A Cowboy To Call Daddy. Sasha Summers

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      Deacon groaned. “Don’t make her more appealing than she already is.”

      Toben’s laugh grated on Archer’s nerves.

      “You know she’s an actual person? Here for work?” He glanced at the woman carrying on a conversation with Fester. “It is possible she has no interest in you.”

      “It’s possible. But highly unlikely.” Toben nudged Archer, winking.

      Archer glared at him.

      “Oh, come on, Archer. Just because you’re a monk doesn’t mean the rest of us are.” Toben shook his head. “You’re gonna have a hell of a time catching up to your brothers if you don’t get to work soon.”

      Archer’s glare didn’t waver until Toben had disappeared around the end of the shed.

      “He’s a dick,” Deacon said, clapping Archer on the shoulder.

      Archer nodded at his cousin. Deacon had lost his wife and daughters in a car crash two years before. Since then, he’d been wandering, working a few months here and there, helping Archer when he felt the need to plant roots. Unlike Toben, Deacon kept to himself, stayed out of trouble and had a way with horses. Archer understood Deacon, liked him. Unlike Toben.

      But he understood few people. That included the rest of his family. He didn’t need anyone telling him what to do with his life. If, and it was a big if, he ever found a woman who sparked his interest—romantically—there was no guarantee he’d want children. He knew his limitations. A wife, children, emotional entanglements, were things he had a hard time imagining in his future. He was fine as he was.

      Lucky barked, drawing Archer’s attention.

      He glanced down at the dog’s eager expression. “You can bite him,” Archer offered. “He may be family, but his head is firmly up his ass.”

      Deacon laughed as he made his way back up the fence line to the hay barn.

      Lucky’s stubby tail wagged frantically, drawing a smile from Archer. Lucky was a good dog. Technically, Lucky was his brother Fisher’s dog. But Lucky had decided the whole ranch was his home. A month ago, Archer had woken to Lucky scratching on the front door of his cabin. They’d enjoyed their breakfast together on the front porch, and the dog had been at his heels ever since.

      Lucky barked, peering around Archer to stare at the entrance to the refuge. A blue minivan came bouncing along the road, kicking up a steady stream of red dust in its wake. When the vehicle turned under the arch, he expected it to turn around—most people wound up here by accident. Instead, the vehicle pulled up to the administrative office and parked. Archer headed toward the van, hoping it wasn’t some salesman.

      “Clara?” There was no denying the relief in Eden’s voice. Archer waited, watching her cross the yard—leaving Fester with ears twitching and his head high—toward the minivan.

      “Eden.” A woman slipped from the car and they hugged. “What a journey. Your little misses have been such troupers, though. All smiles and sweetness, like their mother.”

      Eden smiled sadly. “I’m so sorry you had to make the trip alone. There are times I think I should drag him back to court for sole custody.”

      Archer watched; Eden’s frustration was unmistakable.

      “Don’t fret now, we’re here.” The older woman squeezed her shoulders. “Your little misses are tickled to be back with their momma.”

      The van door opened and a giggle of pure delight floated out. Lucky whimpered, running around Archer’s legs in circles as the giggling went on.

      Eden was smiling. So beautiful. So...sweet.

      Archer blew out a deep breath, grappling with a strange tightness in his chest.

      “Did you miss me?” she asked, reaching into the minivan. Minutes later she emerged with a curly-haired girl in her arms.

      “Mommy,” the little girl cooed, hugging Eden as if her life depended on it. “Mommy.”

      “I’ve got you,” Eden said. “Did you ride on a big airplane?”

      The little girl nodded, still holding her tightly.

      “Where are we?” the little girl asked.

      “We are...we are on a horse ranch,” Eden said.

      “We staying here?” the little girl asked.

      “No, no, Ivy,” the other woman said. “We will stay in the big house on the hill.”

      “Do you want to see the horses?” Eden asked.

      The girl nodded, smiling.

      Archer had only nephews. So this tiny golden girl was oddly captivating. And when she reached out toward the fence where Fester stood, his heart thudded against his ribs. She was fragile and delicate, even if her excitement and energy made her ten times bigger. But when Eden carried her daughter in the direction of Fester, Archer blocked her path. “Miss Caraway...” His voice faded to a stop as two pairs of light hazel eyes regarded him steadily.

      “Who that?” the little girl asked, smiling broadly.

      “This is Dr. Boone, Ivy. Dr. Boone, this is my daughter Ivy.” She shifted the little girl, smiling that bone-melting smile at her daughter.

      “We seeing the horses,” Ivy said. “Wanna come?”

      Archer glanced at the little girl. Resisting Ivy’s enthusiasm was a challenge. She was adorable. But the smile on his face tightened when he thought of Ivy’s little fingers anywhere close to Fester’s mouth.

      A cry came from the minivan, drawing all eyes—and a high-pitched whinny from Fester.

      “Lily’s wake,” Ivy announced. “My baby.”

      “Baby?” Archer repeated.

      “My other daughter, Lily,” Eden explained.

      Other daughter. Her words came back to him then. She had two. He’d heard the custody comment. So Eden Caraway was divorced and the girls’ father wasn’t carrying his weight. Which helped explain why she had no time for anything else.

      “Pretty horsey.” Ivy clapped.

      Fester whinnied again, prancing along the fence line. Big, powerful and far too dangerous for Ivy. “Now is not the time, Miss Caraway. I suggest you take your lunch break and help settle your children at the Lodge.”

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