Winnie Griggs - Second Chance Hero

Then, almost as if drawn to it, her gaze moved to the closed door of the shop next to Hazel’s. The window bore the name Cooper’s Saddle, Tack & Supply in crisp white letters. Mr. Cooper, the owner, had moved to Turnabout just a couple of weeks ago and had opened his shop on Monday. She hadn’t officially met him yet—only seen him from a distance in church and around town. Not that she was in any hurry to get to know him better. After all, she was twenty-four years old and a widow. Hardly someone who would be looking to form attachments of that sort.

And even if she had been looking for such a thing, Mr. Cooper was not at all the type of man she’d be attracted to. There was a guarded air about him that, even from a distance, made her think he wasn’t all he seemed, that he held something tightly leashed inside himself. Perhaps it was just her imagination, but it was enough to put her guard up. Some women might be attracted to men who seemed just a little bit dangerous or adventurous, but she preferred someone who was dependable and reliable, someone like her late husband, Arthur.

Still, something about the man tugged at her imagination...

The door to the saddle shop opened as if on cue, and her pulse kicked up a notch. But to her surprise, instead of Mr. Cooper, a small brown dog padded out. The animal looked around, then sat on its haunches next to the doorway, for all the world as if it were guarding the place.

Surely that animal didn’t belong to Mr. Cooper? She would have pictured him with a large hunting dog—not this small, cuddly-looking pet that reminded her of a child’s stuffed bear.

Joy, who was chattering to her doll, Lulu, about Buttons, hadn’t noticed the animal yet. Verity braced herself for the gleeful clamor that would come whenever her daughter did notice.

A heartbeat later Mr. Cooper himself stepped out, broom in hand, and Verity paused the merest fraction between one step and the next. There was no denying that there was a presence about the man, much more impactful up close than from a distance. It wasn’t his size—he couldn’t be more than a couple of inches taller than she was, maybe five foot nine. Nor did he seem to be actively trying to command attention. In fact just the opposite. But there was a hardness about him, an air of stoicism and confidence—or was it a kind of self-containment?—that was hard to ignore.

Then he bent to scratch the dog behind the ears, and her impression of him shifted. His closed expression softened to something resembling exasperated affection, and the dog responded with tail-wagging exuberance. His brown hair, worn a bit longer than normally seen around here, was nearly as dark as his dog’s coat and it had the slightest of waves to it.

Mr. Cooper straightened, obviously ready to sweep the walk in front of his shop, and only then noticed the two of them approaching. His expression closed again and he paused to let them pass.

It seemed she was going to meet the newcomer now, whether she wanted to or not—at least enough to exchange greetings. His gaze might be impassive, but still Verity’s nerves jangled at being the focus of it. She tamped that feeling down, but before she could offer a greeting, Joy spotted the dog.

“Oh, look at the little doggie, Mama. Isn’t he cute?”

Verity nodded, studiously not looking Mr. Cooper’s way. “Yes, he is.”

Joy, however, seemed to have no qualms about meeting Mr. Cooper’s eyes. “Is he your doggie, Mister?” she asked brightly.

The man’s expression eased into a slight smile. “He is. His name is Beans.”

Verity blinked. What an odd name to give a dog. Even odder still that such a fanciful name had come from such a decidedly un fanciful-seeming man.

“Can I pet him?” Joy asked.

Verity, worried about allowing her daughter to approach a strange animal, stepped in before Mr. Cooper could respond. “Stop pestering Mr. Cooper—it’s not polite. We need—”

“It’s no bother.” His voice had a husky, gravelly quality to it. But it wasn’t unpleasant. In fact she rather liked the sound of it.

“Beans won’t hurt the child,” he said. Then he turned back to Joy and gave her another smile. “If your mother allows it, Beans and I don’t mind.”

Joy looked up at Verity. “Can I, Mama, please?”

“ May I,” Verity corrected. She glanced at the dog. The animal appeared friendly enough, so she gave a reluctant nod. “Very well, but just a quick, gentle pat. We need to get along to Miss Hazel’s shop.”

Smiling brightly, Joy rushed over to the dog and knelt down to stroke its head and talk nonsense to it for a minute. The dog accepted the attention with a happy wag of its tail. A moment later it had its two front paws planted on Joy’s knees and was trying to bathe her face with his tongue.

Verity made a small involuntary move to intervene, and then the sound of Joy’s giggles stopped her. She supposed there was no real harm in letting her daughter have fun with the animal for a few minutes.

Instead, she forced herself to look away from Joy and face the dog’s owner. Up close, Mr. Cooper was even more interesting. There was an ever-so-slight dimple in his chin, but it in no way took away from his firm jawline or the chiseled planes of his face. It was those piercing blue-gray eyes, however, that drew her in, made her want to learn more about him. Combine that with his guarded air, and he had a definite presence about him. He wasn’t exactly what you’d call handsome—his features were too irregular for that. No, not handsome, but arresting.

Yes, most definitely arresting.

Then she realized he was waiting for her to say something. “I hope you don’t mind,” she said with what she hoped was a neighborly smile. “Joy has such a love for animals, it’s impossible for her to pass one by without stopping to pet it.”

“Beans seems to be enjoying the attention,” he said noncommittally. Then he glanced toward Joy. “My sister was the same way.”

She noticed something momentarily cloud his expression, but it was gone by the time he turned back to her. Then she realized he’d used the word was . She’d passed away then. Was his loss recent?

Verity decided to change the subject. “It’s nice to see someone making use of the old boot shop.”

He nodded. “It’s working out well for what I need.”

Definitely not much of a conversationalist. She tried again. “How are you liking Turnabout so far?”

“The folks here are neighborly and it seems like a good place to set down roots.”

Is that what he wanted to do—set down roots? Stability and responsibility were certainly fine traits to aspire to. But did that mean he’d been a drifter before he came here?

“I’m pleased to hear it.” Then, remembering that poignant mention of his sister, her smile warmed. “And if you’re looking to leave your past behind you,” she said softly, “and find a new place to belong, then you’ve come to the right place.”

At the flash of surprise in his eyes, she realized just how presumptuous that must have sounded. Embarrassed, she quickly turned to Joy and held her hand out. “Come along, pumpkin. Time to tell the dog goodbye. Thank Mr. Cooper and let’s be on our way.”

Joy obediently turned to Beans’s owner. “Thank you, Mr. Cooper. Beans is a nice doggie.” She held out her doll. “And Lulu likes him, too.”

Risking a glance his way, Verity saw that he was giving her daughter a broad smile, apparently choosing to ignore her own ill-conceived remarks of a moment ago.

“You’re welcome,” he said, executing a half bow. “Both of you. Anytime.”

Verity decided he should smile more often—it transformed his face, making him appear much more approachable. But perhaps he reserved his smiles for puppies and children.