Second Chance Hero (5 page)

She headed for the kitchen, where she found Joy and Aunt Betty preparing lunch. Verity still felt the need to reassure herself that her baby was okay.

Aunt Betty looked up. “How's our patient doing?”

“He's settled in the infirmary.” Verity moved to stand behind Joy's chair and placed a hand lightly on the girl's shoulder. “Hopefully he'll sleep for a few hours.”

Her aunt nodded. “Poor man. Sleep's the best thing for him.”

“Before he fell asleep, he reminded me that he has a dog.” Joy's head went up at the mention of the animal. “I assured him I'd see to it while he's laid up.” She gave her aunt a diffident look. “I can check on it several times during the day, of course. But I was wondering what you would think about my bringing the animal here instead. I know Uncle Grover doesn't like house pets, but it's a small dog, so it shouldn't be much trouble.”

Her aunt hesitated for just a moment, then spoke. “Of course you should bring it here. I'm sure your uncle will agree, it's the least we can do for the man who saved our little Joy.”

“Thank you.” Relieved, Verity rushed to reassure her aunt. “And don't worry, I'll make sure the animal doesn't get in your or Uncle Grover's way.”

Aunt Betty gave her a gently chiding look. “Verity dear, this is your and Joy's home now, too. You must learn to treat it as such.”

Only it wasn't, not really. Verity felt that longing again to have a house of her very own. If only she could open a millinery shop with some assurance it wouldn't fail.

Joy, who was practically squirming in her seat, looked up. “Are you really going to get Beans?”

Verity smiled at the hopeful expression on her daughter's face. “I am. Would you like to come with me?”

Joy immediately slid from her chair. “Yes, ma'am.”

As she and Joy headed out a few minutes later, Verity found herself moving with a bounce in her step. She tried to tell herself that it was just an eagerness to get this errand taken care of, but she knew better. Was it wrong of her to be so intrigued by the idea of getting a peek at Mr. Cooper's lodgings?

Then she pulled her shoulders back. Of course not. It was nothing more than a natural urge to learn more about the man who'd saved her daughter's life.

Or at least that's what she told herself.

Chapter Five

O
bviously excited by the idea of seeing Beans again, Joy chattered all the way to Mr. Cooper's place. Fortunately, most of her comments were directed to her doll, Lulu, and didn't require a response from Verity. She kept firm hold of her daughter's hand the whole time, but her mind kept drifting to thoughts of what Mr. Cooper's place might look like and if it would provide new insights into the man himself.

When they arrived, Verity spotted Calvin Hendricks seated on the bench that sat between the apothecary and the saddle shop. Calvin was a local youth who was fast approaching adulthood. Apparently he'd been the one tapped by Sheriff Gleason to keep an eye on Mr. Cooper's shop.

“Hi there, Miz Leggett.” Calvin stood, then turned to her daughter. “And hello, Joy. I sure am glad to see you walking around and looking good as new.”

“Mr. Cooper saved me,” Joy said, as if it was momentous news. Which, as far as Verity was concerned, it was.

“That he did. And it was right heroic of him, too.” Calvin turned back to Verity. “How's he doing?”

“He's got some painful bruises, a gash on his arm and a sprained ankle, but thankfully nothing that won't heal. Uncle Grover stitched him up and he's resting at the clinic.” She waved toward the saddle shop. “I'm here to fetch his dog and a change of clothes, and to get his key so we can lock the place up.”

Calvin nodded. “Anything I can help with?”

“Thank you, but no. It shouldn't take me more than a few minutes.”

“Well, if you change your mind, I'll be right out here.” And the youth sat back down on the bench, as if to demonstrate he wasn't going anywhere.

Verity opened the shop door and stepped inside. She and Joy were immediately greeted by a yipping ball of excited dog. Joy stooped down to greet the animal and quickly had her face washed in doggie kisses.

Verity carefully closed the door behind them, unwilling to risk Beans running out and Joy following him in a repeat of the earlier mishap.

Deciding to tackle the matter of clothing first, she headed toward the stairs at the back of the shop. She slowly crossed the room, studying her surroundings with keen interest. The place had a definite masculine feel—all leather and wood and metal.

Harnesses and leather straps of various lengths and widths hung from pegs on the wall to her right. There was a worktable to her left. A selection of tools, most of which she didn't recognize, were displayed there. They were neatly arranged and organized, though his system wasn't immediately obvious. She imagined him working here, wearing the heavy canvas apron that hung on a peg behind the table, his head bent over his work, his strong, callused hands wielding those strange tools, his arresting blue eyes focused on his work.

The smell of leather hung heavy in the room, so strong she could almost taste it. Under that scent, she could also detect the aroma of oil and just a faint tang of metal.

Only when she reached the bottom of the stairs did Verity realize her daughter hadn't followed her. Appalled by her lack of attention so soon after Joy's accident, she spun around. “Come along,” she said, holding out her hand. “We need to fetch something from Mr. Cooper's room upstairs.”

Joy's lower lip pushed out in something suspiciously like a pout. “But I want to stay down here and play with Beans.”

“Beans can come with us.”

Her daughter's expression cleared. “Okay.” She stood and waved to the dog. “Come on, Beans.”

The dog obediently trotted at her heels, then bounded up the stairs with her.

The staircase led up to a landing that had an open sitting room straight ahead and a kitchen to the right. The rooms were stark, with only a bare minimum of furniture. Perhaps Mr. Cooper just hadn't had the time, or the funds, to do much more. But surely he would have brought some personal possessions with him, from his former home.

There was a door off to her left that she assumed led to his bedchamber. “Joy, you and Beans can play right over there. I won't be but a minute.”

She marched to the door, then hesitated before opening it. It suddenly seemed invasive to enter his private space, even if she did have his permission. Which was silly. She was only going to fetch him a change of clothing and then leave. And she did have his permission to be here, after all.

Verity opened the door and stepped inside. A quick glance around showed a neatly made bed, a wooden chair and a small bedside table. On the opposite wall was a trunk and the wardrobe. Everything looked as if it had seen better days.

She noticed a picture on the bedside table, and her curiosity got the best of her. She went closer and discovered it was the image of a young woman. She was quite lovely, in a delicate, fragile sort of way. Her clothes were fine quality, her heart-shaped face very sweet and delicate. She had an ethereal quality to her and seemed to be everything Verity was not. Was this the kind of woman Mr. Cooper admired?

Who was she? She was obviously someone who meant a great deal to him as it was the only picture, the only personal item really, in the room. A family member? A sweetheart? And where was she now?

Verity straightened abruptly and turned away. What was she doing? She had no right to snoop into Mr. Cooper's personal life. He'd given her permission to take care of some necessities for him, not snoop into things that were none of her business. She marched to the wardrobe, grabbed a clean shirt and pair of trousers, then headed back out.

“Come along, Joy, time to go.”

As she descended the stairs she thought how different his clothing smelled from what Arthur's had. Where her husband's had smelled of antiseptic, soap and cigars, Mr. Cooper's smelled of leather, of course, but also soap and something faintly woodsy.

She decided that she liked it.

* * *

Nate woke from his nap to see flowers floating in front of his eyes. What in the world—

Was he still dreaming?

“Do you like them?”

The flowers, which he now saw were in a glass jar, floated to the side and the little girl holding them finally came into view.

“Well, hello there, Joy. Does your mother know you're in here?”

“I just wanted to give you these,” she said, not answering his question. She held the flowers out toward him a little more. “Do you like them?” she asked again.

“They're lovely.”

Apparently this was the correct response, because her face split with a grin. “They're for you. From me and Lulu.” She proudly held them out to him.

“Why, thank you. But who's Lulu?”

The child held out her doll. “My dolly.”

He looked the doll in the “eyes.” “Very nice to meet you, Lulu.” Then he turned back to Joy. “The flowers are nice, but may I ask why you are giving me such a nice gift?”

“You rescued me and Lulu. You're a hero.”

There was that word again. “It was my pleasure. But little girls really shouldn't play in the street.”

“That's what Mama told me, too.” Her tone wasn't particularly penitent. “But I wasn't really playing in the street. I was trying to catch Buttons.”

“Buttons?”

“That's Miss Hazel's cat. He likes to have me chase him.”

Nate let the girl's interpretation of the cat's motives stand. But he had a feeling Mrs. Leggett was going to have her hands full raising this one. “I see. But you still shouldn't have gone out in the street.”

Joy pursed her lips in a stubborn line. Then she smiled. “I'll put your flowers right here on the table where you can see them whenever you want to.” She put words to action, then came back to stand beside him. “Everyone is saying you're a hero. What's a hero?”

Now, how was he supposed to answer that? “First of all, I'm not a hero. I was just the first one to get to you. But to answer your question, a hero is a person who does something for other people who need help, without worrying about what it might cost him.”

“Oh.” She pondered that for a while then waved toward his bandaged arm. “Does it hurt a lot?”

He was touched by the worried look in her eyes. “I've had worse.”

She hugged her doll to her chest. “It's my fault, isn't it?”

Another tricky question. He studied her woefully guilty expression, wondering how best to answer her. But before he could say anything, Joy spoke again.

“I'm sorry. And Lulu's sorry, too.”

He smiled. “Apology accepted.”

She brightened and changed the subject. “Beans is in the kitchen with Aunt Betty. We gave him some of the scraps from lunch. Me and Mama brought him here so he could be close to you. Do you want me to go get him for you?”

“Not right now—”

The door opened behind the little girl, and Mrs. Leggett came in carrying a tray. He sat up straighter, his stomach reacting to the delectable aromas with a rude rumble.

Mrs. Leggett, however, was staring at her daughter rather than him. “Joy, what are you doing in here?”

Her daughter looked at her as if that was a particularly silly question and waved toward the makeshift posy. “I brought Mr. Cooper some flowers, see? You said we should always thank people who do nice things for us.”

He saw the woman struggle with whether or not to chastise the girl. “True,” she said, finally. “But bothering Mr. Cooper is not a good way to thank him. I hope you didn't wake him from his nap.”

“She wasn't bothering me,” Nate said quickly. “I woke up on my own. But it was nice to have such a pretty face to wake up to.”

And nicer still to have Mrs. Leggett's smiling presence here with him. Even if that smile was currently directed at her daughter.

* * *

Verity smiled as Joy preened at Mr. Cooper's compliment. He was a much more thoughtful man than she'd first assumed. She set down her tray and turned back to Joy. “We'll discuss this later. Why don't you go check on Beans?”

“Yes, ma'am.” Before heading for the door, Joy turned back to the patient. “Thank you again for saving my life, Mr. Cooper. And I think you're wrong. You really
are
a hero.” And with those words she skipped out of the room.

Once Joy disappeared out the door, Verity turned to her daughter's rescuer and shook her head. “I'm afraid Joy is much too impulsive. I hope she wasn't bothering you.”

“Not at all.” He sat up straighter and she hurried to his side, setting the tray down and plumping pillows behind him. All part of being a nurse.

He inhaled deeply. “Whatever you brought in with you smells wonderful.”

“It's that bowl of my aunt Betty's chicken and dumplings I promised you. I thought you might be ready for something to eat.”

He smiled and she liked the way it softened his entire face. “You thought correctly.”

Verity lifted a napkin from the tray and handed it to him, then carefully set the tray on his lap. “How's this?”

“Fine, thank you.”

Then, as she took the spoon, he frowned. “There's no need for you to wait on me.”

“Are you sure?” She'd been rather looking forward to feeding him. “I know your arm and shoulder are injured.”

“Just on my left side. My right arm is fine.”

“Very well.” She surrendered the spoon reluctantly. But for some reason she wasn't quite ready to leave. After all, she needed to keep an eye on him to gauge his condition.

“I locked up your shop when I fetched Beans,” she said. Then she waved a hand to the small dresser across from his bed. “Your change of clothes is in the upper drawer and the key is on top.”

“Thank you.” He scooped up another spoonful of the chicken and dumplings, his gaze never leaving hers. “How long did I sleep?”

“About four hours. It's after one o'clock.”

He grimaced and she hurried to reassure him.

“No, that's a good thing. You needed the rest. It helps you to heal faster.” He didn't appear convinced, so she changed the subject. “How does your leg feel?”

“Better.”

Not a very descriptive answer. “Uncle Grover should be in shortly to change the dressing on your arm and also have another look at your other injuries.”

“Perhaps then he'll see that I can manage well enough to go home.”

Why was he in such a hurry to leave them? There certainly wasn't anyone at his place to rush home to. Instead of responding to his comment, however, she crossed the room to open the curtains. “Let's let a little more light in here, shall we?”

When she returned to his side, she lifted the tray with the now empty bowl and smiled down at him. “Would you like some more?”

“Not now, thank you. But please relay my compliments to your aunt. That was very good, especially compared to my own cooking.”

Was he dismissing her? Perhaps he wanted to rest some more. “Is there anything else I can get for you?”

He seemed to hesitate a moment, then raised a brow in question. “Something to read perhaps?”

That was unexpected. “Of course. What sort of books do you like?”

“What do you have on hand?”

“I'm afraid Uncle Grover's library consists mostly of medical tomes and journals. I believe Aunt Betty has some books of poetry and some devotionals. I have a volume of poetry, some Shakespeare, Dickens and a few of Mr. Twain's novels. And of course some children's stories for Joy. Oh, and I think I also still have a copy of yesterday's
Turnabout Gazette
if you haven't seen it.” She waved a hand. “If none of that is of interest, I'd be glad to find you something at Abigail's library. Just let me know what sorts of books appeal to you.”

“I've read Shakespeare and Dickens. Perhaps I'll try Twain. And I believe I will take a look at the
Gazette
.”

Apparently he was well educated. Now that she thought on it, there was a certain refinement that crept into his speech from time to time. It embarrassed her that she'd made so many wrong assumptions about this man. She should know better than to jump to judgments.