She came seeking family...

Will she find love at Big Heart Ranch?

When pregnant single mother Hannah Vincent shows up professing to be the half sister of the Maxwells of Big Heart Ranch, horse trainer Tripp Walker is wary. Wounded before, he doesn’t trust easily. If only Hannah and her feisty five-year-old daughter weren’t so impossible to resist. Now, despite his doubts, joining this little family is quickly becoming the cautious cowboy’s greatest wish.

TINA RADCLIFFE has been dreaming and scribbling for years. Originally from Western New York, she left home for a tour of duty with the Army Security Agency stationed in Augsburg, Germany, and ended up in Tulsa, Oklahoma. Her past careers include certified oncology RN and library cataloger. She recently moved from Denver, Colorado, to the Phoenix, Arizona, area, where she writes heartwarming and fun inspirational romance.

Also by Susan Carlisle

Big Heart Ranch

Claiming Her Cowboy

Falling for the Cowgirl

Christmas with the Cowboy

Her Last Chance Cowboy

The Rancher’s Reunion

Oklahoma Reunion

Mending the Doctor’s Heart

Stranded with the Rancher

Safe in the Fireman’s Arms

Rocky Mountain Reunion

Rocky Mountain Cowboy

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

Her Last Chance Cowboy

Tina Radcliffe

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-09484-9

HER LAST CHANCE COWBOY

© 2019 Tina M. Radcliffe

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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Version: 2020-03-02

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“I’m not asking for pity, Hannah.”

“Good thing I wasn’t offering any.” Unable to resist, Hannah reached up and gently touched the scarred side of Tripp’s face.

He covered her hand with his and turned to face her. In that moment, something flickered in his eyes and his gaze almost became tender. Hannah’s chest tightened.

Then he released her hand and stepped away, his gaze returning to the mare.

“Mothers are supposed to protect their children,” Hannah said, her voice shaky.

“Doesn’t always work like that.” He nodded toward the brick houses in the distance, home to the children of Big Heart Ranch. “That’s what this place is all about.”

Tripp faced her again and leaned close. His gaze skimmed her face as though searching for something. Then he stuffed his hands into his pockets.

“It’s getting late,” he murmured. “Good night, Hannah.”

“Good night, Tripp.”

The cowboy walked away, leaving Hannah trying to figure out what had just happened. They’d passed some sort of milestone in their relationship, but she didn’t know if she should be pleased or terrified.

Dear Reader,

Thank you so much for joining me for this final installment in the Big Heart Ranch series.

Once again, we travel to Timber, Oklahoma, and the Maxwell family ranch for orphaned, abused and neglected children, where unconditional love and the good Lord reign.

Tripp Walker and Hannah Vincent’s love story is perhaps one of my favorites as it represents the fears and insecurities we all battle.

Writing this story was not without its challenges as I dug deep into their pasts to uncover the hurts and the dreams of two imperfect people made whole by God’s healing love as the Lord of second chances.

I hope you enjoy this tender and romantic story and its wonderful and humorous supporting cast that includes the wise Rue Butterfield and hilariously cantankerous Dutch Stevens.

Do drop me a note and let me know your thoughts. I can be reached through my website, www.tinaradcliffe.com, where you can also find Hannah and Tripp’s chili recipes. Additionally, Tripp was finally persuaded to share his secret carrot cake recipe.

Enjoy!

Sincerely,

Tina Radcliffe

Casting all your care upon him; for he careth for you.

—1 Peter 5:7

This final book in the Big Heart Ranch series is dedicated to the staff and children of Big Oak Ranch. Big Oak Ranch is a Christian home located in Alabama for children needing a chance. Find out more about them at www.bigoak.org.

Thank you to Tim at ARCpoint Labs for taking time to answer my numerous questions on DNA testing. All errors are my own.

A great deal of appreciation goes to my wonderful agent, Jessica Alvarez, for partnering with me on this series. Thank you, as well, to my editor, Dina Davis, who helped ensure that this last book of the Big Heart Ranch series was as heartfelt as the first.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Introduction

Dear Reader

Bible Verse

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Epilogue

Extract

About the Publisher

Chapter One

Trouble.

Tripp Walker sensed it the moment he drove around the bend. He hit the brakes as he came upon the beat-up silver Honda parked awkwardly on the shoulder of the two-lane road that led to Big Heart Ranch. Dangerous place to park, which no doubt meant the vehicle was disabled.

His gaze shot toward the sky to assess the weather. Several hours ago, a tornado watch had been issued for Osage County, Oklahoma. Conditions were ripe for dangerous storms and even a tornado. By the time Tripp finished his business in Pawhuska and passed through the small town of Timber, the watch had changed to a warning, meaning a tornado had been sighted.

Overhead, the angry gray clouds tinged with green crowded closer, making the threat of the first tornado of May all the more real.

When a ping hit the windshield and frozen pellets began to descend, Tripp made a split-second decision. Despite his need to get back to the ranch and out of the dangerous weather, he couldn’t ignore the disabled Honda. He parked a safe distance from the vehicle and flipped on his pickup’s emergency flashers.

Pulling up the collar of his denim jacket, Tripp reached for his cowboy hat before he got out. He inhaled. The air smelled like a storm was imminent. The smell of the ugly, some folks called it. Rain and ozone mixed together.

Hail continued to fall fast enough to form shallow puddles of white as he headed to the Honda and rapped his knuckles on the driver’s-side window.

The tinted window inched down a fraction and a woman’s big brown eyes met his gaze. She stared for a moment, no doubt taken aback by the scar that ran down the left side of his face, stopping right beneath his eye. After eighteen years, he was used to people staring.

“Ma’am, do you need assistance? Is everything okay?” he asked.

“Okay? Not lately,” she replied with a sigh.

“What’s wrong with your car?”

“Apparently, I ran out of gas.”

His glance swept the Honda, from the cracked windshield on the passenger side to the temporary tags hanging in the rear window. Colorado. Well, that explained the funny way the woman talked. Definitely not an Okie. But it didn’t explain why she was driving around in this weather. “Didn’t you hear the news of the tornado warning on your radio?”

“The radio is dead and my cell is off to save battery life.” The window inched down a little more and her gaze followed his to the dark sky. “Has a tornado been sighted?” she asked.

“Funnel cloud south of here.” Tripp frowned and turned back to the woman, whose face registered alarm.

“Why aren’t there any sirens?” she asked.

“Too far off the beaten track. The only thing up this road is Big Heart Ranch.”

“That’s where we’re going.”

He barely had time to register the word we when a little girl, about five or six years old, poked her head into the front seat. She pushed back a riot of orange curls and grinned up at him. “We want to go to the ranch and see horses, Mr. Cowboy.”

Tripp bit back a smile, his good humor fading fast as he realized the child was in the path of a tornado. “I’ll take you to Big Heart Ranch.”

“And who are you?” the woman asked, her gaze assessing.

“Tripp Walker. I’m the equine manager at Big Heart,” he said, annoyance mounting. “Ma’am, we need to hurry.”

The driver’s-side door opened and a petite dark-haired woman stepped out. She opened the back seat passenger door. “I’m Hannah Vincent. This is my daughter, Clementine.” The child sat in a booster seat and stared up at him while clutching a pink stuffed horse. She was dressed in clean pink jeans and a pink patterned long-sleeved shirt. Clearly, the kid had a penchant for that color.

“Come on, baby, we’re going to the ranch.” Hannah unbuckled the straps and pulled her daughter into her arms.

“Horses?” the little girl asked.

“Shh,” Hannah said. “We can discuss that later.”

Tripp glanced at Hannah’s left hand. No ring. Though his head tried to stop him, his gut moved quickly to judgment. Plain irresponsible. Who ran out of gas in the middle of a tornado?

Irritation continued to brew as he ran a hand over the scar on his face and worked to control the emotions he’d so carefully learned to stuff years ago. He’d spent a lifetime paying for the sins of an irresponsible single mother. Now the memories all came rushing back.

Hannah faced him with Clementine in her arms. “Is everything okay?” she asked.

“Just dandy.” Tripp turned and headed to the truck. He held the passenger door open. Hannah lifted Clementine into the cab and then put her foot on the truck’s running board. When she reached for something to hang on to, he took her arm and guided her into the truck.

“Thank you,” Hannah said.

He offered a curt nod.

She pulled Clementine onto her lap and inched nearer to her side of the vehicle as he went around to the driver’s side.

Once he got in, Tripp gripped the steering wheel and turned his head a fraction to meet Hannah’s dark eyes.

With that tumble of wavy chocolate-brown hair that touched her shoulders, and a face devoid of makeup, she seemed harmless. But he knew only too well how deceiving looks could be. As if sensing his annoyance, Hannah moved even closer to the door.

They headed down the ranch drive toward a split-log archway with the words Big Heart Ranch burned into a hanging sign. He stopped the truck in front of a drop-arm barrier that kept unauthorized visitors out and put his key card in the reader slot.

“Is this the ranch?” Clementine asked as the arm lifted.

“It is,” he said.

The child’s orange corkscrew curls bounced when she turned to look out each of the pickup’s windows. “Where are the horses?”

“They’re in the barn because of the storm. You’ll get to see them before you leave.”

“Oh, thank you, Mr. Cowboy.” She rewarded him with a huge grin. The kid had a smile that could warm even the most frozen hearts.

When his cell phone rang, Tripp pressed a button on the dashboard. “Walker.”

“Looks like the funnel cloud jumped past us. Storm moving in. A big one,” the mature female voice on the speakerphone said.

“Thanks, Rue. I’m bringing guests to the admin building.”

“Guests?”

“A Hannah Vincent. She ran out of gas on her way to see the Maxwells.”

The sound of papers shuffling could be heard. “The receptionist is out until Monday, but I’m looking at the appointment list she left and I don’t see a Hannah Vincent. Is she here to see all of them?”

Tripp turned to Hannah, and she nodded.

“That’s right, Rue.”

“Well, no worries. I’ll find them and we can sort it out.” She chuckled. “Just get out of that weather.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Once again, Tripp looked at his passenger. “You have an appointment at Big Heart Ranch, right?”

“Not exactly,” Hannah said.

“Not exactly?” Tripp exhaled and held back a biting retort. Though the tension in the cab was palpable, he focused on driving, staring straight ahead out the window where fat drops of rain began to splash on the glass as he approached the administration building.

His job was to manage the horses. It would be good to remember that. Hannah Vincent was Lucy Maxwell’s problem now.

Tripp pulled the truck into a parking lot and led them out of the rain and into the brick building. “This way.” He opened the door to a small conference room where Rue Butterfield sat with a cup of coffee watching the news. The gray-haired physician and retired army general turned to offer their guests a welcoming smile. “Welcome to Big Heart Ranch.”

“I hope I’m not...” Hannah began. She pushed back rain-dampened hair from her face.

“You’re not.” Rue stood. “Big Heart Ranch aims to be a refuge in the storm. Literally.” She chuckled and held out a hand in greeting. “I’m Dr. Rue Butterfield.”

“Hannah Vincent. This is Clementine.”

“Clementine!” Rue grinned. “Now isn’t that a unique name?”

“It’s ’cause of my hair,” the little girl said. “It’s orange.”

Tripp bit back a smile when Clementine shook her head back and forth, causing the bright curls to move with the motion.

“Your hair is quite lovely and I am certainly pleased to meet you, Miss Clementine.” Rue offered a hand in greeting. “I’m Miss Rue.”

“Rue. That’s a nice name, too.” Clementine shook Rue’s hand and smiled, obviously delighted by the grown-up gesture. “Mr. Cowboy is going to show me horses.”

Rue lifted her gaze to Tripp. “Oh, are you, Mr. Cowboy?”

He knelt down next to the little girl. “You can call me Mr. Tripp.”

“Mr. Tripp.” She scrunched up her face and looked hard at him. “You are a cowboy, right?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Do cowboys keep their promises?” Clementine asked.

“Always.” He stood and turned his attention to the television screen on the wall. “What’s going on with the storm?” he asked Rue.

“Funnel touched down on Route 66. No damage reported. Looks like we’re safe. For now, only thunderstorms.”

“I like rain,” Clementine said.

“So do I.” Rue smiled at the little girl and then turned to Hannah. “You’re here to see the Maxwells?”

“Yes.”

“Did they know you were coming?”

“Um, no.” Hannah adjusted the purse on her shoulder and clasped her hands together. “This was sort of spontaneous. I drove straight from Denver.”

“That’s a long drive,” Rue returned.

“Yes. Thirteen hours.”

“We paid our respects,” Clementine interjected.

Rue’s eyes rounded, reflecting confusion and surprise at the comment. “How did you say you know the Maxwells?”

“I’m a relative.”

Rue blinked. “I wasn’t aware that they had any living relatives.”

“Neither was I... I mean, until recently,” Hannah stammered, her attention on Clementine.

“So how is it you’re related to the Maxwells, dear?”

Tripp kept his eyes on Hannah Vincent. She took a deep breath and looked up. Her gaze moved from Rue to him.

“If you don’t mind, I thought I’d discuss it with the Maxwells,” Hannah continued.

“Of course. I don’t mean to pry.”

Hannah offered a hesitant and awkward nod.

Rue glanced at Tripp and he returned her searching expression with a slight shake of his head. If she wanted answers, she was looking in the wrong direction. He didn’t have a clue and he didn’t want to know, either.

“How about a cup of coffee?” Rue asked Hannah. She picked up her own mug from the table and smiled. “Fresh pot.”

“May I please have a glass of water?” Hannah asked.

“Certainly. We’ve got chocolate muffins in the break room. Our Emma is quite the baker.” She cocked her head toward Clementine. “Would that be okay for...?”

“Yes. Thank you very much,” Hannah returned.

“Come help me, Tripp,” Rue said.

He narrowed his eyes at the good doctor, but she ignored him and started down the hall. When they entered the kitchenette, Tripp released a breath. “I smell a scam.”

“Oh, don’t be so cynical.” She paused. “Colorado is where their parents died, and where the kids went into foster care.”

“Okay, so why didn’t she call and schedule an appointment? Why surprise them on a Friday afternoon?” he asked.

“I have no idea.”

“I’ve known the Maxwells for eight years. I was their first employee. If they had family, I would have heard about it by now.” Tripp began to pace back and forth across the tiled floor as he continued to mull the situation.

Rue shrugged and reached for two glasses from the cupboard. “They’ll be here shortly, and I guess we’ll find out.”

Find out? He didn’t want to find out. This entire situation made him uneasy. Tripp pulled off his cowboy hat and ran a hand through his short hair. All he wanted to do was go back to the stables and be left alone.

He froze at the sound of the big glass door of the admin building opening and then closing with a whoosh and a dull thud. Boots echoed on the tile floor, along with soft murmuring. The Maxwells had arrived.

It was like the still before a tornado, and after thirty-four years in Oklahoma, he knew better than to stand in the path of a storm minutes before everything was getting ready to break loose.

* * *

Hannah swallowed hard as she faced the Maxwell siblings seated across the conference table from her.

Lucy, Travis and Emma in person. All dark-haired with dark eyes and generous mouths accustomed to smiling. And they were smiling now, which was a good sign. The Maxwells were accompanied by their spouses.

Jack Harris, Lucy’s husband, was an attorney. Emma Maxwell Norman’s husband, Zach, a former navy SEAL, sat next to his wife. The man looked like he could break her in two with his pinky.

Travis sat holding hands with his wife, AJ, a pretty blonde in a denim jacket who’d entered the room with a straw cowboy hat on her head. She was clearly very pregnant.

Though Rue was entertaining Clementine in another room, they’d asked Tripp Walker to stay. The man was just like family, Lucy Maxwell Harris, the oldest, had said. Pretty scary family, in her opinion. He wasn’t smiling and hadn’t since she’d met him, except when he was speaking to Clementine.

The man baffled her. He’d been nothing but a gentleman when he had rescued them. And when she’d struggled to climb into the cab of his truck, the cowboy had held her arm and easily helped her. His touch was surprisingly gentle for such a big and disapproving man.

Right now, the cowboy’s cool blue eyes were nearly ice as they pinned her. Hannah tugged her sweater close against the chill in the room and looked away.

A tiny niggle of excitement churned inside of her. Excitement even Tripp Walker’s less than warm welcome couldn’t dispel.

She’d started over many times in the last seven years, but this was different. For once, she wasn’t hiding or running away from something. No, for the first time in her life she was slipping from the shadows into the light and searching for her future.

And maybe she had found it.

This could very well be her family sitting around the table. Except they all sat on one side while she sat on the other.

She silently prayed for help and grasped for a scripture to cling to. Her grandmother may have been misguided in many ways, but when Hannah was growing up she’d made certain they both were in the pew every Sunday.

Casting all your care upon Him; for He careth for you.

Yes. That would work.

Lucy cleared her throat and smiled. “I have to admit we’re all shocked to find out we have a relative. Travis, Emma and I went into foster care after our parents died because we were told we had no family.” She pushed her short dark cap of hair back and folded her hands on the table.

“Are you related to our mom’s cousin? She’s the one who adopted us,” Emma, the youngest Maxwell, asked.

“I believe I’m related to your father. Jake Maxwell.”

Travis grinned and leaned forward in his chair. “You’re related to Dad? Really? How?”

Hannah hesitated, then met his gaze. “I think Jake Maxwell was my father.”

Travis’s grin faded away at the same instant that Lucy’s jaw sagged. She turned to Emma, whose eyes were round with shock.

The silence in the room was even louder than Hannah expected. She let her gaze slide to Tripp. Stormy blue eyes met hers before he looked away.

Hannah held her hands tightly in her lap and willed her heart to slow down. She tried to relax her clenched jaw. In the last ten minutes, she’d destroyed years of orthodontic alignment.

“Do you have proof? A birth certificate maybe?” Lucy asked.

“My birth certificate says my mother is Anne Bryant and the name of my father is noted as declined.”

The siblings looked at each other. Hannah could practically read their minds. They were doing the math. But she had already done that in Colorado and knew only too well that she was a year younger than Emma.

“I’m confused,” Lucy said.

“Believe me, I am, as well,” Hannah said. “I was born twenty-nine years ago last month. My mother died when I was too young to ask who declined was, and my grandmother wouldn’t discuss my father.” Hannah took a deep breath. “Clementine and I were in Denver for my grandmother’s funeral. Until the reading of the will, I thought she was my only living relative.”

“We’re so sorry for your loss,” Lucy said gently. “We know what it’s like to lose everything. But what led you to think...” She gestured with a hand.

“I inherited a chest of my mother’s things after she passed.” Hannah paused for a calming breath. Again, she reminded herself that she hadn’t done anything wrong. “There was a Bible with photos of my mother and Jake Maxwell tucked inside.”

“Surely there’s more than one Jake Maxwell in all the world,” Lucy said.

“I compared the photos to the Denver Public Library microfiche files with your father’s obituary photo. That’s also what led me to Big Heart Ranch.”

Lucy grimaced and nodded.

“Could we see the photos you have?” Travis asked.

“Yes. Of course. They’re in the trunk of my car.”

The eldest Maxwell’s gaze moved out the window to the pasture of tall grass in the distance. Then she slowly turned back to face Hannah. “I want to be sensitive to you, but this still doesn’t prove that he’s your father.”

Hannah stared down at her tightly clasped hands for moments, recalling the letters she’d read over and over again.

Dearest Anne, you are on my mind constantly...

She raised her head to face the Maxwells. “There are also dated letters from Jake to Anne that indicate a very close relationship.”

Lucy’s face paled as she released a soft, anguished sigh and covered her mouth with a hand.

“I’m sorry,” Hannah murmured.

“There’s nothing for you to be sorry about,” Travis said. “This has to be as difficult for you as it is for all of us.”

“We could do a DNA test. Couldn’t we?” Emma asked while looking at Jack Harris for a response.

The attorney reached out to hold Lucy’s hand. “Sure, but as I recall, without paternal or maternal DNA, the results won’t be absolutely conclusive, though they will show if you’re family.”

“I think we should talk to a lab and find out how to proceed,” Emma returned.

“This is a lot to take in, Em,” Lucy said. “That Dad had a relationship outside of his marriage.”

“Four years before they died,” Travis murmured.

Emma turned to her siblings. “We can’t begin to presume to interpret the past. I don’t think we should even try. I say we deal with facts. Hannah is here and for her peace of mind and ours we should find out if we are indeed family.” She offered Hannah a sad smile.

Travis, too, offered a sympathetic nod. “All of our lives are affected if it’s true.”

Lucy met Hannah’s gaze. “I have to be clear. The ranch is a charity. The land was given to us by our mother’s cousin. The woman who adopted us. Big Heart Ranch is a sanctuary for orphaned, abused and neglected children. This ranch is our life mission, but we have no inheritance. Nothing.”

Hannah’s gut clenched at the words. Inheritance? If only they knew she’d already walked away from one. What she longed for was to find her place in this world.

“I’m here for the same answers you want,” Hannah murmured. “Period.”

Once again, an uncomfortable silence filled the room.

“Where are you staying?” Lucy asked.

“I saw a motel on the way in.”

“The Rooster Motel?” A horrified look crossed Lucy’s face. “Oh, you don’t want to stay there. We have a nice bed-and-breakfast in Timber.”

“That’s not really in our budget, but thank you,” Hannah said without looking at any of them.

“Well then, I’d like to invite you to stay at Big Heart Ranch, at the very least until we can figure all of this out,” Lucy said while she looked to her siblings for confirmation.

Hannah held her head high. “I don’t do charity.”

“Of course not. We can always use help on the ranch,” Emma said.

“What about Clementine?” Hannah asked.

“There is a licensed daycare at the ranch now,” Lucy said. “How old is she?”

“Clementine is five. Almost six.”

“It’s May. Isn’t she enrolled in school?” Emma asked.

“We’ve moved around a lot,” Hannah said. There was no point sharing further details. Her past had nothing to do with the Maxwells other than when it intersected with theirs.

Emma frowned. “I handle childcare at the ranch and I can tell you that kindergarten is mandatory in Oklahoma.”

“It’s not in Texas, Kansas and Missouri.”

“You certainly have traveled,” Emma murmured.

Traveled. Hannah nearly laughed out loud. Not quite. She had been running from her grandmother’s reach for nearly seven years. Staying one step ahead of the wealthy woman who insinuated that she could take Clementine away from Hannah if she so desired.

“I’m sure we have some area you could contribute to on Big Heart Ranch.”

“What’s your background?” Lucy asked.

“Recently, I’ve been a bookkeeper, cashier and mostly a cook.”

“All useful skills.” Travis shook his head. “Can you ride?”

“Yes, absolutely. I have an extensive background with horses. I’ve been riding since I was a kid. I worked in children’s camps and equine clinics when I was a teenager and in college.” Hannah paused and swallowed. “However, there’s something you should know.”

“What’s that?” he asked.

“I’m pregnant.” Hannah sat straight and proudly. Yes, she was a single mother whose husband had left her not once, but twice. But she refused to give in to the whispers of shame fueled by her grandmother that had dogged her for the past seven years.

“Congratulations,” Travis said. He grinned like a preening peacock as he put his arm around his wife. “AJ and I have a baby due in August.” He glanced over at Emma. “And Emma and Zach are expecting a baby in December.”

“That’s wonderful,” Hannah said.

Emma chimed in, “When is your baby due?”

“Late December.”

“Congratulations,” Emma added, her face lighting up with genuine pleasure. “Oh, my, we’re due at the same time.”

“I’ll add my congratulations, too,” Lucy said. “As you can see, we love babies around here. Your...um, partner is with you in Oklahoma?”

“I’m recently divorced.” She cleared her throat and once again focused on her hands, running her thumb over a ragged hangnail. Recently divorced because once he’d found out she wasn’t going to be a wealthy woman, he’d walked away.

An awkward silence stretched before Lucy cleared her throat.

“You do understand what we do here at the ranch, right?” Lucy asked.

“Not exactly,” Hannah admitted.

“We create a new normal for the children who come to live with us at Big Heart Ranch. We have two ranches here, the boys’ ranch and the girls’ ranch. The children are placed in a real house with house parents, not a dormitory. Though they aren’t a biological family, they are a family of the heart. A forever family. Our children have daily devotionals, lessons, homework and chores, just like any other child.”

Lucy looked to Travis. “We have been promising Tripp an admin to do the paperwork, scheduling and ordering supplies for about two years now, haven’t we?”

Travis nodded with enthusiasm. He turned to Tripp, but the equine manager’s face remained stony. The blue eyes flickered and his jaw twitched, though he didn’t utter a word.

“We’d still have to run a background and fingerprint check,” Emma chimed in. “It’s ranch policy.”

“Would you consider staying?” Lucy asked.

“I don’t know...” Hannah murmured with a glance at Tripp Walker.

“Tripp?” Emma nudged the silent cowboy.

“If the Maxwells welcome you, then so do I.” The words were a slow drawl, his gaze cautious, revealing nothing to indicate he’d changed his opinion about her.

Hannah was silent. So what if the horse manager didn’t like her? This wasn’t about her. She wouldn’t knee-jerk and make a decision based on pride. Clementine and her unborn child deserved to be around family, if that’s what the Maxwells really were.

“Thank you. I’ll stay...for now.”

She glanced around the table for a moment. Did she dare to hope that Big Heart Ranch might be the end of the road? A place where she and her children would be welcomed unconditionally? Or would she always be searching for home?

It’s in Your hands now, Lord, she silently prayed.

Chapter Two

Disoriented, Hannah sat up in bed. Something was off. Normally, she woke to the spring scents of hyacinths, daffodils and lilac that floated into her furnished apartment from the florist shop downstairs.

Her searching gaze landed on Clementine, who slept soundlessly in the next bed, cuddled into a softly faded multicolored quilt with her pink stuffed horse clutched to her chest.

Hannah blinked against the dappled sunlight sneaking into the room through the blinds and realized she was in a guest bunkhouse at Big Heart Ranch. Today was Saturday. She yawned as Friday’s events came back to her.

“This is it,” Rue Butterfield had announced when they arrived at the bunkhouse yesterday afternoon.

Hannah had enough money for one night at the Rooster before they’d have to head back to Missouri. Staying at Big Heart Ranch was an answer to prayer.

“This is where we’re staying?” Hannah had asked Rue. The bunkhouse was a rustic log cabin cottage with six bunks, a small living room and a kitchen area. It was several paychecks nicer than her place above the floral shop in Dripping Falls. Yet, her grandmother would have been appalled.

“Yes,” Rue had answered. “This is the guest bunkhouse.”

Hannah had glanced across the room at a neatly made-up bed. “Who else lives here?”

“That would be me. I stay when I’m needed and, with summer coming up, that will be most of the time.” She paused. “Oh, and Dutch will bring up your car and your bags. He put gas in your Honda.”

“Dutch?”

“Dutch Stevens. Senior wrangler. Can’t miss him. He’s bowlegged and has a silver handlebar mustache.”

“Please tell him thank you. And thank you. For all this.” She had waved a hand around the room.

“You’re family, dear.” Rue smiled.

At that moment, something like shame had clawed at Hannah. Family. As far as she could tell, she might be the illegitimate daughter of Jake Maxwell. Family or not, she’d certainly put a pause and a huge question mark into everyone at Big Heart Ranch’s thoughts yesterday.

Hannah glanced at the clock. It read 7:00 a.m. She wiped the sleep from her eyes and looked over at the two battered suitcases that the wrangler had brought to the cabin yesterday. Nearly everything she owned had been shoved into those bags or into a cardboard box in the trunk of her car when she’d left Missouri for her grandmother’s funeral in Colorado.

She stared at the ceiling and considered the wisdom of leaving her job as a short-order cook at the all-night diner. The pay was regular and Clementine slept in the manager’s office during her shift, saving Hannah a fortune in childcare expenses.

It wasn’t the career she’d planned on, but there was no point in looking back. She’d learned long ago that the only thing certain in life was that she had to live with her choices. Big Heart Ranch it was. For now.

Just as Hannah swung her legs over the side of the bed, the strong waft of bacon, eggs and fried potatoes hit her full force. With one hand on her stomach and the other covering her mouth, she quietly headed to the restroom.

Morning sickness. She splashed cold water on her face and stood over the sink taking slow breaths, willing her stomach to calm down.

“What am I doing here, Lord? I hope this was Your nudge and not another mess up for You to get me out of.”

Patting her face dry with a towel, Hannah brushed her teeth before coming out to the main area again.

“Morning, Momma.” Clementine sat on the edge of her bunk, biting her lower lip as she concentrated on buttoning up her blouse.

“Well, look at you. No nagging you to get out of bed today.”

Clementine raised her head and smiled, brown eyes sparkling. “Miss Rue said to get ready. Mr. Tripp is coming by to take me to see the horses after breakfast.”

Hannah eased down next to her daughter on the bed and pulled a hairbrush from her purse. “Let me fix your hair.”

“I have a twisty.” Clementine held up a nylon hair tie.

“Good, because the snarls have taken over. I’ll brush it thoroughly tonight,” Hannah said as she pulled the springy orange curls into a ponytail.

“Thank you, Momma.”

Rue popped her head around the corner. “Breakfast is ready. I made eggs, bacon and my special home fries.”

“Toast would be good.” Hannah swallowed, praying she wouldn’t retch. “But you don’t have to cook for us.”

“I was making breakfast anyhow.”

“Coffee?” Rue asked once Hannah had changed into jeans and a T-shirt and was seated at the table nibbling toast.

“Water is fine. I’ll get it.” She stood and moved to the sink. The coffee smelled wonderful, and she’d kill for a mugful, but that would wait until she could get decaf.

“What a good eater,” Rue said to Clementine as she sat down at the table and picked up her coffee.

“She’s filling her reserve tank,” Hannah said.

The five-year-old scooped up another forkful of eggs and shoveled it into her mouth like a starving trucker.

“Whoa, Clemmie. Slow down there, good buddy,” Hannah said.

“This is really good, Momma,” Clementine said.

“Please don’t talk with your mouth full.” She put the water on the table and slid into the chair next to her daughter.

“Yes, Momma,” Clementine said over a mouthful of eggs.

Hannah looked across the table at Rue Butterfield. The woman’s serene smile said that all was well with the world. It was as if Hannah and Clementine belonged in this kitchen, at this moment. There was a peace in the room that Hannah hadn’t experienced in a long time.

“This was very nice of you, Rue. I’m not accustomed to someone cooking for me.”

“Mind if I ask how far along you are, dear?”

Hannah froze. “How did you know?”

“The morning sickness, and you turned positively green when you laid eyes on the bacon.” Rue smiled. “I’d have never noticed otherwise.”

“I’m eight weeks.” Hannah placed a hand to her stomach. “I can barely zip up my jeans.”

“You’re slim as can be.”

A knock at the door interrupted the conversation and had all heads turning. “Come on in,” Rue called.

Tripp opened the door and removed his hat. The lean cowboy stood in the threshold surrounded by the morning sunlight. The man had to be at least six foot five. An inch or so more and he’d hit his head on that low doorway. He ducked as he entered the kitchen. The man had a thick head full of toffee-colored hair, trimmed short and neat.

When Tripp turned a bit more, Hannah noted that with his stubbled shadow and strong jawline, he was almost perfectly handsome. The scar running down his face only added to his rugged and dangerous appeal.

Appeal in general, she corrected herself. Not appealing to her. Nope. Things only became complicated when there was a man in her life.

She placed a protective hand on her abdomen when Tripp’s frosty blue eyes assessed Hannah with an expression she couldn’t define. It seemed the man was constantly sizing her up and each time she fell short.

“Coffee, Tripp?” Rue asked.

He held up a hand. “I’m good, thanks.”

“Horses. Horses. Horses,” Clementine chanted. She jumped up from her chair.

“Hold it right there,” Hannah said. “Clear your place setting and thank Miss Rue for breakfast.”

“Thank you, Miss Rue.” Clementine put her silverware on her plate, turned to the sink and stopped. “I can’t reach the sink.”

Before Hannah could even get out of her seat, Tripp had gently lifted the little girl to the stainless steel sink.

“Thank you.” Clementine giggled.

Tripp turned to Hannah as he lowered her daughter to the floor. “Ready to go?”

“Yes. Let me get our sweaters.”

“Does she have any other shoes besides sneakers?” Tripp asked.

“Oh, I didn’t even think... Clemmie, go put on your cowboy boots.”

Clementine nodded and raced from the room, happy to return wearing her scuffed Western boots. The pint-sized show-off did a little jig of a dance ending with a small, “Ta-da!”

“You’re a real cowgirl, aren’t you?” Tripp said with a wide grin.

Hannah nearly fell over at the smile that lifted the corners of the cranky cowboy’s mouth. It was a genuine smile that transformed the stone-etched face into swoon-worthy. For a fleeting moment, Hannah longed to make Tripp Walker smile again.

Then she remembered that believing in white knights who came with happy endings was how she’d gotten derailed in the first place.

Hannah followed Tripp and Clementine out the door. She couldn’t keep up with his long strides, but her daughter skipped and jumped across the yard to the stables, splashing in a few mud puddles on the way, with joy shining on her face.

Tripp stood at the entrance of the big building, allowing them to enter the stables first. Hannah stopped and met his gaze. “Thank you for keeping your word. That’s a novelty in my world.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” His eyes skimmed over her. “You said you’re comfortable around horses, right?”

“It’s been a long time, but yes.”

“How long is a long time?”

When she paused to think, a rope of melancholy tugged at her. There were very few things from her past that pulled at her heart. Her horse was one of those. But when she’d walked away from her grandmother, she’d walked away from everything her money could buy. “It’s been more than seven years. A beautiful mare named Sage.”

“What happened?”

“That’s a story for another day.” She stepped into the building, her boots echoing on the floor. The place was abuzz with activity. “Why are things so busy on a Saturday?”

He shrugged. “The usual. Lessons are scheduled Monday through Saturday. Most of the kids and staff sign up for recreational rides, as well.”

She offered a small nod.

“I manage the equestrian center located on each ranch. We house over twenty ranch horses, plus those owned by the staff.”

“That’s a lot of horses and a lot of work,” Hannah said. Her grandmother hired a team of grooms for her stables.

“The kids muck and groom as part of their daily chores.”

“I’m sure that’s helpful, but someone has to manage the entire program, including veterinarian visits, feed, supplies and the day-to-day issues.”

He stared at her, a flicker of surprise crossing his face.

“I worked for the manager at an equine clinic long ago,” she admitted. “Which may come in handy as your assistant.”

“So you said.” He paused. “That starts on Monday.” Tripp offered a dismissive nod, before he turned to her daughter. “Miss Clementine, would you like to ride today?”

“Oh, yes, please, Mr. Tripp. I’ve never been on a real horse.” She cocked her head and pursed her mouth for a moment. “Do you have any pink horses?”

“We don’t, but I have a nice horse named Grace who would like to be your friend.”

“Okay.”

Once again, Clementine’s short legs skipped to catch up to Tripp. Hannah’s jaw nearly dropped when her daughter put her little hand in Tripp’s and followed him. Clementine was friendly by nature, but this...this was unusual.

As she followed, Hannah spotted the tack room next to an office with glass windows all around. The sign on the door read Tripp Walker, Manager. They stopped at the last stall on the left where a chalkboard on the outside of the stall had Grace printed in white letters.

“Do you want to introduce yourself and Clementine to Grace while I grab some equipment?” Tripp asked.

“Oh, yes. Sure,” Hannah returned.

“Mommy,” Clementine whispered. “I’m really going to ride a horse?”

“You are.” Hannah knelt down next to her daughter. “It’s very important that you follow all of Mr. Walker’s instructions today.”

Clementine gave a solemn nod and then frowned. “His name is Mr. Tripp, Momma.”

“Mr. Tripp.” Hannah barely resisted rolling her eyes. “I’m going to lift you up so you can pet the horse’s nose. Talk to her and say hello. Be very gentle.”

Clementine reached toward Grace without hesitation. She stroked the animal’s chestnut nose, her fingers lingering on the white patch of her forehead. “Hi, Miss Grace. My name is Clementine,” she soothed, like an old pro.

The animal gave a nicker and nudged at Clementine’s hand.

Clementine’s eyes popped wide, and she giggled. “Momma, she likes me.”

“Why wouldn’t she?” Tripp asked from behind them. He held a saddle, a blanket and a currycomb. “Come on, we’ll get Grace ready to ride and I’ll take you both for a little walk.”

“Oh, I hate to take you away from your work,” Hannah said. “I can do that.”

He looked at her and seemed to be searching for a response. “Sometimes, I like to be taken away from my work.”

“We’ve already imposed,” Hannah protested.

Tripp cleared his throat. “Ma’am, there’s a liability issue here.”

“But I’m about to be an employee.” She paused. “At least temporarily.”

“Monday. After you fill out the paperwork and such on Monday, you’ll be official and all.”

Hannah swallowed and stepped back. “So I have to trust you with my daughter for now?”

“Yes, ma’am. You can watch from outside the corral.”

Could she trust Tripp Walker with that which was most precious to her? Clementine was the reason she’d been on the run for the past nearly seven years. Leaving Colorado, she knew that their running had come to an end and that eventually, she’d have to trust someone. Maybe Big Heart Ranch was the place to start. After all, this ranch was all about trust and second chances, wasn’t it?

She met Tripp Walker’s steady gaze and nodded. “Okay.”

Tripp lifted a grinning Clementine from the saddle and set her on the ground in the stables.

“How’d the ride go?” Rue asked as she entered the building.

“This little cowgirl is a natural,” he said.

“I expected as much.” Rue turned to Hannah. “I’ve got some friends to visit over at the chicken coop. Mrs. Carmody and the rest of the girls. I thought Clementine might like to join me. Would that be all right with you, Hannah?”

“I, um...” Hannah blinked, eyes wide, obviously caught off guard.

“Oh, yes. Please, Momma. It will be all right. I’ll be good.” Clementine’s brown eyes begged as loud as her entreaty.

Tripp narrowed his gaze. The single mother didn’t like to be separated from her baby. Had he misjudged her? Time would tell.

Hannah nodded and offered Rue a shaky smile. “Sure, okay.”

When Tripp led Grace to her stall, Hannah followed. She cleared her throat. “I’ll untack the horse. It’s the least I can do, and clearly, Grace is no threat.”

He glanced from Grace to Hannah and nodded his approval. “Let me know if you need anything.” Tripp turned and headed to his office. “I’ve got to make a few calls.”

Tripp settled into his desk chair and stared at his cell phone. He wrestled the merits of an idea brewing in the back of his mind and finally punched in the number.

A moment later, the sound of boots pounding through the stables could be heard. Dutch Stevens planted himself outside Tripp’s office and knocked on the open door with his fist. The old cowboy pushed his ancient straw cowboy hat to the back of his head and stroked his gray mustache. “I need some help outside.”

“Give me a minute.”

“A minute? I don’t have a minute. I’ve got a mean horse you bought who’s trying to bust out of the trailer. What I need is another hand.”

Though Tripp stood and kicked the office door closed with the toe of his boot, he could still hear Dutch griping through the glass as his cell connected.

“Hello?” the raspy voice on the phone said into Tripp’s ear.

“Slats, this is Walker over at Big Heart Ranch. I need a favor.”

“Guess I owe you a few, don’t I?” Slats Milburn returned.

“I need a discreet background check.”

“I’m always discreet.”

“Good to know.” He took a deep breath. “The name is Hannah Vincent.”

Tripp swiveled his chair in time to see Hannah and Dutch talking outside Grace’s stall. His trouble radar began to sound when Hannah tossed her sweater onto a wall peg and followed Dutch outside.

A moment later, a loud crash and bang of metal filled the stables, echoing over the noise of the riders and horses. Staff and children raced down the center aisle and poured into the sunlight to see what was going on.

“I gotta go. I’ll text you the details.” Tripp dropped the phone on his desk and wove past people crowded in the stable doorway.

Outside in the gravel parking area, Hannah Vincent lay on the ground with her posterior in a mud puddle while Dutch struggled to lead a rambunctious horse to the corral. Tripp stepped up to the horse, whose ears were snapped forward, his head up and the whites of his eyes bright as he whinnied in protest.

“What happened?” Tripp demanded.

Dutch grimaced. “Rowdy here kicked open the trailer same time I was opening the door. Horse exploded out of there. Door flew open and Miss Hannah went flying.”

Hannah blinked and sat up. She shoved her dark hair from her eyes and brushed red dirt from her hands. “Sorry, I wasn’t much help, Dutch.”

“Aw, not your fault.”

Tripp moved to Hannah’s side, belatedly remembering that the woman was pregnant. When he did, it was a punch to his gut. “What were you thinking?” The words came out sharper than he intended.

“I said I’m fine,” she answered.

Tripp and Dutch stood over Hannah, each offering a hand and helping her to her feet.

Dutch chuckled. “Never seen anyone go flying like that before.”

“Yeah. We’ll talk about that later,” Tripp growled. He moved near the excited horse and spoke in soothing tones before he moved closer and started scratching and petting around the withers. As the horse stilled, Tripp rubbed him between the eyes. “It’s going to be okay, buddy.”

Tripp handed the horse off to a wrangler and turned back to Hannah.

“Got a few scratches on your arm, Hannah,” Dutch said. The old cowboy grimaced, his eyes filled with concern. “That’s my fault. I’m sorry.”

She raised her arms and sure enough, gravel and dirt were embedded in scratches on the backside of her right forearm. Tripp cringed at the sight. She’d gotten hurt on his watch.

“I’m okay,” Hannah repeated firmly. She slapped at her backside and straightened her blouse.

“We’ll let Rue decide that,” Tripp said. “She’s the staff doctor. For now, we can clean it up and put on a little antiseptic ointment.” He gave a curt nod toward the stables.

“Your concern is overwhelming,” Hannah murmured drily as she followed him.

“Rinse your arm in the sink over there.” Tripp cocked his head to the right. “Then come into my office. I have a first aid kit.”

Minutes later, Hannah sat in Tripp’s office staring at the wall as she held her arm up.

“What’s that?” she asked.

He removed the cover from the antibiotic ointment and glanced up at the wall. She was staring at the poster for the 100-Day Mustang Challenge.

“Just what it says. One hundred days to gentle, halter break, saddle train, and build trust with a horse.”

“Do you get to keep the horse when you’re done?”

“Nope. End of the hundred days there’s big grand finale competition and the animals are auctioned off by the Bureau of Land Management.”

“So what’s the point?”

“It’s for a good cause. Re-homing mustangs, raising money to start the process all over again.”

“All good, but that’s it?” Hannah said.

“Braggin’ rights. To say you’ve done it.”

“And have you? Done it before?”

“No time.” He shrugged. “Been on my bucket list for a while.”

“What’s the prize money for something like that?” she asked.

“This year, fifty grand.”

Her eyes rounded. “That could buy a lot of buckets.”

“Lift your arm,” he said.

She complied, and he examined the abrasion. When he shifted his gaze sideways, he could see her long lashes resting on her flushed cheeks. Hannah’s full mouth was set in a tight line as he applied the ointment. Tripp worked to gentle his touch, reminding himself it didn’t matter how long her lashes were or how smooth her skin.

Except, the truth was, something about Hannah Vincent made him think about and feel things he hadn’t considered in a long time. He quickly gave himself a reality check. Hannah’s character was still under question. If the woman had secrets, Slats would find out exactly what they were.

Tripp’s gaze wandered to the sweet curve of Hannah’s neck. He glanced away, praying that Slats would be quick with his research.

And what if Hannah is as innocent as she appears? Tripp shot back at the errant thought, telling himself that the truth was, beautiful women didn’t look twice at scarred men. They went for the pretty guys like Travis.

He wrapped Hannah’s arm with gauze and taped the edges before stepping clear and putting plenty of space between them. “All done. Rue can check your arm when she and Clementine get back.”

Hannah raised her arm and assessed his work. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” he said with a quick glance. Before he was able to look away, she met his gaze.

“Why do you keep looking at me like I’m a particularly annoying bug on your windshield?” she asked quietly.

“Didn’t notice that I was.” He sat down in his chair and put the ointment in the first aid kit, feigning nonchalance at her challenge.

“I’m not planning to sue you for a little scratch on my arm, so you can relax.”

He was silent, knowing that she was spoiling for a fight.

“You’ve got something on your mind,” Hannah continued. “You have since I arrived.” She eyed him up and down. “You don’t look like someone who plays games, so maybe you should just spit it out.”

Tripp leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. He prided himself on being a man of few words, but the woman was a burr under his saddle and for the first time in a long time, he couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

“I keep asking myself what was so important that you had to risk yourself and your daughter in a storm yesterday and how a smart woman like yourself ran out of gas.”

“I bought the car in Denver. Turns out the gas gauge sticks at times. Usually at the wrong times. Like Friday.”

He gave a slow, considering nod.

“As for the other...do you have family?” She didn’t wait for a response but plowed right ahead. “I found out forty-eight hours ago that I might. That was enough to put me on I-70 at noon on a Thursday headed to Oklahoma. Believe it or not, and I imagine you will choose not to, I was unaware that I was in the path of a tornado.”

Tripp didn’t know what to say to the outburst. But it didn’t matter because Hannah Vincent wasn’t done yet.

“It’s clear you’re determined to think the worst of me, Mr. Walker. It’s a good thing I don’t answer to you.”

“You will,” he murmured. “Come Monday.”

When her face paled, remorse poked him in the chest. Now he’d gone and done it. Acted like a mule.

Why was this particular woman so good at pushing buttons he didn’t even know he still had available to push? He stood and cleared his throat. “Excuse me. I’ve got work to do.” Tripp felt her gaze staring him down as he left the office, but he had to get out of there before he shoved both of his boots in his mouth and discovered a perfect fit.