The Cowboy's Homecoming (6 page)

Beth backed the truck up the same way Jeremy had earlier. She turned and headed back in the direction of the Hanson farm.

And she prayed, because God wasn't the dictator that Chance had wanted her to believe. God hadn't forced her to stay in a marriage that kept her prisoner to a man who beat her and locked her in the bathroom when she talked about leaving.

God hadn't wanted that for her. And now she was free. She was free and she knew that God heard her prayers.

Sirens behind her warned that the emergency crews were on the way. She pulled to the side of the road and allowed the big yellow truck and first responder rescue
unit to pass. She followed them up the long, rutted driveway that led to the Hansons' place.

When they pulled up to the barn, Keira jumped out of the truck. One of the first responders stopped her. She fought against him, wanting to get close to the barn.

Beth hurried to her side. “Keira, let them find him. If we stay back, they'll be able to work more quickly.”

Keira slumped against Beth's side. “I can't do this. I can't stand here and I can't breathe.”

“Sit down.” Beth eased the woman to the ground. “Slow down, breathe easy so you don't pass out. When they find Mark, he needs to see you here, waiting for him. He's going to need for you to be calm.”

Keira nodded but she was still gasping, still sobbing. And Beth wasn't going to tell her she shouldn't be upset. She would be frantic if it was someone she loved in that barn.

She scanned the area, looking for Jeremy. She spotted him, pulling boards off the building. He'd pulled on leather work gloves and he ripped at metal from the caved-in roof. He turned, as if he knew she was watching. His smile was weary, his T-shirt soaked with perspiration. She curled her fingers around the cuffs of the shirt he'd given her.

He pulled off more boards and then went down on all fours and crawled into the hole he'd made. Beth wrapped her arms around a sobbing Keira and held her close.

“They'll find him,” Beth whispered, to herself and to assure Keira.

Seconds ticked by and then minutes. Beth glanced at her watch. The tornado had hit more than two hours earlier. She tried not to think about how seriously injured Mark might be and what that amount of time
meant to him. She closed her eyes and prayed they'd find him soon.

Boards and metal scraps were being tossed aside. Men worked with crowbars and anything else they could find to move the rubble of the barn. Neighbors had shown up to help.

“Here he is.” Jeremy shouted the alarm from somewhere under the pile of lumber.

Keira jumped up, wobbling. Beth held on to her arm.

“Keira, we have to stay back.”

They watched as several men ran to join Jeremy, who had backed out of the tunnel he'd made in the rubble of the barn. An ambulance pulled closer. Its blue lights flashed. The crew moved silently, pulling medical equipment and a stretcher from the back of the vehicle.

The first responders continued to remove the rubble that covered the area where Jeremy had found Mark Hanson.

“He's going to be fine.” Beth held on to Keira, who was a few years older than herself. Life hadn't been easy for the Hansons. Keira had suffered three miscarriages in the last few years. Mark had lost his job.

Beth swallowed, pushed aside doubt. And then there was a shout. They had Mark. They were talking to him. And then they were easing him out of the mangled pile of wood and metal that used to be their barn. As he lay on the ground, he turned, looking for his wife.

Keira tore loose from Beth's arms and ran to her husband. They hugged and Keira kissed his face, kissed his head. The paramedics stabilized his leg while Keira held his hand. And Beth wanted to laugh and cry, all
at once. Salty tears trickled down her cheeks and she wiped them away with the back of her hand.

Faith. A couple that held on to each other.

Beth searched the crowd for Jeremy.

 

Jeremy pulled off his gloves and walked toward Beth. He smiled at the tear-stained face and wavering smile that greeted him.

“Looks like he has a broken leg, but he'll be fine.”

Beth sniffled. “Yeah, but how can they take one more blow? They've lost babies, lost his job. What if they lose this farm, too?”

“It looks to me like they'll be happy to have each other.”

“I get that, but seriously, how many times can a couple get knocked down?”

Boy, she was going for the jugular. “I don't know, Beth.”

“No, you don't. I'm sorry.”

“Look, I know you're upset about the church. But I can give Mark Hanson a job when I get the shop built. Once he's recovered, I can put him to work.”

She looked up at him, her brown eyes huge and tears spilling out again, running down her cheeks. “You're cut and you're limping.”

“I got tangled in some sheet metal when I was digging through that mess. And the limp is old news and nothing a few aspirin won't fix.”

Beth reached for his hand and led him back to his truck. He thought about pulling away from her, but he didn't listen to his good sense very often. This time he completely kicked it to the curb.

If good sense meant cutting loose from Beth Brad
shaw, he didn't need it right now. There'd be time for regret later.

She opened the door of his truck and pulled out a first aid kit. While he stood there like an idiot, she wiped his cuts. Her fingers were gentle, touching his arm and then his cheek. She pulled out a butterfly bandage for his arm, the deeper of the two cuts.

“It's just a scratch on your face, but the cut on your arm might need stitches.”

“I'm sure it's fine.” He swallowed as she settled the adhesive strip in place.

“There, all done.”

“Thank you.”

Her hand was still on his arm, her touch sweeter than honey. She sniffled and stared up at him. “You'd really give him a job?”

“Beth, I know this might be news to you, but I'm not the enemy.” He let out a heavy sigh. “I'm not the enemy.”

He brushed his fingers across her cheek and wiped away the tears that had spilled out again.

“I know you're not. But the church…”

He rubbed his hand across his face and waited. He could walk away. He could tell her he didn't want to discuss this with her. But those big brown eyes were looking up, intent, searching. She was all kinds of trouble he hadn't expected.

“I know it doesn't make sense, Beth. But I'm a long way from being that poor kid that went to Back Street. Then again, I'm not. I'm still the kid who stole vegetables from neighbors' gardens, and worked until bedtime to buy what we needed.”

The words kind of surprised him because he'd never
said them aloud to anyone. She had stripped away his control with soft questions and tear-filled eyes.

Jeremy reached into the truck for his hat and pushed it down on his head, calling himself a few choice names. Beth was standing in front of him, teary-eyed and tired. She didn't need an info dump.

“Beth, I'm sorry.”

She shook her head. “No, I am. It was my fault for pushing you.”

“No, it wasn't. You said what everyone else has been thinking and maybe you're right. But I guess that doesn't mean I'm going to change my mind.”

“I know and I do understand.” And then she smiled, bright as summer sunshine after a storm. A storm like the one they'd just been through. “But I am going to stop you.”

“I don't know how. It's my land and I'm all set. I just have to get the final permit from planning and zoning.”

Her brows shot up and her expression changed, making him wonder. He had a bad feeling. No one knew small-town politics better than he did. He'd been dealing with the city of Dawson for weeks, trying to get things squared away so he could move forward.

“We should go.” Right, they should go. And he figured he should plan on a battle for the church.

“I can drive you to your house now, if you want.”

“My truck is at the church.”

“Gotcha.”

The ambulance was pulling away. As it headed down the drive, a few trucks pulled up. Jeremy knew it was time to hit the road as Tim Cooper and several of his sons got out of one of their big Ford F-350s.

“Let's hit the road.” Jeremy walked around to the tailgate of his truck. He'd left tools out that he needed to store in the box before they left.

Before he could get them all in the toolbox, someone called his name. He turned as Reese Cooper headed in his direction. Tim Cooper stood next to the truck Reese had gotten out of. Jeremy nodded at the other man. They shared DNA, that was it.

The day after Jeremy's mother interrupted services at Back Street Church to tell the world who her son's father was, Tim Cooper had offered Jeremy a big check. Not an apology, just a check. Jeremy had ripped the paper into pieces and walked away. He'd made the grand announcement that he'd do just fine on his own. He'd gotten a scholarship to ride on a college rodeo team. He'd already made some money riding bulls. He didn't need anything the Coopers had.

He skipped another glance in the direction of Tim Cooper before he switched back and focused on Reese. At one time he had needed family. By the time he turned eighteen that need had been left in the dust.

Reese stopped in front of him. Younger by just a couple of years, Reese was one of the more serious members of the Cooper clan. He didn't have Jackson's attitude or ladies'-man personality. He wasn't a clown like Travis. He wasn't full of himself like Blake. He wasn't nearly as likable, in Jeremy's opinion, as Jesse.

“How's Mark?” Reese rocked back on his heels a little.

“Broken leg.”

Reese nodded. He shot a nervous glance in the direction of his father and then landed his direct gaze back
on Jeremy. “Need some help getting a shelter set up at Back Street?”

Jeremy shrugged. “I don't have a clue, Reese. I'm not sure who all will be there or what needs to be done. I'm heading that way now to see where to start.”

“We'll be over to help.” It was a statement, not a question. The younger man didn't leave room for objections. Jeremy smiled a little easier. Reese Cooper was his half brother. He respected him for cowboying up and not backing down.

“That's fine, Reese.” Jeremy shot a look past Reese, in the direction of Tim and a couple of his sons. “Tell your dad he can stay home.”

Reese opened his mouth and closed it pretty quickly. “Sure, I'll tell him. Hey, I joined the army. I'm going to basic next week.”

Respect. Jeremy slapped Reese on the back. “That's amazing.”

“Yeah, well, a friend of mine from Tulsa went over a few years ago. He didn't make it back.”

“You'll make it back, Reese.” Beth stepped into the conversation. She hugged Reese tight. “We'll have a big party when you come home.”

“I'm counting on that, Beth.” Reese stepped back from the two of them. He tipped his hat in farewell and walked back to the Coopers.

“Girls.” Jeremy twirled his fingers in the end of Beth's brown hair, letting the silken strands slip through his hand. He wanted to bury his fingers in the dark strands and taste the gloss she'd pulled from her pocket and swiped across her lips just moments earlier.

She wrinkled her nose at him, the way she'd done
way back when. It should have undone thoughts of kissing her, it didn't.

“Girls?” She smiled and her left brow arched a little higher than the right. “What does that mean?”

“Yeah, girls. You're sappy and sweet, and you smell good.” He leaned in a little, proving to himself that his words were right on the mark.

She was wearing his shirt and she smelled like some flowery shampoo, making this feel a lot more complicated than he'd expected.

“That isn't what you used to say.” She whispered the words so softly it snagged his heart.

“Yeah, I was a dumb kid who thought girls were gross.”

“I remember.”

She walked away, glancing back over her shoulder. He laughed a little and followed her to the truck. She already had her door open and was climbing in when he got there.

“Beth, someday I hope you'll forgive me.”

She cocked her head to one side as she buckled the seat belt. “Jeremy, I hope you'll forgive yourself and a lot of other people.”

He closed the door and as he walked around to his side, he glanced across the lawn to the group of Coopers who were busy cleaning up the debris-strewn lawn. Yeah, he had people to forgive.

 

The driveway up to the Bradshaw ranch was lined with trees, all of which were still standing. Jeremy turned and headed up the long blacktop lane toward the big brick house where Beth had grown up. Halfway
to the church Beth had asked to stop and check on her family.

“You can relax,” she said, dimples in her cheeks punctuating a smile that hit him in the midsection. Sweeter than a speckled pup; he'd once heard an old-timer use that expression about his wife when he'd met her.

“Relax?” He rolled his shoulders and tried to pretend he didn't have a clue what she meant by that.

“You're all tense. Do you think my dad is going to jerk you out of the truck and tell you to stay away from his little girl?”

He glanced her way and winked. “The thought did cross my mind.”

He was a dozen years beyond that scraggly kid with the holey jeans and the second-hand boots.

“He'll be too distracted to think about it.” She smiled and rolled down the truck window. “He's dating someone, I think.”

“I guess that's good.” He slowed to a stop in front of the house. “Here we are.”

He was acting like a kid on his first date. They both knew where they were, and this was anything but a date. The knots in his gut weren't about Beth Bradshaw. That twisted-up feeling was about the turn of events that had put his plans on hold.