The Cowboy's Little Girl. Kat Brookes

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       Chapter Three

      “Are my uncles coming for pancakes today?”

      Tucker looked to Blue who was seated across the table from him next to her aunt Autumn. A large lace bow now held her curls in place as they trailed down her back in a neat ponytail. She’d changed out of her nightgown and into a fancy ruffled dress. “Not today, sweetheart.”

      “Don’t they like pancakes?” she asked with a worried frown.

      He could understand why she might think that. His brothers hadn’t stuck around the morning before after discovering they had a niece partially because they felt they needed to give Tucker some time alone with his “guests.” But he knew, having experienced the same shock of discovering Blue’s existence, that Garrett and Jackson probably needed a little time to process everything. “Your uncles have to check on the horses and see to a few fence repairs.”

      “I don’t like horses,” Blue said with a frown, a sticky drop of pancake syrup clinging to her tiny chin.

      Tucker’s smile sagged with his daughter’s announcement. How could a child conceived by two parents whose lives had once revolved solely around horses dislike them? More important, how was he supposed to see to it that his daughter was happy there at the ranch when she had an aversion to the very thing that put food on the table for his family? Her family.

      Autumn picked up her napkin, dipped it into her water glass and then dabbed at the sticky syrup that had dribbled down Blue’s chin. “Sweetie, we talked about this on the way here. You can’t blame Alamo for what happened.”

      “Alamo?” he asked as he watched the ease with which Summer’s sister cared for his daughter.

      “Mommy’s horse,” Blue replied as she stabbed at another piece of syrup-laced pancake.

      “The horse she was riding the day of the accident,” Autumn explained as she set the damp paper napkin down next to her plate. “She hadn’t owned Alamo all that long, so she had no way of knowing how he would react to being spooked. I have to imagine that most horses would be a little shaken up by a snake in their path.”

      He nodded. “Some horses tend to be afraid of snakes. Some aren’t.” His horse wasn’t, but Hoss knew enough to give a snake a wide berth if they happened to cross paths. Same went with Little Joe, his more recently acquired saddle horse. “If only she’d been riding Cinnamon,” he muttered with a frown. “He’d never been prone to spooking.” One of the best quarter horses he’d come across in both manner and spirit.

      “There have been far too many if onlys in our lives lately,” Autumn responded with a sigh, her gaze shifting to Blue. Then she looked back to Tucker, a hint of something that could only be described as condemnation in her eyes. “She had to sell Cinnamon after Blue was born.”

      “Why?” he asked, unable to comprehend his wife ever parting with her beloved horse.

      Autumn’s pretty mouth twisted in a sign of irritation and one slender brow lifted.

      “Babies take money, Mr. Wade,” Autumn pointed out. “Medical bills, diapers, formula. Then there’s childcare, because as a single parent, Summer had no choice but to work to keep a roof over their heads. So, as you see, my sister had no choice but to sell her horse.”

      Was she attempting to point blame in his direction for the difficulty Summer had gone through? Because it felt an awful lot like she was. “She had a choice,” he said with forced calmness. He might not know much about raising children, but he knew enough to keep adult issues between adults. “I’d be more than happy to discuss it with you further at a more appropriate time,” he said with a nod toward Blue, who seemed totally oblivious to the conversation going on around her. Her interest lay in swiping up every bit of the remaining syrup on her plate with her fingertip.

      As if just realizing what she was doing, Autumn reached once more for her damp napkin. “Sweetie, it’s not polite to lick the syrup off your finger.” Taking his daughter’s hand in hers, she proceeded to wipe it clean.

      Blue’s tiny mouth fell into a pout. “But I get to lick cotton candy off my fingers. And icing. And—”

      “That’s different,” Autumn replied, a hint of frustration in her voice. She set the napkin down and stood, collecting both hers and Blue’s plates and forks. “You’re still sticky,” she told her as she turned and started for the sink. “Why don’t you run on into the bathroom and wash your hands with soap and water while I do up these dishes?”

      “There’s no need for you to do that,” Tucker countered, his thoughts still dwelling on the fact that she blamed him for Summer’s having to struggle financially.

      Blue shifted in her chair, her gaze trailing after her aunt. “Can we go pick flowers afterward?”

      Autumn shook her head. “It’s October, sweetie. Not a very good time of year to be searching for СКАЧАТЬ