Читать книгу The Cowboy SEAL - Laura Marie Altom - Страница 12

Chapter Five

“Mom? Are you alive?”

Millie cautiously opened her tear-swollen eyes to find her son standing at the head of her bed. Though J.J.’s expression read concerned, his red snowsuit and Power Ranger hat and gloves read Snow Day.

“Cool! Since you are alive, can I go build a fort?”

She groaned. “Honey, what time is it? And did you do your chores?” On weekends and any other time they didn’t have school, the kids were in charge of egg collecting and cleaning the litter box—not that they often saw the orange tabby named Cheetah, who mostly preferred hiding behind the dining room’s half-dead ficus.

“Me and LeeAnn tried doing chores, but Uncle Coop already did ’em.”

She sat up in the bed. “Even the cat box?”

“Well...” J.J. dropped his gaze in the telltale sign of a fib. “Since he made breakfast for me and Lee and Grandpa, I bet he did that and checked on the chickens, too.”

“Uh-huh...” She grabbed her robe from the foot of the bed, then slipped her feet out from under the covers and into house shoes. The home had been built in 1905, meaning the woodstove and a few space heaters were all they had for heat. On many mornings, she’d woken to air cold enough to see her breath. Thankfully, this wasn’t one. “Come on,” she said to her son after switching off the valiantly humming space heater then shrugging into her robe and cinching the belt. “Let’s see what’s going on.”

“Okay—” J.J. took her hand “—but we’d have more fun if we just went outside and built a fort.”

“Why’s that?” she asked with trepidation. To say the previous night had been rocky would be the understatement of the century. She and Cooper’s uncomfortable scene had ended with her dashing upstairs and slamming her door. Not only had she been saddened and infuriated by her brother-in-law, but the fact that she’d then sought comfort from him as well had all been too much to bear. For the first time in recent memory, she’d cried herself to sleep. But she didn’t have time for such folly. She had Clint and her children to care for—not to mention this godforsaken ranch. Most winter mornings, she woke wishing herself a million miles away. Then came spring, and along with the first daffodils, up rose her indefatigable hope.

“Well—” on the way down the stairs, J.J. wiped his runny nose on his coat sleeve “—Lee’s having a fight with Uncle Cooper, and Grandpa’s been making a lot of scary noises.”

Swell...

From the base of the stairs, raised voices could clearly be heard.

“Grandpa doesn’t like you! Leave him alone!”

“Doesn’t matter if he likes me or not. He just needs to quit being a stubborn old mule and eat.”

Never had Millie more understood the meaning of being careful what she wished for. She’d long believed Cooper’s return would be the answer to her every prayer, but apparently, she couldn’t have been more wrong.

She hastened her pace only to find herself in the middle of even more chaos than the night before.

Cooper sat calmly on the edge of his father’s bed, doing an admirable job of trying to feed him what she guessed from the beige splatters dotting his quilts, the floor and walls was oatmeal. With each new spoonful, he used his good arm to swat at his son.

“Gwet aut!” Clint hollered.

Initially, the shock of his volume took Millie aback, but then the significance of what’d just happened sank in. “Clint, you spoke!” She approached the bed and gestured for Cooper to hand her the oatmeal bowl. “That was awesome. Your speech therapist will be thrilled.”

“I’m happy for you, Grandpa!” J.J. hugged Clint’s clean arm.

“See, Dad?” Cooper took a damp dishrag from the rolling tray table and wiped cereal clumps from his father’s red flannel pajama top. “No matter how much you hate me being here, I’m technically good for you.”

“Arggghh!”

“What?” Cooper prompted his father. “I didn’t quite catch that. Mind repeating?”

“Mom, make him stop,” LeeAnn begged from the foot of the bed.

“Aigh ate uuu!”

“Mom, please...”

“What’s that, old man?” Cooper taunted. “You hate me? Good, because right about now, I’m not exactly feeling warm and fuzzy toward you.” He tapped his temple. “Even after all this time, though I can rationalize in my head that what happened to Mom was an accident, in here—” he patted his chest “—the way you treated me—the way you made your pal, the sheriff, keep me from attending my own mother’s funeral? What the hell? Who does that? The whole thing still keeps me up at night.”

“Stop!” LeeAnn cried to Cooper. “I don’t blame Grandpa for hating you! You’re the devil!”

“Lee!” Millie set the bowl on the nightstand in favor of going to her daughter. “Honey, please take J.J. outside to gather the eggs and make sure the heat lamp’s still on.”

“But, Mom, I—”

“Lee, just go.” Millie hated being short with the girl, but felt at least temporarily removing her kids from this toxic environment was best for all involved. Deep down, as tough as this father-son duel was to witness, she suspected it was doing them both good.

“Fine.” LeeAnn held out her hand to her brother. “Come on, brat.”

“You’re a brat!”

“Both of you, knock it off!” Millie snapped. What a difference a day made. She’d grown accustomed to constant worry, but this added a whole new dimension to family fun.

When the kids were outside, Millie drew Cooper into the hall, shutting Clint’s door behind her. “Look, I think I get what you’ve been trying to do with your dad—the whole tough-love routine—but maybe adding stress to an already difficult situation isn’t the best course.”

“I wasn’t trying to do anything. I heard him banging around in there, and since you were still sleeping and your friend Lynette called and said because her car won’t start, she won’t be able to make it today, I figured I’d give you a hand. Turns out the old bastard didn’t want breakfast, but to give me a hard time.”

“Cooper... You belittling him makes me uncomfortable.”

“Sorry.” Outside, the wind howled. In the cramped hall, he paced, his expression every bit as tormented as the storm. “At the moment, his very existence isn’t doing much for me.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“No, I don’t, but honestly?” His pinched expression broke her heart. No—what really broke her heart was the way so much time had passed, yet everything between father and son had not only stayed the same, but maybe even grown worse. “I’ve been here just shy of twenty-four hours and feel like I’m going batshit crazy. I know my dad’s going through a rough patch, but we’re all in this together now.”

She winced at his language, though mirrored the sentiment.

“If you don’t mind taking over in there—” he gestured toward his dad’s room “—I need to check the cattle.”

Though he was yet again retreating, Millie knew that this time it was only temporary and for a noble cause. Their prized herd did need to be checked, and the fact that she wouldn’t be the one making the long ride out to the south pasture in these treacherous conditions made her heart swell with gratitude.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” His gaze met hers and locked.

His intensity startled her to the point that she had to look away. Her pulse raced, and she wasn’t sure what to do with her hands, so she fussed with her robe’s belt, feeling all of thirteen upon realizing that Cooper was still the most handsome cowboy in town. Don’t get her wrong—she’d loved her husband with every ounce of her being, but Jim had been a kind soul. Cooper? Well, even back in high school his downright sinful sooty-lashed stare had made rodeo queens swoon and female teachers forgive missing homework.

From the kitchen came the sound of the back door crashing open. “Mom!” LeeAnn hollered. “Come quick!”

Covering her suddenly flushed face with her hands, Millie found herself actually welcoming whatever emergency her daughter had brought inside. At least it would distract her from Cooper’s mossy-green gaze.

The rooster’s crow coming from the kitchen was her first clue that she should abandon all hope of finding peace that morning.

“Mom, the heat lamp’s not on and the chickens were shivering. We’re bringing them inside.”

Millie pressed her lips tight while J.J. set his favorite golden wyandotte on the kitchen floor. She fussed a bit, fluffing her feathers and preening, then made a beeline for the cat food.

Cooper cut her off at the pass to set the food bowl on the counter. “Mill, before we get the house full of feathers and chicken shit, do you have a spare bulb for the lamp in case it’s an easy fix?”

J.J. gaped. “Uncle Cooper, you’re not allowed to say that word.”

“Sorry.” He had the good grace to actually redden.

“Apology accepted.” Millie was embarrassed to admit she didn’t have spare anything. The bulbs had been on her shopping list for ages, but with barely enough money to pay for food, let alone heat, what was the point of even having a list? “And no, I don’t have an extra.”

“Okay...” He covered his face with his hands, then sighed. “J.J., how about you help your mom build some kind of pen, and I’ll help your sister bring the chickens inside—”

LeeAnn shuffled through the back door, carrying a hen under each arm. “It’s freezing out there, and a branch knocked a hole in the roof.”

Millie groaned, looking heavenward to ask, “Really? Our plates aren’t already full enough?”

“Relax.” Behind her, Cooper lightly rubbed her shoulders. “We’ll keep the chickens inside until the storm passes, then, after our next supply run, I’ll rig a lamp for them in one of the empty horse stalls in the barn. Hopefully, the coop shouldn’t take but a day or two to fix.”

“Sure. Thanks.” She didn’t want to find comfort in his take-charge demeanor and especially not from his touch, but how could she not when it felt as if she’d been running uphill ever since Clint’s stroke? To now have a man around to do the stereotypically manly chores made her feel as if her uphill charge had, at least for the time being, transitioned to a stroll through a nice, flat meadow. Call her old-fashioned, but when it came to gender roles, she missed doing mostly so-called woman’s work. “J.J., hon, do me a favor and run out to get some firewood. Pretend it’s giant Lincoln Logs and build a little fence.”

“Cool! That sounds fun!” He dashed outside.

LeeAnn had placed the ladder-backed table chairs in front of the living room and hall pass-throughs. She was such a good girl. Always eager to help. It broke Millie’s heart to see her always so blue—even more so ever since Cooper had shown up. Would she eventually cut him some slack?

Millie glanced his way to find him bundled up, once again wearing Jim’s duster. He’d slapped his hat on, and the mere sight of him took her breath away. She wanted to stay mad at him for having left all those years ago, but she lacked the energy to fight.

“I’ll bring in the rest of the hens then check on the cattle.”

“Thank you,” she said to him, then again to her daughter, who’d cleaned poo with a damp paper towel.

Cold air lingered when Cooper left. It smelled crisp and clean. Of cautious hope.

“He’s awful,” LeeAnn said after Cooper had closed the door. “I wish he’d stayed away.”

“I’m sorry about what you saw between him and Grandpa. When your grandma died, things were...” Where did she start in explaining to her little girl just how terrible Clint’s grief had actually been? True, what’d happened to Kay had been an accident, but Clint had treated his elder son as if the tragedy had been no less than murder. The uglier details weren’t the sort of matter she cared to casually discuss with her daughter. “Well... Things were really hard. And Grandpa and your uncle... They didn’t get along. Your uncle didn’t leave because he wanted to, but because Grandpa made him.”

LeeAnn furrowed her brows. “Grandpa Clint wouldn’t do that. He’s nice.”

“Sure, he is. But, honey, remember that this all happened a long time ago. Way before you were even born. Your uncle has a right to be upset. So does Grandpa. The two of them have a lot of talking to do, but that’s kind of hard with Grandpa not being able to talk.” Millie would be lying if she didn’t admit to also harboring a deep well of resentment toward her husband’s brother. But acting on that now wouldn’t get the chickens in from the cold or make sure the cattle were okay or perform Clint’s morning bathing routine.

“Mom?” LeeAnn picked up a chicken, stroking her neck until the creature happily cooed. Millie thought it was Cluck—the kids had them all named, but she couldn’t keep them straight. “Do you still miss Daddy?”

The question caught Millie off guard and raised a lump in her throat. “Of course. I think about him every day.”

“Good.” She set down the chicken to hug Millie. “I didn’t like it when Uncle Cooper rubbed your shoulders the way Daddy used to. My friend Julie’s mom and dad got divorced, and now her mom married some new guy who Julie doesn’t like. I don’t want you to be with anyone else.”

“Honey, where is all of this coming from?” Millie tipped up LeeAnn’s chin, searching her dear features. “Your father meant the world to me. He always will.”

“Promise?”

Millie had just nodded when J.J. and Cooper laughed their way through the back door. Both carried squawking hens and were red-cheeked and coated in a dusting of snow. The vision of her smiley son warmed her more efficiently than a roaring fire. As for the fire in her belly Cooper’s whisker-stubbled jaw evoked, well, she just wasn’t going there.

“You should see it, Mom!” J.J.’s nose ran, so she handed him a paper towel to use to wipe it. “That tree smooshed the chicken coop like Godzilla! Bam! Rwaar!”

“It’s that bad?” she asked Cooper.

“’Fraid so.” His expression was grim. “It’s a wonder none of the occupants were hurt.”

A series of muffled growls erupted from Clint’s room.

Millie punctuated those with her own groan.

“Want me to check on him?” Cooper offered.

“Thanks, but the mom in me thinks you two should be grounded from each other.”

Judging by Cooper’s scowl, he disagreed with her judgment. “Whatever. J.J.? Wanna check the cattle with me?”

“Yeah!” His supersize grin faded. “But I need to build the chicken fence first. Can you wait?”

“I’ll do you one better—while you work on the fence, I’ll grab some plywood and straw from the barn. We’ll use it to protect your mom’s floor until we rig a heat lamp in the barn.”

“Okay!” J.J. dashed outside for more wood.

“Cooper...” Millie’s mind reeled. Too much was happening too fast. LeeAnn making her promise to never love another man besides Jim. Chickens in her kitchen. J.J.’s instant connection with his uncle. LeeAnn’s instant hatred of him. Toss Clint and way too much snow into the mix and Millie’s plate wasn’t just full, but spilling over onto her now filthy kitchen floor. “Do you think it’s wise to take J.J. out to check the cattle?”

“Why wouldn’t it be? He’s already bundled up. I assume he can ride?”

“Well, sure. Jim had him on horseback practically since he learned to walk.”

Cooper sighed. “Then what’s the problem?”

Where did she start? Her son was beyond precious to her. Along with his sister, the duo had been her reason for living ever since Jim died. As much as one part of her appreciated Cooper riding in on his white horse disguised as a ratty old pickup, another part of her resented his very presence. She and Clint had managed on their own for all these years and didn’t need Cooper showing up, thinking he had all the answers. Only the joke was on her, because at the moment, as overwhelmed as she was—he did.

A fact that scared her to her core.

Because Cooper might be a dependable, stand-up guy in the Navy. But when it came to his track record on being around when his family needed him most? His stats were an abysmal 1-288-0. A single, early-morning chicken rescue hardly made him a trustworthy man.