She chuckled. “I’m not really the corporate, windowless-office type. I have a conference room at the store where I meet with clients. But I do my drafting and designing here.” Her gaze went past the fence to the horses grazing in the distance, the massive expanse of clear blue sky. “The sounds of the ranch, the smells.” She drew in a deep breath. “I’m inspired here.”
This wasn’t what he’d signed up for. The reasons he shouldn’t be here just kept stacking up. He’d expected her to be at the store from dawn to dusk. Instead, she’d be right here with a massive window on his world. On his daughter.
Lord, don’t let her see what I see when I look into Cheyenne’s eyes.
But did he see the evidence only because he knew the truth? He’d been clueless for several years. Maybe Resa would be, too.
He’d held on to this secret too long for it all to fall apart now.
“See ya later.” She opened the barn door, stepped inside.
Would working in such close proximity stir up his old feelings for her? He’d just have to man up and make sure it didn’t.
Because no matter how beautiful she was, how vulnerable or how caring, she was a woman. And women couldn’t be trusted.
Not when she represented a very real and present danger for Cheyenne. And at all costs, he had to protect his daughter.
“Ready to go inside, princess?” He strode to the fence, sidled up beside her. Baby shampoo and innocence untied the knots in his insides.
“Un-uh, Daddy.” Dark silky hair tumbled with a decisive shake of her head.
And hearing her call him Daddy melted him like butter.
“See how big that mare’s belly is.”
Huge blue eyes met his—a tinge of fear in their depths. “Is there a baby in there?”
“There sure is. She should have a foal sometime while we’re here.”
“I don’t wanna pet it.” Her chin trembled.
He scooped her up. “You don’t have to. But it’ll be really small, so you might change your mind.”
“I won’t.” Her arms locked around his neck and she buried her face in his shoulder.
“It’s up to you, princess.” If only he could take away her fear. Take away her memories. No child should watch her father kill her mother.
* * *
The blueprints blurred and Resa’s traitorous gaze bounced up to the window.
Colson was holding her now. The little girl’s knees were clamped at his waist, arms tight around his shoulders, her face hidden in his neck. He had a child.
How had she not known that?
Because her parents knew how badly he’d hurt her, and his name had been off-limits since she’d learned he’d married Felicity.
She should have at least said hi to the little girl. But she’d been too shocked to think. And the child had never even looked her way, she’d just focused on the mare. So quiet and withdrawn. Was she shy, or somehow traumatized by her mother’s death?
Colson kissed the top of his daughter’s head and Resa’s heart did a flip. Why did a cowboy with a little girl make her go all warm and fuzzy?
Because he wasn’t just any cowboy.
The Bonanza theme song started up on her cell phone. Mom.
“Hey. Are you on the boat yet?”
“About to board.” She sounded happy. “All our guests got home safely?”
“I haven’t heard any different.”
“It was so nice seeing everyone. Everything okay there? Emmett’s not giving you trouble?”
The least of her worries and long gone. “Everything’s fine.” Except Juan’s having surgery. Colson is here to take his place. And he has a daughter y’all never warned me about. But if they knew any of that, they’d be on the first plane back. “Don’t worry. I’ve got this.”
“I know you do. Your father and I have complete confidence in you.”
“So, stop worrying about me and have fun. I love you.”
“I love you. Your father wants to say hi.”
“Hey, Dad. Go have fun. And don’t call me again.”
His warm chuckle eased her tense shoulders. “Don’t you want to know when we get on the boat?”
“Text me pictures. But don’t check in. Everything’s fine here. Enjoy your cruise. I love you. And goodbye.”
“I love you, Miss Bossypants.”
“You’re the one who left me in charge.” She ended the call, looked back to the window.
Deep, rich laughter. Colson held his daughter belly up, tickling her tummy. She writhed and cackled with glee. Okay, maybe she wasn’t so withdrawn, after all. At least not with her father.
The realization that Cheyenne even existed was still sinking in.
Maybe tonight, Resa would fix them a meal, make a point to get to know the child and prove to Colson she really was over him.
* * *
It was suppertime, but food was the last thing on Colson’s mind. He’d let Cheyenne spend an hour with him this morning to get her acclimated to their temporary home. But his day had stretched long after Annette retrieved her. His heart did triple time as he let himself in the McCalls’ house, the way it always did when he’d been away from his daughter, even if only for a few hours.
Last night he’d seen that the house was much as he remembered. Large, but not as grand as the McCalls could have afforded. Massive beams, rustic design, a veritable showroom full of Rustick’s furnishings. A lot like his dad’s. He could hear Dad’s voice, Annette’s, and a child’s giggle that warmed him from the inside out.
Cheyenne lay on the yellow pine floor, her dark curtain of hair framing her face, a frown of concentration there as she colored a princess’s hair pink. Dad and Annette were smiling on from the nailhead log couch.
Colson plopped down beside Cheyenne.
“Daddy.” She shrieked, pushed up and barreled into him.
“How’s my little beauty? Do you like the new digs?”
“It’s okay.” But she only had eyes for him.
If he could just bottle these moments...
“Wanna color?”
“Can’t wait.”
She wiggled out of his arms, returned to her coloring book, pointed to the prince next to her page. “You can do him.”
“What color hair should he have?” He lay flat on his belly beside her.
“Blue since he’s a boy.”
“Blue it is.” He grabbed the crayon and went to work. He looked up when he felt his dad’s and Annette’s scrutiny. They were holding hands, both of them grinning at him. Married four years, they were obviously still crazy about each other. “What?”
“Adorable.” Annette shot him a fond wink.
“Thanks for helping out with her.”
“We had fun. I felt like a teacher again. Cheyenne will keep me in practice for subbing again next year.”
Though Annette clearly loved teaching, she didn’t seem to