plants back home somehow upstaged any mission.

Cooper glanced at the clouds, wishing for an early winter. He might as well stop swearing under his breath and make the best of their visit. There was nothing he could do to stop them, short of moving to the Oklahoma Territory.

“Cooper!” Emma shouted when she spotted him moving toward them. “Oh, Cooper, we’re here. We made it! Can you believe it? We’re finally here.”

He laughed to himself. Emma hadn’t said anything that wasn’t obvious to the rest of the world since she learned to talk. Somehow, she believed that if she did not tell everyone the sun was shining or it might rain no one else in the family would notice. She was a town crier in a village where everyone could see the clock.

“Welcome, Emma, how was your trip?” Cooper took her bag.

Before Emma could answer, Johanna heaved a small trunk toward Cooper without bothering to greet him. “Oh, don’t ask Emma,” Cooper’s oldest sister shouted. “I don’t think I can bear to relive one moment of this day.”

“Hello, Johanna.” Cooper shouldered her luggage. If a sixfoot statue could come to life and wear a bonnet, he was sure she would look just like Johanna, all starch and glory. “The wagon is right over here. I’ll have you home before the rain sets in.”

She retrieved her hatbox and traveling Bible from the coach and marched to the surrey Cooper had bought a few years earlier for the sole purpose of hauling the three old maids.

“The ride from Dallas was horrible,” Emma whispered, determined to tell her story. Though she looked much like Johanna, nothing about Emma was quite as polished. Not so tall, not so proper, not so proud in her bearing. “A man smoked right in front of Johanna without even bothering to ask if he could, then when we switched stages in Sherman, the driver seemed determined to hit every hole in the road.” She shook her head, making her tiny wire glasses dance on her nose. “I thought Johanna would surely climb up beside him and instruct him on how to drive a team. Winnie could have done a better job with the stage, and we all know how Winnie drives.”

Grinning, Cooper nodded. Winnie was the only sister who’d bothered to learn to drive a team and all she had gotten was criticism for her effort.

Cooper helped both Johanna and Emma into the buggy then turned back to fetch the youngest of the three, Winnie. If Johanna was a grand harbor statue, Emma her copy, then poor Winnie was only a tugboat circling round them both. She was short, broad in the beam, and forever whistling slightly as she hurried along out of breath.

He found her behind the stage surrounded by luggage. “Welcome, Winnie.” He leaned down so he could see beneath the brim of her lopsided hat.

“Hello, Cooper Boy.” She grinned, shyly patting his cheek as if he were still a child. “You’re looking very handsome today.”

“I hope all these aren’t yours.” He glanced around at the bags, trying not to let on that her pet name bothered him. He’d struggled for six years to carve a ranch out of this wild land and, before that, he’d fought the Yankees in a war he thought would never end. The name “Cooper Boy” didn’t fit, but he could not bring himself to hurt Winnie’s feelings by telling her so. He also figured any hint of being handsome had long been weathered from him by life’s storms. His sandycolored hair was already salted with gray at the temples and worry lines usually plowed across his forehead.

“Oh, no, only one bag is mine.” Winnie continued her search. “At least, that’s all I remember packing. Johanna said I should buy a new traveling bag, and I did just before we left. Now I can’t remember just what it looked like. It was licorice black. No, cocoa gray. No, it might have been chocolate brown.”

“Come on along, Winnie!” Emma scolded from the buggy. “We are waiting on you. It’s sure to rain before we make it to Cooper’s place. And once it rains, that road will be nothing more than a muddy lake.”

Winnie lifted her dusty, purple skirt a few inches and hurriedly circled the luggage as if they were yard chickens and she could eventually catch one.

Grabbing what he thought looked to be the newest bag, Cooper held it up. “This one?”

“Yes.” Winnie smiled. “That must be it. Brown. I remember now. It was walnut brown.”

Cooper offered his arm and finally escorted his last sister to the surrey. He’d been drinking the hour he waited for the stage and now wished he had arrived even earlier at the saloon. There would be no more hard liquor in the house until his sisters departed. He wasn’t a man given overly to spirits, but his sisters’ visits usually went well when seen through a whiskey fog.

He maneuvered the horses past the flimsy buildings of Main Street with Johanna telling him how to drive, Emma commenting that Winnie was always the last to do everything, and Winnie attempting to open her new bag.

Twenty minutes later, when they arrived at the ranch house, the conversation hadn’t changed and Winnie was still trying to get into her new luggage.

“Need some help?” he whispered as he guided her down from the surrey.

“No.” She laughed. “I love a puzzle. The man who sold this to me told me the secret of opening it. I just seem to have forgotten.”

Emma climbed off the bench making the same statement she always made when returning from town. “I’ll never understand why they call that settlement Minnow Springs. There are no springs anywhere close to town and a minnow would die of thirst around here.”

Cooper didn’t bother to ask why his sisters had come. They invaded regularly, like a colony of ants, constantly on the march. He knew he’d have his answers soon enough.

When he sat down to supper, Johanna began her campaign as she opened her dinner prayer. “Dear Lord, thank you for allowing us to arrive safely on our mission to help our poor brother to find a mate.”

“Amen.” Winnie lifted her fork, then reconsidered when Johanna only opened one eye.

“And Lord,” the oldest sister continued, “help us in our quest so that our brother will be fruitful and multiply.”

“Amen,” Winnie whispered again and managed to stab a piece of roast before Johanna continued.

“And thank you, Lord, for this meal. And bless it to our bodies before we eat it.”

Winnie stopped chewing.

“Amen,” Johanna said while Cooper fought down a laugh.

Winnie continued eating, but Johanna lifted her fork and paused, waiting until she had Cooper’s full attention before speaking. “We’ve been talking, Cooper, dear, and have decided we’ve been wrong in our efforts to help you find a bride.” She glanced at Emma and waited for her nod of agreement before continuing. “I had thought we could find a nice girl and introduce her to you and let nature take its course.”

“But nature doesn’t seem to be cooperating,” Emma interjected. Raising an eyebrow at Cooper, she added, “In your case, nature seems more dead than alive. Don’t you know one woman in these parts who is irresistible? Someone who makes your heart race? A girl you simply can’t live without?”

“Don’t get carried away, Emma,” Johanna snapped. “I swear to goodness, sometimes you’re as silly as Winnie. What we need here is a woman to be his partner in working the ranch. One with strong bones so she can have a large family. You sound like he is looking for someone to be the death of him.”

Cooper thought of the unlucky women his sisters had managed to drag home so far. One who was too frightened to talk; one, still in her teens, who giggled every time Cooper looked her direction; and the final candidate, who swore she was only twentyeight but looked twice that age. They were all quite easy to resist.

Before he could take a breath and hope that they’d given up their quest, Johanna destroyed any possibility.

“We decided we should launch a full campaign before it is too late and you are past your prime.”

Emma agreed and added, “Once a man’s past thirty, he begins to fall apart. Losing hair in spots, gaining it in others. Making strange sounds and talking about his youth like it was something to brag on.”

Johanna interrupted her sister. “We have come up with a plan that cannot fail. I’ll invite every unmarried woman in the county to a party. Then you can pick one and save time. You’ve a house and barn big enough to hold everyone. If it takes feeding them all to find you a bride, we’re up to the task.” Johanna raised her fork a few inches higher. “Your sisters will not let you down.”

Emma wasn’t following the call. She stared at the ceiling and added, “A ball would be nice. A grand ball with dancing and tea cakes.” She glanced at Johanna, obviously trying to read her sister. “But maybe a country ball would have to do. An allday event, with barbecue and square dancing,” Emma added, coloring her vision. “Cooper will have plenty of opportunity in the course of an entire day to get to know the right young lady and won’t feel like we’re rushing him into anything. They could sit on the porch and watch the sunset and dance in one another’s arms.”

“I’ll make my famous potato salad,” Winnie said, finally joining in the conversation, “if I can remember the recipe.” Emma might be moving through her dream night, but Winnie has stopped at the food table.

Emma looked over her glasses at her younger sister and frowned. “I hope so, Winnie. Are you aware that you are still wearing your traveling clothes? Johanna and I changed hours ago.”

Winnie nodded, but made no explanation. After all, Emma wasn’t really asking a question, only stating a fact.

Cooper didn’t need to think the idea over. “No. I’ve no time for parties. I’m up to my ears in trouble out here and winter’s coming on. Right now every rancher, including me, is rounding up cattle for one last drive north. There can be no country ball. Not at this time.”

Looking at his sisters, he realized no one was listening to him. Emma and Johanna had already started a list of things they must do and Winnie was trying to remember her potato salad recipe while she ate. Between bites she mumbled ingredients.

“I said no!” He raised his voice. “It’s impossible.” He couldn’t think about hosting a party or finding a wife right now. He had all he could handle running the ranch. They were crazy to think he’d find one of the local girls irresistible over barbecue and Winnie’s potato salad. There wasn’t a woman in the county he wanted to face over breakfast for the rest of his life and it was time they all came to terms with the fact.

Johanna stared at him as if she’d forgotten he was in the room. “Whatever you say, Cooper. After all, you are the man of this house, even if I happen to be almost fifteen years older than you and the three of us raised you as if you were our child from the day Mother and Father died and left you this land.”

She went back to her list making. Cooper felt like he’d been sent to the corner. Standing, he walked to the door without commenting that this land had been worthless when he’d finally grown old enough to claim it and that the herd was sold the day after the funeral of their parents to buy the sisters a house in Dallas.

He would have no part of this insane country ball. Life was hard out here. No one had time for that sort of thing. The three sisters had gone too far.

Just as he crammed his hat low and grabbed the doorknob, Winnie’s whisper caught his ear. “Anything’s possible, Cooper Boy. Something can even happen when you’ve given up all hope. You turn around one day and suddenly someone you never suspected becomes irresistible.” She giggled. “It could happen.”

He hurried out the door not wanting to hear any more. Let them have their dreams and fantasies of balls. He’d seen enough of life to know the truth. There was nothing but hard work around the corner and no dances or wishing would make it any different.

Chapter Two

COOPER DID NOT return until long past when he knew his sisters would be in bed. Part of him felt guilty for destroying their dreams. He tossed his hat on the bench by the door and crossed to his desk in the center of what he called the great room, even though it was not as large or great as he’d planned.

His desk was his favorite place in the house, though. From its vantage point, he could see every room.

As he leaned into the give of his leather chair, he thought of the winter of ’63 when he’d been ill with fever and heartsick after watching most of his friends die at Chattanooga. His sisters crossed half of Texas and most of Arkansas to reach him. They hounded the doctors at the field hospital until Cooper was released into their care. He was so weak he couldn’t walk to the wagon, but they managed to carry him without asking for any help from the exhausted doctors.

Winnie drove. Johanna and Emma sat on either side of him in the back of the wagon. It had taken weeks to reach home and months before he recovered, but they never deserted him.

From his desk he could see down the hallway to the three doors that were his sisters’ bedrooms. Four years ago he’d built the house over a dugout his parents had used. He’d planned three children’s rooms, but now wondered if they would ever be used as such.

If his sisters wanted a party, maybe he could talk them into coming back over Christmas. Then there would be an excuse for one and it wouldn’t look like he was the door prize at the box supper.

Cooper glanced down at a guest list on his desk that Johanna and Emma had already started. Beside each name he could think of at least one reason why he wouldn’t want the unmarried daughter or sister as a wife. Men out here outnumbered women several times over and all that was left in most families were the illtempered and homely.

Wilson, the rancher south of Cooper, had two daughters of the right age, one with a full mustache, the other with beaver teeth big enough to down a tree within the hour. Smith, a farmer to Cooper’s north, had a sister who never missed a chance to visit. The good thing about marrying her might be that her tongue was so sharp she would make any man forget it was cold outside. Her husband would work himself to death to keep from coming home every night. Then there was Miller’s…

Cooper heard a sound and glanced up from the list. “Winnie?” he asked as his sister hurried toward the kitchen with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders.

She stopped as if she’d been caught while on a secret mission. “I…I was just getting your sewing kit,” she said without looking at him. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“That’s all right,” he said, watching her continue the journey.

A moment later, she reappeared, the cigar box he used as both a sewing and medicine kit in hand. “Cooper Boy,” she whispered, as if she feared her sisters might hear her, “could you hitch the buggy for me first thing after breakfast? I could walk to town, but it’ll be muddy. I seem to have forgotten a few things and need to make a quick trip.”

“Do you want me to drive you?” Winnie wasn’t known for turning the right direction and four miles was no short stroll. He would rather take the time to drive her than worry about her until she found her way home. “I need to pick up some lumber in the morning. If you don’t mind riding in the work wagon, we could start early.”

Winnie smiled. “Oh, no, I don’t mind, but just tell the sisters I’m riding along with you. Don’t mention my forgetting anything.”

Cooper almost felt sorry for Winnie. It must be hard to live all your life with one perfect sister and one who reminded you of all your shortcomings. “You got a deal.” He winked at her. “I’ll drop you at Debord’s General Store, load the lumber, then pick you up. We’ll be back before they think to miss us.”

“Deal.” Winnie almost danced as she hurried away. “Good night. I have to go to bed now. I’m really quite tired.” Her blanket blew behind her in full sail.

Cooper mumbled good night and began the paperwork he’d been putting off for a week. An hour later, when he lowered the wick on the lamp, he noticed the light under Winnie’s door still shone.

Even so, just after breakfast she was all ready, dressed in her same purple traveling suit, when he pulled the wagon around.

“Certain you want to go?” he whispered. “We’re sure to get caught in the rain today. Those clouds have been promising all week and so far all we manage to get are a few sprinkles.”

Winnie giggled. “A little rain won’t hurt me. Maybe I’ll get lucky and shrink.”

Neither Johanna nor Emma paid more than passing interest as Winnie climbed up beside Cooper and announced loudly that she was going along for the ride. Winnie was always the extra in the first few days after the sisters invaded Cooper’s house. She was never given an assignment in the cleaning that had to be done before Johanna could relax. Winnie had always been the extra who was called to do one task after another while the two generals organized.

But today, Cooper had the funniest feeling Winnie wasn’t running from work, but escaping on some grand adventure. She talked of how pretty the day seemed even though thunderclouds looked like a mountain range to the west. And she laughed at nothing as if she were in her teens and not a woman of almost forty.

He let Winnie out at the general store and picked up the wood he needed. Cooper took the opportunity to stop in for one drink, hoping to give Winnie plenty of time to visit. To his surprise, when he returned to the general store, Mrs. Debord and her husband said they had not seen her.

Frustrated, Cooper walked out of Debord’s General. He didn’t have time to waste looking for Winnie. His sisters always visited with the Debords like they were old friends when they came to Minnow Springs. And in truth he usually enjoyed listening to the town gossip on the ride home. Why would Winnie say she needed things, then not even bother going inside the store? If he didn’t know better, he would think she had a secret lover somewhere.

Cooper caught himself laughing out loud. Wouldn’t that be a kick to find out Winnie had a lover? If ever there was a woman born to be the maiden aunt, Winnie fit the bill. Everyone loved her for her sweet, confusing ways, but no man seemed likely to give her his name.

Cooper gazed along what little there was of the street everyone called Main. Two saloons, a hotel, a carpenter/undertaker shop, the stage and livery station, the telegraph office, and Woodburn’s dilapidated mercantile. Winnie would never go in one of the saloons. The hotel was not much better. She had no reason to see the undertaker; although sometimes Cooper felt his sisters’ schemes might be the death of him, they all three appeared to be in good health.

That left Woodburn’s Mercantile or the stage line. He headed toward the tiny store, guessing Winnie would have no business with the stage line. Johanna always booked all reservations and carried the tickets for all three sisters when they traveled.

Few locals went into Woodburn’s Mercantile. It was small and offered little choice compared to Debord’s General. The front door was so plain anyone might miss it stuffed in between the hotel and the undertaker. Cooper noticed the wind had blown off the last three letters of his sign, making the business look even less prosperous.

Miles Woodburn was a Yankee who’d settled here after the war. Most of his business came from the cattle drives and settlers passing through. He took trade for foodstuffs so folks down on their luck usually found his door.

Winnie must have forgotten about Woodburn being from the North. Like most folks in the South, Cooper tried to put the hatred behind him, but it wasn’t always easy. Woodburn’s limp reminded Cooper, even before his clip northern accent greeted him, that a half dozen years ago they might have faced one another across a battlefield. Cooper’s bullet could be the reason Woodburn limped or had a thin scar across his left cheek. Woodburn, and a thousand like him, were the reason Cooper walked the floor most nights, afraid to sleep. Afraid he would dream.

Cooper hurried across the street trying to forget memories that haunted him. He had been in Woodburn’s place a few times when Debord was out of something he needed. Most of the merchandise was dusty on the shelf. Poor Winnie would never find what she was looking for in a place like that.

As he stepped onto the planked porch, he thought he saw Woodburn unloading a wagon at the side entrance, but Cooper pretended not to notice the man. They would nod at one another, but they weren’t the “pass the time of day” kind of acquaintances.

When Cooper pushed the door open, he heard Winnie’s musical giggle. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the store’s shadowy light. Clothing hung from the rafters like floating ghosts and the smell of spices thickened the molasses air.

Winnie leaned over the counter helping a slender woman wrap purchases into one square of brown paper. She giggled again as items slipped from her grip.

“Maybe we should put it in two bundles.” Winnie laughed.

“Maybe.” The young woman answered without a hint of southern accent in her voice. “Or you can hold it closed and just bind everything else up with your hands.”

Winnie finally noticed Cooper moving toward her. “Oh, Cooper. I’m sorry I’m late. You see, Mary and I were just wrapping the few things I bought.”

Cooper met the young woman’s stare. She was as plain as her name with bluegray eyes. Stormy day eyes, he thought, deciding she must be Woodburn’s sister. He’d heard folks talk about her, said she was a real bookworm, reading, instead of dusting, when the store wasn’t busy.

“Morning, miss.” Cooper removed his hat. There was no reason not to be polite, no matter whose sister she was. To be honest, he must have seen her before. The town was too little to miss anyone for long. But he couldn’t remember her.

“Good morning,” she answered. A hint of fear darkened her eyes as she studied him. “We could use some help, Mr. Adams,” she finally said, “if you don’t mind.”

He wasn’t surprised she knew his name, but the alarm he’d seen cross her gaze startled him. The woman had no reason to be afraid of him. He meant her no harm. Unfriendly to her brother, maybe, but no danger to her.

Cooper set his hat down and offered his support to holding the packages together. His large hands made easy work of the chore. Mary wrapped the string around tightly. When she leaned closer to him to tie the knot, a strange fragrance rattled through his senses. She smelled of freshbaked bread and spices, and spring water and blankets warmed in front of an open fire.

The scent of her was nothing like he would’ve expected.

She was plain, washed away even more in her faded brown dress. Yet there was nothing false or bottled about the aroma in the air when she stood so close.

“I’m finished,” she said a few inches from his ear. “You can let go now.”

Cooper stood back, embarrassed that he’d leaned so close. He crammed his hat low on his head and picked up the purchase. “I’d say you forgot quite a few things.” He teased Winnie as he nodded politely to Mary.

“You won’t tell the sisters, will you? I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“I promise,” he said without glancing back toward the girl. Winnie had always called Johanna and Emma “the sisters” as if they were a matching set of bookends.

When he turned to leave, Winnie stopped him, taking the bundle from his hands. “I did buy one more thing. Mary will show you while I say goodbye to Mr. Woodburn.”

Cooper had no choice but to follow Mary to the back of the store as Winnie headed out the front.

“I hope my sister wasn’t any trouble to you.” He was searching for something to say. “Sometimes she can get to talking and…”

“She was no trouble,” Mary told him. “She’s a treasure.”

Cooper tried to see the woman’s face as she wound around counters and shelves. Surely she was kidding. He loved his sister dearly, but few others saw her charm.

As they passed into the crowded storage room, Cooper had to duck to keep from hitting rusting clutter hanging from the rafters. The place was a wreck, boxes, empty trunks, old furniture stacked, piled, and hanging everywhere, skeletons from a better day.

Mary stopped so suddenly, Cooper bumped into her. He gripped her shoulders in an effort to steady both himself and her.

“I’m sorry,” he said against the back of her hair.

The smell of her surrounded him once more. That clean, fresh fragrance almost made him believe there was still a kindness in the world he once saw as a child. He’d take that aroma over any he’d ever smelled from a bottle, but he couldn’t name exactly what it was.

Twisting suddenly from his grip, Mary backed away. Even in the shadows, he saw the fear in her eyes.

“I’m sorry, miss. I didn’t mean to slam into you.” Cooper felt as clumsy as a drunk staggering on the street. “I was looking up trying not to bump my head when you stopped.”

She watched him for a moment as if considering screaming for help. Then, slowly, she took a deep breath and seemed to force herself to relax. “It’s understandable. This room can be traitorous at times.”

No smile softened her words.

He found himself studying her closely, wishing he understood her. There were secrets behind her cautious eyes. Secrets he wasn’t sure he was brave enough to investigate. She’d been hurt by a man, sometime, someplace, and as the brother of three sisters, Cooper hated to think of any woman being harmed.

“Your sister’s purchase.” Mary pointed to a huge wooden rocker hanging from nails on the back wall. “I wasn’t strong enough to lift it down.”

Cooper evaluated the ugly chair. Too large, too old, too scarred to be of much use. “Are you sure Winnie bought this?” He felt like a fool for asking even before the words were out of his mouth.

Mary nodded. “She asked if we had a rocker and insisted on this one the minute she saw it. She said something about every woman should have a rocker sitting next to her hope chest.”

Groaning, he reached for the chair. When he’d been a kid, he remembered his sisters having hope chests filled with what they called “someday items.” Surely Winnie had given up on the idea of someday having her own home and family.

As he lifted the heavy oak from the wall, his hat tumbled. Cooper twisted trying to find a place on the floor to set the chair while he retrieved his hat. There was no room.

“I’ll get it,” Mary finally offered, squeezing past him and the chair.

When she leaned up and placed the hat back on his head, her body brushed against his arm. Cooper flinched like he’d been hit by a cannonball in the gut. Her nearness in the shadows was the most intimate feeling he had ever known. He wasn’t some schoolboy who had never been close to a woman, but every part of his being reacted to her.

For one moment, totally by accident, they had connected. He felt as if, with her slight movement, she’d somehow brushed against his beating heart.

He forced himself to move, to follow her back to the front of the store and out the door. He was being foolish. Nothing had happened between them. They had touched by accident, nothing more. He wasn’t even attracted to her. But for all his bravery, he couldn’t force himself to look at Mary Woodburn.

Maybe she hadn’t noticed a thing.

Maybe she was still as afraid of him as she had been earlier.

If he met her expressive eyes, he would know. She couldn’t hide the truth any more than she could hide her fear.

One thought kept his gaze on the ground. What if, when they touched, she’d felt the slight shift in the earth he had? By magic, or witchcraft, or pure fantasy, what if they both had felt it? What if the shy little woman truly had touched his heart?

Chapter Three

MARY WOODBURN STOOD at the window of her brother’s store and watched the tall cattleman maneuver his wagon down the muddy street. He seemed hard as leather, yet he’d worried about her when they bumped together. A kindness lay just beneath his weathered toughness; a kindness she’d guess might be there when she observed him moving about town.

“Best stop your dreaming, girl,” her brother said when he noticed her staring. “He wouldn’t give you the time of day, that one. Only reason he spoke to you now was because you were so nice to his sister.”

“You don’t know, Miles. Maybe he’s different.”

“If there’s one thing I do know it’s the men in these parts.” Miles blocked her view of Cooper Adams. “They’re a wild bunch, probably only half tame when the war called them and completely loco when they came home. The fellows out here are too wild to live in respectable towns. Murderers. Thieves. Rebels. And worse even than the Johnny Rebs are the deserters who hid out in these parts refusing to fight.” He mumbled the same things he had said for years. “I might hate the Rebs, but at least I can respect them. For all you know that Adams was one of the worst.”

Mary didn’t want to hear any more of her brother’s neverending lecture. “But Adams took good care of his sister just now. He was kind to her even though I could tell he was in a hurry.”

Miles nodded. “That he did. I’ll give him that much. A nice lady like that must be pained having such a mean brother.”

“You don’t know he’s worthless or mean. Winnie says he’s killing himself trying to run his ranch all alone without a wife to help him.”

Miles frowned at her as if he felt truly sorry for her. “Mary, don’t go making up some story in your head. There are no ‘happyeverafters’ out here. You know firsthand how mean these men can be.”

Mary felt her face redden. She quickly backed into the corner so her brother wouldn’t see how his words had hurt her.

“I’m sorry.” He cleared his throat.

“I don’t need reminding,” she whispered.

“I know. I just don’t want to see you hurt again.”

She watched Miles limp toward the back of the store. He didn’t mean to be cruel, he’d just hardened a long time ago.

Mary shoved a tear from her cheek. She was slowly mirroring him. Before long they’d be made of rock. The first two petrified humans to still be breathing.

Maybe Cooper Adams wasn’t mean or even worthless, but she knew he was not for her. She didn’t want to marry a rancher and look like she was fifty by the time she turned thirty. She had seen the settlers’ women come in the mercantile with children hanging all over them while they traded their last family heirloom for a month’s worth of groceries.

She’d been told there were only two kinds of women out here, wives and whores, but as long as she had her brother to live with she would be neither. She’d stay here hiding. Invisible.

Chapter Four

“SHE’S SURE NOT the girl for me,” Cooper mumbled as he rode along the north border of his ranch toward the breaks. He had tried not to think of Mary Woodburn when he drove back from town with Winnie chatting at his side or while he’d unloaded the lumber. He tried, but he hadn’t succeeded. He must have relived their short time together a hundred times during the night.

The memory of her touch was a way to help him through the night, nothing more. Anything was better than remembering the battles.

Now, this morning, no matter how many times he told himself he had more important things to think about, thoughts of her wormed their way into his mind. Bluegray eyes lingered.

“She’s as plain as this land. A mouse of a woman who probably fears every man who walks into that shamble of a store,” he continued to argue, muttering to his horse. “The odd tingling I got when she brushed against me was probably more like that feeling folks get when they say someone just walked over their grave. More eerie than intimate. So what if she smells all clean and fresh? For all I know she just finished taking her monthly bath.”

Cooper kicked his horse into a gallop. If he didn’t stop talking to himself he would be as crazy as Winnie, buying furniture for a house she would never have. How did she figure to get that old rocker home on the stage?

All afternoon he pushed himself harder than usual as he helped his men move cattle away from the arroyo where flash flooding might happen this time of year. Most of the day he didn’t think of anything but work. By midafternoon, the rain rolled in at full gale as the heavy clouds had promised. Now there was no if to trouble’s calling, but only when.

Just after dark he returned to the house. His only comfort lay in the fact that he wouldn’t have to face his sisters. They were like chickens, getting up and going to bed with the sun.

He climbed down from his horse in the stillness of the dry barn and smiled, knowing Winnie would have left his supper on the stove warming. After being cold all day, he’d end with a hot meal. He hoped he could stay awake long enough to enjoy it.

The feel of a barn always made him relax. When he’d been a boy with older sisters and a mother forever watching him, the barn had been his hideout. He loved the smell of hay and the way rain tinked against the roof. Air always drifted through the cracks in the walls letting him know he wasn’t yet inside and completely safe. The low noises of the animals whispered a welcome. The creaking sounds of the walls made him think the barn itself was an aging giant stretching around him.

The side door thumped against the barn wall. Footsteps, muffled by yards of material, shuffled through the hay toward him.

“Cooper Adams!” Johanna’s sharp voice sliced through his peace. “It is about time you got home.”

He removed his hat, letting a spray of water circle him as he turned. “Evening, Johanna. What’s wrong?” He’d been able to read her moods in the tone of her voice for twenty years. “Surely you weren’t worried about me.”

“Of course not.” Johanna’s features hardened. He’d insulted her by even asking. “You can take care of yourself. It’s Winnie. She has disappeared completely. Doesn’t have the sense God gave a goat, it seems.”

Cooper’s muscles tightened. “What do you mean, disappeared?”

Johanna looked like she was trying to communicate with the cow. “She has simply vanished off the face of this earth. Emma and I have been beside ourselves all afternoon. Lord help us through this trial.”

“Slow down, Johanna.” To his oldest sister everything fell into the category of “trial” or “blessing.” “Just tell me what happened.”

“When last we saw her Winnie was polishing that horrible chair she bought. When we called her an hour later for lunch, she wasn’t there.”

Cooper stormed toward the house. Maybe Emma could tell the facts. Johanna, for once, was making no sense. Winnie wasn’t a child. She wouldn’t just walk off.

“Did she take the wagon?” he said without slowing.

“No,” Johanna shouted over the rain as she matched his stride. “I had your bunkhouse cook, Duly, check. No horse or wagon is missing. If she rode out of here she did so on a pig. Not that she isn’t dumb enough to try it. I swear, the older she gets, the more absentminded she becomes. I only pray I live long enough to take care of her. It is my cross to bear in this life.”

Cooper reached the porch, running across the wood without caring that his spurs might be scarring it.

“Winnie’s missing.” Emma stated the obvious as he stepped inside. “Gone. Disappeared. Lost.” She paced like a toy wound too tightly, as she waved both arms, twin windmills blowing in circles accenting each word. “She’s been acting stranger than usual ever since we got here. Everyone knows she walks for her constitution every day, but never far, never long.”

Cooper tried to calm down his sisters. Johanna saw herself as a martyr and Emma followed suit as second in command. “She couldn’t have just evaporated,” he said. “Has she ever done this before?” The thought occurred to him that he didn’t see them all that often. Maybe this was something she did on a regular basis.

“No,” Emma answered. “She goes in her room sometimes and reads. And she goes for walks, but never long ones. I’ve told her fifteen minutes is all she needs of exercise each day to be regular as a clock. That’s very important at our age.”

Emma paced in front of the fireplace, putting pieces of an invisible puzzle together. “She must have been reading late last night because her eyes were red this morning. I’ve told her a hundred times not to read by lamplight or folks will think the color of her eyes is red and not blue.”

“What was the last thing either of you said to her?” Cooper could guess. They said the same things to Winnie and somehow she managed never to listen.

Emma wrinkled up her forehead. “I said she must have had to search long and hard to find a dress as ugly as the one she bought while she was in town with you. I can hardly believe the Debords bought such a pattern.”

“Did that upset her?” Cooper asked.

Emma shook her head. “I don’t see why it would. Someone had to tell her, after all. Did you see the thing? The lines were out of date and the material looked like it was faded along one side.”

Johanna stepped in front of Emma like a seasoned tagteamer ready to take on the cause. “Did Winnie talk to anyone in town yesterday?”

“You think she’s been kidnapped?” Emma whispered her fear. “Oh, my. She was taken wearing that terrible dress.” Emma’s face paled. “Maybe the Apaches got her. I’ve heard of such things. They come into the house all silent like and snatch the first woman they see. Take her back to their camp and make her one of their wives.”

Cooper studied Emma carefully, trying to decide if she’d been dropped on her head once too often as a child. “First, there are no Apaches in these parts and, second, it would take two or maybe three strong braves to snatch Winnie. Something tells me she wouldn’t go quietly, so we can forget any possibility of her being taken against her will.”

As the women made other guesses, he thought of Woodburn back in town. Winnie had left the store saying she planned to say farewell to the man, but when Cooper brought the chair out, she was already sitting in the wagon. Woodburn was strange, always silent, always keeping to himself, but Cooper could not connect him with this trouble. He wasn’t even sure his sister had spoken to the man.

“The rain’s finally stopped,” Emma announced.

Cooper reached for a dry coat on the rack by the door. “Good, I’ll start searching. I’ll circle the house, then widen the search. Maybe she just went for a walk like you’re always suggesting, Emma, and then decided to hole up somewhere until the rain ended. If so, she’ll be home soon.”

“Where would she hole up? This land is so flat a grasshopper would have trouble finding a dry spot to hide.” Johanna stood so rigid her back might break if a breeze blew by. “Be logical, Cooper; we already have Winnie making no sense, we don’t need you falling prey to a weak mind.”

Cooper had no doubt her anger was directed toward him, for she’d obviously waited for him to come home with the answer and he had disappointed her. The one thing Johanna hated more than trouble was having to deal with it herself.

“Eat before you go.” Emma hurried to the kitchen and brought his meal. “Ten minutes won’t matter. You look dead on your feet. While you eat, Johanna and I will search the house and barn again. Maybe we’ll find a clue. If she’s been kidnapped, surely she won’t be deflowered in the few minutes it takes you to eat a bite.”

“Emma, don’t even think of such a thing,” Johanna snapped. “Talking about her constitution was bad enough and now this.”

“All right, sister. Maybe our Winnie just went for a walk and got caught up in one of those flash floods Cooper is always worrying about. If it could wash away a cow, it could drown Winnie. She is probably floating down toward the Gulf by now.”

Cooper raised an eyebrow. “That’s right, Emma. Look on the bright side.”

He downed a few bites of his meal while the sisters tried to think of other dire fates that might have happened to “poor Winnie,” as she was now referred to.

When he finished, Cooper headed out to saddle a fresh horse. As he walked from the barn a few minutes later, he thought he heard a wagon.

Cooper waited in the shadows. If trouble was riding in, he would just as soon whoever approached not know he was watching.

The noise grew louder, drifting in the damp breeze. Mixed with the jingle of the harnesses was Winnie’s laughter.

Cooper let out a long breath and waited. The buggy pulled into the light shining from the windows. He smiled.

It appeared the Apaches were bringing Winnie back.

Chapter Five

JOHANNA AND EMMA were on the porch when Woodburn pulled his rickety old buggy up to the house. Cooper could make out three people crammed into the shadows of the small carriage. He watched from the drizzling darkness as the Yankee climbed down and helped Winnie to the ground.

There was no mistaking Woodburn, even in the dark. Thin as a willow, favoring his right leg, his head bowed as if apologizing for stepping foot onto a man’s land without permission. Cooper would have to search hard to find a reason to like the man.

“Thank you, Mr. Woodburn,” Winnie said as he held her arm until she reached the solid first step.

The Yankee didn’t seem to hear her as he turned and reached in the boot for a box.

Winnie rushed nervously onto the porch where her sisters stood, openmouthed and staring. “Mr. Woodburn, I’d like you to meet my sisters, Miss Johanna and Miss Emma.”

Johanna recovered first. She folded her hands tightly in front of her and closed her mouth.

The store owner removed his hat and made a slight bow but Winnie gave him no opportunity to speak. “Mr. Woodburn was kind enough to give me a ride home from town. I waited, hoping the rain would stop, but when twilight came, he insisted.”

Emma glared at the strange man, then addressed her youngest sister. “And how did you get to town, Winnie?”

Cooper moved closer. He wasn’t sure he cared for the Yankee bringing his sister home, but he knew he didn’t like the way Emma talked to Winnie, as though she were a child.

“I walked.” Winnie giggled. “And had quite an adventure, I must say.”

Emma planted her fists on her hips. “Everyone knows it’s been cloudy and windy all day. Did I forget to mention that before you decided to go for a walk? You could have caught your death and no one would have even known where you’d gone off to. We were worried sick about you.”

Johanna shifted in front of Emma, ending any planned lecture. She lifted her head and stared level into the stranger’s eyes. “Please, Mr. Woodburn, won’t you come inside?” Her words were far colder than the wet wind. “No matter what the weather, we are grateful you brought our sister home.”

Woodburn hesitated. “It’s late. I’ll just set her box inside and be on my way.” He tried to pass.

“Nonsense,” Johanna stated with a glance behind her at a still angry Emma. “You’ll stay for a cup of coffee, at the very least.” She swept one arm as though opening an invisible door. “Winnie, please get your guest a cup before we send him back out in this damp air.”

Winnie hurried inside. Woodburn had no choice but to trail behind. Southern hospitality would prevail even if it had to be forced on the guest.

Straightening their shoulders, Emma and Johanna followed like silent sergeantsatarms.

Cooper realized no one noticed him standing in the shadows, and Johanna must not have seen the third figure curled into the corner of the buggy. It would not have been like his proper sister to leave someone out of an invitation.

He let his spurs jingle as he neared the buggy. He didn’t want to frighten Mary.

“Miss Woodburn?” he asked from several feet away. “Would you like to join the others?”

When he didn’t go away, or say anything else, Mary finally leaned her head out from behind the tattered leather. “No, Mr. Adams.”

Cooper smiled. At least she answered him. He took another step. “I’m sure the coffee is hot and, knowing my sisters, there are at least two desserts in the pie safe.”

She didn’t answer, so he guessed she must be at least thinking about the offer.

“Please”-he lifted his gloved hand to assist her- “we’d be honored to have you stay for a few minutes. After all, you may have saved Winnie’s life.”

Mary let her hand rest in his as she gathered her skirts and climbed from the folds of the buggy. “Nothing so heroic, Mr. Adams. She looked exhausted after walking to town. I talked her into staying for a late lunch and resting a while. Otherwise she would have been home before the rain started.”

He watched Mary carefully, not knowing if she accepted his invitation because she wanted to be with the others, or because she was afraid of remaining in the dark with him. He could feel her hand tremble even through the leather of his glove.

Cooper paused at the first step. “Do you think you could call me Cooper? Mr. Adams seems too formal.” He wished she’d raise her eyes to meet his. He felt like he was talking to the part in her hair.

“All right.” She didn’t offer to let him call her Mary.

He held the door for her and a moment later the kitchen chair. It seemed to him that she was being very careful not to accidentally touch him. She didn’t look at him as she drank her coffee and ate a slice of Emma’s buttermilk pie. He tried not to stare at her, or to act as if he cared one way or the other about her, but even when he talked to the others, he was aware of her every move.

There was something about Mary Woodburn. Not attraction, he told himself, but something. She was as plain as ever in a black dress with no hint of lace or frills. Her hair was pulled so tightly against her head it could have been painted on. If he shouted, she’d probably jump and run like a deer.

Her brother wasn’t much more of a talker. Except for mentioning, when Emma related their trials by stage, that the stage line had left one of his bags in Sherman, Woodburn didn’t say a word.

Cooper found himself wondering how Winnie and the Woodburns had made it through the ride out. Knowing his sister, their shyness would make her nervous and whenever Winnie was nervous she chattered on and on. He could almost see Woodburn pushing the horses faster and faster as they moved away from town.

Winnie’s explanation about how she had to go to town to get a can of varnish for her rocker didn’t make much sense. If she’d mentioned it to Cooper or Duly, the bunkhouse cook, he would have told her there was a gallon of varnish along with paint in the work shed.

Johanna, as always, was the perfect hostess, inquiring about the Woodburns’ health and offering to pray that this ride in the damp air brought them no harm. Emma, for once, lost her tongue, but Cooper held no faith that it might be a permanent condition.

To Cooper’s surprise, Winnie asked Woodburn to take a look at her chair and offer his advice on restoring it. He dabbed the corner of his mouth with a napkin and stood as if suddenly on an important mission.

Emma and Johanna followed, frowning as Winnie directed Woodburn to her bedroom and the rocker. Just before they reached the door Cooper heard Emma whisper, “Right into her bedroom. Can you believe it? I’ll have to talk to her about this.”

Cooper looked back at Mary, wondering what she thought of his two older sisters. She’d said Winnie was a treasure; who knows, maybe she liked the other two as well. He wanted to tell her they really were not so bad once you got to know them, but he wasn’t sure he believed that himself.

He had to say something. He couldn’t just stare at the poor creature pushing the crust of her pie around on her plate until the others returned. “Would you like more?” he finally managed to get out, thinking that of course she wouldn’t like more, she had not finished half of what she’d been served.

“No, thank you.”

“More coffee?”

“No.”

That was it. There was nothing else to offer and he had no idea of what to say. He thought of volunteering one of his sisters-after all, he had an abundance-but he didn’t know if she would get the joke. He knew nothing about this woman and he wasn’t sure he wanted to. She looked to be in her midtwenties and he had heard she liked to read.

Her hand shook slightly as she raised her cup then clanked it against the saucer when she lowered the china back in place.

“Mary.” He waited for her to look at him.

Slowly, her stormy blue eyes met his. They appeared more blue than gray tonight, but no less frightened than before.

He said the first thing that came to mind. “You don’t have to be afraid of me. I swear I mean you no harm.”

She didn’t have to say a word. He knew she didn’t believe him. He racked his brain trying to think of why she would be so scared. He couldn’t remember speaking directly to her before yesterday. The few times he had been in the store it had always been her brother, not her, who waited on him.

“Is it because I fought for the South?” Maybe something had happened in the war that still haunted her.

Mary shook her head.

“Is it because I’m a man? Are you afraid of men in general?”

Again her head moved with the same answer.

Folding his arms across his chest, Cooper leaned back in the chair trying to understand her. Silence thickened between them. Voices drifted from Winnie’s bedroom, but Cooper couldn’t make out what any of them were saying. So, he guessed they probably couldn’t hear Mary and his conversation either. Assuming they were having one, of course.

Her silence wouldn’t have bothered him if he’d just thought her shy. He’d often found shy folks good company. The air didn’t always have to be charged with words. But Mary wasn’t just timid. There was something else. She was truly frightened.

With a thud, he rocked the chair into place and stood. “I want to show you something,” he said, then wished he had moved slower. “Don’t be alarmed. I’m just going to my desk.”

Moving briskly, he pulled open the bottom drawer and grabbed a book, then forced himself to walk back to her slowly. “During the war I tried to always carry a book in my pack. Sometimes I’d read it ten times before another came in the mail. More than once I traded with someone else doing the same.”

He laid a tattered copy of Great Expectations beside her plate. “I could never trade off this one, though. It saved my life.” He leaned lower, wishing she would look at him. “See the bullet hole. Went clean through the cover, but lucky for me it didn’t make it into my back.”

Mary’s finger traced over the pit mark in the upper corner of the book.

“I never told my sisters about the shot. Didn’t want to worry them.” His hand rested a few inches away from hers, but he made no effort to touch her. Somehow by sharing his secret, he had offered his friendship. Now it was up to her.

“Have you read Dickens’s book?”

“No,” she answered. “But I’d like to.”

He’d found the key, he thought. A bridge over the fear.

“I could loan you this book, but you have to promise to bring it back. It’s kind of my good luck piece. No matter how hard things get around here, I can always pull this book out and remember how close I came to not making it back home.”

She raised her head. A smile touched the corners of her mouth. “Thanks. I’d like to read it. I promise I’ll be careful.”

She didn’t look so plain when she smiled, he thought. She might never be his friend, but at least she wouldn’t cringe the next time she saw him.

Cooper heard his sisters returning. He sat back down in his chair and noticed Mary slip the book into her pocket. The book was obviously something neither of them planned to share with anyone else.

Chapter Six

WINNIE THANKED WOODBURN one last time from the porch. Her round head, topped with an equally round bun, bobbed up and down as she rattled on about the day. The Yankee, on the other hand, stood straight and tall as if at attention. Neither of them seemed to notice the wind whipping around them, but Mary huddled into her shawl and hurried toward the far side of the buggy.

Cooper hesitated a few seconds before offering to help Mary into the carriage. When she placed her hand in his this time, without his gloves, he felt the gentle warmth of her touch.

“Thanks again for your help.” He wished he had the guts to ask her if she sensed the bond that shot between them when she was so close. He felt as though he walked through his life along a gallery of paintings and suddenly he’d discovered one had a heartbeat.

“Thank you.” She brushed her free hand over the book. Her whisper carried on the wind. “For the loan.”

“Maybe when I come to town again, we can talk about it. I’m not usually around folks who spend time reading.” He didn’t want it to sound like he was asking her to step out so he added, “If you have time between customers at the store, of course.”

“All right.” She smiled again, a little broader this time, then disappeared behind the leather of the buggy.

Cooper realized he held her hand too long, but he didn’t want to let go. The warmth in her fingers made him wish he’d tried before now to be her friend. He couldn’t think of anything to add, so he backed away, letting the breeze rob him of even the fragrance of her.

As he walked around Woodburn’s old rig, he noticed his sisters had already stepped inside. Woodburn meticulously checked the lines of the reins. When Cooper passed by, the Yankee whispered, “Stay away from my sister, Adams. You’re not welcome company.”

The insult stung like a slap. “I could say the same thing to you,” Cooper countered.

“I’ve not sought your sister out, sir.” Woodburn’s words were clipped, irritating in their truth.

“Nor I yours.” Cooper wanted to know where the man stood. If he had an enemy, it was best to know it now. “My presence in your store has always been for business. Nothing more.” How could the Yankee think that he might be courting Mary? All Cooper was trying to do was make her not jump with fear whenever she saw him.

Woodburn nodded once. “Then you’re welcome as long as we understand one another.”

“We understand one another.” Cooper turned and stomped up the steps. He didn’t go inside, but watched the moon glisten off the tattered buggy as it disappeared down the ribbon of road toward town. Anger rushed through his veins like a prairie fire in a draught. He wasn’t some hotheaded youth who needed to be warned to stay away from his sister. Cooper had done nothing improper. Mary was in her midtwenties, an old maid by anyone’s standard. Even if he had been courting, she could speak for herself. She didn’t need a brother riding herd over her.

He smiled, realizing he’d been even more absurd than the shop owner suggesting there might be any hint of a flirtation between Woodburn and Winnie. She would be forty her next birthday. Even in her youth, Winnie had never been the kind to draw a man’s eye.

By the time he went back in the house, the sisters had retired to their rooms, like birds nesting for the night. He poured himself the last of the coffee and sat down at his desk. He intended to work, but couldn’t resist opening the bottom drawer. There, hidden away from the world, was his collection of books. Dickens, Poe, Thoreau, and a dozen others.

Not many, he thought, compared to the private libraries in homes back east, but more books than most had this far west. His parents had settled this land with one book, the Bible. They hadn’t thought reading or writing very useful skills but Cooper’s mother taught Johanna, then Johanna taught Emma, then Emma taught Winnie. Then of course, Winnie taught him.

Cooper grinned. His schooling was not only sparse, it had been filtered down to the point he should be surprised to recognize his own name.

He picked up Kingsley’s Westward Ho. A year, maybe longer, had passed since he’d held a book in his hand, but the welcome feeling was still there, inviting him in, engaging him to stay. He told himself there was never enough time to read anymore, but he knew it was more than that. Cooper no longer believed in dreams. Somehow, one has to be able to dream to be lost in a story. And of late, just making it through each day had become his only goal.

Leaning back, with the book in his hand, Cooper looked around his home, really seeing it for the first time since he’d built it. After the war, when he came back to the ranch his father had homesteaded, he could not wait to increase the herd, build this house, and start a family. He had it all planned out, wanting to forget the fighting and the time he lost. He wanted to start living.

But the war wouldn’t stay over. Everywhere, even on the frontier, there were reminders of the open wound that remained after the fighting stopped.

The battles returned when he tried to sleep. Sometimes he woke in the middle of the night and rushed to the washstand, trying desperately to rub away the smell of blood that still lingered on his hands. He would see a part of a uniform, blue or gray, and the bitterness he had lived with for two and a half long years stung his tongue once more. Turning from a boy to a man on the battlefields, he’d managed to survive, but a price was paid with nightmares.

Closing his eyes, Cooper swore he would never tell anyone about the ghosts that haunted him. They’d think him crazy, and he had too much responsibility to let that happen. He’d seen the ones ghosts had claimed in towns across the South, men who never came home in their minds. Men who wandered, still seeing battles, still crying for their lost brothers, still hearing bugles long silent.

Cooper gripped the book with a determined hold, refusing to reach for the bottle he kept in his right drawer. Tonight, he would read. He’d force himself into a story until exhaustion lulled him to sleep.

Somehow, knowing Mary was also reading made it easier. Cooper concentrated on each word, thinking that, if their paths crossed again, he’d give her this book also. If he did, he might need to remember the story so he could talk to her about it. Maybe one day they could visit without fear shimmering in her eyes.

“Follow the bridge,” he mumbled to himself. The books were all he had that linked them. He was afraid to question why he needed this bond with a woman he hardly knew, for if he reflected too closely he might find the whole of him packed with loneliness.

Two hours melted away before he looked up. Laying the book down, he stretched, his muscles relaxing. Tonight he might be able to sleep.

As he stood, he noticed the thin slice of light beneath Winnie’s door. On impulse, he crossed to her room and tapped, fearing she might have gone to sleep with the lamp still burning.

“Yes,” she answered too quickly to have been asleep.

Cooper opened the door. “You all right?”

Winnie put down her sewing. “I’m fine. I was just doing some mending and got carried away.” She lifted her watch pin from the nightstand. “I didn’t realize it was so late. It’s been such a delightful day, I guess I didn’t want it to end.”

Cooper smiled. Only Winnie would lose track of time while mending or think getting caught in the rain was delightful. “Well, good night.” He started to close the door then paused. “Promise me the next time you need to go to town, you’ll let Duly or me hitch up a wagon for you. One of us is usually around.”

“I promise.” She returned to her mending. “By the time I realized what a walk it was, I was already over halfway there. Thank goodness Miles could bring me home.”

“Miles?”

“Mr. Woodburn.” Winnie blushed.

“Yes, thank goodness for Miles.” He closed the door before she saw his frown. He didn’t like his sister calling the Yankee “Miles.” He didn’t like it one bit.

Three days passed with Winnie still talking about Mr. Woodburn, and every word stuck in Cooper’s craw.

No one in town liked the man. Surely Winnie could see that. Oh, they might go in his store from time to time, mainly because he took trade for supplies. Most in the South were money poor, though rich in land and cattle. The cattle drives and settlers traveling through used him because he’d deliver out to their campsite. Debord gladly gave Woodburn that business. It wasn’t practical to lose half a day’s work delivering supplies then try to get back to town before some downonhisluck cowboy robbed him.

But with Winnie, it was Mr. Woodburn this and Mr. Woodburn that, like he only spouted universal truths. She must have repeated his every word at least ten times.

Cooper wondered how the man had had time to say so much in the course of one afternoon.

Johanna and Emma had long since grown bored with her chatter about the Woodburns and the chair she was redoing. They talked over her as if she were little more than a babbling child making noise in the corner.

Cooper couldn’t bring himself to do that. After all, Winnie had been the one who taught him to read and write, and to imagine what might be in the world. She had played games with him when there were no children near his age and made dragons of the clouds in the lazy summer days before he became a man and gave up such things. So now he listened to her, again and again, without commenting.

At night he read, rediscovering how much he loved it, how much he missed it. As the days passed, he decided that the strange feeling he got when Mary touched him was nothing more than loneliness. No woman had been near him for quite a while. No respectable woman anyway. The girls at the saloon were always brushing up against him when he stopped by for a drink, but they were like cats purring and pawing. He’d long ago grown cold to their nearness. But Mary was different.

By the end of the week, the curiosity to see her climbed beyond his good sense of steering clear of her brother. He told himself it would be good for him to at least talk to a respectable girl. His sisters were making plans to invite every lady in the county to a party as soon as he gave in to a date. Maybe Mary would offer him a little practice at conversation.

After all, what harm could it do?

Chapter Seven

MARY LEANED OVER the counter, watching the movements of the Minnow Springs population. Though she knew most of the people, it was more the curiosity of viewing an ant bed, than any particular interest in one person. Or at least it had been until Cooper Adams rode in.

She knew his routine. He’d stop at the post office, tying his horse to the hitching post near the alley. Then he always walked down Main Street to the saloon. On the way, he took care of business, dropping into a few stores before having a drink. She guessed he must not be much of a drinker, for he never stayed long. Most times she would see him leave the saloon and cross over to the hotel for dinner. He always ate alone at the window seat.

She wasn’t keeping up with him specifically, she reminded herself. She was just observing the comings and goings of the town. Why would one rancher deserve any more notice than another?

Yet there was something about the way he stared out into the night from the hotel’s dining room window that made her watch. It was almost as if he were looking for something or someone to materialize out of the darkness. There was a sadness about him that seemed older than his years. She imagined him wondering, as he ate and watched the night, if there were not more to life than the hard lonely life he’d chosen.

Mary had read the book he loaned her and hoped to have time for another reading before she returned it. But liking the book didn’t parallel with liking him. She’d learned her lesson. Men were not always what they seemed.

Miles limped in with a box of apples. He set them down on the counter and asked, “That Adams I saw riding past?”

They both knew it was, so she didn’t bother to answer.

“If he comes in here, I want you to go to the storage room, Mary, and let me wait on him.”

“But-”

“I think I know best,” Miles snapped in an angry tone that had long ago molded itself around his normal voice. “If Adams walks through that door, you’ll go to the back and stay there until he leaves. I don’t need any trouble.”

Mary wanted to argue that Cooper might be different, but fear paralyzed her mind. She had stood up to her brother once and insisted a man had only wanted to talk and she’d been wrong. Now, even the slight jingling of spurs reminded her of how terrified she had been and of how nearly her brother had come to losing his life.

“Cooper Adams is heading this way.” Miles broke into her thoughts. “I’ll call you when he’s gone.”

Mary slipped into the shadows of the storage room as the mercantile door opened.

“Good evening.” Miles’s greeting was cold, formal as always. “How may I help you?”

Mary peered between the slits at the back of the shelving. She noticed Cooper glance around. She knew he looked for her. She wondered if he could feel her near, for she swore even with her eyes closed she would have known he was close by. Something about the man drew her, but she no longer trusted her instinct.

“Winnie sent a list of different size needles she needs. She said you had the best selection in town.” Cooper handed Miles a scrap of paper. “She also asked that I pay her respects to your sister.”

Miles took the sliver of paper and carefully examined it. “Mary is not available, but I’ll pass the message along. It’ll only take me a minute to wrap these for you. I’ll circle them up with a strip of the new ribbon we just got in. Miss Winnie might like that.”

Cooper stood in the middle of the store. He wore his hat low, shading his eyes from view, but Mary had the feeling he searched for something.

She touched the book tucked away in her pocket. Maybe he’d only come in for the novel and the reason he wanted to see her was to get it back. After all, he’d told her it was his good luck charm. The least she could do was walk out into the store and hand it to him. Nothing would happen. Not in broad daylight, in the middle of the store, with her brother right there.

Cooper shifted. She heard the jingle of his spurs and stilled.

“Will there be anything else?” Miles shoved the packet of needles across the counter.

“No, thank you.” Cooper hesitated. “Don’t forget to pass my sister’s regards along.”

“I’ll remember.” Miles folded his arms over his chest. “Good day.”

Mary watched as Cooper walked out of the store.

“Good riddance.” Miles’s comment blended with the door’s closing.

Mary moved from the shadows. “We don’t have any reason to hate the man, Miles. He doesn’t have any grudge against you.”

“You can’t trust these people, Mary. Any of them. They don’t care about us, even if a few of them act like they do. I’ve told you that a thousand times. It will take a generation, maybe more, for the bitterness between North and South to die. Our moving here doesn’t change that.”

Mary nodded. They’d left Virginia with nothing six years ago. Miles’s leg kept him from working most places and the few desk jobs he’d been qualified for had a hundred other veterans apply. Running the mercantile for their uncle seemed the only option. But by the time they got to Texas, their uncle Luther had died, leaving them the dilapidated remains of a once thriving business and no extra money to repair or restock. Slowly, Miles had built the business, hating every minute, trapped and resenting fate’s twist. No one had offered to help him at first and he had not bothered to ask.

Miles’s smile was sad when he added, “How about we close early tonight? I could take the empty apple crates and a load of supplies out to the Kiley place. You could read.” He sounded like he truly wanted to make her feel better. “You know Mrs. Kiley will insist I bring home one of her pies. We could eat it with a late supper when I get back.”

Mary smiled, silently agreeing to the truce. “Sounds like a good plan. I found an old reader in a chest you traded for the other day. I’ll send it out to their youngest boy. Remind them he should be starting his lessons this year. Unless you want me to go along and talk to them?”

Miles shook his head. “With all the empty boxes I’ll be carrying and the bad road, the wagon will rattle all the way. No use in both of us having to listen to that. But I’ll be sure to pass along the advice and the book.”

Mary put away items left on the counter as she talked. “I did promise I’d work with the Andrews children on math for a few hours tonight. Not one of them can add.”

Mr. Andrews owned the livery and had a child every fall like clockwork. He couldn’t pay Mary anything for her lessons, but loaned them a wagon or buggy anytime they were in need. “If I don’t work fast, there will be more kids in that family than any of the Andrews can count.”

Miles pulled down the paper blind over the door’s glass. “I’d rather listen to the rattling of the boxes than those brats. You’re not bringing them all in here, are you?”

“No. I’ve learned my lesson. Half a pound of candy disappeared last time. We’ll work in the loft over the livery tonight.”

Two hours later Mary wished she’d gone with Miles. The Andrews kids might not be able to add, but they could all talk. In fact, none of them seemed to know how to stop. Her head pounded as she crossed the road and headed back to the apartment above the store.

It didn’t matter which side of the street she walked, she had to pass a saloon either way. Mary kept her head down and hurried as fast as she dared along the poorly lit walkway.

She made it past the door of the saloon before she noticed two men sitting in the wicker chairs between the saloon’s windows. Light shone on either side, but they were in shadow.

“Evenin’, miss.” One man stood as she neared. Tall and thin, his mustache hung below his jawline.

“Evenin’, miss,” the other echoed in a slurred voice. “Nice night for a walk.” He tried to stand, but fell over the arm of the chair and almost tumbled off the porch. “Wanta join us?”

Fear contracted Mary’s muscles. Her lungs refused to pull in air, her hands clutched the books she carried as if they somehow could hold her afloat. She heard the jingle of their spurs as the two cowboys moved on either side of her. Their shadows crossed over her, landing invisible blows, stirring terror into her blood.

“How about we walk you home, Miss Woodburn?” The first cowboy took her arm as her name rolled too freely off his tongue. “Whatta you say, Frank? We should walk the Yankee’s sister home?”

She attempted to pull away. The music from the saloon door was so loud no one would hear her if she screamed. “No,” she tried to say without sounding frightened. “I can make it home fine. I’ve only a short way.”

“Yeah.” Frank moved closer, almost falling into her as he tried to take her arm. His breath polluted the air with the smell of bad whiskey. “We’ll walk you home, girl.”

“Nno,” Mary managed to say. “Leave me alone.” She fought to free her arm, but the tall cowboy held tightly. “I have to go. My brother is waiting for me.”

Frank snickered. “No, he ain’t. We seen him driving out of here with a load of apple crates.” He snorted a laugh as if Mary were simply playing a game with him. “Only one place your brother would be taking them: Kiley’s farm. He won’t be back for an hour, maybe more.”

The hold on her arm tightened as the other drunk leaned closer. “We’ll have time to get to know one another real well by then. We heard tell you like getting to know cowboys.”

“No!” Mary dropped the books and tried to free herself. “Leave me alone!”

As panic and fear strangled her, she heard the jingle of a third man’s spurs coming up from behind her in quick, pounding strides.

Suddenly the thin cowboy turned loose her arm as he flew across the porch and hit against the saloon’s wall with the thud of a ripe pumpkin. Frank stumbled away, mumbling that he wanted no part of a fight.

Mary felt his nearness even before the man behind her stepped into the light.

“Miss Woodburn, are you all right?”

He stood so close she could feel the warmth of his words against her cheek. She was so relieved to see Cooper Adams she almost hugged him. He bent and picked up the books she’d dropped. When he stood, he whispered, “Would you allow me to see you safely home?”

Shyly, she took his arm, unsure she trusted him, but knowing she didn’t trust the two men watching them.

He placed his hand over her fingers as they rested on his sleeve. “It’s all right, Mary,” he added as soon as they were far enough away that the two drunks couldn’t hear. “You’re safe now.”

They moved between the shadows of the stores, strolling as if they were no more than a courting couple out for a walk. She couldn’t stop shaking and hated herself for being so weak. This was a country where bravery was highly valued and she must be proving herself the greatest coward in the state.

Cooper slowed to a stop. “Mary, are you really all right?”

“No.” Panic still darted through her veins like tadpoles swimming in warm water. “II’m sorry.” It made no sense. The unpleasantness with the cowboys was over. But she couldn’t relax, her body wouldn’t stop shaking.

At the steps between porches, Cooper faced her. He stood one stair below so that their eyes met. “Mary?” he asked as he opened his arms.

If he’d tried to hold her, if he’d made a move toward her, she would have run. But he didn’t. He just stood there and waited.

Mary closed the space between them. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she let her entire body melt against him. Needing the comfort he offered. Wanting, for once, not to be afraid.

Cooper gently closed her into the circle of his arms. He held her tightly, protectively. “You’re all right now, Mary,” he whispered against her hair. “No one is going to hurt you.”

The shaking stopped; she breathed. For the first time in years she relaxed, feeling shielded from all harm. This man she’d watched for so long, wondering what he thought, had somehow read her mind tonight and offered the one thing she needed, shelter from fear.

Cooper Adams, a man she hardly knew, took no advantage, made no improper move. He held her safe in his solid arms. The warmth of his body pressed into hers like a soothing, healing balm.

For a long while, she rested her head against his chest and listened to his heartbeat. Finally, he lifted her up as if she were no more than a sleeping child and carried her to the mercantile.

When he lowered her at the door, he touched his hat. “Good night, Miss Woodburn,” he said formally as if they hadn’t just held one another a moment before. “Will you be all right until your brother gets home?”

Mary nodded. She thought of asking him in but knew Miles would be furious if he came home and found Cooper Adams inside the store. “Thank you,” she said as she unlocked the door.

“You’re welcome.” He stepped away without another word.

She climbed the stairs to the apartment. Once locked inside, she crossed to the window before she turned on any lights. There, across the street, hidden in shadows, she saw Cooper’s outline leaning against a wall. He watched, waiting to make sure she was safe.

Mary smiled. She had her own private guardian angel.

An hour later when Miles pulled the wagon to the side entrance, she looked out the window again. As Miles climbed down from his wagon, she saw Cooper move away, unnoticed by anyone but her.

“Thank you,” she whispered, wishing he could hear her.

He glanced up at her window as if he caught her words on the wind, then disappeared into the night.

Chapter Eight

COOPER COULDN’T GET Mary Woodburn out of his mind. The woman was a plague worse than yellow fever. For the next few days she managed to creep into his every thought. It was just a matter of time before he talked about her the way Winnie talked about Woodburn, relating every topic of conversation to him. His sister hardly knew the man, yet somehow he’d become her center.

Johanna and Emma convinced Cooper they needed to schedule the shindig before the weather turned cold. By the end of the week they had half his men doing odd jobs for them and running errands as though the cowhands were part of the social committee.

Cooper worked longer hours rounding up cattle for the season’s last drive to market and trying to stay out of his sisters’ way. After a day of branding, he returned just before sundown covered in mud. He brushed and fed his horse, then walked toward the house, musing that it would take more than one tub of bathwater to get him clean.

He’d almost reached the porch when he spotted Miles Woodburn’s delivery wagon pulled up by the front gate. The man sat there as if unsure whether he wanted to come onto Cooper’s land.

Removing his hat, Cooper waved the mercantile owner forward. Maybe Woodburn had had trouble on the road while making a delivery. Maybe he needed help. Not liking the man wouldn’t keep Cooper from being neighborly.

Woodburn pulled the rig forward, but stopped short of the front porch, and well out of sight of anyone inside the house.

Cooper walked up to the side of the wagon, wishing Mary were here with her brother. “Evenin’,” he said without smiling. “Having trouble, or is this a social call?” If Woodburn had stopped by to warn him to stay away from Mary one more time, Cooper might have to knock some sense into the man.

“It’s not a social call. In fact, I’d just as soon your sisters not know I’m here.” Woodburn appeared hesitant, uncertain.

“All right. What’s on your mind?” Cooper wasn’t sure why, but he had a feeling this wasn’t about Mary. He would bet his best cutting horse Mary hadn’t told her brother about the night he’d walked her home. Cooper wondered if she felt him against her the way he swore he still felt her body against his.

Woodburn climbed down from the rickety old wagon and faced Cooper. “I don’t know how to say this other than straight out.” He looked like he swallowed poison with each word. “I think your sister stole my luggage.”

“What?” Of all the things Cooper thought might be on the Yankee’s mind, this wasn’t even on the list. “That’s impossible.” None of his sisters ever stole anything in their lives.

Woodburn seemed embarrassed to say more, which was all that kept Cooper from swinging at him. “The stage line only has one unclaimed bag and it’s mostly filled with sewing notions. They keep saying it’s the bag that I shipped from Sherman. I traveled by horseback from there the same day your sisters arrived by stage. I remember them climbing into the coach at Sherman as the driver tossed my bag up top and said he’d see me in Minnow Springs. All I can figure out is that one of them took my luggage and left her own unclaimed.”

Cooper swore. “Impossible!”

“I thought so too, at first. My case was new, brown. The one at the station is black, but it looks brand new and made about the same as mine. Your sisters were the only ones who could have taken it unless it fell off the stage somewhere along the trail. That still wouldn’t explain the extra unclaimed piece. If one of them took mine, why wouldn’t she claim her own?”

“You’ve got some nerve, Woodburn, accusing one of them of such a thing,” Cooper shouted as he remembered the morning Winnie arrived. She hadn’t remembered the color of her bag, or how to get it open. She’d worn her traveling clothes until he’d taken her to town to shop. “My sisters are not thieves!” He yelled the words as if ordering them to be true.

Woodburn looked as miserable as Cooper felt. “Then why didn’t they return my luggage? Theft is the only reason I can come up with and that doesn’t make much sense since my bag only contained clothes and the journal I’ve kept since the war.”

Cooper wanted to flatten Woodburn. The man had been asking for it for years. The way he talked, reminding everyone he was not a Southerner. The way he looked down on folks in town. The way he wormed his way into every conversation Cooper had with Winnie lately. Anyone would think she’d known him for years, knew his every thought, the way she talked about him.

Grabbing the front of Woodburn’s jacket, Cooper pulled him forward as his right fist connected with Woodburn’s jaw in a powerful pop.

The Yankee made no move to defend himself.

Cooper seized the other side of his jacket and hauled Woodburn to within an inch of his nose. “No man insults my sisters.”

He shoved the Yankee hard against the wagon and delivered a blow to his midsection. Just as his fist connected, Winnie’s scream shattered the air.

“Stop!” She ran toward them. “Stop!”

Cooper backed away, letting Woodburn crumple to the ground like a broken toy. He held his arms open to Winnie, planning to assure her he was all right, the Yankee hadn’t landed a single blow.

But Winnie ran right past him and knelt beside Woodburn. “Miles! Miles! Are you all right?”

Hooking his hand under Winnie’s arm, Cooper tried to pull her to her feet. The shock of seeing her brother fighting must have pushed her over the edge. Woodburn was also trying to push the crazy woman away from him, but Winnie would have none of it. She felt Woodburn’s face and patted on him as though trying to fluff a pillow, while she searched for any breaks or blood.

“Winnie.” Cooper pulled harder, but lifting her was like trying to shovel quicksand. “You don’t know what this is about. Stay out of it.”

“No! You don’t know.” She leaned over the shop owner, wiping her tears off his lapel. “Miles won’t fight you. He swore he would never lift a hand against another man after the war. He’s never told anyone, not even his sister, but he’d let someone beat him to death before he fought again.”

She continued patting on the man. Cooper stepped back, trying to clear his mind. He’d caught his sister’s insanity. She worried over Woodburn and, in Cooper’s opinion, Woodburn wasn’t making near enough protest.

“Winnie? If he’s never told anyone, how do you know?”

The Yankee slowly stood and helped Winnie to her feet. She didn’t even come to his shoulder now so she had to content her smothering to dusting his jacket.

“She knows”-Woodburn stared at Cooper-“because she’s read my journal.” He let the words sink in before adding, “… that was in my bag.”

Cooper looked at Winnie. She didn’t have to say a word; he read the truth on her face. If she’d traveled with the James brothers, they would have never had a career long enough to fill a column, much less a dime novel.

Johanna’s voice snapped orders from somewhere behind them. “Come inside, all of you. What would the neighbors think if we lived close enough for them to hear you? We will sort this problem out over coffee. I’m sure it is just a misunderstanding.”

To his oldest sister, the War Between the States had been “just a misunderstanding.” Why should Cooper be surprised Johanna viewed Winnie’s theft and his beating an innocent man any differently?

They all sat down at the table while Winnie went to get the luggage she’d lifted the day she arrived. Cooper knew he was going to have to apologize to a man he didn’t like. That fact bothered him more than the sudden revelation that his sister had sticky fingers.

Emma poured everyone a cup of coffee, but no one drank. “I knew something was amiss,” she said to anyone at the table who would listen. “I just knew it. I have a feeling for these things, you know, always have.”

Cooper felt like counting “one,” for he knew Emma’s statement would be repeated at least a hundred times.

Johanna excused herself, saying someone must attend to dinner. On her way to the kitchen, she paused to invite Mr. Woodburn to join them as if he were here on a social call and hadn’t been being slugged by her brother only moments before.

When Woodburn declined, she smiled and said, “Maybe another time,” before disappearing into the kitchen.

Johanna might be a ball of fire when fighting for the date of a party, but trouble was like dust to her way of thinking. It should be swept under the rug and never spoken about.

Winnie brought in the brown bag she’d carried home the day she arrived in Minnow Springs and handed it to Miles. “I mended all your clothes. Most were in need of a stitch or two.”

Miles lifted a shirt from the bag. Winnie’s fine stitches could barely be seen. “I’ve been wearing this shirt with the collar torn loose for some time.” He nodded a silent thankyou to Winnie. “I should have replaced it, but the rip didn’t show if I kept my jacket on. I try not to ask my sister to take care of me and my sewing skills are nonexistent.”

He pulled his dress coat from the bag and ran his hand along all the buttons. “I thank you for this. It was no small task.”

Winnie smiled. “I guessed that no one sewed for you. And the buttons were no problem; Cooper had ones on his dress coat he never uses.” She glanced at Cooper daring him to argue. “I replaced all of your efforts so the stitches should hold as long as the material does. It took a few nights more time than I imagined it would, I’m afraid. I meant to get your things back to you as soon as possible.”

She brushed her hand over the material as though it somehow partly belonged to her now. “I didn’t mind the work, though. It was kind of like I had someone to do things for, if only for a while. I’ve never had that.” She blinked away a tear bubbling in her eye.

“Why didn’t you tell us, Winnie? How could you have simply kept his things?” Emma circled the table, a onewoman war party. “Sewing a gentleman’s clothes as if he were your man and not some stranger. It beats all I’ve ever heard of.”

Embarrassment warmed Winnie’s round cheeks. “I’m sorry.” She lowered her head. “I didn’t mean any harm. I only wanted to pretend for a while.”

Cooper felt so sorry for Winnie he wanted to hit Woodburn again. The Yankee didn’t much look like he would mind. He must have hated like hell to ride all the way out here and accuse Winnie of stealing.

“How’s your jaw?” Cooper wanted to say he was sorry, but the words clogged his throat.

Woodburn rubbed the side of his face and met Cooper’s stare. “It’ll be sore for a few days, but I’ll live.”

Apology issued. Apology accepted.

“Did you read his journal too?” Emma rounded the table again. “Winnie, you read a man’s private thoughts? How could you? It’s a crime, nothing but a crime. Why, you never even got so much as a letter from a man, and now you read a whole journal. It’s a wonder someone doesn’t lock you away for doing such a thing.”

Winnie took a step backward, offering no defense.

Woodburn stood so fast coffee splashed from every cup on the table. “Mr. Adams,” he said in almost a shout, “as the only male in this family, I feel it is only proper to address you about a matter.”

No one breathed as Cooper stood. He wasn’t sure what he would do if Woodburn suggested filing charges against Winnie. She’d already admitted her guilt, but Emma was the only person alive who’d think of locking Winnie up for mending someone’s clothing.

Cooper closed his eyes and waited. Right or wrong, she was his sister and he’d fight any battle the Yankee lined out if he had to for her. “What do you suggest, Mr. Woodburn?”

“I suggest, Miss Winnie agreeing, of course, that you give me permission to call on your sister. My intentions are honorable, I assure you.”

Winnie giggled in surprise.

Emma hit the floor in a dead faint.

Chapter Nine

COOPER FROWNED EVERY time he thought about the Yankee courting his sister, but he couldn’t help smiling when he remembered the way Emma reacted to the news.

Woodburn and Mary came to dinner the following Sunday. Everyone silently agreed to allow Winnie and her caller the privacy of the porch for courting after the meal. Cooper still didn’t like the man, but he did enjoy talking about books with Mary after the dishes had been cleared.

By the third Sunday their visits became a pattern that Cooper looked forward to. Mary’s shy questions and comments on what she had read the week before made Cooper think. Johanna and Emma were always in the room, but lost interest quickly in any discussions. Mary, on the other hand, had a good mind. Her intelligence kept him reading late most nights. She might be plain, from her simple hairstyle to her drab clothes, but there was nothing ordinary about her logic.

Cooper wished he could talk to her of other things, but knew the time was not right. He learned that she tutored several children in town. Every week, when she talked about her students and their lessons, he heard excitement in her voice. Her kind way made her a natural teacher.

When the conversation turned to the party his sisters were planning, Mary showed no interest. Finally, one Sunday when they walked out alone to view his newest colt, he asked if she planned to attend the dance. He wasn’t surprised when she mumbled an excuse while giving most of her attention to the colt.

Cooper accidentally brushed her hand as he reached to pat the colt’s head. To cover up the awkward moment, he said, “I call this one Future because I bred her special from a descendent of the famous Steeldust. The way I see it, she’s the future of this ranch.”

Mary asked a few questions about the horse, but she kept glancing back at the house as if wanting to return to the others. Or maybe, Cooper thought, not wanting to be alone with him.

Since the party was the topic of choice for his sisters, Mary usually remained silent around them, fading into the background, almost as invisible to them as she used to be to him.

Fear slowly ebbed from her eyes as the Sunday visits continued. Yet late one Monday afternoon when Cooper walked into the mercantile she glanced up and he saw terror flicker once more.

He didn’t bother pretending not to notice. “What is it, Mary?” he asked, not caring that her brother might be within hearing distance. He felt they had become friends and guessed she enjoyed visiting with him as much as he did with her. It troubled him that he could still frighten her so easily.

Mary stared down at the ledger she’d been working on. “Nothing.”

Removing his hat, Cooper leaned against the counter. “Yes, there is. I see it. What frightened you so when I walked in just now?”

She remained perfectly still as if waiting for him to disappear. When he didn’t, she answered, “Your spurs. Or rather the sound they make. I heard them before I made out who you were.”

Cooper bent over and pulled the silver and leather straps from his boots. He laid them on the counter. “Anything else?” He grinned. There were a hundred questions, but they’d wait. “Or should I just continue stripping?”

She smiled, the tension forgotten. “No, only the spurs.”

Raising an eyebrow, Cooper waited.

“I won’t tell you why.” She lifted her chin an inch.

“I won’t ask.”

“Good.” She let out a longheld breath. “How can I help you, Mr. Adams? My brother is not here.” She rushed to add, “Though I expect him back at any moment.”

“I could wait if you like.”

“Oh, no. I’m sure I can fill your order. Then I have to lock up. It’s almost time to close.”

Cooper couldn’t remember what he’d been planning to buy when he walked into the store five minutes before. It was some item he’d decided he needed on the way in to pick up the mail.

“Have dinner with me, Mary.” The words were out before he realized he’d said his thoughts. Hurriedly, he added, “I want to discuss the book you loaned me a few weeks ago.” His reasoning made no sense, he saw her yesterday, but she was kind enough not to notice.

When she met his gaze, they both knew the talk would not be of books tonight. Every time he saw her there were things both almost said. For just an hour he wanted to visit with her, just her. Not of books or his sisters and her brother, or the town.

“We’ll walk down Main and eat by the window at the hotel, then I’ll walk you right back here. You’ll be safe, and your brother only has to look around to know where you are. I promise to have you back at your door by sundown.”

To Cooper’s surprise, Mary turned without answering and lifted her shawl from a peg.

He offered his arm. Of all the things he’d thought of telling her, the topics he had wanted to discuss, the questions he wondered about her life, Cooper did not say a word as they walked down the street.

After ordering two of the café’s specials and coffee, they sat by the window as he’d promised, eating their meal in silence. He guessed they should be talking, but all he could think about was how good she smelled and how he enjoyed the comfort of her near. She was so different from any woman he’d ever met. She was the first female he’d ever thought of as a friend.

The sun’s dying glow lit the street as they strolled back toward the store. Cooper decided that somewhere over the past six years of living alone he must have lost all ability to communicate. Unless he counted “Pass the gravy” or “Would you like some pie?” he hadn’t thought of a thing to say to her. At this rate he would stand around all day at his sisters’ big party and just stare at the eligible women from all over the county. He pictured them walking past him, gawking at him or, worse, pitying him as a fool. Picking a bride wasn’t like bobbing for apples. At some point he would have to talk to the woman he planned to marry. What chance would he have if he could not even think of something to say to Mary?

“I’ve never been much of a talker,” he said aloud.

“I guessed that.” She tried to hide a smile.

He rested his hand over her fingers on his arm. “You don’t mind the silence?”

As always, she was kind. “I don’t mind.”

“Then, we should be great friends?” He liked the idea. Friends didn’t make him exactly a ladies’ man, but at least it was a start.

“We are friends.” She lifted the hem of her skirt as they stepped onto the porch in front of the mercantile. “Thank you for dinner.”

“You’re welcome.” Cooper watched her unlock the store. “If you ever need me, Mary, you’ll let me know.” When she glanced back at him, he added, “That’s what friends do. They watch out for one another.”

“I promise. And you’ll do the same?”

“Cross my heart.” Cooper tipped his hat and walked away.

Mary stepped inside, humming softly. He’d done it again, she thought. He’d made her feel like she had her own private guardian angel. Someone watching over her. Someone caring.

She started into the dark corners of the cluttered store. Unwanted memories crept out to greet her, reminding her of another time. Even the glow of the sun had disappeared that night. The store had been quite like it was now. She came down from the apartment above to retrieve a book she’d forgotten and noticed the door standing open. Dirt blew in from the street, thickening the air. Before she could reach the lock, she heard the jingle of spurs and a moment later she was fighting for her life.

The attacker swore she asked for it as he pulled at her clothes. She had talked to a stranger that afternoon, even flirted a little. The cowhand had laughed as she screamed, accusing her of playing with him before he smothered her mouth with his and ended her cries.

Now, the fear from that night choked Mary.

She couldn’t remember how many times she had broken free and screamed. Once, twice. Miles hurried down the stairs to help. But at the bottom step, he hesitated. He froze, without reacting, allowing the stranger’s two friends to attack.

Mary glanced over at the counter, pushing the memories aside. Trying not to remember the way they had beat him without Miles ever landing a blow. He’d just stood there, like a man made of straw, while they’d took turns hitting him. If someone hadn’t walked by the open door and shouted for help, Miles might have died and she didn’t even want to think what might have happened to her.

Trying to remember to breathe, she fought the memory, forcing herself to look around the room, to see that there was no one in the shadows waiting.

Cooper’s spurs reflected in the dying light, pulling her back to the present. He had taken them off and placed them on the counter without thinking her silly or asking questions. He’d done it simply because she had asked.

On impulse, she grabbed the spurs and ran out the door. She was halfway to the post office before she realized she wasn’t running away from her fears this time, but to something. To him.

Cooper stood next to his horse, checking the saddle’s straps. He decided he might ride into town again in a week or so and see if she’d go to dinner with him a second time. The food at the hotel wasn’t nearly as fine as his sisters cooked but his ears sure enjoyed the rest.

The tapping sound of someone running across the boardwalk registered a moment before he glanced up. Mary ran off the end of the walk. Cooper raised his arms just in time to catch her in flight.

She held tightly as he swung her down beside him. He pulled her close, breathing in her nearness with deep hungry breaths.

The shadows of buildings hid them from prying eyes, but he wouldn’t have cared if the entire town saw them. Cooper held her inside the circle of his arms, feeling her heart beat against his own, surprised at how glad he was to see her once more even though it had only been minutes since he had left her at her doorstep.

Slowly, she relaxed, but she didn’t pull away.

“Are you all right?” he whispered into her hair, fearing that someone might have bothered her again.

“Yes.” Her answer was muffled by a nervous laugh against his throat. “I just brought you the spurs you left. I was afraid…” She held tighter. “I was afraid I’d missed you.”

Sliding his hand along her arm, he took them from her fingers. “It’s all right,” he said as he looped the spurs over the saddle horn. “I would have returned.”

Stepping a few inches away, she remained close. “Would you do me a favor as a friend?”

“Of course.” He patted her shoulder, liking that they were now good enough friends to touch. “Name it. I’m at your service.”

“Would you mind terribly kissing me good night?”

Cooper didn’t answer. He couldn’t answer. How could he tell her that he wasn’t sure he felt about her that way? She was his friend. He admired her intelligence. He enjoyed her company. He looked forward to seeing her. He even liked the way she smelled, but he didn’t feel about her the way a man should about a woman he kissed.

He leaned forward and lightly brushed her cheek with his lips.

Mary vanished into the darkness as quickly as she’d appeared. Like a rush of wind, she was gone, leaving only the slight sound of an escaped sob behind.

It took Cooper a moment to realize what he’d done. Dear God, he hadn’t meant to hurt her. She’d been asking for something else, something more.

He ran toward the store, but as he neared he saw Miles Woodburn unloading a wagon, limping back and forth. It was too late to talk to Mary. Too late to say he was sorry.

Chapter Ten

ANY HOPE COOPER had of finding time to apologize to Mary evaporated in the frantic days that followed. He’d agreed that the final cattle drive before winter would start from the natural corral on his land called Echo Canyon. As each rancher brought in his small herd, Cooper had to be there to help. For many of his neighbors the success of this drive would mean surviving the winter without having to go to Dallas to find work.

His sisters planned the country ball for the night before all the men had to leave so there would be enough dance partners for every single woman. The big day arrived on Saturday amid cloudy skies and high spirits. Ranchers and their families started pulling onto Cooper’s land by midmorning.

Though the Adams ranch was throwing the shindig, custom required no one come to call emptyhanded. Cakes, pies, and cobblers were added to the sisters’ desserts. Jellies, jams, and fresh breads were piled atop Cooper’s desk. The Williamses brought cider they had shipped from Tennessee. The undertaker proudly displayed three bottles of peach wine he had bought in the hill country when he’d gone after hardware. And of course, the Kileys lugged in apples for everyone.

Unmarried daughters were presented, first to Cooper’s sisters, then to him. Thanks to an abundance of cowhands, Cooper had no difficulty introducing each woman to eligible men more than happy to monopolize her time.

Cooper spent his time hanging around the pit built to roast half a beef. The heat and smoke kept the women away. He was in no mood to be sociable. The fact that he’d hurt Mary’s feelings bothered him and the more time that passed, the more awkward he felt about saying something to her.

Lunch consisted of sandwiches sliced from the first brisket to be declared cooked and desserts. As the afternoon wore on, several of the families spread blankets out in the loft and on the porches. Some were for visiting, some for sleeping children. The slight nip in the air made cuddling comfortable as couples paired off to get better acquainted. As far as Cooper could see, no unmarried girl wandered around looking for him with an expression that said she might just die unless she became Mrs. Cooper Adams. In fact, they all seemed pleased with their choices, smiling up at some stammering cowhand with true love in his eyes. It had never occurred to Cooper until today that the ladies might consider him too old, or too hardened for marrying. He’d been thinking he wanted the pick of the litter. Now the question seemed to be, Did the pick want him?

Several men stood around the cook fire, talking of weather and the threat of rustlers; women bordered a quilt frame. Cooper had no idea what they talked about. For a man with three sisters he should know more about women. Mary taught him different. He thought they were friends. But before he could get at ease with the agreement, she ran into his arms and asked him to kiss her.

He managed to figure one thing out in almost thirty years. Women were nothing but trouble. He liked the idea of being friends with her, but he had no right to be thinking about how good Mary felt next to him.

She had asked him a simple favor. “As a friend” she’d said, and without a word he had let her down. His peck of the cheek must have made her feel ugly and unwanted. No woman wanted to feel that way. He’d done what he thought a friend would want him to do and somehow it had all gone wrong.

“That’s women for you,” he swore under his breath. “Should’ve kept my distance.”

Cooper glanced up and noticed his sister Winnie standing on the porch. He smiled to himself. She’d never had a gentleman caller. Now she ran around singing and blushing like a young girl. He wasn’t sure if Woodburn asked to court her because he liked Winnie, or because the man simply didn’t like the way everyone treated her. When Cooper checked on them one Sunday, Winnie had been talking away and Miles sat all straight and stiff as if waiting on his turn to get out of purgatory.

If Woodburn was just being nice, allowing Winnie her fellow for a while, Cooper still couldn’t say he liked the man, but had to admit the Yankee irritated him less.

Cooper turned the slowly cooking beef and stared out at the boiling sky to the north. The color reminded him of Mary’s eyes. Stormy weather blue. For all he knew, he was the first man she’d ever asked to kiss her. Maybe she figured no man would try. She asked a friend to let her know what it was like.

Cooper knew that even if he explained she wasn’t homely, she wouldn’t believe him. How could he say the words and be honest with both her and himself? She might never be a great beauty, but she was easy to look at. He should have told her that. She had pretty eyes, the kind a man could get lost in. And her voice was soft, like her words were meant only for him to hear. He should have said something. Maybe that would have helped.

By midafternoon, every man, woman, and child in the county tromped around his ranch, except Mary and her brother. Cooper told himself he didn’t care, but every time he looked up, he saw Winnie watching the road. The Yankee and his sister might not want to come to the party, but they had no right to hurt Winnie.

The more Cooper thought about it, the madder he got. As shadows melted together and the threepiece band warmed up in the barn, rain blew in like an unwanted guest.

Cooper rushed with everyone else to move things inside. Every time he passed Winnie, he saw her worried expression and her gaze turned to the road. Finally, he grabbed a slicker, saddled a horse, and rode out toward town. If Woodburn wasn’t bothering to show up, he would have some explaining to do.

Almost within sight of Minnow Springs, Cooper spotted the old borrowed buggy of Woodburn’s leaning almost sideways, a back wheel propped against it. Miles stood alone in the muddy road, his jacket off, his sleeves rolled to the elbows.

Anger turned to worry inside Cooper. As he neared, he yelled, “Having trouble?”

Miles shoved his thinning hair off his face. “This time, I am.”

As Cooper swung down from the saddle, Woodburn added, “I finally got the wheel patched enough so it should hold, but I can’t lift the frame and roll it into place. Would you mind giving me a hand?” He chewed on the words a minute before he added, “You see, there’s a party I promised to attend.”

Cooper moved to the boot of the old buggy. Bracing his feet in four inches of mud, he lifted.

Miles maneuvered the wheel around the axis. “Thanks,” he shouted over the rain as he stood.

“Where’s Mary?” Cooper tried to make his question sound casual while he watched Miles roll muddy sleeves down over even dirtier arms.

“She walked back to town. With everyone already gone to your place, she decided she could get a wagon and be back faster than I could fix this wheel.” Frustration deepened the lines on his scarred face. “With this leg, it’s hard for me to walk on flat ground, much less in the mud. I talked her into coming along and now it looks like we may miss the party.”

Cooper swung onto his saddle, realizing riding a horse must be impossible for Woodburn or he would have ridden bareback to the ranch and left the wagon by the road. “Go ahead. Winnie’s worried about you. I’ll head toward town until I find your sister, then I’ll make sure she gets to the ranch safely.”

Woodburn grumbled at the suggestion, but climbed inside the buggy.

Cooper lowered his hat and rode straight into the wind. He hoped Mary had made it to town before rain drenched her.

A deserted Main Street, dressed in thick gray fog, greeted him. Rain hung in the air, soaking him despite the oiled slicker. Cooper tried the Woodburns’ store first, then realized Mary was probably at the livery.

There would be a slim selection of wagons left if the old buggy had been their best choice before. And she’d have to rig it herself, for the Andrews clan had been among the first to show up at the ball. By midafternoon Cooper had no doubt the children were instructed to eat their weight in food.

When he stepped into the livery, the sound of someone crying drifted around him seeming to come from no particular direction. For a moment, he thought it might be one of the Andrews kids who had been accidentally left behind.

He moved closer, hearing the jingle of his muddy spurs blend with the sobbing. Pausing, Cooper let his eyes adjust to the dim light.

Finally he spotted Mary, curled into a ball, arms hugging her knees, head down, hair wild around her shoulders. She was sitting in the back of a wagon that would have taken both a carpenter and a blacksmith a week to get in even fair shape to travel.

Cooper waited, knowing that if he took one step toward her the spurs would frighten her. “Evening, Miss Woodburn,” he said slowly. “Nice day for a ride.”

Mary’s head shot up. Bright bluegray eyes sparkled on a muddy face. When she spotted him in the doorway, she quickly shoved a tear, along with caked dirt, across her cheek.

Cooper couldn’t help but laugh. “You look like a mud doll.”

Mary grinned back. “You don’t look much better.”

He smoothed a layer of muck off his duster. “And I got all dressed up for the country ball.”

“Me too. Miles said I had to go for Winnie’s sake, but my efforts to dress were wasted. I fell twice running toward town, trying to beat the rain. I’d hoped to find a rig that might make it out of the barn, but I’ve failed. Miles is stuck out on the road, unable-”

“He’s on his way to my ranch,” Cooper interrupted. “I’m supposed to bring you along.”

“I’m not going.” She stared down at her clothes. “It’s impossible.”

“Then the party will come to you.” Cooper took a step forward. “I don’t care if I return or not. The whole thing is a hoax. After everyone stuffs themselves a few more times and dances a couple of rounds, they’ll probably raffle me off to the highest bidder.”

“Oh. You think you’ll go for a good price?”

“Of course. If you don’t count the undertaker, who owns his own business, I’m the most eligible bachelor in this part of the state.” He laughed at his own lie. “I’m sure I’ll go to the girl whose father can send the most acres along with his daughter’s hand.”

Helping Mary out of the wagon, he added, “You look mighty pretty, Miss Woodburn.” To his surprise, he meant it. “Would you like to dance before I’m hogtied and carted off to the altar?”

“I hate to turn a man down whose freedom is now counted in hours.”

He pulled her into his arms before she could say more, holding her far closer than he would have dared to in public. With her feet barely touching the ground, they twirled around the haycovered floor as though they were at a grand ball.

When he slowed the dance, he realized she was soaked and shivering. In one swing, he lifted her into his arms and carried her toward the door. “Do you trust me, Mary?”

“I think I finally do.”

“Then, let’s get you into some dry clothes and try dancing again on my barn floor with music playing. We’ll both catch pneumonia if we stay in this drafty place much longer.”

Before she questioned, he ran into the rain toward her store. By the time she unlocked the door they were both newly soaked.

Laughing for no reason other than it felt good, he followed her upstairs. Cooper hesitated only a moment when he reached the threshold.

She crossed into the darkness and returned a moment later to hand him a dry towel. “Come in by the fire. I’ll change.” She hurried across the room and disappeared behind a door.

Cooper stood in the center of the small apartment and scrubbed the water from his face. Then he stirred up the fire and looked around the room. Hundreds of books lined the walls and art, fine art, blanketed every inch of space left. He knew, without having to ask, that these were the few, final treasures of what once must have been a grand home. He’d always thought of Southerners coming home to only the crumbs left of their former lives. He never thought of Northerners losing everything in the war.

Slowly, he realized what a joke it must have been for him to loan her books. She probably grew up with a real library in her house.

He pulled off his duster and damp coat, hanging them over chairs to dry. Unlike the store, the apartment above was neat, orderly, with a once valuable rug adding a warmth that made the small place a home.

He saw what must be Miles’s room across from Mary’s closed door. Maps and charts covered the walls of his chamber. A cot was crammed into one corner, making room for a huge desk weighted with books and papers.

“Your brother studying something?” he yelled toward the closed door.

Mary’s muffled answer returned, “He wants to write a book about the battles in the war. He’s already written several articles that sold back east.”

“And spent all the money on more books,” Cooper guessed.

“I’m afraid so.” Mary could barely be heard. “But it will all be worth it once he’s published.”

Cooper couldn’t bring himself to invade Woodburn’s private space. He never would have guessed the cold man would have such a secret.

Mary’s door opened, shining more light into the room. Cooper turned and watched her move about.

“I’ll put on some tea.” Nervousness shook her words. “We can drink it while my hair dries.” She crossed into the tiny square of a kitchen and poured water into a pot.

He couldn’t take his eyes off of her. Against her robe, he could see the outline of her body and the grace in each movement. She didn’t belong in faded dresses.

After she handed him a cup of tea, she pulled a stool close to the fire and began brushing her hair dry in the warm air.

Cooper had seen his sisters do the same thing a thousand times, but as Mary dried her long chestnut mane, he couldn’t stop staring.

“I’ll only take a few minutes,” she apologized when she looked up.

“Take a lifetime,” he whispered. “It’s beautiful to watch.”

Mary laughed. “If we’re to be friends, Mr. Adams, you can’t tease me. I’m fully aware that I’m plain. Miles says when we save enough money we can go back east and I’ll become a schoolmarm. He says I have the look of one already.”

“You could teach school here,” he said more to himself than her as he moved to the chair behind her stool.

She went back to pulling the brush through her hair.

“Mary, why’d you ask me to kiss you the other night?” he inquired after several minutes of silence.

“I don’t know.” She didn’t look at him. “Maybe I just wanted to know how it felt.”

“My kiss or any kiss?”

“Yours.” She stared into the embers. “I was kissed once and didn’t like it. I thought that if you kissed me then I wouldn’t think of it as being something ugly.”

She rose to her feet. “The rain sounds like it may have stopped. I should change.”

He stood, blocking her path. “Do you think I could try again? On the kiss, I mean.”

She stared at him with her wonderful, expressive eyes. He saw a question, but no fear. They’d finally gotten beyond her fright.

“No.” She shook her head, letting her curls tumble around her shoulders. “It is kind of you to ask, but…”

“I’m not being kind.” He swept a strand away from her cheek. “I’m being honest. There is nothing I’d like more than to kiss you right now.”

He leaned down and brushed his lips against her cheek as he had almost a week ago. When she didn’t retreat, he cupped her chin with his fingers.

His mouth swept over hers, forever erasing the bruising kiss she’d once endured. Mary had read about such a kiss. She’d dreamed about it, but she never thought anyone would kiss her so. She closed her eyes, trying to remember every detail.

“More?” he whispered across her lips.

“More,” she answered and rested her hand on his shoulder to steady herself.

This time, he leaned closer, his warm lips caressing her throat before he ventured to her mouth. She couldn’t hold back the sigh that escaped as he found her lips once more. Never, not for one minute in her life, had she ever felt beautiful, but she felt so now.

A sensation of being cherished washed over her, filling the very depth of her soul. Her lifetime would now be measured in the before and after of this one moment. She’d never be the same. In the twilight hours she would think of this and at dawn, just before she awoke, she’d remember the way Cooper Adams tasted on her lips.

“More.” She repeated her request when he moved once again to her throat. “More, please.”

His words tickled her ear. “You only have to ask once, Mary.”

His arm curled around her back, pulling her close. He tried to keep it light, as he guessed a woman would want her first kiss to be. But when she came so willingly to him and he felt the length of her pressing against him, he deepened the kiss.

Heaven had stepped into his arms. The warmth of her, the fresh, rainwater smell of her surrounded him. How could he not have known she had been so near for years?

Her body fit against him perfectly. She was gentle, soft spoken, intelligent. In her arms his worries faded. The taste of her left him longing for more. The beauty in her could not be measured in just a pretty face. She had a beauty that settled against his heart.

As her arms circled his neck and her fingers crossed into his hair, he lifted her off the floor and opened her mouth with his tongue. He knew he was bold. She was a woman who needed to be treated tenderly. But he was starving for the taste of her.

She jerked in surprise.

He moved his hand along her back, calming any fears as he brought passion to her simple request for a kiss. If she had pulled away, he would have stopped, no matter how much he’d have hated to. But even in her shock, she clung to him.

One step at a time, he taught her. Kissing her deeply. Lovingly moving his fingers over her body. Letting her know the magic that happens when the senses overload with pleasure.

Her heart beat wildly against his and he knew she wanted his touch as dearly as he needed to feel her near. Her hand fumbled with the sash of her robe a moment before the heavy wool parted and her body, clad only in undergarments, pressed against him once more.

She gulped for breath as she leaned her head back. His kisses explored her throat. His mouth covered where her pulse pounded as his hand moved up to brush over her breast.

So great a pleasure exploded in her senses, she would have fallen had he not held her. His tongue journeyed along her throat until his kisses reached the bottom of her ear, making her forget to breathe. His thumb slid across the tip of her breast, caressing her until she ached for more. The taste of him was paradise. The smell that was only him filled the air around her. They were suddenly floating in a river without shores, without boundaries, and her only thought was that she wanted more.

She craved all there was of this lovemaking she’d known nothing of before today. Before Cooper.

Pushing him an inch away Mary tried to remember how to speak. She had to tell him of the wonder he’d helped her discover. He had to know what a gift he’d given her with his touch.

But before she could say anything, he whispered, “Dear God, Mary…I’m sorry.”

Chapter Eleven

COOPER STEPPED OUT into the night air while he waited for Mary to finish dressing. He wished the rain still pounded. Hell, he thought, he wished lightning would strike him right now. Maybe if he got a strong enough jolt he would be knocked senseless and feel better.

Nothing could make him feel worse.

“I’m ready,” Mary whispered from behind him as she stepped out, then turned to lock the store door.

He glanced around. Back in her plain dress, with her hair pulled tightly in a knot, little remained of the passionate woman who’d been in his arms minutes before. He couldn’t tell if she had been crying-she refused to look up at him. He wouldn’t blame her. If she had not pushed away from him when she did he might have made love to her. He had never been so out of control, so mindless, in his life.

Cooper pulled his horse close to the porch and waited. He didn’t want to even guess what she thought of him right now. She probably wondered what kind of friend offers a kiss and then starts undressing her.

“Can you help me up?” she asked in little more than a whisper.

Awkwardly, Cooper placed his hands around her waist and lifted her onto the saddle. He tried not to think about how she had felt earlier, but he wasn’t sure he would ever forget the fullness of her breast in his hand with only a layer of cotton between them. She hadn’t said a word since he apologized and from the way she stiffened when he touched her, Mary was doing her best to forget he still breathed on the same planet.

He thought of walking home and letting her ride alone, but that would only serve to make him a bigger fool. In this mud it would take him an hour or more and they would probably get rained on again.

Attempting not to touch her, he slipped his boot in the stirrup and swung up behind her. When his body wrapped around her, she stiffened once more.

“Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.” The lie frosted the night air. “I’d just like to get to the party. My brother will be worried about me.”

Cooper gripped the reins in front of her, trying not to notice that his arm rested just above her waist. Her nearness would probably drive him mad before they traveled a mile. He kicked his horse into action. For a moment, they bumped together, both making every effort not to touch the other.

Finally, he wrapped his free arm around her and pulled her against his chest.

She made no protest as he held her securely in his embrace. He wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d fought him. By now, everything about the woman he held was a surprise to him.

Their bodies moved in unison, but they were halfway to his ranch before she relaxed and rested her head against his shoulder. His hold on her remained constant, secure.

When they were within sight of the ranch, Cooper slowed.

He couldn’t go back to the party without clearing the air between them. He didn’t want her hating him. “Mary, there is something we’ve got to get straight. I didn’t mean for what happened between us to happen. You’ve got to believe I never meant to hurt you.”

She twisted within his arms until her words whispered against his ear. “What happened between us, happened between us, not to me; and you didn’t hurt me until you said you were sorry.”

They were so close to the house he was afraid someone might hear him so he didn’t answer her.

As he lifted her down from the saddle she added, “But don’t worry, it will never happen between us again. So you can stop apologizing. In fact it might be better if we simply never spoke to one another again.” She shoved a tear off her cheek with an angry movement.

Mary vanished into the house before he had time to think of an answer. Women. He was right about them. Mary might not be as chatty as most, but she made up for it by being helpless and confusing. This time she had not even bothered to say thank you for his riding into town to get her. And he had no idea what she was talking about when she said “between” and not “to.”

He walked toward the barn thinking all the people enjoying the party had better eat up because there wasn’t going to be another bridefinding ball. He never planned to marry.

Chapter Twelve

THE ORANGE GLOW of twilight was the unofficial time for the dance to start, but Cooper’s sisters insisted on waiting until he returned to the ranch. As he tied his horse on the corral fence, the three musicians stopped warming up and played the opening strings to the Virginia Reel.

Johanna stood on the porch and yelled loud enough for anyone within five miles to hear that it was time to move inside the barn.

Emma organized a chain of ladies to pass all remaining desserts to the tables set up along the fringes of the dance floor. Quilts were hung from the loft, hiding the stalls and along the rafters to block wind. Color rainbowed the interior, adding a feeling of warmth to the old shelter, while the aroma of hot cider melted through the air.

Mary stayed in the kitchen cutting pies with a silver pie server Johanna insisted she use. She wanted no part of this dance, or of Cooper Adams. But Winnie pulled her out, insisting she had to watch Miles dance.

“He doesn’t,” Mary tried to tell her as they hurried toward the barn. “He can’t.”

Winnie didn’t bother to argue.

Ten minutes later, Mary stood just out of the circle of light glowing from lanterns above and watched as her brother took Winnie’s hand. They walked to the center. Music played. Miles bowed as if he were dressed in formal clothes and Winnie in a ball gown. Winnie placed her hand in his and they began to waltz.

Everyone watched as they danced alone in the center of the dirt floor. His step was awkward. Winnie’s short, round body and his lean frame didn’t match at all. But no one in the room noticed, for Winnie smiled up at the scarred face of Miles Woodburn as though he were the most handsome man in the state, and he looked down at her with eyes that told everyone that she was beautiful.

Slowly, others joined the waltz. They circled around the strange couple. Mary lost sight of her brother. For a while she stood in the shadows, fighting tears and trying to remember how long it had been since she’d seen Miles smile. Years ago she decided he had forgotten how.

As the music changed and folks sought other partners, Mary sank into the darkness between quilt curtains, wishing, as she often did, that she could become invisible. All these years she thought her brother had been the sad one, the lonely one, and she’d been the one who stayed with him. She was the rock and he was the one who suffered from all they’d lost. The possibility that she might have been the sibling who couldn’t have survived alone clouded her mind.

An hour into the dance, a group of cowhands from the Rocking R arrived, accompanied by several men she’d never seen. They must have started drinking while cleaning up for the party, for they entered loud and the atmosphere shifted subtly from that of a ball to a dance hall.

The rough newcomers reminded her of mustangs. Restless, untamed. She guessed they had been hired to help with the cattle drive leaving at dawn. She noticed the county marshal had quit dancing and watched the crowd.

Mary curled deeper into the shadows. She wished she were home reading and away from these men she’d never seen before. Their manners belonged on the trail, not in polite company.

Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t notice people moving about her. She closed her eyes and tried to remember what it had felt like to dance with Cooper in the Andrewses’ livery. She tried to pinpoint the moment she realized she loved him. Maybe it was when he kissed her, or when he handed her his treasured book, or maybe it was before they ever spoke. Something about him drew her, long before he knew her name. She liked the way he tipped his hat to the ladies when he walked down Main Street and the way he always patted his horse at the post office as if thanking the animal. She’d watched him for years, wishing she were brave enough to talk to him.

Not that it mattered, she told herself. They would never talk again, or even be friends now. Her pride would not allow it. Not after he said he was sorry for kissing her.

The murmur of a man’s raspy voice drifted into Mary’s thoughts.

“Another half hour, that should be about right.”

Mary didn’t breathe. Someone stood only a foot away from her, but hadn’t seen her in the darkness. She pushed against the thick pole that stretched to the roof, wishing she could disappear into the wood. A quilt above her head blew in the evening breeze, playing hideandseek with her in the shadows.

“We’ll give everyone a chance to enjoy the dance, drink a little too much, get tired,” the low voice whispered again. “Then, when the shouting starts, they’ll react without thinking.”

A youthful voice answered back. “I don’t know about this plan. If you ask me, we should do some more pondering before we act. After tomorrow, most of Adams’s men will be gone. I figure, then the three of us can take him if he catches us.”

Mary guessed the second man must still be in his teens for his voice hadn’t completely changed. He sounded frightened.

“Don’t chicken out on me now. You want that horse, don’t you? In an hour we’ll have every man in this county running after rustlers. All we have to do is walk away with that Steeldust colt of Adams’s. He’ll never know what happened. He’ll just come back from chasing a lie and the little horse will be gone, vanished into thin air.”

“But what about the women?” The boy’s voice cracked again. “Them old maid sisters of his don’t exactly look helpless. Hell, half the women here can probably handle a gun better than me.”

“Don’t worry about them,” the man with gravel in his tone answered. “Once the men leave, the women will head into the house. They’ll be so busy talking they won’t even hear us. And if one of them does wander out of the house, Len will take care of her with his knife.”

The second voice climbed higher. “Now, wait a minute, I ain’t for no killin’ofwomen. I thought we were just here for the colt, nothing more. I know you don’t like Adams ’cause he fired you, but that ain’t no reason to hurt the womenfolk.”

“Don’t worry. Women never wander out on their own. They only travel in herds.”

“Well, just in case, tell Len to say he’s supposed to move the colt if one of them comes out. That way it won’t cause no suspicion. I don’t mind killin’Adams if he gets in the way, but I don’t want to start leaving too many bodies or the next thing I know, the Rangers will be looking for me the way they’re looking for you.”

“You go tell Len. He’s out by the corral waiting.” With a mixture of anger and authority the older man left no doubt that he was the leader. “I want to watch the dancing.”

Mary heard them moving behind her. The tinkling of their spurs soured the music’s rhythm. She waited, hoping one of them would step into the light, but there were too many people. One, or both, could easily blend into the crowd.

She circled between the groups of people, eager to spot the face that would match the young southern voice. But most of the cowhands looked the same. Tall, lean, tanned by the sun. The lively music and laughter intermingled voices. She hoped to catch a few words that sounded like one of the men she’d overheard.

She didn’t notice Cooper standing beside her until he spoke.

“Would you dance with me, Mary, if I promised not to talk to you?” His face was guarded, void of all expression. She couldn’t be sure if he looked worried, or angry, or if he was simply playing host.

Dancing was the last thing she wanted to do, but she had to tell him what she’d heard. Even if it was some kind of joke the boys were playing, Cooper had a right to be warned. Only they hadn’t sounded like they were joking.

Mary faced him and slowly raised her hand. “You promise not to say a word?”

“Cross my heart, darlin’,” he answered. The hint of a smile fought its way across his face as his hand reached for hers. The worry lines along his forehead relaxed.

“Good, because I’ve something I have to tell you.” Mary couldn’t read him. He gripped her fingers as if he had been looking for her for hours and didn’t plan to let her go anytime soon, but his eyes held an uncertainty. “It…”

“It can wait,” he whispered against her cheek as he pulled her onto the floor.

His arm felt solid around her waist, but he didn’t pull her as close as he had when they’d danced in the livery. His fingers caressed hers as he swung her in time to the music. For a man who claimed to hate dances and told his sisters he saw no need for a ball, Cooper managed to keep in step. At first, Mary thought of nothing but trying to stay up with him without making a fool of herself. She wasn’t about to tell him she had never truly danced, but she feared it was apparent, for she could not seem to follow him or the music.

When she tromped across his boots for the fourth time, he leaned close and whispered, “Why don’t you just stand on them, darlin’. At least then I’ll know where you are.”

Mary felt her face blush all the way to her hairline. She fought to pull away, but he held her as they continued to try to follow the music.

Anger boiled inside her. She was trying to help him but he guided her into the center of the room, a place she never wanted to be. Mary fired out the first thing that came to her mind. “Stop calling me darling!”

He pulled her far too close to be considered proper. “I’m not even talking to you.” He brushed her ear with his lips as he spoke. “Relax. Dance with me, Mary. Just like you did before when no one was watching.”

“I don’t want to dance,” she answered, aware that people stared at them. “I need to talk to you.”

“I thought we were never speaking again.”

“Shut up and listen.” Mary decided Cooper would drive a mute woman to scream. Her own meek ways were fading fast in frustration.

He laughed again, loud enough that several couples turned to face them. “You’re sure getting bossy, Mary, my dear.”

Releasing all but her hand, he walked to the side of the musicians’ stand. The tune was too loud for conversation. Mary didn’t want to shout. Without a word, she tugged at his arm and pulled him into the back of the barn.

He made no protest as they slipped between the patchwork blankets and melted into the blackness of one of the horse stalls. Mary slowed and gripped his arm tighter. The place had been swept clean, but the smell of hay and horses still lingered.

As she crossed the darkness, he moved closer, letting her know he was right beside her. The warmth of his body comforted and excited her at the same time. When she touched the smooth wood at the back of the stall, she turned to face him. “Cooper, I have to-”

“I know, I lied.” His hands moved up her arms and into her hair. “I’ll never be sorry for kissing you,” he said, a moment before his mouth found hers. His kiss was hard and hungry, as though he’d been starving.

Mary opened her mouth to protest and the kiss deepened.

He leaned closer, pushing her against the back of the stall. Her mind told her this was insane, there was information he must know. He might even be in danger. But pleasure stampeded over reason.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she returned his kiss.

He took the advance with a low moan and welcomed her along the length of him. They moved, like old lovers, in perfect harmony to this dance.

Her hair tumbled free. His hand spread into the dark curls, lost in the softness as he drank deep of the taste of her. Quiet, shy, plain little Mary had somehow become the woman he knew he couldn’t live without. Even in the darkness, with the music playing and people laughing only a few feet away, Cooper couldn’t bring himself to stop. From the moment he’d helped her off the horse and she slipped from his arms, all he’d been able to think about was her. He’d gone half mad trying to look for her without being obvious. About the time he decided she must have left the party and walked back to town, she appeared.

She rushed to him, saying she needed to talk, pulling him into the shadows. He forgot all the words he’d planned to say to her. Now he couldn’t get close enough to her. It didn’t matter if they talked, as long as they held one another. He planned to take a lifetime to convince her how he felt; right now all he wanted to do was show her.

She thawed as he touched her.

Hesitantly, he brushed his fingers over her breast and caught her reaction against his lips. She moved so that his hand caressed her once more.

Pure pleasure bolted through his blood. He closed his fingers around her, feeling the soft mound through thin cotton. Her dress might be drab and ordinary, but there was nothing short of perfection in his hand.

Widening his fingers, he moved his hands slowly along her sides as he kissed her, loving the way she swayed against him when he cupped her round bottom.

He wanted to undress her. To make love to her. He didn’t care if the entire county saw them. But he would wait. For now, just holding her would have to be enough.

His arms closed around her and he straightened, lifting her off the ground. She was his as surely as if they’d said the words. He had finally found his mate. Whether he bedded her this night, or waited a year, didn’t matter. She was his other half, and he was hers.

He pulled an inch away and whispered, “Marry me, Mary.”

Before she could answer, shouts exploded from the other side of the quilts. The music stopped. Everyone spoke at once. Cooper circled his arm around her shoulder as they ran toward the light.

“Rustlers!” someone yelled beyond the dancers. “They’re driving the herd out of Echo Canyon. Hurry!”

The women cried out and scrambled for their children. The men moved in a mass toward the barn door and their horses.

“Let’s ride!” one man shouted. “We’ll catch them this time!”

“Get my rifle from the wagon. I’ll give them a fair trial before I shoot every last one of them.”

“Hurry, men! We don’t want any to get away.”

Cooper almost dragged Mary along, for she held with a death grip on his arm. They crossed with the others to the corral, where the horses seemed to catch the excitement.

“You can’t go!” She pulled at his arm, realizing for the first time how much stronger he was than her.

He barely heard her above the crowd. “I have to. A year’s work depends on those cattle.” He tried to be gentle. “Don’t worry. I’ll be back in a few hours.”

Her grip didn’t loosen. “You can’t go! I heard men talking…”

Cooper pulled from her as Duly brought up his horse. The midnight mare pranced between them. “Stay with my sisters!” he yelled as he swung onto the saddle.

“Don’t go!” She had no time to explain. “Your future is in danger. Don’t go!” Mary wasn’t sure if he heard her last words. Everyone shouted as the men rode off toward Echo Canyon.

Once the men left, the women and children stood outside the barn and listened until they no longer heard the sound of hooves pounding. For a few minutes all was silent. Too silent.

Johanna’s voice rang like a lone bell. “Come along. Let’s go inside. We’ve nothing to do but make coffee and wait.”

Everyone seemed to agree. They gathered children and moved inside the house. Mary glanced around in panic, wishing she had a horse. Maybe she could catch up with the men. If she tried harder, she could make him understand.

But even the old nags had been untied from the wagons and ridden bareback by men in a hurry. Nothing remained in the corral except a dozen young colts shooed off into the corners.

Mary hurried to the fence. One of them had to be the Steeldust colt the strangers planned to take. But which one? She tried to remember what the colt had looked like the day Cooper showed him to her, but she’d been paying more attention to his hand touching hers than to the horse.

She couldn’t watch them all. It was so dark she wasn’t sure she could even see several of the animals. And even if she did keep her eye on the colt, how would she be able to stop men from taking it?

Glancing back at the house, she noticed Miles standing alone in the shadows beside the porch. She knew why he was there. He wouldn’t go in with the women. He couldn’t ride with the men.

Mary ran to her brother. As she pulled him toward the corral, she tried to remember all she’d heard. They had to somehow protect the colt. But the enemy had no face and she knew few details.

Miles listened to her ramblings, but she could see it in his face as clearly as if he’d said the words, What can I do? What help would I be?

When words finally came all he said was, “Go in with the women, Mary.”

“I’m staying,” she said as he took a step toward the house.

He shifted, waiting for her to come to her senses. “You’re going back to the house,” Miles ordered, as he always did.

“No,” she answered just as strongly. “Not this time. It is my fault Cooper wasn’t warned about the trick. I should have told him.”

“But what if you run into the rustlers? What then, Mary? You said there were three. You don’t even have a weapon.”

Her brother knew her for the coward she was. Afraid of the dark. Afraid of the sound of spurs. Afraid of almost every man in the state. What did she think she could do against three men?

“Come back with me,” Miles asked again.

“No,” she answered. “I have to try.”

Even in the darkness she could see it in his eyes. He would no longer play the parent role in her life, she would never again be the child. “All right.” He moved toward her. “Then I’ll stay also.”

Mary knew they were still no match for three armed men, but she was glad Miles stayed.

“Evenin’,” came a low voice from the shadows. Spurs jingled as a man stepped into the faint light coming from the barn door. “So, we meet again.”

It had been almost a year, but Mary knew the stranger’s voice. She’d heard it last in the darkness of the store.

She couldn’t breathe as the man moved closer. The feel of his hands gripping her arms, his hot words shouted in her face, the smell of whiskey, all flooded her mind. He had been so polite, so nice that afternoon, but in the shadows, anger twisted his words.

“Adams will be back in a few minutes with his men,” Miles threatened as he stepped in front of Mary. “You had better be gone before he returns.”

The intruder pulled a long Bowie knife from his boot. “Don’t try to fool me, Yank. He won’t return for hours. He and every man for miles around will be chasing shadows tonight.”

“I’ll not let you take the colt.” Miles stood his ground.

The man laughed. “How do you plan to stop me? If you had a gun it would already be pointing in my direction and you’d be no match for me with a knife even if you had one.”

“Kill them and be done with it, Len.” A man on horseback rode out of the blackness. “We ain’t got all night.” His gruff voice rattled across the damp air.

Mary recognized him as one she’d heard earlier during the dance. The planner.

“Now, wait a minute, boss. You don’t know who we’re dealing with. This Yank won’t fight. It ain’t no fun killing a man who won’t fight back.” Len moved a step closer and pointed with his knife. “But the woman, she screams and fights like crazy. I’ll have to slit her throat, before I let the Yank die a little at a time.”

“Do what you have to do,” the leader said calmly as if they were of no importance to him. “The kid backed out on us. I’ll need your help rounding up the colt. Get rid of the witnesses.”

Chapter Thirteen

COOPER YELLED ORDERS for his men to guard the herd and let the others worry about chasing rustlers as he turned the midnight mare toward home.

“But, boss?” a ranch hand yelled over the thunder of hooves. “Don’t you want in on the ride? They couldn’t outrun us.”

Cooper didn’t bother answering. Three times the men required to round up a half dozen rustlers were riding north at full speed. The county marshal took the lead, much more at home than he’d been on the dance floor. Cooper wasn’t needed in Echo Canyon. Something about the call to arms gnawed at him. Why would men try to steal a herd the night before a drive began when every ablebodied cowhand was camped out, waiting to get started, or at the dance a few miles away? And if they’d moved that many cattle, why hadn’t someone heard? Cooper might have been occupied, but Duly had maintained a residence on the porch all night. The old cook could smell rain before a cloud formed.

Cooper couldn’t remember the number of times he’d seen Duly start thinning the gravy before anyone else even heard riders arriving for supper.

Pushing his horse harder toward home, Cooper tried to make the pieces fit.

Mary’s last words haunted him. She’d said his future was in danger. Even if the cattle he put into the drive were stolen, the ranch would stand the loss. Didn’t she understand that he was solid enough to survive?

He figured the cattle, even the Steeldust colt, could disappear and they’d still make it as long as she was by his side. He had to tell her that his need for her was more than an ache deep inside. He’d built the ranch for nothing if he didn’t have her to share it with. These past years he’d worked thinking he would be happy, when all he needed was to find her.

She must know that she was his future. The last few minutes they’d been together before the shouting started had left no doubt how he felt. She was his future, the only future he wanted. Why would she think she was in danger? Mary would be safe with his sisters and the other women.

Cooper didn’t slow until he spotted the house. The pale moon offered him little help as he neared. He heard women’s voices braided with laughter. He breathed for the first time since he’d turned the mare around.

Whatever frightened Mary had been only in her mind. He’d have to learn that about her if he planned to cherish her for the next fifty or so years. She was gentle and kind and intelligent, but not brave. He would be brave enough for them both.

Cooper grinned as he stepped onto the porch. If he’d wanted brave, bossy, and absentminded he would have looked for a woman like one of his sisters. But he wanted Mary, who needed him to take care of her and protect her and love her.

As he walked into the house his gaze searched for her. From now on he’d find her here when he got home, he thought. She’d be the one who had supper ready, who waited for him, who bore his children, who completed his life.

His house was, at present, full of every size and age of woman. They circled in small groups, busy visiting. Mary wasn’t among them.

Johanna walked by with a plate of rockhard cookies made by one of the Williams girls. “Forget something?” she asked when he refused her offer.

“Still trying to pawn off those cookies?” Cooper barely glanced at her as he continued searching the room.

“I have to. I don’t want to hurt poor Janice’s feelings. Having to take a full plate home, when most of the other desserts are gone, would injure her. It is my duty as hostess.”

Cooper had no time for Johanna’s endless social considerations. “Have you seen Mary?”

“No,” she answered as she slipped a few cookies into his jacket pocket. “Don’t worry,” she whispered. “They won’t crumble.”

“Did she leave?”

“Who?”

“Mary.”

“I don’t know. Winnie asked me a few minutes ago about Miles. Maybe they went home, though I’d think they would have at least said goodbye. A simple ‘Thank you for the invitation’ would have been appropriate.”

Cooper moved through the crowd, leaving Johanna talking. When he spotted Winnie, he mouthed one word. “Mary?”

Winnie shook her head and followed as he hurried out the kitchen door.

The old buggy Miles had managed to get to the dance was still pulled up beside the barn.

Cooper moved faster. He felt it now. Something was wrong. Mary hadn’t been simply frightened. She’d tried to warn him. But of what? No one would bother the women. The men were well armed. All seemed secure, but suddenly fear chewed its way through Cooper’s insides.

“Something’s wrong,” Winnie whispered, her breathing coming out in a low whistle. “I haven’t seen Miles since the other men left.”

They circled the house and headed toward the barn.

At the sound of Mary’s voice just beyond the corral opening, Cooper froze.

Winnie slammed into his back, almost knocking him to the ground. He steadied himself and motioned for her to be quiet, though he found it hard to believe those ahead of them in the blackness couldn’t hear Winnie’s breathing. She’d run so hard, she sounded like a teakettle at full steam.

“What…is… it?” she said as she swallowed great gulps of air.

But Cooper wasn’t there to answer her question. He’d already crossed the blackness and stood by the corral, his gun drawn. He could make out three figures circled by a lantern’s low glow.

Miles’s voice sounded deadly earnest. “I’ll not allow you to harm my sister.”

“And what are you going to do?” the man with his back to Cooper asked. “Kill me?”

“If I have to. I’ve killed men before.”

Cooper watched as Miles stepped away from Mary and toward the man holding a huge knife. Mary backed into the shadows, her dark clothes blending her from sight.

“You see,” Miles sounded almost as if he were giving a lecture, “it’s not all that hard to kill a man. Sometimes, in life, the true challenge is trying not to end a life.” He continued moving toward the knife pointed at his gut. “Sometimes you have to weigh one life against another.”

Still several feet away, Cooper pointed his weapon to the center of the stranger’s back. If the armed man lunged toward Miles or Mary he’d be dead before he could do any damage with the knife. Cooper wished he were closer and could whisper to Mary that all was under control, but he wasn’t even sure where she was in the shadows.

“Don’t move,” a raspy voice whispered from just behind him as Cooper felt the barrel of a gun press against his side. “Let’s just watch this play out without interrupting Len. I’ve heard he’s an artist of sorts at his craft.”

Cooper didn’t take his eyes off the man with the knife. He didn’t need to see the stranger behind him. Cooper’s plan hadn’t changed. He would fire if the knife moved and take his chances with whoever stood behind him.

A slight whistling sound rushed across the darkness. Len turned his head, listening.

Without any hint or warning, Miles jumped toward the knife. The blade sliced across his coat sleeve before he knocked it from Len’s hand with expert ease. They struggled, but Len only fought when armed and wasn’t prepared for the force of Miles’s attack. Len’s mistake was in fighting to retrieve the knife and not defending himself. The seasoned Yank won out, pinning Len to the ground.

Winnie rushed up, yelling, “He won’t hit you. Miles swore he never would, even though he had special training in the war.” She leaned down, only a few inches from the stranger’s face. “But I didn’t promise anything.” She doubled up her fist and slammed it into Len’s eye. “How dare you try to hurt folks!” Another punch pounded his nose. “Don’t you know better than to threaten people with a knife!” She hit him again. “You could have killed the man I’m going to marry.”

Winnie paused in midstrike and turned to Miles. “Are you all right, dear?”

Miles laughed. “I’m fine. The blade only sliced my jacket.”

Winnie turned back to the stranger and let another blow fly. “That’s his good suit!” she yelled. “You should be more careful.”

Len spit blood, struggled, and cried for help all at the same time, but Miles’s good knee pinned him down.

Cooper would have joined the laughter, but a gun still dug into his side and he could sense frustration.

“Tell them to stop,” the raspy voice whispered, suddenly angry. “Or you’re a dead man, Adams.”

Cooper didn’t move. Like Miles, he’d been in enough battles to know to wait for just the right moment for action.

Mary’s frightened voice came from somewhere behind Cooper. “Lower the gun, mister.”

Cooper felt the man hesitate. “You won’t use that knife, little lady. Just because you may have found Len’s blade don’t make you killer enough to use it.”

“Are you willing to bet your life on that?” Mary’s voice shook.

When the stranger twisted to see Mary, he offered Cooper the chance he’d been waiting for. He swung around and flattened the man with one blow. The gun that had been digging into his ribs fired harmlessly into the night sky, bringing women and lanterns from the house.

Cooper straightened and turned in time to catch Mary flying into his arms. He held her against his heart. “It’s all right, darlin’. It’s over.” He felt her body trembling. “You may have saved my life, you know.”

He slid his hand along her arm, wanting to calm her. “That was very brave of you holding a knife on a man.”

As the handle to her weapon fell into his hand, she stammered, “It wasn’t a knife, it’s a pie server. Johanna insisted I carry it.”

Cooper laughed and held her close. His timid little Mary was far braver than he’d given her credit for being. “Don’t tell Johanna what you used it for.”

“Oh, no. I’m not that brave.” Mary giggled in his ear.

Miles hauled Len onto the porch while Cooper half carried the other man. Within a few minutes they were tied up and waiting delivery when the county marshal returned. Winnie continued to pound on Len until Miles gently pulled her away, swearing he planned never to make her angry.

Despite all the women gathering around asking questions, Cooper managed to find Mary. He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her off the ground, kissing her soundly. When he finally straightened and faced the crowd, Miles was staring at him. For a moment, Cooper wasn’t sure what might happen, for he remembered Miles’s warning to stay away from Mary. Then the Yank smiled and Cooper knew there would be no more battles to fight tonight.

Johanna’s voice rose above all the noise. “A thankyou would be enough, Cooper. Or of course, since she may have saved your life, a handshake might be proper.”

He pulled an inch away and stared down at the face of the woman he would love for the rest of his life. “You didn’t answer my question, Mary. Will you marry me?”

“More,” she whispered, brushing her lips over his.

She didn’t have to ask twice. He’d propose again later; right now he had a promise to keep.