He was still thinking about the woman—Becca—when he carried his daughter inside and up to her room. Hank tucked her into the bed, brushed the curls off her brow, and kissed her forehead. When he held her favorite teddy bear up, she reached for it without opening her eyes and rolled over, going to sleep. That was his kid, all right. She slept heavy. He watched her for a little longer, reluctant to leave her side, because it felt like if he turned around and walked away, she’d be eighteen in the next moment and leaving him. He wasn’t ready for that.

Not at all.

Hank eventually left the room and headed downstairs. The Swinging C Ranch boasted a large house with additional cabins out along the path for the ranch hands. His brothers were staying in two of the cabins, but Hank was staying in the house because it had a tub instead of just a shower, and Libby needed baths. He headed into the kitchen for something to eat, and it wasn’t empty. Uncle Ennis was seated at the table, doing a crossword, a cup of coffee at hand despite the late hour.

Well, hell. Uncle Ennis was a chatty sort, and that meant Hank was going to get trapped into a conversation.

Just what he needed.

“Late night,” was all his uncle said as Hank moved into the kitchen and opened the freezer, looking for something to eat.

If he was in his cabin in Foxtail, he’d fire up the griddle and make himself a stack of pancakes because pancakes were easy on the supplies and he had to make them last. But he was tired and preoccupied, and the last thing he wanted to do was spend more time in the kitchen. So he grabbed a frozen dinner, shoved it in the microwave, and crossed his arms, glaring at the thing as it spun around, cooking his food far too slowly.

“Everything okay?” Ennis asked.

Hank grunted a response.

“Libby okay, too? I noticed she was out with you.”

He clenched his jaw. “She’s fine. Had gum in her hair.”

“You try peanut butter?”

Hank reached over and pulled out the empty peanut butter jar that was still sitting on the counter from where he’d left it earlier and showed his nosy uncle. He knew the man meant well, but, damn, he was acting like Hank didn’t know how to be a dad or something. “Took her to the hair lady.”

It was the wrong thing to say. Uncle Ennis lit up. “You saw Becca? She’s the nicest young lady, isn’t she?” He shook his head, leaning over his crossword. “Pretty little thing, too. Shame about the fiancé.”