Linda Warren - Skylar's Outlaw

Being angry didn’t help a thing. Coop knew that better than anyone. But when he was reminded of his past in surround sound and Technicolor, it was hard to remember.

Why did she have to come home?

With a sigh he headed to the kitchen sink, washed his hands, grabbed a fork out of a drawer and carried the plate to the table. He kept his mind blank. After years of practice, he had perfected that trait.

Tender roast, potatoes, green beans and homemade rolls—the mouthwatering aroma made his taste buds come alive. He was hungry. As he dug in, he knew he couldn’t keep making extra work for Etta. He had to bite the bullet and eat at the house as he’d done before.

As much as he wanted her to, Skylar Belle wasn’t going away. Chewing a mouthful of roast, he wondered what the odds were of them ever meeting again. When she’d come home for Dane’s funeral, he couldn’t believe his eyes. However, there was no mistaking the striking redhead with the sultry blue eyes. She’d treated him just as she had the last time he’d seen her—as if he didn’t exist. She’d had no clue who he was, or if she did, she hid it well. Luckily, she hadn’t stayed long and he didn’t have to deal with her.

Finishing the food, he pushed back his chair, which scraped across the old wood floor. He carried the empty plate to the sink and washed it. Etta didn’t believe in paper plates. He was drying the dish when the redhead’s words came back to him.

High Five comes first and we have to put our differences aside. I’d appreciate your cooperation.

Like hell…

He’d promised Cait he would do everything he could to keep High Five running smoothly, though Skylar Belle made that promise difficult. But he owed Cait, and he wouldn’t go back on his word.

No matter how much personal angst it cost him.

KIRA HAD TOYS STREWN all over the parlor floor. Sky sat cross-legged, watching her child dress and undress her Barbie doll, her favorite activity. Kira loved clothes. Maybe she’d even have a career in fashion…if she had a career. There was always that fear in Sky that Kira wouldn’t have much of a life, just a lot of pain and endless days of dealing with it.

The doctor had said there were three types of juvenile rheumatoid arthritis, polyarticular, pauciarticular and systemic. After much testing, and because Kira only had redness and swelling in her knees and occasionally her elbow, the doctor concluded she fell into the pauciarticular category. That was good news. With less than four joints involved, Kira could outgrow the disease or go into remission as she aged. But there was also a possibility the disease could become progressively worse. No matter what, Sky would be with her all the way.

“Time for bed, precious.”

Kira shook her head. “I don’t want to.”

This was the hard part. Discipline. Sky held up the fingers on one hand. “Five more minutes.”

Kira nodded and kept tugging a dress onto the doll.

“Cooper didn’t come to supper,” Gran said from the sofa. “Did you talk to him?”

Sky helped her daughter slip high heels on the doll, and realized she was biting her lip. “Yes, and I told him he was welcome.”

“And…”

She looked at her grandmother. “And what?”

“What did he say?”

“Nothing, Gran. Absolutely nothing. That’s his modus operandi when it comes to me.”

“And Skylar Belle can’t change that?”

A smile touched her lips. “Not with Southern manners.”

Gran laughed, a real laugh that warmed Sky’s soul. It felt good to be home with people who loved her.

“On that thought, I think it’s time for all of us to go to bed.” Gran rose to her feet.

Without a word Kira began to pick up her dolls and clothes. Sky found that remarkable. One word from Gran and Kira obeyed, much as she, Cait and Maddie did. Sky helped her tuck everything into a small suitcase reserved for her Barbies and then the trio headed for the stairs.

“Can I play with Georgie tomorrow?” Kira asked.

“We’ll see what Aunt Maddie has to say.”

Kira beamed at her. “She say yes, yes, yes.”

Sky glanced at Gran. “She knows Aunt Maddie.”

“Yes, she does.”

They hugged on the landing. “’Night, Gran.”

“’Night, my babies.”

After getting Kira into bed and taking her own shower, Sky stood looking out the window toward the bunkhouse. She could see the back of the structure and a light burning in a window on the left. That must be his bedroom.

She’d never dreamed he’d been beaten as a child. How horrific. She felt bad about how she’d treated him and how she’d thought of him like a narrow-minded simpleton.

But he had that effect on her and she couldn’t explain why. It felt as if she needed to protect herself. From what? That she couldn’t answer. But they definitely had a negative reaction to each other.

She crawled in beside her daughter, careful not to wake her. Dealing with Cooper, Sky had forgotten about the Spencers. But that worry was always there at the back of her mind. She prayed they’d give up their quest to find their grandchild.

Tomorrow was a new day. A day to start over. A day to forget the shadow hanging over her.

And another day to tackle Mr. Ignore Me.

Oh, he had a rude awakening coming if he thought she gave up so easily.

IN THE MORNING SKY carried Kira downstairs for breakfast. She placed her in a booster seat and Etta brought steaming oatmeal to the table. Fixing Kira a bowl, Sky prayed she’d eat it. Her child had very little appetite, and it was a struggle to keep her strong and healthy.

Kira played with the spoon and then glanced at her with those gorgeous blue eyes. “Can I play with Georgie today, Mommy?”

“If you eat your oatmeal and drink your milk.” That was such a lame bribe, but she’d take whatever worked.

“Do Georgie eat oatmeal?”

Sky kissed her baby’s cheek. “Every day. That’s why he’s so strong.”

“I wanna be strong like Georgie.” Kira shoved oatmeal into her mouth and swallowed.

Great!

“The devil’s gonna get you,” Etta whispered as Sky poured a cup of coffee.

“Don’t tell anyone, but he already has.”

The old lady grinned and Sky gave her a hug. Etta always reminded her of Granny on the old Beverly Hillbillies sitcom, except Etta had short permed hair.

Gran entered the kitchen already dressed for the day. Sky was still in her cotton pj’s, so she kissed her and said, “Please watch Kira while I get dressed.”

Gran took a seat by her great-granddaughter and Sky dashed upstairs.

In a second she had on her jeans and was stuffing the tail of a pearl-snap shirt into the waistband. She guided her braided-leather belt through the loops and buckled it. Sitting down, she slipped on her boots. Oh, yeah. Cowgirl up. She was ready to face Cooper Yates.

Then she turned and saw herself in the mirror. Crap! Her hair looked like a huge dust mop. She hated her naturally curly hair—another trait she’d inherited from her mother.

Grabbing a flat iron, her favorite tool in the whole world, she sat at the dressing table and went to work. Within minutes she had it in a manageable style, clipped back at her nape.

She took a second glance at the sprinkling of freckles across her nose. How many times had she cursed them over the years? Too many to count. Makeup would cover them, but she wasn’t taking that route today. She left her fair skin clean and natural. Now she was ready.

Pausing at the door, she reached for her cell phone to call Cait.

Brenda Sue, Judd’s secretary, answered. Sky groaned. The woman gave annoying a new meaning. “May I speak to Caitlyn, please?” She held her breath.