The Cowboy’s Second Chance Family: Wells Brothers, #3

By Leslie North

True love always finds its way home…

 

Avery Collins never forgot the pain of her broken heart when Tucker Wells, love of her life and father of her daughter, walked out on their relationship. Now, ten years later, she's shocked when he stumbles through her door in the middle of a snowstorm. And even stranger, he claims to have no memory of leaving her…

 

Avery's not buying his crazy amnesia story. But she has to admit, he's acting like a kinder, gentler, and sexier version of the boy she once loved. As Shanna's father, Tucker is definitely back in Avery's life. But can she ever let him back into her heart?

 

After years traveling the world as a photographer, Tucker is determined to do whatever he can to make up for lost time. His mind may be a bit muddled after a bad fall from his horse, but he knows two things for sure. He wants to get to know the daughter he never knew he had. And he's still in love with Avery.

 

If only he could remember what made him leave all those years ago, maybe he could find his way back to her now…

• Language: English
• Publisher: Relay Publishing
• Release date: Sep 28, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201156619

Book preview

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 armchair 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,