The Cowboy’s Second Chance Family (Wells Brothers Book 3)
Wells Brothers
The Rancher’s City Girl
The Cowboy’s Baby Agreement
The Cowboy’s Second Chance Family
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales, is entirely coincidental.
RELAY PUBLISHING EDITION, SEPTEMBER 2020
Copyright © 2020 Relay Publishing Ltd.
All rights reserved. Published in the United Kingdom by Relay Publishing. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Leslie North is a pen name created by Relay Publishing for co-authored Romance projects. Relay Publishing works with incredible teams of writers and editors to collaboratively create the very best stories for our readers.
Cover design by Mayhem Cover Creations.
www.relaypub.com
Blurb
Avery Collins is stunned when her ex, Tucker Wells, stumbles through her door during a snowstorm, pretending ten years haven’t gone by since he broke her heart. Tucker was the love of her life—and the father of their daughter, Shanna—and now he’s claiming amnesia. Well, Avery’s not buying it. At least not at first. What happened to the man who said he didn’t want children, who told her becoming a veterinarian would be a huge mistake? This Tucker is bonding with Shanna and praising Avery’s practice. He’s acting like a better, nicer, sexier version of the boy she once loved. As Shanna’s father, Tucker is definitely back in Avery’s life. But would it be so bad to let him back into her heart?
After years traveling the world as a photographer, Tucker wants to settle down and finally do his part on the family ranch. Though his mind is a bit muddled after falling from his horse, he’s thinking clearly enough to know two things: He’s still in love with Avery and he wants to get to know the daughter he’s just discovered he has. It’s clear, though, that Avery is more than a little wary of him—and for good reason: the story she tells of their breakup definitely paints him as a villain. He might not remember breaking her heart, but Tucker is determined to do what he can to make up for lost time. Yet the harder he tries, the more Avery pushes him away. If only he could remember what made him leave her all those years ago, then maybe he could find his way back to her now…
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(Wells Brothers Book Three)
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Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Epilogue
End of The Cowboy’s Second Chance Family
Thank You
About Leslie
Also by Leslie
1
Tucker’s middle brother, Liam, pushed a hand through hair that stuck up in all directions, then hauled open the barn door. He looked beat, and more than that, he looked guilty. “It’s a good thing you decided to stay here, Tucker. I’d go out myself, but—”
“Say no more.” Tucker Wells swung himself up into the saddle of Betty, the mare. “Somebody needs to look for the cows, and Mina needs you.”
“The ranch needs me, too.” Liam screwed up his mouth in a frown as Tucker rode by. “You know I’d send Danny if I had any other choice.”
“But you don’t,” said Tucker mildly. Danny, the foreman who’d been with them for years, had broken his leg trying to string lights up on his porch. The accident had happened before Christmas, but he was still laid up and would be for quite a while. “I’m here to help. You don’t have to feel bad about it.”
Tucker looked back to see his brother eying the sky. “Don’t go too far out of your way. They should be okay for the night if need be, but…”
“I’ve got it,” he called over his shoulder. “Go back inside. Tell Cade I’ll be back soon.”
Tucker hunched down in his coat. The winter wind already sliced through his jacket, making him wish he’d worn another layer or six. Still, he was glad he’d decided to stay at the ranch, even if it did mean he was freezing his butt off on a horse in the dark of a January evening. This one and every other evening in January, probably. He’d come home for Liam’s wedding in the fall and never hit the road again.
Something had shifted in him at that wedding, when he’d watched his brother cradle his tiny new son. Or maybe he’d just been tired and wanted a break from the travel. Or maybe he felt like life with his family was passing him by, quicker than a horse let off his reins.
And now, with Mina busy with the baby and Danny on medical leave, they needed extra hands. Mina would want Liam back at the farmhouse before dinner. That left Tucker to look for the small herd of cows that hadn’t returned on time, the way they usually did—hungry cows knew where to get their dinner. They’d been in the pasture on the other side of the road.
Tucker checked for headlights in both directions before urging Betty into a trot. The cows probably hadn’t gotten out of the pasture, but there was always a chance a part of the fence had been knocked down.
The first few snowflakes spiraled out of the bitter air as he and Betty crossed the street. It reminded Tucker of the first raindrops before a spring storm, and that was exactly how it went—within minutes, snow filled the air. He blew out a frosty breath.
“You ever seen snow kick up that fast, Betty?”
The horse put her ears back and gave a huff that sounded like disapproval.
“I know, I know. I’ll have you back in the barn before you know it.” He patted Betty’s neck. “And I’ll tell Mina you’d much prefer to do this with her.”
Mina wasn’t thrilled about having to step back from her duties around the farm, but she and Liam were stretched joyfully thin with their baby Weston. And what was family for, if not to step in during the times an extra hand was needed? Tucker had no problem with that. He’d felt a pull lately—like something calling him back to the family ranch. Now that he’d moved in to one of the smaller cabins on the property and fixed it up, he wanted to leave less and less every day.
But staying meant becoming a partner on the ranch—an equal partner. And becoming a partner meant pulling his weight. It would all work out, as long as he could prove to his brothers that he was in it for the long haul.
Tucker spotted the little herd of cows huddled next to a section of fence, standing close together to keep warm.
“There you are,” he called, a pleasantly warm relief flaring in his chest. “I’ve got an even warmer place you can stay.” He spurred Betty into action, the cold biting into his nose, and herded them away from the fence. The pasture sloped down toward the road from here, and far beneath he could see the Wells farmhouse. Beyond that, on the other edge of the property, squatted the little cabin he’d been staying in. He could feel the worn-in a
rmchair now—fireplace cranked up to high gear, his feet up on an ottoman, letting all the cold go out of him bit by bit.
The herd moved toward the right, up higher on the ridge, and Tucker guided Betty onto the outer edge. He needed to work them down toward the barn. Poor things must be confused about which way to go in the dark. Snow came thick and fast in their faces, and a thin layer already coated the flattened grass of the pasture.
“A snowstorm.” Tucker laughed. “It’s just my luck tonight. Hey, Betty, do you think—”
Betty lurched underneath him, her back arching, a powerful force moving through her. She stepped wrong, Tucker thought, and then he was airborne, body hurtling through the air. He had one moment of heart-stopping panic—where is the ground?—before the impact. It didn’t hurt hurt, but it did knock the wind out of him. The world around him went black.
Tucker shook his head, once, then twice, blinking into a cloud of white.
What was that?
He lifted his head from the ground. It protested, aching, and when he got himself upright, the cold scraped across his skin. Tucker reached for his face with gloved hands and swiped away a layer of snow. A layer? It covered his coat, his pants, everything. What had happened?
Thoughts moved languidly through his mind, refusing to pick up the pace. Nearby, in the whipping wind, a horse stood with her head near the ground, searching for grass.
“Betty.” He’d been riding, he remembered that. But where had he been going? Probably to shoot some photos for one of his brothers. That sounded right, only…where was his camera? Tucker stood up gingerly, pain ringing through his head. He stumbled on the way over to Betty but righted himself at the last minute. His body felt disconnected from his brain somehow. His arms and legs lagged behind. He got one foot in the saddle, but Betty shied away the moment he tried to put his weight on her. Fine, then. Tucker grabbed the reins and swiped at his eyes again. So much snow.
No matter which way he looked, there was no seeing through the snow.
“Stay calm,” he told himself. “You’ve gotta keep moving.”
It wasn’t an option, on a cold night like this, to stand around shivering until the snow stopped. He wasn’t dressed for that. So he tugged on Betty’s reins, picked a direction, and walked. The fence was the first landmark they passed. He couldn’t say which fence it was, but its existence was a good sign—they were on someone’s property. It looked vaguely familiar, too. Maybe it was his own fence, back home.
He took Betty through the gate and closed it behind him. The wind kicked up again, clearing a path through the snow, and—there. A house. A house and some outbuildings. Oh, sweet relief—Dr. Oates’ house. Everybody knew Dr. Oates, the veterinarian from town.
“Thanks be,” Tucker murmured. Smoke came from the chimney, which meant the old doctor was home. Lucky. He made so many house calls that his own bed was hardly slept in.
He and Betty made cautious progress down the side of the ridge, picking their way across the Oates property. Surely, Dr. Oates wouldn’t mind if he put Betty up in his barn for a few minutes, just so she could warm up? It was a little weird, yes, but the veterinarian would understand. Tucker led Betty into the barn, put her in a stall, and rubbed his hands together.
“I’ll be back,” he told her. “Real soon. Don’t worry.”
But the vague sense of worry that dogged him didn’t belong to Betty.
Tucker climbed up on the front porch, drinking in the light that poured from the big picture window in front. He just needed a minute to warm up, that was all. Then he’d go back to—
Where had he come from, again?
He raised a hand and knocked on the door.
Fast footsteps sounded behind it, and it swung open a moment later to reveal a girl.
A girl with the same blue eyes and dark hair as his girlfriend.
“Wow.” His mouth had let the word out into the air without consulting him. “You look just like Avery.”
She cocked her head to the side, a curious glint in her eyes. Then the girl turned. “Hey, Mom? There’s a guy at the door.”
Tucker laughed out loud. “A guy. Wait ’til Avery finds out that you said…” Something else about what she’d said hit him full force. “Wait. Mom?”
Avery stepped out from another door down the hall, and Tucker’s heart flip-flopped down into his shoes. She looked older than he remembered. How could she have gotten older, when he’d seen her just the other day? But wow, was she ever beautiful. Heat washed over his skin at the sight of her, followed quickly by another wave of shock.
“Avery, what’s going on? I didn’t know you were working here this vacation.” Something didn’t compute in his brain.
She came up next to the girl—her daughter?—and put a hand on the doorframe, looking at him with such emotion in her eyes that it made his mouth go dry. “Doc Oates retired. What do you want, Tucker?”
What did he want? What kind of question was that?
“I don’t understand.” Nothing quite fit together, like a puzzle with all the wrong pieces. “Why don’t you live with your parents?”
Avery arched an eyebrow, the way she always did when he was being deliberately obtuse. “Because they sold their house and moved.”
“But why—” He put a hand to one temple and rubbed at the pain pulsing underneath. “Why would they have moved?”
Avery’s face went cold, and he saw all the old signs of irritation creeping in—the tension in her jaw, the slightly flared nostrils. She’d just opened her mouth to speak when he took his hand away from his temple and found it covered in blood.
Oh. Blood.
“You mad about something, Avery?” He wanted to understand so badly that he didn’t bother with the blood. It would stop, or it wouldn’t. “Tell me what it is. I’ll do better.”
Her face softened, concern coming into her eyes.
“Why don’t you come in a minute, Tucker? Let me take a look at that.” Avery ushered him inside, the warmth in the house feeling as good as winning the lottery. “This way. Right through here, to the kitchen. Did you come here by yourself, or did you ride here?”
“I put my horse in the barn.” His tongue felt thick in his mouth. “Hope that’s okay.”
“Sure it is.” She led him down the hall to the kitchen and sat him in one of the chairs by the table while she gathered supplies. “You’ve got a cut on your head. I’m going to bandage it up, but I want to clean it.”
Avery’s touch was so gentle, so careful. He found himself leaning into it. She stepped back. It froze his blood in his veins. What had happened? What had made her so angry, so cold? She held herself pointedly away while she applied some butterfly bandages to the cut above his temple.
Then she came around to stand in front of him.
“You probably have a concussion.” Avery surveyed him with her gorgeous blue eyes, the color of the sky and burning with intelligence. “You’ll need to get it checked out at the hospital as soon as you can.”
He heard what she was saying, but the thing was—the thing was—Tucker couldn’t take his eyes off her.
“You look older,” he finally managed.
Avery flicked her eyes toward the ceiling. “Well, of course I do, Tuck.”
“What—” Something dawned on him, slowly, painfully slowly. “What year is it?”
She named the year.
Tucker felt like he’d walked straight off the edge of a high cliff and plummeted toward the ground. Confusion battled with irritation.
“Is that a prank, Avery?” He frowned at her. This was by far the worst headache he’d ever had. “You look older, but—are you kidding me?” He stood up and went down the hall to the bathroom. He’d been here so many times growing up, to get the doctor or to pick something up from him. Tucker flicked on the light and peered at his own reflection. He cursed under his breath. He looked older too.
“Mom? What’s he doing? Who is that guy?”
The little girl’s voice rang out fro
m the kitchen, clear as a bell.
“Shanna, he’s—” Avery’s voice trailed off. So the girl’s name was Shanna. Avery’s daughter. He felt vaguely ill. When had she had a baby?
“Tucker?” Avery appeared in the doorway to the bathroom. “Are you all right?”
“I’ve got amnesia,” he blurted. “It’s the only thing that makes sense, because—I can’t remember. The time must’ve gone by, but I can’t remember it.” Shanna came to stand in the hall behind her mother. “You have to help me out, here.”
Avery shot him a skeptical look. “Yeah? Amnesia? Is that what you think?”
Frustration twisted in his chest, constricting his heart. “Why are you being so aloof with me?” He didn’t understand, and that lack of understanding felt like a knife wedged between his ribs. “I don’t understand what’s going on.”
“Why don’t I give you a ride home?” His heart beat faster, fighting against this quick dismissal. “I’ve got the truck out front. We can hop in and be there in a couple of minutes. You can collect your horse tomorrow.”
“Fine. Great.” Tucker followed her to the front door.
The snow came down hard outside, and Avery stopped at the front door, looking out.
A whiteout.
“Doesn’t look like good driving weather,” Tucker put in.
“No.” She turned around and crossed her arms over her chest. “You can stay here until the storm passes, but this isn’t going to be good. I need to get to my patients.”