Wandering Heart

Wandering
Heart

By Rita
Hestand

Smashwords
edition

Copyright 2009
Rita Hestand

Smashwords
Edition

License
Note

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Dedication

To all women
who dream of finding Mr Right, your soul mate this book is
dedicated to you. For I had a soul mate for 25 years, and I know
exactly how it feels. Good luck to you and may

God Bless! Rita
Hestand

Wandering
Heart

CHAPTER
ONE

Angela Cummings
let out a muffled wail, as John Wayne stood above the rocks
watching his mother's funeral in The Sons of Katie Elder, a little
old man half turned in his seat to shush her from a couple of
aisles down. She didn't know him personally, but she'd seen him in
the theatre before.

"Sorry," she
muttered, swiping at her eyes with the back of her hand.

"You always
were a sucker for this one, Angel," A deep, husky voice startled
and awakened her senses.

Angela whirled
about, knocking half her popcorn onto the floor and nearly spilling
her soft drink.

"I don't
believe it—Cooper Johnson?" she shrieked as several people glanced
their way.

"The one and
only, but you're obstructing my view with all that hair aruntilery.
I thought curlers went out a long time ago."

Angela's mouth
hung a in lowly whispered gasp. She must have looked pretty
ridiculous, as Cooper Johnson reached the distance to close it for
her. His warm hand sent a shiver of unexpected reactions through
her.

"Watch out,
Angel, I might think you're glad to see me."

"Just a little
surprised," she said trying to find her voice.

He leaned
forward again, his warm breath tickling her scalp as he spoke.
"Missed me?"

"Not really,"
she said and turned back around as though dismissing a pesky fly.
"What brings you back to town?"

"You,
naturally," he said smiling devilishly as she glanced at him over
her shoulder.

Without
warning, he slid a leg over the seat next to her and joined her.
Her heart did a quick flip flop when she met him almost
eye-to-eye. She had forgotten how lethal he was, and how easily he
aroused her senses.

He took her
popcorn. "Maybe I better hold this, if we don't want it all over
the floor."

He offered her
the popcorn,
her
popcorn.

Exasperation
climbed all over her, but she squashed it with a purpose.

"I love this
movie." She whispered instead.

His eyes swept
over her like a broom leaving wisps in its journey. "Yeah," he said
with a husky note, and finally chuckled softly, his long arm
stretching behind her. "They don't make them like the Duke anymore,
do they?"

Again the
little man in front turned around, "Do you mind? I'm trying to
watch this movie."

Cooper
nodded.

"No, they
don't." Angela deliberately ignored the little man. "I love John
Wayne, though." She saw the look Cooper Johnson was giving her and
rushed to explain. "I mean, oh, not like you're thinking. More like
a father. He's an icon, an image of what a real man should be."

"I can relate
to that. He's a hard image to live up to, though."

"I seriously
doubt anyone could," she quipped.

Suddenly,
Cooper Johnson was smiling at her, a devastating smile that curled
her toes, and made her heartbeat quicken. "There is, was, and
always will be only one John Wayne."

"Darn
straight."

Obviously
perturbed by their constant talking, the little man got up and
moved to the other side of the theatre.

"Oops," Angela
chuckled softly.

His hand fell
against her shoulder, and she practically jumped out of her seat.
Again he chuckled, obviously delighted by her reactions. The devil
was in Cooper Johnson's eyes.

"You know," he
drawled, his eyes traveling about the theatre with open amusement.
"It's hard to believe this place is until open. A lot of the older
theatres are closing down these days. Nice to see some things don't
change. Gosh, I remember hitching rides with my grandfather just to
see the Saturday Matinees. John Wayne was usually a special back
then. I'd get up before daylight to get my chores done in time.
Most of the kids were here to watch Superman, but not me. No, I
loved the shoot 'em ups."

Angela's mind
fluttered back in time to her younger years. Cooper had been the
big kid on the neighbouring farm. They both walked to school on the
same road every day, but never together. Cooper paid little or no
attention to a skinny little girl in pig tails and braces.

"It was the
only place to be on those long, hot Saturdays," she said with a
slight curl to her lips. "They tried to tear this place down once.
But the townspeople got together and asked the owners if they would
leave it open for late night oldies."

"And were you
one of those townspeople?"

"Naturally."

"Somehow, I'm
not surprised. I mean you were the only girl I ever knew who liked
old movies better than the new ones. And, as I remember, you liked
the shoot 'em ups as well."

"I didn't know
you noticed."

"It's hard not
to when a little girl grows up practically in your own back yard.
So, how's Josh?"

She was so used
to answering the question, she did it automatically. "He's growing
like a Loco Weed. He's ten now, and at times, quite a handful."

"Has it been
that long? I'll bet Ed and Josie are proud."

Angela grew
tense at the mention of her parents, her smile fading, as though
someone erased it. Like opening a festering sore that wouldn't
heal.

"I—I wouldn't
know Coop. I haven't seen or spoken to them in years."

His surprise
was genuine. "You're kidding?"

"No, I'm
not."

He turned
toward her, his eyes scanning her with purpose. "You mean to tell
me, they're until sore about you marrying Raif?"

"Among other
things, yes. I lived with them after Raif died. For a while. I
fought with them about having Josh. They thought I was too young to
be a mother. And dad couldn't take it after old man Sullivan fired
him from the mill. I took the bad mouthing as long as I could stand
it. But after Josh was born, and I saved up enough money, I got out
of there. It took three years, but I did it. You just can't go
home…after something like that."

One of the
brothers died on screen and Angela couldn't stop her tears, or was
it simply the fact that Cooper dredged up old memories she
preferred not to deal with.

He handed her a
hankie from his back pocket.

"I suppose the
Sullivan's made up for it, though?"

Again Angela
wanted to cry. "Not hardly. Raif's sister, Reba convinced the
Sullivan's that Josh wasn't related. Something about the Sullivan
men having a special birthmark. Raif had one on his arm, but I
never paid much attention to it, at the time. I think poor Mrs
Sullivan was upset about the rejection, though. She was very fond
of Josh. She had visited him every week before Reba came up with
the startling conclusion. I was so upset with them I decided to
change our name back to Cummings. I felt Raif would
understand."

"Sounds like a
bad soap opera. So, what are you doing in this one horse town,
then?"

Angela dried
her eyes, and blew her nose. "When I left my folks, I called my
uncle and he invited me and Josh to come and live with him. He
wasn't in the best of health, and needed our help as badly as we
needed him. Unfortunately, he died a couple of years ago and left
his farm to Josh and I. Since then, we've have made Corsicana our
home."

"Moved to the
big city, did ya?" He smiled at her.

She shrugged
and returned her attention to the movie.

"That must be
your Uncle Henry?"

"Why, Coop,"
Angela said looking at him squarely, and slipping into the familiar
nickname she used to use, "I didn't know you knew Uncle Henry."

Cooper nodded,
his eyes crinkled around the edges, and a slow, invading smile lit
his face. "Oh, yeah, Henry Gates and I go way back. I worked for
him when I first left home, ironically. I think he must have helped
every green horn kid this side of the Red River get a
foot hold. I'm sorry to hear about him passing on, though. I
was fond of him."

"I never knew
you worked for Uncle Henry. Doing what?"

"Farming,what
else. But I doubt he would have talked about me, or any other kid
he helped. I never heard the man brag."

"But what
happened to your family, Coop? I mean …you were so good at farming,
I can't imagine you leaving home."

"I'm sure you
remember how my dad and I fought, more than once. Knock down,
drag out's, at least on his side. I'd never hit him, had too
much respect for him.

"But there
comes a time when you have to admit, things aren't going well. And,
since Henry and my dad had been good friends once, I went to him,
and begged him for a job. He gave me one. Got me back on my feet,
gave me confidence and direction. Unfortunately, dad and I never
settled our differences. He died last week. We had his funeral the
other day. That's what brought me back to town."

Coop's
closeness sent a current of awareness through her as his light
scented cologne teased her. Lord, he was sexy! But where was her
mind? He was talking about a death.

"Oh, Coop, how
insensitive of me. I read about it in the paper. I was so shocked,
I mean, he was until a young man. It was his heart, wasn't it?"

Cooper nodded,
his gaze going over her curiously.

"I should have
gone to the funeral, but I was afraid I'd run into my folks."

"You would
have, they were there. They didn't stay long, but they were there.
I thought it pretty nice of them to come, since dad wasn't the best
of neighbors."

"So, how's your
mother and Brag taking it?" she asked, quickly changing the
subject.

"Mom's doing
better than I expected. It's Brag who can't accept it. They were
pretty tight."

"Yes, I
remember."

Angela
pretended to be absorbed in the movie, but every now and then she'd
catch a glimpse of him through the corner of her eyes. Handsome
like an aged oak tree that weathers the storms, a seasoned man. His
dark ash-brown hair hung loosely to his collar, tapered and neat.
Oh, yes, age looked good on Cooper Johnson, Angela decided
quietly.

Cooper wasn't
as old as Greg, her fiancée, maybe thirty-three or four. But there
was no comparing Greg and Cooper. They were two entirely different
people. Complete opposites. Greg was immaculate in every respect.
Cooper simply exuded a raw, male sensuality that couldn't be
ignored.

"I suppose you
and Caroline are married now, with a house full of kids?" She asked
the question before contemplating why.

He smiled
paying more attention to her than the movie. "Hardly. She married
Kenneth Martin seven or eight years ago. Last I heard, they moved
to Dallas."

He dug into her
popcorn, unmindful of her pleated frown. "Kenneth Martin? But I
thought you and she…"

"There were a
lot of girls back then, mostly big boobs and no brains." His eyes
travelled her once more, taking in her baggy sweats and rollers
with renewed interest. "Don't get me wrong, Angel, I know I was
pretty immature. But time has a way of changing things."