at a barbecue.”
“Well, I’m not going to take back the invitation, if that’s what you’re thinking. You’re still invited. And warned.” She paused for a second before offering him a startling smile, completely out of place given the tension of their conversation just now. “I hope you’ll come.”
Cooper’s second thoughts Saturday morning did not meet with Sophie’s approval. His daughter looked as if he’d plunged a knife through her tiny little heart when he suggested declining the Bucktons’ barbecue invitation. “Of course I want to go to the party!” she whined, draping herself across the couch in pint-size devastation. If he put his foot down and begged off, he’d have a miserable night here, that was clear. “I wanna go,” she moaned, limbs stricken akimbo in flailing disappointment. “I hafta go.”
Cooper began picking up the pieces of the game they had been playing. “You don’t hafta go anywhere. And it’s not a party. It’s just a supper.” A supper he doubted would be much fun for him, at least, even if it meant seeing Tess Buckton again. Then again, Sophie would meet Audie, and that was worth enduring the “grilling” Tess had said was coming, wasn’t it?
“It’s a barbecue. A bison barbecue. I’ve never been to one before.” One hand lay across her forehead in such a drama-queen pose Cooper wondered what movies she’d been watching. “And now I’ll never go.”
He tried to swallow his reluctance as he slid the lid onto the game box. “I know you like Miss Tess and all...”
“I love Miss Tess. I wanna meet the little girl at her ranch. She’d said we’d like each other.” Sophie didn’t have to actually say “and now you’re taking it all away” because her eyes screamed it at him. “Why’d you hafta fight with her?”
“We didn’t fight.”
Sophie sat up and crossed her arms over her chest. “She didn’t seem very happy when she came in the kitchen to say goodbye.”
“We had a discussion. Maybe a difference of opinion, but not a fight. That’s different.” He pointed at Sophie. “Just like you and I are having a difference of opinion right now.”
Sophie’s chin practically sank itself into her chest. “No, we’re fighting. Miss Tess invited us to a party and you’re saying we’re not going. Did she take her invitation back?”
Cooper made it a point never to lie to Sophie, which made her ability to ask just the wrong question all the more exasperating. Tess had, in fact, reiterated her invitation despite their tense discussion. “No, she didn’t, but it still won’t be any fun if we go.”
“It’d be fun for me,” Sophie said softly. Her tone pinched his heart hard. What father wants to disappoint his daughter? She was right, though—it probably would be fun for her, even if it might end up torture for him.
She looked up at him with her “sad puppy eyes,” her ultimate weapon against his willpower. Life had denied Sophie so much—a normal body, a mother to grow up with, family to surround her—he hated to be the one to deny her anything else.
“You really want to go?”
Clearly sensing he was weakening, she upped her game. In one move, she flung herself from the couch onto his lap. “More than anything. Pleeeeaaaasssseee can we?”
He knew that tone. The stubborn streak that got Sophie through the aftermath of her accident had a dark side, and he’d just landed in the middle of it. He’d hear that whiny request nonstop until he relented. Still, on things that really mattered, he could dig his heels in and be just as stubborn as Sophie.
But did this really matter? Could he tiptoe his way through a night of relentless Buckton questions if it meant Sophie could make friends with another girl near her age? It couldn’t get that bad—no one would want to launch an argument in front of the kids. If he showed up a bit late and only stayed until Sophie’s bedtime, surely he could stand it. I’ve been stepped on, bitten, thrown, knocked over and kicked by the worst horses on two continents, he reasoned. How bad could half a dozen Bucktons be?
“Okay, we’ll go. Now go and see if Glenno’s ready for you to help set the table.” Glenno had rigged a special backward sort of backpack that allowed Sophie to carry plates and silverware to the table one at a time. It took much longer, but Cooper liked that Glenno was always quick to adapt the standard child chores to Sophie’s abilities. Besides, the fifteen minutes it took Sophie to set three place settings was a bit of peace and quiet he sorely needed at the end of some days.
That peace and quiet was broken by rings from the telephone. Hunter’s tone as he said, “G’day, mate,” told him his unreturned phone call from earlier in the week hadn’t gone unnoticed. “I know you’re supposed to be on holiday, but have you got a minute for some good news?”
Cooper leaned back on the leather sofa. “Sure.”
“The blokes in legal did a good job. We’ve got a signed statement from Lynette Highland. No more worries in that department. If she shows up anywhere near you, we have immediate grounds for a restraining order.”
Cooper sighed. While he didn’t want to talk about his future plans, he wanted to discuss this issue even less. “I’m glad to have that whole thing over with.”
“You and me both, mate. What a circus that was.”
Lynette was a production assistant—a very good, very pretty, production assistant—who had worked on the show. Three months ago she’d taken the very small inch of attention Cooper paid her and tried to run ten miles with it.
Making sure that Cooper had everything he needed was part of her job, and he’d barely noticed at first when she’d dialed up her attentions, constantly checking in with him and flirting all the while. When he had noticed, he’d been flattered and had allowed himself to cautiously flirt back, thinking a little dating might be nice. It had been the first time since Grace that a woman had even halfway appealed to him. Even Hunter had approved of Lynette as Cooper’s “first wade back into the dating pool.” They’d both been stunningly wrong—a Pine Brothers’ first, to be sure.
The first date had been pleasant enough, but afterward her attentions toward him went from flattering to obsessive. Soon it had turned into a nightmare of phone calls, notes, far too intimate emails, even trying to show up at a hotel where he was staying on tour. He’d talked with Lynette. Hunter had sat with her. Even the producer very bluntly telling her she was endangering her job didn’t seem to make a dent in her determination to win him over by every means available—without seeming to realize that all she was doing was frightening him away.
Lynette believed she had “found her meal ticket”—as Hunter began to put it—and didn’t seem to think her job needed to matter much anymore. By the end, legal had had to step in and talk about a court order. The great blessing in it all was that sheer logistics—or God’s mercy, as Cooper saw it—had kept Lynette from ever meeting Sophie. The whole business was the tipping point for Cooper’s decision to leave the Pine Method.
“So now we can get on with the new season without having any of that drama getting in the way. I gave the legal guys a ‘good-on-ya’ bonus for handling it quiet-like. That’s not the kind of press any of us needs.”
The new season is already being planned? You can’t wait forever, mate, you’ll have to tell him soon. But “soon” doesn’t have to mean “now.”
“No new season talk for a bloke on holiday. I’m glad for this news, but the rest can wait.” He ignored the pang of guilt he felt for changing the subject. “What’s this big surprise that’s taking you so long to ship Sophie for her birthday?”
“Should be there soon. She’s gonna love it.”
Hunter had a flair for grand gestures that often defied common