Anything You Ask (2 page)

By then her boys would be hungry enough to eat anything, even a vegetable. Too bad she couldn’t afford much else to put on their plates.

A winged blur passed as a barn swallow dove to snatch an insect buzzing in the bronze dust kicked up by the tiller. There was a time when these glimpses of nature fed her soul. Now she squinted warily at the wildlife, mindful the birds would eat the seed, the groundhogs would devour the vegetables, and the fox would gobble up the chickens she relied upon to feed her boys. Lately, she was at odds with everything that touched this four-hundred acre farm.

As Danielle walked across the big back yard toward the house, she glanced at Hale’s gleaming blue pickup truck parked in the driveway. He was her last hope. If he could figure out a way to make this place pay for itself, she’d be able to run away from home and never return.

****

For the entire hour spent tilling the garden, Hale mused that Danielle had grown even prettier since he’d left. He hadn’t forgotten those spectacular green eyes, but nothing could’ve prepared him for how they sparkled with keen relief the instant she recognized him. When she sprinted toward him and jumped into his arms, he almost fell to his knees in gratitude. After all this time, his family hadn’t convinced her of his guilt.

Hale didn’t know what was worse—leaving the farm, learning she married Mark, or coming face to face with the horrifying reality his brother allowed this place to fall apart.

Everywhere he looked, something was wrong. The noonday sun poured across empty fields that should’ve been planted by now. Rusty, neglected aerators, rakes, and disc harrows stuck out like skeletons from tangles of thorny weeds fringing the gravel drive leading to the red barn.

Dreading what he’d find inside, he walked into the vaulted interior and muttered a heartfelt curse. The tractor’s hood had a number of rust spots, a sure sign his brother hadn’t broken the bad habit of letting their equipment sit in the rain. The large grain truck had a flat, not to mention a large puddle of oil dripping from the engine. Debris littered the hard concrete floor. A stunning amount of junk cluttered the adjoining workshop.

“No wonder nothing is fixed around here. There’s no way to find a wrench under all this garbage.” Hale peered inside a loose-hinged cabinet. A shock of grief plowed through him when rows of empty whiskey bottles winked in the diffuse sunlight. Had his brother succumbed to the same demon that plagued their father?

Cocoa nudged his thigh, telling him he’d missed something. He turned in time to see a familiar-looking man enter the barn. His cousin.

Like most Cooper men, Jeff was tall with brown hair dark as loamy soil. Hale closed the cabinet and stood, subtly rolling his right shoulder to loosen the tension gathering in his upper back. Being the prodigal son was damned stressful.

Jeff saw him and sneered. “What’re you doing here?”

The welcome was classic, ripe with resentment. Hale should’ve been used to the sentiment. Then again, he’d gone years without seeing the silent accusation in a family member’s expression. His pride stung to face it again. “Danielle asked for my help.”

Just saying the words eased some of the barbed tension coiled deep in his gut.

Jeff paused at the workshop’s doorway and frowned at Hale’s hearing aid. “She asked
you
for help? I already offered to take care of her. She’s in good hands with me.”

Hale glared at the refuse littering the floor and wondered if treating their barn like a dump was his cousin’s idea of taking care of family.

Little good starting a fight would do, especially with someone who’d jump at the chance to bait him. Seeking a way to control his temper, he shaped his palm along the reassuring warmth of Cocoa’s solid body. “You don’t have to yell, Jeff. I can hear you fine.”

“You can?”

“The new hearing aid works pretty good.” He straightened and pointed to his left ear. “Technology has come a long way since I started losing my hearing.”

“Oh.” Jeff took off his baseball cap and scratched his head. “I wanted to talk to Danielle. Is she home?”

“No. I saw her drive out an hour ago.”

“Probably went to the University. She has office hours on Mondays.” Jeff leaned against a workbench and gestured out the window. “She and Mark picked a nice spot to build their home, huh? Right on the hill overlooking the south side of the farm.”

Hale glanced at the white clapboard house that hadn’t been there when he left. Danielle’s home was the only thing in good shape around here. No doubt because she took care of it. Everything in Mark’s domain looked so neglected even the mice fled in disgust.

Jeff waved a persistent fly out of his face. “I used to buy corn and hay from Mark. He sold me everything cheap. We had an arrangement.”

Something about that last word caught Hale’s attention. Selling anything below market value didn’t make sense. Why would Mark sell his grain at a price that wouldn’t make a profit? Then again, Jeff was like a brother to Mark. Hale lost count of the times the two of them ganged up at his expense.

Given their friendship, perhaps Mark sacrificed some profit to help Jeff. Unfortunately, the money hadn’t been recouped another way. The barn looked near collapse. The only thing holding up the roof were the spider webs laced between the beams.

“You might have to find someplace else to buy feed,” Hale acknowledged. “I don’t know what Danielle plans to do with the farm.”

“That must hurt, knowing your brother shut you out of his will.” A malevolent grin twisted Jeff’s mouth. “All this land belongs to a literature professor who doesn’t know the first thing about farming.”

An image of Danielle struggling with the tiller sprang into Hale’s mind. The awkward way she’d tried to start the engine filled him with empathy. Even though she might not know the first thing about cultivation, she wasn’t short on determination.

He looked at the fields that permeated his dreams and a surge of bittersweet longing pinched his chest. “I trust her instincts. She’ll take good care of this place.”

“Unlike your brother.” Jeff kicked an empty box of nails out of the way. “Did you see the hole in the ceiling?”

“What hole?”

Jeff motioned for Hale to follow him into the cavernous interior of the barn. When they reached the far end of the structure, Jeff pointed to a gash in the floor above. “That’s where your brother fell.”

A sharp pain sliced through Hale’s stomach when he looked up at the rotten planks that gave way to send his brother hurtling to the hard concrete below. Not trusting himself to speak, he stared at the floor in mute anguish.

“He survived the fall, but he had a massive coronary on the way to the hospital. Danielle told you, right?”

“Yes. She sent me a text.” He touched his back pocket to make sure his cell phone was still there. For too long, those text messages from Danielle were his only connection to home.

“She sent you a text? That’s cold. Why didn’t she call you?”

“Reading a text is easier than hearing someone over the phone.”

“Oh, right.” Jeff’s narrowed gaze dropped to the dry straw scattered near his boot. “You still smoke?”

A rash of anger prickled across Hale’s skin. “No.”

Jeff’s brow rose. “You ought to tell Danielle. She’ll be happy to hear a Cooper can quit an addiction.”

Hale gritted his teeth. “What’s your addiction?”

“Women.” A tight smile touched Jeff’s mouth. “But at least I’m not hung up on one, like you. Don’t make the mistake of thinking Danielle might keep you around. She’s a professor now. A girl like her belongs on campus, not a farm. As far as I can tell, she can’t wait to get off this piece of dirt. Even though she didn’t accuse you of setting the blaze, that doesn’t mean she thinks you’re innocent.”

“Good to be around family again,” Hale muttered, stunned at Jeff’s unprovoked attack. Then again, Coopers made a point of remembering each other’s vulnerabilities. What better way to keep the wolves at bay?

“Speaking of family, thank your brother for making sure Danielle never wants to get involved with either of us.” Jeff slapped on his baseball cap as he headed out of the barn. “You know what it’s like living under the same roof with a Cooper. Imagine being married to one.”

Hale jerked, wishing his sleek, new hearing aid hadn’t picked up every single syllable of Jeff’s departing taunt. Truer words were never spoken. After Mark failed her so abysmally, Danielle had good reason not to trust anyone else

especially a Cooper. The hollow fear in her eyes convinced him his family had picked her apart until all she had left was the brittle conviction to get by on her own.

He could relate.

Leaving this place was the only way he could have healed. He found peace when he drove all the way to the windswept fields of grass in Oklahoma and took a job on a ranch, tending cattle.

He couldn’t blame Danielle for needing to start over, too. Still, he didn’t want her to go. Now that he was strong enough to claim the farm, Hale wondered what it would take to win the woman who lived there, too.

Chapter Two

Danielle rubbed the band of tension along the back of her neck. She told the boys their uncle would join them for dinner, but there was no sign of him. The clock read five minutes after six o’clock, the boys were hungry, and she had no idea who was going to melt down first

her twins or herself. If Hale was like Mark, he might not show up for another hour.

She drained the spaghetti and put some onto her sons’ plates. If she didn’t get some food into them, their squabbling might spark the next world war.

As she ladled the meatballs over the pasta, the kitchen went dead silent. She looked past the oak cabinets separating the kitchen from the eating area and saw Hale standing near the table.

“Is that your dog?” Luke asked, his small voice full of wonder as he eyed the big chocolate lab.

“Yes. Her name is Cocoa.”

“Mom won’t let us have a dog. She’s scared of them ever since she got bit by Jeff’s dog.” Drew met Danielle’s gaze. “Do you want me to put Cocoa outside?”

Gratitude gushed through Danielle at Drew’s concern, but her sweet boy had no idea his uncle needed that dog. “Cocoa can stay. She’s very well behaved.”

Hale’s unwavering gaze met hers. “My dog won’t hurt you.”

The solemn vow in his sky blue eyes made her insides clench with surprise. She’d gotten so used to hearing empty promises mumbled by her husband, she didn’t know how to react when Hale held her gaze with steadfast confidence and assured her safety.

She acknowledged his statement with a wan smile, not sure she believed him.

“Boys, this is Uncle Hale. He is your father’s brother, but you haven’t met him until now because he lives far away. He came to help me figure out what to do with the farm. Would you please introduce yourselves while I finish serving supper?”

Mark had always teased her for speaking to the boys so properly, but her calm way of explaining things had a wonderful side effect. Her boys were well spoken and polite, as evidenced by her firstborn, who stood by the kitchen table as he made introductions.

“I’m Andrew Drake Cooper, but everybody calls me Drew. This is my brother, Lucas Hale Cooper, but call him Luke. We’re five years old and we’re twins. You can tell us apart by our hair.” He tugged on a gold curl above his ear. “I have light hair, like Mom. Luke has dark hair, like Dad.”

“Hullo.” Hale’s brow furrowed as he studied his namesake. When he sat, he cast a searching look in Danielle’s direction.

Ignoring the question in his gaze, she brought the plates of spaghetti to the table and settled across from Hale. “Drew, would you say the blessing?”

“Lord, thank you for bringing Uncle Hale to help us. And I pray Cocoa will let us pet her tonight. Amen.”

“You’ll have to ask permission to pet Cocoa,” Danielle informed Drew. “She’s a working dog.”

He scrunched his nose. “You mean she gets paid to be a dog?”

“Kind of. She has very good ears, so in exchange for food and a soft place to sleep, she helps me hear.” Hale pointed to his right ear. “I’m deaf in this ear, but I’ve got some hearing in my left ear when I wear a hearing aid. Cocoa pays attention to the things I miss. She’ll nudge me if I don’t hear something. You might have to nudge me, too. At times, I won’t know you’re talking to me if I can’t see your lips move.”

“How did you get deaf?” Luke twined spaghetti around his fork. “Did you catch it?”

“I have a condition that affects my hearing. I inherited it from my father.”

Luke’s expression crumpled. “Are we going to get deaf, too?”

“No.” Hale’s voice lowered to a reassuring murmur. “Your dad didn’t have the gene, so you’re safe.”

“Oh.” Luke slurped up a strand of pasta and stared in wide-eyed wonder at Hale’s hearing aid. “That thing on your ear makes you look half man, half machine. Like the Machine Man.”

“I shouldn’t have let you watch that cartoon last Saturday,” Danielle murmured, amused by the hero worship in her son’s avid gaze.

“How come you never visited us?” Drew reached for a roll.

Hale paused for a moment before offering an explanation. “My father got angry at me a few years ago. He told me to leave and not come back. I didn’t feel right returning until I was asked.”