ever since Jim died. As much as one part of her appreciated Cooper riding in on his white horse disguised as a ratty old pickup, another part of her resented his very presence. She and Clint had managed on their own for all these years and didn’t need Cooper showing up, thinking he had all the answers. Only the joke was on her, because at the moment, as overwhelmed as she was—he did.
A fact that scared her to her core.
Because Cooper might be a dependable, stand-up guy in the Navy. But when it came to his track record on being around when his family needed him most? His stats were an abysmal 1-288-0. A single, early-morning chicken rescue hardly made him a trustworthy man.
Chapter Six
Cooper gritted his teeth against the icy assault that had him pulling his hat brim lower and his coat collar higher. Clouds may have cleared, making way for blinding sun, but the wind had only grown stronger, driving the dry twelve inches of snow into an otherworldly landscape of towering drifts and bare earth.
“Sorry, girl.” He leaned forward, stroking Sassy’s mane.
It was a good thing he hadn’t dragged his nephew out here—though if the kid planned on making his living off the land he would soon enough have to learn how much fun it was working in less than ideal conditions.
Cooper would’ve given his left nut for his SEAL cold-weather gear right about now. He was a damn fool for thinking Jim’s duster and his straw hat could handle what had to be a wind chill well into negative digits.
A thirty-minute ride landed him in the heart of the herd. They’d strayed a good mile from the feed station, so after driving them all in that direction, he broke the stock tank’s ice, then headed back to the barn.
With the wind at his back, the trek wasn’t quite as miserable, but damn near close.
He got Sassy settled in her stall then loaded his truck bed with hay bales and range cubes before heading back out to the herd. He considered himself a die-hard traditionalist, much preferring to check cattle on horseback, but years and missions had battered his body, and the cold combined with being back in a saddle made him ache in places he’d forgotten he had.
With the heater blasting and staticky Hank Williams playing on the radio, Cooper’s mind was no longer preoccupied with the cold, but considering he now had the luxury of allowing his mind to wander while zigzagging between drifts, that wasn’t necessarily a good thing.
When he refused to think about his cantankerous old man, or the laser beams of hate his niece blasted him with, his thoughts drifted to the forbidden—Millie in her robe. The way it’d hung open at her throat, showing far too much collarbone than he’d been comfortable seeing.
He’d always had a thing for that particular spot on a woman. But Millie wasn’t just any woman. Their shared history made his most complex missions look like a cakewalk. She’d been his brother’s wife, for God’s sake. Some things were sacred between brothers and that was one.
Thou shall not covet thy brother’s wife.
Didn’t matter that Jim was long gone.
It was a matter of principle.
Cooper had thankfully reached the herd, squelching the whole issue by busting up hay bales then spreading range cubes. Bellows and snorts accompanied his surprisingly satisfying work.
Though Cooper was usually outside, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been around animals. He’d missed it. The work’s simple grace. No one shot at him. No one’s life was at stake if he forgot any of a mission’s minutiae. Don’t get him wrong—he loved his job, but this...
He breathed deeply of the lung-searing cold air, but instead of it bothering him, he found it invigorating. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed this place. How much this land was still a part of him.
Like Millie?
Yeah... He wasn’t going there.
He finished counting cattle, only to come up one short of the seventy-six Peg had told him they
A fact that scared her to her core.
Because Cooper might be a dependable, stand-up guy in the Navy. But when it came to his track record on being around when his family needed him most? His stats were an abysmal 1-288-0. A single, early-morning chicken rescue hardly made him a trustworthy man.
Chapter Six
Cooper gritted his teeth against the icy assault that had him pulling his hat brim lower and his coat collar higher. Clouds may have cleared, making way for blinding sun, but the wind had only grown stronger, driving the dry twelve inches of snow into an otherworldly landscape of towering drifts and bare earth.
“Sorry, girl.” He leaned forward, stroking Sassy’s mane.
It was a good thing he hadn’t dragged his nephew out here—though if the kid planned on making his living off the land he would soon enough have to learn how much fun it was working in less than ideal conditions.
Cooper would’ve given his left nut for his SEAL cold-weather gear right about now. He was a damn fool for thinking Jim’s duster and his straw hat could handle what had to be a wind chill well into negative digits.
A thirty-minute ride landed him in the heart of the herd. They’d strayed a good mile from the feed station, so after driving them all in that direction, he broke the stock tank’s ice, then headed back to the barn.
With the wind at his back, the trek wasn’t quite as miserable, but damn near close.
He got Sassy settled in her stall then loaded his truck bed with hay bales and range cubes before heading back out to the herd. He considered himself a die-hard traditionalist, much preferring to check cattle on horseback, but years and missions had battered his body, and the cold combined with being back in a saddle made him ache in places he’d forgotten he had.
With the heater blasting and staticky Hank Williams playing on the radio, Cooper’s mind was no longer preoccupied with the cold, but considering he now had the luxury of allowing his mind to wander while zigzagging between drifts, that wasn’t necessarily a good thing.
When he refused to think about his cantankerous old man, or the laser beams of hate his niece blasted him with, his thoughts drifted to the forbidden—Millie in her robe. The way it’d hung open at her throat, showing far too much collarbone than he’d been comfortable seeing.
He’d always had a thing for that particular spot on a woman. But Millie wasn’t just any woman. Their shared history made his most complex missions look like a cakewalk. She’d been his brother’s wife, for God’s sake. Some things were sacred between brothers and that was one.
Thou shall not covet thy brother’s wife.
Didn’t matter that Jim was long gone.
It was a matter of principle.
Cooper had thankfully reached the herd, squelching the whole issue by busting up hay bales then spreading range cubes. Bellows and snorts accompanied his surprisingly satisfying work.
Though Cooper was usually outside, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been around animals. He’d missed it. The work’s simple grace. No one shot at him. No one’s life was at stake if he forgot any of a mission’s minutiae. Don’t get him wrong—he loved his job, but this...
He breathed deeply of the lung-searing cold air, but instead of it bothering him, he found it invigorating. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed this place. How much this land was still a part of him.
Like Millie?
Yeah... He wasn’t going there.
He finished counting cattle, only to come up one short of the seventy-six Peg had told him they
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