A Cowboy To Come Home To. Donna Alward

Melissa stepped forward to collect it, only to hear Martha announce, “Yours, too, Coop. Extra cheese and a side order of onion rings, just like you wanted.”

      He took the bag from Martha and handed her a twenty, then leaned forward and kissed the older woman’s cheek. “You sure know how to look after a man,” he teased, sending her a wink.

      “Oh, go on with you,” she answered, flapping a hand at him but grinning widely. “Your charm’s wasted on me.”

      “Did you put in extra ketchup?”

      “Sure I did.”

      “Then it’s not wasted. Have a good night, Martha.”

      Melissa restrained herself from rolling her eyes. The thing about Cooper was that the teasing truly was genuine. He was a charmer, but there wasn’t anything fake about it. If there had been, people would see clear through it. Maybe that was what had hurt so much. Coop had been the most honest, genuine man she’d ever known. Until, of course, he’d lied.

      It was quieter outside. Melissa expelled a huge breath. “Well, good night.” She started walking across the parking lot to the sidewalk.

      Cooper’s voice stopped her. “Hey, Mel, you want a lift? Getting dark for you to be walking home alone.”

      “I’ll be fine. I like the air.”

      “But my truck’s right here. I can drop you off, no trouble.”

      She halted and turned back, pasting on a smile. She did not want Cooper Ford driving her home or anywhere else. “Really,” she said firmly. “I’ll be fine.”

      He frowned. He was wearing the same battered jean jacket as he had that day in her shop, and she marveled once more at how broad his shoulders were. She should not be noticing these things. She wasn’t exactly blind, she reminded herself, but the real problem was they shouldn’t matter. She couldn’t honestly say they were simple detached observations. She noticed, and then she got this odd feeling. Kind of tingly and warm.

      “If you won’t take a drive, I’ll walk you home.”

      Suddenly he didn’t seem so attractive. Why did he have to be all up in her business lately? Hadn’t they managed to avoid each other quite successfully the past three years? It had been an unspoken agreement, and suddenly he was breaking it left, right and center.

      She decided to ask. While the smell of meat loaf wafted up and teased her nostrils, she squared her shoulders and faced him. “Why now, Cooper? For three years we’ve barely said two words to each other. Now all of a sudden you’re making conversation and offering to walk me home—in Cadence Creek, and on a route I’ve walked a million times.”

      He stepped closer. “How long did you think we could each pretend that the other didn’t exist? I guess I thought three years was enough time for you to stop hating me quite so much. That we could stop avoiding each other in a town this small. It’s gotten to be quite a challenge, you know. Trying to stay out of your way.”

      “I don’t hate you.”

      “Really?”

      He raised his eyebrow again, and she could practically hear what he was silently saying. Riiight.

      She sighed. “You’re not going to just let me go home, are you?”

      “Not walking alone. Cadence Creek is a nice town, but it’s not totally crime free, you know. Stuff happens.”

      “Fine. But I’m still walking. I need the fresh air. It’s been a long day.”

      He caught up to her and fell into step beside her on the sidewalk. “I haven’t seen you at the house this week.”

      “I was there one afternoon and did some painting in the living room. You were gone already when I arrived.”

      “I’m sure you planned it that way.”

      She kept walking. It was kind of surreal, strolling through town in the semidark with Cooper. “I ended up being swamped this week,” she confessed. “If this keeps up, I’m going to have to hire a part-time designer.”

      She bit down on her lip. She’d also made a trip to Edmonton, to the clinic, when conditions were “right.” A few weeks from now she’d know whether or not she needed to pee on a stick. She kept telling herself not to get her hopes up, but each morning when she woke, the first thing she thought of was that this time next year she could be a mother.

      They were passing by the Creekside Park and Playground when Cooper reached out and put his hand on her arm. “Hey, why don’t we stop and eat? There are a few picnic tables here, and our food’s getting cold.”

      “You want to eat in the dark? Are you crazy?”

      “By the time I walk you home and get back to my truck, my stuff will be cold.”

      “You didn’t have to walk me,” she pointed out.

      “Yes, I did.”

      She recognized that tone. Cooper was charm itself, but he was also incredibly stubborn. Not only that, but she was so hungry her stomach was actually hurting, and the food smelled unbelievable. “Fine. You’re going to pester me until you get your way, anyway.”

      They crossed the grass to a picnic table and Melissa spread out the paper bag as a place mat. Cooper took the spot across from her and began pulling take-out containers from his own bag. She gaped as she counted three: an extra-large one holding his burger and fries, a medium-sized one with onion rings that smelled fantastic and a smaller one with the Wagon Wheel’s special recipe coleslaw.

      “You’re going to eat all of that? Yourself?”

      “I’m a growing boy.” He patted his flat belly and opened the container holding his burger.

      She shook her head. “It’s a wonder you’re not the size of a barn.”

      She picked up her plastic fork and dipped it into the mashed potatoes and gravy. The food wasn’t piping-hot any longer, but was still quite warm, and as she tasted the first bite she was struck by a pang so bittersweet it made her heart ache.

      This was something they might have done in the old days: a bunch of them together, some takeout, hanging out on a Saturday night. Only it wasn’t a bunch anymore, but just she and Cooper. Some of their circle of friends had drifted away, some had left Cadence Creek and gone to work in bigger towns and cities. So little of the past remained. In some ways it was good, but in other ways, Melissa missed it. Up until things had blown apart, there’d been a lot of good times.

      “You okay?” Cooper asked, pausing to look at her while holding a French fry.

      “Yeah, I’m fine. Just thinking about when we were kids, and some of the stuff we used to do on a Saturday night. It sure wasn’t picking up takeout because we were too tired from dealing with ‘real life’ to cook.”

      He chuckled. “We all have to grow up sometime. At least mostly.”

      He held out the box of onion rings. “Have one. You know you want to.”

      She wasn’t sure if she was glad that he remembered her fondness for onion rings or not. It was too much to resist as he waved them under her nose. She reached into the package and took out a round battered ring. When she bit into it, her teeth caught the onion and it came out of the batter. She pulled it into her mouth like a piece of spaghetti.

      Cooper laughed. “Good, right?”

      “So good,” she admitted.

      He put the box between them on the table, an unspoken invitation to share. A peace offering? Was he hoping that the deep-fried treat would accomplish what time had not? It was a big thing to ask from a carton of onion rings.

      For the moment, she chose to cut into her meat loaf and peas and carrots.

      They were quiet for a few minutes,