Texas Mail Order Bride(5)

“How’s your mama?”

Ben shrugged, staring up at him. “Fine, I reckon. Just wonderin’ when I could come out to the ranch.”

“Anytime would suit me. Gonna start roundup next week, though, and I’ll be busier than a one-armed blacksmith. Might be better to wait until after that.” Cooper fished in his vest pocket for a small sack of lemon drops he always carried. He took one out and handed the rest to the seven-year-old.

“Thanks, Mr. Cooper.”

“Your father behaving himself?”

Ben’s face darkened and he shrugged again. “Guess so.”

Cooper popped the lemon drop in his mouth. The boy’s answer fell short of being reassuring. Something was up. Hogue Barclay must be back in town. The man was as sorry as they come. Stuck around long enough to make misery for everyone, and then he was gone again. And to make matters worse, the man had a mean streak as wide as the floodwaters of the mighty Mississippi.

Cooper draped an arm around Ben’s scrawny shoulders. “Just remember what I told you. Anytime you or your mama needs me, I’ll be there.”

The boy had been a babe in his mother’s arms when Cooper rode into town with Rand and Brett. Right off, he’d recognized Jenny’s look of pure desperation and decided then and there to watch over them. He could count on one hand the number of people he truly cared about. But for those he did, it went bone deep. Jenny and Ben stood next to his brothers in that way.

Every time Jenny’s husband, Hogue Barclay, got a snoot full of liquor, he beat Jenny something fierce. Six months ago, Cooper had threatened Hogue with sure death if he ever did anything like that again. He might need to reinforce that threat soon.

“Ain’t gonna forget, Mr. Cooper.”

Ruffling the top of Ben’s head, Cooper turned toward his horse. “It was real nice seeing you. Watch out that you don’t get too snaggletoothed.”

“Bye, Mr. Cooper.”

He stuck a boot in the stirrup and slid into the saddle. Though the ranch lay in the opposite direction, he found himself heading to the mercantile. Dismounting in front of the establishment, he loosely wrapped the reins around the hitching post.

“Need to pick up a few things,” he told his horse as if he owed the animal an explanation.

What things, he hadn’t a clue, but he’d think of some.

Cooper sidled up next to the window and tried to peer inside. But seeing as how they could’ve added an extra street to the town with the dirt on the window, he couldn’t make out a blessed thing.

Damn. All he needed was for Miss Dandridge to see his face pressed against the glass like some three-year-old.

Taking a deep breath, he strode to the door and turned the knob. Delta swung around when he pushed it open and stepped inside. Her eyes narrowed to slits and she pursed her lips.

“What do you need, Coop?” John Abercrombie came from around the counter.

The question caught him off guard. He’d figured to walk around the store and hopefully hear what the two were discussing. No such luck.

He quickly scanned the shelves behind the counter. “Bullets. Four boxes.”

A man could never have too many bullets. But four boxes could start a war.

“You figuring on doing a lot of shootin’?”

“Never can tell on a ranch. Want to be prepared.”

Abercrombie gave a quick nod. “That all?”

“And…some chewing tobacco.” Of all the stupid things to say. Hell. He didn’t even use the stuff. Coming into the mercantile had been one of the dumbest ideas he’d had.

“I never knew you to use tobacco, Coop.”

“Getting it for one of my ranch hands.” He avoided meeting Delta’s gaze and paid for his purchases. Taking them, he got the hell out of there before he did anything else stupid.

Before he could unloop the reins from the hitching post, Delta Dandridge strode from the mercantile and marched right up to him.

“I do declare, Mr. Thorne,” she said in that sweet Southern drawl that flowed out smoother than warmed molasses. “Not that it’s a bit of your concern, but if you’re curious about what I’m doing, just ask me.”

“Lady, don’t flatter yourself. I went in there because I needed to and for no other reason.”

“Bullets and chewing tobacco? That was a pretty flimsy excuse.”

A hot flush crept up the back of his neck. “Around here, Miss Dandridge, we step pretty carefully over piles of manure or else we wind up facedown in them.”

Delta sucked in a quick breath. “Are you threatening me, Mr. Thorne?”

“Nope. Just stating facts, ma’am.” He mounted up and tipped his hat. “Have a pleasant trip back to Georgia, Miss Dandridge.”