wondered if they would ever be used as such.
If his sisters wanted a party, maybe he could talk them into coming back over Christmas. Then there would be an excuse for one and it wouldn’t look like he was the door prize at the box supper.
Cooper glanced down at a guest list on his desk that Johanna and Emma had already started. Beside each name he could think of at least one reason why he wouldn’t want the unmarried daughter or sister as a wife. Men out here outnumbered women several times over and all that was left in most families were the illtempered and homely.
Wilson, the rancher south of Cooper, had two daughters of the right age, one with a full mustache, the other with beaver teeth big enough to down a tree within the hour. Smith, a farmer to Cooper’s north, had a sister who never missed a chance to visit. The good thing about marrying her might be that her tongue was so sharp she would make any man forget it was cold outside. Her husband would work himself to death to keep from coming home every night. Then there was Miller’s…
Cooper heard a sound and glanced up from the list. “Winnie?” he asked as his sister hurried toward the kitchen with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders.
She stopped as if she’d been caught while on a secret mission. “I…I was just getting your sewing kit,” she said without looking at him. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
“That’s all right,” he said, watching her continue the journey.
A moment later, she reappeared, the cigar box he used as both a sewing and medicine kit in hand. “Cooper Boy,” she whispered, as if she feared her sisters might hear her, “could you hitch the buggy for me ?rst thing after breakfast? I could walk to town, but it’ll be muddy. I seem to have forgotten a few things and need to make a quick trip.”
“Do you want me to drive you?” Winnie wasn’t known for turning the right direction and four miles was no short stroll. He would rather take the time to drive her than worry about her until she found her way home. “I need to pick up some lumber in the morning. If you don’t mind riding in the work wagon, we could start early.”
Winnie smiled. “Oh, no, I don’t mind, but just tell the sisters I’m riding along with you. Don’t mention my forgetting anything.”
Cooper almost felt sorry for Winnie. It must be hard to live all your life with one perfect sister and one who reminded you of all your shortcomings. “You got a deal.” He winked at her. “I’ll drop you at Debord’s General Store, load the lumber, then pick you up. We’ll be back before they think to miss us.”
“Deal.” Winnie almost danced as she hurried away. “Good night. I have to go to bed now. I’m really quite tired.” Her blanket blew behind her in full sail.
Cooper mumbled good night and began the paperwork he’d been putting off for a week. An hour later, when he lowered the wick on the lamp, he noticed the light under Winnie’s door still shone.
Even so, just after breakfast she was all ready, dressed in her same purple traveling suit, when he pulled the wagon around.
“Certain you want to go?” he whispered. “We’re sure to get caught in the rain today. Those clouds have been promising all week and so far all we manage to get are a few sprinkles.”
Winnie giggled. “A little rain won’t hurt me. Maybe I’ll get lucky and shrink.”
Neither Johanna nor Emma paid more than passing interest as Winnie climbed up beside Cooper and announced loudly that she was going along for the ride. Winnie was always the extra in the ?rst few days after the sisters invaded Cooper’s house. She was never given an assignment in the cleaning that had to be done before Johanna could relax. Winnie had always been the extra who was called to do one task after another while the two generals organized.
But today, Cooper had the funniest feeling Winnie wasn’t running from work, but escaping on some grand adventure. She talked of how pretty the day seemed even though thunderclouds looked like a mountain range to the west. And she laughed at nothing as if she were in her teens and not a woman of almost forty.
He let Winnie out at the general store and picked up the wood he needed. Cooper took the opportunity to stop in for one drink, hoping to give Winnie plenty of time to visit. To his surprise, when he returned to the general store, Mrs. Debord and her husband said they had not seen her.
Frustrated, Cooper walked out of Debord’s General. He didn’t have time to waste looking for Winnie. His sisters always visited with the Debords like they were old friends when they came to Minnow Springs. And in truth he usually enjoyed listening to the town gossip on the ride home. Why would Winnie say she needed things, then not even bother going inside the store? If he didn’t know better, he would think she had a secret lover somewhere.
Cooper caught himself laughing out loud. Wouldn’t that be a kick to ?nd out Winnie had a lover? If ever there was a woman born to be the maiden aunt, Winnie ?t the bill. Everyone loved her for her sweet, confusing ways, but no man seemed likely to give her his name.
Cooper gazed along what little there was of the street everyone called Main. Two saloons, a hotel, a carpenter/undertaker shop, the stage and livery station, the telegraph of?ce, and Woodburn’s dilapidated mercantile. Winnie would never go in one of the saloons. The hotel was not much better. She had no reason to see the undertaker; although sometimes Cooper felt his sisters’ schemes might be the death of him, they all three appeared to be in good health.
That left Woodburn’s Mercantile or the stage line. He headed toward the tiny store, guessing Winnie would have no business with the stage line. Johanna always booked all reservations and carried the tickets for all three sisters when they traveled.
Few locals went into Woodburn’s Mercantile. It was small and offered little choice compared to Debord’s General. The front door was so plain anyone might miss it stuffed in between the hotel and the undertaker. Cooper noticed the wind had blown off the last three letters of his sign, making the business look even less prosperous.
Miles Woodburn was a Yankee who’d settled here after the war. Most of his business came from the cattle drives and settlers passing through. He took trade for foodstuffs so folks down on their luck usually found his door.
Winnie must have forgotten about Woodburn being from the North. Like most folks in the South, Cooper tried to put the hatred behind him, but it wasn’t always easy. Woodburn’s limp reminded Cooper, even before his clip northern accent greeted him, that a half dozen years ago they might have faced one another across a battle?eld. Cooper’s bullet could be the reason Woodburn limped or had a thin scar across his left cheek. Woodburn, and a thousand like him, were the reason Cooper walked the ?oor most nights, afraid to sleep. Afraid he would dream.
Cooper hurried across the street trying to forget memories that haunted him. He had been in Woodburn’s place a few times when Debord was out of something he needed. Most of the merchandise was dusty on the shelf. Poor Winnie would never ?nd what she was looking for in a place like that.
As he stepped onto the planked porch, he thought he saw Woodburn unloading a wagon at the side entrance, but Cooper pretended not to notice the man. They would nod at one another, but they weren’t the “pass the time of day” kind of acquaintances.
When Cooper pushed the door open, he heard Winnie’s musical giggle. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the store’s shadowy light. Clothing hung from the rafters like ?oating ghosts and the smell of spices thickened the molasses air.
Winnie leaned over the counter helping a slender woman wrap purchases into one square of brown paper. She giggled again as items slipped from her grip.
“Maybe we should put it in two bundles.” Winnie laughed.
“Maybe.” The young woman answered without a hint of southern accent in her voice. “Or you can hold it closed and just bind everything else up with your hands.”
Winnie ?nally noticed Cooper moving toward her. “Oh, Cooper. I’m sorry I’m late. You see, Mary and I were just wrapping the few things I bought.”
Cooper met the young woman’s stare. She was as plain as her name with bluegray eyes. Stormy day eyes, he thought, deciding she must be Woodburn’s sister. He’d heard folks talk about her, said she was a real bookworm, reading, instead of dusting, when the store wasn’t busy.
“Morning, miss.” Cooper removed his hat. There was no reason not to be polite, no matter whose sister she was. To be honest, he must have seen her before. The town was too little to miss anyone for long. But he couldn’t
