The Cowboy's Little Girl. Kat Brookes

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      The only time he’d ever come close to passing out had been when he’d gotten bucked off Little Cyclone during the Pioneer Days Rodeo up in Lander several years back. Landing on your head in a rodeo was cause for a little head spinning, yet he hadn’t gone down. He was made of sturdier stock than that. However, the little bombshell Autumn Myers had dropped on him just moments before had nearly managed to do what Little Cyclone hadn’t been able to—bring this Montana-bred cowboy to his knees. Nearly.

      Tucker shook his head. “No need.”

      “You’re really tall,” Blue announced, craning her neck as she stood peering up at him.

      He chuckled at Blue’s observation, thankful that some of her shyness seemed to be easing up around him. “Not as tall as my brothers. Your uncles,” he clarified. “They both top six foot. I’m only five foot eleven.

      “I have uncles?” his daughter said excitedly.

      It was hard not to let the injustice of what his wife had done, shutting him out of their child’s life, seep into his tone. Summer had denied his parents the chance to get to know their only grandchild, and his brothers the opportunity to spoil their niece. “Two of them,” he said with surprising calm, as the anger he’d once felt toward Summer after she’d walked out on their marriage returned to simmer just below the surface of his lighthearted demeanor.

      “Do they live here, too?” asked Blue, looking around.

      “No,” he said. “This is my place. Your uncles have homes of their own that they live in on the ranch.”

      His daughter looked out over the land surrounding them. “I don’t see them.”

      “That’s because they’re spread out across our family’s nine-thousand-plus-acre ranch.”

      “What’s an acre?”

      “It’s a measurement of land,” Autumn explained.

      “Do we have acres?”

      “We do,” she answered, glancing around. “But your daddy’s property is a whole lot bigger than ours back in Cheyenne. We only have forty acres there and far fewer trees.”

      Blue swung her curious gaze back in his direction. “Do you have a swing set behind your house?”

      “I’m afraid not,” he said. “Never had the need for one.”

      She turned to her aunt. “Can I bring mine here if my daddy wants me to live with him?”

      Autumn’s eyes shot up to lock with his, a frown pulling at her glossy pink lips. “My sister’s last request,” she explained. “One I’m struggling to honor.”

      He hadn’t even given that any thought. Tucker knelt in front of his daughter and took her tiny hand in his. “Of course, I want you to come live with me. I would’ve brought you here to live with me sooner if I had known about you.” He looked to Autumn. “Thank you for bringing her home.”

      “Home is yet to be decided,” she said stiffly. “I’m only here because my sister asked me to let you know about Blue. I’m not about to leave my niece in anyone else’s care, not even yours, until I know in my heart that you’re capable of doing right by her.”

      And he wasn’t about to lose his daughter after only just finding her. “Understood,” he answered with a nod, appreciating the protective stance she’d taken when it came to Blue. “But you should understand, too, that I intend to do whatever it takes to have my daughter in my life.” Autumn Myers was about to learn that her niece’s daddy was a man of his word. One worthy of the daughter the good Lord had blessed him with.

      * * *

      Autumn drew the quilt atop Tucker’s guest bed up over her niece and then tucked it in snugly around her tiny form.

      Blue gave a sleepy smile. “’Night, Aunt Autumn.”

      “Sleep tight, sweetie,” she said, leaning in to kiss the top of Blue’s head. Then she walked over to the suitcase she’d packed Blue’s clothes in for their trip there. She’d chosen to bring a good week’s worth of outfits, not knowing if they would be staying but deciding it was best to be prepared just in case. It seemed tonight, at least, they would be staying.

      When Tucker had invited them into his home, even going so far as to fix them grilled cheese sandwiches because Blue had told him they hadn’t eaten dinner yet, her niece had barely been able to keep her eyes open. Autumn had decided it best to call it a night and set up a time to meet with Tucker the following day. She’d had every intention of taking Blue to one of the nearby hotels she’d called before coming to Bent Creek to check on room availability, but Tucker had insisted they take one of his guest rooms.

      When she’d politely refused Tucker’s offer, not wanting to impose, he’d told her that his house was Blue’s as well, and it was long past time she had a chance to stay there. He topped that statement off with a heartfelt please before adding that he intended to take himself out to the barn to sleep on the cot he’d set up a few weeks prior when he’d wanted to watch over one of his horses that had been under the weather at the time.

      Not quite the actions of a selfish, responsibility-shirking cowboy, which she had believed him to be for the past five-plus years. He appeared to be quite the opposite. At least, when it came to first impressions. Tucker had accepted Blue into his life without a moment’s hesitation, seemed more than willing to prove himself and had even offered to sleep in the barn to give them some privacy. All of that and a soft spot for animals. Throw in that rugged cowboy look that both she and Summer had always been drawn to, something Autumn had learned was best to avoid. What was there not to like? Other than the fact that Tucker Wade’s very existence could mean a lifetime of heartache for her if Blue ended up being raised by her daddy.

      Autumn busied herself with getting Blue’s clothes ready for the next day, hoping to take her mind off the handsome cowboy who had managed to steal at least a piece of her sister’s well-guarded heart.

      “Does my daddy have horses?” Blue asked sleepily.

      Her daddy. How odd those words sounded coming from her niece, Autumn thought, struggling not to frown. “I thought you were sleeping.”

      “I am,” her niece replied. “Almost. Does he?”

      “He does,” she answered. “In fact, your daddy has a ranch filled with them.” From what she’d learned, Tucker Wade and his brothers were stock contractors for rodeos, dealing specifically in the horses used for events like saddle bronc and bareback bronc riding. Apparently, Summer had been keeping tabs on her husband from afar, collecting news clippings, and even a detailed report from the private investigator her sister had hired the year before, unbeknownst to Autumn. They all showed a man who was hardworking, always willing to lend a hand to help those in need and a man of unbending faith. He’d retired from the rodeo circuit to run stock horses with his two brothers.

      “But I didn’t see any.”

      “Maybe because you were fast asleep when we pulled in. Besides, they were probably off running through the hills.”

      “I don’t like horses.”

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