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“Ready to go?”
“We’re ready,” Gage opened the door and motioned Brandon in. He joined Jackson at the back of the truck. “Is there anything you need me to grab?”
“Nope, I have lunch in the cooler and coffee in the thermos. We’re set to go.”
“Let’s do it then.”
“Gage, why are you doing this?”
“Doing what?”
Jackson shot a look at the cab of the truck where Brandon waited, and then back to Gage. “Don’t play stupid.”
“I’m helping Layla get control of her little brother before he lands himself in trouble.”
“Out of the goodness of your heart?”
“Yeah, why not?” Gage started to walk away but Jackson stopped him.
“When do you ever do anything just because it helps someone else?”
Anger flared but quickly evaporated because Jackson had a point. “So, I haven’t been the most charitable Cooper ever. But sometimes a guy sees the right thing to do and he does it.”
“And it has nothing to do with Layla Silver being downright pretty and available?”
“Layla’s pretty?” He scrunched his eyebrows in thought and scratched his chin. “Yeah, I guess she is.”
“She’s also the girl you treated poorly back in high school.”
“Well, maybe I’ve decided to make a few things right.” He was itching to get away from Jackson and this conversation, but Jackson didn’t appear to be letting go any more than a dog that had found a good bone.
“Making amends, are we?” Jackson headed for the driver’s side door of the truck.
“Yeah, something like that.”
“There’s a lot more to it than just doing a few good deeds to make you feel better.”
Gage whistled for Layla’s dog and pointed to the back of the truck. Once the animal was in, he walked around the truck to climb in. He wished he could get in his truck and take off, no looking back.
But he’d made a commitment, and he was going to see it through. Besides, even though he didn’t want to admit it, he didn’t feel like running.
* * *
After work that evening, Layla drove up to Cooper Creek Ranch to get her little brother. She parked her old truck in front of the two-story garage, but she didn’t get out right away. It felt too good to sit in the truck and relax. The silence felt almost as good as the sitting.
A scratching on the door of her truck caught her attention. She pushed the door open and Daisy jumped back, wagging her feathery black tail and panting ninety-to-nothing.
“Traitor,” she said. Daisy didn’t mind. Instead she licked Layla’s hand and then ran off in the direction of the barn.
Layla started walking in the direction the dog had gone, her feet dragging. The barn made her poor old wood building look miserable by comparison. Her barn had been built by her grandfather in the early 1900s. This barn was a metal building, half stable and half arena. It even had an apartment attached.
The Coopers had a little of everything. Quarter horses, bucking bulls, cattle, not to mention the banks, oil and apartment complexes. They were wealthy, but they were also the kindest people she knew. They were generous and good to their neighbors. Not that they were without their own problems. Not that their children, most now grown, didn’t occasionally do something wrong. She guessed she liked the Coopers because they were genuine and sometimes they messed up.
She walked to the barn but she didn’t go in. Early evening had settled over the countryside, turning the sky dusky gray and pink. In the field cattle grazed. It was peaceful. She needed that moment of peace. It was too cold to stay outside, though, and she’d left her jacket in the truck. She shivered, reaching for the door as it opened. She jumped out of the way.
Jackson Cooper smiled as he stepped through the door. “Layla, long day?”
“Always.” Every day for nearly eight years. She managed a smile. “Is Brandon making a nuisance of himself?”
“Not at all. We worked him hard today. He asked about pay and Gage said we’re putting part of it in an account for college and giving the rest to you to decide what he gets.”
“Really? That was Gage’s plan?”
Jackson grinned. “He came home responsible or guilty. Whatever happened, he’s trying to help you out.”
“He doesn’t owe me.”
“He thinks he does.”
“I should get Brandon and go. I’m sure you all have more to do than keeping my brother out of trouble.”
“Go on in. They’re in the arena. I’m heading home.” Jackson patted her shoulder and walked away as she headed into the barn.
She could hear them in the arena. Her steps slowed as she neared the entrance that led from the stable to the arena. She listened carefully to the clank of metal, the pounding of hooves, shouts from someone other than Gage or Brandon.
Through the wide opening in the arena she saw her brother in a metal chute, settling on the back of a bull.
She yelled out, “No!” But it was too late. The gate opened and the bull came spinning out, her brother clamped down tight on its back. She walked fast around the metal enclosure, keeping a cautious eye on the bull and her brother.
The ride didn’t last long. The bull spun fast and Brandon went flying. He rolled out of the way as Travis Cooper moved between him and the animal. Gage headed her way, grinning, obviously proud of himself. Quickly, something obviously clued him in to the fact that she was as far from happy as a woman could get. His smile faded and he shot a worried glance in the direction of the arena, where her brother had gotten to his feet.
“How dare you!” She pushed past him to open the gate now that the bull had been penned up. “Brandon, let’s go. We’re going home.”
“I’m not.” Brandon said, but then he had the sense to look a little worried.
“I didn’t give you permission to ride bulls. I don’t have the money for hospital bills. And I can’t...” She couldn’t lose anyone else. She swallowed the lump that lodged in her throat and refused to look at Gage. He had a hand on her arm but she shook her head. She didn’t want to see sympathy in his eyes.
She avoided those looks from people. Had made it a habit right after her parents died. Those looks had turned her into a sobbing mess, and she’d had to be strong. She didn’t have time to fall apart. Brandon needed her to be strong.
“It was a steer,” Gage offered. “I wouldn’t let him get hurt. And I’m not going to start him out on our bulls. Come on, Layla, you know that.”
“Right.” She motioned Brandon through the gate. “We’re going home. I have chores to do and I still have to cook dinner.”
“I ate with the Coopers, and we did the chores at the house a couple hours ago.” Brandon kept his eyes down, staring at his boots.
“Thank you.” The anger seeped out, leaving her shaking and weak. “But I haven’t eaten and I’m ready to go home.”
“Layla, can we talk?” Gage maneuvered her away from Brandon and Travis. “We’ll catch up with you guys at the house.”
“Right.” Travis gave Gage a long look before nodding. “Come on, Brandon, we’ll see if there’s any leftover pie.”
Travis and her brother walked out of the arena, leaving her alone with Gage. He nodded toward the bleachers that served as seating when the Coopers held small events on the ranch. Layla didn’t want to sit and talk. She wanted to go home and put her feet up. Most of all she wanted not to think about Gage Cooper or how her life was falling apart while he played at fixing his.
She sat down on the second row of seating, shivering as the cool metal bench seeped into her bones, chilling her. Gage didn’t sit down. He shrugged out of his canvas jacket and placed it around her shoulders.
“Thank you.” She looked up at him, wishing he could always be this person. But this Gage was the dangerous Gage. He was the person a girl could lose her heart to. Even when she knew better.
“Let me teach him to ride bulls.”
Gage gave her an easy smile. Life was a big adventure for him. He traveled. He rode bulls. He lived for himself. She closed her eyes because she knew she wasn’t being fair.
When she opened her eyes, he was watching her. Intent. Curious. Handsome in a way that made a girl’s heart melt. It was his eyes, she thought, and shook her head.
“I do not want him to ride bulls, Gage. I want him to grow up, go to college, get married and have kids. I want...”
She couldn’t say that she wanted him to be grown-up so she could stop worrying. That wasn’t fair. She’d known when their parents died that her life had to be put on hold to raise her brother. She had worked hard to keep the authorities from placing him with strangers.
She’d put aside her dreams of college, a career, marriage and children. That wasn’t Brandon’s fault.
“I’ll keep him on steers until I know he can handle bulls. I think if you’ll listen to me, you’ll understand why this is important.”
She looked up, meeting those sincere hazel eyes of his. He’d been in the Southwest, so his skin was still golden-brown from the sun. “Tell me.”
“He needs something to keep him busy and people who will keep him busy. He’s in with a bad crowd right now, Layla. You can’t be with him all of the time. So if he’s here when he isn’t at school, we can keep him out of trouble. I can help you with that.”
“Right, so this is about you?”
He grinned again, white teeth flashing. “Could you stop being so mean?”
Layla closed her eyes and nodded. “I’m sorry. I’m not a mean person. I’m just tired.”
The bleachers moved and creaked as he sat down next to her. His shoulder bumped hers, and she inhaled the scent of the outdoors. How could he smell that good when he’d been working all day?
“I know you’re not mean.” His voice was soft. “I was teasing.”
Her heart tried to open up. She couldn’t let it. “You hurt me.”
“I know and I’m sorry.”
She nodded, not looking at him because she couldn’t look into his eyes right then, not when her emotions were worn thin and she needed someone to lean on. It couldn’t be him.
“What is it you’re doing, Gage? Are you trying to earn my forgiveness?”
“I don’t know.” He leaned back against the bleacher seat behind them and stretched his leg in front of him. “Maybe I’m trying to find my way back.”
“God doesn’t require you to make amends to be forgiven.”
He didn’t respond for a minute. She wondered if she’d hit the nail on the head. She looked up at him. He was staring at the arena, his strong jaw clenched. She focused, for whatever reason, on the pulse at the base of his throat.
Finally he sighed. “I have to do this.”
“I forgave you a long time ago. When we’re young everything feels like forever. I was a typical teenage girl who thought if you smiled at me, we’d probably get married. I know better now.”
“Girls really think that?” He smiled at her.
“Maybe not that drastically. But when the teenage girl is already...” She didn’t want to have this conversation, but it was too late. “When the girl isn’t feeling loved, she is probably looking for someone to love her.”
“I’m sorry that I wasn’t the person to love you.”
So was she. “Well, you did me a favor. You taught me to be more careful. We’ve all hurt people, Gage. It’s part of life, part of growing up.”
“I know. But somehow I’ve skated through life with almost no repercussions and other people have suffered....”
He had more to say, but she didn’t want to hear it. They weren’t friends. They didn’t share secrets. She stood up and moved away from him, away from his story and his emotions.
“I should go.”
He grinned and stood up. “Too much?”
“Yeah. I think if you need to confess, I’m not the person. But I’ll take the help with my brother.”
“Thank you.”
She took off his coat and handed it back to him. His fingers brushed hers. Layla pulled back, surprised by the contact, by the way his eyes sought hers when they touched.
“Good night, Gage.” She hurried away, leaving him standing in the arena alone.
Chapter Four
Gage didn’t plan on going to church with the family Sunday morning, so he woke up before sunrise and headed out, dressed for work in old jeans, a flannel shirt and work boots. Layla had a few fences that looked like a cow could walk right through them, and he knew she’d fight him if he offered. So he wasn’t going to ask, he was just going to do it.
It was cold, so cold he could see his breath as he walked along the fence line after parking his truck at the end of Layla’s drive. Talk about a mess. The fence posts leaned and the barbed wire was so loose a cow could walk between the strands.
He didn’t know why kids had bothered cutting the fence. They could have pushed the fence posts over. But not after today. He planned on pounding the posts back into the ground and tightening the wire, maybe replacing some of it.
It would take all day. So he wouldn’t have to sit across the Sunday table from Reese and fight his anger all over again. He wasn’t angry with Reese, but with the hand he’d been dealt. Gage wouldn’t have to go to church and face God with that anger.
He stopped at the corner post. The sun was coming up over the tree line, shooting beams of light into the hazy morning. It wouldn’t take long for it to burn up the fog and melt the frost that covered the grass and trees. But it sure was beautiful.
As the sun rose, he pounded away at fence posts, working his way down the line. He eventually had to get his sunglasses, and then went back to work. He didn’t know how Layla did it all. She was working, trying to keep her brother from becoming a juvenile delinquent and holding on to this farm. He shot a look toward the house, a good thousand feet to the east of where he stood. At that moment she walked out the back door, her tiny frame hidden inside a big coat, a knit cap pulled down tight on her head.
He didn’t move on to the next post. Instead he watched as she leaned down to pet her dog and then walked to the barn. He watched as she walked through the doors and a minute later she opened a side door. The horse that ran into the corral took his breath away. Maybe it was the distance, maybe it was the rising sun catching the gold in the red-gold coat, but the animal was crazy beautiful.
Where’d she get a horse like that? How had he missed it last night when he and Brandon had fed the livestock? Right, he’d fed the cattle. Brandon had taken care of the horse, and Gage hadn’t thought much about it.
The animal tossed its head and ran around the small enclosure. Layla stood on the outside of the corral, her arms rested on the top rail. The horse changed to a slow, gaited trot that was pretty showy.
Eventually Gage shook his head and went back to work, pounding the next post deeper into the ground. Five more to go. He was down to the second from the last post when Layla walked up to him, her arms crossed and that knit cap making her gray eyes look huge.
“What in the world are you doing?”
He finished the last post, pounding once, twice, three times. He tried to push it, but it was in tight. “Fixing your fence before the cattle realize they can walk right through.”
“I can fix my own fences.” She looked like a woman about to stomp her foot.
“I know you can. I’m being helpful.”
“No, you’re feeling guilty. And angry. And I don’t know what else. But I am not your problem. You are your problem. Stop trying to fix your life by fixing mine.”
He stepped back, stung by her words. She might have a point. “Whatever.”
Yeah, that didn’t sound much like a teenage girl. He let it go. He had fence to fix. He pulled the tools out of his jacket pocket and grabbed the fence.
“Stop.”
He looked up from the wire he was holding and pushed his hat back so he could get a better look at her. He yanked off his sunglasses and shoved them in his pocket. “Why?”
“Because I’ve got to get ready for church, and if Brandon sees you out here, he isn’t going to want to go.”
“He’ll go.”
“Because you’ll make him?” She nearly smiled. The edge of her mouth pulled up, and her eyes sparkled just briefly. It took him by surprise, that almost smile.
He shook off the strange urge to hug her and went back to work, ignoring her as she continued to yammer at him, telling him why he was about as low on the food chain as a guy could get.
Finally she did something that sounded a lot like a growl and then she punched him on the arm. He swallowed down a laugh and turned to look at her. She was madder than spit.
“Are you about finished abusing me?”
She yanked off her knit cap and shoved it into her pocket, setting her light brown hair free to drift across her face, set in motion by a light breeze. “No, I’m not done. If you don’t get off my property, I’m calling the police.”
“You’re going to turn me in for fixing your fence?”
“Yes.” She bit down on her bottom lip and the angry look in her eyes melted. “You make me so mad.”
“Because I’m cute and hard to hate.”
“Something like that.” Her mouth opened like a landed trout. “I didn’t mean the cute part.”
“Of course you did.”
“No, I didn’t. You think you’re cute. I don’t.”
“I could use a cup of coffee. And where did you get that horse?”
“I don’t have coffee. And the horse is mine.”
“I know he’s yours.”
“My old stallion died a few years ago. The filly is the last foal I got from him. Her mother was a pretty Arab that I bought at an auction.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes, seriously. I had to sell the mare, but I kept the foal. She’s three now.”
They were walking toward the house at this point. Gage didn’t know exactly how it happened. Maybe she started to walk away and he followed. Or maybe they both started walking as they talked about the mare. It didn’t really matter; it just meant he was losing it. No big deal.
As they got closer to the house, he glanced toward the corral and the mare that now stood at the opposite side of the enclosure. He whistled and the horse turned, her ears twitching at the sound. She trotted across the enclosure, her legs coming high off the ground in the prettiest dance he’d ever seen. Her neck was arched and her black tail flagged behind her.
“Nice, isn’t she?” Layla looked at the horse with obvious pride.
“What are you going to do with her?”
“I had planned to train her for Western pleasure, but then I realized she was a barrel racer.” She shrugged slim shoulders beneath the oversize canvas coat. “I don’t know...I might sell her.”
“Why would you do that?”
She didn’t look at him. He guessed if she did, he’d see tears in her eyes. He didn’t know what he’d do if faced with those tears.
* * *
Layla hadn’t meant to tell him that she planned on selling Pretty Girl. But the words had slipped out, her emotions were strung tight and she had confided in the last person on earth she should have been confiding in.
“Layla?”
She shrugged.
“I don’t have the money to haul her around the country or the time to train her. She really deserves to be a national champion.” She stumbled over all of the reasons she’d been telling herself. When she looked up, he was looking at the mare and not at her. She breathed a sigh of relief. She didn’t need to see sympathy in his eyes.
“I’ll buy her.”
“No.” She practically shouted the word and then felt silly.
This time he looked at her. “Really?”
“No, not really. I don’t know. Maybe I won’t have to get rid of her. Vera said I could work nights waiting tables at The Mad Cow.”
The owner of the local diner had always been good to Layla. When the job opened, Layla had jumped on it. Yes, it added one more thing to her to-do list, but it would bring in a little extra money at Christmastime.
“When are you going to start working for Vera?”
She walked up to the corral and reached up to pet Pretty Girl’s velvety nose. The mare nuzzled against her palm, her breath warm, her lips twitching and soft. The mare was her dream horse. But dreams changed.
A hand, strong and firm rested on Layla’s back. She wanted to shift away from the touch, but she couldn’t. Not even when the hand rested on her shoulder, his strong arm encircling her.
“Don’t get rid of her, Layla.”
Why did his voice have to be so soft, so sincere?
Buck up, Layla. She gave herself the stern lecture and moved from his embrace. “I need to get ready for church.”
“I’m going to finish that fence.” He reached for her arm and she stopped. “Layla, don’t give up.”
“I won’t.” She smiled and backed away from him. “And thank you, for the fence, for talking. I’ll see you later.”
He waved and then headed back to the fence he’d been working on. She watched him go before she hurried across the yard to the house to finish getting ready. As she headed to her room she yelled at Brandon to get up. He wasn’t skipping church. She heard him mutter that he was awake.
She’d give him ten minutes.
Now she had to figure out what she would wear to church. She opened her closet and rummaged through the clothes. A stack of notebooks on the bottom of the closet caught her attention. She hadn’t looked at them in years. She didn’t plan on looking at them now. Who needed voices from the past to remind them how it felt to have a broken heart?
That girl of sixteen was long gone. She had work-callused hands, a heart that didn’t have time for romance and bills to be paid at the first of the month.
At a quarter to ten she walked through the house, carrying the boots she would wear with her denim skirt and searching for her Bible and her brother. She found her Bible on the table next to the chair she’d fallen asleep in two nights ago. She didn’t find Brandon.
She slipped her feet into her boots and grabbed a jacket off the hook next to the door. She knew where she’d find her brother. And she was right. He was down at the fence with Gage.
After tossing her purse and Bible in the truck, she walked down to where the two were working away, laughing and talking like old friends. She watched as Brandon pulled the wire tight and Gage clipped it to the metal post.
“It’s time to go to church.” Layla shivered in the cool morning air.
“I’m going to stay here and help Gage.” Brandon didn’t even look up. But Gage met her eyes and she glared, letting him know this was his fault.
“You’re going to church.” Layla cleared her throat and stood a little taller. “Come on.”
“Layla, Gage doesn’t go to church, so I’m not going.”
She heard Gage groan. She shot him another disgusted look.
He sighed.
“Guess I’m going today,” Gage grumbled, clipping the last strand of wire. “Come on, kid, before you get us both in trouble.”
Brandon looked from Gage, whom he had obviously counted on to be his ally, to Layla. “Seriously, you’re giving in to her. Just like that?”
“Just like that.”
“I’m not dressed for church.” Brandon tried the argument, and Layla knew it was because she always made him put on his best jeans and shirt for church.
Gage wasn’t dressed for church, either. His jeans were faded and ripped at the knees. His boots were covered in mud. He obviously hadn’t shaved in a couple of days.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Gage shot back at Layla, probably because of the once-over she’d given him. “We’re going to church, and this is how we’re going. Besides, I’m about ready to sit down.”
“So church is a good place to get warm and put your leg up?”
He laughed, a rich, velvety laugh. “You said it. And I’m driving.”
“We’re not going to church together.” Layla found herself walking next to him, and even feeling a little bit sorry for him because he walked slower than normal. When she glanced up, she saw his mouth tighten in pain.
“You’re riding with me. And after church, I’m pretty sure my mom will insist on you all coming over for lunch.”
“That should be a good reason for me to take my truck, so that you don’t get stuck with us at lunch.”