Daisies in the Canyon (25 page)

“How’d you know about that?”

“Rusty is my friend.”

“I needed to get out of the forest for a little while so I could see the trees.”

He laid a hand on hers. “What happens next time the trees start to smother you? Will you leave without even talking to me?”

She shook her head. “No, I won’t. It’s not fair to you or to my sisters.”

He handed her one of the two spoons he’d stuck into the ice cream. One bowl. Two spoons. Was it symbolic? Dammit! She wanted answers, not more questions.

“I don’t think you’ve completely gotten rid of those wings yet,” he said.

“Maybe not.” She dug deep into the ice cream. “But I know I belong in the canyon. That much I did get settled.”

“That’s a start.” He smiled.

“And everything has to start somewhere, right?”

He leaned across the distance separating them and brushed a kiss across her lips. “You got that right, ma’am.”

They finished the ice cream and she shivered. “Cold now, and it’s literal. I should be going home. It’s late.”

“Thanks for coming over, Abby. I’ll walk you out to the truck.” He set the empty bowl on the porch and dusted off the seat of his jeans when he stood up.

She put her hand in his when he held it out and wasn’t a bit surprised at the reaction in her body when his skin touched hers—or that she liked it.

He kissed her on the forehead when they reached the truck. “Abby, I would never hurt you. Trust me.”

“It’s not you I have to trust, Cooper. It’s me, but I’ll figure it all out eventually.”

“I know you will,” he said and waved from the porch as she drove away.

At midnight she was in her own bed. She’d beat the pillow into submission half a dozen times. She’d rolled from one side to the other, disturbing Martha so many times that finally the dog relocated to the chair. When sleep finally came, it was riddled with dreams of little girls, of Cooper walking away from her, of Malloy Ranch burning to the ground. The alarm woke her at the same time it did every morning, but she was more tired than when she went to bed.

Chapter Nineteen

M
artha wiggled around in the big velvet rocking chair to catch more of the fading sunlight on her face. Bonnie sat cross-legged on the floor on one side of the chair with Shiloh on the other side.

“There’s a bed right there. Y’all don’t have to sit on the floor,” Abby said.

“I’ve only conquered sitting in Ezra’s chair in the past few days. I’m not ready to sit on his bed,” Bonnie said.

“Your superstition is showing.” Abby leaned closer to the mirror above the chest of drawers and applied mascara.

“I was raised up in the hollers of Kentucky. Superstition is part of our culture. It will surface real often, so get used to it,” Bonnie answered.

“I thought that belonged to folks in Louisiana,” Abby said.

“They don’t get to claim all the rights. Neither does Kentucky. In my family, it’s put into our DNA long before we’re born,” Shiloh said. “How about you, Abby? You superstitious?”

She shook her head. “I’m not so sure I know what I am anymore.”

“Wonder if Ezra was superstitious?” Bonnie asked. “My mama is, so if he was, I got a double dose.”

“So is my mama. She’ll drive around four city blocks to keep from crossing the same road that a black cat has,” Shiloh said.

“So was my mama. She had lucky numbers and she always read her horoscope, but I’ve slept in that bed every night since we arrived on this ranch and lightning hasn’t struck me. I haven’t even dreamed about Ezra. He hasn’t appeared like a hologram in the corner at night, either. If he had, I wouldn’t be here.” Abby laughed.

Bonnie chuckled. “Changing the subject here. How are things with Cooper?”

“Remember that conversation we had about commitment? I’m scared out of my mind at this point when it comes to Cooper.”

“Cooper is a good man,” Bonnie said.

“I know that. My heart knows that, but there’s a little part of me afraid of getting hurt if . . .” Abby left the sentence hanging.

“Ever hear that song, ‘The Dance,’ that Garth Brooks sang years ago? One of the lines says something about ‘you could have missed the pain, but you’d have had to miss the dance,’ ” Bonnie said.

“That makes sense. Life don’t come with promises of rainbows without the rain first. You and Cooper belong together. Don’t be afraid,” Shiloh said.

“Coming from the person who has the same issues I do?” Abby asked.

“Yes, I do and when I find someone, I’m going to come whining to you about it being complicated. Don’t you just love that word? It covers a multitude of stuff. What happened between you and Cooper that you haven’t told us?” Shiloh asked.

“Not the sex part.” Bonnie laughed. “You can keep that part secret, but tell us what happened afterward.”

Abby hesitated as she tried to put into words the feelings she’d had the night before.

“Either get out of the water or dive in. You can’t stand on the shore with your toes in the surf,” Shiloh said.

“My advice is to dive, because if you don’t, you will be miserable your whole life. And,” Bonnie said, “you’ll have to go to church tomorrow and pray for a crop failure with all those seeds, won’t you? I do hope you used protection of some kind.”

Abby’s chest tightened up and she had trouble catching her next breath. She hadn’t even thought of protection. The prescription for her birth control had run out several months ago and since she wasn’t seeing anyone, she hadn’t bothered to see a doctor to get a new one. Shutting her eyes so she could think better, she replayed both times she’d had sex with Cooper.

God Almighty, had the canyon wiped out her ability to think straight or did Cooper get that credit? Not once in all her life had she fallen into bed with someone as quickly as she had with Cooper—or been as irresponsible, either.

Before she could form words to answer Bonnie, someone rapped on the front door. Abby checked the clock beside her bed and saw that Cooper was right on time for their date to go to the Sugar Shack.

“Don’t just sit there. Go let him in,” Bonnie said.

“And have fun,” Shiloh said.

“Why don’t y’all go have some fun tonight, too? You don’t have to have a date to get in the doors at the Sugar Shack.” She fished in her purse for her keys and tossed them at Bonnie. “Take my truck. They might not even let you park a van in the lot at a honky-tonk.”

“Why not?” Shiloh asked.

Bonnie caught them midair. “Because it’s a cowboy place and they might only allow trucks. Don’t argue. She’s offering to loan us her royal chariot tonight.”

“Hey, is there a gorgeous woman in this house who’s promised to dance with this rusty old cowboy tonight?” Cooper’s voice floated down the hall.

“It’s not a royal chariot,” Abby said.

“You are the queen, the firstborn, which gives you the crown until you jump the barbed-wire fence over onto the Lucky Seven. Right, Bonnie?” Shiloh grinned.

Bonnie dangled the keys in the air. “Yes, ma’am, she does.”

She rolled her eyes at her sisters and made her way to the living room, where Cooper waited with another bouquet of gorgeous daisies. This time they were all yellow with brown centers and arranged in a quart-sized fruit jar with a big blue ribbon tied around the top.

He held them out to her. “For the lovely blonde lady with the blue eyes.”

She took them in one hand and rolled up on her toes to kiss him. “They are beautiful.”

“But you are gorgeous this evening,” he whispered.

“Thank you,” she smiled up at him. It would be easy to fall in love with him, just like she’d said when she was drunk off her ass.

“More flowers. I’m jealous,” Shiloh said as she made her way down the hall.

Bonnie was right behind her and held out a hand. “Give them to me and I’ll put them in your room.”

“Thank you,” Abby said.

Cooper laced his fingers in hers. “We’re off to the Sugar Shack to do some serious dancing.”

“We might see you there in a little while. If you’d give us directions, we would appreciate it,” Bonnie said.

Cooper quickly told them how to get there and then he led Abby outside. The sunset had finished its show for the evening and the stars had popped out. A big lover’s moon rested on top of the chimney-shaped formation as if it were a gazing ball. Too damn bad it couldn’t show her a glimpse of the future.

With his hand holding hers on the console, she should be giddy with excitement at going on the first real date in months, but instead she was thinking of that fear-of-commitment thing.

“You have got to be kidding me. This is the Sugar Shack?” Abby asked when Cooper parked the truck in the lot of the ugliest building she’d ever seen.

“No, ma’am. Up until a couple of years ago it looked like a shack. And then Tiny Lee—that would be the owner of the place—had a customer who couldn’t pay his bill.”

“And he spray-painted the thing with Pepto-Bismol?”

“That’s not paint, darlin’. It’s vinyl siding. The feller who couldn’t pay hung siding for a living. He’d ordered too much for a job, so he was stuck with it. Tiny Lee said he could work off his bill by using it on the Sugar Shack.”

“That is some seriously ugly stuff,” Abby said. “You should have loaned him your pistol so he could shoot the fellow rather than let him put up pink siding on a honky-tonk.”

Cooper chuckled. “He has a pump shotgun up under the bar and he’s not a bit afraid to get it out. Are we ready to let me show you how I can waltz a lovely lady around the dance floor?”

“No, if I’ve got to sit on the sidelines while you dance with a lovely lady, then you can take me back home,” she said.

He leaned across the console, turned her to face him, and kissed her. “There won’t be another lady in that joint who will be able to get me to take my eyes off you, darlin’.”

“Then let’s go dance.”

Dance. Drink a little beer. It was a date, for God’s sake, not a damn proposal. She should enjoy the flirting and the evening, not be wound up tighter than a hooker in the front row of a tent revival. She determined that she would loosen up and enjoy the time with Cooper and most importantly, push all the heavy thoughts out of her mind.

Lord, nothing could go wrong anyway in an ugly pink building called the Sugar Shack. In that she could trust.

Cooper opened the truck door for her and she put her hand in his. “Have I told you that you are one sexy cowboy tonight? I’m sorry that I forgot my pistol.”

“What on earth would you need a pistol for?”

“To shoot all the wild women who try to worm their way between me and you.” She smiled up at him.

“Maybe you could borrow Tiny Lee’s shotgun,” he flirted right back. “I was just thinking that I might need to use it to keep the cowboys away from you.”

He looked like sex on a stick that evening in his tight jeans, polished boots, brown-and-yellow plaid pearl-snap shirt, and the faded denim jacket. She couldn’t wait to get inside to dance with him.

Country music echoed out across the canyon long before they made it to the door. Folks must have been line dancing because Abby could hear “Yee-haw” periodically as Travis sang “T.R.O.U.B.L.E.”

“That’s an old one,” she said. “The way the women are turning around to look at you, I think you might be the trouble who just walked in the door.”

Cooper grabbed her hand and twirled her around right there on the porch. “Tiny Lee keeps a few current ones, but he likes the old stuff best and no one argues with him.”

“Hey, Coop, that don’t look a thing like the redhead you brought in here last night,” the enormous man behind the bar yelled.

“Who was the redhead?” she asked.

“Tiny’s teasing. I was with you eating ice cream on my front porch, remember,” Cooper said.

Tiny Lee motioned them toward the bar. “You bring her on over here and introduce her proper, or else I’ll get the gun out and chase your sorry ass out of my honky-tonk.”

Cooper draped his arm around Abby’s shoulder and led her to the bar. “Tiny Lee, this is Abby Malloy. Abby, meet Tiny Lee, the owner of this fine establishment.”

Tiny Lee extended a hand as big as a ham with fingers like sausages across the bar and shook hands with Abby. “Truth is, Miz Abby, that I’m glad to see Coop with a woman. He’s been runnin’ single too long. And any kid of Ezra’s is welcome in my bar. He was a salty old bastard, but he was honest and paid his bills. He could dance the boot leather off half the women in the canyon without breakin’ a sweat.”

“Thank you,” Abby said.

“First drink is on the house. What will it be? You have to belong to Martha, the first wife, because you look just like her. What’s the other two girls look like?”

“Coors, longneck in the bottle,” she said. “Shiloh and Bonnie seem to look like their mamas, but I understand we all got Ezra’s blue eyes and stubborn streak.”

“God save the canyon.” Tiny Lee rolled his eyes as he wiped the chilly water from a beer and set it on the counter. “And what are you drinkin’, Coop?”

“The same,” he said.

Tiny Lee leaned over the bar and whispered. “He’s a good man, but if you want a man with a steady income who’ll appreciate you, then you need to flirt with me.”

“I’ll remember that.” Abby grinned.

“I see an empty table. Let’s go claim it and then hit the dance floor. And Tiny Lee, you stop trying to beat my time or I’ll take your sorry old ass into the county jail for serving beer to minors,” Cooper said.

Tiny Lee threw back his head and laughed. A man that size should have laughed like a biker or a trucker, but his laughter was as high-pitched as a little girl’s.

Cooper took Abby’s hand and wove his way through the people until they were at an empty table for four. Before they could set their beers down, Nona, Travis, and Waylon joined them. Nona counted chairs and sat down in Travis’s lap.

“Abby, it’s good to see you again. Where’s the other two sisters?”

“Shiloh and Bonnie might be along in a little while. Nice to see you all again,” Abby said. “This cowboy right here has promised me a bunch of dances. Miz Nona, you are welcome to my chair.”

“I kind of like the one I have right here. A cowboy that promises a woman a bunch of dances means he’s gettin’ the brand heated up,” Nona said.

“I hope not,” Abby said.

Luke Bryan’s voice singing “Drunk on You” came through the jukebox and Cooper had not been lying when he said he could dance. But something was wrong. He was executing a fine fast two-step, but he wouldn’t look at her.