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your little girl.”
    A high-pitched squeal of laughter caught John’s attention and his smile grew.
    But when he turned, he frowned at what he saw. Heather was pulling a high-sided wagon. Adana sat inside, leaning over the edge, staring at the ground rolling past her as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.
    His eyes reluctantly touched on Heather, who was looking everywhere but at him. She had put a down vest over her shirt, a concession to the brisk spring weather.
    Though she still looked as if she was heading to a fashion shoot, the down-home clothes were a reminder of happier times. When they would go out riding. When he would watch her run barrels, timing her and coaching her.
    He shook his head, as if to dislodge the errant memories he wouldn’t allow himself to indulge in.
    â€œWhere’s Alice?” he asked. He set the pail down and halfheartedly walked toward them. They met halfway between the pens and the house, the tapping of Monty’s hammer echoing over the yard.
    â€œDaddy, ride,” Adana called out, reaching for him. He picked her up, settling her against his hip.
    â€œShe left this morning to visit her aunt,” Heather said. “She asked me to help out with Adana while she was gone.”
    John narrowed his eyes at the thought of Heather taking care of his daughter. “Just for today?”
    â€œIt’s fine. I...I can manage. I’m not familiar with kids, mind you...”
    â€œI sensed that,” he stated, holding Adana a little closer. She laid her head against him, as she often did when she was tired or upset. Did she also feel Heather’s discomfort?
    He felt the same overwhelming need to protect his daughter that he had felt when he’d brought her home from the hospital. He had made a promise to himself that he would protect her, take care of her and make up for all she had lost.
    â€œThat’s why I think I should take care of her,” he added.
    â€œBut you’re busy. I thought...I understood that’s why Alice and Mom look after her. So you can work?”
    â€œI’ll figure a way around it.” He glanced down the fence line toward Monty.
    Heather lifted her head, staring him down. “You don’t think I’m capable.”
    In spite of the confrontational tone of her voice, he caught a glimpse of hurt in her features. His resolve wavered a moment, but then he felt the warmth of Adana’s head against his neck.
    â€œIt’s not how capable you are. It’s how willing you are.” He sighed for a moment, then continued. “Like I said, I sensed that you’re not comfortable around her. I don’t want my daughter to feel like she’s unwanted.”
    Heather couldn’t hold his gaze. Her eyes, with those impossibly long lashes, lowered protectively. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I know how it looks. It’s just...she reminds me...” She stopped there, her hands twisting together.
    She seemed genuinely upset.
    â€œReminds you of...” he prodded.
    She bit her lip, shook her head, then slowly, almost reluctantly, looked up. He caught the faintest shimmer of tears in her eyes. “Doesn’t matter,” she said. “Adana is a sweet little girl and I don’t mind taking care of her.”
    But John couldn’t ignore the brief glimpse of sorrow in her eyes and in her voice. Older emotions sifted into the moment and he thought of her upbringing. “Is this because of your mother?”
    She frowned and he realized he’d barked up the wrong tree.
    â€œNo. Nothing to do with her.” She waved off his comment with one hand. But that didn’t erase his curiosity. There was more to this than she was letting on.
    â€œI can take care of her,” Heather said, reaching out for his daughter. “I know you and Dad have a lot of work to do before calving.”
    Still John hesitated, glancing from