The Cowboy′s Healing Ways

The Cowboy's Healing Ways
Brenda Minton
SEPARATED FROM HER CHILDAfter being wrongfully convicted of a crime and losing custody of her daughter, all single mother Laura White wants is her little girl back. But she’ll need a job and a real home first. When Dr. Jesse Alvarez Cooper hires her as housekeeper at his Oklahoma ranch, Laura is grateful.The handsome cowboy doctor, with a harrowing past that stretches continents, also vows to help her get her child back. Suddenly, Laura’s dreams may come true—two permanent place settings added around the Cooper family table.Cooper Creek: Home is where the heart is for this Oklahoma family


Separated From Her Child
After being wrongfully convicted of a crime and losing custody of her daughter, all single mother Laura White wants is her little girl back. But she’ll need a job and a real home first. When Dr. Jesse Alvarez Cooper hires her as housekeeper at his Oklahoma ranch, Laura is grateful. The handsome cowboy doctor, with a harrowing past that stretches continents, also vows to help her get her child back. Suddenly, Laura’s dreams may come true—two permanent place settings added around the Cooper family table.
A hand touched her shoulder.
Laura couldn’t turn to look at the person behind her. She knew it was Jesse Cooper. She knew that hand, the touch. Firm but comforting, in a detached way.
“You okay?” he asked.
She nodded and swallowed the pain, the truth. “I’m good.”
“I think you probably aren’t.”
He wouldn’t ask who she’d been on the phone with. She turned, swiping at her eyes and managing a wavering smile to prove it didn’t hurt.
“I was talking to my little girl.”
“You have a child?” His eyes narrowed but continued to focus on her face, continued to be kind.
“Yes, I have a daughter. They put her in foster care. I can have her back once I have a job, a place to live and once I prove that I’m clean. Which is rather ironic, since I’ve never done drugs.”
It registered, the truth. She saw it in his eyes and then he nodded.
And for some crazy reason, she felt relief flood her because he believed her.
BRENDA MINTON
started creating stories to entertain herself during hour-long rides on the school bus. In high school, she wrote romance novels to entertain her friends. The dream grew and so did her aspirations to become an author. She started with notebooks, handwritten manuscripts and characters that refused to go away until their stories were told. Eventually she put away the pen and paper and got down to business with the computer. The journey took a few years, with some encouragement and rejection along the way—as well as a lot of stubbornness on her part. In 2006, her dream to write for Love Inspired Books came true. Brenda lives in the rural Ozarks with her husband, three kids and an abundance of cats and dogs. She enjoys a chaotic life that she wouldn’t trade for anything—except, on occasion, a beach house in Texas. You can stop by and visit at her website, www.brendaminton.net.
The Cowboy's Healing Ways
Brenda Minton



www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.
— Hebrews 11:1
This book is dedicated to my kids
because they always make me laugh.
To Janet Benrey. Our last book as agent and author! Thank you for standing by me
and for giving me a chance.
To Rick (king of the pinewood derby) and Darla. Thank you for everything,
even for getting me on that plane.
To Stephanie and Shirlee
for keeping me something close to sane.
I love you both.
Contents
Chapter One (#u9e36c35d-ba22-519f-bf64-8e554b936e77)
Chapter Two (#uabd7f6c0-cc9f-5f19-b5f8-693105312c70)
Chapter Three (#uff59c9a3-80fc-5d16-91a1-a3d5a7dd1792)
Chapter Four (#u366d765b-b296-5846-a468-de88b7c8acb0)
Chapter Five (#u9ead42de-81ad-50f6-9667-030037aebcbd)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo)
Questions For Discussion (#litres_trial_promo)
Excerpt (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One
Rain pelted the windshield of Laura White’s car and the wipers worked hard to keep up, making a horrible scraping sound with each swish. Laura leaned in, trying to see the road. This had been going on since shortly after she left Tulsa, and in the past ten minutes it had gotten worse.
She glanced at the clock on the dash. Almost 10:00 p.m. Her head ached from straining to see the dark, rain-soaked highway. Hopefully her aunt Sally wouldn’t mind the unannounced visit from a niece she hadn’t seen in a dozen years. Laura didn’t want to think ahead to what she would do if her aunt turned her away.
Ahead of her, headlights flashed, the beams catching on the sheets of rain. Laura slowed, trying to adjust to the dark, the lack of visibility. She reached to turn the defrost on High and the headlights became a car. The big sedan pulled out of a side road, right in the path of Laura’s car. She opened her mouth to scream but the sound choked and wouldn’t come out.
The car loomed large in front of her, her own headlights catching the expression on the face of the woman behind the wheel. Laura yanked the steering wheel to the right and sent her car off the side of the road, bouncing as it hit the ditch. Laura hit the brakes and held tight to the wheel as the car tilted. The fence flew at her window, the barbed wire sliding across the glass. Finally she came to a bone-jarring halt, slamming her head against the steering wheel.
Laura groaned and leaned back. Eyes closed, she focused on breathing, on getting her head clear. After a few minutes she unbuckled her seat belt. Nothing seemed to be broken. She reached for the door handle and gave it a good shove. It creaked open and she turned to get out. A woman stood next to her car.
“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you coming.” The woman, older, with gray hair peeking out from under a rain bonnet, reached for Laura’s hand. “Maybe you should sit there for a minute.”
“No, I’m good. I just wanted to see if my car is tangled on anything or if my tires are flat.”
“In this weather? Come on, let’s go to my car and we’ll call the police and have them get a wrecker out here.”
“No, let me just get my bearings and I’ll figure out how to get my car out. I don’t have far to go.”
“You can’t drive that car. Goodness.” The woman still held her hand. She gave a pull and helped Laura to her feet. The rain poured down, drenching them in no time flat. “Let me call my grandson. We’ll get this car out of here, get the fence repaired and make sure you’re okay.”
“I’m really fine. I’m going to my aunt’s in Dawson. I should be close.”
Arm in arm they trudged up the embankment to the car idling on the shoulder of the road. The woman opened the door for Laura and helped her in. A moment later she got in on the driver’s side.
Laura leaned back into the soft leather and shivered as the heat from the car hit her. Her head ached. She touched her forehead and her fingers came away with blood.
“Here, let me.” The woman handed her a pretty handkerchief.
“I can’t use this.”
“I have plenty and that’s a nasty gash.” She tsk’d a few times. “My name is Myrna Cooper and I am just so sorry that I wasn’t paying better attention. Did you tell me your name?”
“Laura White. And really, it was just an accident.”
Myrna already had her phone to her ear, nodding as she talked. She patted Laura’s leg. A moment later she slipped the phone back in her purse. “My grandson is going to tow the car and fix the fence. I’ll take you on home with me.”
“If you want, you could drop me at my aunt’s.”
Myrna shifted into gear and pulled onto the road. “Of course, but first I want a doctor to look at that cut on your head.”
“I’m really okay.” And losing ground fast. Laura leaned back, holding the handkerchief to her head and fighting a wave of nausea that came out of nowhere.
“Now, who is your aunt?”
“Sally White.”
“Oh.” Myrna Cooper nodded and then repeated, “Oh.”
“Is something wrong?”
“Honey, has it been a while since you saw Sally?”
“Yes. After my father passed away, we lost touch.”
“Laura, your aunt Sally is in a nursing home. She has Alzheimer’s.”
Laura closed her eyes. Every bone in her body ached and the nausea rolled through her stomach and up into her throat. She wanted to cry. For the first time in a long time, she wanted to give up. She’d been strong through everything, but this might be the last straw. She’d wondered what a last straw felt like.
It felt like falling.
It felt a lot like never having anyone to lean on. When was the last time someone had been there for her? Who was the last person she’d turned to for help? There hadn’t been anyone in years and she had hoped Aunt Sally...
A hand touched her arm. “Now, don’t you worry. Sally happens to be a friend of mine and any niece of hers has a place with me. Not only that—I do kind of owe you.”
Laura wanted to shake her head, but it hurt to move.
“Laura, honey, hang in there. We’re almost to my house.”
As they pulled up the drive to a garage, Laura threw her door open and emptied the contents of her stomach, which wasn’t all that much since she hadn’t eaten dinner. A hand touched her back. Myrna spoke in soft, mothering tones. Laura closed her eyes at the sting of tears. She hadn’t been mothered in years. At twenty-eight, she should really be past this.
“Let’s see if we can get you inside.” Myrna parked the car and a moment later she stood on the passenger side, a hand held out. “Let’s go. And I promise, this isn’t the end of the world.”
“I think it might be.” Laura got out of the car.
A truck pulled into the drive as they walked up the sidewalk to the front porch that wrapped around two sides of what would probably be a beautiful home in the daylight. On a dark, stormy night, it loomed large and rambling, a few lights glowing in the many windows.
The truck stopped behind Myrna’s car.
“That would be my grandson, Dr. Jesse Cooper. He’ll have you fixed up in no time.” Myrna unlocked the door and pushed it open. “Go on in.”
Laura stepped into the house, her vision blurring with tears and pain. A little bench in the entry was as far as she could make it on legs that shook. Myrna walked around the living room, turning on lights, talking sweetly to a couple of little white and yappy balls of fluff.
The door opened, bringing cool air and a few stray drops of rain. The wind had picked up, blowing the rain at a slanting angle. The man in the doorway slipped off boots and hung a cowboy hat on a hook by the door. She watched as he shrugged out of his jacket and hung it next to his hat.
When he turned she blinked a few times and stared up at a man with lean, handsome features and dark hair that brushed his collar. He looked as comfortable in this big house as he did in his worn jeans and flannel shirt. His dark eyes studied her with curious suspicion. She’d gotten used to that look. She’d gotten used to people staring, wondering, whispering behind their hands as she walked past.
But second chances and starting over meant wanting something new, a new reaction when people met her. She wanted to be the person people welcomed into their lives. She wanted to be the woman a man took a second look at, maybe a third, and not a suspicious look.
Jesse Cooper took a second look, but it was full of suspicion.
“Jesse, I’m so glad you’re here.” Myrna had returned with a cold washcloth that she placed on Laura’s forehead, holding it tight as she talked to her grandson. “It seems I had an accident.”
“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
Morning 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.
Jesse had been kind, too.
“I don’t have anywhere to go.” She sighed and pushed the plate away, unable to eat the last few bites. A place to go, a job, she needed those things. Had to have them in order to fix her life.
The headache she had thought gone returned with a vengeance, pounding behind her eyes and in the back of her head. She rubbed her forehead.
“I had hoped Aunt Sally would give me a place to stay until I could get back on my feet.”
As she’d talked, Jesse opened a cabinet door and pulled out a bottle of pills. He shook a couple into his hand and handed them to her. Laura took them, smiling her gratitude and washing the medicine down with her coffee.
“Well, now, honey, why don’t you tell us what knocked you off your feet?” Myrna turned from the stove, wiping her hands on the corner of her apron. “And we’ll see if we can’t make a plan. Sometimes everything looks dark because we haven’t had friends to help us put our situation in a better light.”
“I’ve been living in a halfway house for the past month.”
“And before that?” Jesse asked as he leaned against the counter, his plate in his hands.
“Before that I was in jail.”
“Jail?” Myrna’s eyes understandably widened and she glanced from Laura to Jesse. Of course he had an “I told you so” look on his face. His dark brows arched and he frowned.
Laura scraped her plate in the sink and turned on the water and then the garbage disposal. She gave it a few seconds and flipped the switch off. That gave her a little time to gather her thoughts and prepare herself.
How much did she tell? Did she tell the truth or the court’s version of the truth? A jury hadn’t believed her, so why should anyone else? Evidence, beyond a shadow of a doubt, pointed to her guilt.
“I was in jail on a drug-dealing and possession charge.” She looked away. She wanted to pretend this wasn’t her life and that people didn’t look at her with surprise, disgust and every other emotion she’d seen in the past month.
From now on this would be her story.
“You sold drugs?” Myrna scoffed and shook her head. “Now, I might be old, but I’m not naive. I’m having a hard time picturing you selling poison.”
Laura raised her chin a notch and blinked back the sting of tears the well-meaning words brought to her eyes. Myrna Cooper clearly wasn’t like everyone else. She was a tall woman with every gray hair in place. This morning she’d donned jeans and a sweatshirt, not the pretty pastel suit she’d worn the previous evening.
Laura wanted to think of everything but the three months she’d spent in jail. She could still hear the clank of metal doors. She could still imagine herself surrounded by gray and steel. Three months of being alone and trying to tell herself she’d survive. And she had. Somehow she’d survived.
“Laura?” Myrna stepped to her side and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.
A quick glance in Jesse Cooper’s direction and Laura knew he had no intention of giving her a pass. His brown eyes were no longer sleepy or soft. She had never wanted this to be her life. He’d obviously grown up here, in a safe and loving family. He had no idea.
The “ifs” would drive her crazy. If her mother hadn’t died. If her stepfather hadn’t been abusive. If she hadn’t let her stepbrother stay in her apartment when he showed up six months ago. That decision had cost her her freedom, her good reputation, her job and her apartment.
Because no one believed her when she said her brother had put the drugs and the money in her purse as she got pulled over that day. He’d bailed on her, running down a side street and disappearing. She’d reached into her purse to grab the bag and the police had caught her as they walked up to her car. More drugs had been found in her apartment.
“I need to go now.” She slid past Myrna Cooper.
“Wait a second, young lady.” Myrna’s voice held a commanding tone that Laura couldn’t ignore. She turned, her vision swimming. She leaned against the wall and waited.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Cooper. You’ve been very kind to me. Now I need to go.”
“Your car is at the local garage, so you really can’t go anywhere unless you plan on walking.” Myrna sighed. “Tell me what happened.”
“I was convicted of felony possession and distribution. There’s really nothing more to tell.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“It’s the finding of the court and the ruling stands.” Laura stood, holding the back of the stool. “I really need to get my car.”
“I think you need to sit back down.” Jesse moved away from the counter he’d been leaning on. He moved with power and ease, and she felt very weak and small.
“Laura, sit down.”
She nodded and did as he commanded. “I should have called before coming to Dawson.”
“Well, I for one am glad God put me in your path last night.” Myrna hugged her tightly. “We’ll figure this out.”
“No, I really should go.” Laura glanced at Jesse and then back to Myrna. “I should go because having me here is the last thing you need.”
“Jesse, you’re the doctor—tell her she can’t leave in this condition.”
Jesse smiled and shook his head. “I’m not getting in the middle of this argument. Gran, you’re right—she needs to rest. Laura, you have to do what you think is best. My opinion probably won’t count for much.”
Laura folded the afghan and placed it on the stool. “Myrna, thank you for everything.”
“Where do you think you’ll go?” Myrna asked.
“I’ll find a place.” Laura wanted to hug the older woman, but she couldn’t. She thought she’d fall apart if Myrna comforted her in any way.
It had been too long since anyone in her life had cared. She picked up her purse and stood for a moment in front of Myrna, wishing she’d had someone like this woman.
“I don’t like this, not one bit.” Myrna shook her head, looking from Laura to Jesse.
“Thank you for letting me stay the night.” Laura turned away and headed for the front door, walking fast and blinking furiously to clear her vision.
* * *
As Laura left, Jesse hugged his grandmother, the sweetest woman he knew. She stood stiff in his arms, her mouth in a tight and unhappy line.
“Gran, we don’t know her. You don’t know the whole story.”
“She told us the whole story and I know her aunt. Jesse, people have stories. That doesn’t mean they are stuck in that story. People make mistakes. They do what they have to in the situations they’re in. Now, how can we call ourselves Christians if we aren’t willing to give someone a second chance? You’ve had second chances.”
“What do you want me to do?”
His grandmother’s eyes filled with tears. “She needs help and a place to stay.”
“I can get her a room in Grove and then we’ll see if we can get her some assistance. You’re right—no one knows better than I do about second chances. The other thing I know is how dangerous the drug trade can be. People get angry. They get revenge.”
The front door clicked, ending their conversation.
“Go after her, Jesse.” His grandmother put a hand on his back, moving him forward.
“I have to get my shoes.”
“Well, you’d better hurry. She’s sick with nowhere to go. If something happens to her...” His grandmother’s face paled and she shook her head a little. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it.” He slid his feet into his boots and grabbed his jacket. “I won’t let anything happen to her. I’m also not letting anything happen to you.”
He hurried out the door, putting his coat on as he went. Laura White stood at the end of the drive, a tall woman with auburn hair blowing in the light breeze. She shivered and hugged herself tightly, turning to look at him with a wan smile on her pale face.
Okay, he wouldn’t get the Samaritan of the Year award. But what in the world was he supposed to do with her? He walked to the end of the drive, thinking through options and not coming up with much. He guessed he could take her to his parents.
As he approached, Laura’s chin came up a notch, a little pride coming to the surface. He remembered being a kid, digging deep to find that pride to get past his own humiliation. He knew what it took for a person to find that strength.
“I can walk. I’m just not sure where I’m going or how I’ll get my car. I can’t afford to pay for repairs.” She turned, coughing into her shoulder before facing him again. The cold weather made her nose red and her gray eyes sparkle. “I don’t have insurance.”
“I’m sure Gran is going to pay for the repairs. She did pull out in front of you.”
“She didn’t see me. The rain was unbelievable.”
“She really wants you to stay here.”
Laura shook her head. “I can’t.”
“Then I’ll drive you to Grove. We’ll get you a hotel room and find some way to help you get back on your feet.”
She looked past him, her eyes damp with unshed tears. “You really don’t have to do this. I can get a ride.”
“No, you’re not okay. You’re sick. It looks like we’re going to get more rain and you have nowhere to go.” Jesse adjusted the hat he’d put on before walking outside. “I’m going to be honest. I’m not crazy about my grandmother bringing in strangers. But I’m also not about to let you walk off without help.”
She shivered. Jesse shrugged out of his jacket. He draped it across her shoulders and she huddled into it.
“Let’s get in my truck before the rain hits.” He put a hand on her arm and steered her in the right direction.
When they reached the passenger side of his truck she turned away from him, coughing again. The cough racked her thin body and when the spell ended she leaned against his truck, breathing deeply to catch her breath.
“You okay?”
“I’m good.” She turned, smiling, her face pale and her eyes huge but rimmed with dark circles.
“Right.” He opened the door and she climbed in. “When we get to town we’ll stop at the store for some cough syrup and maybe herbal tea.”
“You don’t have to.” She clicked the seat belt in place. “Look, you can stop pretending you’re my appointed keeper. I don’t need one. I’m good on my own. I’ve been on my own for a long time.”
“I’m not pretending anything. I’m just trying to help you.” He started the truck and shifted into Reverse, glancing into the rearview mirror as he backed down the driveway. “I’m trying to make sure you’re going to be okay.”
“I’m trying to let you off the hook.” She closed her eyes and his big coat enveloped her. “I’m so tired.”
“I know you are. On both counts.” He drove through Dawson and headed toward Grove. “You don’t have to let me off the hook.”
He glanced her way and then turned his attention back to the road. “Do you have job experience?”
“Yes.”
“And?” He drove out of Dawson, wondering if she was being purposely vague.
“I worked in an office and then as a manager for a cleaning crew. I was going to school to be a nurse.”
“Hmm.” He didn’t know what else to say. It seemed like a lot to throw away.
“Now I’m a felon and no one will hire me. I can’t even rent an apartment.”
“There has to be somewhere you can go.”
She sighed. “In a perfect world there would be justice and I would get a do-over.”
“There are those things—sometimes they’re just hard to find.”
She nodded but didn’t respond. He found himself wanting to know a whole lot more about her than she seemed willing to tell. The curiosity grew when she reached into the side pocket of her purse and pulled out a tiny framed photo. She held it tightly and closed her eyes.
Everyone had a story, his grandmother liked to remind him. They all had things they wished they could do over. He would have been more careful with other people’s feelings.
When they reached Grove, he pulled up to the grocery store. “Let’s run in here and we’ll get what you’ll need for a few days.”
She didn’t answer. He leaned to touch her shoulder. She opened her eyes wide and moved back a little.
“I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m going in. You stay here and rest.” He reached into the back seat of the truck and grabbed a blanket. “I’ll trade. Blanket for the jacket.”
She took off his canvas jacket and handed it to him. He draped the blanket over her. She smiled a weak smile.
“Back in a few.”
She nodded and he got out of the truck. As he crossed the parking lot he remembered that he’d left his keys in the ignition. He looked back and saw her in the passenger side, leaning against the door. Sleeping.
His truck would either be there when he came out, or it wouldn’t. He sighed and walked through the automatic doors of the store, shooting one last glance in the direction of his truck.
The things he let his grandmother get him into. He’d never learn.
* * *
Laura woke up in an empty truck parked in front of a grocery store. She remembered Jesse telling her he would be back soon. She glanced at her watch and pulled the phone out of her pocket.
She dialed the number she had memorized. This phone call was all she could have for the time being. It wasn’t enough, but it was better than nothing.
After a few rings a woman answered.
“Mrs. Duncan, this is Laura White.” She coughed a little and then cleared her throat. “I’m so sorry.”
“Laura, you sound terrible. Are you okay?”
“I think I have the flu, but I’m good. Things are good.” She hated the lie, but she couldn’t admit that her life was falling apart. She wasn’t even close to where she needed to be.
“Did you find a place in Dawson?” Mrs. Duncan hesitated, then cleared her throat. “Do you have a job?”
“Not yet.” She glanced out the window at the grocery store. “I’m getting a place to stay, but it isn’t permanent.”
“Oh, I had hoped this would work out for you.”
Laura closed her eyes. “Me, too.”
“Okay, let me get Abigail.”
And then there were shouts, laughter, her daughter. “Mommy.”
“Abigail, I miss you.” She swallowed the tight lump in her throat and fought the burning sting of tears.
“I miss you, too.”
“What have you been doing?” Laura closed her eyes, remembering her daughter’s face, how it felt to hold her. Abigail had dark brown hair and gray eyes. Laura held the memories tightly. “How’s school?”
“I made all As and Gina gave me money and we ate pizza. I made cookies last night with the other kids.”
Normal moments. A normal life. Her daughter should always have those things. “That sounds like fun. And I’m proud of you.”
“I’m proud of you, too, Mommy. Okay, I have to go. When do I get to see you?”
“Soon. Very soon.” Promises she hoped she could keep.
“I pray for you, Mommy.”
Laura nodded and her throat ached. “I know. Me, too, sugarplum. Bye.” She whispered the words as her daughter rushed through another “I love you” and hung up.
She cried. Holding the school picture she kept in her purse, she cried. Abigail prayed for her. She thought back to childhood stories of faith and God. She hadn’t thought much about either since her mother died. Her stepfather had been abusive and Laura had left and taken to the streets, believing life on her own had to be better than under his control.
A string of boyfriends, a marriage that hadn’t lasted long enough to change anything, a stepbrother who put her in prison and now this. She’d had plans and dreams for her life. She’d wanted more than this, more than barely getting by. She’d wanted more for Abigail. She still wanted more for her daughter.
She shivered in the cool truck and closed her eyes against the bright sky. Nothing was the way she’d planned. She’d really thought her aunt Sally, a woman she remembered from childhood, would be here to help pick up the pieces of her life, to help her believe again. She’d prayed that she would find something here, a way to get Abigail back.
Instead she had the kindness of a stranger and little more than she’d had the day before. She rested her forehead against the cool glass of the window and thought through the list of things she had lost. She used to believe in people. She used to believe in herself. A long time ago she’d had faith.
She closed her eyes and prayed to get all three back. She had never been a quitter. She wouldn’t quit now, not on life or herself. She wouldn’t quit because of Abigail.
Chapter Three
Jesse walked across the parking lot and watched as the woman in the passenger seat of his truck wiped at tears streaming down her cheeks. He didn’t know how to help her. He shook his head and shifted the paper bag to his other arm. The last thing she needed from him was a promise he couldn’t keep. He knew he couldn’t fix her life.
He walked up to the passenger side of his truck and peeked in. Laura didn’t look up. In her hand she held a school photo of a little girl. He stepped away from the window and walked to the back of the truck to store the groceries in the metal toolbox in the bed of the truck. When he opened the door, Laura wiped the last of her tears. She smiled at him, a watery smile.
“How do you feel?” He shifted into Reverse and then looked her way for a quick moment.
“A little better.”
“I bought cold medicine.” He didn’t know what else to say. “Who’s the little girl in the picture?”
She closed her eyes and shrugged. When she looked at him, the pain in her gray eyes was tangible. He drew in a quick breath before he looked away, focusing on the road.
“She’s my daughter.”
The words hit him hard. He shook his head and kept driving.
“Where is she?” None of his business, but he had to ask.
“They took her. When I was in jail. Of course they took her.” She sniffed and when he looked, her face was buried in her hands, auburn hair falling forward. “She’s in a foster home.”
“You’ll get her back?”
She pushed her hair back with pale hands that trembled and nodded as she looked at him.
“Yes. When I get a job and a permanent home. I didn’t think it would be this hard. Trying to get her back. Trying to find a normal life again.”
“It isn’t easy.”
“No, it isn’t. Someone else is taking her for pizza, praying with her, tucking her in. It should be me. If I hadn’t let my stepbrother...” She shook her head. “I have to stop blaming him. I let him move in. I knew it would be a mistake, but I felt sorry for him.”
He nodded and kept driving.
Laura continued to talk. “Which is why I don’t blame you for not wanting me in your grandmother’s house. You don’t know me. You don’t know what I’ve done, what is or isn’t true. People lie.”
“Sometimes we have to trust people.” He cleared his throat and looked at her. “Sometimes we have to give them a chance to prove they can be trusted.”
He pulled into the parking lot of a motel with a sign that said they rented by the day, week or month.
“Sometimes,” she said in a soft voice that told him trust was hard for her.
He parked, sighing because he couldn’t leave her here. She had a daughter she didn’t want to let go of. She had gray eyes that didn’t beg him to give her a chance but begged him to trust her. Believe her.
“I could use someone to help me at my place,” he said as he stared at the little motel that had been around longer than either of them had been alive. He switched his attention to look at the woman sitting next to him.
“I’m not looking for a handout. I need a job. I’m willing to work.”
“It isn’t a handout.” He turned in his seat to face her. “I work odd hours and sometimes take shifts at a hospital in Tulsa. I’m also the doctor on call for the local residential care facility. On top of that I might be going out of the country.”
“A vacation?”
“No, I’m thinking about going to the mission field, to Honduras.”
“For how long?”
“A year.”
She nodded. “And so the job would be?”
“I have a small house on my place at the lake. You could have that home and a small salary. In return, I could use a housekeeper and if you aren’t afraid of horses, someone to feed my livestock when I’m not there.”
“A job and a house.” Her voice tightened with emotion. “But do you really want me on your property? I’m a convicted felon.”
“Tell me your side of the story and I’ll decide.”
“I didn’t know that my stepbrother was a drug dealer. He used my apartment that last day to make meth while I was gone. The police had been watching him and they thought I was involved. Ryan jumped out of my car and they never caught him. I got busted with meth, some prescription drugs and the money. I was just naive when it came to Ryan. I saw him the way I saw myself—as a victim of our childhood.” She shrugged thin shoulders. “I wanted to fix him.”
As she finished he nodded. “I believe you.”
She nodded and looked away, her hand coming up to swipe at tears. “That’s good to know.”
“This will be good for both of us. I need a housekeeper and you need a home.”
“Why haven’t you hired someone? There would have to be any number of people who would want a position like the one you’re offering me.”
“I interviewed a few people but most of them know my family. The older women feel as if they have to mother me and watch over me.” And the younger women wanted a husband.
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Will you take the job?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
The battle with her tears was lost. She swiped at her eyes but tears streamed down her cheeks. Jesse found a napkin in the console between the seats and handed it to her. The most impulsive decision he’d made in years was sitting next to him crying, and he couldn’t take back the offer. Not when a child was involved. Because Laura was a mom who wanted to keep her little girl.
Jesse started his truck and pulled out of the parking lot of the motel. He told himself he’d done the right thing. He’d let her clean his house. He’d provide her a home. No strings, no attachments. Easy.
* * *
Laura wiped her eyes and tried to think through what had just happened. Too good to be true? In her life strings always seemed to be attached. She couldn’t remember the last time anyone had done anything for her that didn’t require something back.
She closed her eyes tight and tried to think, which was hard to do in her present condition. First, she had to consider Abigail—not just getting her back, but keeping her safe. She had so much at stake. She couldn’t take chances, not with her future or her daughter’s.
With a sigh she faced the man who had offered her the opportunity of a lifetime. “Why would you do this for me?”
He shrugged and pulled out on the road. The truck eased through the traffic and he didn’t answer for a few minutes.
“Because you deserve a second chance.” He paused to make a left-hand turn. “I want to help you out because your little girl deserves to have you.”
“How do you know that?”
He looked at her for a brief second, then refocused on the road. “I’ve seen a lot in my life, Laura. I’ve seen the best and worst of humanity. I think I know when someone is decent and really needs a second chance.”
She knew there was more to his story. She saw it in the sometimes-lost look in his eyes, as if he might have been a little boy needing a mother. But she had to remind herself that he was a man, not a little boy anymore. And in her experiences with men, limited as they were, there were usually consequences.
“Where are we going?” She touched the phone in her pocket, reassured by its presence.
“If you want the job, I thought I’d take you out to the house.” He glanced her way again. “I think we’re both going to have to make a stab at trusting.”
She nodded, glancing out the window. They were close to Dawson when he turned down a paved road with signs giving directions to different points of interest. A few minutes later he turned into a driveway, hit a remote on the visor of this truck and the gates in front of them opened wide.
Laura shivered in the blanket wrapped around her shoulders and watched out the window. A few deer jumped from the woods and ran across the road in front of them. Her breath caught as she watched the creatures bound out of sight.
A few hundred more feet and the woods gave way to grass. And then a tiny house surrounded by a picket fence. Ahead she could see a small stable and barely could make out the exterior of a house surrounded by tall trees.
“This is the original house.” He pulled in the drive. “It isn’t much, but it’s in good shape, easy to heat and cool. Two bedrooms and it’s furnished.”
She swallowed the lump of fear that said this couldn’t be real. Things like this didn’t happen, not to her, not in this life. She remembered a prayer that God would help her find faith again—that He would provide a way for her to get Abigail back.
“We can go in.” Jesse pulled the keys from the ignition and he had his hand on the door.
Laura looked at him, at the house. She could trust him. He was Myrna Cooper’s grandson. He was a doctor. And she didn’t have a lot of options. She had to take this chance if she meant to get on her feet again.
She reminded herself that decent men existed. Laura barely remembered her real father, but he’d been one. He’d been kind, caring, always worried about his family. After he passed away, her life had been filled by men who were sad replacements. She’d known selfish men, abusive men, users.
“Are you okay?” He had opened his door but pulled it closed again. “Look, there are other options if you don’t think this is what you want.”
“I’m fine—just amazed and worried that I could never repay you.”
“It isn’t charity. You’re going to work for this.”
“You don’t understand. This means everything. I have a daughter who I haven’t been able to bring home with me for months.”
He smiled, the gesture settling in his chocolate-brown eyes. “Laura, I get it. Let’s go in and see if you’re going to be okay living here.”
Laura got out and met him at the front of the truck. The yard was pretty and neat. The leaves on the trees were budding and still the bright green of early spring. She walked through the gate and up the sidewalk to the front porch of the little white house with the green roof.
Jesse reached into his pocket for the key and after opening the door, he motioned her inside.
Laura stepped into the tiny but bright living room. She walked around the room, touching soft chenille-upholstered furniture and lingering in front of the wide window that overlooked the lawn, the driveway and, across the way, a tiny view of the lake. She drew the blanket around her shoulders a little tighter.
Jesse walked up behind her. He touched her shoulder and she turned a little, smiling at the man who had offered her this place, this chance at a real life and the real opportunity to get Abigail back.
She looked into his deep brown eyes and saw a flicker of something, just before he shook his head and stepped back, his hand dropping from her shoulder.
“Let me show you the rest of the house.”
She followed him from the living room to the kitchen, a bright room with white cabinets and ceramic tile floors. Down the hall were two sunny bedrooms. She stood in the center of one of those rooms, hugging herself, thinking she might possibly wake up from a wonderful dream where things went right in her life only to find herself still in the halfway house praying for a way out.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m good.” She looked around the room with the quilt-covered bed, windows overlooking green fields and hardwood floors covered with a few deeply colored area rugs. She shook her head. “No, I’m better than good. And I’m waiting for the catch.”
“The catch?”
“Things like this don’t happen for people like me.” She tried to smile but it hurt and her eyes filled with tears that she blinked away before they could fall.
“There’s no catch. You need a job and a place to stay. I need help because I can’t keep up with housework and laundry.”
“No catch?” She walked to the window. In the distance she could see the shimmering waters of Grand Lake.
“None at all.” He stepped back into the hall. “You should rest. I need to get some work done around here but I’ll stop by later to check on you. Don’t forget to put away the milk and other groceries that I left on the counter.”
She followed him to the front door. “Jesse, I’ll never be able to repay you. Thank you for doing this for me.”
“You’re welcome.” He tipped his hat and walked from the porch to his truck. And she was alone.
But less alone than she’d been in years.
Chapter Four
“Heard you hired a housekeeper.”
It had only taken two days for the news to spread. Technically she hadn’t really started working until today. The past two days she’d been on the couch of the cottage, sometimes feverish. He’d kept her drinking hot tea and taking cold medicine. This morning she’d stepped out of the house to greet her new life.
Jesse closed the stall door and turned to face the brother who had managed to sneak in on him. Not that Blake typically sneaked. Sneaking would be something Gage would do, or Jackson, maybe Travis. Of all of his brothers, Blake was the one most likely to keep his nose out of everyone else’s business. Probably because he didn’t want them in his.
Blake stopped at a stall door and ran his hand down the sleek neck of the mare Jesse had just bought.
“Yeah, I hired a housekeeper.” Jesse opened the stall door of the gray, snapped a lead on her and led her out for Blake to look over.
“I still can’t believe you’re raising Arabians.” Blake shook his head. “What were you thinking?”
“They’re great animals.” Jesse shrugged it off, the way he’d been doing for six months, since he brought home the Arab stallion and mare.
“Right, I’ll let you raise your girly horses and I’ll stick with a good, strong quarter horse.”
“And I’ll outride you on an Arab any day of the week.”
Blake ran his hand down the mare’s back and shook his head. “I think we’ll have to put them to the test.”
“We can do that. What brings you out here?”
“Thought I’d stop by. It’s been a while.”
“I’m not buying that. You never stop by because it’s been a while.”
Blake walked away. He stopped in front of the stallion’s stall. The big horse moved restlessly around the stall and settled in the far corner.
“I found my daughter.” Blake turned as he made the announcement.
“How?”
“I hired a private investigator. He isn’t sure if he found her or if Jana allowed him to find them. He said it was pretty easy once he got on the right track. She’s in South Africa.”
Jesse whistled and shook his head. Blake’s ex-wife had taken off years ago, filed for divorce and then hightailed it out of the country with their little girl. Blake had been chasing leads for ten years, trying to get his daughter back, or at least hoping for a chance to see her.
“How old would Lindsey be now?”
“Twelve.”
“Man, Blake, I don’t know what to say.”
“Yeah, me either.”
“Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”
Blake nodded and walked down the wide aisle between rows of stalls. He stopped at the open double door.
“I’ll let you know. And I thought I’d warn you that I stopped to visit our grandmother and she’s on her way out here.” Blake shot a look toward Jesse’s house.
“That’s good to know. I’m sure she only has the best of intentions.”
Blake actually smiled. Maybe because he enjoyed their grandmother focusing on someone other than himself, or because he felt some amazing relief, knowing where Lindsey was. “See you later, brother.”
Jesse waved and went back to work.
When he walked up the steps to the back door of his house, he knew Laura would earn her keep and more. The deck had been swept, the flowers were no longer wilting and the patio table where he liked to drink his morning coffee had been wiped off. He headed for the door but it opened before he could reach for the handle.
Laura jumped back and her hand went to her heart. “I didn’t see you.”
“Sorry about that.” He hung his hat on the hook next to the door and swept his hand through his hair. “I’m going to fix a sandwich. Do you want one?”
“No, I can run up to my place for lunch.”
“I’ll make us both a sandwich. There’s no need for you to walk down there.”
She walked out the back door to the edge of the deck and shook a rug out. After several hard shakes, she turned to look back at him. “I really don’t need to be taken care of.”
“I know you don’t. But I really don’t want you to work more than a few hours today. You need to get your strength back.” He studied the little garden at the side of the house. The garden he’d been meaning to plant something in for as long as he’d had this house. “Did you plant flowers?”
She nodded a little. “I should have asked. It’s just that I saw the plants on the table in your utility room and they were starting to look bad. You had tomatoes, too, and a few pepper plants.”
He motioned her inside. “I’m glad you planted them. I do this every year. I buy plants, consider planting them, get busy, think about them once or twice and then I forget them until they’re brown and long past saving.”
“A doctor who can’t keep a plant alive.” She smiled as she said it. He ignored that smile—with effort.
“Exactly.” He touched her back as she moved ahead of him into the kitchen. The house smelled like pine cleaner and fresh air from the open windows. “This is great. I’d forgotten that a house could smell this good.”
“It wasn’t really messy, just...”
He stopped when he reached the kitchen. “The word you’re looking for is neglected. And what’s in the Crock-Pot?”
She walked past him and lifted the lid. “Roast. I hope you don’t mind. I found it in the freezer and thought it would be an easy meal for you. It’ll be done by six this evening and if you don’t want it tonight, I can put it in a container and you can reheat it tomorrow.”
“Amazing.” He’d lived the bachelor life since he’d left home for college. He’d forgotten what a woman’s touch did for a place.
A car door interrupted his musings. He glanced out the window and saw the corner of a silver car. He pulled ham and cheese out of the fridge. Behind him he heard the water running and Laura washing her hands.
“You have company.”
“That would be my grandmother, here to check on you.” He put the luncheon meat on the counter and found bread in the cabinet.
Laura turned from the sink, a towel in her hands. “Does she know that I’m working for you?”
“I’m sure everyone in town knows. I bought two meals at Vera’s two nights in a row.” He handed her a paper plate. “Don’t worry about it.”
Her eyes widened and pink stained her cheeks. He felt bad about teasing her, but in the past two days he’d learned that she was easy to embarrass, and when that happened, pink crept up her neck to her cheeks.
“Well, I hadn’t planned on worrying until you said something. I don’t want people to get the wrong idea.”
“They won’t.” He grinned because she was watching the door. “Relax, I’m just teasing.”
Before his grandmother could knock, he called out for her to come in. She did. The door banged softly behind her and he heard her mutter something about needing to kick off her shoes before she tracked in mud. The comment reminded him and he looked down at his boots and cringed. Even the hems of his jeans were caked with mud. When he looked up, Laura smiled and shook her head.
“I tracked in on your clean floor.” He reached for a roll of paper towels and she stopped him.
“The mop is still damp. I’ll clean it up after you’re finished with lunch.”
Granny Myrna stepped into the kitchen. She eyed the two of them and helped herself to a cup of coffee.
“Now, isn’t this cozy?”
“Gran, it isn’t what you...”
She raised a bejeweled hand and shook her head. “I know that. It’s just...very domestic. I’m glad to see this place clean and smelling of something other than that dog of yours.”
“Thanks.” He offered her a sandwich and she shook her head.
“I’m not here for lunch. I’m here to see if Laura wants to ride into town with me. I thought we’d check on her car and then we can go by and see her aunt Sally.”
Laura had stopped fixing her sandwich. Her hands stilled over the bread and she glanced his way, as if seeking his permission.
“I really need to finish up. I haven’t mopped the upstairs bathrooms.”
Jesse offered her a bottle of water. “Tomorrow. Eat and go with Gran. I promise she’s usually a very safe driver.”
Laura smiled up at him, a shy smile. “Thank you. And I trust her.”
He grinned at that. “Suit yourself. But trusting her driving, way overrated.”
She turned pink again. He looked away but caught his grandmother watching him, an all-too-knowing look in eyes that probably saw too much, even if she did say they weren’t as good as they used to be.
* * *
Ten minutes and just a few miles later, Laura had lost that trust in Myrna’s driving. A ride to town brought new fears and a renewed belief in the power of prayer.
“Relax. And try breathing. By the way, don’t wear yourself out cleaning Jesse’s house. I don’t think you’re over that virus.” Myrna slowed and pulled into the parking lot of the Lakeside Residential Care Facility. The building was one level, a long, low building with brick siding and multiple windows.
Laura smiled at Myrna.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen or talked to Aunt Sally.”
“Does that mean my driving has nothing to do with your pale face or the death grip on the door handle?”
Laura relaxed her grip and smiled. “Maybe a little.”
“It’s always been a problem for me. I get behind the wheel and something takes over. Mort and I, back in the day when there was a local dirt track, raced. I had a powder-puff car and I could rip up that track.”
“You raced?”
“Don’t look so shocked. I wasn’t always a grandma.”
They got out of the car and walked up the sidewalk together. Myrna touched her arm. “Have you talked to your little girl?”
“Abigail.” Laura nodded. “I was supposed to see her on Saturday but I’m not sure if I’ll be able to.”
“Why ever not?”
“It depends on my car.” She hated to mention it.
“Well, of course you’ll see her. I’ll make sure of it—if I have to drive you myself.”
Laura choked back a laugh and a sob. “Thank you, Myrna.”
“Don’t you mention it, sweetie. Now, let’s go see how Sally Ann is doing.”
Laura followed Myrna down the hall, and Myrna seemed to know right where they would find her aunt. They stopped at a small room with several tables and a few women with jigsaw puzzles in front of them.
Aunt Sally was one of the women. It had been years, but Laura knew her aunt immediately. She wore a pale blue housedress and her dark gray hair was freshly permed. Her wire-framed glasses slid down her nose as she stared at the puzzle pieces in front of her.
“She probably won’t remember you.” Myrna patted Laura’s arm. “I guess you know that.”
Laura nodded, tears filling her eyes as she stared at a woman she remembered from childhood, a woman who had been from Dawson but lived in Tulsa at the time. They would visit on weekends and Aunt Sally would make cookies and show Laura how to crochet granny squares out of multicolored yarn.
She approached her aunt, taking the empty seat next to her. Myrna stood behind Sally, a hand on her shoulder. Sally looked up at Myrna smiling and then offered Laura a vacant smile.
“Hi, Aunt Sally. I’ve come to visit you. I know it’s been a long time.”
“I can’t talk long. I have to go to work.” Aunt Sally held a puzzle piece in her hand.
“That piece goes here.” Laura showed her the spot.
Aunt Sally shook her head. “I don’t see it.”
“Here.” Laura pointed.
Aunt Sally placed the piece in the spot in the puzzle and looked up at Laura. “Are you taking me home? They have my car and they won’t give it to me.”
“No, I’m sorry, I can’t take you home. I’m your niece, Laura White.”
“I thought you were Abby. She married my nephew. You look like her.”
“I’m Abby’s daughter, Laura.”
“I haven’t seen her in years.” Sally picked up another puzzle piece. “I remember them.”
“I’m glad you do, Aunt Sally.”
“So when are we leaving? I want to get out of here. They steal my clothes. Sometimes they put me in a dark closet and leave me there for days.”
“We can’t leave right now.” Laura helped her aunt place another piece down. “But I’m going to live close by so I can see you more often.”
Aunt Sally looked around. “Live here? Do they have apartments for rent?”
“No, I have a job in town. I’m going to live in a house nearby.”
“I’ll have to pack my bags.”
A nurse walked in, smiling at Laura as she rounded up the women who were still working on the puzzle. “Time for snacks, ladies.”
“Will you have a snack with me?” Aunt Sally reached for her hand.
“I would, but I have to go now. But I’ll be back soon. I love you, Aunt Sally.” She kissed her aunt’s cheek. “And I’m sorry it took me so long to get here.”
“They do like punctual workers.”
“I know. I’ll be on time from now on.”
Aunt Sally stood, wobbling a little as she reached for a walker. “See that you are. And make sure you feed the cat.”
Her aunt left with the other women. After a few minutes Laura got up and left the room. She had no idea where Myrna had gone. Rather than wait in the empty activity room, Laura walked down the hall. She passed a room where someone cried out, the words unintelligible. A familiar voice with a comforting tone and comforting words followed the cry.
Laura turned back to the room and peeked in. Myrna sat on the edge of a bed, holding the hand of the woman in the bed. Laura started to walk away, but Myrna saw her.
“You can come in.”
Laura stepped into the dimly lit room, very aware of every scent, the heaviness of the air, the shades pulled over the window. Myrna stood, but she still held the hand of the woman in the bed.
“This is Gayla.”
Gayla didn’t move but she smiled just a little. Laura couldn’t guess her age. Maybe twenty. Maybe thirty. Her blond hair was pulled back in a ponytail, her body curled in the fetal position.
“Hello, Gayla.” Laura touched the hand that curled in. “I’m Laura.”
Myrna smiled and leaned to brush back the blond hair of the woman in the bed. “We have to leave, but Jesse will be here tomorrow.”
Gayla no longer smiled. Her eyes watered with unshed tears.
Myrna shook her head and reached for Laura’s arm. They walked out of the room together. Questions formed but Laura didn’t want to ask. Who was Gayla? Family? A friend? Someone special to the Coopers?
Or to Jesse?
“She’s a local girl.” Myrna led Laura down the hall. “She’s been here for years. Her mother had to move to Tulsa and there’s no other family. We visit her when we can.”
“What happened to her?”
“Car accident.” Myrna pushed a code into the front door. It buzzed and she pushed it open. Laura followed her through the door.
“That’s terrible.”
Myrna stopped on the sidewalk. Her light hazel eyes caught and held Laura’s. “It’s a tragedy that has touched several lives.”
Laura didn’t know what to take from that. Didn’t know what Myrna wanted to tell her. Rather than asking the questions, she got in the car and Myrna cranked the engine to life.
Their first stop after the nursing home was the garage where Laura’s car had been towed. The mechanic walked over to Myrna’s car and leaned in the driver’s-side window.
“It doesn’t look good, Myrna.” He wiped his face with a rag and slipped it back in his pocket.
Myrna shook her head. “Will, I thought you said you could fix anything.”
“I usually can, but sometimes fixing is more expensive than the car is worth.” He offered Laura an apologetic smile. “Sorry, ma’am.”
“Well, then, you see what you can find to replace it.”
Laura put a hand on Myrna’s arm. “No, Myrna, it’s okay. I can save up money and buy something pretty cheap.”
“Nonsense. Will, you see what you can find. Something decent and dependable, not a lot of miles.”
He saluted and backed away from the car. “You’re the boss, Myrna.”
“Don’t you forget it.” Myrna shifted into Reverse and backed out of the parking lot. “How about coffee and pie at the Mad Cow? It’s Wednesday. Vera has coconut cream on Wednesday.”
“That sounds good, but I should probably get back to work.”
“Nonsense. Jesse already said he wants you to take it easy for a few days. You need to listen to him.”
A few minutes later they pulled into the black-and-white-painted building with Mad Cow Café painted on the front in red letters. Laura hadn’t been in the restaurant but had eaten the meals that Jesse had had delivered.
“Here we are.” Myrna parked the car in an empty space at the side of the building. “You coming in?”
Laura nodded and unbuckled her seat belt. “Of course.”
Cowbells clanged to announce their arrival as they walked through the door of the restaurant. Although it was well past lunchtime, there were several full tables. A group of ladies took up the long center table. Two tables were taken by older men.
“Men gossip more than women ever thought of,” Myrna announced as she walked past the group of men. She touched the shoulder of one man and he smiled up at her. Myrna took off his ball cap and hung it on the back of his chair. “Take your hat off when you’re inside.”
“It’s the Mad Cow, Myrna,” he grumbled as he ran a big hand through thinning gray hair. “I tell you, women are a lot of trouble. Who’s your friend? Is she as ornery as you?”
“Of course she is. And her name is Laura.”
A woman walked out from the back of the restaurant. Her dark hair was shot through with gray and pulled back in a neat bun. Her white blouse and jeans were hidden behind a red apron.
“Well, look who came in for coconut cream pie.” The woman hugged Myrna. “Here, sit back here away from these men.”
“Thank you, Vera, we will. And I’d like for you to meet Laura.” Myrna pulled Laura forward.
Vera nodded and then she smiled. “You’re Jesse’s housekeeper. How you feeling, honey? Did my chicken soup help?”
“It did.”
“Good, well, the coconut cream pie will make you feel even better. You girls have a seat. I’ll be right back with pie and coffee.”
Laura squeezed into the corner booth, sitting opposite Myrna. Vera returned a few minutes later with three pieces of pie and the coffeepot.
“I brought another piece of pie on out. I saw Jesse pull in a few minutes ago. I figure he’ll want pie.”
The bells clanged and the glass door opened. Jesse pulled off his cowboy hat as he walked in and ran a hand through his dark hair. He glanced around the room and when he saw Laura and Myrna, he smiled. Laura choked a little on her coffee and Vera gave her a sympathetic look.
“There’s definitely something going around.” Vera smiled as she made the comment. “I hope it isn’t too contagious.”
Chapter Five
Jesse knew he’d start a few new rumors by walking in and sitting next to Laura. He’d considered sitting by his grandmother but she didn’t seem to be inclined to move over. Laura looked up, her coffee cup still in her hand. She glanced at his grandmother, then at him. After a long pause Laura scooted and he sat next to her.
“Now, look at that, Laura—my grandson is a gentleman. See how he took his hat off and left it on the hook by the door.”
Jesse knew the comment wasn’t for him. His grandmother looked at the table of farmers having their afternoon coffee and he wondered which one she meant that comment for.
“Gran, I know you’d still take a switch to my hide if I stepped in here wearing my hat.”
She smiled at that. “Vera brought you a piece of coconut pie.”
Laura moved the plate and a roll of silverware in a napkin in front of him. “It’s really good.”
“Best in Oklahoma.” Vera returned with the coffeepot.
“Jesse, how are you today?”
“I’m good, Vera.” He watched the owner of the Mad Cow, wondering what she was up to. “How are you?”
She smiled and poured his coffee. “I’m just dandy. Are you bringing Laura to church tonight?”
“I have to go in to work this evening.”
“That’s too bad. The singles group is starting a new Bible study.”
Then Jesse got it. He looked from Vera to Laura, and from the shade of pink crawling up Laura’s cheeks, he figured she got it, too. Vera was trying to match them up, make more of the situation than there was. From the pleased look on his grandmother’s face, she was hoping he’d be the next Cooper she offered an heirloom ring to. He considered putting the rumors to bed right then, but he didn’t.
For some crazy reason, he kept his mouth shut. He sat there next to Laura, her shoulder brushing his and her sweet perfume, springtime and fresh, teasing his senses, and he didn’t say a word.
“I doubt I’ll be able to make it, Vera,” he finally managed. “But I can drop Laura off if she wants to attend.”
Laura’s gray eyes widened as she looked at him. He grinned and lifted his brows. She shook her head.
“I don’t think I’m up to it.” She turned to smile up at Vera. “But thank you.”
“That’s a shame.” Vera shook her head and looked at his grandmother. “Isn’t that a shame, Myrna?”
“It is a shame.” His grandmother glanced at the table of farmers then at her watch. “Look at the time. I forgot I have an appointment in Grove. Jesse, can you give Laura a ride back to your place?”
“Of course I can. Where are you going in such a hurry?”
His grandmother stood and for a second she seemed a little lost. She touched the back of a chair to steady herself, then smiled big as if nothing had happened. Jesse wanted to believe nothing had happened, but he wasn’t wrong.
“I’ve just got an appointment.” She smiled again.
“Gran, are you okay?” Jesse pushed the pie back and Laura was already moving out of her seat. But they were too late. His grandmother walked away.
“I’m fine, Jesse. Make sure Laura gets home.”
He watched her walk out the door, head held high. But he wasn’t convinced. Later he’d call and have a talk with his dad.

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The Cowboy′s Healing Ways Brenda Minton
The Cowboy′s Healing Ways

Brenda Minton

Тип: электронная книга

Жанр: Современные любовные романы

Язык: на английском языке

Издательство: HarperCollins

Дата публикации: 16.04.2024

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О книге: SEPARATED FROM HER CHILDAfter being wrongfully convicted of a crime and losing custody of her daughter, all single mother Laura White wants is her little girl back. But she’ll need a job and a real home first. When Dr. Jesse Alvarez Cooper hires her as housekeeper at his Oklahoma ranch, Laura is grateful.The handsome cowboy doctor, with a harrowing past that stretches continents, also vows to help her get her child back. Suddenly, Laura’s dreams may come true—two permanent place settings added around the Cooper family table.Cooper Creek: Home is where the heart is for this Oklahoma family

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