Page 39
Story: One-of-a-Kind Bride
“You want to be that way about it,” he called to her, his footsteps just behind her.
She’d always been fast, and her morning jogs gave her the endurance she needed to pull off a win. She’d show Coop up and wipe the smug look off his face. He wasn’t going to best her.
Her hair flew in her face, blinding her for a second, and then she glanced sideways and there was Coop, running right next to her, a big, silly grin on his face, as if he was playing her, as if he could beat her by five lengths if he wanted to. The swing was mere yards away, her strides eating the ground. She was in high gear now, her heart beating, her legs burning as she pulled away from Coop, leaving him half a length behind.
She turned to see him slowing, his eyes on her, as he deliberately put on the brakes. She reached the swing first, grabbing the rope and twirling the swing around. Coop was a second behind her and as their eyes met, the truth dawned on her.
She pushed at his chest and inertia had him backing up a step. “You did let me win.”
“Always,” Coop admitted.
“Why?”
He gave her a you-must-be-kidding look. “Why?”
“Yeah, why?”
“I was crazy about you, Taylor.”
She kinda melted then, all her exasperation spent. She’d been crazy about him too. But neither of them had acted upon it until her last summer here. She sat her butt down on the swing and Coop took a place at the oak’s trunk, leaning back watching her swing back and forth.
“I have good memories of this place.”
“So do I,” he admitted.
“So why’d you leave?”
“Same reason you did. Only I went to college on the west coast. And after I met Francine, I decided to stay and try my hand at the business end of building. I worked at a large construction company and was on my way up. We were happy, Taye. We had a good life and after Cassie came along, I didn’t think my life could get any better. But then…”
She stopped swinging to stare at him.
He squinted, as if remembering painful memories. “Things don’t always work out the way you think…you know?”
She nodded. “I do know. I didn’t expect my mom to die so young. I never knew my heart could hurt so very much. And Dad hasn’t been the same since.”
Coop inhaled. “I’m sorry about your mom.”
“And I’m sorry about your wife. Truly, Coop.”
“I know you are. We could always talk, you and me.”
She smiled. “That’s true. And remember those promises we would always make to each other? I think the hardest one for me was when I promised you I’d learn how to ride a horse. In New York? I think I was about twelve and I drove my mom crazy until she finally took me to the country. I had a two-hour private lesson and, you know, I did learn. I can saddle up a horse if I had to and ride Western, single rein. But the truth is I never got the chance to ride a horse again.”
“Well, you’re in horse country now. You could always refresh your memory.”
“I don’t know,” she said, hesitating. “Maybe one day.” Her gifts were with a needle and thread, not in a saddle. “What was the hardest promise you made to me? Or don’t you remember?”
Coop looked away, and his expression seemed to sour. As if the subject made him uncomfortable.
He inhaled and focused back on her. “I remember, Taylor. Those promises meant a lot to you.”
“Wonder what ever happened to—”
“It was definitely when I promised you I’d grow a beard,” he rushed out. “I don’t know why I agreed to that. I was sixteen and I remember the guys at school giving me grief for the slim excuse of facial hair growing in peach patches on my face.” He gave his head a shake. “But damn if I didn’t do it anyway.”
“I remember. You sent me pictures. I think I still have them.”
“Burn them. Please.”
She’d always been fast, and her morning jogs gave her the endurance she needed to pull off a win. She’d show Coop up and wipe the smug look off his face. He wasn’t going to best her.
Her hair flew in her face, blinding her for a second, and then she glanced sideways and there was Coop, running right next to her, a big, silly grin on his face, as if he was playing her, as if he could beat her by five lengths if he wanted to. The swing was mere yards away, her strides eating the ground. She was in high gear now, her heart beating, her legs burning as she pulled away from Coop, leaving him half a length behind.
She turned to see him slowing, his eyes on her, as he deliberately put on the brakes. She reached the swing first, grabbing the rope and twirling the swing around. Coop was a second behind her and as their eyes met, the truth dawned on her.
She pushed at his chest and inertia had him backing up a step. “You did let me win.”
“Always,” Coop admitted.
“Why?”
He gave her a you-must-be-kidding look. “Why?”
“Yeah, why?”
“I was crazy about you, Taylor.”
She kinda melted then, all her exasperation spent. She’d been crazy about him too. But neither of them had acted upon it until her last summer here. She sat her butt down on the swing and Coop took a place at the oak’s trunk, leaning back watching her swing back and forth.
“I have good memories of this place.”
“So do I,” he admitted.
“So why’d you leave?”
“Same reason you did. Only I went to college on the west coast. And after I met Francine, I decided to stay and try my hand at the business end of building. I worked at a large construction company and was on my way up. We were happy, Taye. We had a good life and after Cassie came along, I didn’t think my life could get any better. But then…”
She stopped swinging to stare at him.
He squinted, as if remembering painful memories. “Things don’t always work out the way you think…you know?”
She nodded. “I do know. I didn’t expect my mom to die so young. I never knew my heart could hurt so very much. And Dad hasn’t been the same since.”
Coop inhaled. “I’m sorry about your mom.”
“And I’m sorry about your wife. Truly, Coop.”
“I know you are. We could always talk, you and me.”
She smiled. “That’s true. And remember those promises we would always make to each other? I think the hardest one for me was when I promised you I’d learn how to ride a horse. In New York? I think I was about twelve and I drove my mom crazy until she finally took me to the country. I had a two-hour private lesson and, you know, I did learn. I can saddle up a horse if I had to and ride Western, single rein. But the truth is I never got the chance to ride a horse again.”
“Well, you’re in horse country now. You could always refresh your memory.”
“I don’t know,” she said, hesitating. “Maybe one day.” Her gifts were with a needle and thread, not in a saddle. “What was the hardest promise you made to me? Or don’t you remember?”
Coop looked away, and his expression seemed to sour. As if the subject made him uncomfortable.
He inhaled and focused back on her. “I remember, Taylor. Those promises meant a lot to you.”
“Wonder what ever happened to—”
“It was definitely when I promised you I’d grow a beard,” he rushed out. “I don’t know why I agreed to that. I was sixteen and I remember the guys at school giving me grief for the slim excuse of facial hair growing in peach patches on my face.” He gave his head a shake. “But damn if I didn’t do it anyway.”
“I remember. You sent me pictures. I think I still have them.”
“Burn them. Please.”
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