Authors: Kat Morrisey
Sarah threw herself at Kyla, hugging her tightly and Maggie joined in. Sarah spoke
first, sniffling as she did, “Good, because if you were leaving I might have had to
follow you.”
The women were still crying when Coop was suddenly filling the doorframe.
“Is this a hug anyone can join?”
Kyla smiled at her man. “Jealous?”
“Am I jealous of hot women hugging on each other? Hell no. Just wondering if I can
be part of the action.” He grinned as Kyla shot him one of her patented glares—she
had a feeling she was going to need a lifetime supply of them. “That isn’t too effective
when it’s cute as hell, doll.” He winked and then headed out to the grill.
“Whatever,” Kyla muttered, smiling as Sarah cracked up.
Maggie left their huddle and came out from the house a few minutes later, pitcher
in hand. “Who needs a refill?” Both Sarah and Kyla offered their near empty glasses
before leaning back on their lounge chairs.
Sarah broke the comfortable silence a few minutes later. “I am so happy this whole
mess is finally over. Now things can get back to normal.”
Maggie lifted her glass “To normal.” The three clinked their drinks together.
Kyla nodded. “Frank is in jail, likely forever. Marla is dead. Saybrook is in jail.
Cooper and I are good. Felicia’s is re-opening and the music store is doing well.
The only downside is a man who everyone thought was creepy had to die to show the
world that, in the end, he did the right thing.”
“As cliché has it sounds, you really can’t judge a book by its cover.” Sarah’s words
were quiet but the contemplative mood was interrupted by the guys’ laughter.
Kyla looked over and flashed a bright smile to Cooper, who had his ever watchful eyes
on her. He winked. She pushed herself off the chair and started to stand.
“This is what I wanted. Happiness, family, laughter, friends, love. Never would have
thought I’d find it on the coast of Maine. But I am certainly glad I did.”
• • •
“I can’t believe Kyla’s phone caught all that went down during the attack. Who knew
we’d get a confession about Cheryl over all this. Maybe Roger can finally move on
now.”
Cooper glanced up from the grill at Sam’s comment. “Feds say it’s not a complete confession
but they have enough to hold him while they search his place and look into the rest
of the claims we were making.”
Mike snorted. “I wonder how he likes his new digs in the federal penitentiary. Hopefully
he gets a big, burly cellmate to keep him company.”
Cooped flipped the burgers. His gaze moved to Kyla, sitting with her friends on their
porch, finally safe, before he addressed Sam and Mike. “I imagine he’s in solitary.
Or at least I hope he is. I think him being left alone to have to think about everything
he did, the fear he caused a lot of innocent people, the crimes he committed over
the years, especially what he did to Cheryl, is a much better punishment.”
“Yeah.” Mike took a drink of his beer. “There was another good thing that came out
of all this.” At Cooper’s raised brow, Mike grinned. “You and Kyla. You guys are playing
house and I imagine there will be more plans for the future soon, am I right?”
Cooper plated the food and the men headed inside. “If you’re asking if I’m spending
the rest of my life with her, you can bet your life on it. I almost lost her. I don’t
ever want to feel like that again.”
Sam leveled his gaze at Cooper. “Good to hear, Cooper, ‘Cause I’d have to kick your
ass if you didn’t. Or take her for myself.”
Cooper punched him in the arm as he laughed. “You can try, buddy. But she’s had the
best, no way she’s settle for anything less.”
“What are you guys laughing about?”
Kyla settled against his side and he wrapped his arm around her waist. He kissed her
on the lips. “Nothing babe, just Sam and your brother being hilarious.”
“God, can you two stop making out in front of me? I don’t know whether to punch something
or throw up,” Mike complained.
Kyla stuck her tongue out at Sam and her brother. “One day you two will find this
and wonder why you waited so long. And Cooper and I will be here to say that we told
you so.”
Sam shook his head. “Nah, not me Kyla. Besides, the best girl I know has been taken.
But if you decide to dump this guy’s sorry ass, you know where to find me.”
Kyla chuckled. “That’s not going to happen. I kinda like his ass.”
Cooper rolled his eyes. “All right, let’s get this conversation off my ass. Go get
your girls, time to eat.”
Kyla headed for the porch to get her friends and for the first time since he saw her
and her Mustang on the side of the road, Cooper didn’t feel on edge. He wasn’t worried
about her safety. He wasn’t preoccupied with what he had to do to take down the crooked
top cop. His town was safe and hopefully, on its way to being cleaned up for good.
Everything was falling into place and Cooper was content.
It was about damn time.
• • •
“See you soon, little sister.”
It was Cooper who gently pulled her back from their hug and he offered Mike his hand.
“See you for Christmas, Mike. I’m looking forward to meeting the rest of the family.”
Mike slapped him on the shoulder. “Mom is ecstatic. She’s already started making Christmas
cookies. She’s sending them to Kyla to freeze for Christmas. Hope you got a big freezer.”
Kyla groaned, her eyes round. “Oh dear lord. Be prepared.”
“Hey, I like cookies. Just might have to get some more running in if they’re as good
as those ones your mom sent last week.”
“My ass is going to be huge,” she complained.
Cooper ‘s body shook. “Good thing I like your ass then. A lot.” He winked and she
couldn’t help but smile.
“Enough of the googly-eyes. God, you two. . . .” Mike shook his head and shot a glare
at Cooper. “She’s my sister, man.”
“Sorry, I can’t help it. I have a hard time keeping my hands to myself when she’s
around.”
“All right, enough!” Her eyes danced between the two. “Mike, you need to get on the
road. Be careful and call me as soon as you get home. I’ll worry.”
Cooper lifted his chin, his face serious. “Seriously, Mike, call. She’ll drive me
nuts if you don’t.”
Her brother grinned. “Will do, man. Later.”
They watched as Mike got into his car and backed out. She settled against Cooper and
sighed, her voice soft when she finally spoke. “I lost a lot of time with him.”
Cooper brushed the hair from her shoulder and kissed her neck. “That’s all behind
you now. Nothing but good in front of you. In front of us.”
Kyla twisted her head and caught his eyes. “Do you still want me hanging around without
the chaos swirling around me?”
He arched a brow. “I’ve wanted you since before the chaos and stayed because I wanted
to be here beyond it. Yes, I still want you.” He bent his head and touched his mouth
to hers. “Don’t ever doubt that, Kyla.”
She finally let out a breath and relaxed. “Okay. Let’s go inside now. I’m cold.”
“Got just the thing to warm you up.” He smacked her ass and pushed her inside the
door. “Don’t make me chase you, baby. You know I always win.”
Kyla squealed and ran from him, “Cooper!”
“Only because I let you,” she teased and he flashed her that wicked grin that started
her engine every time. “Oh really? We’ll see about that. . . .” he challenged.
Cooper came at her and she squeaked, turning and running for the hallway. She was
laughing; any fear she had to this kind of playfulness was completely gone. She felt
his arm wrap around her middle as she turned the corner into the bathroom. “Not very
effective when you’re giggling like that, babe.” His head dipped down and his lips
brushed against the skin at her ear. “Hmm, the bathroom. Good choice, Kyla. I’ve been
wanting to take you in here for awhile now.”
Cooper’s hand moved to her pants and in half a second he had them undone and sliding
down her legs. His hand moved between her legs and she arched back against him. “Want
to give that to me, baby?”
His finger pressed in and she groaned out, “Yes.”
Cooper turned her in his arm and grinned against her mouth. “Told you. I win.”
Her mock glare made him laugh, and even more so when she had the audacity to pout.
“I wasn’t prepared. You cheated.” No one had said hands in her panties were part of
the game. Not that she was complaining.
Cooper just shook his head. “You keep believing that. But just remember this for future
reference: if this is breaking the rules, I will be doing it a lot
.
”
Kyla breath caught as she looked into his eyes. And then he went about breaking the
rules. Repeatedly.
Aaron Estes stood at the window, one hand pulling back the drapes to clear his view.
Outside, clouds hovered along the horizon, but he doubted it would rain.
Someone from town— Ross something? —had stopped by earlier and offered to do work.
The handyman had scoffed at the chance of rain. “Always cloudy,” he’d grumbled. “Never
rains.”
Aaron had shrugged and told the man politely that he didn’t need help. And he didn’t—at
least, not physical help. Spiritual help, maybe, mental health—the kind of health
that comes with peace and contentment. The kind of health he’d probably never find
again. He closed his eyes and listened for any sound of six-year-old Chloe waking,
but heard only silence. Unwelcome memories tried to push in, and he pressed his lids
tighter against his face, unwilling to give in again to the pain.
The memories came anyway: the loud, angry words of a marriage shattering. The cheery
morning greeting from the one thing he and Stella still shared—a tiny, precious miracle
of motion and light.
Chloe’s loud kiss and plaintive complaint when her mother tried to leave without kissing
Aaron goodbye hovered near the surface. He could still feel Chloe’s huge kiss on his
cheeks, hear the petulance in her voice when her mother tried to step around them.
“Mommy, you forgot Daddy’s kiss.” Stella pecked him on the cheek, and Chloe tugged
on her mom’s blouse.
“Mommy, don’t be silly. Mommies kiss daddies on the mouth.”
With lips so tight he could feel her anger, Stella stood on tiptoe and touched her
mouth to his. Then he watched as Chloe grabbed her mother’s hand, delighted that she
was playing mom today, not cop. To Chloe, the world was a game, and everyone in it,
players.
He closed his eyes, but the burning didn’t go away, so he went back to staring blindly
outside. There were no daffodils here, as there were in Alabama, but he heard that
just miles north spring came in on carpets of bluebonnets and waves of flaming Indian
paintbrush. All the locals raved about the Texas wildflowers. They said he should
go see them, but he knew he couldn’t.
The scene he’d rushed to just over a year ago crowded in: the hysteria, the cop cars
with their flashing red and blue lights; the crumpled body of a child, an injured
teacher being wheeled toward an ambulance; and an officer who knew Stella pulling
him aside. She’d taken a bullet for a kid, the officer told him. Unfaithful, maybe,
arrogant often—but nobody doubted Stella Estes’s courage.
The tears rolled down his cheeks and he wiped them away with the back of his hand,
trying not to remember that there’d been blood on the daffodils the day the world
ended.
• • •
Luz Wilkinson tugged on the girth again and nudged Pompom’s belly with a knee. “Let
it out, girl,” she urged. The little pinto sighed heavily and turned around to nose
Luz just as the cell phone in her pocket went off. Her horses would have shied at
the sudden blast of sound, and the other ponies would have lifted their heads and
pricked their ears. Pompom stood there with that complete lack of interest that indicated
absolute lack of intelligence.
Frowning over the pony’s deficiencies, Luz fished the phone out and hit the button
to silence it. She didn’t recognize the number. She hoped it wasn’t a bill collector,
but knew that it probably was.
“Hello?”
“Uh…hi. Is this Eden Acres?”
“Yes.” Luz scratched Pompom’s ear while she tried to connect a physical image with
the deep, masculine voice. She often toyed with visualizing strangers from their phone
calls, and almost always was wrong. Silence pricked her into awareness. Perhaps the
caller expected someone more enthusiastic, more helpful. Someone who could offer more
than one word answers…
“May I help you?” she prodded when he didn’t go on.
Another long pause, then came the abrupt questions: “I heard you have therapy horses?
And ponies?”
Luz hesitated. Sometimes children from a group foster home came out to ride, and occasionally
a counselor who worked with troubled children recommended exposing them to riding.
But therapy? She wouldn’t go that far.
“We have horses and ponies,” she said carefully. “But who told you we have therapy
horses?”
“Esmeralda Salinas,” the voice said, no longer hesitant.
Luz wrinkled her nose, picturing the elegant redheaded school guidance counselor with
her neat suits and perpetual pep. Living in this tiny community, they’d crossed paths
several times. They didn’t much like each other, but Esmeralda loved horses. That
was usually a sterling quality, but this time, Luz’s main yardstick for measuring
“good folks” didn’t hold water, because the counselor struck her as conceited, plastic,
and sneaky. Although they avoided each other as much as possible, she boarded the
woman’s pricey Appaloosa. Undoubtedly Esmeralda would have liked finer stomping grounds
for the horse and herself, but no one else boarded horses in this arid, dying community.
Very few still owned livestock.
Nevertheless, Luz was surprised that the counselor had referred any male new to town.
The director of the children’s group home was an elderly woman, and the other referrals
were long-time residents, parents in established relationships, but Esmeralda sending
a guy her way? He was not single, then, apparently.