Sometimes it was nice to work away from his brothers. He found his temper not nearly as quick when they weren’t around, though he did tend to make snap judgments and quick decisions about people when he shouldn’t. Working with his men and women in the hay lofts, fields, and equipment shed had helped him get to know a couple of them better, and he’d had to reform some of his previous opinions.

  Everyone in the family entered the farmhouse at will, and Will wasn’t surprised to find the garage door unlocked, as well as the entrance to the house inside the garage.

  Inside the house, silence prevailed, and Will glanced at the clock on the stove, realizing just how early it was. Not even six yet, though Daddy had been an early-riser for as long as Will could remember. He used to come into Will’s bedroom, which he’d managed to have all to himself, and wake him about five.

  “Milking time,” Daddy would say, swiping Will’s hair off his forehead. “Ten minutes.”

  If Will wasn’t ready to leave the house in ten minutes, fire rained from heaven. At least it seemed that way to Will, as Daddy’s ginger-haired genes didn’t allow him to hold back his temper or his tongue.

  Age had tempered him, and Will did enjoy seeing Daddy soften and take care of Mama the best he could. He’d been the strongest man Will had ever known, but he couldn’t get Mama in and out of bed anymore. Travis had been coming in the mornings, and Will often came with him. Lee came in the evenings, and again, Will often came with him.

  He’d always been stuck between the two of them—and in fact, was the very middle child of the family. He sometimes felt like a fulcrum, like everything in the Cooper family hinged on him, and he didn’t know which side to hold up properly.

  Will stepped over to the sink to wash his hands, the water coming out ice cold. It would take a few minutes to warm up, but Will got scrubbing anyway.

  “Morning,” Daddy croaked as he entered the kitchen.

  Will looked up from the suds and running water, a smile instantly touching his face. “Morning, Daddy.”

  “Can you help Mama into the bathroom?” Daddy wouldn’t look at Will as he spoke. He pulled open the fridge though he wouldn’t take anything from it.

  “Sure can.” Will shut off the water and reached for a towel. Part of him wanted to wrap his father in a hug so tight that he’d know how much Will loved him. They talked in the Cooper household; it wasn’t like Will hadn’t told his daddy how much he loved him. It felt like it had maybe been a while, and Will had maybe caused a few too many problems lately.

  “Daddy,” he said, and his dad turned from the fridge. Will fiddled with the towel, wiping it between his already dry fingers. “Listen, I’m sorry if I’ve been a problem lately.”

  “Will,” Daddy said. “You’re not a problem.”

  “It’s just—I didn’t mean to make more work for anyone by leavin’ to see Gretchen.”

  Daddy cocked his head. “I know that. You haven’t been seein’ her much lately.”

  “Yeah.” Will reached to hang the towel back on the handle of the stove. “It’s been busy.”

  “Trav manages.”

  “Trav’s engaged,” Will said. “I’ve been out with Gretchen twice.”

  “But you want to see her again, don’t you?” Daddy leaned into the counter, and Will wondered how much of that was necessary and how much was just because.

  “Yes,” he admitted. “Our timing just hasn’t worked out. Her daddy is sick, and he lives in Short Tail.”

  “You’ll bring her to Sunday dinner this week,” Daddy said, smiling at Will. “I know Mama wants to meet her, and I’ll corral everyone and make them behave.”

  Will chuckled and shook his head. Despite his temper, Daddy couldn’t really make anyone behave these days. He’d raised five headstrong children, with plenty of opinions and the loudest voices in Texas. They’d try, though, and Will loved them all for that.

  “Text Trav that he doesn’t need to come this morning,” Will said. “I’ll go help Mama.”

  “You call that woman too,” Daddy called after him as Will started for the hall that led into the master suite. “Sunday dinner.”

  Will didn’t answer, his mind buzzing with what this weekend would be like for Gretchen. He was fairly sure she had an event, but he couldn’t remember what it was. He hadn’t been to town in over a week now, and he didn’t keep up with the social events there anyway.

  He rapped lightly on the bedroom door and said, “It’s Will, Mama,” before entering. His mother sat up in bed, several pillows propped haphazardly behind her. “You don’t need to try to get up yourself,” he said, hurrying now that he saw the evidence of her attempts to get enough support to stand.

  Her left leg hung over the side of the mattress, and Will moved it further out, her right leg following it. He wrapped his arms around her torso as her legs moved, holding her up as carefully as he could. On the end of the bed, Queen Elizabeth the golden retriever watched.

  “Morning, baby,” Mama said, her voice raspy.

  “You thirsty this morning?” he asked her, and she nodded against his shoulder.

  “I’ll get you in the bathroom, and then go grab you a drink,” he said. “Ready?”

  “Yes,” she said, scooting to the edge of the bed, her arms up around his shoulders.

  “All right. Three, two, one.” He counted slow and lifted right after he said one. She pushed as much as she could, which was basically nothing, but he got her to her feet. He didn’t release her instantly but gave her a few moments to steady herself.

  “Thank you, Will,” she said, pure gratitude in her voice. “My pills are in the bathroom. I can just get a drink in there.”

  “You’ll use the hand-bars, right?” he asked, though she did. Mama seemed to understand her limits. In the beginning of her illness, she hadn’t, and she’d fallen four or five times before Cherry had come home and she and Lee had lectured Mama into submission.

  Will had been present at the family meeting, and it still haunted him. He hated watching his mother cry, and he had no idea what it would be like to accept a devastating diagnosis. She’d been battling cancer for over five years now, and Will had seen her rapidly decline, then claw her way back inch by inch.

  Her issues now had taken a long time to wear her down, and her decline had been slowly intruding on her daily activities for over a year now.

  He helped her into the bathroom, where he’d helped Lee and Travis affix long silver bars to every available wall. They bordered the toilet and waited on the wall across from it. They’d put two in the standing shower, one on each wall. One sat just above the towel rack, and Mama reached for that one just inside the door.

  “I’m okay,” she said, though the walk around the bed and into the bathroom had winded her. “I need a few minutes, and then will you help me out to the couch?”

  “Of course,” Will said, his voice low and quiet. He reached to close the door behind Mama, and he leaned his forehead against the barrier between them. Helplessness washed over him in waves, and tears pricked his eyes.

  He never let anyone see him cry. Ever. He rarely did anyway, but hearing his mama’s labored breathing had punched him in the lungs this morning. He suddenly seemed to be leaking from every hole in his face, and he turned away from the bathroom and grabbed a tissue from his father’s bureau.

  He didn’t want to grow old alone. He’d already spent four decades by himself, with varying periods where he’d had a girlfriend at his side. After he’d wiped his nose and eyes, he pulled his phone from his pocket and went to Gretchen’s texts.

  They’d been in contact; it wasn’t like he never talked to her anymore. He just hadn’t seen her in the flesh for eight days now.

  “Too long,” he murmured to himself as he tapped the phone icon to call her. A text simply would not do this morning.

  “Will,” she said, plenty of surprise in her voice. “What’s up?”

  “I miss you,” he blurted out. “I hate that I haven’t seen you in so long. I know it’s Thursday, and you have your routine with your daddy.” He turned around, his mind on the fritz. “But what about lunch? Can I bring you lunch? Even if I only stay for ten minutes, I’ll get to see you.”

  As he spoke, he realized how vulnerable he’d just made himself. He heard the sound of his voice, and he knew it had been desperate. As he tried to decide if he cared that Gretchen knew he missed her and wanted to see her, she said, “Lunch would be wonderful, Will.” She cleared her throat, and that made Will smile. “I miss you too.”

  14

  “Will,” Gretchen said, giggling as she tipped her head back. Will kissed her neck, and she enjoyed the feel of his hair through her fingers. He’d shown up with a couple of bags of food and wearing a cowboy hat, but she had no idea where either was at the moment. “My lunchtime is almost over.”

  “Is it?” he murmured, his lips coming back to hers. She could honestly kiss him forever, and she’d much rather do that than eat any day. She’d experienced several moments of doubt over the past eight days.

  She’d gone through some hard things at work, with one of her best out-front employees putting in her two weeks’ notice. Her family life felt like someone had put it in a salad spinner and just kept pumping that mechanism on top to make everything mix up more and more, faster and faster.

  She’d wanted to tell Will about her brother deciding not to bring the kids to the area for the long weekend they’d just had, but Will had problems of his own.

  You still should’ve, a voice inside her head whispered, and Will seemed to hear it, because he pulled away. He didn’t back up, and she couldn’t move away from the wall just around the corner from the sink, nor could she avoid his gaze.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah,” she said, finally able to look up and into those dazzling eyes. He wore compassion and desire there, one warring with the other. A vein of doubt seeped into her expression, and she gave him a smile. “Really.”

  “How’s your daddy?” he asked, finally giving her an inch of breathing room. She quickly closed it between them again, not quite ready to let him go. He’d said he couldn’t stay long, and they’d been kissing for a good twenty minutes.

  “He’s…fine,” she said.

  “Why didn’t you call me?”

  “And say what?” she challenged. “That he’s telling the same stories over and over? That he keeps saying he’s not going to go down without a fight? Which, by the way, I’ve heard five thousand times, and if I have to hear it again…” Gretchen shook her head, partly angry and mostly frustrated. Dejected. Hopeless.

  She drew in a breath and sniffed back her tears. “I’m fine. How’s your mama?”

  Will gazed at her, his eyes still full of energy, full of life, full of disbelief. “Gretchen, it’s okay to not be fine.”

  “Is it though?” she challenged him again. “Who’s going to run the shop if I break down? You?”

  “Yes,” he spat back at her. “I could come help.”

  “When? Is that before or after you work sixteen hours on the farm?” Her chest heaved, and she couldn’t breathe in here. This wasn’t how lunch was supposed to go. She tried to move past him, but Will wouldn’t let her.

  “Hey, wait,” he said, and his voice was so soft and so unchallenging that she waited. “Do you wanna know why I called you this morning close to six a.m.?”

  She searched his face, but the man possessed incredible shutters. He never let anyone see what he didn’t want them to, even her. “Yes,” she whispered.

  “I’d stopped by my parents’ house on my run, because I’m just so tired. Daddy came into the kitchen and said Mama needed help to get to the bathroom. So I go do that, and it’s horrible.” He sighed and looked down at the ground, showing her the top of his head, where he had blond, brown, red, and even gray hair growing. She wanted to lift his face, lift his countenance, and lift his spirits.

  He did that himself, a new type of blaze entering his expression. An angry, fiery blaze in those aqua eyes. “So I get her in the bathroom, and she’s panting because it’s so hard to walk the fifteen steps from the bed. I close the door, and I just stand there, and I want to cry.” His voice broke on the last word, and that cracked everything inside Gretchen.

  She took his face in one palm and slid her other along his waist. “Did you cry?”

  “Maybe for a second,” he admitted. “And all I could think about was you. I wanted to hear your voice, and I wanted to see you, and I absolutely couldn’t let another day go by where we just texted or you called me on your drive home from Short Tail.”

  He leaned into her touch, and then turned his head and placed a kiss against her wrist. “I’m sorry life is hard for you right now. I will carry any burden for you that I can.”

  “It’s not like you’re just watching parades and enjoying the sunshine.”

  Will’s anger dissolved into a smile. “True, but I did only run three miles this morning.”

  “Heaven forbid,” Gretchen teased. “How will you look yourself in the eyes come this evening?” She giggled, and he chuckled, and when he kissed her this time, it was with new energy, new passion, and Gretchen wanted everything Will had to offer her. She could only hope she had something to offer him.

  “…find her,” someone said in the back recesses of her mind. By the time she registered Jon’s voice saying, “There you are,” she’d been caught kissing Will.

  He backed up in a hurry then, stooping to grab his fallen cowboy hat and smash it on his head. He looked at Jon and then Gretchen, a delicious blush creeping into his face.

  Jon glared with the power of four suns. “There’s a customer out here asking about a custom cake.”

  “We don’t do cakes,” Gretchen said with as much professionalism as she could muster. “Jon, have you met William Cooper?”

  Jon nodded at him, no extended hand in sight. “Will.”

  “Jon.”

  Gretchen looked back and forth between the two of them, and she hadn’t been around many dogfights, but this definitely felt like that. The tension rode on the air, and she had no idea why.

  Jon exhaled first, his boxy shoulders relaxing. “I told Mrs. Lunt that we don’t do cakes, but she’s insisting you talked to her and said we could.”

  “Oh, Wilma Lunt. Right. I did talk to her a week or so ago. I’ll be right out.”

  Jon flicked his gaze to Will again. “Okay, and then we need to get started on those mint wafer cookies, because they take forever to set.” He turned and marched away, disappearing around the corner quickly.

  Gretchen gaped after him, even when she couldn’t see him. “Does he think I don’t know how long it takes to make the mint wafer cookies? They’re my recipe.” She looked at Will, completely befuddled. “He’s never acted like that, I swear. He’s a nice guy. A great candy-maker.”

  “He likes you,” Will said, the frown deep between his eyes.

  Gretchen could not compute. “What?”

  “He—likes—you,” Will said just as darkly. “He’s mad you’re going out with me, and finding us kissing?” He shook his head. “He doesn’t like me on principle, and he doesn’t like you bein’ with me.”

  Gretchen laughed, but Will did not join in. “That can’t be it,” she said, sudden worry gnawing through her. She couldn’t lose Jon too. If he quit…Gretchen would seriously curl into a ball and sob in the corner.

  “That’s it,” Will said. “Should we go eat?”

  Gretchen looked around for the bags of food he’d brought, but she didn’t see them. He walked around the corner and returned with them a moment later, all traces of ire gone from his face. “We can sit in my truck for a couple of minutes.”

  “All right,” she said, thinking she better go talk to Mrs. Lunt first. “Can you give me a few minutes to talk to Wilma? I’ll be right out, I swear.”

  “Sure thing, sweetheart.” He brushed a kiss across her cheek, his gaze catching hers and holding. He didn’t add anything else, at least not verbally. But Gretchen felt the searing heat of what he might’ve said flow all the way down her right leg to her toes, and then jolt up her left side in a powerful wave.

  He went through the back door where he’d entered the candy kitchen, and with flames licking through her, she went to talk to Wilma Lunt about baking her a cake.

  Gretchen survived another Thursday night with her father. The doctor didn’t have anything new to report, and the medicine her father took couldn’t do more for him than it currently was. They got the same old sandwiches, and she listened to the Oldies station on her radio as she drove him home.

  She tempered chocolate and made rose-flavored truffles for a bridal shower that weekend. She skipped church on Sunday and instead, took Aunt Patty to breakfast in a tiny café out in the middle of somewhere that didn’t even have a name. Then they went to Daddy’s for the afternoon, the same as usual.

  More weekdays marched by, and the memories of kissing Will so passionately against the wall just inside the back door of the candy kitchen began to fade. She texted with him every day. He called her a time or two, and she returned the favor. They were dating, and she didn’t doubt that they were together.

  Life is busy she told herself more times than she could count.

  He’d originally invited her to a Sabbath Day dinner at the farm, but he’d called in the morning and said tempers were high already, and perhaps she should come another time. She’d suggested a dinner date on Wednesday, but then the manager of a huge department store had stopped by five minutes before she was set to leave, and she wanted to hire Gretchen to make her “becoming famous” truffles for a massive sidewalk sale.

  Thea’s words, not Gretchen’s, though she was glad someone had told Thea—the general manager at the largest department store in the mall—about her truffles. She suspected Karyn, but her friend wouldn’t admit to it.