It's In His Heart (A Red River Valley Novel) Read Free

ages, shapes, and cup sizes within seconds. Too bad he felt it necessary to be such a prick to her.
    Speaking of . . .
    Her eyes went to the package just below his waist. He really did fill out those boxer briefs nicely. In fact, he could easily be a model for men’s underwear. Move over, David Beckham. Long, powerful legs stretched out beside her, his upper arms bulging while he held the wet rag to his eyes, that caramel mane was tousled just enough to look sexy as—
    “See something you like?”
    She jumped, and her eyes flew to his. With the rag lifted a fraction he stared back at her. Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap. “Uh, no!” C, R, A, P in capital letters. “I just wanted to see if you were hurt, uh, anywhere else.” She bit her lip.
    Oh, God. What would Bradley think? Yes, his dying wish had been for her to move on. Find someone else and marry again. He knew how much she wanted kids. But, ogling Cooper Wells? Her gaze fell to the ground in shame.
    He dropped the cloth back onto his eyes. “What are you doing here, Ella? Don’t you have history students to teach or whatever?”
    “It’s summer, and I quit my teaching job three years ago.” Her words clipped out at a sharp pace. “To take care of Bradley, remember?”
    He swallowed, his mouth thinning into a hard line just below the rag.
    Really? He didn’t remember that? Unbelievable, even for a self-absorbed . . .
    Coop lifted the cloth again. His puffy red lids caused her conscience to rear its foul head. Guilt threaded through her.
    “Didn’t you get my message?” she asked, trying to sound contrite.
    Chicken that she was, she had called his home phone before leaving Albuquerque when she knew he’d be at work. After the long and detailed message she’d left—which had been cut off, forcing her to call back twice to finish it—she felt certain he would stay away and give her the peace and quiet she so desperately needed to close this chapter of her life. So, why was he asking her for an explanation? As far as she was concerned, he had some explaining to do.
    “What message?” His voice dripped with suspicion, and his posture tensed.
    Well. Obviously, he hadn’t gotten her message that could easily qualify as a dissertation for a doctorate degree. A knot started to form just below her breastbone.
    A hefty bark sounded from the porch.
    “Oh, God. I forgot Winston.” Ella ran for the front door, which still stood ajar.
    Leading her muddy canine inside, she gave the knotty pine door a shove, and it thudded shut. She frowned at the dirty paw tracks left in Winston’s wake, but couldn’t deal with that mess right now. Not when she had a much bigger problem staring right at her, by the name of Cooper Wells.
    “You remember Winston, right?” Ella asked. Coop’s brow furrowed. “No? Oh, I keep forgetting you were too busy to visit Bradley much.” A muscle in his jaw flexed. So there, Mr. Hotshot. Your power shift failed. “I got Winston for Bradley when he was sick. He always wanted an English bulldog. I tied Winston up outside to wash the mud off, but I guess it doesn’t matter.”
    Ella looked around the messy cabin. Okay, cleanliness obviously wasn’t one of Coop’s virtues, not that she thought he had any virtues to begin with. “Looks like the floor hasn’t been cleaned in . . . well, ever.”
    Winston growled and yanked out of her grasp. “Hey!” Ella yelled, but Winston bounded toward a trembling mound of fur in the corner of the room.
    A muffled groan sounded from Coop’s direction. “That would be my dog, Atlas.”
    “Atlas.” Ella smiled, remembering the first time she’d met Bradley. After hiking the La Luz trail her first year in Albuquerque, she’d limped into his office as a new patient. Pointing to her X-rays, he’d explained the misalignment of her s pine, starting with the top vertebra—the atlas. “Only a chiropractor would come up with a name like that.” She shrugged thoughtfully. “Or an English Lit