Easy on the Heart (Novella) (6 page)

BOOK: Easy on the Heart (Novella)
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Mary nodded. She thought of asking him in but knew Miles would be furious if he came home and found Cooper Adams inside the store. “Thank you,” she said as she unlocked the door.

“You’re welcome.” He stepped away without another word.

She climbed the stairs to the apartment. Once locked inside, she crossed to the window before she turned on any lights. There, across the street, hidden in shadows, she saw Cooper’s outline leaning against a wall. He watched, waiting to make sure she was safe.

Mary smiled. She had her own private guardian angel.

An hour later when Miles pulled the wagon to the side entrance, she looked out the window again. As Miles climbed down from his wagon, she saw Cooper move away, unnoticed by anyone but her.

“Thank you,” she whispered, wishing he could hear her.

He glanced up at her window as if he caught her words on the wind, then disappeared into the night.

Chapter Eight

 
COOPER COULDN’T GET
Mary Woodburn out of his mind. The woman was a plague worse than yellow fever. For the next few days she managed to creep into his every thought. It was just a matter of time before he talked about her the way Winnie talked about Woodburn, relating every topic of conversation to him. His sister hardly knew the man, yet somehow he’d become her center.

Johanna and Emma convinced Cooper they needed to schedule the shindig before the weather turned cold. By the end of the week they had half his men doing odd jobs for them and running errands as though the cowhands were part of the social committee.

Cooper worked longer hours rounding up cattle for the season’s last drive to market and trying to stay out of his sisters’ way. After a day of branding, he returned just before sundown covered in mud. He brushed and fed his horse, then walked toward the house, musing that it would take more than one tub of bathwater to get him clean.

He’d almost reached the porch when he spotted Miles Woodburn’s delivery wagon pulled up by the front gate. The man sat there as if unsure whether he wanted to come onto Cooper’s land.

Removing his hat, Cooper waved the mercantile owner forward. Maybe Woodburn had had trouble on the road while making a delivery. Maybe he needed help. Not liking the man wouldn’t keep Cooper from being neighborly.

Woodburn pulled the rig forward, but stopped short of the front porch, and well out of sight of anyone inside the house.

Cooper walked up to the side of the wagon, wishing Mary were here with her brother. “Evenin’,” he said without smiling. “Having trouble, or is this a social call?” If Woodburn had stopped by to warn him to stay away from Mary one more time, Cooper might have to knock some sense into the man.

“It’s not a social call. In fact, I’d just as soon your sisters not know I’m here.” Woodburn appeared hesitant, uncertain.

“All right. What’s on your mind?” Cooper wasn’t sure why, but he had a feeling this wasn’t about Mary. He would bet his best cutting horse Mary hadn’t told her brother about the night he’d walked her home. Cooper wondered if she felt him against her the way he swore he still felt her body against his.

Woodburn climbed down from the rickety old wagon and faced Cooper. “I don’t know how to say this other than straight out.” He looked like he swallowed poison with each word. “I think your sister stole my luggage.”

“What?” Of all the things Cooper thought might be on the Yankee’s mind, this wasn’t even on the list. “That’s impossible.” None of his sisters ever stole anything in their lives.

Woodburn seemed embarrassed to say more, which was all that kept Cooper from swinging at him. “The stage line only has one unclaimed bag and it’s mostly filled with sewing notions. They keep saying it’s the bag that I shipped
from Sherman. I traveled by horseback from there the same day your sisters arrived by stage. I remember them climbing into the coach at Sherman as the driver tossed my bag up top and said he’d see me in Minnow Springs. All I can figure out is that one of them took my luggage and left her own unclaimed.”

Cooper swore. “Impossible!”

“I thought so too, at first. My case was new, brown. The one at the station is black, but it looks brand new and made about the same as mine. Your sisters were the only ones who could have taken it unless it fell off the stage somewhere along the trail. That still wouldn’t explain the extra unclaimed piece. If one of them took mine, why wouldn’t she claim her own?”

“You’ve got some nerve, Woodburn, accusing one of them of such a thing,” Cooper shouted as he remembered the morning Winnie arrived. She hadn’t remembered the color of her bag, or how to get it open. She’d worn her traveling clothes until he’d taken her to town to shop. “My sisters are not thieves!” He yelled the words as if ordering them to be true.

Woodburn looked as miserable as Cooper felt. “Then why didn’t they return my luggage? Theft is the only reason I can come up with and that doesn’t make much sense since my bag only contained clothes and the journal I’ve kept since the war.”

Cooper wanted to flatten Woodburn. The man had been asking for it for years. The way he talked, reminding everyone he was not a Southerner. The way he looked down on folks in town. The way he wormed his way into every conversation Cooper had with Winnie lately. Anyone would think she’d known him for years, knew his every thought, the way she talked about him.

Grabbing the front of Woodburn’s jacket, Cooper pulled him forward as his right fist connected with Woodburn’s jaw in a powerful pop.

The Yankee made no move to defend himself.

Cooper seized the other side of his jacket and hauled
Woodburn to within an inch of his nose. “No man insults my sisters.”

He shoved the Yankee hard against the wagon and delivered a blow to his midsection. Just as his fist connected, Winnie’s scream shattered the air.

“Stop!” She ran toward them. “Stop!”

Cooper backed away, letting Woodburn crumple to the ground like a broken toy. He held his arms open to Winnie, planning to assure her he was all right, the Yankee hadn’t landed a single blow.

But Winnie ran right past him and knelt beside Woodburn. “Miles! Miles! Are you all right?”

Hooking his hand under Winnie’s arm, Cooper tried to pull her to her feet. The shock of seeing her brother fighting must have pushed her over the edge. Woodburn was also trying to push the crazy woman away from him, but Winnie would have none of it. She felt Woodburn’s face and patted on him as though trying to fluff a pillow, while she searched for any breaks or blood.

“Winnie.” Cooper pulled harder, but lifting her was like trying to shovel quicksand. “You don’t know what this is about. Stay out of it.”

“No! You don’t know.” She leaned over the shop owner, wiping her tears off his lapel. “Miles won’t fight you. He swore he would never lift a hand against another man after the war. He’s never told anyone, not even his sister, but he’d let someone beat him to death before he fought again.”

She continued patting on the man. Cooper stepped back, trying to clear his mind. He’d caught his sister’s insanity. She worried over Woodburn and, in Cooper’s opinion, Woodburn wasn’t making near enough protest.

“Winnie? If he’s never told anyone, how do you know?”

The Yankee slowly stood and helped Winnie to her feet. She didn’t even come to his shoulder now so she had to content her smothering to dusting his jacket.

“She knows”—Woodburn stared at Cooper—“because she’s read my journal.” He let the words sink in before adding, “. . . that was in my bag.”

Cooper looked at Winnie. She didn’t have to say a word; he read the truth on her face. If she’d traveled with the James brothers, they would have never had a career long enough to fill a column, much less a dime novel.

Johanna’s voice snapped orders from somewhere behind them. “Come inside, all of you. What would the neighbors think if we lived close enough for them to hear you? We will sort this problem out over coffee. I’m sure it is just a misunderstanding.”

To his oldest sister, the War Between the States had been “just a misunderstanding.” Why should Cooper be surprised Johanna viewed Winnie’s theft and his beating an innocent man any differently?

They all sat down at the table while Winnie went to get the luggage she’d lifted the day she arrived. Cooper knew he was going to have to apologize to a man he didn’t like. That fact bothered him more than the sudden revelation that his sister had sticky fingers.

Emma poured everyone a cup of coffee, but no one drank. “I knew something was amiss,” she said to anyone at the table who would listen. “I just knew it. I have a feeling for these things, you know, always have.”

Cooper felt like counting “one,” for he knew Emma’s statement would be repeated at least a hundred times.

Johanna excused herself, saying someone must attend to dinner. On her way to the kitchen, she paused to invite Mr. Woodburn to join them as if he were here on a social call and hadn’t been being slugged by her brother only moments before.

When Woodburn declined, she smiled and said, “Maybe another time,” before disappearing into the kitchen.

Johanna might be a ball of fire when fighting for the date of a party, but trouble was like dust to her way of thinking. It should be swept under the rug and never spoken about.

Winnie brought in the brown bag she’d carried home the day she arrived in Minnow Springs and handed it to Miles. “I mended all your clothes. Most were in need of a stitch or two.”

Miles lifted a shirt from the bag. Winnie’s fine stitches could barely be seen. “I’ve been wearing this shirt with the collar torn loose for some time.” He nodded a silent thank-you to Winnie. “I should have replaced it, but the rip didn’t show if I kept my jacket on. I try not to ask my sister to take care of me and my sewing skills are nonexistent.”

He pulled his dress coat from the bag and ran his hand along all the buttons. “I thank you for this. It was no small task.”

Winnie smiled. “I guessed that no one sewed for you. And the buttons were no problem; Cooper had ones on his dress coat he never uses.” She glanced at Cooper daring him to argue. “I replaced all of your efforts so the stitches should hold as long as the material does. It took a few nights more time than I imagined it would, I’m afraid. I meant to get your things back to you as soon as possible.”

She brushed her hand over the material as though it somehow partly belonged to her now. “I didn’t mind the work, though. It was kind of like I had someone to do things for, if only for a while. I’ve never had that.” She blinked away a tear bubbling in her eye.

“Why didn’t you tell us, Winnie? How could you have simply kept his things?” Emma circled the table, a one-woman war party. “Sewing a gentleman’s clothes as if he were your man and not some stranger. It beats all I’ve ever heard of.”

Embarrassment warmed Winnie’s round cheeks. “I’m sorry.” She lowered her head. “I didn’t mean any harm. I only wanted to pretend for a while.”

Cooper felt so sorry for Winnie he wanted to hit Woodburn again. The Yankee didn’t much look like he would mind. He must have hated like hell to ride all the way out here and accuse Winnie of stealing.

“How’s your jaw?” Cooper wanted to say he was sorry, but the words clogged his throat.

Woodburn rubbed the side of his face and met Cooper’s stare. “It’ll be sore for a few days, but I’ll live.”

Apology issued. Apology accepted.

“Did you read his journal too?” Emma rounded the table again. “Winnie, you read a man’s private thoughts? How could you? It’s a crime, nothing but a crime. Why, you never even got so much as a letter from a man, and now you read a whole journal. It’s a wonder someone doesn’t lock you away for doing such a thing.”

Winnie took a step backward, offering no defense.

Woodburn stood so fast coffee splashed from every cup on the table. “Mr. Adams,” he said in almost a shout, “as the only male in this family, I feel it is only proper to address you about a matter.”

No one breathed as Cooper stood. He wasn’t sure what he would do if Woodburn suggested filing charges against Winnie. She’d already admitted her guilt, but Emma was the only person alive who’d think of locking Winnie up for mending someone’s clothing.

Cooper closed his eyes and waited. Right or wrong, she was his sister and he’d fight any battle the Yankee lined out if he had to for her. “What do you suggest, Mr. Woodburn?”

“I suggest, Miss Winnie agreeing, of course, that you give me permission to call on your sister. My intentions are honorable, I assure you.”

Winnie giggled in surprise.

Emma hit the floor in a dead faint.

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