The Texas Rancher's New Family

“Sure thing.” He watched her clip down the hall before turning to Tess. “Thanks for the burgers. And the invite.”

“You’re welcome.”

There was an odd, stretched-out moment where they realized they were alone together with nothing much to talk about. Tess shrugged and looked around the great room behind them. “You know, it’s not at all like I pictured it.”

“How’s that?”

He walked ahead of her into the room. The space had too much dark wood in it—the place needed lightening up in a million ways—but there was a solidness to the property Cooper could see under all the dated fixtures. When the rental manager had showed him the place as “a real bargain,” he’d had this inexplicable sense of him needing it and it needing him. Not that he’d ever voice anything so odd.

“We used to make up stories about the inside of this place when I was growing up.” She looked at the room with just a hint of the long-lost feeling he’d had at his first look.

It couldn’t be her first look—she’d grown up across the road from the place, hadn’t she? “You mean you’ve never seen the inside of the house before?”

“Dad and Mr. Larkey were never friends. My brothers and I used to dare each other to see how close we could get to this house before old man Larkey chased us off. Gunner told me he saw hunting trophies through the windows once, and we made up stories about how he got them.”

“There were two or three on the walls when I got here. I took them down before Sophie arrived.” He looked around the room, finding it still too dark and bare for the place Sophie would grow up.

“She’ll love Martins Gap. Sure, we’ve got some of the small-town gossipy stuff going on, but you’ll find most folks will take to her like ducks to water.” She turned to him, evidently deciding to be direct. “I’ll warn you, those burgers and the supper invitation come with strings attached. My family really wants to know what your plans are.”

That was no surprise. “Texans are a neighborly lot, but two visits in four days tells me y’all are seriously curious.” He used the colloquialism as a joke, but as soon as it was out of his mouth he realized it sounded absurd in his accent.

“Just so you know, you’ll be grilled Saturday night.” She went on. “In the most polite way possible, but grilled none the less. I figured it was fair to warn you.”

“Consider me warned,” he replied as he opened the doors that led out to the patio. She’d made a gesture on her part, he ought to do the same. “So I’ll say this. I’ve got plans under consideration. I’m just not of a mind to share them yet.” He tucked his hands into his pockets. “Will that be enough?”

She raised one eyebrow. “I doubt it.” She exhaled and sat on the low stone wall that surrounded the patio. “But I get what it’s like to not be ready to tell the whole world all your plans. The need to keep secrets. But my brothers are going to make it hard on you. You shouldn’t blame them—they’ve fought hard to keep the Blue Thorn going and to make it a success, and they’re afraid whatever you’ve got planned might be a threat.”

Cooper sat in one of the old wooden chairs that had been left with the property. “So you came to feed me, invite me and warn me?”

She smiled. “Well, yes. You should also know I think Audie could be a great friend to Sophie, and it’ll help if Gunner’s not suspicious of your motives.”

He stretched his legs out, crossing one boot over the other. “And what does Gunner think my motives are?”

“Honestly?”

“Straight up, mate. I’ve probably heard it all before anyway.”

Her back straightened. “He’s worried he’ll wake up one morning to a full-blown Piney fan festival out his front window. He thinks you’ll be bringing the whole TV thing here, complete with crowds and fuss.”

“That I’ll open a souvenir shop in town next to the Blue Thorn Store where he sells his stuff?” he continued, fully aware he was pushing her buttons. “How would that be different from what your family already does? Wouldn’t both offer products to the public that support a family ranch business?”

“I wouldn’t put a single store selling bison meat and yarn in the same boat as a franchise pitching arena shows, DVDs and T-shirts.” When he raised an eyebrow she added, “We don’t have a fan club.”

“So everyone expects me to be the showman Hunter is.”

“And you’re not?”

She had him there. He hadn’t given them any reason to think he didn’t share Hunter’s obsession with a high profile.

Still, that didn’t make his brother the bad guy here. He wasn’t even involved in what this ranch would become—even if he didn’t know that yet. “Hunter is my brother. I owe lots of what I have to him and what he’s done.”

He didn’t quite hide the unspoken “but...” tacked on the end of that thought. She evidently knew a dodge when she saw one. “Is he your partner in this? In whatever it is you’re thinking of doing here?”

He’d heard the Bucktons were stubborn, but he hadn’t expected Tess to be this relentless. And she was the one who seemed to be on his side! Just what was he in for on Saturday?

“I know you don’t owe us an explanation,” she said, softening her tone, “but it would help things if you told us what you aren’t doing here if you can’t tell us what you are going to be doing.”

Cooper didn’t like being pushed, but he also didn’t like starting off on the wrong foot with people who would be his neighbors and hopefully friends to Sophie. He pulled in a breath then let it out slowly. “You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

She frowned. “That’s not much to go on.”

“It’s not anything I want made public. At least, not yet. So that’s the best I can do. Even at a barbecue.”

“Well, I’m not going to take back the invitation, if that’s what you’re thinking. You’re still invited. And warned.” She paused for a second before offering him a startling smile, completely out of place given the tension of their conversation just now. “I hope you’ll come.”

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

Cooper’s second thoughts Saturday morning did not meet with Sophie’s approval. His daughter looked as if he’d plunged a knife through her tiny little heart when he suggested declining the Bucktons’ barbecue invitation. “Of course I want to go to the party!” she whined, draping herself across the couch in pint-size devastation. If he put his foot down and begged off, he’d have a miserable night here, that was clear. “I wanna go,” she moaned, limbs stricken akimbo in flailing disappointment. “I hafta go.”

Cooper began picking up the pieces of the game they had been playing. “You don’t hafta go anywhere. And it’s not a party. It’s just a supper.” A supper he doubted would be much fun for him, at least, even if it meant seeing Tess Buckton again. Then again, Sophie would meet Audie, and that was worth enduring the “grilling” Tess had said was coming, wasn’t it?

“It’s a barbecue. A bison barbecue. I’ve never been to one before.” One hand lay across her forehead in such a drama-queen pose Cooper wondered what movies she’d been watching. “And now I’ll never go.”

He tried to swallow his reluctance as he slid the lid onto the game box. “I know you like Miss Tess and all...”

“I love Miss Tess. I wanna meet the little girl at her ranch. She’d said we’d like each other.” Sophie didn’t have to actually say “and now you’re taking it all away” because her eyes screamed it at him. “Why’d you hafta fight with her?”

“We didn’t fight.”

Sophie sat up and crossed her arms over her chest. “She didn’t seem very happy when she came in the kitchen to say goodbye.”

“We had a discussion. Maybe a difference of opinion, but not a fight. That’s different.” He pointed at Sophie. “Just like you and I are having a difference of opinion right now.”

Sophie’s chin practically sank itself into her chest. “No, we’re fighting. Miss Tess invited us to a party and you’re saying we’re not going. Did she take her invitation back?”

Cooper made it a point never to lie to Sophie, which made her ability to ask just the wrong question all the more exasperating. Tess had, in fact, reiterated her invitation despite their tense discussion. “No, she didn’t, but it still won’t be any fun if we go.”

“It’d be fun for me,” Sophie said softly. Her tone pinched his heart hard. What father wants to disappoint his daughter? She was right, though—it probably would be fun for her, even if it might end up torture for him.

She looked up at him with her “sad puppy eyes,” her ultimate weapon against his willpower. Life had denied Sophie so much—a normal body, a mother to grow up with, family to surround her—he hated to be the one to deny her anything else.

“You really want to go?”

Clearly sensing he was weakening, she upped her game. In one move, she flung herself from the couch onto his lap. “More than anything. Pleeeeaaaasssseee can we?”

He knew that tone. The stubborn streak that got Sophie through the aftermath of her accident had a dark side, and he’d just landed in the middle of it. He’d hear that whiny request nonstop until he relented. Still, on things that really mattered, he could dig his heels in and be just as stubborn as Sophie.

But did this really matter? Could he tiptoe his way through a night of relentless Buckton questions if it meant Sophie could make friends with another girl near her age? It couldn’t get that bad—no one would want to launch an argument in front of the kids. If he showed up a bit late and only stayed until Sophie’s bedtime, surely he could stand it. I’ve been stepped on, bitten, thrown, knocked over and kicked by the worst horses on two continents, he reasoned. How bad could half a dozen Bucktons be?