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“You look like you’ve had practice doing that,” she said and stepped into the room.
He met her gaze. “I’ve had some experience. She was restless for a moment.”
Brooke came around the sofa. “Do you come from a big family?”
He ignored her question. “Did you reach your brother?”
“I left a message asking him to call me. I’ll try again in the morning.”
“Thank you,” he said and stood, holding the baby close to his chest. “I should get going. I’ll call you tomorrow to find out if your brother has contacted you.”
“Where are you staying tonight?”
“I have a room at a place called O’Sullivans.”
She nodded as a kind of unease settled in her belly. “It’s the big hotel in town. It’s nice... I’m sure you’ll be comfortable there. Are you...”
His green-eyed gaze narrowed. “Am I, what?”
Brooke straightened her shoulders. “Are you taking Cara with you?”
“Of course,” he replied and took a step away from the sofa. “I’m her legal guardian.”
Brooke’s unease slowly turned into a rising panic. Her guardian? Which meant he was calling all the shots. “So, that means you get to decide what happens to her.”
“It means I get to decide if your brother is a fit and able parent...assuming he returns your call, gets himself back to Cedar River and actually wants to be Cara’s father.”
Her stomach sank. Oh, Matt...please call back.
“And if he doesn’t?”
Tyler Madden glanced down at the baby before he returned to her unsteady gaze. “Then it is my responsibility to find Cara a suitable home.”
“A suitable home?” Brooke echoed, her apprehension growing. “What does that mean?”
“What does it usually mean?” he said. “A home. A family.”
“You mean, she’ll be adopted?”
“Exactly.”
His reply made her blood run cold. Adopted out to strangers? “She’s my brother’s child and therefore my family and I have a right to—”
“This isn’t about your rights,” he said quietly. “This is about doing what is best for Cara. Hopefully, and in accordance to Yelena’s wishes, that is your brother. You need to understand that Ralph has reservations about Matt being a fit parent for Cara. But, he’s willing to do what Yelena wanted if your brother can prove that he is willing to be a father. If he’s not, or if he’s unable to be found, then I’ll consider other options.”
Other options? That’s here, where she belongs...
But Brooke held her tongue. First, she had to get her brother back to Cedar River. Which wasn’t going to be easy. Second, she had to convince Matt that he had to act like a responsible adult and be a parent to the child he’d fathered. That wasn’t going to be easy, either. Matt had been on the run for five years. Since the accident that had killed their parents. He still blamed himself, even though another driver was at fault. Nothing she said eased his grief, his guilt or managed to convince him it was time to come home. But maybe this would, she thought as she gazed at the sleeping child. All she had to do was convince Tyler Madden to give her some time.
Which meant being friendly. Or at least civil.
“I understand you have a job to do and I appreciate that Cara’s welfare is important to you, but please understand that as her aunt and her family, it’s important to me, too. Even if I didn’t know she existed until about half an hour ago, I’m trying to get past the shock and concentrate on doing what’s best for her.”
He stood rigid, looking unmoved by her impassioned speech. She wouldn’t have expected anything else. He was a lawyer doing his job. He had no emotional investment, only duty. She knew enough about lawyers to recognize one that was as cold as a fish.
“Get in contact with your brother,” he said and pulled his car keys from his pocket. “And we’ll see what happens from there.”
Brooke was tempted to snatch the baby from his arms, but quickly ditched that idea. He was big and strong and, despite the civilized suit and tie, she suspected he could handle himself in the courtroom, the bedroom or a street brawl if he needed to, let alone in a tussle with a woman who was barely five feet five inches tall.
She fingered the business card in her hand. “I’ll contact you as soon as I hear from Matt.”
He nodded. “Thank you. Good night.”
Brooke followed him down the hall and watched as he walked through the front door and then down the steps. The dogs sat at heel by the door and she waited while he secured the baby into the backseat of his sedan and drove off, staring at the disappearing taillights. Once she saw the car turn off on the main road Brooke shut the door, took a long breath and pulled the cell phone from her pocket. She dialed Matt’s number again and left another message—this one more urgent than the last.
He had to come home. And until he did, Brooke would do whatever she could to ensure Cara stayed in town. Which meant she’d play whatever game Tyler Madden had planned.
For now.
Chapter Two (#ulink_4ef35462-94f3-5985-adbd-7258bd3c3cb5)
A distraction. That’s what she was. That’s all she was. And Tyler didn’t want or need any distractions. But damn if he didn’t spend the night dreaming about indigo eyes and freckles.
He was in Cedar River for business—that was all. He had a job to do and a child to care for...so dreaming about Brooke Laughton was off-limits.
The O’Sullivan’s hotel was surprisingly well-appointed and much more opulent than he’d expected. The night duty manager had quickly sourced a crib for the baby, so Tyler didn’t have to lug out the portable one he’d stashed in the trunk of the rental car, which was great since the weather had turned worse and the snow was coming down heavier. He didn’t sleep much but was pleased that Cara had slept soundly and awoke in a happy mood. He bathed and changed her and ordered coffee from room service. Once she’d eaten some cereal and had a bottle he placed her back in the crib and took a shower. When he was done he changed into dark chinos and a blue shirt and opened up his laptop.
He’d taken a couple of weeks’ leave from Wall, Hardin & Steele, but he still had two open cases that needed his attention. He’d been with the firm for five years and was up for partner in the next six months. It’s what he wanted. What he’d worked for.
Phil Hardin hadn’t been happy that he had asked for time off to sort out Cara’s situation, but Tyler had insisted. He owed Ralph Jürgens his time and attention.
What I want...what I’ve worked for.
He had to keep remembering that. Nothing was going to distract him.
It was just after ten when the room phone rang. He snatched it up and the clerk at reception informed him that he had a visitor. His stomach immediately tied itself in knots.
Indigo eyes...
He cursed to himself for thinking like a fool but when he opened the door to her a few minutes later, his awareness level almost shot into the red zone. She looked incredible in a bright green, long-sleeved collared T-shirt tucked into the waistband, a sheepskin vest, a wide leather belt and cowboy boots. Well-worn jeans that accentuated her long legs clung to the curves of her hips, and her golden hair hung down over her shoulders. No makeup—just the healthy glow of someone who worked outdoors.
Damn...she stirred him. More than he’d been stirred in a long time. Since...forever.
“Hi,” she said, kind of breathlessly.
“Hi, yourself.”
“I was in town,” she explained quickly. “Getting horse feed and some fencing gear. So I thought I’d drop by and see Cara. Is that okay?”
Tyler shrugged one shoulder. “Sure. Come on in.”
She walked into the room and the scent of her perfume fluttered through the air. Or maybe it was simply her shampoo. She didn’t strike him as a woman who spent time preening and powdering. There was something effortlessly earthy and natural about her and it had an unexpected effect on him. He knew prettier women. Dated and slept with them whenever the mood took him. But he always kept it casual. No commitment, no deep feelings. Sex and company. That was his mantra. Once the need started he bailed. Because of that he generally dated a certain kind of woman—someone with the same outlook he had. Someone who lived to work and didn’t expect too much of his time and attention. It was superficial, shallow and exactly what he wanted. Exactly what suited him. One day, he figured he’d settle down. He wanted a family of his own at some point. He’d find the right woman and get married and have a couple of kids with someone who understood him. And small town girls with big eyes, sweet smiles and freckles were not part of that agenda.
Not ever.
He watched as Brooke headed straight for the crib. She hung back at first, almost hesitating, until Cara responded and held out her chubby arms and then Brooke gently lifted her up. He watched silently, witnessing the bond that was becoming evident. Blood ties. He’d never felt it. Never known it.
But blood and family were obviously important to Brooke.
“Have you heard from your brother?” he asked and closed the door.
She looked across the room and the smile she’d given Cara faded slightly. “Not yet. I sent another message this morning. He’ll call... I’m sure of it. And once he knows about this darling girl I know he’ll come back.”
Tyler wasn’t so sure. Oh, he knew Cara should bring Matthew back home. But Matt Laughton didn’t strike him as a young man who was swayed by what he should do. However, he’d made a commitment to Yelena to give the other man a chance to do what was right. And he would. For the moment.
“I hope you’re right,” he said quietly and watched as Brooke cradled the baby on her hip and began talking to her.
After a moment, as though aware she was being observed, she met his gaze. “She’s so beautiful. Her eyes are—”
“Like yours,” Tyler said quietly. “The same color.”
She nodded, like it pleased her. “She looks like Matt did when he was a baby. My mom said he was way too pretty to be a little boy,” she said and laughed softly. “I always liked to tease him about that when we were growing up.”
“You were close?”
She shrugged a little. “I guess. I’m eight years older than him so I was very much the big sister. But yeah, we were close... I mean...until he left when our...when...”
“When your parents were killed?”
Her eyes darkened. “Yeah...then.”
He knew her parents had been dead for five years. Knew Matthew had been driving the car that afternoon. But he was interested in knowing the details. “Would you tell me what happened?”
She sat down on the small couch and held Cara in her arms. The baby gurgled and laughed and Brooke’s expression was one of pure delight. Something uncurled in his chest, a strange sensation that was rooted deep down. He’d never been sentimental or allowed himself to get close to anyone and he couldn’t explain what he was feeling. Nor did he want to.
After a moment she looked up. “I’m pretty sure you already know.”
“I know what the case file says,” he replied. “I know Matthew was driving the car and that he crashed and your parents were killed instantly.”
“Then you know everything.”
“Really?”
She shrugged again, harder this time. “He was driving, but the accident was not his fault. There was another driver who—”
“I don’t recall another driver being mentioned in the file I read.”
“No,” she said and grimaced. “You won’t. The driver fled the scene.”
“And no charges were ever filed?”
Brooke rocked the baby gently and met his gaze for just a moment. “It’s complicated. And really none of your concern.”
“If it’s the reason why your brother is reluctant to return home then it is my concern.”
“Matthew doesn’t come home because he feels guilty,” she said, hostility flashing in her eyes. “Our parents were killed. So was Sky Dancer. Matt couldn’t get past the—”
“Sky Dancer?” Tyler queried, remembering the file had mentioned something about a horse being killed in the crash. “That’s the horse that was killed?”
“He wasn’t just a horse. He was our foundation stallion,” she explained. “The ranch used to be renowned across the state for its quarter horses. Sky Dancer was the stallion that my father built that breeding program on. Without my father and Sky Dancer the ranch stopped being a working horse ranch and instead...”
“Instead?” he prompted.
She sighed. “Instead it became a place where I give trail rides to tourists in summer and run a few dozen head of cattle to try and keep the place solvent.”
Her voice held all the disappointment of dreams lost and something unexpected uncurled in his chest.
Tyler didn’t do sympathy. His job taught him to be impartial and detached. But Brooke Laughton’s haunted indigo eyes were hard to stay out of. “And do you want to return it to what it once was?”
She sighed again and rocked the now chattering baby on her knee. “Of course. One day I’ll buy Cloud Dancer and I’ll be able to—”
“Cloud Dancer?” he inquired, one brow raised.
“Sky Dancer’s grandson,” she replied. “He’s on the show circuit at the moment but lives on a ranch in Montana. He’s every bit the horse his grandfather was...same strong lines, same unflappable temperament. When I was competing I rode him several times and he always gave his all.”
Tyler was uncharacteristically mesmerized by the passion in her voice. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes shone brightly, like he’d struck a nerve with the mention of horses. He vaguely remembered Yelena telling him that Brooke used to be a professional barrel racer and how Matthew had been in awe of her commitment and success on the show circuit. It fascinated him. “Your horses mean a lot to you?”
Her gaze narrowed, like she was immediately looking for the insult in his words. “Do you think that’s nuts? Maybe it is...but I’ve always felt more at home with animals than I have with most people.”
“I would have pegged you for a people person.”
“Why?” she laughed. “Because I’m so easygoing?”
Tyler grinned fractionally. “I wouldn’t say that exactly. You did have your rifle at the ready last night.”
“Can’t be too careful these days.”
“I guess not. But like I said, I’m not a threat to you.”
“I know that,” she said and looked at the baby and smiled. “Besides, my dogs are a good judge of character and they liked you. You seem very... I don’t know. Civilized.”
Tyler laughed softly. Had anyone ever called him that before? Probably not. Not in his personal life and certainly not in the courtroom. Arrogant, cold and detached—that’s what he was renowned for. Someone who got the job done without getting bogged down in sentiment. Corporate cases were his specialty and he had a 95 percent win rate. He’d toppled big corporations and wiped out smaller contenders. He worked at one of the top legal firms in New York on a six-figure retainer, owned a penthouse apartment in Manhattan, drove a top-of-the-range BMW and had his suits and shoes made in Italy.
It was quite a leap from being a one-day-old baby dumped in a box and left on a church doorstep in Nowhere, Nebraska.
He ignored the twitch in his gut. Thinking about his beginnings, about the mother who’d abandoned him and then his caring, but tree-hugging, adoptive parents, served no purpose. The past needed to stay where it was. The present was all that mattered.
“Your brother has a week,” he said quietly, purposefully, and with every effort to get her eyes and freckles out of his thoughts.
