The Cowgirl's Forever Family

“She’s so beautiful,” Brooke Laughton said with a sigh.

Yeah...women and babies...it never failed to be one of the wonders of the world.

He knew she was thirty-two, never married and without children. She looked very much like an independent, spirited woman who could look after herself. And yet, there was a softness in her expression as she gazed upon her sleeping niece.

“Yes, she is,” Tyler said quietly. “Like all babies, I imagine.”

She glanced at him. “Do you have any?”

“Kids?” He shook his head. “No.”

“Me, either,” she said softly. “Is she okay... I mean, healthy?”

“Perfectly,” he replied. “She eats well and is generally a happy baby.”

Her brows rose. “You’ve spent a lot of time with her?”

“Since Yelena died? Yes, I have. I had a nanny looking after her at the Jürgenses’ Manhattan apartment but I have tried to see her every day. Ralph is old and not in good health, as I said.”

“Does he agree with your decision to bring her here?”

“He does now,” Tyler replied. “Yelena wanted her daughter to be raised by family. And that family is now your brother.”

* * *

And me...

Brooke’s heart was pounding so hard she was sure the man beside her could hear it.

Cara’s peaceful expression tugged at her, deep down. Her niece. Her family. It seemed like someone had just handed her the moon.

And that someone took the shape of the tall and handsome man now standing barely a foot away from her. He had green eyes, she noticed. And his hair was like the color of Beechwood honey. He had the kind of broad-shouldered, long-limbed build that had always attracted her. Still, he was a bit of a pretty boy. There was nothing weathered about his face. Nothing other than perfect symmetry and a strong jawline.

She looked at the baby again and something uncurled inside Brooke, a kind of deep yearning that took root way down in her womb. “How old is she?”

“Eleven months and three weeks,” he replied. “She’ll turn one at the end of next week. She was born on Christmas day.”

What a wonderful gift, Brooke thought. “Is she walking?”

“Wobbling,” he said, grinning fractionally, and a dimple appeared in his cheek.

Damn...she’d always been a sucker for dimples. “She looks so peaceful,” she said, quickly ignoring him, his green eyes and his dimples.

“Say that when she wakes you up at five in the morning.”

She sat on the coffee table and took a deep breath. Cara’s hands rested against the edge of the blanket and Brooke reached out to stroke her thumb. The baby moved and then sighed and her fingers softly curled around Brooke’s. A feeling unlike any she’d known before uncurled in her chest. This child was her blood. And in that moment she knew she would do whatever she had to, to make sure Cara was raised on the ranch that had been in the Laughton family for five generations.

Which meant she had to contact her brother. And fast.

“Thank you for bringing her here, Mr. Madden. Cara will be well cared for, I assure you.”

“It’s my job to see that she is,” he said quietly and took a seat beside the sleeping child.

Brooke realized that their knees were almost touching. She also realized it was the closest she’d been to a man for over two years. Since Doyle had left. Or since he’d traded her for a woman who could give him what she couldn’t. She pushed past the sudden surge of emptiness in her heart. For the moment she had only one priority, and that was her niece.

“Where is he?”

Brooke lifted her gaze and met Tyler Madden’s inquiring stare. “Matt?” She shook her head. “I told you, I don’t know where he is.”

“So, you’ve had no contact with him for five years?”

“I didn’t say that,” she replied. “I haven’t seen him for five years. But he sends me a message each week.”

“In what form?” he asked, his gaze narrowing. “Email? Smoke signal?”

He really was a lawyer, she thought irritably. He was as condescending as they came. Brooke got to her feet and moved back to the chair. “Text message.”

“You have his phone number?”

“I have a number,” she said. “Whenever I’ve tried to call, it always goes to a voice mail. I’m sure it’s just a burner cell he keeps to let me know he’s okay.”

“Can you call the number now?”

“And say what?” She shot back. “‘Hey, Matt, you’d better get your butt back home pronto because you’re a daddy’?”

“That should do it.”

Brooke’s patience frayed. “Look, Mr. Madden, I know you—”

“Tyler.”

“What?”

“That’s my name.”

Brooke glared at him. He really was annoying. “I think we should keep this professional.”

He laughed softly. “You’re not my client, Brooke,” he said and tucked the blanket back around the baby. “Neither is your brother. Ralph Jürgens is my client, and Cara’s welfare is my priority. So, now we have that settled, I would appreciate it if you would make the call to Matthew.”

Brooke got to her feet. There was no point being stubborn and antagonizing him. “Okay. I’ll make a call.”

She left the room and got to the kitchen in double quick time. Then she came to an abrupt halt and gripped the back of a chair for support. There was a man and a baby in her house! It was enough to make her hyperventilate. Brooke grabbed her phone off the big scrubbed table and flicked through to her messages. Matt had left his last message four days ago.

Hi. All good here. Speak soon. M

It was as vague as any he’d sent over the years. Brooke dialed the number and waited for the familiar peal of an unanswered call. She left a message asking him to call her back, and then tucked the phone into her pocket and walked back into the living room. And stopped in her tracks.

Tyler Madden was sitting on the sofa and Cara was cradled in his arms. Brooke swallowed hard. Her belly and her heart were foolishly doing somersaults. This man was a stranger. And worse...a lawyer. He had a job to do, that’s all. Thinking he looked too sexy for words was just plain old stupid. And she wasn’t a stupid woman. She’d stopped being stupid the day her ex had sprinted out the door.