A Cowboy to Call Daddy

by Sasha Summers

  “Good. Until then, I can ride them?”

  He nodded, heading toward the office. “I’m going to change.” He was stopped by two different employees, signed off on a delivery and inspected a saddle that needed repair. Once he was in his office, he shrugged out of his still-wet shirt and dropped it on the chair by his desk. A sandwich sat on his desk, a note beside it.

  Come to the Lodge for dinner tonight. 7 p.m. Love you—Dad.

  He laid the note down and glanced at the clock. It was already four.

  The muffled, “Ow, damn it, shit,” from Eden’s office had him running next door. “Eden?” He stepped inside, but she wasn’t sitting at the desk. She was on the floor, rubbing her calf.

  “Scorpion,” she said, looking up. “And no, it wasn’t in my shoe. It just climbed up my leg and bit me.”

  He tried not to smile as he knelt by her side, lifting her hands. “They’re inconsiderate that way.” He ran his thumb over the reddened mark. It was the wrong time to notice how soft her skin was. Or soak up just how sweet she smelled this close. He cleared his throat. “I’ll get you some ice. And Tylenol.” He tried not to stare at her...

  Her hazel gaze met his.

  He felt immobilized, trapped—in a good way. Other than family, he tended to avoid women. They made him nervous. But not now. Now... He wanted to stay right here, close to her. He didn’t know why, exactly, just that being near her was surprisingly...pleasant. It made him feel good. If she wasn’t in pain.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  He nodded, pushing off the floor. His brain was processing this odd development as he pulled an ice pack from the break room freezer and some pain reliever from the medicine cabinet mounted in his bathroom. By the time he’d returned, he had no reasonable explanation for his reaction to her. He’d barely touched her, but the tips of his fingers and thumb felt like they’d been zapped by 220 volts of electricity. He paused inside her office, studying her as she sat at her desk, staring out the small window.

  Her long blond hair fell over her shoulder, loosely braided.

  Damn it. He wasn’t one to give much thought to such things but...she was beautiful.

  He swallowed, beginning to accept that his reaction had no reasonable explanation. Being a man of research, he had to know. “Take these,” he said, placing the bottle on the table. He knelt, his fingers encircling her ankle and placing her foot on his leg. Damn, but it was the same. Her scent—He damn near groaned. His gut tightened, his fingers burned and his lungs emptied ’til he ached... He stared at her ankle, stunned.

  “I’m fine,” she muttered, her voice sounding off—tight and thick.

  He looked up at her again, wary. “This will help stop it from swelling.” She had no right to be irritated. He was the one who’d just been knocked for a loop.

  “Okay,” she said, sliding her foot from his knee and holding out her hand. “Thank you.” She bent, pressing the ice pack to the red welt along her calf.

  He stood, his hands on his hips. What the hell was he doing? She was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. She was capable of taking care of an entire family on her own. Family as in a baby and a little girl. A little girl he’d made cry.

  “I didn’t mean to upset your daughter,” he said. “I just... I... She’s little.”

  “I know she’s little.” Eden looked up at him then. “Contrary to what you think, I would never put my daughter at risk, Dr. Boone. I wasn’t planning on letting her touch Fester, but I didn’t think it would hurt to get closer to the barn. Fester is not the only horse to see. I wasn’t going to let her touch any of them. She’s never been around horses. Or cowboys. Your world.”

  He was an asshole. He hadn’t just hurt Ivy’s feelings. He’d hurt Eden’s, as well—he heard it in her voice. But little girls were outside his comfort zone. Women were outside his comfort zone. And hurt feelings? He didn’t have the time or patience for that.

  All he knew was Ivy was small. And delicate. Just like Eden. Fester could have hurt them without trying. He swallowed, surprised by the cold, hard fear that stuck in his throat. “It’s my business to ensure that the people on the refuge are safe, Miss Caraway... That’s all. I did not mean to offend you.” He stopped, staring at her. “I apologize.”

  She blinked, her features softening. “I accept.”

  He nodded, wishing he knew what she was thinking. His family was full of emotive, unguarded people—he knew where he stood with them. Eden Caraway, however, was an enigma.

  Her gaze shifted to her work. “The girls won’t come here again—”

  That wasn’t what he wanted. “Miss Caraway—”

  “Unless you, or someone you approve of, is with them,” she finished. “I respect your judgment. As we discussed earlier, I am not a horse person.”

  He nodded again, instantly relieved.

  Her eyes bounced from her papers, to him, then back again. The fluid shift of her features catching his full attention. And the red cast of her cheeks. She drew in a deep breath, her gaze holding his. “Dr. Boone—”

  “Archer,” he corrected, waiting.

  “Now that we’ve reached an understanding...” She paused, her eyes falling from his. “You can go find your...a shirt.”

  He looked down. He’d heard her and hadn’t bothered getting dressed. He didn’t say a word as he left her small office and returned to his. He dug through the bag he kept ready for a rescue or house call and tugged on the white undershirt inside. He glanced at his door, still out of sorts, before flopping into his desk chair. This “trying to be on his best behavior” thing wasn’t working out.

  He ran a hand over his face and glanced at his computer. An email caught his eye.

  He slid his reading glasses on and sat forward, poring over the email. Another Boone cousin, from West Texas, had found a horse that needed help and sent the info. The pics Scarlett sent tore at Archer’s heart.

  This poor little paint horse had been trapped inside a too-small stall with moldy grain and a bucket of brackish water. No doubt it had intestinal parasites. Possibly lung infection. If it hadn’t been moving around, hoof problems... He spent the next two hours working on the computer, returning phone calls and verifying the location of the horse. Once that was done, he called Deacon.

  “I’ll head out now,” his cousin said. “Be back as soon as I can.”

  “She’s in a bad way,” Archer said.

  “I’ll be careful with her, Archer,” Deacon assured him.

  “Take Toben,” Archer offered. “Don’t know how steady she’s going to be on her feet.”

  “Can I take someone I’m less likely to punch?” Deacon asked.

  Archer smiled. “You pick. See you later. Don’t let Toben drive.”

  “Not a problem,” Deacon agreed.

  He placed his phone on the desk, sat back and rubbed a hand over his face.

  “Everything okay?” Eden asked from the door.

  “New horse coming in.” He looked at her. “How’s the sting?”

  She shrugged. “A little sore. Not so bad.”

  He nodded.

  “Guess juggling scorpion bites and horse rescues and uncooperative employees is all part of a day’s work?” she asked, leaning against the door frame.

  He couldn’t stop the smile. “Yep.”

  She shook her head, studying him intently. “Have you always wanted to do this? Work with horses, I mean. Be a safe haven for them.”

  “I knew I’d work with animals. Horses are the animals I understand best, people included.” He shrugged. “It was my mom’s idea to start the refuge here,” he said. “The first horse I ever bought was in bad shape. Abused, mean, mangy. I spent every cent I had to make him my...friend. Took some time, but that horse was my mom’s favorite. She and Dad started bringing in strays and letting me work with them. We had a good handle
r back then, knew horses, how to read them, like the back of his hand. He taught me everything I know. Horses got easier. People not so much.” He smiled. “That was it.”

  She wore a thoughtful expression. “Nice to have such support for your passion. And that your passion became your work.”

  “Not the same thing?” he asked, curious. “Passion and work?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “I have a knack for numbers and business. My passion is my girls. And leaving them every morning is a struggle. But it’s what I have to do.”

  He glanced at the clock and stood. “And now you’re late getting to them.”

  “Clara’s with them.”

  “Not the same as having their mother,” he said. He knew. Losing his mother had forever changed his life. Partly because the one person in the family who seemed to accept his quirks was gone. She’d prodded him with questions, lured him out on long rides and eased him into sharing his thoughts. She’d always made time for him. It didn’t matter how long it had been since his mother’s death; the ache was still there, pressing in on him.

  “Dr. Boone?”

  “Archer,” he inserted.

  “Archer.” She sighed. “I can walk, if you still have work to do.”

  He shook his head, needing a break. “I’ll come back after dinner.” He eyed his untouched sandwich, and his stomach growled.

  She smiled. And just like that, his tension eased. He wasn’t sure he liked the effect Eden Caraway was having on him. But as long as she wasn’t too close to him and he wasn’t touching her, he seemed to have things under control. She’d be gone soon, and it wouldn’t matter. But thoughts of her leaving didn’t provide the instant relief he’d expected.

  Chapter Five

  Eden changed out of her slacks and blouse, slipping into some black leggings and a comfy, light blue tunic. She wanted to be with the girls, enjoy some family time and relax. Something she was completely incapable of around Archer Boone.

  Seeing him shirtless had been alarming. It had been years since her body had thrummed with awareness—and want. When he’d knelt at her side, she’d fisted her hands to keep from touching him. The balls of his shoulders, the muscles flexing in his arms and chest. He was gorgeous. More so because he’d earned those muscles through something he was passionate about. When he’d touched her, her senses had gone into overdrive... When his work-roughened fingers had brushed her hands aside to inspect the bite, she’d glimpsed the look in his blue eyes. He seemed concerned. Like he cared.

  And she didn’t know how she felt about that.

  She needed to be more intentional about putting space between them. She’d always been goal-oriented. And her goal had nothing to do with blue eyes and rippling muscles and everything to do with proving herself to her father. This was her chance to grab his attention and his respect. A chance that might not come again.

  Lily was rolling on the floor of their room, pushing up onto her knees to rock back and forth.

  “You can do it,” Eden said, dropping down onto the floor beside her daughter. “Come on. Come get me,” she encouraged, holding her hands out.

  Lily grinned, rocking with more gusto and falling forward onto her face. Luckily, Eden had placed a quilt on the floor so Lily didn’t hurt herself. But she was upset nonetheless. She wailed, turning bright blue eyes on Eden.

  “It’s okay, sweetie.” Eden scooped her up. “It’s a lot of work. But you’ll get there. Crawling, then walking... And then I’m in real trouble.”

  “Ma-ma-ma-ma,” Lily chanted as soon as she was in her mother’s arms, smiling up at Eden.

  “I love you so much, little bug.” Eden pressed a kiss to each of her daughter’s cheeks.

  “Momma, Momma,” Ivy said in a singsong voice as she came running in. “I made biscuits!”

  “You did?” Eden exclaimed. “I love biscuits.”

  “You have to share,” Ivy said. “Clara helped.”

  “Oh, good.” Eden smiled, hugging Ivy close with her other arm. “You’re being such a helper, Ivy. Thank you.”

  Ivy nodded. “’Course, Momma.”

  “Ba-ba-ba,” Lily cooed.

  “Did you have fun today?” she asked. “What did you and Clara and Lily do?”

  “Mr. Teddy showed us the goats,” Ivy said. “Tiny baby ones, too.”

  Eden smiled. “Baby goats?”

  “They make funny sounds. And crawl.” Ivy looked at Lily. “Better than Lily.”

  Lily smiled at Ivy, reaching out to grab Ivy’s hand. She adored her big sister.

  “What else did you do?” Eden asked.

  “Feed them,” Ivy said, poking Lily’s nose with her pointer finger. Lily giggled, closing her eyes every time Ivy touched her nose.

  “What do they eat?” Eden asked, smiling at her girls.

  “Corn,” Ivy said. “We having corn, too. Come on.” She wriggled out of Eden’s hold and grabbed her hand. “Come on. Dinner’s ready.”

  “Oh.” Eden stood, shifting Lily to her hip, and followed Ivy across the main living room and through a thick wooden door.

  Clara was setting the long wooden table while Mr. Boone was placing cups on the place mats.

  “Can I help?” Eden asked, struck once more by the crackling dynamic between Teddy Boone and her more-mother-than-nanny.

  “No.” Clara frowned at her. “You sit and let us take care of you.”

  Eden counted seven plates. “We’re not eating in the dining room?” she asked. “I’d hate to intrude on your family.”

  Teddy Boone laughed. “No intrusion. It’s mostly me and my daughter, Renata, these days. Archer sometimes, when he remembers to eat. The rest of my sons have wives and kids. Lots of kids.”

  “But no granddaughters,” Clara said, shaking her head.

  Eden laughed. “How many?”

  Teddy brought a large pitcher of tea to the table. “Let’s see. Hunter and Josie have one so far. Fisher and Kylee have two. And Kylee’s little brother, Shawn. And Ryder and Annabeth have three. Doc had told Annabeth they were having twins and one was a girl. I can’t tell you how relieved Ryder was when they were both boys. Not sure he could handle being daddy to a girl—he used to be quite the ladies’ man, you see.”

  “So you have five children?” Eden asked, bouncing Lily on her knee.

  Teddy nodded. “Four boys, one girl. Renata and Fisher are twins. You’ve met Renata?”

  She nodded. “She’s very nice.”

  “She is that.” Teddy beamed with pride. “She’s her mother made over. Never met a stranger. Never had a mean word to say about a person.”

  “That doesn’t mean I don’t think them every once in a while,” Renata Boone said as she entered the kitchen. “Thanks for singing my praises, Dad.” She hugged her father and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

  Eden watched, moved by the show of love and appreciation between father and daughter. She and her father had been close when she was little. But the last few years Jason Monroe had changed. Now he didn’t believe in giving out praise or attention unless it was warranted. And apparently, Eden had yet to earn either. Something she was determined to change. She saw how it was between her father and brother, how easy their relationship was. If she kept trying, kept working, she’d have that, too—she just couldn’t give up.

  “Who are these two adorable young ladies?” Renata stared down at Ivy. “You are without a doubt the cutest thing I have ever seen.”

  “Tank you,” Ivy said. “You pretty.”

  “Thank you,” Renata answered. “So are you. I’m Renata. Who are you?”

  “I’m Ivy.”

  Renata held her hand out. “Nice to meet you, Ivy. I can tell by looking at you that Eden’s your mom. Pretty momma, pretty babies.”

  Ivy nodded. “And that’s Lily, my sister. She can’t crawl yet. And she doesn’
t eat corn.”

  Renata nodded, looking confused.

  “They went to see the baby goats today,” Teddy Boone offered as an explanation. “Baby goats crawl on all fours. Like babies.”

  “Aw, right,” Renata said with a smile. “Nope, no corn for Lily yet.”

  “I think we’re ready,” Teddy said.

  “Smells good,” Eden said, sliding Lily into the high chair and snapping on a bib.

  “Just grilled some chicken. Corn on the cob. And a salad fresh from the garden.” Teddy put the serving platters on the table.

  “And biscuits,” Ivy said.

  “Yes, ma’am, can’t forget those. They’re the best part,” Teddy said, patting Ivy’s cheek.

  Ivy sat between Clara and Teddy, smiling proudly. Serving dishes were passed, drinks were poured and conversation never stopped. Eden put a few Cheerios on Lily’s tray and served herself.

  “Sorry I’m late.” Archer paused inside the kitchen, his gaze sweeping the room.

  “Dr. Boone, I made biscuits,” Ivy announced.

  Archer smiled. “You did?”

  “Clara helped,” Ivy added.

  “Sounds safe,” he said, crossing to the table.

  Only one seat was open, the one next to Eden. And when he sat beside her, she nodded at him. Try as she might, she was acutely aware of his presence, his scent and her instant reaction to him.

  “Day two,” Renata said. “How’s it going?”

  Had it only been two days? In two days they’d argued; she’d been bitten by a scorpion and adopted by a horse; and she’d questioned her mother’s past and her father’s motivation; and been offered a permanent position by a man she was far too attracted to. Thank God it was just attraction. It was... Anything more would be oddly out of character. She didn’t rush into things. She was careful, methodical. She kept her heart under control.

  She put her fork on the table, glancing at Archer.

  His attention was fixed on his plate, even as the rest of the table waited for an answer.