Taking the job with Benjamin and Emma had given her a strange sort of relief. Emma had immediately responded to her as if there were already a bond between the two of them. Even though Emma was jittery, there was a sense of calm to the daily routine. Although Emma screamed and cried, she also smiled and cuddled. Something about the baby soothed Coco’s sadness. She wanted to help heal Emma’s fear. In the short time she’d spent at the Garner ranch, she’d grown extremely protective of Emma and was determined to bring peace between the baby and her daddy.
At this point in her life, nothing else was more important.
Each hour, however, she felt herself grow a little more curious about the royal family. In her few spare moments, she checked out the Devereau family and Chantaine online. Most of the siblings looked snooty to her—except for the one with curly hair named Phillipa. Coco was surprised to discover that one of the princesses—Valentina—actually lived in Texas with her husband and daughter.
Her half sister was in the same state. She could actually drive to meet her, she thought. That said, Princess Valentina might have no interest in meeting her. In spite of the fact that she insisted she had no expectations of her new semisiblings, Coco felt restless day and night. When she went to bed, her mind whirled with possibilities. In the deepest, darkest part of her, Coco wanted family—sisters, a mother, a father, cousins, aunts, uncles. Her adoptive mother and father were dead. Her birth mother and father were dead. She’d thought she was all alone. Was she? Was she crazy to think she wasn’t alone?
* * *
The next day, Coco strapped Emma to her chest and took a fishing pole and tackle box out to one of the streams on the Garner ranch. In Texas, people took their infants out to do things that celebrated everything great about the state. That meant the general population wouldn’t be surprised to see an infant at a professional ball game, fishing or even horseback riding, with their mama or daddy, of course. Thinking back to all the fishing trips she’d taken with her daddy before she’d turned ten, she cast her line into the stream, sat on the shore and waited. And waited. And waited. Then she got a bite and reeled in a medium-sized trout. She threw him back and cast her line again.
Early on, she’d learned that waiting was a big part of the game. Her father had made that easier with stories he’d told her—stories he’d clearly conjured. She reconstructed one of those stories and repeated it to Emma, who promptly fell asleep.
Hey, it was a cool story even if it made Emma snooze. Coco caught another three fish that she tossed back into the stream. One of Benjamin’s workers stopped by to chat with her for a few minutes, and by late afternoon, she felt great. All her worries had disappeared. She gave Emma a bottle. The sun was shining on her head, she was sweating just a little bit and she began tramping back to the house.
* * *
Back at the house, Benjamin paced his office. Coco and Emma were gone. Coco had told Sarah she was going fishing, but Benjamin hadn’t gotten around to showing her the real fishing spots on the ranch. So how the hell had she gone fishing?
He thought about Tweedledee and Tweedledum, the two guys representing the Devereau clan who’d visited Coco. He wondered if, despite their dweebiness, they had darker motives. What if they had gone after Coco and his daughter?
Benjamin headed for the front door, intent on tracking down Coco and Emma when he saw Coco stomping up the steps with a fishing pole, a tackle kit and a beaming smile.
Her smile was contagious. “You look happy.”
“I am,” she said. “I caught four fish and threw them back in the stream.”
“You could be lying,” he couldn’t resist teasing. “What proof do you have?”
Her eyes darkened. “Your daughter is a witness.”
Benjamin looked at his sleeping daughter and laughed. “She’s a bad witness.”
“You don’t believe I caught those fish?” she asked, lifting her chin.
“Why should I?”
“Because I told you and because I’m an honorable woman. The only tales I tell are the kind that keep you occupied when you’re waiting to score a fish. My daddy told me a lot of those kinds of stories when we went fishing,” she said.
He met her gaze and felt a strange sensation in his chest. She’d surprised him. He wouldn’t have expected her to be a fisherman even though he’d known she’d grown up in a small town.
“And you’re trying to teach my daughter how to fish at five months?” he said, nodding toward the baby pack on Coco’s chest.
“Do you mind?” she asked.
“No. I don’t mind. It’s good for her to get outside.”
“Do you want to take her?” she challenged.
Whoa, he thought. “She’d scream bloody murder if I tried to take her fishing.”
Her eyes softened just a little. “I’m not talking about fishing. I’m talking about you and your daughter doing something enjoyable together. Both of you need that.”
The next night, Benjamin met his brother Jackson at a bar in town. They sat down over couple of cold beers. “So, what’s up?” Jackson asked. “You don’t look too good.”
Benjamin slid a sideways glance at his younger brother. Jackson, an up-and-coming lawyer, had always been fast on the draw. He’d finished high school in two years, college in three, then gone on to collect his law degree at a prestigious university.
“Wanna trade places for a month or two?” Benjamin joked.
“Sorry.” Jackson lifted his mug to his lips. “Even I know you would get the easier deal. Ranch and a new baby. Me? I’m a single guy with no plans for a wife or kids anytime in the next century.”
“I hadn’t planned on children yet, either,” Benjamin said wryly but couldn’t keep from cracking a smile. “How’s the practice going?”
“Good,” he said. “It would be easier if I were in Dallas, and there was that offer in New York.”
“So why don’t you go?” Benjamin challenged, already knowing the answer. His brother was committed to Silver City.
Jackson shrugged. “I don’t know. This just feels right.”
“Then quit bellyachin’ about it,” Benjamin said.
Jackson shot him a mock-hard glance. “You’re the one who wanted to trade places,” he said and took a swallow of his beer. “What’s going on?”
Benjamin sighed. “Besides the fact that my daughter hates my guts?” he asked.
Jackson appeared to swallow a laugh and took another sip of beer to cover it. “That could be tough.”
“Yeah,” Benjamin said.
“But there’s something else,” Jackson prodded.
Benjamin sighed again. “The new nanny.”
Jackson frowned. “I thought she was magical. She calmed your screaming daughter. She was perfect.”
“Close to perfect,” Benjamin muttered. “But we’ve hit a bump.”
“She’s illegal?” Jackson asked.
Benjamin shook his head. “No. It’s worse that that.”
“What could be worse?”
Benjamin looked from side to side and leaned toward his brother with a low voice. “She’s a princess.”
“What?” Jackson asked loudly.
“Keep it down,”