Laura Altom - The Cowboy SEAL

“It’s that bad?” she asked Cooper.

“’Fraid so.” His expression was grim. “It’s a wonder none of the occupants were hurt.”

A series of muffled growls erupted from Clint’s room.

Millie punctuated those with her own groan.

“Want me to check on him?” Cooper offered.

“Thanks, but the mom in me thinks you two should be grounded from each other.”

Judging by Cooper’s scowl, he disagreed with her judgment. “Whatever. J.J.? Wanna check the cattle with me?”

“Yeah!” His supersize grin faded. “But I need to build the chicken fence first. Can you wait?”

“I’ll do you one better—while you work on the fence, I’ll grab some plywood and straw from the barn. We’ll use it to protect your mom’s floor until we rig a heat lamp in the barn.”

“Okay!” J.J. dashed outside for more wood.

“Cooper...” Millie’s mind reeled. Too much was happening too fast. LeeAnn making her promise to never love another man besides Jim. Chickens in her kitchen. J.J.’s instant connection with his uncle. LeeAnn’s instant hatred of him. Toss Clint and way too much snow into the mix and Millie’s plate wasn’t just full, but spilling over onto her now filthy kitchen floor. “Do you think it’s wise to take J.J. out to check the cattle?”

“Why wouldn’t it be? He’s already bundled up. I assume he can ride?”

“Well, sure. Jim had him on horseback practically since he learned to walk.”

Cooper sighed. “Then what’s the problem?”

Where did she start? Her son was beyond precious to her. Along with his sister, the duo had been her reason for living ever since Jim died. As much as one part of her appreciated Cooper riding in on his white horse disguised as a ratty old pickup, another part of her resented his very presence. She and Clint had managed on their own for all these years and didn’t need Cooper showing up, thinking he had all the answers. Only the joke was on her, because at the moment, as overwhelmed as she was—he did.

A fact that scared her to her core.

Because Cooper might be a dependable, stand-up guy in the Navy. But when it came to his track record on being around when his family needed him most? His stats were an abysmal 1-288-0. A single, early-morning chicken rescue hardly made him a trustworthy man.

Chapter Six

Cooper gritted his teeth against the icy assault that had him pulling his hat brim lower and his coat collar higher. Clouds may have cleared, making way for blinding sun, but the wind had only grown stronger, driving the dry twelve inches of snow into an otherworldly landscape of towering drifts and bare earth.

“Sorry, girl.” He leaned forward, stroking Sassy’s mane.

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