Cowboys & Broken Hearts - Baker Brothers of Copper Creek Book 4 (PAPERBACK)

Brock Baker used to have it all. A gorgeous wife, a positive attitude, and a fun life on the family ranch. Now he’s divorced, moody, and grieving the life he could have had.

Then one day his ex-wife’s sister knocks on the door. He tries to make her go away, but she’s a stubborn redhead, just like his ex. And the news she brings shakes up his world.

Piper Scott has always lived in her wild older sister’s shadow. Now Madison is dead, and Piper has to clean up the loose ends of her life. Namely, Brooklyn, Madison’s two-month-old secret baby. In her heart, Piper knows the baby should be with her father. But there’s one problem: the father doesn’t know the baby exists.

When Brock hears the news and meets his daughter, he’s in shock. He bribes Piper into staying and teaching him to be a good dad. Tensions are high, and neither will admit their growing attraction to each other.

Are the feelings he’s developing for Piper real? Or is it just because she’s so much like his ex-wife...

Piper vows to herself that handsome cowboy Brock is off-limits. But her heart keeps pulling her toward him. Does she have the courage to leave Brock and little Brooklyn behind?

Brock kicked off his worn boots by the front door and stomped his way through the house. No one would get mad at him for making all this noise because everyone was gone or outside. He’d just dropped off his mother at the Callahan’s ranch about twenty minutes ago. He’d have the house to himself for the next thirty if he were lucky.

Quiet. He could hear a pin drop if he really wanted to. The silence was almost deafening. Almost.

He’d begrudgingly gotten used to the quiet after Madison left. Perhaps he even preferred it. But then Jessica and Ruby had started dating Ian and Cal, and the sound of women’s voices had filled the house again.

Now, there was a little bit of calm that came with the crushing acceptance of being alone. He’d gotten to the point where he admitted it could be worse. Madison could have stayed and they would have spent their days fighting.

Brock made it to his bedroom and shut the door. He wandered past his bed and toward his desk. Pulling out the chair, he maneuvered it behind him and settled into the seat. His eyes landed on a framed photo that continued to haunt him. Exactly one year ago today, he’d married the love of his life. Madison’s bright green eyes and strawberry-blonde hair had been the first thing he’d noticed about her.

She was vivacious and carefree; there wasn’t anything she wouldn’t try at least once. The only thing she didn’t want to do was be tied down. He just wished he’d realized it sooner.

Standing beside Madison in the picture, Brock had his arms around her. He was staring at the bride rather than the camera. But on their wedding day, she was supposed to be the one who captivated everyone present.

He touched her face with his fingertip. It had been nearly a year since she’d left, and she’d managed to dodge every attempt he’d made to contact her. His brows lowered and his jaw tightened. Brock grabbed the picture frame and slammed it down on his desk. The glass cracked beneath the force.

Brock glowered at the hand-carved frame his father had given him. He’d lost count of how many times he’d replaced the glass in that frame. He should just throw the picture away. There was no reason to keep it. Madison wasn’t coming back.

His focus shifted to a garbage can that sat next to his desk. He should just do it. Get it over with. Leaning over, he grabbed the metal wastebasket and lifted it to the edge of the desk. His other hand rested on the upside-down frame. Fingers twitching, he hesitated. It was the only picture he had left of the two of them. About two months after she’d left, he’d purged his phone, computer, and life of anything that reminded him of her.

At some point he’d realized he’d been too rash and had saved this one photograph.

There was a knocking from somewhere in the house. The front door, maybe? Tate could handle it. Whoever it was wouldn’t be there for him.

Brock picked at the photograph and pulled it from beneath the frame. Shards of glass scratched against the surface of the desk. He stared at Madison’s smiling face again.

The knock sounded once more.

Letting out a muffled groan, Brock dropped the metal can, letting it bang against the side of the desk. He put the picture down and rose from his seat. Where in the world was Tate? Why couldn’t he be bothered to answer the door?

Forcing himself not to growl or stomp down the stairs, Brock took a few deep breaths. His mother would have his hide if he answered the door and commenced to yell at whoever the visitor was.

The person on the other side of the door knocked again as he rounded the corner into the hallway. “I’m coming! Hold your horses.”

Brock got to the door and yanked it open. “What do you—” He blinked. Familiar images flickered through his mind like pictures on a movie reel. It was like seeing a ghost. The green eyes, the red hair. The freckles across her nose were missing. But she had a small beauty mark right above her lip on the left side of her face.

She tilted her head to the side and her eyes narrowed. Shoot. She’d been talking. What was she saying?

“Brock? You probably don’t remember me. In fact, we didn’t really interact much. I wasn’t in your grade and I went to study abroad when you started dating Madison.” She shook her head, and her features tightened. “Sorry. That’s not why I’m here.” She smiled, but it looked more like a grimace. “Can I come inside?”

He couldn’t stop staring at the young woman. Her hair was pulled loosely away from her face, like she hadn’t had the time to do it properly. The fitted peacoat she wore showed off her figure. She was definitely Madison’s sister. He hadn’t interacted with his in-laws much—didn’t have many opportunities after she’d taken off.

Brock scratched his cheek. “What do you want?”

She swallowed and glanced over her shoulder. His eyes followed the motion to find his brother and Noelle wandering toward the workshop. Madison’s sister brought her gaze back to his. “It’s a little cold and…” She stepped aside, revealing a car seat at her feet. “I’d prefer to do this where you can sit down.”

His brows furrowed. Why did she think he needed to sit down? His jaw slackened, but the rest of his body straightened. “Is Madison okay? Have you heard from her?”

The redhead worried her lower lip and dropped her gaze to the floor. “That’s part of why I’m here.”

“Did she send you? Because if she sent you to do her dirty work, you can go right back and tell her she can come here herself.” Shaking his head, he held his arm out and rested it against the doorjamb. “I’m sorry. But I’m busy. You just tell Madison I’m open to having an adult conversation when she’s ready to come over.”

The woman let out a strangled gasp. “That’s why I’m here. Please, Brock. Just let me come in. Five minutes. That’s all I need.”

He rolled his eyes. If Madison was such a coward that she couldn’t come to face him herself, then she didn’t deserve to have him listen to whatever mission her sister was here to complete. “Just tell her—”

“She’s dead, Brock.”

His arm dropped to his side. The air whooshed out of his body and his legs buckled, forcing him to lean against the side of the doorway. His heart thundered and his stomach roiled. Breaths coming in sharp spurts, Brock closed his eyes and focused on the floor beneath his feet.

She touched him, drawing him back to the present. Brock opened his eyes and stared at her. Green eyes brimmed with tears, though none fell. “Let’s find you a place to sit down.” She moved him to the side, shut the door, then walked him toward the front room. Once she had him situated on the couch, she returned to the front door and picked up the car seat and diaper bag she’d deposited just inside.

Brock’s eyes followed her until she found a spot to put down the carrier and sit down herself. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, and peered at him like he was some kind of invalid.

Irritation bubbled up and he glared at her. “When did this happen? Why didn’t anyone tell me? I didn’t see anything in the paper. Was there a funeral?”

She swallowed hard. “That’s because she wasn’t in Colorado. She passed away in Washington.”

His brows lifted. “Washington?”

The woman nodded.

Brock pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. She’d been close enough he could have gone to her. Sure, it would have taken a day of driving, but it would have been worth the trip. “What was she doing in Washington?”

“We have an aunt up there—”

“But she had me. Here.”

She gave him a pained expression. “I think it got to a point where she didn’t think you’d forgive her if she came back.”

Fury flared to life inside him. Brock got to his feet, too upset to sit. “I don’t believe that for one second. I don’t know how many times I called her or sent her a message. She knew I wanted her back. I practically begged for her to come home. But she sent me those divorce papers and that was the end of it.”

Madison’s sister looked away. Her cheeks flushed. “I’m just telling you what she told me.”

Brock paced the floor between them. Selfish. He’d married a selfish woman who had no regard for the promises she’d made on their wedding day. He whirled around and faced her. “Why are you even here? To twist the knife? You realize that we got married on Valentine’s Day last year, right?”

She flinched and the redness in her cheeks deepened. “I’m sorry. It was just that the flights were cheaper today. Things have been—tight—lately.” Her focus flicked to the carrier.

Brock’s gaze followed the motion, then bounced back to her face. “How old is your baby?”

She chewed on her lower lip. “She’s two months.”

He settled into his seat. “You look pretty good for just having had a baby. From what I understand, during the first few months, you don’t get any sleep.”

She let out a stifled laugh. “You aren’t wrong. But she’s not mine.”

His brows lifted. “Then why are you taking care of it—her?”

The Madison look-alike sat up and wrung her hands. “Her mother passed away shortly after she was born.” Her steady eyes met his. “I’m her godmother, so I’ve been taking care of her.”

Brock let out a low whistle. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “What about the father?”

Her gaze didn’t leave his face. The ticks from the clock on the mantel seemed to slow. Tick. Tock. Tick. The air in his lungs grew thin. Something was wrong. In his gut, he could sense it. The hairs on his arms stiffened.

As if in slow motion, her lips opened and closed, forming the words he somehow knew she was going to say.

“Brock, you’re the father.”

Regular Print Paperback
Page Count: 260 pages
Font Size: 12
Dimensions: 5.5 x 8.5
ISBN: 978-1-964875-28-6
Ebook Publication Date: March 5, 2022
Publisher Name: Kenzo Publishing LLC