don’t know, do you consider your family trying to help a good thing?”
She shrugged and her attention refocused on the two kids in the back of his truck. “It can be. And sometimes it’s overwhelming.”
“Yeah, exactly. I know they mean well, but sometimes a person needs to be able to breathe and think about their next step.”
Maybe they had more in common than she’d realized. “That’s why I came to Dawson,” she admitted, “but it seems I can’t escape, because even here there’s a steady stream of people knocking on my door.”
Not that she didn’t appreciate the offers. She really did.
Dylan reached for the door of his truck but paused, his hand dropping to his side. He smiled and she didn’t know what to think. His smile worried her. And it shifted her off balance. All at the same time.
She needed all the balance she could get these days.
“We could throw them off our scent, you know.”
“What does that mean?” She really shouldn’t have asked. She knew Dylan. As a kid she’d gotten in trouble more than once because she’d gone along with his crazy schemes.
“We could team up. If they think we’re in each other’s lives, helping each other out, they might back off.”
It took her a minute to really get the meaning of his plan, then she shook her head. “You must really think I’m desperate if you think I’m going to pretend we’re in a relationship.”
“I don’t think you’re desperate, Princess.” He used the old nickname and winked. “I just think that you’d like a little peace and quiet to get your life together. Like me. I’ve been taking care of Cash and Callie by myself for a year, but now that I’m back in town, people think I don’t know one end of a diaper from the other.”
“I have to admit I wouldn’t think you knew that.”
He laughed easily, something that she envied. “I’m a Cooper, Harmony. I have eleven siblings. Our home has been the stopping point for more foster children than I can count and I have tons of nieces and nephews. Of course I can change a diaper. My mom never believed in separate duties for the males and females in our family. She’s an equal-opportunity chore giver.”
There was a lot to admire about Angie Cooper, a lady who could command a family as large as hers with love and grace. Harmony’s own mother was just as loving, but a family of three children had seemed tiny compared to the Coopers.
“So?” Dylan nudged her arm.
“No. There is no way I’m going to ‘team up’ with you.” There was no way she could handle Dylan in her life. Her heart couldn’t handle it if she let him down. Or those two children. She’d hurt too many people already. The other reason would make more sense to him. “Dylan, I’m working hard to be a recovering addict. And one of the goals for myself is no lying.”
“I’m not asking you to lie. I’m offering an exchange of services. I’ll be here to help you out when you need me. And you help me out from time to time. Everyone is satisfied. And I’ll no longer be pegged as the bachelor in town most in need of a wife.”
“I think the answer is still no.”
He sniffed his shirt. “But why? I don’t smell bad.”
“You’re nothing but trouble, Dylan Cooper.”
“I promise, no one is going to ground us.” He reached for the truck door again. “Think about it. We don’t have to lie. We just have to team up. We’ve already called a truce, right? So if we help each other out, that’s a handy excuse when someone calls to check on us. You can say Dylan has it covered. I can say you’re helping with the kids.”
“And I’m still saying no. I’m here if you need me, but needing space is about needing space.”
He climbed up inside the beat-up old truck cab and started the engine. “I’ll see you around then, Princess.”
She stepped back and watched him drive off. No, she wouldn’t see him around. She was going to hibernate here on the ranch and give herself time to find her life again. She wasn’t in Dawson to get involved in the lives of the people she’d once known. The last thing she needed in her current condition was a distraction.
Dylan Cooper, with his hazel eyes and bad-boy smile was just that, a distraction. His dark, curly hair was a distraction. His swagger, all cowboy with faded jeans, also a distraction.
She walked back to the corral, proud of the way she’d made it through the day. Each day got easier. She used the cane less. She cried less. More and more she believed she might survive. Today she’d managed to smile more. She’d even laughed.
Because of Dylan and those two children. She could admit he’d brought a lightness she hadn’t felt in a long time. Because Dylan didn’t allow her to be a victim.
In the first few months after the accident, she’d wanted to die. She’d wanted to give up. She’d found ways to numb herself to the physical pain, and to the emotional pain that often hurt worse.
Her best friend had been driving the night of the car accident because Harmony hadn’t been sober enough to get behind the wheel. She stood at the corral watching the horse graze on what grass there was in the small enclosure. It wasn’t enough to hurt him. She’d have the vet come out tomorrow to check him and make sure he didn’t need more than grass and grain.
Beau turned to look at her, his ears twitching as he sniffed the air. She whistled softly and he took a few steps in her direction but the grass distracted him again.
It didn’t take long for her back and legs to give out. Harmony limped back into the barn and sat down on an upturned bucket. She leaned her head against the wall and waited for the pain to subside, at least enough to make it to the house. Her mind filled with thoughts of Amy. She kept her eyes open, because if she closed them she would see the flash of lights as a truck ran a stop sign. She would hear the crash of metal and see her friend, lifeless in the driver’s seat.
In the silence her heart moved toward God, praying for peace and strength to get through.
When she finally walked out of the barn, the sun was a hazy fixture hanging in the western sky. As she crossed the lawn toward the house, she heard a child laughing and realized it came from the little house just across the field from her place. The house sat on Cooper land. And even from a distance she could see Dylan Cooper in the front yard.
She watched them, smiling when Dylan lifted Callie to his shoulders. She could hear the faint laughter, carried on the breeze. A truck pulled up her drive and stopped. She smiled at Wyatt Johnson, pastor of Dawson Community Church, and his wife, Rachel. It was their second visit this week. She knew she had her dad to thank for that. Since getting to town she’d also had visits from various members of the Cooper family.
“Hi, Wyatt, Rachel,” she greeted them as they got out of their truck.
“We were on our way home from town and thought we’d stop by and see if you need anything.” Wyatt’s gaze fixed on the corral and his eyes narrowed. “Is that the horse from over at Bill Tanner’s? Terry’s horse?”
“It
