The Cowgirl's Forever Family

by Helen Lacey

  “She is,” he said and nodded. “You’re good with her. I’ve not seen her take to anyone as easily as she has taken to you.”

  “Like who?” Brooke asked curiously.

  “Her last nanny in particular.”

  Brooke bit back a smile. “You mean you didn’t take to the nanny, right?”

  He pushed himself off the door frame and stepped into the room. “She was like a drill instructor. And glacial. Poor kid didn’t get an ounce of affection from the woman.”

  Brooke’s heart contracted. “I defy anyone not to love this little girl. She’s so adorable and sweet. She chatters a lot, but does she say any actual words?”

  He shook his head. “Not really. If Yelena was alive I’m sure she’d be saying mama and probably trying to verbalize more than she does. Lately she’s become a little withdrawn. Natural, I suppose, considering what she’s lost. And the upheaval of coming all this way. She traveled well, but still, it’s a long haul for a baby.”

  “I think she’s remarkable,” Brooke said and dropped into the sofa beside her. “And I’m so glad she’s here, so I can get to know her.”

  “It’s just a shame she comes as a package deal, right?”

  Brooke met his gaze. “You’re not all bad, I’m sure.”

  “I have my uses I suppose.”

  Warmth crawled over her skin, despite the fact it was a cool morning. “No doubt. You said you could cook.”

  “Better than you, at least.”

  She was immediately affronted, but remained good-humored. “I’m a good cook.”

  He shook his head and grinned. “Ah...no, you’re not.”

  His candor amused her and she smiled a little. “I’ve never had anyone complain before.”

  “Perhaps they know you have a shotgun by the front door.”

  Brooke laughed and was amazed at how good it felt. There had been too few laughs in her life over the past couple of years. When she’d first met Doyle she’d been drawn to his energy and ability to make her laugh. Make her cry, as it turned out in the end. Losing her parents, Doyle and in a way her brother, had hardened her inside and made her wary of being vulnerable to anyone.

  But she felt vulnerable in that moment... To Cara. And to the man who, through circumstance, was now living in her home.

  “I’m a lousy shot anyhow,” she said and shrugged. “Probably on par with my cooking.”

  He smiled. “I wasn’t being critical.”

  “Sure seemed like it. But don’t worry... I’m not the kind of girl to take offense, Tyler.”

  He moved farther into the room and stood by the fireplace. “No? What kind of girl are you?”

  “Tough as nails,” she replied quickly and felt heat rise up over her skin again. “Thick-skinned. Robust. Resilient.”

  “That’s quite a list,” he said and met her gaze evenly. “Although, your skin is actually quite lovely.”

  Brooke’s cheeks burned foolishly. “I have freckles.”

  “Yes,” he said quietly. “I know.”

  Brooke felt the glow of his words spread from the roots of her hair through to the soles of her feet. A quiet, taunting voice warned her that she was way out of her league...that she had no idea how to handle a man like Tyler Madden. She knew she had to put an end to whatever was going on between them. “Stop flirting with me.”

  He laughed and the sound reached her way down. “I’m not,” he said easily as he walked to the window and looked outside. “Not really. You’re just—”

  “The only woman within a ten-mile radius,” she offered, cutting him off. “I get it.”

  He turned around and his green eyes glittered brilliantly. “You do?”

  She shrugged with as much indifference as she could muster, considering his gaze was piercing through her. “Sure... Cedar River isn’t exactly Grand Central Station in the opposite-sex department.”

  He laughed, as though he found her hilarious, when Brooke was entirely serious. She scowled and that only seemed to amplify his amusement. Brooke was about to lock horns with him but glanced toward the baby first, relieved to see Cara looking content and a little sleepy. She might only be a year old, but Brooke certainly didn’t want the baby picking up on any tension between herself and Tyler.

  “Is something funny?” she asked tightly, reining in her irritation.

  “I didn’t come to Cedar River looking to get laid, hooked up, married or otherwise,” he replied drily. “And if you’re inferring that I find you attractive because you’re the only woman in the immediate vicinity, you’re wrong.”

  She blinked. “You think I’m attractive?”

  He shrugged. “Of course. But it doesn’t really matter, does it?” he pointed out. “I’m here for one reason,” he said and gestured toward the baby. “With no intention of complicating things by acting on anything. We’re both smart people, Brooke...too smart to muddy the waters.”

  She wanted to feel indignation, outrage and plain old disbelief that he could stand before her and say the words so calmly, without so much as a blip in his deep timbre, his voice smooth. But her outrage was diluted by the realization that the sexual awareness she’d been experiencing for the past couple of days was mutual. Of course he was right...nothing could happen. Nothing would happen. But she couldn’t help thinking that in other circumstances, things might be very different.

  Brooke watched him, saw him plant his hands on his hips, and watched how his shoulders rose up and down as he breathed. His arms were well-defined and muscular and she couldn’t help thinking how much she’d like to feel them wrapped around her...even for a moment. There was strength in Tyler, the kind she hadn’t been around for a long time. Plus kindness and integrity. Only a man who possessed both those qualities would have traveled from the other side of the country to try and connect Cara with her father.

  “You’re right,” she said quietly, and then decided to dig a little deeper. “Tell me about Cara’s great-grandfather.”

  He frowned. “Ralph?”

  She nodded. “I’d like to know how you met.”

  “I told you,” he said flatly. “He was my court-appointed lawyer. We became friends and once I decided on a career in law he became my mentor.”

  “He must be very proud of you,” she remarked. “Considering all you have achieved.”

  “I couldn’t say.”

  He looked tense and Brooke was amazed how easily she could read his expression. “I don’t mean by the money or the fancy apartment. I mean by how you are with Cara. Bringing her here, caring for her the way you do...he must trust and respect you to leave her in your care. You’re remarkable with her and she lights up whenever she sees you... I imagine it will be hard for you to let her go.”

  He glanced toward the baby, who was happily lying on the sofa, chugging on the bottle. “I want what is best for her, that’s all. If that turns out to be your brother, then I will have no trouble leaving her in his care. Cara deserves to have a family and a parent who puts her above all others. If Matt can do that, if he can prove he is prepared to be a real father to her, then I’ll relinquish my guardianship. But frankly, the fact he hasn’t even responded to your calls demonstrates a serious lack of reliability.”

  Brooke’s insides tightened and she asked the question that was burning in her heart. “Would you consider leaving her here with me?”

  * * *

  No.

  Tyler held his tongue. He didn’t want to get into another argument with Brooke about her suitability as a caregiver for her niece. She had the best intentions, he was sure...but it took more than that to raise a child.

  “We’ll see what happens.”

  “I am capable of caring for a child,” she murmured and touched Cara’s head.

  “I don’t doubt it,” he replied. “I’m sure
you’ll make a fine mother one day.”

  She met his gaze head-on. There was a flash of hurt in her eyes that made his insides contract. He’d hit a nerve with his comment, he was sure of it. He didn’t know why, but he could speculate. She was thirty-two and childless...maybe her clock was ticking.

  “Have I said something I shouldn’t?” he asked quietly, feeling about as sensitive as a rock.

  She shook her head and shrugged a little. “No, of course not. So,” she said, changing the subject, “I have some fencing to get to today and should be gone for a few hours. Make yourself at home while I’m gone. The TV remote is on the coffee table and the refrigerator is full.”

  “Fencing?” he queried and glanced toward the window. “In this weather? It’s still snowing out there.”

  She shrugged again, firmer this time. “The work on a ranch doesn’t stop because of a little snow, city boy.”

  “Is that another crack at my profession?” he asked and raised his brows. “I imagine they have lawyers in small towns, including this one.”

  “Oh, there is,” she said and grinned sweetly. “But he’s no Harvard Law man like yourself. And he’s about as effective as a wet sock.”

  “I went to Columbia,” he corrected. “And if your lawyer’s a dud, get someone else.”

  “Werner is all I can afford. And he’s nice enough, but he’s just easily spooked.”

  “Spooked?” he queried.

  She shook her head. “Nothing... I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “It’s a little late to be coy, don’t you think? And if you’re in some kind of legal trouble, perhaps I can help.”

  She looked as though it was the last thing she wanted. “I’m not in trouble,” she assured him and patted Cara’s chest gently. “It’s under control and my lawyer is trying to keep the wolves at bay the best he can.”

  “The wolves?” he echoed. “You mean the bank?”

  She half nodded and got to her feet. “And any interested parties who think I’m vulnerable at the moment.”

  He didn’t imagine Brooke Laughton scared easily. But he wanted to know, regardless of his usual caution of knowing too much or getting too close to someone outside the boundaries of his work. Because, despite the situation with Cara, talking with Brooke didn’t feel like it was part of a job or a case. “Tell me what’s going on.”

  “No.”

  “I’m not your enemy,” he said softly. “And I’m a very good lawyer.”

  Her indigo eyes flashed. “And modest.”

  “In my experience professional modesty is counterproductive. My clients need to know I can confidently represent them at all times...even when it seems hopeless.”

  Her chin jolted up. “Clients who can afford you, of course.”

  “I’ve done my share of pro bono work, Brooke. And you can be assured that anything you say will remain confidential.”

  “I can’t. It’s complicated,” she insisted. “And no one’s business.”

  She got to her feet and walked around the sofa, arms crossed, back straight. Tyler watched her intently, absorbed by the graceful way she moved, like she was in no particular hurry. Maybe that’s what attracted him...the way she seemed calm and rock solid. Sure, she had a temper, but she mostly kept it under wraps and he admired that about her.

  When she got to the main window she stared out for a few seconds before turning back to him. Her eyes were bright, and there was pure frustration in her expression...like she wasn’t sure what she wanted to say. Admitting he was attracted to her probably hadn’t been the smartest move, but he didn’t want it to be an elephant in the room whenever they were together. Again, he marshaled his determination to ignore his emotions and focus only on business—no matter how difficult a task that might prove to be.

  “Brooke,” he said softly. “If your brother doesn’t show up I have to make a decision about Cara’s future. I’d like to make that decision knowing all the facts.”

  Her chin tilted. “I’m not on trial here, Counselor.”

  “No,” he replied. “You’ve made it clear that you think Matthew will show up and be a father to Cara. But it’s my decision, Brooke, and not a given. So the more I know, the better your chances.”

  She sucked in a deep breath and glared at him. She was clearly unhappy, and looked as though she was backed into a corner. Tyler felt a twinge of guilt hit him between the shoulder blades. But he was right to demand answers when Cara’s future was at stake.

  He watched as Brooke pushed back her shoulders and headed for the door. But she stopped in the doorway, her back straight and tense. After a moment she spoke.

  “Okay,” she said, not turning. “I’ll tell you everything. But later.”

  Then she left the room and Tyler didn’t move until he heard the front door close.

  Chapter Six

  Brooke had always believed that hard work was an antidote for stress and tension. And she needed stress relief after her last conversation with Tyler.

  So, he thinks I’m attractive and he’s blackmailed me into telling him all my business.

  Pulling her shirt collar up, she trudged toward the stables. She’d been too wound up when she left the house to remember her coat and was grateful she had another hanging on a hook near the stable door. Grabbing it off the peg, she slipped into it and closed the buttons.

  I don’t have time for this kind of drama.

  She was too sensible. Too levelheaded. Too busy trying to keep everything afloat, including herself. After her parents’ deaths she’d stopped competing professionally on the rodeo circuit and returned home, with Doyle, and was filled with determination to continue working the ranch as her father had done. For a few months everything had seemed like it would work out—she made plans with Doyle to continue her father’s legacy. But her plans quickly unraveled. Without Sky Dancer there was no breeding program and no income. Bills began piling up and creditors started calling night and day. Eighteen months later Doyle was gone, too. Since then she’d been treading water. Hoping. Praying. Waiting for it to all come crashing down while she tried to work out a way to salvage the only home she’d ever known. The only lifeline she had was to sell...but that was unthinkable. The ranch was in her blood and her bones and she wouldn’t let it go without giving the fight of her life.

  It was bitterly cold outside and for a few self-indulgent seconds she thought about being inside, curled up on the sofa in front of the fire, perhaps reading a book or having a quiet, relaxed conversation with someone.

  With Tyler.

  She shook the crazy idea from her thoughts. Finding each other attractive was one thing, acting on it was another thing altogether. Of course, she’d said she would tell him everything about the ranch and the accident...and she would. But for the next few hours she had to work out a way to get her attraction for Tyler out of her system.

  Easy.

  No problem.

  Consider it done!

  By the time she finished loading her truck with fencing gear she was sure she’d gotten over whatever it was that made her waste time thinking about Tyler’s green eyes and broad shoulders. And then she had another three hours to chastise herself while she drove the fence line and repaired several posts. Brooke liked the work and never felt out of her depth when she was outdoors. Inside activities were always more of a chore. Recently she’d been a bridesmaid at her cousin Grady’s wedding, and had felt so out of her comfort zone she was sure she’d had sweaty palms the entire day. Dressing up and wearing makeup and fancy clothes had never been her thing. Horses, wide-open spaces, jeans and a pair of comfy boots were more her style. Which was why thinking about Tyler Madden as anything other than Cara’s guardian was plain old crazy.

  By the time she got back to the stables it was half past ten and the snow had stopped falling. She packed the
gear away and haltered her old palomino mare, Sharnah. The horse was twenty-nine, but still in excellent health and Brooke took her out for a gentle ride once a week or so. She tacked the mare up, got into the saddle and headed out for a half-hour amble across the meadow.

  When she returned she felt better. More relaxed, more like herself. Until she spotted Tyler waiting by the corral, dressed in jeans, a blue checked shirt, boots, Stetson and the sheepskin coat she’d left out for him. He certainly filled out the clothes better than her ex-fiancé ever had. If the image wasn’t sexy enough, the fact he held Cara in his arms completed the picture and made her heart pound. The baby wore a hooded pink anorak with matching leggings and tiny mittens and looked so adorable Brooke was suddenly breathless.

  “Hi,” she said as she eased Sharnah to a halt beside the corral.

  “Hi yourself,” he said and propped a gurgling Cara on one hip. “Enjoy your ride?”

  Brooke nodded and then dismounted. “Yes...there’s something special about riding in the snow.”

  He smiled. “This old girl looks as though she’s seen a fair bit of snow in her days.”

  “This is Sharnah,” she explained and rubbed the mare gently on the muzzle. “And we’ve been together since I was seven years old.”

  “That’s quite a history,” he said and moved closer to the horse so that Cara could touch the mare’s neck with exploring fingers. “I take it she’s something of a favorite around here?”

  Brooke loosened the girth. “You could say that. She’s Sky Dancer’s mother. My dad bought her when she was four years old with a colt at foot.”

  He patted the mare’s neck and her gaze was instantly drawn to his hand smoothing down the horse’s coat. He had nice hands, she thought. Large and strong, not callused and rough like Doyle’s had been.

  “Do you ride her often?” he asked.

  “No. Just enough to keep her fit. She still enjoys getting out and when the day comes that I think she’s not enjoying it, I’ll happily see her permanently retired. I have several good mounts if you’re interested in having a ride while you’re here.”