Her Forever Cowboy

Determined to start over, Harmony Cross returns to Dawson, Oklahoma. She needs time and space—not complications. Especially not in the form of the charming Dylan Cooper. But the handsome cowboy is not the man Harmony remembers. Now he’s a single dad with two sweet and vulnerable children to take care of. Harmony never thought she’d see the day—not only is Dylan more kindhearted than she ever imagined, but she’s falling for the last man she ever thought she’d love. Can this unlikely hero give her a perfect forever?

Cooper Creek: Home is where the heart is for this Oklahoma family

“Do all men fall at your feet, Harmony Cross?”

“Maybe I was wrong. Maybe you haven’t changed.”

He smiled a little, and she saw the lurking sadness again.

“Oh, I think we’ve both changed.” He swung the back of the trailer open. “And I’m sorry for baiting you that way. Old habits and all.”

“You’re right. Maybe we should call a truce?”

A truce would mean, what? Being friends? The idea felt a little bit dangerous.

“I’m not sure exactly why we need a truce,” Dylan said as he stepped up into the trailer and reached for the horse’s tail. “Come on, Beau, head on out of there.”

Dylan closed the back of the trailer and then the gate. “You understand you can’t ride him.”

“You understand that I’m very aware of what I can and can’t do.”

“Why are you so defensive?” he countered.

“Because I’m here to get away from people who feel I need to be told at every turn what I can and can’t do.”

“So what you’re saying is, you’ve had all of the advice you can handle for a lifetime?” He smiled. “I guess we have more in common than you’d like to admit.”

BRENDA MINTON

started creating stories to entertain herself during hour-long rides on the school bus. In high school she wrote romance novels to entertain her friends. The dream grew and so did her aspirations to become an author. She started with notebooks, handwritten manuscripts and characters who refused to go away until their stories were told. Eventually she put away the pen and paper and got down to business with the computer. The journey took a few years, with some encouragement and rejection along the way—as well as a lot of stubbornness on her part. In 2006 her dream to write for Love Inspired Books came true. Brenda lives in the rural Ozarks with her husband, three kids and an abundance of cats and dogs. She enjoys a chaotic life that she wouldn’t trade for anything—except, on occasion, a beach house in Texas. You can stop by and visit at her website, www.brendaminton.net.

Single Dad Cowboy

Brenda Minton

www.millsandboon.co.uk

When you pass through the waters,

I will be with you; and when you pass through

the rivers, they will not sweep over you.

When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze.

—Isaiah 43:2

To Hannah.

And to the readers of Cooper Creek, for the emails, the encouragement and prayers along the way.

I hope you enjoy Dylan’s story.

A big “thank you” to my editor Melissa Endlich

for her wisdom and patience.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Epilogue

Dear Reader

Questions for Discussion

Extract

Chapter One

The farmer stood his ground, his jeans loose, his button-down shirt frayed, with one button missing. Harmony Cross didn’t back down, though. She couldn’t back down. She also couldn’t explain why the horse in his corral mattered so much to her. But the skinny Appaloosa, black with a smattering of white on its rump, mattered. Possibly more than anything had ever mattered in her whole life.

She needed this horse. She needed something to pour her heart into, something that would love her in return and maybe, just maybe, help her find a way back to the person she used to be.

“I don’t know why you think I’m not taking care of that animal.” The old farmer, with a gray grizzled beard and sunken, hazy brown eyes, scratched his chin, as if he really didn’t get it. “I just rode him in the rodeo last night.”

“No, you didn’t,” Harmony countered, nearly smiling, yet not. “I’ll give you double what the animal is worth.”

“I’m not selling that horse. He’s a national champion.”

Harmony glanced at the skin-and-bones animal. “No, he isn’t. I’ve been driving by here for a week, and every day that horse is reaching across the fence trying to get one blade of grass. He’s starving.”

He pointed a finger at her that trembled. “I don’t care if you are Gibson Cross’s kid. You aren’t going to talk to me that way, missy.”

So, he knew who she was. Even though she’d tried to keep a low profile since she showed up in Dawson, Oklahoma, a week ago there would always be talk. There would always be people wanting to help. There would always be people who thought they knew where her life had gone wrong and what she needed to do to get back on track.

She’d come here looking for a place to hide, to get her life together because no one knew how much she hurt inside. The physical pain was nothing compared to the heartache of losing her best friend, the guilt that plagued her daily, and the nightmares.

At twenty-six, finding herself didn’t come easy.

At twenty-six, she had a list. Not a bucket list, but a list for moving forward. First, stay clean. Second, be physically whole again. Third, find a place to be herself, without everyone trying to help. Fourth, stay clean. And fifth—somehow come to terms with the fact that Amy would never call her again.

The horse had been an impulsive thing; it didn’t really fit into her plans. Each time she drove by the farm, she saw the animal. And each time her heart got a little more involved. This time she’d stopped. She looked from the horse to Mr. Tanner.

“Look, the horse is just in that corral doing nothing but grazing rocks and dirt.” She softened her voice to one of sympathy. Because she did feel bad for the farmer who lived in the tiny square of a house, the front porch sagging on one end. He looked as hungry as his horse. Selling the animal to her could mean money he didn’t have, maybe buying groceries he needed. So why was he being so stubborn? She wanted to ask, but knew the question would set him off again.

“I know what that horse is doing. He’s waiting for my grandson to come home to work with him. I’m not selling.”

“Maybe your grandson has outgrown the animal. It happens. They start looking at girls, driving cars, and horses lose their importance.” It had happened to her. She tried not to let the memories slide back into her mind, memories of losing herself. Somewhere along the way, she’d lost the horse-crazy girl who loved to run barrels, build a bonfire and sing in church. The girl who knew herself.

That girl had lost herself in a life far from Dawson.

The old man, Mr. Tanner, shook his head and moisture filled the hazy brown eyes. “Get out of here.”

“Mr. Tanner, I just want...”

He moved toward her, taking a quick step, grabbing her arm with a hand that shook. “Get back in that shiny car of yours and go. The horse isn’t for sale.”

Time for a new tactic. “Then I won’t buy him. I’ll take him to my place and feed him. Your grandson can come and see him if he decides he likes horses again.”

Mr. Tanner brushed at his eyes and shook his head. “Terry died in Afghanistan.”

Harmony closed her eyes briefly as a wave of grief slid through her heart. “I’m so sorry.”

A truck pulled up the drive. A dinged and dented extended-cab truck that she didn’t recognize. It rolled to a stop. The man inside sat there a minute, his hat pulled low over his eyes.

“Just what we need is a Cooper showing up and butting into my business,” Mr. Tanner growled, giving her a narrow-eyed look.

“I didn’t invite him,” she tossed back.

Harmony turned toward the truck and the cowboy getting out. She was suddenly tired, and her body was starting to react to standing for so long. She hadn’t thought this would be so difficult, buying a skin-and-bones horse. Nothing had been easy since the accident a little less than a year ago.

New Year’s Eve would mark the one-year anniversary. It wasn’t an anniversary she wanted to celebrate. New Year’s Eve would never be a fun-filled holiday again. She would never bring in another year without thinking of that phone call, asking her best friend to pick her up because she was so drunk she couldn’t drive.

“Dylan Cooper, been a mite too long since I seen you in these parts.” Mr. Tanner’s words shook her back to the present. She looked up as Dylan Cooper walked with a slow, easy gait in their direction.

Harmony wanted to groan but didn’t. Dylan Cooper was the last person she needed to see. She’d heard he was living in Texas. Of course he would be home now. Of course he would still be the best-looking Cooper of the bunch, with his lean cowboy frame and country-boy grin. He was tanned from summer sunshine. And his dark hair curled beneath his white cowboy hat.

With a dozen kids in Angie and Tim Cooper’s family, calling him the best-looking was saying something. In this new life she didn’t have time for good-looking, smooth-talking men. She had two relationships she was focusing on. With herself, and with God.

“Bill.” Dylan Cooper adjusted his cowboy hat and shifted to look at her. Harmony lifted her chin a notch and stared right back at him. The hazel eyes she remembered from so long ago were less teasing, less sharp. He had gone from boy to man in the years since she’d seen him last.

The teenage Dylan had been a flirt. He’d been too cute for words and he’d known it. She had steered clear. But then one year she’d taken a walk down by the creek with him. He’d kissed her, told her he didn’t like spoiled little girls and then walked away, leaving her mad enough to spit.

“Harmony Cross, I didn’t expect to see you here.” His gaze lowered to the cane in her right hand and then eased back to her face. “How are you?”

“Good.” She stopped herself from being sarcastic. She’d had a wreck that nearly killed her and did kill her best friend. She’d been in rehab. She’d overcome addiction. She was great. “How are you?”

“Been better.” He shifted back to Bill Tanner. “You doing all right, Bill?”

“Been better.” Bill smiled just a little as he repeated Dylan’s words, but Harmony saw the moisture in his eyes.

“I just came to pay my respects. I’m real sorry, Bill. If there’s anything you and Doris need, you let me know.”

“I appreciate that, Dylan. We’re making it, though.”

“What’s Miss Cross doing here?” Dylan didn’t look at her. He adjusted his white cowboy hat and kept his gaze fixed on Mr. Tanner.

“She’s trying to buy Terry’s horse.” Mr. Tanner sighed and shook his head. “All of this fuss over a horse.”

“Mr. Tanner, at least let me buy you some hay.” Harmony made the quick offer, thinking now would be the time to escape.

“Why are you keeping that horse, Bill?” Dylan’s tone was easy, friendly. Harmony shot him a look, doubting he was really on her side in this matter. More likely he was on the horse’s side.

Mr. Tanner looked away from them, back to the horse in the corral. The animal, as if he knew they were discussing his future, moved to the fence to watch. It was mid-September and a breeze blew, feathering the horse’s dark tail in the light wind. For a minute the animal was almost pretty.

“I keep thinking he’ll come home.” Mr. Tanner finally answered, the words hollow and sad.

Dylan’s hand rested on the farmer’s shoulder. “Terry wouldn’t want his horse kept that way.”

“I know.”

Harmony waited, holding her breath while Bill Tanner looked from her to the horse. Her gaze strayed to Dylan Cooper and he smiled. The lingering sadness in his eyes took her by surprise.

But she was more surprised when she noticed the door of his truck opening. As Dylan talked to Bill Tanner, two children escaped from his truck. A little girl, maybe preschool age, barefoot and wearing shorts and a tank top. And a boy, just a toddler. Both had blond hair. The boy’s hair was buzzed short. The girl’s hair was in raggedy braids with wisps of hair coming loose. The two held hands as they sneaked across the yard.

* * *

If Dylan had known Harmony Cross would be at the Tanners’, he would have ignored the voice in his head telling him to stop and pay his respects to Bill and Doris Tanner over the loss of the grandson they’d raised. Harmony Cross, with her dark blue eyes and curly blond hair framing her pretty face, was the last thing he needed in his life right now. He barely had time for himself these days, let alone thoughts that took him down back roads of the past.

What he needed had everything to do with the two kids in his truck.

As Harmony stood there, leaning heavily on a cane, waiting for Bill Tanner to come to his senses, Dylan gave her a long look. He remembered the last time he’d seen her. She’d been pretty full of herself back then. That girl seemed to be long gone. She’d been through a lot recently.

Hadn’t they all?

He guessed back in the day they’d all thought they’d live charmed lives free from trouble.

At least his personal drama hadn’t made the national news. Just the Dawson gossip channels. He guessed that might be nearly as bad. He’d been home a few weeks, and everywhere he went people asked questions. Or mentioned a sweet girl that he should meet. Because marriage would solve his problems?

Harmony was no longer watching him. Her gaze had shot past him and he saw a flicker of a smile turn her lips. She bit down on her bottom lip and her gaze flicked back to him like she hadn’t seen a thing. And that made him mighty curious. He turned just as Cash and Callie hurried across the yard toward a kitten that had crawled out from under the house.

The door of the house banged shut just as Callie pounced on the kitten that fortunately had the good sense to run back under the porch. Doris Tanner walked onto the porch, a thin woman in dark blue housedress. He remembered when she used to bake the best pies in the state. She shook her head as she walked down the steps, holding the rail for support.

Dylan shot her a smile as he hurried and scooped the adventurers up, one under each arm. He’d gotten pretty good at keeping them corralled. Sometimes he forgot that they were escape artists. Doris smiled his way and stepped next to her husband.

Dylan settled a kid on each hip and thought about making his own escape. But he didn’t want to leave Doris refereeing the two people that looked like they might butt heads any moment.

“Why all of this fuss over a skinny old horse?” Doris reached for Bill’s arm. “The horse needs to go, Billy. We can’t keep him in that corral forever.”

“Terry said to keep his horse. His last words to me were telling me I shouldn’t sell his horse while he was gone. I talked to him the day before...” Bill looked at the horse, shaking his head. Dylan wondered if anyone else felt the pain in the air, thick, heavy, weighing down on this family and this farm.

They still had a few days until autumn’s official start, but the air was a little cooler today and the breeze came from the north. There was still green grass and leaves on the trees, thanks to some good rain. At the Tanner farm, everything seemed gray. Dylan guessed he recognized it because he’d been feeling the same way for the past few months, since Katrina passed away. The two of them hadn’t ever been more than friends, but she’d needed someone at her side during the last year. Her last year. And she’d been only twenty-six.

“Mr. Tanner, I’m so sorry.” Harmony spoke and Dylan drifted back to the present. Harmony’s hand rested on Bill’s arm and her gaze connected with Doris’s. The two women smiled at each other.

“Take the horse.” Mr. Tanner turned and walked away.

“I don’t think...” Harmony turned to look at Dylan. He shrugged. She was on her own. Cash and Callie were struggling to get down and he knew they wanted that kitten.

He was settling them back on the ground when the kitten came out from under the porch again and headed across the yard. Harmony leaned down and picked it up. She gave the flea-bitten tabby a sad look and handed it to Callie.

“Take the horse, honey.” Doris Tanner patted Harmony’s arm. “He’s just a reminder. I want him gone. I want the corral gone. And Dylan, let those kids have that kitten.”

Harmony nodded and then flicked at tears streaming down her cheeks. “I’ll write you a check.”

Dylan watched as Harmony made painful steps back to her car. She sat in the driver’s seat and more tears trickled down her cheeks. Was it was from physical pain or from sharing heartache with the Tanners? He guessed when she showed up today, she expected to find a relieved farmer ready to take a check for a skinny horse, and never would have guessed at the pain she’d find.

She pushed herself out of the car and walked back to Doris Tanner. Bill had gone back in the house. Harmony handed over the check and Doris looked at it and shook her head.

“That old horse isn’t worth that much money.” Doris tried to hand the check back.

“He’s a national champion.” Harmony smiled. They all knew it wasn’t the truth. Bill had been doing his best to run her off.

“He’s one step away from glue.” Doris shook her head and looked at the check again.

Harmony hugged the older woman. “He’s a champion to me.”

For whatever reason, the rangy Appaloosa meant something to Harmony Cross, and Dylan didn’t want to know why. He sure didn’t want to see her as someone who cared about other people. That made her too big a complication. And with Callie and Cash heading for the truck with a kitten, he was pretty sure he had all the complications he could handle. What he needed was space to breathe, to figure out how to be a single dad.

“Do you have someone who can haul him for you?” Doris asked, and for whatever reason she glanced his way.

Harmony ignored him. “I’ll find someone.”

“I need to hit the road. Doris, if you all need anything, you give me a call.”

“Thank you, Dylan. But I think you’ve probably got your hands full as it is. Bill and I are making it through this. We’ve made it through plenty in our lives.”

“I’m just down the road.” Dylan glanced over his shoulder to make sure the kids were back in the truck. “And thanks for the kitten.”

At that, Doris smiled. “Oh, Dylan, kids need animals. It keeps them smiling, and don’t we all need to smile?”

“Yeah, I guess we do.” He really didn’t like cats. But it was pointless to mention that.

Doris touched his arm. “I’m going on in to see about Bill. Will you help her find someone to haul that horse out of here? And if you want that round pen, take it.”

“Sure thing, Doris.”

Harmony stood at the corral trying to coax that skinny horse to her with a few blades of grass she’d plucked from the yard. The horse trotted to the far side of the round pen, wanting nothing to do with her or that fistful of grass. He waited until Doris entered the house, then he walked up to the round pen. It didn’t make sense to have the horse in that pen. Bill had land. He had cattle. The whole situation smelled of grief and pain.

“I’ll haul him over to your place.” The offer slipped out, because it was the right thing to do. Harmony turned, smiling as she brushed hair back from her face.

“I can find someone.”

Argumentative females. He sighed. “Harmony, I’ll haul the horse.”

Harmony held her hand out and the horse brushed against her palm and then backed away. He didn’t think the animal had been worked since Terry left for the military a couple of years ago.

“He’s a lot of horse,” he cautioned. “He isn’t even halter-broke.”

“I’m not worried about it.”

“I’d hate to see you mess around and get hurt.”

She shot him a look, and he realized she was holding on to the fence, holding herself up. Stubborn female. He didn’t have time for stubborn.

“Why don’t you get in your car and head back to your place? I’ll get a trailer and bring him over to you this afternoon. You’ll have to pen him up for a few days because in this condition he’s likely to founder if he gets too much green grass.”

“I’ll put him in the small corral by the barn. It has plenty of grass for now.” She smiled at him. Man, that smile, it was something else. It could knock a guy to his knees. “And I’ll take that offer to haul him for me. If it isn’t too much trouble. The kids—”

He cut her off. “How much did you pay for him?”

“That’s a business deal, Mr. Cooper. I don’t sign checks and tell.” She turned away from the horse and made slow, painful steps back to her car.

He opened the car door for her. “That was real nice of you.”

She slid into the seat and looked up at him. “Why not do something for someone if you have the chance? That’s what you’ve been doing, isn’t it?”

He rested his arm on the top of her Audi and looked in at her. He knew she was referring to Cash and Callie, Katrina’s kids. “Yeah, I guess we’re all grown-up now.”

“Right, of course we are.” She started her car and reached for the door, forcing him to back up. “I’ll see you this afternoon.”

He watched as she closed the door, and took off down the drive. Bill Tanner was standing on his front porch. The old guy walked down the steps, a little bow-legged from years in the saddle. He’d been a saddle bronc rider back in the day, one of the best.

He’d taught Dylan a thing or two about the sport. Dylan and Terry had both ridden saddle bronc, before Terry had signed up for the army. Dylan glanced at the rangy horse and smiled, because Terry had bought the animal from a stock provider who had intended to use him in rodeos and then decided the horse didn’t have enough buck.

But he still had plenty of buck, and if Harmony Cross gentled the animal down, she deserved a medal.

“Well, I guess Terry’s horse is going to have a good home.” Bill walked up to the round pen. “I should have sold him a long time ago. I’m just a stubborn old man who doesn’t like to deal with reality.”

“It isn’t easy, this reality stuff,” Dylan admitted.

“Take the girl her check back.” Bill held out the check with the flowery signature and four digits.

“Nah, Bill, I think she’d be real upset if you sent that back. Keep it and take Doris to the beach.”

Bill grinned. Probably one of his first real smiles in a long time. “It don’t seem right, to have this much money in my hand. But the beach would sure be nice.”

“Go. Have a good time.” Dylan adjusted his hat to block the sun. “She ain’t gonna miss the money, Bill.”

“No, I reckon she won’t. She was sure determined to get that animal. I guess she’ll be good to him. I just didn’t want to sell him and have someone put him back in the arena. Terry thought there was more to the horse than that. Something about his eyes.”

“Maybe she sees it, too.”

“Maybe.” Bill wore a baseball cap with a big fish emblem on the front. “Guess I’ll go fishing.”

“Don’t forget to do something with Doris.”

“She won’t let me forget.” Bill started to go back inside but stopped, and looked from the truck to Dylan. “You’ll get through this, Dylan.”

“Yeah, I guess I will.”

When he got in his truck, he looked at the two kids in the backseat. Cash was in his car seat. Callie was sitting in her big-kid booster seat. She reminded him often that she was four and Cash was just a baby.

She was holding tight to her kitten and the thing looked like it might be about ready to let loose with its claws.

“That kitten isn’t happy, Callie.” He grabbed a jacket and handed it back to her. “Wrap him up before you get scratched.”

“He’s happy,” she insisted as she wrapped the jacket around the hissing feline.

“Of course she is. You know I don’t like cats, right?” He glanced in the rearview mirror as he pulled onto the road. And he also didn’t like getting involved in Harmony Cross’s life. He had enough on his plate.

“You’ll like this one, Dylan,” Callie informed him with a big smile.

“What do you think, Cash? I need a guy on my side.”

Cash, not quite two, responded with one of his drooling, toothy grins and said, “Cat.”

“Yeah, cat.” Dylan shook his head and headed for town. One of these days he’d have to figure out how his ability to say no had gotten broken to the point of no repair.

If he’d figured it out sooner, he might not have offered to haul that horse for Harmony Cross.

The one thing, actually two, that he didn’t regret were sitting in the backseat of his truck. Cash and Callie, the children of his late friend. She’d lost a battle with cancer, and he’d done the only thing he had known he could do for her. He’d agreed to raise her kids because there hadn’t been anyone else.

One year ago he’d decided to help out a friend. Now he was a single dad.

Chapter Two

Harmony stood in the old barn that had been a part of the Cross Ranch for as long as she could remember. Her parents had bought the place twenty years ago, when her dad had first made a name for himself in Nashville. They’d wanted a place to go where life was still normal. Where the Cross kids could be kids and the family could do what other families did. Attending church on Sunday, rodeos and the local diner.

And because Harmony needed to find that part of herself that still believed in something, in who she was, or wanted to be, she had returned to Dawson and to the old farmhouse with all of its good memories.

She loved this place because it hadn’t changed. No matter what else happened in life, this house remained the same. Her parents had updated it, but they’d kept it as original as possible. The barn was solid with red-painted wood siding, a hayloft, a few stalls and a chicken pen off the back. The chicken pen was empty, and there hadn’t been animals in the barn for years. There were cows in the field only because the Coopers leased the land.

Even though the barn had stood empty, it still smelled of cedar, straw and farm animals. Today there would be a horse. She smiled as she opened one of the few stalls. It had a door that led to the corral and it was roomy.

She’d found one bale of straw, probably left over from the fall decorating her mother had done the previous year. She broke up the bale and scattered a few flakes in the stall for bedding.

After she’d left the Tanner’s she’d stopped at the feed store in Dawson and ordered some grain and hay to be delivered. It was already stacked in the feed room. She was all set. But her heart was a little jittery as she thought about what she was taking on and why. She knew the dangers of getting involved with Dylan Cooper. Her heart couldn’t handle his charm, and she knew he was best left alone. Her dad used to say the same thing about poisonous plants and poisonous snakes. Leave well enough alone and you won’t get hurt, he’d warn.

In the peaceful country stillness she heard a trailer rattling up the driveway. She stepped out of the stall, closing the door behind her. When she walked out of the barn, Dylan nodded a greeting as he pulled past her.

He backed the trailer up to the gate of the corral. The horse stomped and whinnied his displeasure at being moved. Harmony stepped a little closer as the truck stopped moving. The horse pushed his nose out of an opening of the trailer and whinnied again.

“It’s okay, boy, we’ll get you fattened up and you’ll be happy to be here.” She reached to pet his nose and he pulled back. She got it; look but don’t touch.

“You think he’s going to be all happy that you rescued him?” Dylan walked around the trailer and opened the gate. “Because all men fall at your feet, Harmony Cross?”

“Maybe I was wrong, maybe you haven’t changed.”

He smiled a little and she saw the lurking sadness again.

“Oh, I think we’ve both changed.” He swung the back of the trailer open. “And I’m sorry for baiting you that way. Old habits and all.”

“You’re right. Maybe we should call a truce?”

A truce? They’d had an adversarial relationship for years. He’d once loosened the cinch on her saddle just to watch it slide as she tried to get on her horse. She’d put mud in his boots. All in good fun. But it had gone a long way in cementing their relationship.

A truce would mean, what? Being friends? The idea felt a little bit dangerous.

The horse wasn’t coming out of the trailer. Dylan backed up and whistled. The poor animal stood his ground, trembling. Harmony stepped a little closer and spoke softly. The horse listened, his ears twitching and his head moving just the slightest bit to look at her.

“I’m not sure exactly why we need a truce,” Dylan said as he stepped up into the trailer and reached for the gelding’s tail. “Come on, Beau, head on out of there.”

“His name is Beau?”

Dylan nodded, stepping back and pulling a little on the scraggly black tail. The gelding backed out of the trailer, his hooves clanking on the floor. When he hit firm ground he turned and trotted across the corral. He might have kept going but he noticed the green grass and immediately lowered his head and started to graze. He would pull at a mouthful of grass, and then look around at his new surroundings, ears twitching.

“He’ll settle in.” Dylan closed the back of the trailer and then the gate. “You understand you can’t ride him.”

“You understand that I’m very aware of what I can and can’t do.”

“Is that your idea of a truce?” He shook his head and exhaled loudly with obvious impatience. “I don’t mean to tell you what you physically can and can’t do. I’m telling you, that horse can’t be ridden.”

“Why?”

“Why are you so defensive?” he countered.

She watched the horse for a minute. From inside the truck she heard the lilting voice of the little girl, her Texas accent a welcome distraction.

“Well?” He pushed for an answer.

“Because I’m here to get away from people who feel I need to be told at every turn what I can and can’t do. Since I got home from the Tanners’, I’ve had three phone calls. One from your mother, one from my mother and one from my older brother. I’ve been warned three times that I have to be careful with the horse.”

“So what you’re saying is, you’ve had all of the advice you can handle for a lifetime?” He smiled. “I guess we have more in common than you’d like to admit.”

She didn’t want common ground. “So, about this horse...”

“He was a saddle bronc horse that Terry bought from a stock contractor. Terry had ideas that this horse was special.”

They both looked at the dark horse with the white splotch on his rump and little to recommend him other than a pretty-shaped head and nice eyes, even if they were a little wild at the moment.

“Well, whatever the reason he bought Beau, I’m glad he did. Beau might not be all that special, but I think we need each other.”

“It happens that way sometimes.” He glanced at his watch and then there was a cry from his truck. “I have to go.”

“What are their names?” She should have let him leave but she followed him to the truck. There was something about his situation that gave them a bond.

“Callie, she’s four. Cash is almost two.” He looked in the window at the two kids in the backseat.

Harmony stepped close to his side to get a better view. Cash smiled past the thumb in his mouth. Callie gave her a seriously angry look. The little girl still held that kitten from Bill and Doris Tanner’s. Both kids watched them with big blue eyes. They were sweet, perfectly sweet.

And he was raising them. Alone.

“I’m sure your family is a lot of help.” She meant it as a good thing. He gave her a serious look.

“I 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 is.” She looked back at the horse that hadn’t stopped grazing since they unloaded him.

“How did you manage that?”

She shrugged, telling him the short version of the story. The version that didn’t include Dylan. “I think Bill realized it was time to let the horse go.”

Rachel moved next to her husband. “And the memories.”

“Yes, the memories.” Harmony smiled.

“We wanted to check on you and make sure everything is okay out here. If you need anything at all, let us know.” Wyatt made the same offer he’d made days ago when she first arrived in Dawson.

“I know where to find you,” Harmony repeated her line from that conversation. “And church starts at eleven.”

Rachel smiled at that. “I think she’s got it, Wyatt.”

“I know she does.” Wyatt shrugged and looked a little sheepish. “But you’re here alone and your dad...”

A guilty flush tinted his cheeks.

“My dad wants to make sure I’m okay. I know.”

Wyatt didn’t smile this time. “We’re all family here, Harmony. I think we all want to know that you’re okay.”

“I appreciate that, Wyatt, I really do. And I promise I’ll call if I need anything.”

He slipped an arm around his wife. Harmony felt the tiniest twinge of envy at the easy gesture. She wondered how it would feel to be part of a couple, part of a team. But she wouldn’t know because she wouldn’t allow herself a relationship, not a real one, not for a very long time. Not until she was positive she could do this life thing without letting anyone else down.

Rachel stepped away from Wyatt and gave her a quick hug. “I’m just about a mile down the road if you ever want coffee.”

“That’s an invitation I won’t turn down. Thank you.” She heard the quick laughter from across the field, Dylan and the children again. She pretended not to notice and smiled at the couple standing in front of her. “And Dylan came by earlier. He offered to help out if I need anything. It just made sense, because we live so close.”

Wyatt gave her a steady, questioning look and she wanted to look away. Of course Wyatt, long a resident of Dawson, remembered her adversarial relationship with Dylan Cooper. She smiled and hoped he wouldn’t ask questions.

“That’s good of Dylan. He’s had a lot on his shoulders and I’m sure he could use the help, too.”

“He seems to be handling parenthood.” The easy words slipped out, because it was the truth. “But I’m here if he needs anything.”

Wyatt’s face wavered between curious and concerned, but he shrugged and then offered an easy smile. “There’s another reason I stopped by today.”

“Okay.”

“I want to start a recovery program.”

Harmony bit down on her lip and nodded, unsure what to say. She was involved in a program that offered anonymity. She craved it because for a long time it seemed as if everyone knew that Harmony Cross was addicted to prescription drugs. Did they know how easy it was to get those drugs? A toothache, headache, stomach pain, the list was endless. No one really asked questions. No one delved deeper. And when the prescriptions ran out, an addict knew how to find the person with pills to sell.

“Harmony, I know this is tough.” Wyatt had shifted his arm from his wife’s waist and now held her hand but his direct gaze focused on Harmony’s face. “I know that you came here to shed the focus people were putting on your life, the attention and probably some suffocation by people who mean well.”

She smiled at that. “You have talked to my parents.”

“I understand how much you want to hide and how much you want people to stop asking if they can help or if you’re okay.”

“Bingo.” She hoped that didn’t sound too harsh. She knew Wyatt’s first wife had committed suicide, leaving him to raise two little girls alone and deal with the loss of a woman he loved.

“It isn’t easy to get back to life.” Wyatt looked down at Rachel. “Sometimes we need a person who leads us back into the light.”

“I’m not looking for a person.” The answer came easily. “I’m not ready for relationships. I’m not ready to step in front of a group of well-meaning church people and tell them I’m an addict.”

“I think you’ll find this group of people pretty supportive and ready to help each other through some tough times.”

“I know,” she said. “But I need time. I’ve had all of the sermons thrown at me. God allowed this to happen to get me back in church. Or if I hadn’t walked away from God, this wouldn’t have happened.” The one that hurt the most was that God had a reason for taking her best friend. Not her. “I believe, Wyatt, I’ve just had a pretty big crisis in faith. I was hoping if I came back here...”

Wyatt filled in the rest. “That God would be waiting?”

“Something like that. I thought I’d find the old Harmony, the person I used to be.”

“I think you will. I remember her as a girl who never backed down.”

She hoped she’d be that person again. “The one question I really need answered is, why Amy? Why not me?”

She hadn’t planned to say the words out loud. She shook her head, blinking away the quick sting of tears. Wyatt started toward her but she backed away because one touch and she’d lose it, the way she’d been close to losing it for days. Amy, her best friend, had been one of the kindest, most decent people Harmony had known.

“No one on this earth has that answer, Harmony, and I’m not going to try to guess the reason. But I do know that God has a plan for your life, and that plan isn’t for you to give up.”

“Thank you.” She wiped at her eyes and managed a weak smile. “I’m not sure if I can say I’m glad you stopped by.”

“I don’t blame you. And I’ll let you know when we start this group. In case you change your mind.”

And then they left, waving goodbye as they climbed in the truck.

She waved back and headed for the house. She made it to the front porch and sat down on one of the old rocking chairs that had been recently painted a pretty poppy color. Her mother loved bright colors.

The chairs matched the brightly colored geraniums and gerbera daisies blooming in the flower beds. Everything looked cheerful. It looked the way it had years ago when she’d spent happy summers here.

She rocked, enjoying the soft, late summer breeze that blew across the porch, cooling the air. There were no more sounds of laughter from across the field.

Only silence.

For a moment it felt like peace. And in the midst of that peace she remembered that she had just aligned herself with Dylan Cooper. She guessed eventually she’d have to tell him that she was accepting his offer.

* * *

Dylan pulled in to the parking lot of the Mad Cow Café and immediately spotted the Audi driven by Harmony Cross. The only empty space was next to the silver car. He groaned to himself, because if he groaned out loud, he’d have to explain why to Callie. These days she asked a lot of questions. Her favorite words were why and what and how.

When he’d left Harmony an hour earlier, he hadn’t expected to see her back in town so soon.

“Dylan, why are you frowning?”

He glanced in the rearview mirror and smiled at the little girl that he’d known since she was a baby. She smiled back. He couldn’t hide anything from her. She was always watching and saw a lot more than most kids.

“No reason. Just wondering what I’m going to have for supper. What do you want?”

“Chicken strips. And Cash wants tater tots and green beans.”

“Green beans?” He laughed. “Why do you get chicken strips and he has to eat the green beans?”

“Because he’s little.” She said it with the appropriate roll of her eyes that basically told him even a moron would know that a little kid needed green beans.

“I think you should both eat green beans.” He climbed out of the truck and pushed the seat forward to reach in the back. He really needed to get a car or a new truck, one with an extended cab and four doors. The two doors had been fine when it had been just him and a dog traveling around the country.

Car seats and kids changed everything.

He unbuckled Cash from his seat and Callie unbuckled herself. She came in real handy, that kid did. She was his little helper. He hiked Cash onto his hip and reached to help Callie down from the truck. Together the three of them headed toward the diner. And then he heard the door of the Audi open. He hadn’t realized she’d still been sitting in that car.

He watched her climb out of that car like it took every last ounce of strength she had to move. A wounded Harmony Cross was the last thing he needed right now. He’d been at Katrina’s side for the past year, and everything inside him was pretty much wrung out like an old kitchen rag. He had enough energy for himself and the two kids she’d left him to raise. Her kids, not his. But they were his now and he wouldn’t let them down.

Katrina’s husband had died in a truck accident coming home from a long haul to California. He’d been heading to Katrina’s side as she’d gone into labor with Cash.

As much as he wanted to ignore Harmony and walk into the Mad Cow, he waited, watching Harmony’s painful steps across the parking lot. Her long, curling blond hair was pulled back in a ponytail and she had changed from jeans and a T-shirt to a sundress. The stubborn female had left her cane in the car. He saw the grimace of pain around her mouth. He saw the flinch with each step.

“Are you trying to get your picture put in the dictionary next to stubborn?” he asked as he waited.

She looked up as if she hadn’t noticed them there. Her gaze landed on Callie, not him, and she smiled. Man, she was thin. He hadn’t noticed earlier. He’d had more on his mind than Harmony and her too-skinny horse. He guessed they both needed fattening up. But saying that would definitely break the truce between them.

“I’m not stubborn.” She shifted her eyes from Callie to him. She was still pretty. Tired-looking, but pretty. It had been a long time since he’d paid attention to a woman, but he was positive those weren’t the words she wanted to hear.

“So what are you if you’re not stubborn?”

“Strong.” She lifted her chin as she said it, the glint in her smoky-blue eyes unmistakable.

“Right.” He stuck his right elbow out for her to take hold of. “Allow me, miss.”

“How very, um, chivalrous of you, Mr. Cooper.” But she took his elbow, her hand holding tight. With her other hand she reached for Callie.

He guessed that’s how you made a truce.

It was also how rumors got started, he realized as they walked through the front doors of the Mad Cow, the cowbell over the door clanging loud to announce their arrival. There were about a dozen customers and they all turned to watch Dylan, the kids and Harmony Cross.

Harmony dropped his arm and moved away from him. “Thanks for the lift, neighbor.”

“Anytime.” He watched as she retreated taking a seat in a booth. He guessed she wanted to avoid rumors, too.

He sat at a table with Callie and Cash. But his eyes kept straying to Harmony sitting alone. She probably needed a friend. He looked at the two dirty faces sitting across from him. He had plenty of friends. And family. Cash reached for the sugar and Dylan moved it out of his way. Callie tried to slap the little guy’s hand.

“Hey, Cal, let’s not do that, kiddo.” He smiled at her, and she wrinkled her little nose and gave him a big-eyed innocent look that said he didn’t know what he was doing.

He was tired.

Cash reached for the napkins. He moved those out of the toddler’s reach, too. The waitress, Breezy, headed their way with menus and the coffeepot. She smiled and easily moved everything within reach to another table. She put crayons and a coloring placemat in front of the kids and filled his cup.

“You look worn-out, Dylan.”

He smiled up at her. Pretty as she was, he felt nothing but sisterly affection. After all, she was his adopted sister Mia’s biological sister. And didn’t that make her family?

“I’m feeling about fifty years older than I am,” he admitted.

She smoothed a hand over Cash’s buzzed blond hair and grinned. “Good thing you’re still cute. Maybe you can find a wife to help you out with these two.”

“I think I’ll pass for now.”

“Oh, I wasn’t proposing.” Breezy winked as she said that. “But I could help you find someone.”

Even Breezy was in on it now. This was exactly why he’d made that proposition to Harmony.

Vera, owner of the Mad Cow Café, walked out of the kitchen. She spotted him and headed his way. “Dylan, those are two cute babies you’ve got there.”

“I’m not a baby,” Callie informed Vera, her little mouth turning in a serious frown. “I’m four.”

Vera took the seat next to Callie. “Well, that makes you almost grown, doesn’t it? And what are you going to eat today, Sugar Plum?”

“I’m having chicken strips and fries. Cash needs green beans.”

Dylan pulled off his hat and swiped a hand through hair that needed to be cut. His gaze shifted from the little girl sitting across from him to the woman on the other side of the restaurant.

He should invite her to sit with them. Even if she didn’t want to take him up on his offer.

“What are you looking at, Dylan Cooper?” Vera leaned in a little. Nothing got past Vera.

“I was thinking I should invite Harmony Cross to sit with us. We have an extra chair—” the one Vera was occupying “—and she looks pretty lonely.”

Vera glanced back at Harmony, then shot him a knowing look. “Is that the way the wind is blowing?”

“There ain’t no wind in Oklahoma that strong, Vera. I’m just being neighborly. Could you watch these two for a minute?”

Vera laughed but nodded her agreement, and Dylan scooted his chair back and headed Harmony’s direction. She looked up from the menu and glared at him as he sat down across from her.

“Eating alone isn’t good for a person’s digestion,” he said, using an old line that had gotten him more than one date over the years. Harmony Cross just laughed.

“It’s a truce, Dylan, not a courtship.”

“I know that, I was just being...”

“Charming?”

For the first time in a long while, the smile on his face came easily. “Yeah, that’s me, Mr. Charming.”

“I don’t remember that being your nickname.”

“No, probably not. But you might as well join me and the kids for supper.”

“Because you think you’re full of good ideas. Like I didn’t hear that waitress tell you she’d help you find a wife.”

“Keep your voice down,” he whispered. “And it is a good idea.”

“It might be.”

He stood up, offering her his hand and she took it. Her hand was small and soft in his. He hadn’t expected to really feel anything. He definitely hadn’t expected the strange surge of protectiveness or the odd urge to hold her close.

He guessed if she knew what he was thinking, she would have sat back down and refused to ever speak to him again. Instead he worked on remaining charming and nothing more. He didn’t need attachments and he guessed she didn’t, either.

But taking her to his table would give everyone in town the notion that he and Harmony Cross were becoming attached.

Attached.

He could tell them all, if they asked, why a man would be attached to Harmony. Or want to be attached. It would have to do with the soft hand in his, the warmth of her smile and the sweet, floral scent that wrapped him up and drew him even closer.

A green bean smacked him in the face, and that dose of reality helped him get back to the man he knew he was. He pulled out a chair for Harmony and removed himself enough to take a deep breath.

Chapter Three

After a meal spent sitting next to Dylan as he cajoled the two children into eating vegetables, and even forced her to finish her fries, Harmony walked out the door of the Mad Cow. She knew that their departure would set off a firestorm of talk. She convinced herself she didn’t care. It had been a good hour of being entertained and not thinking. It was exactly what she’d needed, in ways Dylan Cooper wouldn’t have known.

The sun had set and the evening air was cooler with a breeze kicking up from the north. It didn’t matter what people were saying. For tonight, Harmony had enjoyed herself.

Dylan held on to the two children, Callie and Cash. She watched him wrangle them, holding their hands and keeping calm as he led them across the parking lot.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” he asked as he opened the truck door and hefted Cash with one arm.

“Compared to what, a tetanus shot?” she teased.

She unlocked her door and waited as he put the children in their car seats. As much as she wanted to sit down, she didn’t. Instead she backed against her car and watched him lean inside the truck. His husky voice carried as he talked to the kids about bedtime and baths. He sounded for all the world like a man who had been a dad for a long time. As much as he smiled and joked, though, she’d noticed the weariness evident in his face, in eyes that looked as if they’d seen too much of life.

He finished with the kids, then mirrored her, backing against his truck as if they had all night.

He pushed his hat back and she could see his too-handsome face. Traitorous memories returned, of the one kiss they’d shared. Even though it had ended with him teasing her, it had still been a kiss a girl couldn’t forget.

“So, what do you think?”

She opened her car door and sat down. If he was going to take forever, she needed a seat. “About?”

Of course she knew he meant his idea. And she had yet to tell him she’d already put his plan into action, letting Wyatt and Rachel Johnson think that Dylan’s help was the only help she’d need.

He moved away from the truck and squatted next to her as she sat in her car, hitching up his jeans as he bent long legs. “Tonight worked out well. You didn’t have to eat alone, dodging people asking how you’re doing. I escaped more discussions on prospective wives. I saw Wyatt and Rachel Johnson’s truck heading up to your place a while ago. I guess that isn’t their first visit?”

“No, it isn’t.”

“I heard my mom say she’s coming by tomorrow to check on you.”

“I love your mom.”

“But you don’t need a daily check-in.”

She smiled at that. “No, I don’t.”

He stood and leaned on the side of her car, bending down to look in at her. The distraction of his Old West looks, mountain-man cologne and cinnamon gum kept her from hearing what he said. She had to focus.

“You did agree to sit with me tonight.”

She smiled up at him. “I might have already told Wyatt Johnson that we’re helping each other out.”

“Perfect. So that’s it, we’re an item now.”

His easy statement shocked her.

“No!” The word rushed out. “I’m not interested in being half of a couple.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to buy you a ring. But I will be here if you need me. I’ll help you out with that horse. I’ll mow your lawn. Whatever it is people are lining up to do for you, I’m your huckleberry. And if you want to fix me a roast for dinner, that’s even better.”

“You think I cook now?”

“Probably not.”

That hurt. “Well, I do.”

He winked. “Don’t get all upset, Princess, I’m teasing. I have to go, but you think about what I’ve said. I’ll be over tomorrow.”

He leaned into the car and kissed her cheek, surprising her. “Dylan, don’t.”

“Just a good-night kiss from a friend. Call if you need anything.”

“I’ll add your number to the dozens I already have,” she called out to his retreating back.

“That’s exactly what I’m trying to save you from,” he tossed back as he climbed in his truck.

Harmony started her car and headed for home, leaving Dylan in her dust. As she drove she thought about what he’d said, about saving her.

For several years everyone had been trying to save her. They’d tried to save her before the accident—and after. They had tried to save her from the addiction. They’d tried to save her from herself. In Dawson, she’d been hoping to escape all of the people trying to save her.

What Dylan offered was a way to escape people and their good intentions. He offered a way for her to reclaim her life. What he got in return was a way to fend off the local matchmakers. It seemed like the perfect plan, yet it left her unsettled. Dylan had always unsettled her. It was his easy charm and the way he had of being completely comfortable with his life.

The flash of blue lights coming up behind her and then the wail of a siren stopped her from thinking too much about Dylan’s crazy idea. She pulled over and let the ambulance pass, then she got back onto the road.

She would have gone on home but the ambulance turned up the gravel drive that led to Bill and Doris Tanner’s place. Harmony followed close behind. Her heart gave a painful thud as she watched the EMTs jump from the vehicle, meet Bill in the yard and then follow him into the house.

Local volunteers were already on scene. A fire truck was parked close to the barn. Harmony stepped out of her car and watched as several men rushed out of the house for equipment. Another man led Bill outside. He saw her and shook his head.

Harmony approached, unsure but knowing someone had to be there for Bill Tanner, a man who had already lost too much.

“Mr. Tanner.” She touched his arm and his face crumpled, giving way to a few tears that streaked down his weathered face.

“Doris had a stroke. I was fixing her a hot dog and she just wouldn’t move from the chair.”

The volunteer moved Bill to the side as the paramedics pushed the stretcher through the front door and to the waiting ambulance. One of the men hurried to Bill’s side.

“Bill, she’s responding. We’ll get her to Grove and then I think they might fly her to Tulsa.”

“Bill, I’ll drive you,” Harmony said, taking hold of the older man’s arm. “Should we go on to Tulsa or wait?”

“I’d wait. If they can keep her in Grove, I think they will.” The volunteer smiled at her. “That’s real nice of you, Miss Cross.”

She nodded and old Bill Tanner gave her an odd look. “You don’t mind driving me? I think my old truck will make it, but I’m a mite shaky.”

“I don’t mind. We’re neighbors and that’s what neighbors do.”

They headed for her car and a truck pulled up, headlights catching them in twin beams of light. A tall figure stepped out, adjusted his cowboy hat and headed their way.

“Dylan.” Harmony released a pent-up breath she didn’t realize she was holding.

“What happened?” He looked from her to Bill.

“Doris had a stroke. Miss Cross was nice enough to offer me a ride.” Bill’s voice was shaky.

“Let me take you.” Dylan nodded toward his truck.

“I can do this.” Harmony insisted, but she already knew that Bill would rather go with Dylan, someone he knew and felt comfortable with.

“Miss Cross, it was nice enough of you to offer, but Dylan won’t mind being up all night, sitting in a waiting room with an old man like myself.”

Harmony looked from Bill Tanner to Dylan. “Do you want to drop the kids off at my house?”

“Yeah, I’ll meet you at your place.” Harmony nodded and watched him walk back to his truck with Bill. She stood for a moment in the yard that had been ablaze with lights from emergency vehicles. In the distance she heard the wail of the siren as the ambulance headed for Grove. The volunteers were pulling away from the house.

She got in her car and pulled down the driveway, turning toward her house. She could see Dylan’s truck, already heading that way with Cash and Callie. This hadn’t been in her plans when she came to Dawson, getting so involved. There were good reasons for keeping to herself. But maybe the reasons to get involved were just as good.

When she got to her place, Dylan was helping Callie and Cash out of the truck. Harmony reached for Callie’s hand and Dylan followed her inside with Cash.

“You’ll be okay?” Dylan asked as he settled Cash on the couch and handed over a diaper bag.

“We’ll be okay.” She glanced down at Callie, who didn’t offer her a smile. A smile would have given her a healthy dose of confidence that she really could have used.

* * *

Dylan pulled up to the Cross Ranch the next morning. His eyes felt like sandpaper was rubbing against them and a look in the mirror confirmed that he looked as rough as he felt. He parked his truck and sat there a minute. The front door of the old farm house opened and Harmony stepped out.

She stood on the porch watching him, waiting. She would be wanting information on Doris Tanner. He opened the truck door and got out. He hoped she had a pot of coffee brewing, because he was going to need it if he planned on getting through this day.

“How is she?” Harmony sat down on one of the rocking chairs. He took the other.

“She’s going to make it. They were able to keep her in Grove. Bill is still at the hospital. Fifty-two years they’ve been married. He said the only time they’ve been apart is when he served in the military.”

“That’s a lot of years of loving another person.”

“Yeah, it is. Are the kids still sleeping?” He leaned back in the rocking chair to wait for her answer and he wished like anything he could fall asleep on that front porch with the morning breeze and the sound of cattle, probably from Cooper Creek, in the distance.

“They are. I have coffee.”

“I was hoping.” He sat forward in the chair planning to get up but she stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“Stay. I’ll bring you a cup.”

“You don’t have to.”

She smiled down at him and he had to admit, when she smiled, it lit up a man’s world. Not that he was interested, but it felt good to know that he wasn’t too far gone.

She patted his hand and her smile teased. “If we’re going to have a truce and be allies, I think we might want to make it believable.”

“That sounds like a plan, Harmony. I like the idea of us being allies.”

“Purely platonic, right?”

“Platonic. Yes, just friends. But having each other will hopefully mean a lot less people nosing in our business.”

Her hand left his and she walked inside, the screen door banging softly behind her. He leaned back in the rocking chair and closed his eyes. From inside he could hear her singing along to the radio. He pulled his hat down over his eyes.

When he woke up, the sun was full on his face and it was hot. He came awake slowly, remembering where he was and why his back hurt. It was Saturday morning and he was sitting in a wooden rocking chair on Harmony’s front porch because he’d been up all night.

What had happened to that cup of coffee? He glanced at his watch and realized he’d been sleeping for a while. He started to push himself out of the chair but stopped when he heard laughter from inside. Callie said something in her high pitched, four-year-old voice. The sound of a guitar followed. Loud strumming and then soft. A moment later the strumming ended and turned into a song played by someone who had been taught by the best. Two voices, Callie’s and Harmony’s, sang a familiar country song.

He pushed himself up, stretching to relieve the kinks in his back. When he walked through the front door Callie looked up, her smile growing wide. Cash was stretched out on the floor pushing a toy truck. Harmony stopped playing the guitar and set it to the side.

“Don’t stop on my account.” He picked up the twelve-string acoustic and put it back in her hands.

“I think we’re done.” Harmony leaned the guitar carefully against the table next to her. “Are you hungry?”

“You babysit and cook breakfast?” He plopped down on the overstuffed sofa and watched with a smile as her cheeks turned pink.

“I’m multitalented.” She reached for the cane next to her. “And I can get you that cup of coffee now that you’re awake.”

“I definitely need it. One hour of sleep is going to make for a long day.”

He started to get up but Cash drove the truck over to his feet and made a siren sound. Or something that resembled a siren. Dylan moved from the couch to the floor and the little boy scooted next to him. He had a great smile, and his mom’s eyes. His blond hair would probably turn brown as he got older. For now he sucked his thumb and sometimes made it to the bathroom instead of wetting in his pants.

Katrina had insisted they start potty training early. Because she’d known she would be gone. She’d known it would all fall on Dylan, but that he’d have family to help. She’d counted on that, on the Coopers being involved in the lives of her two children.

She’d come from a crazy, mixed-up family herself and she had wanted something more for her kids. So she’d made him their guardian early on, before anyone could say she wasn’t in her right mind. No one as young as Kat should lose a battle with breast cancer, Dylan thought. If he could have fought the battle for her, he would have.

Callie had found a toy truck with a horse trailer that included horses. She pushed it to his side and grinned up at him, but something was missing in that smile. She was a smart girl, his Callie. She always seemed to know when he was lost in memories. She got lost, too, sometimes. She had nightmares and sometimes cried and hit for no reason. Dylan’s mom, Angie Cooper, had recommended a psychologist who could help a child process grief.

“Breakfast,” Harmony called from the kitchen. Dylan smiled down at the children. Callie pushed her truck away from him and brought back the television remote.

“Do you want to watch cartoons?”

The four-year-old nodded. Her blond hair matched her brother’s but Katrina had insisted it would stay blond. Dylan kind of doubted it. He channel surfed until Callie nodded her head at a show with ponies. After giving them each a hug, he walked through the dining room to the big country kitchen.

Harmony’s back was to him. Her shoulders were stiff and she was leaning on the counter. He walked up behind her and put a hand on her back. Her shoulders flinched. He rubbed her shoulders until she started to relax.

“Can you take anything for the pain?” he asked.

“Non-narcotic pain reliever. Over the counter, mostly. I drink lots of herbal tea.” She moved away from his touch and turned to look at him. “It just happened, you know.”

She meant her addiction. He waited, knowing she would talk about it when she was ready. Instead she shook her head. “It’s getting better.”

“Yeah, that’s how it is with pain.”

She took a biscuit out of the microwave and handed it to him. It was piled with cheese, bacon and fried eggs. He leaned against the counter and took a bite while she poured them each a cup of coffee.

“Callie and Cash seem to be adjusting.”

He nodded, following her to the dining room. “It hasn’t been easy for them, moving here, where everything’s different and there’s no one they know from their old life.”

“I’m sure it hasn’t been easy for you, either. You left here a single guy on your way to a bull ride and came back, what, a year later a dad to two kids.”

“Something like that. Katrina was a good mom.” He pulled out a chair from the old oak table in the middle of the big room. “The kids don’t—well, Cash doesn’t understand. Callie gets it but she still worries that her mom will come back to the house in Texas and we won’t be there.”

“I’m sorry.” She absently stirred her coffee.

“Yeah, well, life isn’t always easy, is it, Harmony? We were pretty full of ourselves ten years ago.”

She smiled at that. “You were full of yourself.”

“And you were the princess.”

“Life has a way of making us look at things a little differently.” She took a sip of her coffee before continuing. “One day you’re the princess and the next day your best friend is gone, your body is broken, you find yourself hooked on painkillers and...”

He put the biscuit back on the plate and took a long look at the woman sitting next to him. She didn’t look broken. She still looked like a princess. He guessed he still looked like the player he’d been all of his life.

From the outside someone might see two people, whole and enjoying themselves.

If they looked a little closer, they would see the pain in Harmony’s eyes, in her expression. They would see that he was about as exhausted as a man could get. Maybe they were the best allies that ever joined forces.

“If we’re going to do this, we need boundaries.” She stirred her coffee some more.

“Boundaries?”

She looked up. “Dylan, I came here because I was looking for space. Not a relationship.”

“Me, too. That’s why we’re perfect for each other. I know where you stand, you know where I stand. As long as we’re helping each other, we have a good reason to tell the rest of Dawson to leave us be.”

“You really think this is going to stop people from offering to help?”

“It won’t stop them, but it will slow ’em down a little. Especially the matchmakers who think I need a wife.”

She smiled at that. “That bad, huh?”

“Worse than bad. I think they had a list of prospects written up before I came home.” He finished eating the last bite of biscuit and had to admit, she wasn’t a bad cook. “What about you?”

“Me?”

“What are your plans for the future? How long are you staying in Dawson?”

She shrugged, slim shoulders under a pale blue T-shirt. She played with the handle of the coffee cup and didn’t look at him.

“I don’t know. I thought if I came here, I’d find the person I used to be, before life got crazy. I need time and space to put my life back together. And then maybe I’ll go back and finish college. I always thought I’d be a teacher.”

“Not a singer?”

She shook her head and smiled up at him. “I’m not the musician in the family. I leave that up to Clay and Lila.” Her older brother and little sister. He knew that both had somewhat decent careers.

“You’re good. I heard you playing.”

“I’m okay, but not good. I play for myself. I hadn’t played in years but since I had the accident I’ve picked it back up.”

A screech from the living room ended the conversation, reminding him that with Cash and Callie in his life, he had no room for relationships. All of his energy went to raising the two kids in the living room.

He headed that way with Harmony following. What he found in the living room were two kids wrestling over one toy. He scooped them up in his arms and gave Harmony an apologetic smile.

“I think it’s time for me to get these two home for a nap. And maybe I’ll see you at church tomorrow.”

“I’m not sure,” she responded as she gathered up the diaper bag and followed him to the door.

He had a feeling that “not sure” meant no way would he see her in church.

Chapter Four

Harmony hadn’t planned on attending church; it just happened. At some point during the long, sleepless night while pacing the living-room floor, she’d decided to give faith a second chance. She’d stood at the window watching the sky turn from inky darkness to gray to palest pink on the eastern horizon, and realized she’d been empty inside for a long time.

In the stillness of early morning she’d leaned her forehead against the cool glass of the window and thought about being fourteen again. Fourteen and knowing what she wanted out of life. Chasing calves as she helped her dad with immunizations, dozing in the green grass of the field as bees buzzed and a horse grazed nearby, her brother somewhere close playing the guitar and singing an Elvis song.

She’d known herself then. Her faith had taken her to Cooper Creek with several other members of Dawson Community Church for a late summer baptizing service.

As she’d packed her bags to come to Dawson, she had said she needed a place to be alone, without family and friends invading every quiet inch of her life. It hadn’t been the complete truth. She’d come to Dawson to find joy in life again. Dawson was the place where she remembered being happiest.

She’d been hoping that coming here would help her bring the pieces of her life back together. And one of the missing pieces was the faith she’d walked away from.

Several hours after that revelation, she stood in the parking lot of the church looking up at the white building with the steeple reaching to the sky wondering what she’d been thinking. How had this been a good idea? It wasn’t that easy, to fix a life. Church wasn’t the bandage she could put on the last seven or eight years of mistakes and expect them to be instantly fixed.

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