by Kat Brookes
His words brought a smile to her face. “I’ll be sure to make note of those particular flaws when making my final decision.”
“You know this doesn’t have to be a ‘someone wins and someone loses’ situation. We can work this out together.”
“Tucker, it’s not that simple,” Autumn replied, her expression growing serious once more.
“Life never is,” he said. “But you learn to work around it.”
“Like it or not, someone is gonna lose in this situation.” She just prayed that someone wouldn’t end up being her niece.
He frowned. “I’ll be the first to admit I don’t have all the answers right now, but I do know one thing. I want my daughter to be happy. Placing her in the middle of a lengthy custody battle isn’t going to make that happen, so I intend to do a lot of praying to the Lord for guidance as we work through this situation.”
Tucker had been denied his only child. He could easily have turned his bitterness for what her sister had done to him on her and gone straight to his attorney to fight for custody of Blue, which he had every right to. But he had put his daughter’s emotional well-being first and was taking the time to get to know her, allowing her time to get to know him, as well.
“Dragging my niece through a court battle is something I’d prefer to avoid as well, if at all possible.”
“Then we will,” Tucker said assuredly. He cast a quick glance over his shoulder and then back to Autumn. “Look, this probably isn’t the best time for us to have this conversation. Blue’s bound to start wondering where we’ve run off to. Why don’t we head back inside and have some of that chicken dinner you put together for us?”
“Maybe you should go on in and make excuses for me. My eyes must look awful after crying the way I did.”
“Your eyes are as pretty as ever,” he said and then cleared his throat as if immediately regretting his words. “I mean they’re not the least bit swollen. Come back in and join us. Later, we both can begin mulling over ways to make this situation work for all involved. That is,” he added with a slight grin, “if my flaws don’t prove to be far too numerous.”
With a nod, she walked with him back to the house, a smile pulling at her lips. Tucker Wade thought her eyes were pretty. “Just see that they don’t, Mr. Wade. I would hate to add any more flaws to the list I’m mentally compiling to the ones you’ve already given me.”
He let out a husky chuckle. “Appears I’m my own worst enemy.”
“Tell you what,” she said as they made their way up onto the porch. “You forget about my burning the spaghetti and I’ll cross all previously mentioned flaws off of my list.”
He glanced her way as he reached for the screen door, and a wide smile spread across his tanned face, the sight of which made her heart skip a beat. “Spaghetti? What spaghetti?”
Chapter Five
Movement in the kitchen entryway had Tucker glancing up from the cup of coffee he was finishing off before heading out to the main barn. For a moment, it was Summer he saw standing there, the thought of which had Tucker’s jaw clenching even though he knew that it couldn’t be his wife.
Autumn’s shoulder-length hair, at least where the cut fell in the front, was slightly mussed, as if she’d taken a walk outside where a slight breeze filled the cool, crisp morning air. Instead of the more polished, professional dress style he’d seen her wear since coming to the ranch, she was dressed in an oversized loose-fitting sweatshirt and a pair of black leggings, reminding him more of her sister in her casual attire.
But this wasn’t Summer. Acknowledging that, he managed a smile. “Morning.”
“Morning,” Autumn replied as she moved into the room.
Pushing away from the table, Tucker stood. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”
She shook her head. “You didn’t. I’ve been up for a while, going through work emails. I heard you moving about the kitchen. Do you have a moment to talk? There’s something I really needed to say to you.”
Tucker’s gut tightened. Was this the day she had made the decision to head back to Cheyenne with his daughter? Nine days was not nearly enough time to sway Autumn over. And the last thing he wanted to do was to hurt her any more than she was already hurting. He’d seen the emotional pain she tried so hard to hide.
“I’ll make time,” he said as he stepped around the table to slide a chair out for her. “Can I get you something? A cup of coffee? A glass of orange juice?”
“No, thank you,” she replied as she took the offered seat with a grateful smile. “We really haven’t had any time alone to speak,” she began. “You’ve either been working the ranch, or others have been around. Your brothers. Blue.”
He nodded in understanding. Though he’d cut back on the hours he spent working during her and Blue’s stay there, Autumn was correct about their really having no time for any private conversation between the two of them. Blue rarely left his side when he returned home, except for when he went out to the barn. And Garrett and Jackson had been by several times that past week to visit. His brothers had even hung a wooden swing from one of the trees in the front yard for Blue to play on, which his daughter happily spent hours on.
“You should have said something,” he told her as he returned to his seat. “I would’ve found time for us to talk in private.”
“I was gonna last night, but you had plans,” she replied.
“I’m sorry to have left you and Blue here to entertain yourselves last night, but I had a prior obligation I didn’t feel right backing out of.”
“Of course not,” she said. Yet, Tucker wondered if he shouldn’t have called the nursing home to tell them he wouldn’t be in while his daughter was visiting. But he’d needed to check in on Old Wylie, and see how he was recovering after his recent struggle with gout. The long-retired rodeo cowboy had no family to look in on him, so Tucker had taken it upon himself to watch out for him. Thankfully, his old friend had appeared to be hale and hearty. Like the Old Wylie who had taught Tucker so much of what he knew about being a professional rodeo rider. And for that Tucker was grateful.
“What was it you wanted to talk about?” Tucker asked, preparing himself for the worst, hoping for the best.
Autumn lowered her gaze to the table. “This has been weighing on my mind since last week, so I figured it was time to get it out in the open.”
His heart sank. “Sounds serious.”
“Not so much serious as it is embarrassing,” she mumbled with a frown, her gaze still downcast.
“Embarrassing?”
Autumn looked up and he immediately noted the hint of color in her cheeks. “I’m referring to my teary outburst last week. I think I owe you an apology for my behavior that evening, though it’s a rather belated one at this point.”
Relief swept through him for the umpteenth time since Autumn’s arrival. She wasn’t there to tell him she and Blue were leaving. The tension in his limbs immediately eased. That past week had been a series of emotional ups and downs for him. At times, tension rode him hard, knowing he had to prove himself not only to Autumn but to his little girl. He couldn’t—no, he wouldn’t let his daughter down. But there was also that niggling doubt at the back of his mind—what if he failed? Then there were those times when Blue would hug him so lovingly, so acceptingly, or when Autumn would grant him a heartfelt smile, making him feel less like her enemy and more like...well, more at ease, that his confidence in his ability to be Blue’s father buoyed.
“You don’t have anything to be embarrassed about,” he told her. “Or apologize for.” He curled his fingers around the ceramic mug on the table in front of him to keep from reaching out to cover her hand with his as he had the sudden urge to. Autumn touched a soft spot inside him. One he hadn’t known still existed. His wife’s leaving all those years before had hardened his heart where other women were concerned. Not that he couldn’t be kind to them, or
blame them for what Summer had done. He had just gotten used to being emotionally unavailable. But something had changed after Autumn and his little girl had come into his life.
“I never should have allowed my emotions to spill out the way they did,” she said. “That was so unlike me. I’m normally the one responsible for holding things together. Not collapsing into a puddle of uncontrollable tears.”
He lifted his gaze to hers. “I get what you’re going through. Losing a sibling is probably one of the hardest things a person can go through in their life. At least, you’re able to talk about your sister. It’s more than I can say for myself, and far more time has gone by since Mari’s passing.”
“Only with you.” Her softly spoken confession drew his attention once more. “You’re the only person I’ve shared my true feelings with. I would never let Blue see me like that, and I don’t really have any close friends in Cheyenne to talk to. I spent all of my free time with Summer and Blue.”
“Surely you have other family besides Blue down in wherever it was you grew up in Texas that you can turn to when the grief gets overwhelming.”
She looked perplexed for a moment before shaking her head. “Braxton. A town similar in size to Bent Creek.” Her frown deepened. “Did you and my sister ever really talk before the two of you eloped?”
He sighed. “Probably not as much as we should have. At least, not about the things that one realizes are important as they grow wiser with age. At the time, we were all about competing in the rodeo and the excitement of falling in love. Or what I guess we both thought to be love at the time.”
“In my sister’s defense, she didn’t grow up with parents who were shining examples of true love. Our daddy was never in the picture and Momma didn’t like the picture she was in. She preferred travel and adventure to raising kids. We were cared for mostly by our maternal grandma.”
Tucker listened intently, taking in all the information his wife had failed to share with him. Had she believed he would have judged her by her parents’ past if she’d shared this information with him? Or was it because she longed to leave her past behind her? So many questions he would never have the answers to.
Autumn went on, drawing Tucker back to the conversation. “Summer and I longed for our momma to show us some sort of motherly love, but we learned pretty young that not everyone’s cut out to be somebody’s parent. So we shut her out of our hearts.”
“I didn’t know any of this,” he admitted with a frown. “But then your sister always steered our conversations away from her life in Texas.”
“I’m not surprised. She wanted to get away from the life we had growing up. And when college didn’t turn out to be the answer for her, she went back to barrel racing, which allowed her to leave her past behind doing something she had always loved.”
“You’ve made it clear that you aren’t close to your mother, but does she know about Summer’s passing?”
“I have to reckon she knows,” Autumn replied with a sad smile. “She was killed in a whitewater rafting accident the summer before my sister and I started high school. Grandma Myers became our full-time caretaker, raising us alone through those troubling teen years and loving us until she passed away when we were seventeen. Thankfully we were able to avoid being placed into the system. We both had part-time jobs outside of school and were just shy of turning eighteen, so the judge granted us our emancipation.”
He couldn’t even fathom what it had been like to live the kind of life she and Summer had. Tucker found himself wanting to wrap Autumn in a comforting embrace, just as he had the evening before. Thankfully there was a table between them to hold him in place. But that didn’t keep his heart from going out to her. Life hadn’t been easy for Autumn or Summer. Not only because of the losses they had suffered, but because of the love they’d been denied by their parents. He sent up a silent prayer of thanks to the Lord for blessing him and his brothers with a tight-knit family whose foundation was built on love and faith.
“I’m sorry,” he said, not knowing what else to say.
She met his gaze, her own glistening with unshed tears. “It was a long time ago.” Reaching up, she fingered a small gold cross that hung from a delicate gold chain around her neck.
“Your mother’s?” he asked, nodding toward the cross.
“My grandma’s,” she replied. “She used to tell us it was a reminder of her faith. That wearing it close to her heart helped her to stay strong when times were tough.” She let her hand fall away. “Summer didn’t care for jewelry, so Grandma Myers left it to me in her will.”
He had to imagine Autumn had sought comfort from that precious family heirloom quite often since Summer’s passing. Grief was a hard road to travel. Even more so when one tried to walk it alone. He knew that firsthand.
“Are you still in contact with friends back in Texas?” he pressed, needing to know she wasn’t completely alone. That she still had someone she could turn to.
“Yes. My best friend lives in Braxton,” she answered, and relief swept through him. “Hope moved back to town right before I left for Wyoming, but we stay in touch.”
“It’s good to know you at least have her to call and talk to when you’re feeling down.” It was long-distance comfort, but it was better than nothing at all.
“Oh, I wouldn’t do that to her,” Autumn said, shaking her head.
“Excuse me?”
“Hope went through a really rough time emotionally after leaving Braxton. Now that she’s home and has finally found real joy in her life—” she paused, a smile returning to her pretty face as she thought about her friend “—having reunited with and finally married her high school sweetheart, the last thing I would wanna do is bring her down with my troubles. Not that Hope doesn’t call to check up on me. I make sure to keep things light, and usually manage to redirect the conversation so we end up discussing her and Logan instead.”
“Autumn, she’s your best friend,” he said with a disapproving frown. “I would think she’d want to know when you’re feeling down.”
“If things become too much to bear, I’ll turn to Hope,” she assured him. “But I tend to have pretty strong shoulders. Last week being the exception. And I have the Lord to turn to, even if he doesn’t answer my every prayer.”
He knew without her saying that Autumn was referring to Summer’s dying. He and Autumn had more in common than Tucker thought. They both refused to burden others with their emotional hardships, instead suffering the hurt they harbored inside in silence. He had to admit that it had felt surprisingly good to open up to her about the loss of his own sister. Like a piece of his long-withheld grief over the loss of his sister was finally lifted. He could only pray their talk, brief as it may have been, had offered her the same bit of solace.
“Aunt Autumn?”
Her head snapped around at the sound of her name being called out. “I’m in the kitchen with your daddy.”
Blue wandered in all sleepy eyed, her red-brown curls hanging limply over her tiny face. “Are we gonna go see the butterflies this morning?”
“Not this morning, sweetie,” Autumn replied. “Your daddy has work to do.”
His daughter’s lower lip pushed outward. She would go visit her butterflies every day if she had her way. They’d already been back to see them several times. Tucker made sure to take a different route across the ranch each time to get to the base of the hill, giving Blue closer glimpses of the broncs from behind the safety of his truck’s window. Each time, he noticed her watching the galloping herd with more and more interest.
“While I can’t drive you to see the butterflies this morning, I’d like to show you my barn,” Tucker said with a smile.
Blue’s expression grew uneasy. “Are there horses in there?”
Since they’d arrived, his daughter had steered clear of his barn and his two saddle horses. Other than giving her the opportun
ity to be close to horses while inside his truck, he hadn’t pushed Blue for more. He had, however, done a fair amount of praying that the Lord would help her make peace with her fears, her nightmares included. And seeing as how his daughter hadn’t had a single nightmare since coming to Bent Creek, he knew the Lord had been listening.
“I’m pretty sure my saddle horses are waiting outside in their pen for their morning grain. Would you like to help me feed them this morning?”
“Tucker...” Autumn said softly, no doubt trying to remind him of Blue’s fear when it came to horses.
He hadn’t forgotten, but he also knew that his daughter needed to face her fears or she would never overcome them. His gaze shifted back to Blue. “What do you say, sweetheart? Want to help Daddy feed his horses this morning?”
Blue took a step back, shaking her head. “I don’t like horses.”
His smile threatened to sag at his daughter’s declaration, but he forced it to remain intact. Tucker wanted so badly to make her fears go away, but seeing the wary look that filled Blue’s eyes and pinched her features had him second-guessing his efforts to help her.
“If you don’t want to,” he began, wondering why he’d ever thought suggesting Blue help him feed his horses that morning was a good idea, “then—”
“I have an idea,” Autumn said, cutting him off with a cheery smile aimed in his daughter’s direction. “We haven’t gotten to see inside your daddy’s barn yet and I’d really like to. Why don’t you and I walk out with him and just watch while he feeds his horses?” Before Blue could turn the suggestion down, or run from the room in a panic, she added, “We can stand on the other side of the fence and watch while his horses eat their breakfast. Just like we used to do with your momma. Then maybe afterward, your daddy will have time to give us a quick tour of his barn.”