her chest. “Surprise!”
“You are full of them.” He pressed a kiss against the side of her head and lowered her to the ground. “Let’s not do that again, okay?” The second her feet hit the dirt, he swore the earth quaked. She darted to the fence line and stared out at the endless pasture dotted with horses and cattle.
Chance lost his breath. His little girl barely reached the middle section of barbed wire, but the sight of her standing before the Montana sky, the Rockies framing her in purple-hazed perfection, her new jeans and bright yellow shirt shining and the sunlight catching against her hair, he wondered where the time had gone. Had it really been almost five years since the doctors had first set her in his trembling hands? Chance took a long, deep breath. Whatever the next few days, weeks or years brought, this was what he needed to remember. This moment. This sight.
Not that he was already counting the minutes until he could leave. Frustration edged its way around the calm. What was he thinking, letting Ty goad him into coming back? There was nothing for him here. Nothing except bitter memories of a place where he never belonged and a family he’d never fit into. Forget being a square peg in a round hole. For Chance, he’d always felt like a banjo in an orchestra. How many times had his brothers and grandfather teased him that he was, in fact, the worst cowboy to ever saddle a horse?
Now, as irony often snagged the last word, it would be up to him what happened with the place? As far as he was concerned, they should sell to the highest bidder and be done with it. It would ease the financial pressures building up on him and possibly help him decide which school Rosie would attend next year. Although Felix had high hopes this place would reignite that creativity he’d been thirsting for.
Yep. He stared out at the emptiness of the land. They needed to sell.
Which meant this was going to be a very short visit.
Besides, he had three weeks before Felix was back from making the rounds on his search for new talent. If Chance had new material by then, his star just might rise again. If he didn’t...
His career would be over.
The land stared back at him, accusing. He didn’t want the memories. Not of his brothers, or the parents he barely remembered, not to mention his grandfather, who had only berated or ignored Chance’s interest in music. He certainly didn’t want to think of Maura and how she was as ingrained here as much as she was in his heart.
But it was the thought of his late wife that loosened the tension in his jaw. For an instant, he could all but see her, red hair flowing behind her, as she rode Fairweather, her favorite horse, across the rolling hills, her laughter ringing in the air like wind chimes in a summer storm. Huh.
Chance blinked and pulled out the notebook he kept close at hand. He scribbled down the thoughts, on the off chance they might lead to something productive. Something that would ease Felix’s doom-and-gloom protestations that Chance’s career might never resurge.
“Daddy, look!” Rosie’s cry shot him out of his reverie. He looked up to find Rosie pointing to a horse and rider in the distance headed toward them. A smaller animal trotted alongside in a scene straight out of a Zane Grey novel.
Chance joined Rosie at the fence, his pulse hammering as he debated which brother would be the first to welcome him home. Not that he expected much of a welcome. Jon had his own organic spread, the JB Bar Ranch, nearby. Ethan was just getting his veterinary practice off the ground. Ben was currently lawyering with his new wife, Rachel, and living at the Double T, and Ty...well, Ty knew better than to be the welcoming committee.
As the horse drew closer, the pounding of hoofbeats vibrated across the land. If he squinted, he could make out the rider’s features. Along the edges of the worn tan hat, a flash of red caught the sun. His mouth went dry as the rider came to a halt on the other side of the fence. For a long moment, they stared at one another, Chance nearly falling into the bottomless green eyes so reminiscent of Rosie’s and Maura’s. But while the color was the same, the independent, determined spark could only belong to one person.
“Hello, Katie.” Chance rested his hand on Rosie’s curl-topped head as his heart skipped a beat.
“Chance.” Her smile seemed a bit strained, her freckled face a bit pale, and her hands gripped the reins hard enough that her knuckles had gone white. Apparently he wasn’t the only one apprehensive about his homecoming. The black-and-white Australian cattle dog woofed and quirked its head as if suggesting introductions were in order.
“Aunt Katie?” Rosie looked up at him.
Chance nodded and drew Rosie against him as Katie Montgomery bounded off her horse and removed her leather gloves. She stuffed them in the back pocket of her snug, worn jeans and walked toward them. “Well, who do we have here?” She narrowed her eyes and leaned over to peer closer at Rosie, the trepidation on her face fading as she looked at her niece in person for the first time.
“It’s us, Aunt Katie!” Rosie broke free of Chance’s hold and darted forward. “It’s me, Rosie and Daddy!”
“Careful, Little Miss!” Katie chided as Rosie wedged herself under the bottom line of wire.
Katie gave Chance a quick glance before she dropped to her knees and wrapped her arms tight around his daughter. “Oh, Rosie.” Katie dropped kisses on both of Rosie’s cheeks before hugging her again. “I’m so happy to see you. I’m so glad you’re here. Careful, Hip.” She brushed a quick hand over the dog’s back in reassurance.
Chance saw the tears in Katie’s eyes before she squeezed them shut. She may have had her older sister’s eyes and the same fire-red hair, but the resemblance ended there. Where Maura had been soft around the edges, girly, flirty, tall and willowy, Katie was compact, edgy, curvy and all cowgirl. Maura’s dreams had been focused on being anywhere but Montana, while Katie had been firmly situated on Blackwell land, working alongside her father for as far back as Chance could remember. She loved this place just as much—and probably more—than any Blackwell brother ever had. She’d bled, sweated and worked for it. When they sold the place, he hoped the new owners would realize the prize they had in her and keep her on.
But for now, all he could do was watch as Katie and Rosie giggled and hugged and giggled some more. To see his daughter this giddy made the excruciating drive worth it.
“You’re as beautiful as you are in your pictures.” Katie rocked Rosie back and forth until the little girl squirmed. Rosie knocked Katie’s hat off her head as Katie got to her feet and swung Rosie around in a circle. Katie’s dog barked and hopped along with them.
“Daddy said you’d be happy to see me.” Rosie looked back at Chance when she was back on her feet. “You said so, right, Daddy?”
“I did.” Chance barely recognized his own voice. Seeing them together, he couldn’t help but imagine the same scene with Maura. Maura, who had died just before Rosie turned three. Maura, who, once the chemo had taken its talon-sharp hold, hadn’t been able to swing her daughter in her arms or smother a giggling little girl with kisses. But Katie wasn’t Maura. As his lips pulled into a wide, genuine smile, the regret melted away. She wasn’t Maura. No one ever would be. And that, he realized, was okay.
“Welcome home.” Katie grinned, but he suspected it was more for Rosie than him.
He glanced at his minivan, which had yet to cross the border onto the family property. “Not quite.”
“Close enough.” Katie shrugged. “Ty wasn’t sure when
