A Cowboy To Come Home To

“I’m a growing boy.” He patted his flat belly and opened the container holding his burger.

She shook her head. “It’s a wonder you’re not the size of a barn.”

She picked up her plastic fork and dipped it into the mashed potatoes and gravy. The food wasn’t piping-hot any longer, but was still quite warm, and as she tasted the first bite she was struck by a pang so bittersweet it made her heart ache.

This was something they might have done in the old days: a bunch of them together, some takeout, hanging out on a Saturday night. Only it wasn’t a bunch anymore, but just she and Cooper. Some of their circle of friends had drifted away, some had left Cadence Creek and gone to work in bigger towns and cities. So little of the past remained. In some ways it was good, but in other ways, Melissa missed it. Up until things had blown apart, there’d been a lot of good times.

“You okay?” Cooper asked, pausing to look at her while holding a French fry.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just thinking about when we were kids, and some of the stuff we used to do on a Saturday night. It sure wasn’t picking up takeout because we were too tired from dealing with ‘real life’ to cook.”

He chuckled. “We all have to grow up sometime. At least mostly.”

He held out the box of onion rings. “Have one. You know you want to.”

She wasn’t sure if she was glad that he remembered her fondness for onion rings or not. It was too much to resist as he waved them under her nose. She reached into the package and took out a round battered ring. When she bit into it, her teeth caught the onion and it came out of the batter. She pulled it into her mouth like a piece of spaghetti.

Cooper laughed. “Good, right?”

“So good,” she admitted.

He put the box between them on the table, an unspoken invitation to share. A peace offering? Was he hoping that the deep-fried treat would accomplish what time had not? It was a big thing to ask from a carton of onion rings.

For the moment, she chose to cut into her meat loaf and peas and carrots.

They were quiet for a few minutes, eating and listening to the breeze whisper through the leaves that still remained on the poplars lining the creek. She didn’t know what to say to him. Talking about the past would only bring up the painful way her marriage had broken apart. And anything else seemed…contrived. Awkward. He ate his burger in silence as she finished her meal, then he handed her another onion ring before taking one for himself and dipping it in ketchup.

“You still like doing that?” she commented.

“Yeah. Ketchup should be a food group all by itself.” He put his empty containers in his bag. She did the same with hers and they left the picnic table, stopping at the garbage cans to deposit their waste.

“Feel better?” he asked quietly.

She did, surprisingly. It wasn’t just the food, either, although she’d been very hungry. She’d had a few moments to breathe, to unwind. Funny how he’d seemed to know she’d needed that. Or maybe she was reading too much into his motives. Maybe it truly was all about eating his dinner while it was hot.

“I do feel better,” she admitted. “I was pretty spooled up after my day.”

“Give me five more minutes, okay? Come with me.”

She frowned but followed. He led her over to the swings. “Sit down.”

“Okay, now you’re being silly. I just want to go home and get off my feet.”

In response, he sat on the swing beside hers. It was set low for kids, and his long legs folded up like a frog’s, but he pushed off anyway and put it in motion. “This gets you off your feet. Look.” He held his booted feet up in the air. He looked ridiculous.

She felt foolish, but sat down and scuffed one shoe in the dirt, making the swing rock a little.

“Hold on to the chains and lean back.”

“Cooper, you’re crazy.”

“Do it, Mel. Lean back and then open your eyes.”

She pushed with her foot a little harder, then gripped the chains between her fingers and leaned back. The breeze from the motion ruffled her hair, making bits of it feather across her cheeks. Slowly, she opened her eyes and looked up.

There were stars. Not too many, but a handful that seemed to rock in the sky as she swayed back and forth. When had they come out? Sometime between leaving the restaurant and eating her dinner in the twilight.

The sky was so big, so endless. She heard a loud sigh and realized it had come from herself. As she watched, more stars appeared out of nowhere. One second vast emptiness, then the next time she looked, pop. There they were, twinkling down at her from the infinite blackness.

“Make a wish,” Cooper suggested.

Her throat tightened. What in the world was she doing, sitting on the swings in the dark with Cooper Ford? “I’m too old for that nonsense. Besides, that’s for the first star you see, and there are at least two dozen right now.”

His voice was low and warm beside her. “Then make two dozen wishes. Wish on every one.”

“Cooper…”

She knew it was stupid and juvenile, but she couldn’t resist. She closed her eyes and made a wish.

Let this time be the one.

All she really wanted was to be a mom. She’d wanted it when she was married to Scott, and they’d supposedly been trying when she’d caught him cheating. The divorce had killed not only their marriage but her dream of a family, too. And she wasn’t interested in getting married again.

But the longing for a family, for a child of her own, hadn’t abated. If she could survive starting her own business and her marriage blowing up, she could handle being a single mom. She certainly didn’t want to marry someone she didn’t love just to make that happen. That made less sense than doing it alone.

She really wanted the pregnancy to take this time. If not, she could look into adoption, but she truly wanted to experience the joy of carrying her baby inside her. There was just something so…complete about it.

“You still here, or are you on another planet?”

Coop’s voice intruded. Her swing had stopped swaying and her arms were twined around the chains, while her face remained tilted toward the sky. She swallowed and opened her eyes. “I’m still here. It takes a while to make twenty-four wishes.”

He chuckled in the darkness. That funny curling sensation wound its way through her stomach again.

She jumped off the swing and brushed her hands down her trousers. “I really do need to get home. I’ve got to be back to work tomorrow to do up all the arrangements for the Madison funeral.”

“All work and no play makes Mel a dull girl.”

She shrugged and reached for her purse. “It happens when you own your own business. You know how it is. There’s no real time clock to punch.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m going to be locked up in my office tomorrow going over paperwork.”

They made their way back to the sidewalk and on toward Melissa’s house. “We really did grow up, didn’t we, Cooper?”

His boots sounded on the concrete, steady thumps that seemed slightly out of place and yet reassuring. “Yes, we did. And some of it was painful.”

Melissa had hoped he wasn’t going to bring it up. She shivered in the rapidly cooling air. Without saying a word, Coop took off his jean jacket and slid it over her shoulders.

“Live and learn.” She injected some lightness into her voice, as if it was no big deal.