Authors: Brenda Minton
Dylan pushed the door open and Jackson grinned and walked inside. “Is that Harmony's car out front?”
“You know it is.”
“Then you two are serious and not just playing everyone? Because I would have bet the farm on this all being subterfuge.”
What in the world was he supposed to say to that? Dylan stared at his older brother, just long enough to look guilty. Finally he got it together. “I didn't know you knew the word
subterfuge
or how to use it in a sentence.”
“Funny, but you know what I mean. You. Harmony. Pretending to like each other so everyone else will leave you alone. In your case, no one tries to fix you up with the perfect woman. And she gets to relax a little without everyone trying to fix her.”
“I'm not sure...”
Jackson laughed, then quieted when he saw Callie and Cash sleeping on opposite ends of the couch. “What's wrong with the kids?”
“Stomach virus.”
“Need anything?” Jackson whispered as he headed for the kitchen.
No, Dylan thought, he and his fake girlfriend were handling things just fine. But instead he said, “No, I've got it covered.”
“Hey, Harmony,” Jackson said as he headed for the coffee. “I hope you made the coffee. Dylan can't even boil water.”
“I can boil water
and
cook.” Dylan shot his brother a warning look. Jackson could get under a guy's skin, even when he was being the most supportive member of the family.
“I'll take your word for it.” Jackson stood in the kitchen holding a cup of coffee and looking from Harmony to Dylan and back to Harmony, before grinning like the cat with a cornered mouse. “You two should think about this.”
“Think about what?” Dylan brushed a hand through still damp hair.
“Don't get all testy.”
Harmony started to stand. “I should go.”
“Sit down.” Jackson said, still smiling but no longer joking. “I'm on your side. I've been watching the two of you and it doesn't take a genius to figure out that you allâ” he pointed to Dylan and then to Harmony “âaren't a couple. Well, maybe a couple of fools. And really, I think what you're doing is smart. Why not help each other out and get a break from all of the people wanting to fix your lives? Smart.”
Harmony sat in stunned silence. Dylan cleared his throat. He looked at her and hoped she'd relax and breathe. “We're two people helping each other out, Jackson. Isn't that what friends do? I don't remember telling anyone we're a couple.”
Jackson set his cup in the sink. “No, I guess you haven't really said that, but you've let people think it.”
“No, we've let people know that we don't need help because we're helping each other.”
“Right. Of course. And it's good to know you're helpful, because I need your help loading some cattle to take to town. And tomorrow I need your help moving the hay we baled last week.”
“I've got two sick kids. Don't you think Gage can help?”
“Gage took Layla to Eureka Springs for a few days.”
“We need to get Bryan back in the country.”
“Sorry, our little brother called last night and said he's staying longer. But he's coming home for Thanksgiving and Christmas.” Jackson stepped away from the counter. “If you can't help, I'll see if I can round Blake up.”
“No, he can help. I can watch the kids.” When Harmony spoke, Dylan shot her a look.
“Harmony, helping each other out doesn't include babysitting.”
“No, it doesn't, but I'd like to. If there's a problem, I'll call you.”
“Are you sure you're...”
She pushed herself to her feet. “Don't ask me if I'm up to it. You know that I am.”
“I know you are.” He stepped close, just a foot between them. He'd been wrong, she didn't smell at all bad. She smelled like springtime. His gaze caught on her loose, blond curls. He wanted to twist his finger around one of those curls.
Jackson fortunately cleared his throat. “We should be going then. The sooner we go, the sooner we get back.”
“Are you sure?” Dylan asked again as he backed away from temptation.
She smiled a little. “Of course I am.”
He didn't kiss her goodbye, even though he really wanted to. A kiss goodbye would have given Jackson enough ammunition for a year. Instead he slid a hand down her arm and stepped away, following his older brother out the front door.
When they were in the truck and driving down the road, Jackson shot him a disgusted look. “Are you twenty-seven or seventeen?”
“Shut up.”
Jackson chuckled. “Remember when I dared you to kiss her?”
“Yeah, I remember.”
“She was a wild thing back then.”
“Yes, she was.” Dylan watched farmland flash by the window. They were heading for a hundred acres a few miles from the main Cooper Creek ranch. “Do you have a point?”
“Not really, just thinking that she's grown up a lot. She's gone through some stuff.”
“Yes, she has.” Dylan took off his hat and brushed a hand through his hair. “Jackson, if you have something to say...”
“I'm not sure what I want to say.”
“That's a first.” Dylan laughed. “Look, it isn't anything. It's just a friendship.”
“Right. Of course it is.” Jackson slid him a knowing look. “Maddie was helping me with Jade. Sophie helped Keeton with Lucy because they were friends. Jesse helped Laura with Abigail because she needed a friend. Need I go on?”
“No, I think you've made your point.”
“Gage helped Layla with Brandon.”
“You can stop talking now.”
Jackson slowed the truck for the sharp right turn. In the rearview mirror Dylan watched Jackson's dog lean with the movement of the truck and then he barked at cars driving past them.
“We Coopers are a helpful bunch,” Jackson continued.
“Yes, we are. It's the way we were raised.”
“And we love nothing more than family.”
Dylan sighed, a way to let Jackson know he was tired of the conversation.
Jackson didn't stop, though. “I'm just saying, little brother, that you've got history with this woman, and she has history she's trying to get past.”
“Have you noticed I'm taller than you, so maybe stop with the little-brother label?”
“Just an inch or two taller and I'm quite a bit older.” Jackson pulled the trailer around and backed up to the gate. “Get out and open the gate.”
“When is it going to be your turn to open the gate?”
“When you're not around to do it.”
Dylan swung the gate open and Jackson backed the trailer to the opening. Dylan moved cattle panels to block the space between fence and trailer so they didn't have any cattle escape.
Jackson joined him a moment later. “I brought the gray gelding for you.”
“Thanks.”
Jackson laughed and Dylan gave him a look he couldn't misinterpret. Jackson knew he didn't like riding the gray gelding. Every time a guy rode that horse, it took fifteen minutes to convince the animal he'd been broke for years. The gelding started every ride off like he was still green. He'd bunny hop, walk stiff-legged like he meant to throw a guy, toss his head and in general act like a colt. Eventually he'd settle down and do his job, though.
“You're welcome.” Jackson grinned big and adjusted his hat to block the sun.
It took them less than thirty minutes to bring in the steers that they had to load. The dog did the running, keeping up with any animal that tried to cut from the herd. True to nature, the gray gelding had given Dylan a bone-jarring ride the first fifteen minutes. As they moved steadily toward the round pen and the trailer, the horse had settled into an easy trot, his ears pricked forward, his attention focused on the job.
Dylan's attention was anywhere but the job. His mind had shifted from cattle to Harmony and the look on her face when he'd suggested getting married. That had been just about the silliest notion ever. Settling down wasn't on his radar. He'd never met a woman who made him think about taking the walk to the altar.
Harmony deserved more than his halfhearted proposal. He'd tell her that later.
Something caught his eye. It darted, moving fast. A rabbit. It raced past his horse and the dog turned, thinking he might chase the rodent. The gelding took a wild lunge to the left and gave a mighty buck that sent Dylan flying off his back, hitting the ground hard.
As he tried to suck oxygen into his lungs, he heard Jackson laugh. Dylan eased into a sitting position, glaring at his brother.
“I'm selling that horse,” he growled at Jackson as he closed the gate of the round pen, enclosing the cattle that milled and avoided the open trailer.
“Need help getting up?”
“No, I don't need help.” He breathed deep, catching his breath at the sharp pain in his side. “I really don't like that horse.”
“You shouldn't have been daydreaming. You're better than that.”
“Thanks, I know that.” Dylan pushed himself to his feet. He hadn't been thrown in years, and it didn't feel good to his body or his ego. “I wasn't daydreaming.”
“You were back at your house sitting at a kitchen table wondering if Harmony is the love of your life.”
“I've never wanted to hit you the way I want to hit you right now.” He took off his hat, straightened the brim and dusted off his pants before grabbing the reins of the horse that had politely waited for him to get off the ground.
“Violence, the first sign of love. Do you know how many times a brother of ours has threatened to hit me in the last couple of years?” Jackson swung down off his horse and gave the dog a command. The blue heeler finished the job of loading the cattle and Jackson stepped inside the stock trailer to close a divider that would keep the cattle in the front portion and leave room for the horses at the rear of the trailer.
Dylan loaded his horse and limped to the front of the truck, ignoring Jackson's questions about his health. No, he didn't need a doctor. And no, he wasn't in love with Harmony Cross.
“End of story,” he muttered as he climbed in the truck. He leaned back and pulled his hat down low over his eyes, blocking out the sunâand the smug face of his brother.
Chapter Nine
H
armony cleaned Dylan's kitchen after he left with Jackson. Cash woke up first, toddling into the room, his thumb in his mouth. She offered him crackers and tea. He sat in the chair and nibbled the crackers and then sipped from the teacup.
She didn't know what else to do for him, and the only person she could call, her mom, was hundreds of miles away in Nashville. If she did call, what would she say to Olivia Cross? She remembered her parting words and cringed.
Rather than calling, she sat at the kitchen table with Cash in her lap and swiped away a few stray tears that trickled down her cheeks. She shouldn't have blamed her parents. Her heart ached at the memory, then she buried it, instead choosing to hug the sleepy little boy curled against her shoulder.
“Harmony, are you crying?” Callie walked through the door from the living room dragging a child-size quilt and a teddy bear.
Harmony smiled and shook her head. “No, sweetie, I'm fine. I made tea that I think will help you.”
“I don't like tea.”
“This is a different kind of tea. It tastes like ginger and cinnamon and apple. Will you take a few sips for me?”
Against her shoulder, Cash nodded. She smiled down at the little boy. She wondered if he remembered his mommy. She knew that Callie did. The little girl had told her earlier that her own mommy used to have blond hair before she got sick. The child's memory had left a lump in Harmony's throat.
Sometimes she thought she remembered her own mother. The memories weren't pleasant. They were of a woman who always looked too thin, who never seemed warm and loving. She didn't want to be a replica of Olivia Cross's sister, Patricia. Her real mother.
“Let's get your tea and we'll go sit in the living room together.” She put Cash on the ground. “Callie, can you take your brother to the sofa?”
Callie nodded, took Cash by the hand and the two tottered off together, the quilt dragging along behind them.
Harmony fixed a second cup of tea and as she did, she dialed a familiar number. When her mom answered, Harmony sobbed.
“Harmony, honey, are you okay?”
She sniffled and brushed away the tears. “I'm good, Mom. I just...” Where did she start? “I'm sorry. I'm sorry for letting you down. I'm sorry for the mess I've made of my life. Most of all, I'm sorry for what I said to you. I need time, but not distance from my family.”
Olivia Cross was silent for a moment, and Harmony wondered if it was too late for apologies. She waited, holding her breath as she stirred honey into the cup, adding an ice cube to cool the liquid.
“Harmony, I love you. You are my daughter in every sense of the word. My sister might have given birth to you, but you are my flesh and blood. Mine. We just want you happy again.”
“I'm working on that. Coming here to Dawson was the right decision. Probably one of the first
right
decisions I've made in a long time.”
“Harmony, can I have soup?” Callie stood behind her, still holding the blanket. From the dirty edges, Harmony thought the child must find a lot of security in the patches of cloth sewn together.
“Of course you can.”
On the other end of the phone her mother cleared her throat. “Who is that?”
“Dylan Cooper's daughter,” she said, looking down at Callie.
“I see.”
No, her mother didn't see. “I'm helping him with the children.”
More silence and Harmony couldn't explain, not with Callie standing by the table watching her. “Mom, I should go. I'll call you soon. But I wanted you to know that I'm doing really well here.”
“I knew you would. Harmony, your dad has some information for you.”
Harmony had found chicken noodle soup in the cabinet and she opened a can while she listened.
“My sister.” Olivia Cross's voice softened. “Your mother is in Missouri. We're trying to find her exact location. If you want to see her.”
Did she want to find the woman that had given birth to her? It wasn't the first lead over the years. In the past she had tried to find Patricia Duncan without telling her parents. Since the accident and everything that followed, Olivia and Gibson Cross had offered their help.
They thought maybe finding Patricia would help her fill the empty spaces in her life.
“I'm not sure.” Harmony set the pan on the stove to heat. “Let me think about it.”
“Okay. If you want, I could go with you.”
Harmony smiled at the offer. “Thank you, Mom.”
The call ended. Callie had decided to sit on the floor. She had her blanket close to her face and her eyes looked sleepy again. “I don't feel good.”
“I know you don't. Can I carry you to the table?” Harmony held out her arms and Callie allowed herself to be picked up. It was a short distance to the table. Harmony held tight and thought about not falling, not failing.
There were people in her life counting on her. She had to count on herself, too. She eased Callie into a chair and went back to the stove for the soup that had started to simmer. As she poured it into two bowls the front door opened. She carried a bowl of soup to Callie.
Dylan walked into the kitchen. No, he limped. She let her gaze slide from his face to the clothes now spotted with dirt and grass stains.
“What happened to you?”
He gimped to the table and pulled out a chair to sit. “Jackson and that half-wild horse he likes to put me on happened to me.”
“Do you need a...”
“Doctor? No, thanks, I'm fine. It isn't the first time I've been thrown.”
She smiled. “I wasn't going to say doctor. I thought maybe you'd like another shower. You stink.”
As she pulled another can of soup out of the cabinet, she looked back at him and saw the flash of a grin. He shook his head and leaned to say something to Callie. Callie laughed at whatever he whispered in her ear.
“No fair, telling secrets,” Harmony warned. “Do you want soup?”
“Soup sounds great. Did you do okay? I mean...” Dylan's cheeks turned a light shade of red.
“We were just fine. They slept most of the time that you were gone.”
“I think I could use a nap, too.” Dylan yawned and Callie did the same. He pulled her into his lap and she settled her blond head against his shoulder.
Harmony turned away from the sight and concentrated on the soup. She waited until it reached a simmer and then she filled a third bowl. After placing the soup in front of Dylan she reached for her purse and then stood awkwardly, not knowing what to say.
“Going somewhere?” Dylan asked as he crunched crackers into his soup.
His eyelashes were long and dark. His hazel eyes were full of questions. She couldn't stay. Not here, with him, with Callie and Cash. She'd never planned this, the attachment she felt to the three of them. Down the road she saw certain heartbreak, and she knew she couldn't handle it.
“I should go. I have to buy cat food and I need milk.”
“Let me walk you out.” Dylan pushed back from the table and settled Callie in the empty chair next to his.
“Your soup will get cold.”
“I can reheat it in the microwave. I'm going to walk you out.”
He didn't take no for an answer, of course. Harmony kissed Callie's cheek and checked on Cash before walking out the front door with Dylan's hand on her arm, strong and supportive.
“You're good with them. Thank you.”
“I didn't mind. They're sweet.” She stopped to rest after making it down the steps of the porch. Dylan stood next to her, studying her face, making her want to know what he planned on saying so she could prepare herself.
“You'll make a good mom someday.”
His words took her by surprise. She hadn't thought about it, about being a mom, anyone's mom. After all, she was her mother's daughter. Her mistakes were proof that DNA mattered more than a loving environment. She had become Patricia Duncan. And Patricia Duncan had abandoned her small child in a parking lot in Arkansas with a note that someone should contact Gibson Cross.
Sometimes she thought she remembered that day. There were times, late at night, that she would wake in a panic, thinking about being alone, being afraid.
They reached her car and Dylan still held her arm, his hand strong but gentle. She looked up into those steadfast hazel eyes and wished she could be a better person, the type of person a man like Dylan Cooper would love. He brushed hair back from her face and his hand remained.
“Dylan, I have to go.”
“Let me do this.” He leaned a little and she felt her heart catch at his meaning. His hand moved to the back of her neck, warm and secure.
“No.” She pulled away, but her heart raced ahead of her, wanting what she knew was wrong for both of them. No relationships, she repeated to herself. No letting anyone else down. Not Callie or Cash. Especially not Dylan.
* * *
Dylan had stumbled into worse things in his life than what he felt at that moment for Harmony Cross. He'd wanted to kiss her years ago when Jackson dared him. But this felt like a tumble, a straight-out falling down, worse than being bucked off of a horse. Harmony had been in his arms, and then she was gone, backing away, her eyes wide and maybe a little fearful.
And he still wanted to pull her close and kiss her. He wanted to tell her he'd been thinking a lot that this was a mistake, this helping-each-other-out business. He wanted to tell her it was the worst thing. And holding her was the worst thing. Because how in the world could he focus on the two kids in the house when Harmony Cross had the most kissable mouth of any woman he'd ever met? Every time he got around her, he wanted to hold her close. For a real long time.
He wanted to help her. He wanted to see her strong. He wanted her to have faith in God, and in herself.
And all of that added up to one big bundle of trouble, because Harmony didn't believe in herself and she sure wasn't going to let anyone else believe in her. But he could still see in her the girl he used to know, the one that acted as if she could not only overcome mountains, but bulldoze her way right through them.
“Dylan.” She sighed a little and he looked down at her.
“Harmony.” He grinned as he said it, hoping to chase away the stormy gray in her blue eyes.
“Don't. Please don't make this complicated. I love Callie and Cash, and I want to keep helping you with them.”
He winked. “Just them?”
“What?”
“You don't love me, too? Not even just a little?”
“I don't love you. I tolerate you and I think you love yourself a lot.” Her smile had reappeared, and he was okay throwing himself under the bus to get that reaction from her. “I'm not ready for anything other than friendship.”
“I know.” He kissed her cheek. “And I'm sorry for pushing. We're not so different, you and I.”
She laughed softly at that. “Yes, we are. You rescue people. I hurt them.”
He didn't ask her to list who she had hurt. It wasn't an imaginary list, he knew that. He knew if he asked, it would bring back memories she'd probably already faced at least once today. He could see the guilt she felt. It flooded her face with emotion and the smile she'd worn moments ago disappeared.
“You're doing a good job of rescuing me and the two kids in that house.” It seemed like a good idea, to remind her that she had done some pretty decent things.
“They're easy to help, Dylan.”
“Yeah, they are. I don't know what I'd do without them.” He remembered last night. “Cash called me Daddy last night. Man, that is a hard one to wrap my mind around. There are steps to being someone's daddy. A wife, having kids, all of the ways it usually happens.”
Moisture gathered in her eyes. She reached for his hand, squeezing. “You are their daddy, though.”
“I guess I am.”
“Speaking of two kids, you should get back in to them and your cold soup.”
“Ah, escaping. Very good.”
“Yes, I have to, because I might say something that we both know would be wrong. As sweet as you are, it would be wrong. I have to put some distance between us. Maybe a few days' worth.”
He opened her car door and even though he didn't agree with what she'd said about distance, he did. After walking back in the house and being confronted with two kids that were still sick, he knew he had to get his focus back where it belonged. Cash woke up, still sick. Callie crawled up in Dylan's recliner and fell asleep.
He was a dad. He guessed those two kids had rescued him as much as he'd rescued them. Because of Cash and Callie, he was a better person. He'd been forced to grow up, to make decisions he might not have made without them.
When his mom showed up it was close to evening. He'd fallen asleep sitting in the rocking chair and woke up when the door opened. He started to stand but a sharp pain in his ribs took his breath.
“Don't tell me you're sick, too?” Angie Cooper set her purse down and surveyed the scene in the living room.
Cash was groggy but awake. Dylan had placed a bucket near the sofa, just in case. Callie was awake, still in his recliner and she had a princess cartoon on TV. Dylan pushed himself to his feet but the pain in his side was a definite reminder that he'd gotten thrown from a horse hours earlier.
“I'm not sick.” He winced as he took a step. “Can I get you a cup of coffee or tea?”
“No, I brought dinner for you. Is Harmony still here?”
He glanced around the room. “Why would Harmony be here?”
“Jackson said she was helping with the kids. I would have come over sooner if I'd known you were alone.”
“Mom, I have it covered. I've been taking care of these kids for a year now.”
“I know you have. But you're home. Why in the world are you so determined to do it all on your own?”
“Because this is my life now, and I have to adjust to being a single dad who raises two kids. My kids.” He looked from Cash to Callie.