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Holiday Heir

Page 145

by Maggie Cole

Somewhere in the night, it stopped snowing, and the roads got plowed. Still, I'm not cocky enough to know that black ice can be on the road. So I drive slower than usual, knowing my precious daughter is with me. The drive takes over three hours, which gives me entirely too much time to think about what I'm doing.

Charlie sleeps for most of it. I check the mirror every so often. Her little head rests against the side of her car seat. She's oblivious to the fact her granddaddy might kill her daddy.

Lorraine was joking.

Pretty sure.

I tighten my grip on the steering wheel.

By the time the navigation tells me to turn onto a narrow county road, the snow has mostly disappeared. Open fields stretch out, broken up by fences and clusters of bare trees. When I hit their gravel drive, I slow down.

The Cooper place isn't huge, but it's a nice-sized working ranch. There's a white farmhouse set back from the road, a barn beyond it, several fenced pastures, and equipment shed off to the side. A few horses graze near the far fence. Everything's maintained, but nothing's new. The barn's seen some years. So has the tractor parked beside it.

I pull up beside an older Ford truck and kill the engine. For a second, I sit there.

What the hell am I nervous about?

I'm a grown-ass man.

I train horses that could kill me with one kick.

A tiny sound comes from the back seat. I turn around and a full-blown cry tears out of Charlie.

Oh shit.

I jump out of the truck and take her out of the seat. I pull her into me. "Shh. It's alright, peanut."

It takes a minute for her to calm down.

"There. Thanks for not crying anymore. You're my protection from your granddaddy."

Charlie kicks her legs.

"If things go south, look cute."

She makes another little noise.

"Good plan."

I take a deep breath and start toward the house. I'm halfway there when the barn door slides open.

A man steps out.

I freeze.

He's tall, broad through the shoulders, wearing faded jeans, a brown work coat, and boots that have probably seen more miles than my truck. Gray runs through his dark hair beneath a weathered cowboy hat.

I shift Charlie higher. "Mr. Cooper?"

His gaze drops to the pink bundle against my chest. "Is that my granddaughter?"

"Yes, sir."

He crosses the yard in long strides, his eyes locked on Charlie. "Let me see her."

I hand her to him.

His entire face softens. "There's my girl." His voice drops into some tone I wouldn't have thought the stern-looking son of a bitch in front of me was capable of making.