As much as I do
944 Words
*Cooper*
We work well together, but then we always have. I stretch the wire taut, wrap it around a post, and hold it tight, watching as she secures it with a few strategically placed U-shaped nails. Although I want things right between us, I want answers and figure the direction of the questions is likely to put her back up but am willing to risk it.
“I rode by that area you had set aside for drilling.” I'm aware of the hammer hitting the nail with a little more force, causing the post to vibrate. “It looks like someone set fire to those derricks they were building.”
Stepping back, she meets my gaze. “Like I said, I lost interest.”
It seems a drastic measure to take for a mere lack of enthusiasm. “Berringer have anything to do with that decision?”
“Yep.” She huffs.
“Is he Dee’s father?” I can’t help but ask.
Her mouth flattens, but she doesn’t look away, as though she is weighing how much to trust me. Finally, she nods.
“I thought you liked him.” I say.
She gives me a sad smile. “I thought I did, too.”
She strides over to the next post. Following her, frustration at the man for hurting her and letting her down gets to me, I yank on the wire so hard I'm surprised I don’t jerk the previous post out of the ground. “What happened?” I ask.
With a shrug, she positions the nail and gives it a whack. “We just didn’t work out.”
I want the specific reasons but know from the tone of her voice that they aren’t coming anytime soon. “Does he know about Dee?”
Another nail positioned, another whack that nearly upends the post. “Things were over between us before I knew I was with child. He was long gone. If he hadn’t been, I wouldn’t have wanted to be saddled with him, so it was just as well he wasn’t around.”
I can’t help but think the man had a right to know. Hell, I would want to know if I had a young’un about, which I might mention once our relationship moved from tentative to sturdier. “It had to be hard, Faith, having a baby, not being married.”
She smiles, the wistful beauty of it nearly breaking my heart. “When I started increasing, I stopped going into town. Ranch hands figured it out, of course. I’m sure some of them didn’t keep it to themselves; rumors circulated through the area. A few days after Dee was born, when I was strong enough to get out of bed, Pa took us into town, introduced his granddaughter to every banker, shopkeeper, lawyer, newspaperman, widow, man, and she-wolf around. So much love and pride were reflected in his voice. I have never loved that man more than I did that day.”
I can picture Chase with his long stride, his bigger-than-life ways, daring anyone to find fault with the babe in his arms or her mother. The town might now have a mayor and a town council, but Moonshadowville still belongs to Chase. His influence cannot be measured. No one wants to get on his bad side.
“You should have let me know, Faith.” I say softly.
“She wasn’t your responsibility. You left here looking for something, Cooper. I didn’t want you coming back until you found it.” She tells me.
The thing I had been searching for is standing before me. I can’t imagine the courage it took for her to risk the censure of the townsfolk. She could have gone to some other town or city where no one knew her and told them she was a widow. “Why did you stay?”
“Because this is my home.” She simply says.
She wanders over to the next post and I follow, going through the same motions as before with the wire.
“Did you meet anyone while you were away?” she asks.
“Met a lot of people.” I say truthfully.
She pretends to conk me on the head with the hammer. “Anyone special. A she-wolf.”
“Nope.” I shake my head.
She seems to take great interest in ensuring the next nail is positioned perfectly. “That she-wolf you loved, the one Maggie told me about, do you know if she’s still in town?”
“She is.” I admit.
At that, her eyes come up to mine. “Did you write to her while you were away?”
“I should have but I didn’t.” I say, hearing the tinge of regret in my voice.
“Is she married?” Faith asks.
I shake my head, “Nope.”
She gives me a saucy, challenging smile. “Maybe you will get up the courage to call on her.”
With that, she sashays off to the next post.
It had never been about courage. It had always been about believing I didn’t deserve her. And I hadn’t, but maybe not for the reasons I had assumed. Perhaps there had been a bit of fear in me, fear that my past would taint whatever we might have had together.
But when I consider the courage it took for her to remain in the area knowing people would judge her, my own concerns about being judged are insignificant.
The one thing I do know is that no one will ever love her as much as I do.
- Writer
