The broken boy - healed by innocence

Here to stay

*Cooper*

What the hell were I thinking to suggest this? I hear the bushes rustling and fight hard not to think about exactly what's causing that swishing of cloth hitting foliage. Instead, I contemplate how much work needs to be done and how I'm going to stay out on the range tomorrow, repairing fencing and moving cattle to areas with more grass and water, until I'm dog-tired, too bone-weary to even offer to escort Faith home.

I don't know how it's possible that my feelings for her have deepened, but they have. Watching her giving orders to the men and standing up to them has increased my respect and admiration for her.

I had fallen in love with a girl who captured my heart because of her sweetness, but she has grown into a she-wolf made of steel and spunk, yet still, the sweetness is there. I see it when she interacts with her daughter, notice it when she exhibits tenderness toward her parents. She is curious about the world but rooted to the land… the same land that speaks to something deep within my soul.

While traveling, I have worked a series of odd jobs, always felt untethered until I took the foreman's position in Wyoming, but still, something had been missing. And that something is here: Faith.

The splash of water yanks me out of my reveries. Setting the lantern on a nearby rock, I lay out the quilts so they will be waiting for us when we emerge from the water. After loosening a couple of buttons, I pull my shirt over my head. I remove my gun belt… I had put it on before leaving the house, never comfortable being without it… and set it carefully at the corner of one of the quilts. My boots soon join it.

I walk to the edge of the river, the water lapping at my toes. In one quick but smooth movement, I shuck my Levi's, toss them onto a nearby bush, and dive into the flowing stream. When I burst through to the surface, Faith is only a few feet away, treading water.

Most cowboys can't swim, but Chase made sure I learned how. When taking cattle across a river, a man never knows if an errant steer or a sudden gush of rushing water might knock him from his horse. Even though their inner wolf is often capable of saving them, panic can stop the change. Heading north, I had encountered riverbanks lined with crosses.

And of course, anything I could do, Faith was determined to match.

"I remember you were always wanting to come here for a swim," she says now.

"I never felt like I could get clean enough." I admit.

She looks at me, "You took baths nearly every day."

Every night before I went to bed, I would sink into a tub and scrub at my skin, trying to scrape away the feeling of others touching me, men I hadn’t wanted anywhere near me. "Lot of dirt gets lifted off the ground when you're working with cattle, and it's gotta go somewhere."

"I feel like that sometimes, like I will never get clean," she says, so quietly I almost don't hear her.

"You still use that fancy soap. I can smell it when you walk by me." I tell her.

She smiles, "Lavender. Milled soap from Paris. You used to hate it."

I love the fragrance on her but had complained about it because it had been safer not to let her know all the things about her that I liked. "I would end up smelling like petunias anytime you hugged me."

She laughs lightly. "Lavender and petunias are two different flowers, two different scents."

"Flowery. That’s all that matters. Men aren't supposed to smell like flowers." I mumble.

"They are not supposed to wear flowers on their hat, either, but Uncle Wade does." She points out.

A faded and frayed scrap of linen with flowers embroidered on it circled the crown of his Stetson, has for as long as I can remember. "I think Briony made it for him," I say.

"She did, except originally she sewed it so she could identify Pa at the train depot in Fort Worth. Sometimes I wonder how different things would be if he hadn’t broken his leg and sent Uncle Wade to fetch her." She sighs.

"Some way or other, I think it would have all ended the same." I tell her.

She tilts her head to the side. "Do you believe in destiny?"

I shrug. The river in this section isn’t that deep. If I touch my feet to the bottom, the water would swirl around me about mid-chest. "I don’t know. But if I had wandered into the general store five minutes earlier or later, my path might have never crossed with Ma’s and I wouldn’t be here now."

It had been the first time I had encountered Callista Moonshadow. Most people, including Faith, believed it had resulted in the Moonshadows eventually taking me. Few knew the true story of what had happened the night Ma lost her baby.

"Then I would have never met you," Faith says.

She would have… if something like destiny really existed. Maybe I would have been a cowboy who wandered onto the ranch and got hired. Although if Chase and Callista Moonshadow hadn’t taken me in, I would probably have died years ago or been such a bitter, angry man no one would have been able to stomach having me around. "Someone else would have come along to aggravate you."

As though tired of the conversation, she goes beneath the water, comes back up, flicks away a few strands of hair that had come loose from her braid, and begins swimming away from me.

I had wanted her to admit I don’t irritate her, that she enjoys having me about. I want to hear her laugh. I haven’t heard an honest belly laugh from her since I have returned. She is a mother, which brings responsibilities, has taken on the burden of running the ranch, which brought with it even more duties and obligations as well as accountability. The success of the ranch now rests on her shoulders. But she is in need of a little fun.

With long, sure strokes, I pursue her, easily catching up to her. I grab her waist, tugging her under.

The scream that rents the evening air sends chills racing up my spine. Her frantic kicking and punching have me immediately releasing my hold on her and darting back, away from her. But she continues to thrash about, yelling, “No! No! No!”

“Faith, it’s just me. It’s Cooper. I’m sorry, darling.” I hold out a hand imploringly. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

She goes still, quiet, but I can see her trembling, a wildness in her eyes as though she

Is fighting to get her bearings.

“I’m going to come hold you.” I say softly.

Her hand shoots up. “No. I’m sorry. I have to get out now. Please just stay there.”

I hear the quaking in her voice, the quick rush of her breaths. “I’m going to swim back to where I left my pants. I will fetch your clothes, too. Wrap yourself in both quilts.”

She gives a jerky nod and begins wading toward shore, while I head upriver, climb onto the bank, and draw my pants back on. Then I locate her clothes and hurry back to where I had spread the quilts. She is sitting on one of them, the other draped around her, the lantern brought in close to her.

“I’m sorry,” she says, watching as I near.

“Don’t apologize for something that wasn’t your fault.” I drop down beside her, grab the whiskey, open the bottle, and hold it toward her. “Take a swig of this. It will help warm you.” Even though the night is sultry, she seems chilled. “I’m going to build a fire.”

She shakes her head, “I don’t need a fire.”

“I do.” A few minutes later, I draw comfort from the crackling of the flames as they lick at the branches I had gathered, taking gratification from watching as she leans toward the fire she had claimed not to need. “Faith.”

“I just wasn’t expecting you to grab me is all. It took me by surprise.” She mumbles.

I shake my head, “It was more than that, Faith. We have tugged each other under the water a thousand times.”

“We were children then. It’s been years. I had just forgotten is all. It’s nothing. Let me have my clothes.” She says.

I hand the bundle to her, watching as she simply clutches it as though it's a shield of armor designed to protect her from all dangers. Only then do I notice she's moved my gun so it's resting beside her hip, within easy reach. She might as well have lifted it and fired a bullet into my chest. It would have hurt less than the knowledge she feels a need to defend herself against me. "You know I would never hurt you," I say quietly.

"I know." She mumbles.

So much is beginning to make sense. Her loss of interest in the possibility of oil that had once excited her. The burned beginnings of her dream. Her refusal to marry the man who had gotten her with child. "The same can't be said for Berringer, can it?"

Tears well in her eyes as she holds my gaze and shakes her head.

"Tell me," I say gently.

"I can't." The words sounds forced.

I understand too well the difficulty of talking about something so incredibly horrendous and personal. "Okay, but I gotta get you warm. Take another sip of the whiskey."

Slowly, gingerly, I move around behind her, kneel, and begin rubbing her arms through the quilt, creating friction and heat. She sighs, her muscles loosening as she begins to relax.

"There's a falling star," I say to distract her. "Make a wish."

"I wish I could forget." She mumbles.

My heart nearly shatters with the sadness of her tone. "I know. But you can't."

She shakes her head, then nods as though confused by what her response should be. Settling down onto my backside, I bring her back against my chest and close my arms around her.

"It's been so long since I have let anyone hold me," she says.

"If you don't want me to, I'll back away." I tell her.

She shakes her head lightly, "No, it's nice. I can feel your warmth even through the quilt. It's better than the fire."

"You were always more skilled at building fires than I was." I admit.

She gives a little snort of laughter, settles into silence. I wait, just wait, loathing myself for not being here when she had needed me.

"I liked him," she whispers in a raspy voice. "A lot. He charmed Ma and Pa. Charmed me. He was spending a lot of time at the house. Everyone figured eventually we would tie the knot, that soon he would ask Pa for my hand and his blessing. He had gotten permission to take me to dinner in town. In the hotel dining room. You know how fancy it is, how eating there makes people feel special. Two bottles of wine later we were heading home, and I was so relaxed, so happy. He drove us out to the drilling site. We walked around for a while, talking about dreams. Then we started kissing. We had kissed a few times before, but that night it was different. He wanted more, but I wasn't ready for that. But he wouldn't listen. He just took.”

I tighten my arms around her, wanting to take away the painful memory, then loosen them, so she doesn’t feel threatened. I search for words, but all the ones in my vocabulary seem far too insignificant to express how much I ache for her and what she’s suffered.

“He drove me home like nothing had happened, like he had done nothing wrong.” She mumbles.

“Did he go to prison?” I ask.

Her laugh is harsh, filled with pain and hurt. “I had no way to prove he forced himself on me. He was careful not to tear my clothes. Just shoved up my skirts. I had a few bruises where he held me down. Besides, they don’t send men to prison for rape.”

The harsh words, so small for an action so monstrous, kick me in the gut.

“They would have argued I had loose morals or found some other excuse,” she continues. “I often wear pants. How unladylike is that? To be honest, I would rather face a charging steer than a courtroom full of people judging me with censure written all over their faces as I was forced to tell them the details of what happened. Only Ma and Pa know. The family believes I was susceptible to his charms and he took advantage. Everyone else thinks I was just naughty.”

“But Berringer left.” I mumble.

She nods. “Pa made him. I don’t know exactly how. I didn’t want to know. I just wanted him gone, and Pa said he would take care of it.”

I figure Chase had beaten the man to within an inch of his life if he hadn’t outright killed him.

“I’m sorry, Faith, sorry for what happened, sorry I wasn’t here for you.” I tell her.

“You didn’t know what Cole would do any more than I did. Still, I feel such a fool because I did fall for him.” She sighs.

I shake my head, “You’re not a fool, Faith. Men like him are good at disguising what they are.”

She twists around slightly. “If he wanted me so badly…”

“It’s not about want or desire. It’s about control or dominance... or just downright meanness. Some people take pleasure in hurting others. I don’t know why, but I do know what he did wasn’t your fault.” As I speak the words, I'm struck with how accurately they apply to me as well. I hadn’t been to blame for what had happened to me all those years ago, any more than she was to blame for what had happened to her. Never before have I seen the truth of my circumstance so clearly.

Cradling her cheek, I hold her shadowed gaze, see the trail of tears glistening on her cheeks, gather them up with soft strokes of my thumb. “Every time I think you’re the strongest she-wolf I know, you prove to be stronger than I realized.”

“Knowing he touched me, I don’t know how you can.” She mumbles.

“Because he is nothing and you’re everything.” Taking my time, not wanting to spook her, I ease in until I can tenderly brush my lips over hers. She humbles me with her courage.

With a sigh, she sneaks her arms around my neck and parts her lips, and I take what she offers as gently as I know how, showing her with each restrained, slow stroke of my tongue, every caress along the length of her back, how precious she is to me. When she shudders against me, I trail my mouth along the creamy column of her throat, offering solace as she drops her head back, giving me easier access. I follow a lazy path to the shell of her ear, outline it with the tip of my tongue, feel the shiver course through her.

“Better than my birthday,” she whispers.

Easing away, I hold her gaze. “I want to offer you more, Faith, but I don’t know if you’re ready for it.”

She shakes her head. “But I’m getting there.”

Straightening, she snuggles her back against my chest and I close my arms around her. We sit in silence for long minutes, listening to the gurgling of the river, the chirping of the crickets, the croaking of the frogs.

“Are you going to leave again, Cooper?” she finally asks.

“Not if you don’t want me to.” I promise.

She merely nods, and I know in my heart I'm there to stay.