Redheaded Stranger: A Cowboy Love Story (Bluebonnet, Texas) by Amie Stuart

him. Go back to sleep." Alex wrapped one long, sinewy arm around him and held him against his chest, sitting up in one fluid motion that caused the baby to burp.
    Smiling, I closed my eyes and burrowed in the comfy bed, listening to the telltale sounds of him changing Darrach’s diaper and dressing them both before the room quieted with a click of the door.
    When I awoke for a second time, the sun was up, the room was silent, and for that matter, so was the house. I lurched out of bed, threw on a robe and rushed downstairs, flinging the front door open, my heart in my throat at the thought of Alex taking Darrach back to Dallas without me. At the sight of both our vehicles parked out front, I sagged against the doorjamb for a few shaky breaths. Weak-kneed, I padded back upstairs to check the time my phone. It was only just after eight. I hadn't slept in as long as I'd thought. Once my heart settled back in my chest, I dressed and went back downstairs to pour myself a cup of coffee and find my husband.
    "Sleep good?" Maggie asked as she came through the back door. She wore jeans and a thermal undershirt topped with a red flannel shirt a few sizes too big for her.
    "Yes, I did. Thank you." I poured a cup of coffee and turned to face her, forcing my tone to stay casual. "Do you know where Alex is?"
    One eyebrow quirked, a tiny smile on her lips, she nodded toward the back door. "Outside."
    I wondered at the funny, knowing look on her face as I headed for the door, sans coat. The day was cold enough to produce frosty breath as I stepped out onto the porch, arms wrapped around myself. The sight that greeted me made my jaw drop in shock. Maggie grabbed the coffee cup from my fingers before it crashed to the porch.
    In a small fenced-off area beside the barn, my husband and son were sitting atop a horse. A real horse. A large, spotted, gray animal, and they were going in circles. I hustled down the four steps and across the yard toward them, relief at the sight of them together, and more importantly, still here , mixed with a new kind of panic.
    "Have you lost your mind, Alex Boudreaux?" I struggled to keep my anxiety in check, afraid of startling said horse and hurting my son.
    The bottoms of Alex's normally pristine Nikes were now covered in mud. Both of them wore jeans and flannels under their coats, though Darrach’s shirt was way too big. Completely immune to my distress, Darrach scrunched up his nose, kicked his legs and hollered with happiness.
    "He won't get off."
    I spun around in surprise, still a little off-kilter from the sight of my husband and son on a horse. "Good morning?"
    "Morning, ma’am." The newcomer smiled and tipped his ball cap at me. "Tim Caldwell, at your service." The Boudreaux’s godson, and honorary fourth son, held out his hand, and I shook it slowly. "That’s my daughter, Rene, up there." He pointed to the top of the hay loft, where a willowy girl hung out far enough to make me grimace.
    "Aren’t you afraid she’ll fall?"
    "Naw," Tim replied. "She’s been doing that since she was old enough to climb."
    "I took pictures already." Maggie joined me, handing me back my coffee. The heat felt good on my cold, nervous fingers.
    My husband guided the large horse over near us. Despite the previous day’s upheaval, he looked surprisingly relaxed. Secretly, I felt this trip had been, and would be, just what he needed in more ways than one. But the key to all of it was mending the rift between him, his father, and Delaney—a problem I hadn't found a solution to yet.
    Just outside the small fenced area, Jerrod sat atop a large reddish-brown horse, a huge grin on his face.
    "I thought you were going to take him?"
    He shrugged, his expression almost too innocent as he said, "I was."
    Alex caught my eye, his expression unreadable. "I told him no."
    Didn't take a genius to figure out his father had somehow goaded him into taking Darrach for that first ride. I looked up into my husband’s quiet, solemn face,