The broken boy - healed by innocence

Potential for happiness

*Cooper*

“Faith give you that black eye?”

I expected some comment about my bruised cheek but thought it would come from Maggie, not her father.

Wade gives me a knowing smirk, or at least his mouth sets in a way that strongly resembles a smirk. Half his face is scarred from ‘some goddessforsaken battlefield’ when he was younger, and the thick tissue rivers keep that portion of his face immobile, making it sometimes difficult to interpret his smiles.

But there's no difficulty whatsoever in reading Blaise's broad grin. The man is downright and irritatingly amused.

"I might have accidentally run into her fist when I got off the train," I admit.

Blaise chuckles. "I heard tell she was fit to be tied when you hightailed it out of here without discussing the matter with her first."

"I had my reasons for leaving as I did." I mumble.

"Whatever they were, we hope they're behind you now," Wade says. "We're glad to have you home." He is the peacemaker of the family, a quiet man of few words, but when he speaks, people tend to listen.

Taking a sip of whiskey, I glance around. Wade's mate and four daughters are there, as are Blaise's mate, Lillian, and their five sons. Dee has been fed and put to bed already. Faith is still getting dressed.

After working on the fence, we returned to the house to get ready. When I sank into the tub of hot water, I imagined her doing the same thing in the room next to mine, thinking of the soapy linen caressing her skin, the water droplets raining down on her.

Repairing the fence together, talking, has helped to reestablish the bond between us, and I'm not altogether certain that's a good thing, because now Faith Moonshadow is a she-wolf to be reckoned with. Maturity has added to her allure, and I'm not certain I have it within me to resist her this time, not sure I want to any longer.

A she-wolf of her courage is the sort any man would welcome at his side. Now that she is older, the years separating us don't seem as big a gap. I'm no longer a man and she a girl. We're both adults.

"Dee shared those postcards you sent her," Wade says. "You did a lot of traveling."

"For a while. I was trying to figure out where to settle." I admit.

He nods, "And in the end, you came back here. Just like Blaise. He traveled the world playing his violin for folks, but when it came right down to it, he didn't find anyplace he liked better."

"Not quite true," Blaise says. "I didn't find any people I like better. There's something comforting about being in the bosom of your family." He looks around, motions with his hand. "And I wanted my sons to grow up with this. You, Chase, and I we only had each other. Now look at us."

The room is filled with conversation, laughter, hugs, and smiles.

"What are y'all jawing about?" Chase asks as he joins us.

"Family," Blaise says. "And Cooper was about to tell us about cowboying in Wyoming."

"Cowboying is cowboying," I say.

"Everything went alright out on the range today?" Chase asks.

"Yep." I grin at the man who raised me. "Although Faith told me if you asked, that was supposed to be my answer no matter what trouble we ran into."

"Did we run into trouble?" His voice holds worry and concern, and I figure it's difficult for him to let go of something when he had spent the better part of his life building it.

I shake my head, "Everything was fine. A bit of fence needed repairing, but nothing we couldn't handle."

"It drives me crazy to sit here all day not knowing exactly what's going on," he grumbles.

"It drives you crazy that you can't beat Dee at checkers," Faith says, slipping her arm through her father's.

She isn't wearing the red dress, thank the Goddess. The pink froth tucked in at her waist, and the bodice isn't cut low enough to reveal much of anything. Her shoulders aren't bare, but the sleeves are so small I wonder why the seamstress bothered. Decked out as she is, she reminds me of a spun sugar concoction known as fairy floss that I tasted at the World's Fair in St. Louis. It melted in my mouth, and I wonder if I could make her melt. I am certainly tempted to try.

"That little darling beat me five times," Chase mutters.

Faith laughs. "She told me." She holds out her hand, fingers splayed. "Five times!"

So she had been delayed because she had spent some time visiting with her daughter. She is a good mother, and I reckon she would give the same love and attention to all her children.

Not that I'm surprised. She excels at anything she tries, which makes her decision to give up on the oil a bit confounding. I would have bet money she would have ensured it was a success simply to spite Berringer.

"Uncle Wade," she says, giving him a peck on the cheek. Then she releases her hold on Chase and moves around him to give Blaise a kiss. "Uncle Blaise."

"Doesn't Cooper get a kiss?" Blaise asks, and her gaze slams into mine. "It might ease the hurt of that bruise you gave him."

I'm torn between laughing loudly, brushing it all off as a joke, and stepping nearer so she wouldn't have far to travel and could get to me sooner.

Her eyes never leaving mine, she says, "I reckon since tonight is about welcoming me home, I ought to be a little forgiving and do it proper."

My heart is pounding so hard it's as though she is issuing an invitation to her bed. What should have taken seconds seems to take hours as she skirts around Blaise and leans in, a light-as-a-moonbeam brush of her lips glancing over my cheek.

As brief and feathery as it is, it somehow seems to have more power than the one we had shared outside my cabin. Maybe because this time she isn't drunk and I'm not thinking she is too young or innocent for one such as I.

When she leans back, she smiles, the type of smile one dear friend gives another when they are sharing something special. And in that smile, I see the potential for happiness.