Chapter 1
Six months later
“You’ll be all right for a few days?” I crouch on my knees and wiggle the pink bunny in front of my seven-year-old daughter.
Daughter. My daughter.
Two words I’ve had to get used to saying together in the last few months, after Ellie’s grandfather tracked me down at my ranch and told me about a child I had with an old fling.
It was the best and worst time for him to give me the news. I was three months into mourning Millie, still heavy in grief.
It’s a miracle Cole and Maya Hartly entrusted me with their granddaughter—the only thing left of their daughter, Tammy. They’ve been taking care of Ellie since her mother passed away three years ago.
It’s still hard to believe the sassy, sharp-tongued singer I met just outside of town—way before Millie—would leave me with a little girl who’ll be in my heart forever, and yet never know her mother the way I should have.
She nods, her reddish-brown Shirley Temple curls bouncing as she does. “Why are you going again?”
My heart breaks a little. I never want her to feel she’s being left behind. It’s only for a few days but it’s still not ideal when I’m trying to convince this girl I’m not going anywhere.
Like her mother.
Like her grandparents.
Not that they had any choice. Maya’s diagnosis has had them traveling back and forth between New York and Florida for treatment. But lately, it’s become too much for Maya, so they’ve made the decision to settle down south for good.
I remove my black cowboy hat, setting it down at my side, running a hand through my dark hair. “Well, kiddo, you know winter is coming soon.”
“But it’s not even Halloween yet,” she whines.
“Yeah, but it’ll be here soon enough. And Uncle Wilder and I need to get ready. You know how we feed the cows hay in the winter when the grass is all dead and covered in snow?”
She nods. Ellie’s new to ranch life but catches on quickly.
“We have a supplier—someone who usually sells us a big ol’ pile of hay. But this year, his field didn’t grow enough of it. And we need a whole lot more than he’s offering.”
“Because you have a lot of horses,” she says with a sharp nod, a bit of life sneaking into her small voice. Ellie loves our horses like family. If paternity tests didn’t exist, that little fact would have convinced me just fine.
“Exactly. And your Grandpa Connor told us about a guy a few towns over who’s got good hay and really good prices, but he won’t hold them for long.”
“Can I come?”
I give a little grin. “I’ll be gone a few days. But Uncle Wilder and I can’t leave Rose alone. That woman tends to get into trouble when unsupervised.”
Ellie giggles.
“We need someone to keep an eye on her for us.” I wink. I have no doubt this little one’s going to tell on me but I’ve got a feeling Rose will get a kick out of it.
Ellie considers it for a moment. “Will you bring something back for me?”
I’ve known my daughter three months. She plays soccer, likes flowers, and is brave enough to give me a chance at being a dad. She’s got exactly one stuffed animal—Buttons—a pink bunny with several loose threads and not a single button.
“How about a new stuffy?”
Her eyes drop for a moment like she remembers something. When she frowns, I’m instantly on alert, like I’ve said something wrong. Like I’m undermining her worth by offering a stuffed toy for abandoning her for a few days.
She looks up at me with hopeful eyes. “Maybe when you come back, we could go pick up Piggy.”
I stare at her, wracking my brain to see if I can remember her mentioning a “Piggy” to me before.
“I left her on my bed to watch over all my things while I’m here.”
My lips part. Because it’s a reminder that we still don’t have all her stuff yet.
The custody transfer from the Hartlys to me is still in progress.
It shouldn’t take this long. Especially when both parties consent.
But between the traveling for Maya’s treatment and our social worker, Rachel, not wanting to push the matter on Cole, who’s been busy fighting to keep his wife alive, it’s taking longer.
Too long.
Because I’m not one who deals well with things floating in the air. No set dates. Nothing signed. Nothing but a damn test that says Ellie is mine.
“OK, but I’d hate to come back empty-handed. Is there anything you don’t have at your grandparents’ house that I can get you?”
Her expression turns mischievous and playful again, easing my tension.
I narrow my eyes at her. “What are you gettin’ at, young lady?”
She shrugs innocently. “If you can’t find something I’ll like, how about a horseback ride?”
“I’ve taken you on a ride before.”
“Where you stand beside me and walk the horse. I want to go faster and far.”
My chest clutches. “Let’s talk about it when I get back. But I’ll still try and bring something back for you,” I say, determined to stop somewhere on the way to grab a book or something she might like. “It’s a promise.”
She smiles with a seal-the-deal kind of nod.
“Now go grab your slippers, think I saw one under my bed and the other under yours.” I perk a brow.
Ellie’s an odd duck. All her socks somehow manage to match and pair perfectly, but her slippers can be found in the strangest of places, and rarely together.
She shrugs as if to say, who knows how that even happened? Then runs off.
I stand with a groan and look around the guest room of my brother’s house. It’s been six months since I moved in here after Millie’s death. Three of those months I spent either locked up in my room, or getting into fights at the local bar.
I was a shell of the man I used to be. The one who put Blue River Ranch before anything else. Sunrise to sundown, and then some. Even long before Dad retired.
Wilder’s a good partner, but there were times he’d had one foot out the door. He didn’t live and breathe it like Dad and I did.
But he sure proved me wrong this summer when he held the fort on his own.
Technically, he had some help—from Rose. His best friend’s sister from New York who agreed to lend a hand for the summer while working through personal demons of her own.
Didn’t take those two long to fall head over boots for each other.
Another reason I should go and finish that house. Rose moved in with Wilder at the end of the summer. And now that Cole and Maya are staying in Florida until her next treatment, I’ve got Ellie living with me full-time.
She knows about the new house. I’ve taken her over there a few times. Mostly showing her the outside. The views, the new barn I built to house my horses. The upstairs wasn’t quite ready for a child to walk around safely, but she got a good enough peek at the living space.
Now Ellie slides back into the room Jerry Maguire-style and I laugh, crouching down again to her height. “How ’bout I find you something nice for your new room at the house?”
She frowns and my world stops for a moment. The nagging fear she might be afraid to live alone with me—someone who’s still a stranger in many ways—surfaces.
There’s no “Rose” in our new house. A friendly, quirky female to be a buffer when I have no idea what I’m doing. To right my wrongs when Ellie’s walking around talking all nasally and I don’t think to get a tissue and make her blow.
She doesn’t answer—in fact, disappointment settles into her features.
“You think you might be OK with that? Living in that big ol’ house with me? We can still come have dinner with Aunt Rose and Uncle Wild some nights. Or . . . I can make some grilled cheeses, and it could just be you and me.”
She considers it for a moment. “OK, but I don’t want to wait that long. So if you get me something, I can just put it in my room here.”
I don’t know what’s the bigger gut punch. My daughter being afraid to live with me in that house—or her losing faith that I’d ever finish it.
I smooth the hair on her head. “It’s almost there, I promise.”
She nods again, but even for a seven-year-old, there’s doubt in her eyes.
I push a stray curl away from her face. “Want me to put this up for you?”
She pulls the scrunchie off her wrist, flings it to me and flips around. “Not too tight.”
“OK.” I straighten as I gather the loose curls before wrapping the bunch into a knot. “How’s that?”
She flicks her eyes upward. “This won’t survive monkeys on the bed.”
I chuckle and pull her toward me again. “Well, if you get the urge, Rose is right downstairs to fix it for you.”
“Thanks, Dallas.”
I swallow hard. “You bet, kid.”
“There they are,” Wesley calls out as Ellie and I make our way down for breakfast.
A longtime friend of Wilder’s and the ranch’s head chef, Wes is practically part of the family. He’s also Rose’s brother. The same one who twisted her arm into helping Wilder out this summer during my absence.
I can’t help but wonder how much he regrets that decision now, seeing his best friend and kid sister in a romcom with no off button.
“What you got cookin’?” I ask, noticing Ellie still holding my hand like I’m a flight risk.
I want nothing more than to assure her I’m not going anywhere. Not for long anyway. But I’m pretty certain her mother and grandparents thought they’d never have to leave her either.
I squeeze her hand right back.
“Rose and I made pancakes the Evans way,” he says, giving Ellie a wink and bumping hips with his sister.
Rose waves her spatula around. “Ellie, want to help me flip? Wes thinks a first-grader could do better than I can.”
My girl rushes over and Wes lifts her up, carefully positioning her in front of the stove as Rose hands her a silicone spatula.
I ignore Wilder’s watchful gaze and take the seat across from him at the kitchen table.
“She all right?” he asks quietly.
“Course she is.” I force a grin. “She’s got Rose with her for the next three nights.”
My brother flips a worried gaze toward his girlfriend. “Maybe I should stay too.”
“I heard that.” Rose sets a plate of pancakes at the center of the table. Half the batch are a perfect full-moon shape, the other more like melting-cheese half-moons. And one long one, almost spoon shape.