A Cowgirl's Secret(9)

“Agreed. But there’s a lot going on here I didn’t expect to find.”

“Like what? Is she married with kids? Our flying out there isn’t a problem.”

Eyeing Daisy, Luke said, “I’m pretty sure she’d rather come to you.”

She nodded.

“She say as much?”

“Yeah.” Luke rubbed his whisker-stubbled jaw.

“Wouldn’t happen to be with her now, would you?”

“No.” Luke hated lying. Always had. Occasionally it was a necessary evil. For Kolt’s sake, Luke wanted to ease his boy into meeting the rest of his family. If the entire Buckhorn clan showed up at his front door, it could be overwhelming.

“Planning on seeing her before you head back?”

“Yeah.”

“Kindly tell her she has twenty-four hours to get her butt to this ranch, or—”

Daisy snapped, “Give me the phone.”

Sure? Luke mouthed.

Ignoring him, she lunged for it. “Dallas Buckhorn, your blow-and-go routine won’t work on me. I’m sorry for what I did to all of you—truly, I am. But I’ll be back in my own time.” She paused to listen, tears pooling her eyes. “I know. Please tell Mom I love her and promise to be home soon.” After a few more minutes’ conversation, she hung up only to run off to the bathroom.

It took everything Luke had in him not to chase her.

But why should he? The amount of emotional baggage between them could fill this swanky place clear to the rafters.

Sighing, he propped his elbows on the table, staring out at the unnatural view. If God had meant for folks to eat breakfast over water, He’d have given them webbed feet. Still, he supposed the bay was all right to look at in its own sort of way. It seemed restless. Like he felt.

A few minutes later, Daisy returned looking composed.

“All right?” he asked more because of his upbringing than because he cared. His mother had raised him to be a gentleman, and as such, he never could stand to see a woman cry—even if this particular woman had some sorrow coming.

“Good as can be expected,” she said with a shrug. “Hearing my brother’s voice twisted me up inside. I wasn’t prepared for the rush of feelings it brought on. Reminded me how badly I miss my family—even Dallas. He and I were never close.”

“Cash speaks of you often.” Luke nabbed a piece of bacon. “Mostly about the good times. Misses you something fierce.”

“I miss him, too. Maybe because we’re closest in age, but he’s secretly my favorite.”

Luke smiled. “That boy’s straight up full of himself.”

“Still handsome?”

Just as much as you are pretty. The way a fog had rolled in, softening the sunlight on her hair, tightened his stomach. He hated the part of himself that had never quite gotten over her. “He’s all right. But as a man, I’m not really into his type.”

“Sure, sure. You don’t have to hide your attraction from me.” Her unexpected smile was his undoing. Oh—he had an attraction all right, but for the lone female of the Buckhorn siblings.

“All kidding aside, what’s your plan? Because if you and I don’t reach a peaceable custody agreement, I don’t have a problem with it getting ugly. I’ve already missed ten years with my son and I refuse to miss a minute more.”

“I understand.” She paled, only this time it had nothing to do with the ever-increasing fog. “I’ll need to speak with my boss. Clear my schedule. Also, I think it would be best if initially, I meet up with my family without Kolt. I want them prepared so that meeting him doesn’t come as quite such a shock.”

“Agreed.”

While hammering out more details, it occurred to Luke that Daisy Buckhorn was still to this day the best-looking woman he’d ever seen. Good thing he wasn’t in the market for romance. More times than he could count, he’d been burned. He gave his heart too easily, only to have it handed back. Why? Females claimed he was incapable of trust—a fact for which he had Daisy to thank. Ironic, seeing how his job largely depended on him gaining an animal’s trust. Too bad for him women and horses didn’t have all that much in common.



“I WAS SO SCARED I’d never see you again.”

“I’m sorry,” Daisy said, hugging her mother while they both cried in the entry hall of the home where she’d grown up. Georgina Buckhorn used the same orange blossom-scented lotion she always had, and, for Daisy, memories of being sweetly tucked into her bed and rocked through every scraped knee were overwhelming. Trembling, she ingested the full burden of what she had done. In escaping Henry, she’d virtually thrown away everyone she’d ever loved. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t know what else to do.”