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A Home for Nobody's Princess. Leanne BanksЧитать онлайн книгу.

A Home for Nobody's Princess - Leanne Banks


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made an unhappy sound. “And if I can get my daughter to stop crying every time she sees me, I’ll be in good shape.”

      “You can start by taking off that hat,” she said.

      “I don’t know if that makes a difference,” he said.

      “Give it a try,” she said.

      Sighing, he removed his hat.

      Emma stared at him in silence.

      “I can’t believe it’s the damn hat,” he said.

      The baby extended her hand out to his face.

      “Lean closer,” Coco said.

      He slid her a doubtful glance, but bowed his head toward the baby. Emma gave a disapproving growl. Yet, the baby extended her hand to Benjamin’s chin.

      “Ah!” Emma said.

      “Improvement,” Coco said, unable to withhold a trace of victory in her voice.

      Enduring the baby’s probing strokes across his mouth and chin, he grimaced. “That’s a matter of opinion.”

      “She’s not screaming,” Coco said.

      “True,” he said, gumming at Emma’s tiny finger.

      The baby’s eyes widened and she pulled back her hand.

      “Don’t scare her,” Coco scolded.

      “How ya’ doin’, darlin’?” he asked Emma.

      Her rapt gaze held his and she waved her hand at his face. “Ah!”

      “Ah!” he echoed and caught her hand within his. “You’re my girl. Don’t ever forget that,” he said and kissed her hand. “Ever,” he said.

      Emma kicked her feet and stared into his eyes, but for the first time in forever, she didn’t scream. Maybe Coco was right. Maybe the hat had frightened her. More important, maybe Coco was right and he needed to chill and just love his child. That assignment could be a bit more difficult than he planned.

      Over the next few days, Coco tried to ignore the new information she’d received about her birth family. Her birth parents had never wanted her. Her half brothers and sisters weren’t truly interested in her. If so, wouldn’t one of them have come to meet her? And what about her full brother? He apparently couldn’t give a flying fig about her existence.

      The knowledge stung, but after her father had died, a part of Coco had always been fearful. One day, her mother would die. She knew that one day she would be all alone in the world. For a while she’d believed that was a long way off, but then her mother had gotten cancer and everything had gone downhill.

      Staying with her mom during her last days had been the most important, yet the hardest thing she’d ever done. Coco had hoped it would give her peace, but since her mother had passed, she’d felt restless. She’d wake up in the middle of the night in a panic.

      Taking the job with Benjamin and Emma had given her a strange sort of relief. Emma had immediately responded to her as if there were already a bond between the two of them. Even though Emma was jittery, there was a sense of calm to the daily routine. Although Emma screamed and cried, she also smiled and cuddled. Something about the baby soothed Coco’s sadness. She wanted to help heal Emma’s fear. In the short time she’d spent at the Garner ranch, she’d grown extremely protective of Emma and was determined to bring peace between the baby and her daddy.

      At this point in her life, nothing else was more important.

      Each hour, however, she felt herself grow a little more curious about the royal family. In her few spare moments, she checked out the Devereau family and Chantaine online. Most of the siblings looked snooty to her—except for the one with curly hair named Phillipa. Coco was surprised to discover that one of the princesses—Valentina—actually lived in Texas with her husband and daughter.

      Her half sister was in the same state. She could actually drive to meet her, she thought. That said, Princess Valentina might have no interest in meeting her. In spite of the fact that she insisted she had no expectations of her new semisiblings, Coco felt restless day and night. When she went to bed, her mind whirled with possibilities. In the deepest, darkest part of her, Coco wanted family—sisters, a mother, a father, cousins, aunts, uncles. Her adoptive mother and father were dead. Her birth mother and father were dead. She’d thought she was all alone. Was she? Was she crazy to think she wasn’t alone?

      The next day, Coco strapped Emma to her chest and took a fishing pole and tackle box out to one of the streams on the Garner ranch. In Texas, people took their infants out to do things that celebrated everything great about the state. That meant the general population wouldn’t be surprised to see an infant at a professional ball game, fishing or even horseback riding, with their mama or daddy, of course. Thinking back to all the fishing trips she’d taken with her daddy before she’d turned ten, she cast her line into the stream, sat on the shore and waited. And waited. And waited. Then she got a bite and reeled in a medium-sized trout. She threw him back and cast her line again.

      Early on, she’d learned that waiting was a big part of the game. Her father had made that easier with stories he’d told her—stories he’d clearly conjured. She reconstructed one of those stories and repeated it to Emma, who promptly fell asleep.

      Hey, it was a cool story even if it made Emma snooze. Coco caught another three fish that she tossed back into the stream. One of Benjamin’s workers stopped by to chat with her for a few minutes, and by late afternoon, she felt great. All her worries had disappeared. She gave Emma a bottle. The sun was shining on her head, she was sweating just a little bit and she began tramping back to the house.

      Back at the house, Benjamin paced his office. Coco and Emma were gone. Coco had told Sarah she was going fishing, but Benjamin hadn’t gotten around to showing her the real fishing spots on the ranch. So how the hell had she gone fishing?

      He thought about Tweedledee and Tweedledum, the two guys representing the Devereau clan who’d visited Coco. He wondered if, despite their dweebiness, they had darker motives. What if they had gone after Coco and his daughter?

      Benjamin headed for the front door, intent on tracking down Coco and Emma when he saw Coco stomping up the steps with a fishing pole, a tackle kit and a beaming smile.

      Her smile was contagious. “You look happy.”

      “I am,” she said. “I caught four fish and threw them back in the stream.”

      “You could be lying,” he couldn’t resist teasing. “What proof do you have?”

      Her eyes darkened. “Your daughter is a witness.”

      Benjamin looked at his sleeping daughter and laughed. “She’s a bad witness.”

      “You don’t believe I caught those fish?” she asked, lifting her chin.

      “Why should I?”

      “Because I told you and because I’m an honorable woman. The only tales I tell are the kind that keep you occupied when you’re waiting to score a fish. My daddy told me a lot of those kinds of stories when we went fishing,” she said.

      He met her gaze and felt a strange sensation in his chest. She’d surprised him. He wouldn’t have expected her to be a fisherman even though he’d known she’d grown up in a small town.

      “And you’re trying to teach my daughter how to fish at five months?” he said, nodding toward the baby pack on Coco’s chest.

      “Do you mind?” she asked.

      “No. I don’t mind. It’s good for her to get outside.”

      “Do you want to take her?” she challenged.

      Whoa, he thought. “She’d scream bloody murder if I tried to take her fishing.”

      Her eyes softened just a little. “I’m not talking about fishing.


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