The Cowboy's Homecoming (12 page)

 

The church was quiet. Several of the families had moved out. The few that remained were working on the homes they wanted to move back into.

Jeremy walked down the steps of his RV and looked at the big building with the faded paint and the tall steeple. Years ago an old van had picked him up each Sunday, driven by Teddy Buckley. As he got older, Jeremy made sure his little sister was up and ready. Even if they couldn't find her shoes, he took her to church.

Church meant breakfast and sometimes lunch. Church meant a break from his mother passed out on the couch. Or her crazy manic moods when she cleaned and cooked, as if everything was right in their world. He'd never taken a drink in his life, because he wouldn't take the chance of becoming his mother.

He'd always had a plan to get away from her. It was his one real skill set. He was good at sticking to his plans. He had planned a world championship in bull riding and he'd made it. It had taken ten years, but he'd done it. He also had a world title in roping.

He'd planned to build a motorcycle dealership that thrived. He'd done more than that. He'd built a custom bike shop that was doing better than he'd ever dreamed. He wasn't Midas, but he'd done okay for himself. And for his family. He'd helped Elise and her husband. He'd taken care of his mother.

He was still taking care of her.

It was hard to fathom, loving her, even after all she'd done to them. He shook his head and turned away from the church. In the field across the road, cattle were starting to sound the dinner cry. A horse whinnied. He breathed in deep, enjoying the clean smell, the familiar scents. Man, this was home.

He had tried not to let that be his thoughts about this place, but as hard as he tried to push it back, it kept on coming back. This was home. Tulsa was a big house that impressed people. It was traffic, business, playing the right games.

It wasn't home.

He walked across the road to the barn, to the corrals and fences. Pain throbbed lightly in his leg, reminding him of the crazy things he'd done to earn money to buy this place. A dozen years fighting it out on the back of bulls in arenas packed with fans.

It would be a lie to say he hadn't loved that life. He'd loved the traveling. He'd loved the fans. He'd loved the money.

He walked into the big old barn that had been on
this land for more years than he could remember. He'd done some repairs, but the place was still in good shape. Better shape than the house he'd been trying to build. It wasn't good for much more than kindling, thanks to the tornado.

A truck slowed and turned into the driveway of the barn. Jeremy groaned. Too late to pretend he wasn't here. Too late to head out the back door. He guessed it would have to happen sooner or later. He leaned against the side of the barn and waited.

He tried to look casual, arms crossed and hat tipped low. He guessed he probably looked more like an Old West gunslinger than a guy trying to pretend he just didn't care.

“Saw you out here, thought I might stop and see how you're doing.” Tim Cooper, otherwise known as his dad, walked up to the barn. He wasn't the young father of a dozen kids anymore. His hair had grayed. The lines in his face were deeper.

Jeremy looked for a reflection of himself in that craggy, suntanned face. Maybe in the light brown hair or the shape of his mouth. Man, maybe it was his walk and the way he managed to look like he really didn't care. But he did.

Or at least Jeremy did.

“I'm doing okay.” Jeremy turned to look inside the barn. “I just came out to feed.”

“Right. I can help. Or if you need help getting that house frame back up, we can help.”

“I can do it.”

Tim nodded and took a few steps closer. “I have twelve kids. No, make that thirteen…”

“Are you sure there aren't a few more out there?”
The low blow didn't feel as good as Jeremy thought it might. If he'd been Tim Cooper, he probably would have punched him right then and there.

Tim just rubbed his jaw with his thumb and then he smiled. “I guess I had that coming. But yeah, I'm sure there are no more out there. I messed up, Jeremy. There's no excuse for what I did. I'm not going to blame it on anything other than pure stupidity. When I met up with your mom in Grove, I should have went on home. I didn't. I'm not going to blame it on her, either.”

“Then no one is to blame?”

“That isn't what I'm saying. I'm to blame. I hurt a lot of people. I hurt myself, my wife, my kids. That includes you. I should have realized.”

“I'm not sure what that means.” Jeremy's heart was beating a little faster, a little harder. He walked into the barn, away from a man he wanted to hurt.

“Jeremy, it means you were my son. If your mother would have told me the truth, I would have been there for you.”

Jeremy jerked the feed door open. He was thirty years old. He had been kicked, stepped on and head-butted by some of the baddest bulls in the country. He'd never felt this way. He'd never thought he would be this old and still want this man to be his dad. Tim Cooper was a man who admitted his mistakes and tried to do right. Yeah, even Jeremy could see that.

He pulled a bag of feed out and hefted it over his shoulder before glancing back at Tim Cooper. “I guess you'll have to give me the whole story because the only one I have is the one I witnessed and that was my mom screeching in church that you were my dad and you looking pretty stinking embarrassed.”

Tim turned a little red. “Yeah, that was a bad day all around.”

“I guess that's an understatement.” Jeremy walked out the back door of the barn and pushed through the half dozen head of cattle milling around. He pulled a pocketknife out of his pocket and slit the top of the feed bag.

“When I saw that your mother was pregnant, I approached her and asked if you were mine.”

“And she didn't tell you the truth.”

“She told me there was no way I was your dad.”

Jeremy poured the feed into the trough. “That let you off the hook, didn't it? You didn't have to tell your wife. You didn't have to help raise me.”

“I would have.” Tim stood a short distance away, his gaze shifting from Jeremy to the church. “I should have. I guess I knew. I watched you grow up and I knew. And that was my biggest mistake.”

Jeremy shouldered past Tim Cooper. “Yeah, well, it's a little too late now, isn't it?”

“I know that's how you feel.”

“Right, you know.” Jeremy walked back into the barn. A horse had walked through a stall door and stood in one of the empty stalls. It stuck its nose out at him and he rubbed the animal's face.

“I can't undo the past.” Tim Cooper grabbed a flake of hay from the bale in a wheelbarrow.

“None of us can.” Jeremy settled into the fact that he was a lot calmer than he thought he'd be. He'd thought about this moment and it had always included his fist connecting with Tim Cooper's smug face.

But Tim Cooper wasn't smug.

And the mad had all drained out of Jeremy.

“I guess Elise isn't yours?” Jeremy turned a five-gallon bucket and sat down. Tim did the same, grabbing an empty bucket and turning it next to Jeremy's.

“No, she isn't.” Tim stretched his legs in front of him. “I didn't make a habit of cheating on my wife. I love Angie. I hurt her and I've had to live with that.”

“She's a good woman.” He absently rubbed his leg and he didn't look at Tim. “If you're doing this because you think it'll make me change my mind about the church, you're wrong. I do think it is pretty sad that you all neglected it all these years and now you suddenly care.”

Tim sighed. “We didn't neglect it. We accepted that our community was changing. Years ago, people stayed in Dawson. They farmed. They raised their kids here. They went to church here. That meant every church in town was full. Life changed, people moved or they wanted bigger churches. It's hard to get a pastor to come to a church like Back Street in a town the size of Dawson. It isn't as if we had a lot to pay.”

“Yeah, I guess I can see that.” Jeremy glanced to the left, across the street to the church.

“That church didn't hurt you. I did.”

“You're right about that.” Jeremy pushed himself up from the bucket and wished he hadn't sat on something so low to the ground. He grimaced and flexed his leg. He figured it was probably going to rain pretty soon. For the sake of those recovering from the tornado, he hoped it didn't.

“Jeremy, I'd like for us to spend some time together.”

“Let's not push it, Tim. It wasn't that long ago that you tried to buy me off.”

“You misunderstood. I was trying to make up for what I did, not…”

“Yeah, we have a different memory on that.”

“I hope you'll give me a chance. We're having a birthday party for Heather. Maybe you could join us.”

Heather Cooper was one of the nicest girls Jeremy knew. He had defended her once, in high school. Now he realized he'd been defending his little sister. He should have known.

It took him a minute to process thoughts that hadn't sunk in before. When he'd been busy being mad he hadn't thought about how this connected him to people he'd always known. Yeah, Jackson had been in his face, but that was Jackson.

Heather Cooper was his little sister. The man standing in front of him was his dad. It took time for all that to sink in. He'd spent the last dozen years running from it instead of working through it.

“I'll think about it.”

“Bring a date if you want.” Tim waved and walked out of the barn. “The party starts in two hours.”

Right, bring a date. The whole “welcome to the family” wagon might be pushing things. It wasn't that easy, to just move on and suddenly be a Cooper. But Jeremy was willing to give it a try.

T
he box was open on Beth's bed. It shouldn't make her feel this way, as if her mother had just left. Opening the box was like opening up the past, the forgotten pain. Beth brushed at her eyes and sat down on the bed. Why had her dad waited so long? Had he been afraid she couldn't handle the memories? Or had he been unable to handle seeing her with these things of her mother's?

She lifted the ring box from among the contents and lifted the lid. Emotion clogged her throat and tears burned her eyes. Her mother's wedding ring. The diamond glinted in the overhead light, sparkling in the gold setting.

Beth slid the ring on her finger, the one where she'd worn Chance's ring for eight years. She'd hocked the ring the day she left him because she'd needed money to run, to hide. Now she smiled, because it was ironic that the ring was the one good thing he'd done for her in their marriage.

She picked up the journal that had been hidden in the box all these years. It was yellowed with age and smelled a little musty. But it was her mother's story.
Five years of battling cancer and having faith. Beth felt a healthy dose of shame. Her mother had never lost faith. Beth had. A few battles and she'd jumped ship and tried to manage life on her own.

It hadn't worked out so well.

Things were getting better, though. Her faith was getting stronger.

She opened the journal to one of her mother's shorter notes, a day when she'd felt defeated. And she'd ended the short entry by quoting Psalm 91.
He who dwelleth in the secret place of the most high, shall abide in the shadow of the almighty. And I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge and my fortress. My God. In Him will I trust.

In Him will I trust.

Beth put the journal on her nightstand and placed the lid on the box. A light knock on her door, tentative and cautious. She wiped at her eyes and took a deep breath.

“Come in.”

The door eased open. Her dad peeked in. “I have that new gelding down at the stable. Do you want to try him out?”

His gaze slid to the box and to the journal. He inhaled sharply and glanced away.

“Dad, she would have wanted you to move on, to…”

“No.” He shook his head, gray hair thinning and weathered lines creasing his face. “Beth, we all deal with things in a different way. I've dealt with this nearly your entire life.”

“I know.” Because they'd found the cancer soon after Beth's birth. Had he ever blamed her?

“How's Lorna?”

Her dad didn't smile. And then he did. “I guess she's doing fine. Come on down and see if you think this gelding will suit you.”

“I'll be down in a few minutes.”

She picked up the note she'd gotten from the historical society that day. They hadn't found a real reason to register Back Street Church as an historical building. She folded the piece of paper and shoved it into the pocket of her jeans.

When she got to the barn the horse was already saddled. It was a good-looking roan, brown and sprinkled with gray and hints of chestnut. The horse turned, ears twitching at Beth's arrival.

Beth's dad walked out of an empty stall. She smiled because his step was lighter these days. She'd come home. He said that had made things a lot easier for him. But Lorna was the one responsible for the lighter step, the easier smile.

“Want to try him in the arena?” Her dad unclipped the lead rope from the hook on the wall.

“Sure.” She took the reins and led the horse out the door and to the arena. The white boards of the arena needed painting. She'd have her dad pick up the paint and she'd do that next week, when things settled down a little.

Her dad opened the gate to the arena and she led the gelding through. He side-stepped a little and she pulled him close, brushing a hand down his neck. Probably a good idea to lunge him a bit before riding him, but she hadn't brought a rope out with her. She glanced back, sometimes there was a long line wrapped and hanging on the corner post. Not this time.

She led him once around the arena instead and then she slipped her foot into the stirrup and swung her right leg over the horse's back. As she settled into the saddle a truck pulled up the drive. She reined the horse around and watched Jeremy get out of the big Ford. He was dressed in a polo and jeans. He'd left his hat at home. Did that mean he was going out, or was he leaving? Did he know about the historical society decision?

He was a little overdressed for a neighborly visit.

No sense dwelling on what might happen. Or might not. She loosened the reins and nudged the horse forward. The gelding broke into an easy trot. She moved her hand and gave him another light nudge with her heels. He moved into an easy lope around the arena. She neck reined him to the left, leaning the reins lightly against the right side of his neck. He took the lead and circled in a tight circle. Nice.

She tightened her legs and he slowed to a walk, just the lightest pressure on the reins. Her dream horse. She smiled as she rode back to her dad. He was standing next to Jeremy.

“Dad, he's great.”

“He's off a little,” Jeremy answered. He opened the gate and walked in.

“No, he isn't.” She eased the horse back and he tucked his head against the pressure and backed up. She released and he stepped forward and stopped.

“Yeah, he is.” Her dad rested his arms on the top of the gate. “Right leg, Jeremy.”

“Yes, sir.” Jeremy ran his hand down the horse's neck. He touched the horse's rear leg and eased his hand down. “Pretty warm, Beth.”

“Well, that's just wrong.” She slid off the horse and
walked around to the side where Jeremy was lifting the horse's rear leg. The gelding pulled a little but Jeremy leaned into his side and held the leg up.

“He might have pulled a tendon in the ride up from Oklahoma City. Or maybe he hit it against the trailer.” Her dad walked through the gate and closed it behind him.

“It's a little swollen.” Jeremy released the leg. “Doesn't look like anything serious, but I'd call Joe.”

“Yeah, I will.” Her dad shook his head. “He's a nice animal.”

“I'll take him in and put him in a stall.” Beth took the reins from Jeremy. “What are you all dressed up for?”

Jeremy looked down, as if he hadn't noticed the jeans, or the unscuffed boots he was dragging through the dusty arena.

“I'm on my way to Heather's birthday party.”

He said it like he went to birthday parties at the Coopers' every day of the week. But Beth wondered. She glanced back as she walked toward the gate with the gelding. He smiled, a tight smile, a little tense.

“It'll be fun.” She led the gelding through the gate. The men followed.

“Let me take him. We'll wrap that leg up and call the vet.” Her dad took the reins.

“Would you like to go with me?” Jeremy rubbed the back of his neck and shifted a nervous look at Buck. Jeremy was thirty and afraid of her dad.

“Sounds like a good idea.” Her dad stopped and the horse stopped next to him. The big roan hung his head, looking for all the world as if he thought he'd let them down. Beth ran a hand over the horse's soft, sleek neck.

“Go with you to the Coopers'? I don't know, that might be a little awkward.”

“Tim said to bring a date.”

Beth smiled then. “A date, huh?”

“Well, yeah.”

A date. She looked down at her own faded jeans and the T-shirt she'd put on earlier, after cleaning house. “I would have to get ready.”

Jeremy glanced at his watch. “We don't have to be there for thirty minutes. I'll unsaddle the horse and help your dad get him settled.”

“I'll hurry.”

 

Jeremy held the gelding while Beth's dad wrapped the animal's leg. He'd already called the vet and so now it was down to putting the horse in a stall and waiting.

“She's been through a lot.”

Jeremy had been stroking the gray flecked neck of the horse and he looked down, meeting the serious gaze of Buck Bradshaw.

“Yes, sir, I know she has.”

This had to be one of those conversations when the father was asking about intentions toward his daughter. Jeremy didn't have an answer. He couldn't tell Buck that he'd come here with a definite plan, part revenge and part business. He'd known day by day what to do and how to go about doing it. But now, his life was minute by minute and things just kept changing.

Beth was one of the unknowns in his plan. He remembered something in science about unknown properties. Yeah, Beth had definitely changed the equation and he had a feeling she might change the outcome.

Buck Bradshaw stood and patted the horse on the
rump. He was a big guy, burly. Maybe he was getting older, but he was still solid. He could probably still hurt a guy.

“So?” Buck pushed his hat back and looked Jeremy square in the face.

“I'm thinking she's a wonderful person and I'm glad she's a friend.”

Buck's chin dropped and inch and he stared. “She went through a lot with Chance.”

“I know she did.”

Jeremy wanted to remind Buck that Chance was back in town, staying at his parents' place. He was being investigated for damage to Beth's truck. Jeremy wasn't going to hurt Beth. And he'd sure make sure no one else did.

But he didn't know what that meant about his plans.

“Keep her safe.” Buck stepped out of the stall and closed the door.

“I intend on doing just that.” Jeremy walked out of the barn with Buck. The sun was low on the horizon and a few hazy clouds turned the sky pink and lavender.

Beth walked across the yard, her dark hair loose. She had changed into jeans that were rolled up above her ankles, and a button-down shirt. The boots she'd worn had been replaced by glitzy little sandals. Gloss shimmered on her lips, drawing his gaze when she smiled.

“Ready?” He cleared his throat and tried again. “Ready to go?”

“I'm ready. I hope this isn't a dressy event.”

“It's taking place in Tim and Angie's backyard.”

“Right.” She looked down and shrugged.

“Beth, you look fine.” He wanted to comment about
the distressed jeans with the tiny holes above the knees and the bright red of her toenails.

He nodded a quick goodbye to her father and led her to his truck. He didn't hold her hand. She didn't reach for his. He opened the door and she climbed in, smiling as she clicked her seat belt in place and he closed the door.

It was a five-minute drive to the Coopers'. He'd never been one to get too worked up, but this case of nerves rolled around inside him. Beth glanced his way and smiled. He was focused on the road when her hand touched his arm.

“They're the same people you've known all your life.” Her words were spoken softly as they turned up the driveway that led to the big Georgian-style home.

“Right. But growing up they were the family I always wished I'd had.”

They were the family he hadn't had. It made bitter a real easy pill to swallow.

“I guess we have to let go of the past and all of the regret, the things we wish we'd had or wish we'd done differently.”

He smiled at Beth and after shifting he reached for her tiny hand. It slid into his, fingers interlaced. She knew about regret. She knew about loss.

“Thanks for coming with me.”

“Because you couldn't have done it without me?” She smiled and gave his hand a light squeeze before letting go and slipping her hand from his.

“I think that's probably what I would have said.”

He parked and stepped out of the truck. Beth was out before he could reach her side. They walked up to the house together, her fingers brushing his as they walked
side by side. He didn't reach for her hand. That would have connected them and they didn't need connections right now.

The front door opened as they walked up the steps. Angie Cooper wore an apron over her jeans and T-shirt. She smiled and waved them inside.

“I'm so glad you're here.” She hugged Jeremy and then Beth. “Tim is manning the grill out back. I hope you're hungry.”

“Starving,” Beth said.

She eased her hand into his and smiled up at him, in a way that set him on his heels because it reached deep inside and forced him to be someone different, someone a lot stronger than he'd ever been before. Maybe someone a lot more forgiving.

He stopped in the two-story entryway. Angie had continued down the hall expecting them to follow her, probably to the kitchen and out to the patio. Jeremy rubbed the back of his neck where tension had settled in the muscles.

“Jeremy?” Beth slid a finger through his belt loop and pulled him close. “Relax. This is your family.”

“You two coming?” Angie had reappeared. She stood in the hall and beckoned for them to follow.

Jeremy took a deep breath. “Yeah, we're coming.”

Beth exhaled, as if she hadn't been sure. That made two of them.

The patio ran the entire length of the house. A covered outdoor kitchen at the far end, complete with a grill, sink and fire pit, seemed to be the popular meeting place. Jeremy glanced around, noticing that the visitors were all family. Of course with the Cooper clan, that meant a couple of dozen people, give or take.

Reese, Jackson, Travis, Jesse, even Blake was there. They were sitting around the pool, iced tea in hand. Maggie Cooper Jones was trying to corral her three kids. Lucky was sitting with his wife. Their daughter was in her early teens and she'd just dived into the pool.

Heather was at a patio table with Mia. There were a couple of kids missing.

He was a member of this family. As a kid he would have jumped in without thinking. Today he stood back and watched because as an adult he questioned how they felt about him being there, in the middle of their family. If it had been him, he might have been a little angry.

But they were all long past being teenagers. They'd been dealing with this for the last twelve years, same as him. They just hadn't dealt with it together. That's where Jeremy had made the choice, one he couldn't undo.