even born. Your uncle has a right to be upset. So does Grandpa. The two of them have a lot of talking to do, but that’s kind of hard with Grandpa not being able to talk.” Millie would be lying if she didn’t admit to also harboring a deep well of resentment toward her husband’s brother. But acting on that now wouldn’t get the chickens in from the cold or make sure the cattle were okay or perform Clint’s morning bathing routine.
“Mom?” LeeAnn picked up a chicken, stroking her neck until the creature happily cooed. Millie thought it was Cluck—the kids had them all named, but she couldn’t keep them straight. “Do you still miss Daddy?”
The question caught Millie off guard and raised a lump in her throat. “Of course. I think about him every day.”
“Good.” She set down the chicken to hug Millie. “I didn’t like it when Uncle Cooper rubbed your shoulders the way Daddy used to. My friend Julie’s mom and dad got divorced, and now her mom married some new guy who Julie doesn’t like. I don’t want you to be with anyone else.”
“Honey, where is all of this coming from?” Millie tipped up LeeAnn’s chin, searching her dear features. “Your father meant the world to me. He always will.”
“Promise?”
Millie had just nodded when J.J. and Cooper laughed their way through the back door. Both carried squawking hens and were red-cheeked and coated in a dusting of snow. The vision of her smiley son warmed her more efficiently than a roaring fire. As for the fire in her belly Cooper’s whisker-stubbled jaw evoked, well, she just wasn’t going there.
“You should see it, Mom!” J.J.’s nose ran, so she handed him a paper towel to use to wipe it. “That tree smooshed the chicken coop like Godzilla! Bam! Rwaar!”
“It’s that bad?” she asked Cooper.
“’Fraid so.” His expression was grim. “It’s a wonder none of the occupants were hurt.”
A series of muffled growls erupted from Clint’s room.
Millie punctuated those with her own groan.
“Want me to check on him?” Cooper offered.
“Thanks, but the mom in me thinks you two should be grounded from each other.”
Judging by Cooper’s scowl, he disagreed with her judgment. “Whatever. J.J.? Wanna check the cattle with me?”
“Yeah!” His supersize grin faded. “But I need to build the chicken fence first. Can you wait?”
“I’ll do you one better—while you work on the fence, I’ll grab some plywood and straw from the barn. We’ll use it to protect your mom’s floor until we rig a heat lamp in the barn.”
“Okay!” J.J. dashed outside for more wood.
“Cooper...” Millie’s mind reeled. Too much was happening too fast. LeeAnn making her promise to never love another man besides Jim. Chickens in her kitchen. J.J.’s instant connection with his uncle. LeeAnn’s instant hatred of him. Toss Clint and way too much snow into the mix and Millie’s plate wasn’t just full, but spilling over onto her now filthy kitchen floor. “Do you think it’s wise to take J.J. out to check the cattle?”
“Why wouldn’t it be? He’s already bundled up. I assume he can ride?”
“Well, sure. Jim had him on horseback practically since he learned to walk.”
Cooper sighed. “Then what’s the problem?”
Where did she start? Her son was beyond precious to her. Along with his sister, the duo had been her reason for living ever since Jim died. As much as one part of her appreciated Cooper riding in on his white horse disguised as a ratty old pickup, another part of her resented his very presence. She and Clint had managed on their own for all these years and didn’t need Cooper showing up, thinking he had all the answers. Only the joke was on her, because at the moment, as overwhelmed as she was—he did.
A fact that scared her to her core.
Because Cooper might be a dependable, stand-up guy in the Navy. But when it came to his track record on being around when his family needed him most? His stats were an abysmal 1-288-0. A single, early-morning chicken rescue hardly made him a trustworthy man.
Cooper gritted his teeth against the icy assault that had him pulling his hat brim lower and his coat collar higher. Clouds may have cleared, making way for blinding sun, but the wind had only grown stronger, driving the dry twelve inches of snow into an otherworldly landscape of towering drifts and bare earth.
“Sorry, girl.” He leaned forward, stroking Sassy’s mane.
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.
