Coming back from that, proving to his father and the board that he could be trusted again, had been one of the hardest things he’d ever had to do. But he’d done it by setting his own rules. By understanding that everyone wanted something from you, and you had to figure out the cost before you decided if it was worth paying.
Then his dad had died and he’d taken over the company, and for a long time work had been more important than anything else. And, when he’d finally had time to breathe again, he’d known who he was. He’d known what he had—money and power. He’d known what people wanted from him. And he’d made damn sure only to give it away on his own terms—until Rachel.
Rachel had broken past his walls, made him believe that she wanted something else, something no one had ever wanted from him before. Love.
He’d given it all to her—and it had nearly destroyed him.
Love, he’d decided, was the most illogical thing of all.
But he had a feeling that the damned tree in the rock had inspired Dawn to go and chase it again.
Just hopefully not with his brother.
They swapped seats after a swift late lunch in a roadside diner, Dawn sliding in behind Claudia’s wheel as if she’d been driving her all her life. She cranked up the radio—still playing Elvis—and started singing along, mangling the words so badly that Cooper couldn’t help but join in on the chorus.
She beamed at him as he sang, and he rolled his eyes and pretended he wasn’t really singing, even though he obviously was.
Still, as the skies started to grow orange and red as the daylight faded, Dawn looked exhausted.
‘Are we planning to stop soon?’ she asked, the question truncated by a jaw-cracking yawn.
‘Lexington,’ he said shortly. ‘About another hour.’
‘Right.’ Another yawn, and Claudia swerved slightly as Dawn took her hand off the wheel to cover her mouth again.
Cooper swore silently. She wasn’t going to make it to Lexington. She’d hardly slept the night before, because she’d given him the bed. And, as much as his aching arms didn’t want to drive any more today either, he would have to take over the wheel or risk them crashing.
Maybe Lexington was too far to aim for tonight. But he knew they had to make it, all the same. He had to get to Justin, to help his brother escape making the same mistake he had.
He glanced across at Dawn again, her eyes sleepy but her jaw set. He couldn’t help but think she’d be a better match for any man than Rachel had been, but what did he know? His swift divorce was proof that he was no judge of women.
Maybe Dawn was just a better actress than his ex-wife.
Up ahead, Cooper saw lights and a familiar sign, and smiled.
‘Pull over at the next turn-off,’ he said. ‘We’ll swap over.’
Dawn frowned as she signalled. ‘Here?’
‘Yep,’ Cooper replied as the giant likeness of Buffalo Bill came into view. ‘Right here.’
* * *
It had been years since Cooper had been to Fort Cody, the replica frontier-redoubt that claimed to be Nebraska’s largest souvenir and Western gift store. He struggled even to remember how they’d come across it, or why they’d even been travelling through Nebraska in the first place—it certainly wasn’t the sort of place the Edwards family had frequented when he’d been growing up. But that was precisely why Cooper liked it so much.
‘Fort Cody Trading Post,’ Dawn read doubtfully. ‘Western gifts?’
‘It’s a souvenir place, mostly.’ Cooper unbuckled his seat belt. ‘With a bit of frontier history thrown in. Come on.’
Dawn’s uncertain expression started to fade as she took in the log stockade walls and the wooden lookout towers with the stars and stripes flying from them.
‘So is this where the real Buffalo Bill came from?’ she asked, reading the information board under the giant, thirty-foot-tall Bill Cody sign.
‘Well, maybe not originally,’ Cooper allowed. ‘But he lived here for a while.’
‘I suppose that counts.’ Dawn flashed him a cheeky grin. ‘I suppose when a country only has a few centuries of history you have to take what you can get.’
‘Of course, even when a country is as vast and influential as the United States, it’s still quite an achievement to have so much history everywhere you travel within it,’ Cooper countered, and Dawn laughed.
‘I’ll let you have that one,’ she said, linking her hand through his arm casually. He stiffened at her touch, then forced himself to relax. ‘Come on, let’s go in. I have a lot of family to buy souvenirs for.’
She didn’t let go until they were well inside, when she dashed off to study some Buffalo Bill keyrings, and suddenly Cooper felt a chill, despite the warmth of the evening.
Unsettled, he watched Dawn flit from stand to stand within the main shop, collecting tacky memorabilia in her arms as though it was precious jewels, holding it close against her chest. She looked like a child in a sweet shop, and Cooper tried to remember the last time he’d seen such sheer enjoyment in anyone.
He couldn’t. But, if he could, he knew for a fact it wouldn’t have been caused by a Buffalo Bill keyring.
The people in his life—work colleagues, family, a few acquaintances that had hung around after his divorce—weren’t the sort of people to get excited by souvenirs and faux Western decoration. None of them. If he’d brought literally anyone else he knew to this place, they’d have rolled their eyes at the spectacle and told him they’d wait in the car.
Which led him to the very uncomfortable conclusion that Dawn wasn’t like anyone else he knew.
Maybe that wasn’t too bad in itself, but it was the thought it led to next that was causing him real problems.
‘I just need to go pay for these, then we’ll get some coffee, okay?’ Dawn said, bouncing up next to him, her arms full.
Cooper just nodded and watched her bound away again towards the shop desk.
If Dawn wasn’t like anyone he knew, she wasn’t like Rachel. And spending the last few days in her company had led him to only one disturbing conclusion. One he knew in his gut was absolutely true, even if it made no sense at all.
Justin was wrong about her.
So what the hell did he do now?
CHAPTER NINE
THEY RAN INTO a traffic jam not far outside Lexington, stuck in a long line of stationary cars just a few miles from the hotel Cooper had booked while they’d been at Fort Cody, while the sky grew darker and night time fell. Dawn was relieved that Cooper was driving, not sure that she’d have been able to stay alert enough to deal with the stop-start traffic and the idiots trying to pull unsafe manoeuvres to get them home sooner.
But, as Cooper’s jaw cracked with a huge yawn, she realised that she wasn’t the only one who was tired, and it was her duty as a road-trip buddy to keep him awake and attentive.
Which meant it was time for the time-honoured tradition of car games. Starting with Fortunately/Unfortunately.
‘Fortunately, we’re not too far from our hotel,’ she said with a perky smile.
Cooper narrowed his eyes at her. ‘Unfortunately it could take us hours through all this traffic.’
‘Fortunately, we’re in the best car in the world!’
‘What are we doing here?’ Cooper asked, and Dawn clicked her tongue with disappointment.
‘That’s not the game!’
‘We’re playing a game?’
Dawn shook her head. ‘Don’t you know anything? We’re on a road trip, we’re stuck in traffic. We have to play games.’
‘Do I at least get to know the rules, then?’ Cooper looked faintly amused at the prospect of car games, which Dawn decided was probably the best reaction she could expect from him.
‘It’s easy. I say something positive and optimistic—like, fortunately we’re not far from our hotel—a
nd you do what apparently comes totally naturally to you, since you didn’t even realise we were playing, and say something negative, like—’
‘Unfortunately it could take hours,’ Cooper finished for her.
‘Exactly!’ She grinned at him. ‘Ready now?’
‘Hang on. Why can’t I do the “fortunately” part?’ Cooper asked.
Dawn blinked. ‘Uh, I guess you could. If you liked.’ And if he honestly thought he could come up with positive things to say for the next twenty minutes, or for however long they would be stuck in this traffic jam. ‘I suppose it could be more of a challenge that way round.’
Because she was the positive one. The one always looking for a happy-ever-after. And he...well, wasn’t.
‘Fortunately, I like a challenge,’ Cooper said. And just like that, the game was on.