Ava blinked up at her dad with childlike innocence. “But what does that have to do with me helping Caley?”
“
Miss
Caley,” Brady corrected. He shook his head, a reluctant grin taking dominance over his shadowed expression. “And I guess not much. I’m the one stressing over figuring this out, not you.”
“Then can I start right now?” Ava leaned down and picked up the box of pillows and bird feeders from the ground, as if in effort to prove her work ethic.
“It really is okay. I can’t eat those cookies alone, you know.” Caley grinned, hooking one finger through Scooter’s collar before he knocked over Ava and her box.
Brady pulled his cell phone from his back jeans pocket and checked the time. “Just until suppertime. You know Mary doesn’t like us to be late for dinner.” He replaced his phone and offered Caley a quick wink that not only surprised her, but automatically made her insides flutter with a swarm of line-dancing butterflies. “And I don’t like cold potatoes.”
Ha. So he wasn’t all uptight, after all—just stressed over figuring out a new routine. She’d been there. Odd how she already had so much in common with her neighbors. Maybe her coming back to Broken Bend was for more than Nonie, after all. She’d have to be careful, though. She didn’t do the commitment thing. But maybe she could somehow find a way to help this handsome cowboy and his adorable daughter and forget her own troubles for a while.
Temporarily, of course.
* * *
That new neighbor was going to be trouble.
Brady could feel it in his bones. Just like his achy right knee meant it was going to rain later that night, he just knew he was going to eventually regret living next door to Caley Foster. Even if she was the prettiest thing he’d seen in a long time.
Or maybe
because
she was the prettiest thing he’d seen in a long time.
Brady swung easily over the fence separating his property from Caley’s rental and strolled back to his horse, Nugget, grazing several yards away. Ava had taken to Caley quickly, and against his better judgment, so had he. And why wouldn’t they? With those bright green eyes and charmingly messy blond hair—not to mention her grit and ability to take care of herself—Caley Foster seemed like a fresh breeze wafting through Broken Bend.
He just didn’t have much room in his life for gusts of wind these days.
Still, there was something unique about a woman who moved cross-country by herself to take care of her grandmother in the nursing home—something that spoke of goodness and light. Something he didn’t get much of these days, not with him and Ava constantly beating their heads like a couple of battering rams.
Nothing was the same anymore, and the new normal they’d created as a family of two instead of three felt awkward even at the best of times. A knot tightened in Brady’s throat and he swallowed against it, though he knew the effort would be as wasted as trying to convince Ava she didn’t belong on a workhorse beside him. A horse had killed her mom, and though everyone in town deemed it an accident, Brady knew better. It was his fault. He shouldn’t have allowed Jessica on that high-strung beast in the first place, shouldn’t have allowed her to insist she could handle it. Even though four years had passed, he couldn’t erase the image of the stallion’s flat ears and wide eyes before he reared up and threw Jessica off. Some memories were impossible to forget.
And some he was determined never to repeat. The farther away Ava stayed from the dangerous animals he worked around daily, the better off she was. She belonged in the house, where it was safe, with Mary. If he could, he’d up and move them somewhere else entirely, but Brady couldn’t sell his livelihood. It ran through his blood. He had no way to make a living besides maintaining the land and animals that had been passed down to him from two generations before. The difference was,
he
knew what he was doing—a ten-year-old girl did not. He refused to allow anyone else he loved to be harmed.
Brady swung up on Nugget’s back and nudged the horse toward the back forty acres, eyes automatically scanning the area for smoke. He’d gotten a little paranoid after the local fire department had issued a widespread warning about seasonal brush fires. The early-autumn winds and leftover summer temps could cause an issue in moments. Bad enough for any rancher—doubly bad for him, specifically.
He shook off the memories that threatened to lodge, reminding himself he wasn’t a child anymore. He wasn’t trying to prove himself on a daredevil prank, and he certainly wasn’t trapped in a burning basement. He had plenty of issues to deal with now without being burdened by what wasn’t real any longer—like Mary leaving, for example. He
must
be preoccupied to have left his daughter with a near stranger, but everything about Caley rang sincere and honest. Maybe it’d be good for Ava to make friends with a woman.
Besides, he’d told his daughter “no” so many times lately, Brady didn’t think he could handle one more disappointed flash of her blue eyes.
He urged Nugget into a lope and rocked along with the familiar, comforting gait. He might be calloused from life, but he wasn’t totally hard-hearted.
Yet, anyway.
Chapter Two
“T
his box is marked
bath towels,
but it’s full of Christmas ornaments.” Ava held up a giant cupcake ornament. The pink-and-green icing sparkled under the light from the dusty ceiling fan overhead as it twirled from her finger.
Caley propped her favorite—and only—painting against the living room wall and strode across the matted carpet to peer inside Ava’s box. “You’re right. I must have mixed them up last time I packed. So I guess the box marked
ornaments
is full of—”
“Dish towels?” Ava supplied.
Caley grinned. “I was going to guess silverware.”
Ava snorted. “How often do you move, anyway?” She held a smaller box up for Caley to see how worn the bottom was. “Some of these boxes look...tired.”
That was putting it nicely. “Pretty often. I like to travel, keep things interesting.” More like keep from feeling too much, remembering. Regretting.
“That sounds like fun.” Ava nestled the cupcake ornament back into the tissue paper, and folded the box shut. “We hardly ever leave the ranch. I know Dad would never move anywhere.”
“What about vacations?” Caley found a box marked
cleaning supplies
and dug inside for a duster to clean the fan. She came up with a hammer instead, which she laid on the floor beside her beloved picture of a firefighter. She’d hang it later. “Do you and your dad ever take trips together?”
“We went to Dallas last year for a weekend, and he bought me some new shoes.” Ava closed the ornament box and set it gently against the far wall, out of the way.
Dallas? That was maybe four hours away. Not much of a vacation—especially considering Brady could get Ava shoes at Walmart one county over. No wonder Ava and her dad seemed so strained. Did he ever take time away from the ranch to just hang out with her?
But it really wasn’t Caley’s business—however much she wanted to make it so.
Don’t get involved. You’re not going to be here long enough to make it count.
Story of her life. But it was safer that way. The fewer people whose lives she impacted personally, the better off they were. She’d stick to saving lives via the anonymity of the fire department. The emotional connections she’d leave up to someone else.
“I’ve been asking for a trip to Disney World for my birthday next year, but Dad says he can’t leave the ranch for that long. Not even with Uncle Max here to help.” Ava tossed a red throw pillow onto the worn blue love seat and shrugged as though it didn’t matter.
But Caley knew from experience it did. Would things have been different between her and her own father growing up if he’d invested time in the little things after Mom left? Into the fun stuff that made memories? Instead, Caley grew up and had to go make her own memories alone. The first time she skydived, she’d been about ready to lose her breakfast inside the plane, but the thrill of the adventure to come pressed her forward. Why couldn’t her father have ever taken the opportunity to be spontaneous? To trust? To
live?
He couldn’t do any of those things now, not from the Broken Bend graveyard twelve miles up the road. Regret rolled over in its familiar spot in her stomach. Her childhood might not have been ideal, but she still wished she had been given one more chance to redeem it.
Hopefully it wasn’t too late for her and Nonie.
“You must really like firefighters.” Ava lifted a decorative candle engraved with the Maltese cross from a box and wiggled it at Caley, shaking her from her negative track of thoughts. “First that giant picture, now this.”
“That’s because I am one.” She winked and set the candle on a shelf built above the TV stand.
“Awesome.” Ava stared at Caley with newfound respect.
She bit back a snort. Too bad adults weren’t as easily impressed with female firefighters.
Ava continued with her awestruck gaze. “Do you really put fires out and everything?”
“Yes, and help people who are hurt.” She took the lid off a flat storage bin and grinned at Ava. “Hey, I found the silverware.”
Ava scooted over to her and rummaged through the box. “And your alarm clock.” She giggled.
“Next move, I’ll be better organized.” Definitely couldn’t be worse. She hefted the box onto her hip and moved into the open kitchen to begin loading the drawers. “Why don’t you go plug the clock into the outlet by the mattress?” She didn’t own an actual bed; it was too complicated since she moved so often. A mattress on the floor with a pile of her grandmother’s old-fashioned quilts worked just as well, and the early memories those blankets stirred up kept her warmer than any down comforter could.
“You should definitely get more organized, but I hope you don’t move again soon.” Ava hesitated in the doorway separating Caley’s bedroom from the living room. She ducked her head a little, the expression in her eyes cautious, yet sincere. “You’re really fun.” She offered a slight smile before disappearing around the corner with the clock.
Caley’s hands stilled on the pile of silverware she’d been separating into the divider. She didn’t know how long she’d have to stay in Broken Bend, but it wouldn’t do anyone any good to get attached. Still, something about Ava drew her like a magnet—or maybe more like a mama duck to a duckling. She’d read enough self-help books over the years, though, to know that butting into Ava’s life in some pathetic effort to make up for her own childhood wouldn’t accomplish anything.
And as for Ava’s dad—well, Caley couldn’t think about that particular connection. Mama duckling was one thing, but the attraction she’d felt at first sight for Brady McCollough was certainly nothing to pursue. She’d do everyone a favor if she kept to herself and stayed as invisible as possible while she did her time in Broken Bend. Soon enough she’d be somewhere else, a distant memory of a fun neighbor Ava once had. Maybe she could leave some good behind her before she went.
But she was definitely going.
“Look what I found! Kitchen towels!” Ava rushed into the kitchen with a box labeled
dishes
in bold marker and grinned.
“Good job, detective. They can go in here.” Caley laughed as she pulled open a drawer, and Ava began filling it with the assortment of mismatched rags.
The younger girl paused and squinted, lips twitched to one side. “So do you think the box marked
dishes
will have bathroom towels in it?”
“You know what?” Caley shut the silverware drawer with her hip and wrapped one arm around Ava, joy filling her heart despite her earlier reservations. She squeezed Ava tight and grinned, determined not to let the inevitable spoil the moment. “I think you’re catching on.”
* * *
Brady knocked on Caley’s front door, then stepped back while he waited. Scooter pranced at his feet, shamelessly begging for a treat. Caley must have left him outside while they unpacked. From the holes the dog had already dug in the poor excuse for a flowerbed by the porch, that had probably been a good idea.
Loud laughter suddenly rang from inside the house, followed by a blast of country music. Brady frowned and knocked again. Mary would have supper ready any minute, and after the afternoon he had spent on the phone, scrambling to find a temporary babysitter, he was ready to sit, eat—and pray for mercy.
The door swung open, offering a rush of boot-scootin’ lyrics and Ava’s wide white grin. But her face morphed into panic as their eyes locked. “Dad! I was going to come home on time, I promise.” She looked at her wrist, but must have forgotten her watch, because her arm was bare. She rubbed the spot it should have rested and turned pleading eyes to him.
The anxiety in her expression chafed Brady’s heart, and he cleared his throat. He knew they hadn’t been exactly close lately, but was she actually afraid of making him mad over little things now? He would have never given himself a Dad of the Year award, but this realization stung. When had he gotten so bad?
“Don’t worry, you’re not in trouble.” He plucked a dust bunny off Ava’s shirtsleeve and wiped it on his jeans. “Looks like you’ve been working hard.”
“We both have. It was fun—like a treasure hunt.” Ava’s face lit back up as though he’d plugged it in, and jealousy sparked in his stomach. His daughter had more fun with a near stranger in two hours’ time than she did with him. Though he couldn’t remember the last time he’d spent two hours in a row doing something with her other than chores—or fussing.
Ava slipped outside, half shutting the door to block the music from within. “And Caley has this really funny way of labeling boxes. You wouldn’t believe—”
Brady interrupted. “
Miss
Caley. She’s an adult.”
“Yes, sir.” Ava’s shoulders slumped, light extinguished. “I won’t forget again. Sorry.”
“It’s not—” Brady rubbed his fingers down his cheeks, frustration rising inside. He wanted to tell her not to apologize, not to think of him as an ogre, but he couldn’t find the words. So he dropped his hands to his sides and shrugged. “Listen, I’m sure you’ve done a great job for Miss Caley. I just wanted to walk you home, since it’s getting dark now. Supper’s ready.”
Ava nodded, though she still didn’t light up like she had before. Was the thought of going home that disappointing? His throat tightened into a knot. “Let me just tell Caley—I mean, Miss Caley—that I’m leaving.”
Brady stepped over the threshold, following Ava inside the house, and turned the corner of the short entranceway in time to see Caley standing on a dining room chair, dusting the ceiling fan with a feathery contraption on a stick. She swung her hips in time to the music still blaring from what had to be the world’s oldest stereo, perched on the dining table by the kitchen door. Brady couldn’t help the grin sliding across his face, and he leaned against the door frame, content to watch. Maybe supper
could
wait for some things.
“Miss Caley?” Ava cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled louder. “Miss Caley!”
Caley turned around with a jerk, balancing herself by catching a fan blade in one hand. Her eyes landed on Brady, and she flushed. “Oh, hey.” She grinned, cheeks flaming as Ava ran to turn down the music. “Um, I found the duster.” She wielded it as proof, whatever that thing was. Good thing Mary took care of the cleaning around the ranch house, though Brady had certainly never seen her do
that.
He ambled upright and crossed his arms over his chest. “I see you’ve both been busy.” And had probably accomplished a lot more than he had, running into dead end after dead end in the babysitting department. The teens that his church secretary recommended were too young for his comfort level, and the older ladies had too many stipulations and couldn’t conform to his needed schedule. Looked as though he’d be calling an agency next—but what were the odds that residents of a small town like Broken Bend signed up for those organized programs? Would a nanny be willing to commute to town almost every day?
Caley hopped down from the chair, breaking his stressful chain of thought, and Brady mentally kicked himself for not having offered his hand to help her. Everything about Caley seemed so confident and capable, though, that it took him off guard. His wife had definitely been the opposite.
“We’ve gotten a lot done, though it still looks like a wreck.” She grinned. “I’m used to it, though. It always takes making a bigger mess before you get it clean.”
No doubt about that. His life could be a prime example. But he wasn’t interested in sorting through the rubble. He’d done that for years without seeing results—positive ones, anyway. He sat through church these days for Ava’s sake, and Ava’s sake alone. She needed the foundation, but his had long since crumbled.
Brady cleared his throat. “Ava and I need to get home for supper. It’s going to be the last decent one we have for a while.” Oops. He hadn’t meant to let that slip. He must be more tired than he thought.
Ava’s eyes narrowed with suspicion—probably because she knew he couldn’t boil a pot of water to save anyone’s life. “No luck finding me a sitter?”
“Not yet.” He ran a hand over his jaw, the stubble whisking across his palm. “I’m going to have to—”
“What about Caley?” The sparkle in Ava’s eyes burst into a roaring flame of hope as she brought both hands up to her chin in a pleading position. “I mean, Miss Caley.”
“Me?” Caley pulled slightly away from Ava to look at her more directly, overly dramatized shock radiating from her eyes. “Babysit?
You?
”
Ava’s face fell. “Is it that bad of an idea?”
Yes.
Brady opened his mouth to speak the truth, to tell Ava that there was no way Caley needed to come over to their house—his domain—and take care of them. Feed them. Clean up after them.
Invade his territory with her cinnamon scent and uncanny ability to stir feelings long dormant.
“I’m kidding!” Caley laughed and hip-bumped Ava, who bounced off her side, giggling. “I think it’s a perfect idea!” Then she sobered. “As long as your dad thinks so, of course.” As if on cue, both of them linked arms and turned doe eyes on him.
Perfect idea? More like the worst. He needed a kind older woman who was in agreement with his firm rules for Ava—not a hip young woman who acted more like Ava’s older sister than an adult. Ava didn’t need fun right now. She needed structure. Security.
Safety.
So did he. One look at the playful pout turning down Caley’s full lips, and safe was the last thing Brady felt. Something about Caley seemed way too dangerous. Not in an ax-murderer-next-door kind of way, but in a she’s-gonna-weasel-into-your-heart kind of way. He hadn’t thought much about romance since Jessica’s death—who had the time between the frequent guilt trips and running a ranch?—but Caley’s teasing eyes and trim figure coaxed to life embers he’d thought long dead. Being around her any more than necessary seemed incredibly risky.
And he didn’t take risks.
“It’s not just babysitting, Ava. It’s cooking and housekeeping, too.”
Caley shrugged. “I’m still in.”
He started shaking his head, mind racing through the implications of letting Caley that close, until Ava piped up once again. “Dad, who else is there to hire at the last minute? Miss Caley just said today that she needed to find a job soon. This works for everyone!”