The Cowboy's Healing Ways (Cooper Creek) (2 page)

“Really?” Jesse smiled a little, the gesture shifting his features, warming the coolness in dark eyes that focused on Laura.

“I pulled right out in front of her. She drove her car off the side of the road to keep from hitting me.”

Laura closed her eyes, leaning her head against the wall behind her. A cool hand touched hers, moving the washcloth and touching the gash at her hairline.

“Let me see this.”

She opened her eyes and he was squatting in front of her, his expression intent as he studied the cut. He looked from the gash to her face. Laura swallowed as he continued to stare, and then he moved and stood back up, unfolding long legs with graceful ease. Laura clasped her hands to keep them from shaking.

A while ago there had been an earthquake in Oklahoma. Laura remembered when it happened and how for a few minutes everyone had wondered if they’d really felt the earth move or if it had been their imaginations. She was pretty sure it had just happened again. The earth had moved, shifting precariously as a hand touched her face and dark eyes studied her intently, with a strange mixture of curiosity, surprise and something else.

“Let’s get you in the kitchen where I can get a better look.” Jesse held out his hand. “Can you tell me your full name?”

“Laura Alice White.” She put her hand in his and he pulled her to her feet.

“What day is it?”

“Friday.”

“And where were you heading on a night like tonight?”

She hesitated and didn’t look at him. “I was going to rob a bank.”

“Too bad. Dawson doesn’t have a bank.” He smiled a little and steadied her with a hand on her back.

“I was going to visit my aunt.” Laura closed her eyes as another wave of nausea hit.

“Are you sick?” He stopped walking. “Dizzy?”

“Everything aches.”

“Who is your aunt?”

“Sally White.”

“You know she’s in the nursing home, right?”

“Your grandmother told me.”

“You didn’t know?” He glanced down at her, dark hair and tired-looking dark eyes. She looked away because she had blood dripping down her face, smelly breath and a prison record. Sounded like three strikes to her.

They entered a long, narrow kitchen. The cabinets were dark cherry, and the countertops were black granite. It was warm and welcoming. He grabbed a stool shoved into a corner by the fridge and placed it in the center of the room. Myrna flipped on the overhead lights. Laura blinked to clear her vision as she adjusted to the glare.

“Why wouldn’t you know that your aunt is in the nursing home?” he asked as he looked her over, cleaning the cut on her forehead and placing a bandage on it.

Laura started to give a nonanswer but Myrna stepped forward, her lips pursed. “Jesse Alvarez Cooper, watch your manners.”

“Sorry, Gran.” His long fingers touched Laura’s chin and he tilted her face. She tried to turn away but he held her steady with his left hand and with his right he flashed a light at her eyes.

No matter what, she wouldn’t let him see her cry.

* * *

Jesse finished examining the woman sitting in his grandmother’s kitchen and then put his medical bag on the counter. He tried to pretend he hadn’t seen the glimmer of tears in her eyes. He’d never been good at ignoring a woman’s tears.

He sighed and turned to face the other problem at hand. His grandmother. The fact that she had caused this accident troubled him. There were definitely a few missing pieces to the puzzle.

“Gran, what were you doing out so late on a night that isn’t fit for dogs?”

She tossed him a “mind your own business” look. For the first time he noticed that she was wearing a pink skirt and jacket, not her typical jeans and T-shirt.

“You’re not here about me. I’m fine. What do you think about Laura? Should she go to the hospital?” She leaned in close to study Laura White, conveniently avoiding his question. “Maybe she needs a CAT scan.”

“I don’t think so, Gran.”

He switched his attention from his grandmother to the woman still sitting on the stool. She trembled and bit down on a quivering bottom lip. He didn’t think she had serious injuries; more than likely it was a virus coupled with the shock of the accident and a few bumps and bruises.

Like his grandmother, she’d been out pretty late, driving in a serious storm. He wondered why it had been so important for her to get to her aunt’s house, an aunt she obviously hadn’t seen in years.

“Should we take her to the hospital, just to make sure nothing is broken?” Granny Myrna wrapped an arm around the woman and held her close, as if she were a long-lost child.

He loved that about his grandmother. The Coopers were the most loving, accepting bunch of people in the state, as far as he was concerned. He’d spent the first years of his life in South America trying to survive before they’d brought him here to be a part of their family.

“Nothing is broken. I took her temperature and I have a feeling the nausea and body aches have more to do with a virus than the accident.”

Laura shivered and he studied her face, pale with big gray eyes. She had long auburn hair that curled down her back. Her clothes were decent but worn, and she was thin, too thin.

“I need to get my car.” She shivered again. He looked at his grandmother. She was already scurrying away, probably to get a blanket.

“Even if your car will run, where do you think you’ll go?”

“I’m not sure. Back to Tulsa, I guess.” Her voice was soft, almost sweet.

“You have a home there?”

She looked at him, gray eyes misty, and she didn’t answer.

His grandmother rushed back into the room, an afghan in her hands. She draped it around her guest’s shoulders. “She’s staying right here.”

“Gran.”

She shushed him. “Jesse, I’m a big girl and I have a duty to take care of this young woman. I could be in the morgue right now if she hadn’t run off the road to keep from hitting me.”

She might have a point, but that didn’t mean she should put herself in harm’s way, taking in a stranger. “Gran, really.”

Laura White touched his grandmother’s arm. “What your grandson is trying to say is that taking in a stranger is dangerous. Mrs. Cooper, you shouldn’t. You don’t know me from anyone.”

Jesse’s grandmother looked closely at her. “I’m knocking on the door of eighty-five and I know a good girl when I see one. You’ve had a few setbacks, but I see goodness in your eyes.”

“I’m not going to argue because I won’t win.” Jesse walked over to the sink to wash his hands.

Behind him his grandmother and Laura White were having a discussion about Laura staying. He knew how this would go. He squirted dish soap in his palm, lathered up and rinsed under the hot tap water. The towel hanging over the door of the cabinet was damp. He found a clean one in the drawer.

“Is there a hotel in Dawson?” Laura asked as he turned back around. His grandmother shot him a look.

Jesse shook his head. “Nope.”

She started to stand but wobbled, and he caught hold of her arm. He eased her back on the stool and placed his wrist on the back of her neck. Her fever had spiked. He grabbed the thermometer out of his bag and pushed the thick strands of auburn hair behind her ear to slide the thermometer in. She closed her eyes, opening them when he moved his hand and withdrew the thermometer.

He shook his head. “You need to be in bed.”

His grandmother smiled big because she knew she’d won the argument. He had to smile, too, because his granny Myrna loved a new project and he could tell she didn’t plan on letting this one slip out the door. His grandmother was dead set on fixing the person who had crashed into her life.

“Let me get the spare room ready and then you can help her upstairs.”

“Sure thing, Gran.” He watched his grandmother, still spry in her eighties, hurry out of the kitchen. He heard her singing as she headed upstairs to ready the guestroom.

“I really can go.”

“No, you’ll stay. Your car is being towed to the garage. Besides, my grandmother is a determined lady.” He helped her up. “But don’t hurt her.”

“I’m not going to hurt her. I just wanted to get to my aunt’s house tonight.”

“I take it you’re not close to your aunt.”

“We lost contact after my father died.”

He held her steady and they walked through the living room to the stairs. “And you decided to visit tonight?”

She sighed, stopping at the foot of the stairs.

“There was a rift when my mother remarried. I thought maybe if I came here...” She shrugged. “I need a place to start over. I need a job and a place to live.”

“Dawson is a good place to start over, but there aren’t too many jobs.”

She shivered in his arms and he pulled the afghan closer around her shoulders. Years ago he would have loved having a woman like her in his arms. He had to admit, it still wasn’t the worst feeling in the world.

These days he leaned toward caution because he had learned the hard way that people in a relationship weren’t always feeling the same thing. Some people fell hard and fast while the other person sometimes didn’t fall at all.

They started up the stairs, making it halfway before she paused to rest, a weak kitten, holding the rail.

“Are you going to make it?” He touched her back, holding her steady.

“Of course.” She wavered again, turned to look at him and then down she went. Jesse scooped her in his arms, carrying her up the remaining stairs and down the hall to the door where his grandmother waited.

“Is she okay?”

“She will be. I think it would help if we got some food in her.” She was light in his arms.

“I’ll go heat up a can of soup.” His grandmother pulled back the blankets and he placed her guest in the bed, backing away to let his grandmother continue fussing.

“I’ll make the soup.” He kissed his grandmother’s cheek. “You get her settled.”

Jesse walked down the stairs and back to the kitchen where he found Laura White’s purse still hanging on the stool. He picked up the leather bag with frayed seams and thought about snooping. After a minute he listened to his better self and set the bag down on the counter.

He wouldn’t snoop, but he’d stay and make sure his grandmother remained safe. And he’d make sure Laura White recovered.

After that, he’d let his grandmother take over. She was good with projects. His plate, however, was pretty full.

Chapter Two

M
orning sun soaked the room in bright light and warmth. The rain had ended. Laura stretched in the softest bed she had ever slept in, but her relief didn’t last. Her head ached and she felt as if lead weights had been placed in her arms and legs. She rolled over and squinted to look at the clock.

She was in Myrna Cooper’s home. She had made it to Dawson. But now what? She had nowhere to go. She had no money and no real friends.

Dressed in the same clothes she’d worn the day before, she tried to run her fingers through her hair and make herself presentable. Her suitcase was in the trunk of her car, wherever that happened to be. She shivered and reached for the afghan that Myrna had draped over her shoulders the night before. Light-headed and achy, she walked down the hall to the wide stairs.

As she walked through the living room a quilt-covered lump on the couch moved. She paused as he rolled over, flopping an arm over his face. He had stayed. Not because he wanted to make sure she was okay, but because he’d been worried about leaving his grandmother alone with her.

Laura didn’t blame him. Instead she liked that he was the kind of person who would stay, spending the night on an old Victorian sofa just to make sure his grandmother was safe.

The aroma from the kitchen pulled her away from the good doctor and back to her goal. Food. She could smell coffee and bacon. As she walked through the door, Myrna turned, smiling. She flipped a pancake and pointed to the coffeepot.

“Help yourself to coffee and the pancakes will be done shortly.”

“Thank you.” Laura turned and coughed. “Is there anything I can do?”

“I’ve got it handled. How are you feeling this morning?”

“About the same.” Her body still ached, and her throat burned. She was looking forward to the coffee. “I should make arrangements, though. To go somewhere.”

She needed a plan and she didn’t have one. This had been it for her. This had been her last resort.

“You’ll do no such thing.” Myrna handed her a plate of pancakes. “Sit down and eat.”

She took the plate, her hands trembling as she moved to the counter. She spread butter and then poured syrup across the golden-brown cakes. Her mouth watered as she thought about the last time she’d had pancakes, good pancakes.

From the living room she heard shuffling, mumbling and then footsteps. Myrna shook her head and then poured more batter on the griddle. A moment later Jesse walked through the door, disapproving but gorgeous with his chocolate-brown eyes still sleepy, and shadowy whiskers covering his lean cheeks. His straight, dark hair went in all directions, and he must have known because he was trying to brush it down with his fingers.

Laura took a bite of pancake and looked away from the barefoot cowboy in his faded jeans and flannel shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbows. She glanced quickly at her faded jeans and fuzzy sweater, both from a decade or two past, trying hard not to make comparisons.

“How are you this morning?” He walked straight to the coffeepot and grabbed a mug from the cabinet. He looked at her and pulled out another one. “Want coffee?”

“Please.” She glanced in Myrna’s direction. Myrna flipped another pancake on the platter and then scooped bacon out of a skillet.

Jesse turned from the coffeepot. He set a cup of coffee on the counter next to her. “You can sit in the dining room.”

“I’m good.”

He shrugged one shoulder and turned away from her. With an ease that she envied he walked up behind his grandmother, gave her a loose hug and pulled a plate from the holder on the counter.

“Do you have anywhere to go?” He leaned against the counter, watching her.

She swallowed a syrupy bite and shook her head. No time like the present to just get it all out there. She wouldn’t hide her story or her life from them, not after they’d been so kind. Well, Myrna had been kind. Jesse... She watched as he poured syrup over the stack of pancakes on his plate. He didn’t look at her.