Bride Of Dreams

He still couldn’t fully see her face, but he knew she was disappointed.

Oddly enough, so was he.

But not enough to take her hand.

Cooper Night Hawk awoke a good two hours before his alarm was ready to blast him out of bed. Sleep was something he treasured because he knew there was always a chance it would be interrupted.

Tyler might not be the crime capital of the world, but mischief still happened. And some nights he was the one selected to settle it.

He left his bed and headed outside. He filled his lungs with the chilly, clean air in hopes it would clear his head. Cooper settled in one of the chairs by the back door. The wood creaked softly under him as he leaned his head back and looked up at the sky. He liked the idea of counting stars instead of counting sheep.

“You worked so many nights that your body cannot understand why it has to sleep now.”

Cooper cocked a dark eyebrow. “Look who’s talking, old man. You need your rest more than I do.” His voice was filled with gruff affection toward his visitor.

The silver-haired man shook his head, his braids swinging gently. “The time will come soon enough when all I will do is sleep. Until the time comes, I will enjoy what the night has to offer.” Cooper’s grandfather, Laughing Bear, walked slowly over to the chair next to Cooper’s and carefully lowered himself into the seat.

“You’ll still be around telling all the old stories when I’m in my grave,” Cooper argued good-naturedly. “What are you doing up this time of night?”

“The stars are only good when everyone else is asleep,” Laughing Bear informed him in a low, even voice.

Cooper stretched his legs out in front of him, bare feet crossed at the ankle. “How come you’re not sitting by your own house looking at the stars?”

“I do not see them as well up there. That is why I come down here to sit on your porch. The view is nicer down here,” he said calmly. “The Spirits like it better down here, too.”

Cooper shook his head. He knew enough not to voice his disbelief about the Spirits who allegedly accompanied his grandfather wherever he went. Any time he even hinted his doubt of invisible beings, his grandfather would give him that long silent look that spoke volumes. The elderly man never told him how disappointed he was in his grandson’s refusal to accept the legends he grew up with. The sorrow in his eyes was telling enough.

“She is here,” the man said.

Cooper stifled the sigh rising in his throat. Damn him! He wasn’t going to say another word.

No way. No how. This time he wasn’t going to ask. In all the years he and his grandfather had done this form of one-upmanship, the older man always won. Just for once, Cooper wanted to win.

He continued sitting back with his laced fingers resting on his bare abdomen, enjoying the chilly air on his skin. He didn’t have to turn his head to know his grandfather wasn’t looking at him. That was part of the battle of wills that grandfather and grandson had waged over the years.

“She will take a heart while she is here,” Laughing Bear said, breaking the silence once again.

Cooper bit the inside of his cheek. Anything to keep from asking.

He would have been better off talking to one of his grandfather’s spirit friends.

“I can’t imagine she’d want yours. It must be pretty leathery by now,” Cooper said.

Laughing Bear slowly turned to face his grandson. “The heart she takes will be a younger one. A strong heart and more succulent.”

Cooper cocked an eyebrow. “Succulent? Are you reading romance books again, old man?”

Laughing Bear showed no displeasure with Cooper’s irreverent manner of speech. They understood each other only too well. In the beginning, the grandfather had taken care of his orphaned grandson, dealing with his pain and anger at the death of his parents. Now the grandson took care of his grandfather, making sure he saw his doctor on a regular basis and had enough firewood during the winter. With Laughing Bear’s small cabin only a hundred yards away, he was close enough for Cooper to feel as if he could look after him and far enough away so that Laughing Bear could have his privacy and feel a measure of independence. It was a comfortable arrangement for both men.

Every day Cooper saw the stiffness increasing in his grandfather’s body, his eyes dimming with age and his steps growing slower. Cooper didn’t want to think about the day the older man would no longer be here.

“Mrs. Riley brought me one of her peach pies today,” Laughing Bear said.

Not at all what Cooper expected to hear. The faint smile on the older man’s lips told him he knew that.

“Funny. I thought her specialty was blackberry pies.”

“Her blackberry pies are very good, too, but she knows I like her peach pies best.”

Cooper tightened his lips. No sir. Not one word. A declaration that flew right out the window at the prospect of needling his grandfather.

“I heard Mrs. Riley used to put one of those sexual potency drugs in her pies for her husband up until he died,” Cooper said, in the same casual tone his grandfather used. “Some say she’s looking for another husband. I bet the man who shows the most appreciation for her ‘pies’ gets her in the bargain.”

“Mrs. Riley is a nice woman, but she continues to mourn for her husband. She had never allowed his spirit to rest.” Laughing Bear tilted his head back, looking upward. “Another man cannot share a life with her until she decides it is time to let him go.”

Cooper chuckled. “My grandfather, the philosopher.”

“No, a man wanting to stay free.” The older man slowly rose to his feet. “And now a man who is ready to seek his bed.” He shuffled off a few paces before he stopped and turned around. “She will capture your heart, Grandson. It will do you no good to fight the Spirits’ wishes.”

“Are you sure you haven’t been reading vampire stories?” Cooper asked.

Laughing Bear stared at him with dark eyes that may have dimmed over the years but had lost none of their power.

“I wonder what your grandson will say to you when you tell him about the Spirits and their wishes.” Having said his piece, he turned around and slowly walked up the well-worn pathway to his cabin.

“DEPUTY NIGHT HAWK, are you listening to me?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said obediently, pen racing across his pad. “You want whoever did this to be charged with vandalism and anything else we can think of.”

As owner of Gates Department store in Tyler, Nora Gates Forrester was used to people deferring to her. That Cooper wasn’t giving her the attention she felt due her left her irritated.

“I’m beginning to think it’s deliberate,” she said angrily. “I’ve even heard that people claim it was Margaret Ingalls. The woman is dead!’

“Yes, ma’am,” he said obediently.

Cooper wished he hadn’t answered the phone this morning. He wasn’t even due to go on duty yet. Then Hedda, one of their dispatchers, had called and asked if he’d stop by Mrs. Forrester’s house on his way into work.

“Mrs. Forrester…” He paused, well aware that whatever he said wouldn’t be welcome. It hadn’t been appreciated the last four times he’d been out here. He stepped carefully through the verbal minefield. “So far we haven’t been able to come up with any tangible clues as to who is destroying your things.”

The scent of Shalimar invaded his nostrils as she leaned closer. “When personal property is deliberately vandalized, you call the police. That is what I have done, and I expect results.”

Cooper mentally vowed to never answer the phone first thing in the morning. At least not before he had his breakfast.

He looked around the neatly kept yard. He knew a neighbor’s teenage son mowed the lawns every other week, and Mrs. Forrester tended her flowers with the same care a mother gave to her child. As he looked around, his gaze swept across the clothesline that occupied a corner of the yard. Underneath, pieces of brightly colored silk and lace dotted the green lawn—victims of the heinous crime.

He took a deep breath. “There have been some complaints about a goat wandering around in this neighborhood. You’ve got that hole in the back part of your fence and maybe the goat got inside the yard. They’re known for eating anything.”

Mrs. Forrester flashed him a look that implied she thought his idea of an underwear-eating goat ranked right up there with idiocy.