“We’ll walk down Main and eat by the window at the hotel, then I’ll walk you right back here. You’ll be safe, and your brother only has to look around to know where you are. I promise to have you back at your door by sundown.”
To Cooper’s surprise, Mary turned without answering and lifted her shawl from a peg.
He offered his arm. Of all the things he’d thought of telling her, the topics he had wanted to discuss, the questions he wondered about her life, Cooper did not say a word as they walked down the street.
After ordering two of the café’s specials and coffee, they sat by the window as he’d promised, eating their meal in silence. He guessed they should be talking, but all he could think about was how good she smelled and how he enjoyed the comfort of her near. She was so different from any woman he’d ever met. She was the first female he’d ever thought of as a friend.
The sun’s dying glow lit the street as they strolled back toward the store. Cooper decided that somewhere over the past six years of living alone he must have lost all ability to communicate. Unless he counted “Pass the gravy” or “Would you like some pie?” he hadn’t thought of a thing to say to her. At this rate he would stand around all day at his sisters’ big party and just stare at the eligible women from all over the county. He pictured them walking past him, gawking at him or, worse, pitying him as a fool. Picking a bride wasn’t like bobbing for apples. At some point he would have to talk to the woman he planned to marry. What chance would he have if he could not even think of something to say to Mary?
“I’ve never been much of a talker,” he said aloud.
“I guessed that.” She tried to hide a smile.
He rested his hand over her fingers on his arm. “You don’t mind the silence?”
As always, she was kind. “I don’t mind.”
“Then, we should be great friends?” He liked the idea. Friends didn’t make him exactly a ladies’ man, but at least it was a start.
“We are friends.” She lifted the hem of her skirt as they stepped onto the porch in front of the mercantile. “Thank you for dinner.”
“You’re welcome.” Cooper watched her unlock the store. “If you ever need me, Mary, you’ll let me know.” When she glanced back at him, he added, “That’s what friends do. They watch out for one another.”
“I promise. And you’ll do the same?”
“Cross my heart.” Cooper tipped his hat and walked away.
Mary stepped inside, humming softly. He’d done it again, she thought. He’d made her feel like she had her own private guardian angel. Someone watching over her. Someone caring.
She started into the dark corners of the cluttered store. Unwanted memories crept out to greet her, reminding her of another time. Even the glow of the sun had disappeared that night. The store had been quite like it was now. She came down from the apartment above to retrieve a book she’d forgotten and noticed the door standing open. Dirt blew in from the street, thickening the air. Before she could reach the lock, she heard the jingle of spurs and a moment later she was fighting for her life.
The attacker swore she asked for it as he pulled at her clothes. She had talked to a stranger that afternoon, even flirted a little. The cowhand had laughed as she screamed, accusing her of playing with him before he smothered her mouth with his and ended her cries.
Now, the fear from that night choked Mary.
She couldn’t remember how many times she had broken free and screamed. Once, twice. Miles hurried down the stairs to help. But at the bottom step, he hesitated. He froze, without reacting, allowing the stranger’s two friends to attack.
Mary glanced over at the counter, pushing the memories aside. Trying not to remember the way they had beat him without Miles ever landing a blow. He’d just stood there, like a man made of straw, while they’d took turns hitting him. If someone hadn’t walked by the open door and shouted for help, Miles might have died and she didn’t even want to think what might have happened to her.
Trying to remember to breathe, she fought the memory, forcing herself to look around the room, to see that there was no one in the shadows waiting.
Cooper’s spurs reflected in the dying light, pulling her back to the present. He had taken them off and placed them on the counter without thinking her silly or asking questions. He’d done it simply because she had asked.
On impulse, she grabbed the spurs and ran out the door. She was halfway to the post office before she realized she wasn’t running away from her fears this time, but to something. To him.
Cooper stood next to his horse, checking the saddle’s straps. He decided he might ride into town again in a week or so and see if she’d go to dinner with him a second time. The food at the hotel wasn’t nearly as fine as his sisters cooked but his ears sure enjoyed the rest.
The tapping sound of someone running across the boardwalk registered a moment before he glanced up. Mary ran off the end of the walk. Cooper raised his arms just in time to catch her in flight.
She held tightly as he swung her down beside him. He pulled her close, breathing in her nearness with deep hungry breaths.
The shadows of buildings hid them from prying eyes, but he wouldn’t have cared if the entire town saw them. Cooper held her inside the circle of his arms, feeling her heart beat against his own, surprised at how glad he was to see her once more even though it had only been minutes since he had left her at her doorstep.
Slowly, she relaxed, but she didn’t pull away.
“Are you all right?” he whispered into her hair, fearing that someone might have bothered her again.
“Yes.” Her answer was muffled by a nervous laugh against his throat. “I just brought you the spurs you left. I was afraid…” She held tighter. “I was afraid I’d missed you.”
Sliding his hand along her arm, he took them from her fingers. “It’s all right,” he said as he looped the spurs over the saddle horn. “I would have returned.”
Stepping a few inches away, she remained close. “Would you do me a favor as a friend?”
“Of course.” He patted her shoulder, liking that they were now good enough friends to touch. “Name it. I’m at your service.”
“Would you mind terribly kissing me good night?”
Cooper didn’t answer. He couldn’t answer. How could he tell her that he wasn’t sure he felt about her that way? She was his friend. He admired her intelligence. He enjoyed her company. He looked forward to seeing her. He even liked the way she smelled, but he didn’t feel about her the way a man should about a woman he kissed.
He leaned forward and lightly brushed her cheek with his lips.
Mary vanished into the darkness as quickly as she’d appeared. Like a rush of wind, she was gone, leaving only the slight sound of an escaped sob behind.
It took Cooper a moment to realize what he’d done. Dear God, he hadn’t meant to hurt her. She’d been asking for something else, something more.
He ran toward the store, but as he neared he saw Miles Woodburn unloading a wagon, limping back and forth. It was too late to talk to Mary. Too late to say he was sorry.
Chapter Ten
ANY HOPE COOPER had of finding time to apologize to Mary evaporated in the frantic days that followed. He’d agreed that the final cattle drive before winter would start from the natural corral on his land called Echo Canyon. As each rancher brought in his small herd, Cooper had to be there to help. For many of his neighbors the success of this drive would mean surviving the winter without having to go to Dallas to find work.
His sisters planned the country ball for the night before all the men had to leave so there would be enough dance partners for every single woman. The big day arrived on Saturday amid cloudy skies and high spirits. Ranchers and their families started pulling onto Cooper’s land by midmorning.