The Texas Rancher's New Family

She grinned up at her father. “That’s me.”

“They’re called blondies, and a lady in town said they were her absolute favorite. I knew right then I needed some for my little lady on her birthday.” Glenno produced a plate, and Cooper slid one of the goodies onto it and in front of Sophie. “I’ve barely mastered the ponytail, sunshine, and now you want two?”

“And braids.”

Cooper laughed. “I’m pretty sure braids are beyond me.”

“Oh, Daddy,” Sophie said after a hearty “Mmm” to go with her first bite of the confection, “nothin’s too hard for you. Not even French braids.”

Cooper looked at Glenno. “What’s a French braid?”

Glenno smirked. “Harder than a regular braid, I expect.”

Sophie unleashed her hair from the uneven tangles and placed the glittery holders on the counter in front of Cooper. “I want to wear pigtails on my birthday tomorrow. Can’t you try? Please?”

Cooper had watched his fair share of how-to videos just to master the ponytail—an irony not lost on a horse trainer. Still, all those curls atop a wiggly five-year-old, combined with the challenge of maneuvering those impossibly tiny elastics, made two pigtails feel nearly impossible. Still, this was Sophie. How could he say no?

“I’ll look it up tonight and we’ll give it a whirl tomorrow.” He thought about Tess Buckton, the pretty neighbor he’d just met. She had long hair. Maybe he could override his “keep to yourself” rule in the name of birthday hair.

Then he remembered Luke Buckton’s none-too-neighborly glare as he’d left the bakery.

Maybe not.

Chapter Two (#uc92f9a23-bffc-57bf-a886-3c9a261c7cb3)

The next morning, Tess pulled a Blue Thorn Ranch truck up to the main house after being buzzed in at the Larkey ranch. She’d have to stop calling it that if Cooper stayed. It had been the Larkey ranch—often said with a derisive sneer for the wily, backstabbing former owner—for her whole life. Well, lots of things were changing around here. The loss of Larkey as a neighbor could only fall into the positive column as far as she was concerned.

She adjusted the basket on her arm and rang the doorbell on the big, beautiful old home. A startling squeal—a distinctly little-girl sound—came from inside the house. Could it be that Cooper Pine’s little lady really was little? The thought surprised her as Cooper’s face peered through the door’s small upper window before he pulled the door open. “Well, hello there.”

“You said it was somebody’s birthday. Blondies—even Lolly’s—aren’t enough for a birthday in my book. So I brought over some Buckton brownies.” She held out the basket. “Welcome to the neighborhood.”

“Well,” Cooper said, looking genuinely surprised, “look here. Buckton birthday brownies.”

From behind him came the smiling face of a young girl—eyes as green as her father’s, but with a wild tousle of strawberry-blond curls rather than Cooper’s darker hair. Definitely Cooper Pine’s daughter. Was she the birthday girl? Or was it her mother, whom Tess thought was probably back somewhere in the house—maybe in the kitchen, munching down a blondie?

Then came an odd clicking sound as a pair of Canadian crutches came into view, flanking the ruffles of a frilly party dress. Tess told herself not to stare as the ruffled skirt ended in only one white cowboy boot.

Cooper was clearly accustomed to smoothing over such moments for his daughter. “Sophie, this is the lady who told me about Lolly’s blondies.”

Sophie’s eyes grew wide. “They were super yummy!”

Tess felt a smile spread easily to her face. “I know. They’re among my favorites. But another of my favorites is my grandmother’s brownies, and she insisted I bring some over when she learned there was a birthday girl in the house today.”

“I’m six now,” pronounced Sophie with regal emphasis. So the birthday was hers. “That means I go to first grade in the fall.” She shifted on the crutches to show off her solitary boot. “Do you like ’em? They’re my birthday present.”

There was something brave and bittersweet in how the child referred to her single boot as a pair. Tess liked her immediately, feeling guilty for her momentary stumble. “Mighty nice,” she said. “I’ve always felt white boots were extra special. Never had white ones myself—you must be extra special.”

She’d called a little boy in Adelaide “extra special”—a little boy she’d never get to buy birthday presents for now—and the words sat bittersweet on her tongue.

Sophie, oblivious to Tess’s memories, somehow executed a twirl on the crutches. It flounced her ruffled skirt out in girly splendor. “Thanks. Daddy says so all the time.”

Still no mention of a “Mommy.” And this “Daddy” was not the Cooper Pine of the Pine Method empire or the man with the gleaming toothy smile from the television show. His off-camera persona was quieter, calmer, less imposing, but still in full possession of the charisma she imagined made him a star. And probably won him the heart of some strawberry-blonde who had given him this beautiful daughter. So where was the mother? The noise and chatter at their doorstep would have sent most women Tess knew out to see what was going on.

“Good for Dad,” she said. “I don’t mean to interrupt if you’ve got a party planned.”

“Can you braid?” the little girl asked.

“Huh?”

Sophie tugged on her curls. “Braid. Hair.”

Cooper shrugged. “I’m kind of out of my league here, and someone wants birthday braids.”

But wouldn’t her mother...? Oh, Tess thought with a momentary shock of understanding, remembering being a little girl herself with no mother to fix her hair anymore. Apparently this precious child was Cooper’s one and only little lady, after all.

Tess stared down at those sweet eyes. “Birthday brownies and braids, that’s me.”

“Well, then,” said Cooper as he gestured her inside, “come on in. As a matter of fact, your timing is downright great. Glenno will want to know if we got the blondies right, and you’re just the taste-tester we need.”

“You’re right!” Sophie cheered, suddenly taking off down the hallway in a tumbling three-legged canter that Tess had to admire. “Glenno! Glenno!” Her cries echoed as she disappeared to another part of the house.

“Our cook, among other things,” Cooper explained as he relieved Tess of the basket. “I call Glenno our culinary lyrebird. Likes to figure out other people’s recipes and imitate them. I gave him one of the blondies yesterday.” He looked down at the basket. “Um...these aren’t a secret family recipe, are they?”

Tess felt a little knot pull at her stomach. “As a matter of fact...”

Cooper pulled open a door on a hallway credenza and slipped the basket in. “I’ll hide ’em for now. Later, Sophie and I will dig in on the sly.” He tapped the door shut with his cowboy boot. “No point baiting Glenno’s curiosity.”

Tess heard the click-click-clop of Sophie’s boot and crutches long before the girl popped up from around a corner down the hall. “Are you coming yet? Glenno thinks he got it on the first try.”

Tess threw a sideways glance to her “host.”

“I doubt Lolly will be happy to hear that.”

The resulting grin did belong on a charming television star. “I won’t tell if you don’t.”

* * *

By the time Cooper led his short-order hairstylist to the kitchen, Sophie was seated on one of four stools in front of a kitchen island, her crutches dispatched to a nearby corner. She spun on the stool’s swivel seat, her leg swinging in anticipation.

“I’ve got a niece not too far from your age at Blue Thorn, you know,” said Tess. “You’d like Audie.”

A friend? Cooper pondered the possibility. His travel schedule hadn’t afforded Sophie many chances to make friends—one of many things he was set to change—and one just across the road would be a blessing. All Sophie really needed was one soul her age who would see past the crutches to the treasure that was his darling daughter.

“Miss Tess,” Sophie said in an amusingly formal tone, “this is Glenno. He’s kinda everything.”

“G’day to you.” Cooper watched Glenno chuckle at the “job description” as he extended a hand in greeting. “From the Buckton place, eh?”

Cooper had heard bits and pieces of the past tension between the former owner of this property and the Buckton family. Sophie neither knew nor cared about such neighbor relations. She simply grabbed the plate from one end of the counter and pulled it toward the middle open stool. “Taste ’em.”