Daisies in the Canyon (9 page)

Her eyes popped open so quick that the room was a blur until she could get things into focus. Bonnie bumped her knee under the table and when she glanced across the table, the insolent little shit winked as if she could read her mind.

Abby felt a blush starting on the nape of her neck. She downed half a glass of sweet tea trying to cool down from the inside, but be damned if Cooper’s leg didn’t touch hers under the table. She inhaled deeply, mentally tore down her Glock and reassembled it four times before she got control. Not once in all her life had a man affected her like Cooper Wilson. Not even the blue-eyed boy who’d been her first love while she was in high school. Or any of the military guys, and she’d always been a sucker for a man in a uniform.

“Save room for dessert,” Shiloh said. “I made iced brownies, but I didn’t know if everyone liked chocolate, so I put together an apple pie, too. Figured if we didn’t eat it for dinner, we’d have it for supper and as a bedtime snack.”

“I like both,” Rusty said.

“Me, too.” Cooper nodded.

“Lord, I’m going to have to take up jogging with Abby if we keep eating like this,” Bonnie said.

“I’m not runnin’ anymore. I figure as hard as we work, it’s as good as any workout program,” Abby said. “I’m having ice cream on both my brownie and my apple pie. I could never choose between those two desserts.”

Shiloh smiled. “Well, thank you, Abby. There’s plenty for everyone to have both. I cut the pie into six pieces and the brownies into a dozen.”

“You done good on these dinner rolls, Shiloh. You’ll have to teach me how to make them. Last time I tried, Abby could have used them as weapons of mass destruction,” Bonnie said.

“It’s in the technique, not the recipe. Maybe next Sunday we’ll make up a batch for cinnamon rolls just for practice.”

It was probably too late in the game for either of those women to be her sisters, but they could be her friends. She’d always made friends at every base she’d been assigned to. In the military a soldier needed friends to have his or her back. Sometimes when she left, she kept in touch with the people she’d known, but most of the time in the transitory world she’d occupied for twelve years, she’d simply moved on. This could be the latter. When the year was up, they might send a Christmas card occasionally or even call once in a while for the first year, but they’d move on. Still, it would make the year a lot more pleasant if they were friends.

Were they both struggling as much as she was? Shiloh had reached out to her, but Abby was the oldest, so she should have made the first gesture. And she should have made Bonnie feel comfortable enough that she didn’t feel threatened.

Ezra had caused all of this by pitting them against each other. The smart thing to do if she wanted to thwart him was simply to work at getting along with her sisters. That would make the old fart turn over in his grave and start digging his way up out of that cemetery.

Even if we all three stick around, it doesn’t mean everything will be rosy and peachy
, the voice said.

Her mama had told her often, especially after a big argument, that anytime two people live together every hour of every day there will be disagreements. It didn’t matter if it was a mother/daughter, girlfriend/boyfriend, or friend/friend relationship. Hollywood made millions off that very thing, because it was real life.

Friends like Rusty and Cooper?
she asked herself as she listened to them talking about how much more hay Malloy Ranch would produce with the acreage they were clearing. In that moment she decided that she wanted to be more than Christmas-card friends with her sisters. She wanted a friendship with them like Rusty and Cooper had with each other.

Bonnie reached for the bread basket. “Wouldn’t it be great if that mesquite we’re uprootin’ could be used for something other than firewood?”

“If it could, we’d all be rich,” Abby said.

“Now if that didn’t sound just like Ezra,” Rusty chuckled.

Abby bristled, then relaxed. She couldn’t run from her heritage. She didn’t have to like it, but it was there forever as surely as the blonde hair she’d gotten from her mother. She glanced sideways at Cooper and for the first time in her life wished she had been born with flaming-red hair and had grown up to be a tall woman.

Chapter Seven

A
bonfire was a bonfire, whether it was on the beach or on the backside of a ranch in a deep canyon. To Abby that meant s’mores and hot dogs. Since there were no hot dogs, buns, or relish in the house, that left s’mores and she had the makings for those in her snack suitcase: chocolate bars, marshmallows, and graham crackers. Sometimes she had roasted a marshmallow over a candle to make one for herself when she was in Afghanistan.

Bonnie drove the tractor that afternoon and did a fine job of uprooting the mesquite trees. Shiloh, Rusty, and Abby took on the business of cleaning up the debris left behind and tossing it onto the two huge brush piles.

“Are we going to set fire to both of these things this evening?” Shiloh asked.

Rusty motioned for Abby to help him with a big limb. “Yes, we are. When Bonnie gets finished with those trees over by the wall of the canyon, we’ll remove the front blade and add a tiller to the back. One of you is going to plow two widths around the whole area. That way the fire won’t get loose and jump the fence onto the Lucky Seven.”

“Why wasn’t this land cleared before now?” Abby asked.

“Not enough help. Ezra was a tight old fart. Until that last two months, he didn’t want help and he damn sure wasn’t paying anyone but me. Even then, he bitched about writing my paycheck every single week,” Rusty said.

“So it wasn’t a happy relationship?”

“I wouldn’t say that. We understood each other.” Rusty flashed one of his rare bright smiles. “Ezra bitched and I bitched back. He was the grandpa I never had and I loved the old shit, even if he was cantankerous, opinionated, and determined, just like his three daughters. And both of you can stop shooting dirty looks at me. You can like it or not, but it’s the truth. Every one of you is like him in one way or the other, but all of you got his temper and his determination.”

“Hey, I’m glad you didn’t start without me,” Cooper yelled from the other side of the barbed-wire fence.

Abby spun around just in time to see him put a hand on one of the fence posts and clear the wire by several inches when he jumped over it. He’d changed into a stained work coat and faded jeans that fit tightly over his butt.

Her heart pitched in an extra beat when he got close enough she could see his face clearly beneath his black cowboy hat. He removed his coat and went right to work. The sleeves of his brown-and-yellow plaid flannel shirt strained at the seams when he picked up one of the biggest logs on the ground. She remembered well the way she’d felt when he slipped those arms around her waist—excited, protected, safe—even when they were tumbling off the sofa . . .

God, she needed a bite of chocolate or a butterscotch candy, but her pockets were empty. The s’mores makings were in a bag in the front seat of the truck, but she couldn’t dip into those.

Suddenly, the only noise was the chirping of a few birds going to roost and a lonesome old coyote howling in the far distance. The tractor had stopped and Bonnie bailed out, went to the front, and started messing with the attachment in the front.

“Okay, time to change the blade to the plow. Pay attention,” Rusty said.

“Will we be tested?” Shiloh asked.

“No test, but you only get one lesson, so learn it well,” Rusty said.

“Yes, sir.” Abby saluted smartly.

“You do that again and I won’t teach you jack shit,” Rusty said.

“Why?” Bonnie took a step forward.

“Because she’s being insolent just like Ezra, and believe me that was one of the things I didn’t like about him. I hated it when he talked down to me,” Rusty said. “Understand?”

Abby’s head bobbed up and down. If she’d been that pissy to any one of her training officers in the military, she’d have spent time cleaning the bathrooms with a toothbrush. She deserved the dressing-down, even in front of the other two, but it didn’t make it sting any less.

“You’re right, Rusty. That was rude and disrespectful. It won’t happen again,” she said.

“I’ll show them how to get things changed,” Cooper said. “Want me to plow a couple of circles around the fire?”

“No, I want Abby to do that,” Rusty said.

“Punishment,” Shiloh said under her breath as they headed toward the tractor.

“I deserve it,” Abby said.

“Then I’ll ride with her and teach her the method.” Cooper jogged ahead of them.

“You’ve done this before, haven’t you, Bonnie?” he said when he reached the tractor.

“Couple of times on an older tractor. Not much difference, though.”

“It’s pretty simple. Just unhitch, push the blade out of the way. Here, Abby, help me,” he said.

“How much does this thing weigh?” she asked.

“Somewhere around a hundred and fifty pounds. Too heavy for you?”

“No, I can do it.” She bent her knees and on Cooper’s count to three, they picked it up and moved it a few feet away from the tractor.

Cooper was close enough that every burst of breeze brought the remnants of his shaving lotion to her, but not so close that their bodies or hands touched. Still, the air crackled around them like it does just before a storm and she had to remind herself that he was there to help as a neighbor and Rusty’s friend. He hadn’t jumped the fence for her.

“Now, Bonnie, hop back in that tractor seat, turn it around, and back it right up to the plow attachment beside the truck,” he said.

Without a word she scrambled back up into the tractor and eased it toward the plow. Cooper jogged over in that direction and motioned with his hand until she was close enough, then he put up a palm.

“Good job,” he said. “Abby, we’ll have to get it lined up, but she did well enough that we’ll only have to move it about six inches to the left. It weighs a little less than the box blade.”

Abby picked up one end and he got a hold of the other and together they lined it up so it could be attached. Cooper didn’t tell her she’d done a good job like he had Bonnie, but that was okay. The way he squeezed her hand when they got the thing fastened said that he approved.

Bonnie was back on the ground in a minute, everywhere at once, helping get the plow situated. “So how many times do I plow around the bonfire?”

“Rusty says I have to do it,” Abby said.

“She’s being punished.” Shiloh leaned against the tractor tire and watched the procedure carefully.

“What for?”

“Insubordination, and I deserve it,” Abby said. “I was being a smart-ass and I got called down for it.”

“Takes a big person to take correction,” Cooper said.

“Takes a foolish person to need it,” Abby said.

“Is that a quote?” Bonnie asked.

“Yes, ma’am. Straight from my mama,” Abby answered.

“Okay, Abby, you take the driver’s seat and I’ll get in the passenger’s side,” Cooper said.

“What is going on between you and Cooper? There’s definite vibes every time he’s around,” Bonnie whispered when he circled around the back side of the tractor.

“I’m not sure. It’s complicated,” Abby whispered back.

“I bet it is.” Bonnie nodded.

“Ever driven one of these before?” Cooper asked when she was settled.

“Not exactly, but I reckon if I can learn to drive a tank, I can learn this thing,” she answered.

She put her hand on the gear stick and he covered it with his. Her first reaction was to jerk it free, but she took a deep breath and reminded herself that this was a driving lesson not a romantic episode. And yet, there was that sizzle that set her insides to yearning for the satisfaction that only Cooper could deliver.

“Not yet,” he said. “First make sure the PTO—or power takeoff—is on one, because you are pulling a plow, not pushing a box blade. That’s the lever over there to your left.” He removed his hand and pointed. “It’s on one right now, but you want to check it every time and adjust it according to the job. Now, see that lever right there. It’s got a high and a low range. High is for when you are driving the tractor home in the evening. You want low range when you are plowing the field.”

“Okay, now what?”

“Ever driven a stick-shift vehicle? Maybe one with a trailer on the back?”

“Yes, I have in the army.”

“Good, then the rest is pretty much like that. You’ve got four forward gears and a reverse. You’ll probably want to work in first or second, and remember you are never shifting when you are on the move.”

It took every bit of her concentration to think about what he was saying.

“Repeat all that back to me,” he said.

“This one goes to one when we are plowing. This one is on low and keep it in first or second gear because we want to go slow.”

“And use the clutch,” he said. “Now it’s time to go.”

She took a deep breath, clutched, and put her hand on the gear stick. It sounded like she was tearing the thing apart and she looked over at Cooper.

“Clutch is tight. Push it all the way to the floor to engage the damn thing,” he said.

She did and the noise stopped. Everything was in place, so she shifted her foot to the gas pedal and they took off so fast that Cooper was thrown backward.

“Slow down. We’re going to plow, not run a race,” he said.

She pulled her foot back a little. “Like this?”

“Yes, now drop the plow with that lever right there,” he said.

It didn’t take long to make two rows around the brush pile, but it was a hell of a lot harder than it looked and she was damn glad that Cooper had showed her the ropes. Instead of looking like a perfect square when she finished, it resembled a child’s drawing of a circle.

“Now drive the tractor over there on the other side of the truck and park it. Remember to clutch when you put it out of gear,” Cooper said. “And Abby, we need to talk about this thing between us.”

“Right now?”

“No, but soon.”

“I told you it would be awkward,” she said.

“But that’s just the point. It’s not,” he told her.

“And that makes it awkward, right?” she asked.

“I don’t think so, but it’s definitely something we need to discuss. Alone. With more than five minutes to spare.”

“Okay, then.” She opened the door. She looked forward to talking to him and yet dreaded it at the same time. The last time they were alone, they’d gotten themselves into this situation. She couldn’t even control her thoughts now, so it would be a devil of a job to control her actions if they were alone again.

“You’ll get better with practice. I should’ve told you that clutch was tight,” Bonnie said the minute Abby’s feet were on the ground.

Abby wiped her forehead with the sleeve of her jacket. “How’d you know so much about this?”

“Told you before, my mama’s folks had a little farm down in the holler. Grandpa taught me to drive a tractor when I was so young that I had to sit on two pillows. My first plowin’ job didn’t look a bit better than that.”

So Bonnie wouldn’t be quitting the race, not when she was more qualified than either of the other two sisters. But that did not mean Abby couldn’t learn. Before spring her plowing would be so sharp that she could write messages in the red dirt that could be seen from satellites.

“Since we have to be out here to watch the fires, I packed a picnic,” Shiloh said. “I brought leftover roast beef sandwiches, chips, brownies, and a gallon of sweet tea. It’s in the truck, so when the fire is lit we could have a tailgate party.”

“Bless your heart,” Rusty said.

“I brought stuff to make s’mores,” Abby said.

“I brought one hell of a healthy appetite.” Bonnie laughed.

“Looks like you hardworkin’ ranchin’ ladies thought of everything, and we thank you,” Rusty said.

Cooper had gotten out of the tractor on the other side and smiled as he passed by her on the way to the tailgate supper. Her breath caught with a hitch in her chest. Just watching him walk sent desire spiraling. It wasn’t a damn bit fair, but there it was right in front of her and it couldn’t be denied. She could attribute it to funeral nerves, to physical attraction, to lots of things, but it still shouldn’t have happened. Even if she’d wanted it to and even if she wanted it to happen again—like in the next five minutes.

Shiloh brought out her loaded paper sack and a roll of paper towels. Bonnie carried the gallon jug of iced sweet tea and five plastic cups and Abby picked up the small sack she’d shoved the s’mores items into. While they set up on the old truck’s tailgate, the two cowboys lit up the brush piles. In minutes flames reached for the top of the canyon and heat found its way to the tailgate party.

Cooper grabbed three ziplock bags containing sandwiches and poured himself a glass of tea. He sat down on the cold ground, leaned back against the truck tire, and started eating.

Rusty picked up two sandwiches, a bag of potato chips, and a glass of iced tea and sat down on the edge of the tailgate next to the brownies. “Got to protect my dessert here.”

“We’re havin’ s’mores. Didn’t you hear Abby?” Bonnie asked.

“I like those things just fine, but not as much as I like these brownies.” Rusty grinned.

“Bring your sandwich over here, Abby. You can sit on the running board,” Cooper said.

“I told you so,” Bonnie whispered.

Abby shook her head at Bonnie. “You have a big imagination.”