A Fallow Heart (5 page)

Brushing against him again and driving him even closer to the brink of lust-induced insanity, Jo Ellen moved ahead to lead the way. He let her. She seemed to know where to go as she took them through a kitchen, then down a hallway to the bottom of a wide, winding staircase. When she started up, Coop released her hand to let her continue by herself. But she tripped on the third step, and a ghastly image of her breaking her neck as she fell down the entire staircase had him reaching out to steady her.

She purred in response and swayed toward him.

“More,” she demanded.

All onboard to deliver and give her whatever she wanted, he groaned. But that single tendril of decency kept snaring him, making him back off.

Frustrated he couldn’t do what he’d always wanted to do, he turned his head aside. “Come on, Jo Ellen. Cut it out. Please. I’m trying to get you home safe and sound here. You’re not helping me out any.”

“But I am home.” She tittered and began to play with his hair, causing currents of heat to trickle down the back of his spine.

He clenched his teeth, wavered toward her, and then tore himself back. “Fine. Do you want me to leave you passed out on the stairs? Or do you me to get you to your bed?”

“Bed,” she slurred. “Only if you crawl in with me.”

Sweat popped out on his face. He cursed under his breath, trying to help her up each step, one at a time, while ignoring the tantalizing trail her fingers made down his chest. Dear God, if she snuck down his pants again, he’d probably—

“Up,” he ordered. He respected this girl. So why did he want to be so very disrespectful right now?

Probably because she tried kissing his neck after she took another step up. He loved it as much as he hated quelling her attempts.

He moved his face aside. “Stop it. I can’t—”

“Need some help?” a low voice at the top of the stairs asked, making Coop about mess his pants. He jerked his head up.

Jo Ellen looked up too. Grinning, she pointed and called, “Grady! Look, it’s Grady.”

“Shh.” Coop slapped a hand over her mouth, though he wasn’t sure why he bothered; her brother had already caught them. Silencing her now seemed pointless.

Two years Cooper’s senior, Grady Rawlings had always intimidated the hell out of him. The oldest Rawlings child had a quiet, intense way about him that made Cooper think he would seriously kick ass if anyone harmed one of his loved ones, say, like one of his eighteen-year sisters.

“I’m home, Grady,” Jo Ellen informed her big brother with a sloppy cheer.

“So I see.” His voice was dry as he moved down the stairs to intercept them.

Coop froze, not sure what to do. “She’s drunk,” he confessed.

Grady treated him to a short glare. “Yeah, I gathered as much. Where’s the other one?”

Blinking, Coop had no idea what he meant. Then it struck him. “Emma Leigh? Uh, she’s still at the party, far as I know. This one stumbled across me, looking for her. So, I thought I’d bring her home.” In an afterthought, he added, “She was wasted by the time I ran into her.”

Grady didn’t respond, just took Jo Ellen’s arm. Coop regretfully let go of his hold. Her brother tried to lead her away, but she looked back at Cooper. Obviously realizing he wasn’t going to follow, she let out an agonized sound and ripped her arm free of Grady, only to dive at Cooper.

“Jo Ellen!” He caught her before she could tumble headlong down the stairs.

She wrapped her arms around him and clung. “Smell so good,” she slurred and kissed his neck.

“Jesus,” he rasped, trying to dodge her seeking hands and mouth, and failing, all the while making sure they both didn’t crash against the railing.

“For God’s sake.
Jo Ellen
!” Grady once again ripped her away from Cooper. “Quit groping Coop.”

“Coop?” she repeated the name and frowned as if she didn’t think that title should apply to him.

Grady pulled her up a step, making her stumble. Cooper lurched forward to steady her, but her brother threw him a blazing scowl. “I’ve got her from here.”

Cooper swallowed and nodded, reversing backward until he reached the ground floor.

“Thank you, Gerhardt,” Grady added a moment later, though he sounded a lot more dismissive than he did grateful. “But if either of my sisters ever need a ride home again. Just call me, okay. I’ll come get her.”

Cooper nodded, duly noting he’d been put in his place. He lingered, watching Grady haul Jo Ellen up the stairs. As soon as they reached the second-floor landing, she looked back.

Seeing him below, she waved her fingers in a sad farewell. He waved back; mouthing the words,
don’t forget
.

* * * *

Cooper woke before the sun rose the next morning. More than ready to get the day underway, he finished his chores early, feeding and watering the calves even before his mom had breakfast on the table. In fact, she was just setting a plate loaded with fried eggs and sausage links in front of his father as Coop pushed his way inside the back door.

Both his parents looked up as he entered. With an apprehensive gulp, he paused to wipe his boots on the welcome mat.

“My goodness, you’re up with the cows,” Loren Gerhardt praised as her eyes lit with motherly adoration. She smiled at her youngest child before turning back to the stove and readying a second plate. “And here I thought you stayed out late with your friends last night.”

Coop flushed. “I did.” He stopped by the sink to wash his hands before he took off his hat, rested it on the back of his chair, and slid into the creaking, old wooden seat next to his father. “But I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d get my chores done early.” As soon as he sat, his mom placed another heaping plateful of breakfast in front of him. He grinned his thanks and dug in.

“Well, that works out just fine for me,” his dad spoke up. “Because I need you to bale the lespedeza in the south field today. Maybe you can get it done before the weather turns too hot.”

Coop’s grin faltered. His fork paused halfway to a link as he glanced at his father. “But I had plans this morning.”

Jo Ellen’s sweet face flittered through his head as he recalled how she’d looked up at him last night when she’d told him she would remember their kiss, and promised she’d break up with Untermeyer for him.

His insides went black just thinking that name. Coop had always suspected Pretty Boy and Jo Ellen had sex, but hearing her admit it last night landed like acid in his stomach. And on top of that, he had to hear how much she didn’t like sex with Untermeyer.

Cooper shuddered. Poor Jo Ellen.

He wasn’t a Casanova by any means. He’d only been with two different girls. But he’d never hurt either of them, and one had been a virgin. He wanted to rip Pretty Boy a new one for causing Jo Ellen any kind of pain.

Oh, who was he kidding? He wanted to kill the guy for defiling her at all, even if she’d loved Untermeyer’s touch.

“Well, if you have plans this morning, then bale the field this afternoon,” his dad grumbled before he took a sip of his black coffee. Coop shook himself back to the present and eyed his father as the old man added, “Doesn’t matter to me if you want to work in the hottest part of the day and sweat your ass off.”

At sixty-five, Thaddeus Gerhardt’s face and forearms had seen so much of the sun they’d wrinkled and dried out over the years, making the man appear worn and aged beyond his time. Even the whites of his eyes had lost their brightness and had long since faded to a dull grey. Studying him, Coop was reminded how hard the old man worked himself.

Slumping his shoulders and dropping his face as he stabbed a sausage link and stuffed it morosely into his mouth, Cooper mumbled, “It wasn’t such a pressing matter.” He’d merely wanted to rush to the Rawlings mansion and steal Jo Ellen away from her dirt bag boyfriend. “I can probably do it this afternoon and bale the field this morning.”

“I said do what you like,” his dad retorted with his usual gruff air. “As long as the grass is baled by the time the sun goes down, I don’t care what time you start.”

Coop speared his father with a dry scowl. “But if I don’t start on it this morning, you’ll probably go and bale it yourself before I get to it this afternoon.”

As his father frowned, his mother laughed. “He’s got you there, Thad. The boy knows his daddy only too well.”

Thaddeus grumbled something under his breath and returned his attention to his breakfast, ignoring both his wife and son. But no matter how tough the old man tried to act, Coop knew his dad was one of the softest individuals he’d ever meet.

As Loren seated herself and started her own breakfast of oatmeal, Coop chewed silently, watching his parents.

He’d been an oops child, born when they were both in their forties after they thought they were finished having children. His two sisters were so much older than him; they’d already moved out and started their own lives. Brendel and Stacia were both married with five kids between them, and Brendel’s oldest son trailed Coop by only six months.

He’d grown up instinctively knowing he’d someday be the one to care for these two when they grew too old to care for themselves. It made him protective of them.

Realizing his father really would do his work for him if he didn’t do it this morning, Coop sighed and revised his plans. Jo Ellen probably wouldn’t be awake yet anyway. She would need to recuperate from her hangover. Then she’d have to contact Untermeyer and break it off with him. Cooper was being too anxious wanting to see her this early; that was all.

So, as soon as he cleared his plate, he pushed his chair back, put his dirty dishes in the washer, and paused to plant a loud, smacking kiss to the crown of his mom’s head before he grabbed his hat and was out the door.

He rushed, making sloppy work of the field. His dad would probably complain when he saw how much hay Cooper left lying in the field, but Coop was too eager and antsy to see Jo Ellen, he didn’t even care. He’d go over it again tomorrow…if his dad didn’t get to it first.

He finished baling by late morning. His mom would have lunch on the table in under an hour. As Coop stored the tractor back in the barn and paused to unhook the baler, he debated with himself if he should wait until after lunch or head over to the Rawlings’ house now.

He’d have less time to visit Jo Ellen if he left now, but he’d get to see her sooner if he didn’t wait until later. Then again, if he showed up over there so close to dinnertime, maybe the Rawlings would invite him to eat with them, in which case he’d have the rest of the day to spend with her.

Mind made up, Cooper hopped into the shower as soon as he made it back to the house. Afterward, he tugged on some fresh clothes, his Sunday best. Finally clean and impatient, he started toward the big mansion.

He couldn’t say guilt bothered him about being the reason Jo Ellen was going to break up with Untermeyer. He gained a spiteful satisfaction from it, actually. But vengeance wasn’t the consuming thought tumbling around in his head as he pulled into the Rawlings drive and lumbered his old rattletrap down the long path to their front door. No, the most intense thought, overshadowing all else, was the fact he was about to see her again. His blood warmed just thinking about it.

Anxious for even a glimpse, he strained in his seat, keeping an eye on the front door as he parked. It wasn’t as if he expected her to burst from the house and charge toward him; she didn’t even know he was coming. Though he had to admit it’d be a nice sight if she did do that.

Scrubbing his suddenly damp palms on the top of his thighs, he blew out a breath and pushed open his door. He was so intent about his mission to reach the front porch; he didn’t even notice others outside until he heard a shout.

“Hey! Hold it steady.”

Cooper glanced over to spot the two Rawlings sons grappling with a fifty-five-gallon oil drum and trying to load it into the back of a tailgate.

“I’m trying,” Caine Rawlings muttered, his face going from bright red to purple as he heaved. Being only thirteen, he couldn’t pull as much weight as twenty-year-old Grady, and the entire barrel tilted his way, splaying a nasty glop of black liquid over the side.

Changing directions, Coop jogged toward the two and immediately leant his weight to Caine’s end, helping the little guy lift his load. When Caine looked over his shoulder and saw Cooper, his shoulders sagged. He immediately stepped back, letting Coop take on his half of the work.

Not prepared for the added weight, Coop grunted and the cask slanted even further his way, threatening to tip over completely. Slimy oil spilled over the side and sprayed his temple and shoulder, running down his front and back and soaking his button-up western shirt.

“Caine!” Grady scolded, struggling to help straighten the drum.

“What? Coop’s like three times bigger than I am. I figured he could handle it.”

“I got it,” Coop muttered, closing one eye so oil wouldn’t drip in it. “I just didn’t think you’d let go so fast.”
Or at all
.

“Oh,” Caine said, realizing his mistake. He cringed. “My bad.”

Both Cooper and Grady ignored him as they lifted the barrel in unison and perched it on the edge of the tailgate.