He let out a soft grunt and shuddered.
Danielle had to admit she liked touching him. The years of working on a ranch had hardened Hale’s body to perfection. He’d become a rugged, good-looking man.
He was strong enough to fling a seventy-five pound bale of hay like it weighed little more than a gallon of milk. His strength made her go weak in the knees, but his gentleness melted her heart. On the evenings when her boys fell asleep watching baseball, Hale would carry them upstairs like they were encased in eggshells, frail and delicate.
Whenever she witnessed such unflagging tenderness couched in such a powerful body, she wanted to jump into the safety of his arms and kiss his face. She didn’t dare give into the impulse for fear of jeopardizing their agreement. She’d promised to leave and give him the farm, so she needed to keep things simple. With that in mind, she settled for kissing her fingertips and pressing them against his shoulder blade in silent thanks for everything he did today.
The moment was bittersweet. She was beginning to realize she’d loved Mark for what he used to be. Hale, on the other hand, was a man she could love as he was.
Her cell phone rang, prompting Cocoa to scramble upright to nuzzle Hale’s arm. He cast a questioning glance over his shoulder at Danielle, who handed him a pillow as she got up to answer the call.
Even though he couldn’t hear her, she carried her phone to the office. When she finished the conversation, she walked back into the living room and smiled.
Hale had fallen asleep on the couch before the last orange strands of sunset disappeared from the sky.
In April, he’d insisted that falling asleep on the couch wasn’t good for his back. Now that they were right in the middle of growing season, the poor man couldn’t seem to avoid dozing on the soft cushions after putting in a full day of hard labor.
Fatigue was beginning to catch up with her, so she went upstairs to read in bed for a while before turning off the light.
Shortly after ten o’clock, Hale entered the bedroom with his dog. Cocoa trotted over to sniff Danielle’s ear.
“That tickles.” Danielle giggled, scooting under the covers to evade the curious nose.
A loud zip preceded the sound of denim dropping to the floor. “You awake, Dani?”
She poked her head out of the covers to nod.
Taking advantage of her sudden reappearance, Cocoa’s prickly muzzle snuffled her neck. Danielle yelped and tried to fend off the friendly attack.
The sheet flipped back and a solid chest bumped against her shoulder as Hale reached across Danielle to give the dog a conciliatory scratch.
“I know my wife smells good, but you can’t have her.” He pointed to the corner of the room. “Go to bed, Cocoa.”
With a slow shuffle, the dog went to her cushion.
“Now I’ve got you to myself.” Hale looped an arm over Danielle’s waist, lying beside her so his torso snuggled against her slender back. Since last week’s thunderstorm, he held her this way every time he came to bed.
Danielle curled her fingers along the thick contour of his bicep. Deep inside her ribcage, happiness grew, crowding out the hopelessness that had crippled her for so long.
“My favorite time of day,” he mumbled into her hair. “Just you and me.”
Surprised by his tender admission, she gave his arm a gentle squeeze. A moment later, he twitched. The man was out cold.
Sleep should have come quickly now that Hale was beside her, but Danielle couldn’t stop thinking about the phone call she’d taken an hour earlier. Her colleague wanted to tell her about a lucrative teaching position available at Virginia Tech. The search committee was looking for a professor to start teaching the fall term. The job was one she should endeavor to obtain.
Instead of feeling excited, sadness cramped her insides. She hated to leave the one man who made her hurt fade away, but staying on the farm wasn’t an option. Too many secrets were hidden beneath the rolling fields, buried by every Cooper man she’d known.
The past few months with Hale proved he was no different. Even though his family was gone, he still wouldn’t talk about the fiery night that sent him into exile.
Perhaps that made him the most dangerous Cooper of all.
Chapter Seven
The barn’s second story floor shook beneath Hale’s feet. Concerned the boys were fooling around after he told them to stay put, he paused to look over his shoulder.
Luke and Drew were sitting beside Cocoa, playing with the toy cars he bought them yesterday.
Assured they weren’t going to dart in front of him, he threw a bale of hay into the corner to start a new row. When he picked up another bale, he saw Danielle striding across the loft. He experienced a jolt of surprise at the frown on her pretty face.
“Lucas and Andrew, I thought you were gathering eggs from the chickens.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “What are you doing here?”
When she spoke, her words were sharp enough to cut bailing wire. Hale watched the exchange between mother and sons but stayed quiet.
“We put the eggs in the refrigerator and then followed Hale here,” Luke explained, wiping his nose. “He said we could stay if we didn’t get in the way.”
“You’re not permitted in this part of the barn.” She tightened her ponytail with a yank. “Go downstairs. I’ll be there in a minute.”
The boys scrambled to do her bidding, their feet clunking on the wooden ladder.
She propped her hands on her hips and addressed Hale. “The boys aren’t allowed to be here. Didn’t they tell you?”
“They did, but I told them the hay mow was safe now. I fixed everything.” He jabbed a thumb to the sturdy new planks in the floor, not liking the veiled accusation in her voice. Didn’t he have a say in upbringing the boys now that they were a family? “I put in a new support beam, too.”
She glanced up at the pinpricks of light beaming through the ceiling. “The roof has leaked for years, so there must be other parts of this floor that are rotten. Who knows when those boards will give way?”
“I checked every inch of this place. Everything is fine.” He peeled off his work gloves and slapped them against his thigh, the angry smack echoing into the rafters. “The roof won’t be a problem after tomorrow. I asked Ben Murphy to help me patch the holes.”
She frowned at the fresh wood beneath her feet as though the sturdy boards were flimsy as wet paper. “I don’t want my boys here.”
“They need to learn how to work in the barn, Dani.”
She shook her head. “I won’t let them set foot into this place until I’m sure there aren’t any rotten floorboards.”
A surge of compassion softened his frustration. He’d been so consumed with trying to get Danielle to trust him, he hadn’t pressed her to discuss the events which put her in this precarious position. “This place must haunt you, especially since you were the one who found Mark after he fell.”
She glanced away, her beautiful mouth tightening into a pinched line.
Hale had grown accustomed to that reaction. Whenever Mark’s name came up, she closed down.
“Every time I ask about him, I don’t get an answer.” He tossed his gloves on top of a nearby bale. A puff of dust mushroomed into the air. “Why won’t you talk to me about Mark? Is it because I left? Do you think I don’t deserve to know?”
“No, that’s not right.” She placed a foot on the new flooring, shifting her weight on the plank with a tentative bounce. The end of her ponytail fell in soft, golden waves across her shoulder. “I’m not sure you’d want to know what happened to your brother. He changed a lot after you left.”
“Tell me how.”
She slid her hands into the front pockets of her cut-off jeans, staring at the floor.
Her wide-eyed gaze focused on the wooden planks as though they would shatter and send her flying. Hale wanted to pull her from that spot just so the heartrending intensity on her face would disappear.
“He didn’t take good care of himself.” She shrugged. “Almost like he didn’t care anymore.”
Hale glanced at her tank top, noticing a smear of dirt under the curve of her right breast. From the looks of it, she’d been weeding the vegetable garden again. A faint sunburn topped her bare shoulders and a dandelion leaf stuck to one of the white threads hanging from the hem of her shorts.
Feeling a burst of longing, he wondered how the hell Mark could stop caring when he had Danielle and the boys to love. “Mark looks heavy in the picture on the fireplace mantel. Must’ve gained fifty pounds since I saw him.”
Biting her lip, she nodded. “We took that photo six months before he died. He couldn’t walk down to the barn without breaking into a sweat. I was convinced he had high blood pressure, but he wouldn’t see the doctor.”
“Mark was stubborn.” Hale adjusted the volume of his hearing aid so he wouldn’t miss a word of what she said.
“When he fell through the floor, he broke his leg. The injury was awful.” The column of her neck convulsed with a deep swallow. “The bone protruded through his thigh. I’ve never seen anything so bad. The EMTs did everything they could for him, but he ended up having a heart attack on the way to the hospital. The doctor said the stress of the fall made Mark’s blood pressure spike.”
She’d told him this via text, but seeing the pain crease her face made Hale’s insides warp with anguish for her and his brother. “He was too young to die.”
Her gaze swept the hayloft, her eyes glimmering with unshed tears. “I don’t trust this barn. It ruined Mark, and he knew this place inside and out. Please respect my wishes. Keep Luke and Drew out of here.”
That was one promise he couldn’t make. “This barn is a crucial part of the farm. We need to make sure our boys aren’t afraid of being here.”
His gut tightened when her eyes narrowed.
“They’re
my
boys.” She balled her hands into fists, visibly shaking. “I’ve been by their side for five years. You’ve been here two months. I know what’s right for them, not you.”
“How can you say that?” He tried to tamp down a swell of anger, but failed. His arm made a wide arc in the air. “I’d never put them in danger. This place is safe now.”
“That’s what Mark thought.” She glared at the floor.
Her eyes glittered with such ferocity, he wondered why her gaze didn’t drill a hole into the wood. Long-simmering resentment burst out of Hale in a rough snarl. “I wouldn’t put much faith in Mark’s judgment.”
“He couldn’t predict what part of the floor would collapse, and neither can you. Spare me any empty reassurances, because nobody knows what’s going to break next in this dilapidated barn. Don’t presume my boys will be safe just because
you’re
watching them.”
“So you’d trust the boys to Mark’s care, but not mine?” The notion made his stomach twist in pain. Spurred by the sudden need to show her what he’d accomplished in the past eight weeks, he strode to the open window on the far side of the room and swept his hand to the large garbage bin below. “You should see this.”
Danielle approached and peered over the sill. Sunlight glinted off the empty liquor bottles scattered among the rest of the garbage. She let out a gasp and covered her mouth.
“That’s the second steel bin I rented. At last count, I’ve thrown away three hundred whiskey bottles. Mark hid them all over the place. I even found a few beneath the tractor’s hood. They’re everywhere, Danielle.” He thrust his index finger toward the indisputable evidence of Mark’s rampant alcoholism and bellowed, “How can you trust a drunk with your kids, but not me?”
A soft, keening noise came from the back of her throat and Danielle turned to walk away.
Frustrated by her refusal to answer his question, Hale grabbed her elbow and twisted her around.
She flinched, raising her arms to ward off a blow.
Hale’s body went numb with shock. “Tell me he didn’t hit you.”
When he spotted the tremor in her delicate hands as she lowered her arms, his insides warped. The sun-kissed pink across her cheekbones had gone stark white with fear. He watched in wooden horror as she blinked, but the flutter of her pale eyelids did nothing to erase the panic in her green eyes. She looked as vulnerable as a small animal.
The floorboards vibrated beneath his boots, signaling someone’s approach. Hale turned his head and saw Drew striding toward them.
When their gazes met, Drew’s brow knitted into a tight frown.
Hale recognized the apprehension beneath the boy’s drawn expression. A lifetime ago, Hale felt the same alarm when his own parents argued.
Drew shot an agitated glance at him, full of distrust. Something ripped inside of Hale. Now everything made sense. No wonder Danielle braced every time he touched her. Mark had betrayed her in every possible way.
Grief stricken, Hale took a step backwards so Drew could get to his mother’s side.
“Mom? Do you want me to be with you?”
“Yes, I was just about to head to the house. Want to come?” She took Drew’s hand and allowed him to lead her out of the loft.
They walked away, and Hale willed her to look back. If she’d meet his tortured gaze, he might have reason to hope he hadn’t ruined everything.
As she climbed below, she kept her green eyes pinned on the ladder.
Cursing himself for frightening them, Hale stood by the window to watch Danielle and the boys walk along the gravel path leading to the house. He felt like a fool. Ever since he married Danielle in exchange for the farm, he’d been haunted by her admission that she hated needing him to rescue her.