from the bruises Meg sported and the suspicious looks she cast him, the princess had been treated the same.
“Let me try something.” He picked up a piece of meat from his stew and held it out to Sophie. “Look, Sophie. Good stuff.”
More growling. Cooper avoided looking straight at the dog. Looking head-on at the canine would indicate aggression. “It’s okay. Come on.”
Sophie trotted forward, snatched the meat from his outstretched fingers and pranced backward, as if afraid he’d suddenly hit her.
Cooper leaned back, well away from the dog as she ate the meat.
“Good girl,” he crooned.
Sophie sat back and licked her nose.
“Lacey told me you’re good with dogs. You’re a Navy SEAL and Jarrett was your leader. Did you work much with dogs when you were deployed?”
Grief pinched him as he thought of Max. He stiffened. “I’d rather not talk about me. Let’s get you and the furball settled for the night.”
It took a few minutes for the tour. Meg gripped the dog as he showed them the master bedroom upstairs and the bathroom with the old-fashioned claw-foot bathtub. The guest room where she’d sleep was downstairs next to another bathroom. He stood in the living room, wondering if she’d noticed how worn the plaid sofa was, with bits of fabric fraying at the armrest, or how the chair by the fireplace sagged a little too much.
Beneath the northern window overlooking the barn was a small table and two chairs. Brie had found the set at an antiques fair in Maine. He remembered that day so clearly it hurt. He’d taken her for an outing before one of his deployments, and they’d eaten hot dogs at a stand. It was a crisp, cool May day with pink and purple pansies and petunias starting to bloom, and she’d seen that little table with a long scratch down the middle and declared it needed a little TLC and would fit perfectly beneath the window.
He’d sanded, buffed and stained it, and she’d hugged him so tight he could barely breathe.
Soon after, she announced she was going to work in the inner city where she could do more good in protecting women and children. He’d tried to talk her out of it, but Brie was stubborn. So he’d purchased a new bulletproof vest his brother Derek said was the best. Combat Gear Inc.’s vests were lighter and more flexible, allowing Brie to get out of a tight space quicker.
He knew all about getting out of tight spaces.
She’d thanked him over and over when she’d tried on the vest, marveling at how thin and sturdy it seemed. He’d hung up the phone that day, relieved his little sister would be safe.
That body armor had proven faulty when Brie was killed. If he ever found M. E. Franklin, the man whose name was on the corporate documents... His jaw tightened as Coop shook the cobweb of memories from his mind. Had to focus on the present, and Meg, who kept staring at him as if he were an ogre.
“You look really angry,” she whispered.
“Sorry. Just woolgathering. This place used to be my sister’s.”
“Does she mind if I stay here a few days? I don’t plan on being here long.”
Meg wasn’t going to settle here for a while. She probably saw how shabby everything was and figured this wasn’t the Hilton. He wouldn’t force it. “She’s dead,” he muttered.
Ignoring her apology, he focused on building a fire. As the flames caught and flickered, he thought of how homey and cozy the cottage was. Brie had teased him about how he should use it for a tryst with a sexy brunette.
Funny how the princess fit the description. Her body, yeah, just his type, but not the personality. He preferred country girls who loved riding horses, didn’t mind baling hay and enjoyed dancing at the local honky-tonk.
Not wealthy women who carried dogs in designer purses.
After piling wood into the fireplace and igniting it, he dusted off his hands. “There’s plenty of food in the pantry. Thermostat’s on the wall behind the sofa if you get cold. Power may go out in this storm, but the heater is gas so you’ll be set. I’ll leave candles and a flashlight on the hall table.”
Meg sat on the sofa, eyes huge and round as she clutched her dog. “You’re leaving us alone here?”
Damn if she didn’t look lost and forlorn, like a stray puppy. He stood and cleared his throat. “I have to spend the night with Betsy.”
Her expression fell. “I understand. I’m sure your girlfriend wouldn’t like you to stay here with us.”
Cooper grinned. “Betsy’s not my girlfriend. She’s a horse with colic.”
Meg’s eyes widened, and then a lovely smile graced her full lips. She gave a little laugh. “Oh! I thought...”
Admiring the pink flush on her china-doll cheeks, he pointed to the window. “I was going to spend the night in the barn, checking up on her. But I’ll come back here later, make sure you’re okay.”
“You really do care about your animals.”
His throat went tight. “Yeah, and ole Bets is special. She belonged to my sister.”
He didn’t want to launch into an explanation, but Meg nodded and a soft expression filled her face. “Of course. I understand. The animals come first. Because they can’t defend themselves. Your sister would do the same, I’m sure.”
Cooper rubbed a hand across his flannel shirt, suddenly uncomfortable. He hated talking about Brie. Any time her name was mentioned, it sent fresh grief through him, and he had to fight hard to maintain his composure.
“I’ll leave my cell number if you need anything. Barn’s not far.”
“My cell phone couldn’t get a signal, probably because it’s an inexpensive throwaway phone. Otherwise I would have called you.”
“Ah. That’s why you never called. I waited and waited. Hate it when a woman says she’ll call and never does.”
He liked her smile, wished she would relax. But he saw in her eyes the same trauma he’d seen overseas in women who had suffered much.
For a minute he imagined what this must be like for her—homeless, on the run, at the mercy of a stranger. A big stranger. She was so tiny and frail-looking, yet he suspected within hid a core of steel. It took courage to pack up and leave everything you knew. He couldn’t imagine doing it....
“When did your husband beat you?”
At first she didn’t answer, and the pink of her cheeks warned he’d stepped over an invisible line. Coop suspected she was ashamed of the incident and what happened to her.
He gentled his voice. “I only want to know if you need medical attention. If you don’t want to talk about it, tell me.”
Meg’s head bobbed in a jerky nod, and she looked away. “He wasn’t that bad this time. But the time I ran off last year, before my grandmother got sick, that was very bad. I was in the hospital for a week.
