The Cowboy’s Second Chance Family (Wells Brothers Book 3)

by Leslie North

  “What patients?”

  Avery narrowed her eyes. “I’m a veterinarian. I took over Doc’s practice.”

  A joy he could hardly explain lit him up from the inside out. Avery had always wanted to be a vet, and now she was. He’d missed the process, somehow, but who cared? She’d gotten where she always wanted to go.

  “Congratulations, Avery. That’s amazing.” Tucker held out his arms to give her a hug.

  Avery stepped back.

  The joy fled.

  She glared at him, eyes filled with pain and confusion, saying nothing.

  Tucker swallowed a lump in his throat, worry pulling his soul taut until it was ready to snap.

  “Okay, then,” he said. “Can I use your phone?”

  2

  For the life of her, Avery couldn’t figure out what Tucker was playing at.

  Amnesia? Really? He’d obviously hit his head—the cut above his temple proved that much. But forgetting the last ten years? Was that even possible?

  It was. She knew that it was. If it had been the horse that threw him, then it was definitely possible.

  Tucker stood in the front entryway, looking as handsome as he ever had. Even his bulky coat couldn’t conceal the hard lines of his body underneath—or maybe she was too good at picturing what they’d look like now, after all this time had passed. Oooh, it made her mad. It wasn’t fair that he could look this good and practically tear her in two. On the one hand, she didn’t want him in her house at all. On the other hand, she couldn’t very well send a man with a head injury out into the cold and snow.

  But part of her—a very small part—thought he just might deserve it.

  Avery shook off that ugly feeling and met Tucker’s eyes.

  “The phones are down. Both the landline and my cell. There’s probably too much snow on the lines, and the cell towers out here have never been very good.” She took a deep breath, trying to release some of the old hurt bubbling just beneath the surface of her skin. “Let’s go into the kitchen, and I’ll start dinner. Seems like as good a plan as any.”

  Shanna and Tucker followed her back down the hall, and Tucker took a seat at the kitchen table. He folded his hands on the surface, watching her like a hawk.

  “We’re having spaghetti tonight,” Avery announced to the room at large. Shanna hopped over to the counter next to her, and the two of them started the old routine of getting things ready for dinner. Avery grabbed the plates and the jar of sauce, and Shanna got the pot for noodles and the strainer from the low cupboard.

  “So…you guys know each other?” Shanna’s tone was so casual that it broke Avery’s heart. She looked between Avery and Tucker.

  “We know each other,” Avery admitted. She filled the pot with water and set it on the stove, lighting it up with a turn of the knob.

  “Who is he, then?”

  Tension sucked the air from the room, making it hard to move, but what was her other choice? To run upstairs to the bedroom, throw herself on the bed, and nurse a broken heart from years ago?

  “He’s a man I used to date.” Avery had never been more aware of a person’s presence, a person’s eyes on her, than she was right now. “Who apparently has amnesia and can’t remember the last ten years.”

  What she really needed to do was keep her cool. Not let her face go red. Keep her breathing steady. Shanna didn’t need to know that anything was amiss—that Avery’s emotions roiled beneath the surface of her skin, expanding outward to take up every available inch of her body and soul. Avery peered down into the water on the stove. A few errant bubbles came up from the bottom of the pot.

  “Let’s do the veggies,” Avery announced. She couldn’t stare into the pot of water forever, trying to ignore the way Tucker seemed to take up so much space in the room.

  “A man you used to date?”

  Avery looked up to find her daughter staring at her, eyes narrowed and curiosity burning in those baby blues. In spite of herself, her gaze lifted above Shanna’s head and she met Tucker’s eyes. A spark went through her like a comet streaking through the sky. Oh, no. Not those old feelings. Not here, not now. She swallowed them back.

  Tucker looked away—down toward the woven placemats.

  “Yes. Date. I’ll grab the veggies, then.”

  When Avery turned around with a package of baby carrots in her hand, Shanna had darted across the room and folded herself into the chair across from Tucker. Her heart rate went through the roof at the sight of it. There were…similarities. People had told Avery that she and her daughter were carbon copies, but the way Shanna held herself across from that man…

  Avery went to the cupboard and pulled out a serving bowl, then rinsed the carrots and tipped them in.

  “So,” Shanna said. “You know my mom, then?”

  “I do.”

  Avery’s shoulders went tight, almost up to her ears, at the sound of them having a conversation. The moment felt loaded, weighted, and Tucker sounded so…confused. There was no way his amnesia had gone so deep, was there? That kind of thing seemed like it would happen in a fanciful romance novel, not her real life. It was simply too convenient for them to cross paths again after all these years, and with him injured enough that she couldn’t take him to task for the crappy way he’d treated her before.

  Then again…why?

  Why would he go to all that trouble?

  Pretending to have amnesia seemed like quite the act to pull off. One that would show its cracks sooner, rather than later. But Tucker sat in his place at the table, leaning back with his arms crossed over his chest. He was the image of Shanna.

  “What does it mean that you dated, then?”

  “Well…” Tucker shot her a look. Avery returned the glance, her skin bristling with anticipation. He shrugged, his handsome face settling into determination. “Your mother and I—we dated all through high school.”

  Shanna took this in. “High school is a long time.”

  “Yeah,” said Tucker. “Four years.”

  Avery’s pulse fluttered in her throat. She was done with high school. It had been years since then, and she’d worked hard to forget it. But now, at the sound of Tucker’s voice, all the memories came flooding back. Holding hands with him in the hallway. His face in the firelight at one of the pep rallies. The way he kissed her, fast and hard, when they were running out of time before she had to get home.

  She cleared her throat, drawing their attention. “Why don’t you tell her about after high school, Tucker? Your career as a photographer, maybe?”

  Tucker blinked at her. His hands came down from his chest, and he wiped his palms on his jeans. “Photography. Right. There’s a lot you can do with photography.”

  The water for the noodles had started to boil. Avery broke a handful of spaghetti in two and put them into the water. Please, let the next seven to ten minutes pass quickly.

  “—so, you want to eventually learn how to use manual mode,” Tucker was saying. “There are a few different modes on the camera, and all of them—”

  Avery laughed, and Shanna’s attention swung back to her.

  “What’s funny, Mom?”

  “Tell her about your trips, Tucker. Not the camera.”

  “Trips? I—” He shook his head. “I don’t think I’ve been on any trips. Last I knew, we were…” His voice dropped, face softening. “Last I knew, we’d just graduated, and the weather was nice.”

  For a moment, Avery couldn’t breathe. All those years. His entire career. He really couldn’t remember?

  “Do you know what happened?” Tucker posed the question above the sound of the bubbling pot, and Avery thought her heart might tip right out of her chest and fall onto the floor. “I can’t remember.”

  “I don’t want to talk about that.” Avery turned away from both of them. Back to the stove, and the spaghetti. Back to her thoughts. She was dropping the ball, and she knew it. The hairs on the back of her neck stood straight up.

  “So you can take all kinds of dif
ferent pictures? Like with a cell phone?” Shanna asked.

  And to Avery’s stark, powerful relief, Tucker answered.

  He was good with her. He’d never wanted children, so his patience was impressive. Good enough to keep Shanna talking while Avery finished preparing the spaghetti, warmed up the sauce, and brought it all over to the table.

  For the first time in years, she sat next to Tucker at the table and ate.

  It hurt. And it felt strangely okay. And then it hurt again. She got through it, just the way she’d gotten through the last ten years. When they were all finished, Tucker stood and cleared the plates, taking them over to the sink and filling it up with water.

  Shanna watched him go.

  Avery put a hand on her elbow. “Grab your homework, honey. Let’s get started.”

  When Tucker slid into his seat at the table twenty minutes later, she and Shanna were working through the last of the work the teacher had sent home. Shanna loved math and needed an extra hand with spelling. Avery put down the last flashcard on the table and gave her daughter a big smile.

  “Give me a hug, and head to bed. You need anything before you go?”

  Shanna stole a quick glance at Tucker. “Nope. Goodnight, Mom. Goodnight, Tucker.”

  Her footsteps on the stairs signaled that they were finally alone.

  The air between them seemed taut with expectation—like both of them were waiting for something huge to happen. It pressed in on Avery in a way she hadn’t felt in years.

  “Let me check your head,” she said finally, and went over to where Tucker sat in his seat. He straightened his back and stayed perfectly still while she brushed her fingers through his hair. “You’ve got a big knot where you hit.” The bump on his head looked red and sore, and when she made the slightest contact with it, he winced. “How are you feeling otherwise?”

  He looked up at her, and those green eyes set her on fire all over again.

  “Doesn’t feel great.” A smile played at the corner of Tucker’s lips, and Avery’s stomach did a quick flip-flop. “My head’s throbbing and my brain…” He lifted both hands in the air. “I’m missing some things.”

  She dropped her hand to her side. “Rest is the best thing for you. But you need to tell me immediately if anything changes. Anything at all.” Avery had to get away from him for a few minutes, but a worry nagged at her. “Come on upstairs. We’ve got a guest room.”

  Avery turned to go, but Tucker caught her hand. The sensation was electric, as shocking as being startled out of a bad dream and finding herself safe and sound and whole. She spun around.

  “What is it?”

  “What happened?” He looked so confused, sitting there at the table, and so infuriatingly handsome, with his green eyes shining in the kitchen light. “After we graduated. Can you clue me in?”

  Exhaustion settled over her shoulders like a heavy weight, pushing her down into the floor and down through it, down into the center of the earth. It had been a long ten years without Tucker. She hadn’t thought, not in a million years, that he’d show up on her porch tonight.

  “I can’t. Not tonight.” Avery drew herself up again. “Let me show you the guest room so you can get some sleep.”

  “Avery—”

  She held up a hand, cutting him off. “Leave it there.”

  He managed to keep quiet all the way upstairs to the three cozy bedrooms on the second floor. The master bedroom sat at the end of the hall—that was Avery’s. Shanna’s room cuddled up next to it. The guest room was closest to the stairs. Avery pushed the door open, glad she’d taken the time to make up the bed when they moved in. It would be more than enough for Tucker.

  “The next door over is the guest bathroom,” she said, her hand on the door.

  He stepped inside, then turned to face her.

  “I don’t remember.” Pain shone in his eyes. “I just don’t remember.”

  “You will soon enough.”

  Avery went down the hall to her own room, leaving him standing there. The guest room door shut with a whisper and a click before she reached her own. Thank god. The bedroom greeted her, quiet and warm. She closed the door and flipped the lock, leaned back against it, and for the first time in a long time, Avery started to cry.

  3

  Tucker slept like the dead.

  He’d wanted to stay awake, puzzling out what on earth had happened with Avery, but the moment he kicked off his jeans and crawled under the covers, he found the problem significantly harder to hold on to. He could figure it out in the morning. Anxiety kicked up at the last moment, tightening his throat—something was wrong, it was off, too much was missing from his life—but the ache in his head and the soreness all over his body won out in the end. The bed was too soft, the room too fresh and warm, and Tucker couldn’t fight it.

  The smell of bacon frying broke into his consciousness first.

  Bacon, he thought in the dark haze of sleep. Smells so good. But who would be cooking? He opened his eyes in two tiny slits. The room came into focus a moment later. A room in Doc’s house. No—Avery’s house. He’d stayed at Avery’s house last night.

  He sat up on the edge of the bed and rubbed his hands over his face. First things first—the bathroom. Tucker tugged on his jeans and padded across the hall. His blond hair stuck up in all directions, so he washed up in the sink and tamed it to the best of his ability. Then he headed back downstairs. Maybe now he and Avery could talk.

  But the person standing in front of the stove wasn’t Avery.

  It was Shanna, her dark hair pulled back in a shining ponytail. She was barefoot and wore pajamas covered in polar bears. He could hear her humming a little tune under her breath.

  “Morning, Shanna,” he said. “Where’s your mom?”

  She looked over her shoulder and threw him a smile that was so heart-wrenchingly familiar he thought he might be having a heart attack. The feeling passed as he stepped into the kitchen.

  “It’s a snow day. They called off school, so I’m making Mom breakfast in bed.” Shanna expertly flipped the bacon in the pan. “I thought I would make pancakes, too.” She frowned at the stove. “It’s going a little slower than I thought.”

  “It smells great. Want some help?”

  “Well, yeah.” Shanna glanced toward Tucker, a conspiratorial light in her eyes—almost as if she hadn’t tried out that sassy attitude with anyone just yet. “Yeah, I would,” she said again, then stepped aside to make room at the stove.

  Tucker laughed, his heart lifting. “All right, then. Let’s get these pancakes going.”

  He worked his way through Avery’s kitchen, pulling together the ingredients for pancakes and mixing them together in a bowl he found in one of the high cupboards. Soon enough, he had Avery’s skillet on the stove and the pancakes in the skillet. Shanna stood nearby, watching over his shoulder.

  “Pancakes are harder to flip than bacon,” she said. “I’m glad you stayed here.”

  “Me too.” He cleared his throat. “Did you learn how to cook from your mom?”

  Shanna shrugged. “Mostly. And there was a cooking class at school last year. We learned how to make brownies.”

  “I love brownies.”

  “Me too.”

  The pancakes bubbled up on the tops, and Tucker recognized the signs they were ready to toss. One after the other, he turned them over until all four were flipped.

  “How do you know when to turn them?” Shanna stepped closer, her eyes laser-focused on the pancakes. “I can never tell.”

  “When the bubbles pop and stay open a little bit,” he said. “Watch.”

  “This is like science class. I love science class.”

  “Science was the best class,” Tucker agreed. “Do you like science fiction books too, or just science class?”

  Shanna lit up. “I found these really old books in the library, called Animorphs. Have you ever heard of those?”

  Tucker laughed out loud. “Have I heard of them? I loved those, back when
I was younger. I think I bothered my parents into buying the whole set. And there are at least—”

  “A hundred!” cried Shanna. “There are so many. I haven’t even read that many yet. But it’s wild. All those kids are getting kidnapped by aliens, and their parents don’t even know it.”

  “Or their parents are in on it.”

  Shanna shivered, then grimaced. “Parents would be in on it. I bet my dad wouldn’t have been, though.”

  A beat passed, and Tucker spoke before he could stop himself. “Where is your dad, speaking of?”

  “I don’t know.” Shanna gave him the same tight-lipped look that Avery had given him earlier. “I haven’t met him. Hey, are those pancakes ready to flip?”

  Fifteen minutes later, he followed Shanna up the stairs, carrying the tray. They’d come up with quite the breakfast in bed—one small plate loaded with bacon, three pancakes, and some scrambled eggs. They stopped outside the master bedroom and he handed the tray to Shanna, then helped her open the door.

  “Rise and shine, Mom!”

  He followed Shanna in, knowing the instant he crossed the threshold that it was a mistake.

  Avery sat up in bed, clutching the blankets to her chest. She wore a black tank top to sleep, her dark hair deliciously wild, and Tucker was hit full force with the memory of how she looked naked. Of course, that would have been ten years ago now. How had she changed, since having a child? The urge to know, to drink in every inch of her, was the most powerful thing he’d felt in years. Avery’s face turned scarlet.

  “Hey, honey,” she said, her voice husky with sleep. “Did you make breakfast?”

  “Yeah.” Shanna went over and put the tray on Avery’s lap, forcing her to let go of the blanket. “And Tucker helped.”

  “Did he?”

  “Only a little.” He tipped an imaginary hat to her and left. It was the gentlemanly thing to do—to give her a bit of privacy. Tucker went down to the kitchen and helped himself to some pancakes and eggs, adding one strip of bacon at the last second. He ate alone. Shanna must’ve curled up in bed next to Avery, because their muffled voices floated down from above his head.