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  Five

  “Very funny.” Cooper gave her the plate and chuckling, turned back to the dirty dishes. “But don’t joke about stuff like that.”

  “I’m not joking, Cooper.”

  “You’d better be, because you can’t quit.”

  “Yes, I can. I just did. Consider this my two weeks’ notice.”

  Cooper shut off the water and turned to face her. Her dark brown hair was pulled back from her face and held by one of those clip things that opened like an alligator’s jaws. In the overhead light, her big green eyes were shadowed as she looked at him, and there wasn’t so much as a hint of a smile on her face.

  A solitary thread of worry slithered through him.

  “Is this about the ghost thing? And the crying last night? Because if it is, don’t worry about it—I swear it’s just somebody playing a dumb joke.”

  “It’s not about the crying, or the ghost story. It’s about us.”

  Now he was really confused. “Us? What about us?”

  She tossed the yellow-and-white striped dishtowel onto the counter, then folded her arms under her breasts, tipped her head to one side and glared at him. “You don’t get it at all, do you?”

  “Apparently not.”

  “So typical.”

  “What’d I do?”

  She unfolded her arms, slapped her hands on her hips and said, “Nothing. Ever. Just nothing.” Before he could speak, she held up one hand for silence, took a deep breath and said shortly, “Never mind. Let’s just say that I’m quitting because we can’t keep going on like this.”

  “Like what?” Why did he suddenly feel like he was speaking Greek in a Chinese restaurant?

  “Like we are, Cooper.”

  “What’s wrong with it?” And why was she suddenly not making any sense to him at all?

  “It’s like we’re married, Cooper. Only without any of the good stuff. Like sex.”

  Instantly, the memory of her in that pretty silk nightie popped into his brain and set fire to a completely different part of his anatomy. He had to admit that up until the night before, he’d never really thought about Kara and sex in the same sentence. But now, he wasn’t so sure. “You want us to have sex?”

  Kara blew out a frustrated breath, reached up and tugged the clip from her hair then shook her head and rubbed at the spot where it had been. All of that thick, dark brown hair flew about her face in soft waves and made Cooper want to reach out and comb his fingers through it.

  Hey, maybe sex was a good idea.

  “Of course I want sex. But I want more than that, too.” Sighing, she said, “I want a husband. Kids. A home. I’ve been working for you for five years and all I’ve got to show for it is a nice savings account and a few new recipes.”

  “So you’ve been miserable working for me? Is that it?”

  “No, that’s not it at all. Just the opposite, in fact,” she said irritably. “I got so comfortable that I didn’t notice that I wasn’t getting anywhere.”

  “What’s so bad about comfortable?” he demanded, suddenly realizing that she might just be serious about quitting. Her eyes shone with regret, but there was no going back with Kara. He knew that already. Once she’d made up her mind about something, that was it.

  And the thought of losing Kara hit him hard.

  “Nothing,” she said, “if that’s all you’re looking for, then comfortable is great. But it’s not enough for me. Not anymore.”

  “Hold on,” he countered, feeling his heart jolt in his chest. “This is all coming out of the blue for me, Kara. As far as I knew, everything between us was working great.”

  “Well sure,” she snapped, throwing both hands high and letting them slap to her sides again. “Why wouldn’t it be great from your point of view? I take care of everything for you. I pay your bills, talk to your editors, handle your publicity, pick up your dry cleaning…you can’t even make a decent pot of coffee on your own.”

  “Hey!” Insulted, and not just because most of what she said was true, Cooper stared at her like he’d never seen her before. In the five years they’d been together, Kara had always been calm, cool, reasonable. This Kara had sparks flying from her eyes.

  Which he was just twisted enough to actually think sexy.

  “It’s not entirely your fault,” she conceded. “God knows, I worked hard at making myself indispensable.”

  “Did a good job of it, too.” Cooper tried a smile out on her and felt a quick stab of disappointment when it didn’t warm her eyes. “How about a raise? Would that make you feel differently?”

  “No!” Frustration ringing in her voice, she said loudly, “It’s not about the money, Cooper. It never was.”

  He reached for her, but she took a quick half step back. “Kara, you can’t quit. I need you too much.”

  “That’s exactly why I have to go!” She inhaled sharply, deeply and blew the air out again in a rush. “Don’t you get it? If I keep acting like your wife, I’ll never get to really be one.”

  Those sparks in her eyes were flashing like warning lights at the edge of a cliff. And Cooper was bright enough to back off fast. “You’re tired. Why don’t you sleep on it and we can talk about this in the morning when you’re calmer?”

  “Grrrrrr…” Kara tugged at her hair again and shouted, “I’m perfectly calm.”

  “Yeah,” he assured her, keeping a wary distance between them. “I can see that.”

  “Honestly Cooper, you can be the most infuriating man…” She turned on her heel, stomped across the kitchen and marched into the living room. Just before she turned for the stairs, she stopped dead, turned her head and fried him with a look. “Just so you know. I’m not going to change my mind. I am quitting.”

  Then she stomped up the stairs, managing to sound like an invading army, which just proved to Cooper that she was too upset to be making major decisions. He walked to the doorway and winced when she slammed her bedroom door. She’d feel differently in the morning.

  He could talk his way around Kara.

  She’d see reason.

  So why, he wondered, was he suddenly so worried?

  When the sobbing started in the middle of the night, Kara was already awake. The muffled crying seemed to weep from the walls, surrounding her in a sea of pain that was strong enough to bridge the centuries. Cold crept through the bedroom and sighed around Kara.

  Despite what Cooper might like to think, this was no joke. And Kara knew she should be terrified. Should be running screaming from the old house, putting as much distance between her and the ghost as she possibly could. But she didn’t feel fear. She felt…compassion.

  Sitting up in bed, she rubbed her bare arms as tears welled up in her eyes. Empathy for the long-dead woman filled her and Kara realized that she and the ghost had a lot in common.

  Okay, not a lot.

  After all, Kara was still alive.

  But the ghost had waited for love until it was too late—Kara had waited, too, hoping that Cooper would see how good they could be together. The sobbing woman had allowed the longing for love to kill her. Kara wouldn’t make the same mistake.

  “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, glancing around the shadow-filled room as tears rolled unheeded down her cheeks. “I’m sorry for both of us.”

  Cooper, wide awake and trying to work, jolted as the sobbing began. Already, he was on edge since he hadn’t been able to write a single coherent sentence since Kara had told him she quit. All he could think about was her. And how in the hell he could convince her to change that stubborn mind of hers.

  The crying was just what he needed as a distraction. He jumped up and headed for his bedroom door. Yanking it open, he stepped into the hall and paused, waiting for Kara to appear as she had the night before. In his mind, he saw her again, hair tumbled about her face, that silky nightgown and all of her bare, tanned skin. But her door didn’t open. Did she not hear the crying? Unlikely. She was simply trying to avoid him. That simple truth jabbed at him and he scowled at h
er closed door. Damn it, how could she quit? How could she walk away from him?

  Cooper muttered darkly, then headed down the hall alone, following the crying as it seemed to float through the house. He didn’t care what Jeremiah said, Cooper didn’t believe in ghosts and he was going to find the damn joker behind these nightly visits.

  He didn’t bother with turning on the lights, finding his way with no problem, since moonlight filtered through the windows. The wood floor cool beneath his bare feet, Cooper moved soundlessly through the house, determined to put an end to this ghost stuff once and for all.

  Only last night, he thought, he and Kara had been in this together. And a part of him missed having her with him. Missed the feel of her hand in his as they slipped through the shadows. Missed the sense of…teamwork, they’d always shared.

  Damn. How could she quit?

  Pushing that furious thought out of his head, he concentrated instead on the mournful cries reverberating around him. The night before, when Kara had been with him, the sobs had led them to the parlor. Tonight, the terrible crying took him to the front door.

  Smirking to himself, he muttered, “Trick me into opening the front door? Bet Mike Haney’s crouched on the porch laughing himself sick over this.”

  Grabbing the brass doorknob, Cooper threw the door open, expecting to come face-to-face with some practical joker.

  But no one was there.

  He took a step forward and stopped dead.

  A wall of icy cold blocked the doorway.

  Cooper sucked in air like a drowning man. His heartbeat jumped into a frantic beat that felt as though it was going to burst through his chest. Chills snaked along his spine. His throat squeezed shut and his mouth went dry.

  The cold was immovable. Solid. As if it had always been there.

  Around him, the sobs grew harsher, louder, more desperate.

  Moonlight spilled onto the lawn, spearing through the trees, laying down lacy patterns that dipped and swayed in the wind.

  “Mike Haney’s not behind this,” he whispered, scrubbing one hand across his face as his heartbeat slowly returned to normal.

  This was no joke. The wall of cold was too real to be ignored or explained. He watched as his breath formed tiny clouds of mist in front of his face. Nope. No joke. This was yet another ghost.

  The too late lover?

  The cold pressed forward, trying to enter. Trying to get into the house, even if it had to go through Cooper. He felt the pressure against his chest as if someone were pushing him. The small hairs at the back of his neck stood straight up as the sobbing in the house became a moaning wail and then nearly a shriek of desperation fueled by fury.

  It was one thing to write about ghosts. It was totally another to actually live with one.

  “Is that what this is all about?” he asked, not really expecting an answer. “She’s been waiting for you and you’re finally trying to get into the house?”

  His breath misted. Chills raced up and down his spine, but he fought off the instinct to close the door. If he could solve this ghost problem, maybe the long-dead lady would stop crying in the night. So instead, he opened it wider, stood back and waved one arm in silent invitation. “Come on then. Come find your woman and apologize or whatever it is you’re trying to do and—”

  The door was snatched free of his grip and slammed closed with a force that rattled the window panes.

  Cooper blew out a breath and looked around the suddenly silent room. The cold was locked outside, the crying ghost was quiet—and apparently pissed off—and he was just as confused as ever. According to Jeremiah, this ghost had been waiting for her lover for a hundred and fifty years. Now that he’s come she won’t let him in?

  Women.

  “He’s the most stubborn man on the face of the planet,” Kara said grimly and snapped a green bean neatly in half.

  “Believe me,” Maggie said with a quiet smile. “I totally understand.”

  “No, you couldn’t possibly.” Kara pushed up from the table set under the oak tree in the backyard of Cooper’s grandfather’s ranch. She’d come to talk to Maggie, Sam’s fiancée, because frankly, she was going a little stir crazy.

  The last few days had crawled past.

  Cooper wouldn’t talk to her. Wouldn’t even acknowledge the fact that she’d quit her job. Whenever she tried to talk to him about arranging for a temp until he could find someone permanent, he only gave her a patient smile. He wasn’t listening. Wasn’t taking her seriously.

  Heck, she was going to have to actually leave to convince him she meant business.

  “Trust me,” Maggie said as she leaned back in her chair and stretched her legs out in front of her. “I think stubborn is a Lonergan family trait.”

  Kara shook her hair back out of her face as a quick wind kicked up out of nowhere, carrying on it the scent of the sea. She took a deep breath, blew it out and made a concentrated effort to calm herself.

  It didn’t work.

  Lifting one hand, she rubbed her aching eyes. The headache that had been creeping up on her for hours was now in full bloom and every muscle in her body hurt. It was lack of sleep, she knew. Had to be.

  The ghost had been in fine voice the last three nights. And every night, Kara sat in her room alone, listening to a long-dead woman cry for her lost love. It was as if the ghost were trying to tell Kara something. Warn her. Don’t let this happen to you, she seemed to be saying.

  “Are you okay?”

  Turning around to look at the other woman, Kara swallowed hard, forced a smile she didn’t feel and said, “Yes. I’m fine. Just…tired.”

  “The ghost?”

  Kara smiled again. “You don’t have any trouble believing?”

  “No.” Maggie stood up and walked to Kara’s side. Dappled shade from the tree swept across her face in a lacy pattern. “Love’s the strongest emotion there is. Why shouldn’t it be able to linger long after we’ve gone?”

  “I feel so bad for her,” Kara said, “it’s not just hearing her. I can feel her pain. Her sorrow is so profound, so all encompassing that—” What? That she was beginning to think the ghost was trying to communicate with her? Kara shook her head at her own crazy thoughts and chuckled. “Though I could really use some sleep.”

  “You sure you’re only tired?” Maggie’s dark gaze fixed on her with concern. “You sort of look feverish. I could take you into town, have Sam give you a checkup.”

  Kara’s stomach turned and she sucked in a gulp of air to steady it. She didn’t want to see a doctor. She just wanted to go. To leave Coleville and Cooper behind so she could start the big plan of getting over him.

  “Honest. I’m fine.” She tried another smile and added, “I actually came over here to ask you for a favor, Maggie.”

  “Sure, what is it?”

  “I told you that Cooper won’t admit that I quit my job?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Well, I’ve decided the only way to prove it to him is to just go.”

  “You’re leaving?”

  “I have to,” she said firmly, not really sure if she was trying to convince Maggie, or herself. But did it matter? “I wanted to give him two weeks’ notice, but he’s not listening to me, so what’s the point? Anyway, until I can arrange for a temporary assistant for him, Cooper’s going to be on his own—and he’ll probably starve if someone doesn’t remind him to eat occasionally.”

  “You’re worried about him.”

  “Only natural,” Kara said, trying to shrug off Maggie’s words. “I’ve been running his world for five years. Without me, he’s going to be lost.” Just as she would be without him. “So I was wondering if you’d mind checking up on him once in awhile. You know, just…make sure he goes grocery shopping for more than frozen burritos?”

  Maggie watched her for several long seconds and Kara wanted to squirm under the woman’s steady regard. Finally though, Maggie said, “I’ll be happy to—if you answer one question for me.”

  Kar
a sighed. “What is it?”

  “Why don’t you tell Cooper that you’re in love with him?”

  Surprised, Kara thought briefly about denying the truth. Then, looking into Maggie’s understanding gaze, she figured, why bother? Rubbing at her forehead again in an attempt to quiet the pounding just behind her eyes, she said softly, “Because he doesn’t want to know.”

  “But loving him, can you really walk away?” Maggie asked, reaching out to lay one hand on Kara’s forearm.

  “I have to,” she said, wishing things were different. “While I still can.”

  Cooper was waiting for her.

  Twilight filled the kitchen. Candles on the old table stood straight and tall, their flames dipping and swaying in the breeze. From the living room came the quiet, smooth sound of old jazz playing on the stereo. Everything was set. He had dinner made—even he could make pasta—and a bottle of wine open and breathing on the table.

  Over the last few days, he’d done a lot of thinking—mostly because he hadn’t been able to do anything else. He couldn’t concentrate enough to write and couldn’t talk to Kara without her talking about leaving him. This afternoon, he’d decided on a plan of action.

  She walked inside, closed the door, then turned to face him.

  Cooper looked her over, head to toe. Her dark brown hair had been tossed by the wind and her green eyes glittered in the reflected sunlight. She wore denim shorts, a pale yellow tank top and white sandals. She looked…beautiful.

  Why had he never really noticed before? When had he become the kind of man who didn’t pay attention to the people around him? Had he really become so secluded that he didn’t even take notice of the woman who kept his entire life running on schedule?

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “What?”

  “What’s wrong, Cooper?”

  “Nothing.” He shook his head, told himself to quit with the self-analysis and get down to the plan. “Nothing’s wrong.”

  “Good.” She sniffed the air. “You cooked?”

  “Contrary to popular belief, I’m not a complete moron.”