for his brothers, but Hunter wasn’t interested in love. Not again. “Look, Dad, how many ways do you want me to say this? I don’t want to meet anyone. Stop trying to fix me up and call off Vivienne Dalton.”
“Matchmaking is not what this is about.” Max didn’t look the least bit guilty about paying the local wedding planner a million dollars to find wives for his six sons. “And think of your daughter. Think about Wren.”
“She’s all I think about.” She was his world and everything he did was to keep her happy and safe.
“Why would you deny her the opportunity to be with her family? To make memories. And if you were to have a little fun, too, well...” Max let the words hang in the air between them.
“And Finn asked you to be a groomsman along with the rest of us brothers,” Wilder reminded him. “Come on, Hunter. You can’t let him down. And as far as watching Wren? You’ve got Logan, Knox, Xander.”
“And me,” Max said.
“And me,” Wilder chimed in.
“Yeah,” Hunter said, deliberately surrounding the single word with sarcasm. “Because nothing could go wrong with that scenario.”
“That’s low,” Wilder said. “If you can’t trust your family, then who can you trust?”
“A nanny.”
Hunter looked at his brother, then both of them stared at Max, who had made the suggestion. “What?”
“Hire a nanny for the wedding.” Max shrugged.
“Wedding? What wedding?” No one had seen Wren standing there. But now the little girl was clearly excited. “Can I be in it? The bride and groom are going to need a flower girl.”
“Oh, sugar. I’m in deep trouble now,” Hunter muttered to himself.
“Hi, Gramps.” The blonde, blue-eyed star of his world walked farther into the room and looked way up at the tall men surrounding her. “Hi, Uncle Wilder. I was upstairs playing with my princess dolls. I didn’t know you were here.”
Max went down on one knee to be on her level. “Hi, Wrennie. We came to talk to your dad about going to Uncle Finn’s wedding. I’m going to use my private plane to fly us all there and we’re going to stay in a very fancy hotel.”
“Oh, boy!” Her big eyes grew bigger. “For real?”
“Yup. And I’m pretty sure Avery is going to ask you to be her flower girl. But your dad isn’t sure he wants to go.”
She turned her gaze on him. “But why?”
Hunter hated when she looked at him like this. He lost every argument because stubborn was no match for those big blue eyes. “It’s a town that’s bigger than Rust Creek Falls. In a hotel like that there are lots of tourists—”
“Who?”
“Strangers visiting from everywhere. It will be harder for me to keep an eye on you all the time.”
“But the flower girl gets to wear a pretty dress. Not as pretty as Avery’s because she’s the bride and that’s like the wedding princess, but...”
“I suppose.” Hunter was at a loss when she talked dresses.
“And maybe Avery doesn’t know anyone else to be a flower girl,” Wren said earnestly. “I have to be there.”
“That’s a good point.” Wilder bent at the waist and rested his hands on his knees, making his gaze almost level with hers. “And there’s something else you should know. Your dad is supposed to be Uncle Finn’s groomsman.”
“Would you have to get all dressed up, too?” the little girl asked.
“That’s right, Wren,” Max said. “Your daddy is going to need a tuxedo.”
This was why his dad and Wilder had followed him here to the house to finish this discussion. Despite their words to the contrary, they knew Wren was home from school. The two of them were counting on her to overhear. With her on their side, he didn’t stand a chance. But he’d give it one more shot.
“If I’m in the wedding, honey, it means I can’t watch over you the way I want.”
Wren nodded thoughtfully, then her face brightened. “I heard Gramps say something about getting someone to take care of me.”
“Yeah, but I don’t think we can find anyone on such short notice.” Hunter was beginning to hope there was a way for him to make this situation work in his favor after all.
“I know someone,” his daughter said.
Well, dang it. “Who?”
“Miss Merry. She works at my school. She helps in the classroom and she’s a playground supervisor at recess and lunch.” She smiled. “She’s really nice, especially on my first day of school when I was new. She played with me and got the other kids to play, too. She’s my first best friend in Rust Creek Falls.”
“She sounds perfect,” Max approved. “You’re not going to disappoint my granddaughter, are you, Hunter?”
“Please, Daddy.”
The eyes, the pleading voice. The guilt that she didn’t have a mother. Hunter was toast and he knew it. “I’ll talk to Miss Merry and see what she says. But if it doesn’t work out, that’s it. Will you be okay with that?”
“Yes!” Wren threw herself into his arms. “Thank you, Daddy. You’re the best daddy in the whole world.”
If only. He wanted to be her hero and keep her safe. So he would meet Miss Merry, who sounded like someone’s elderly grandmother. In which case this could work.
“You’re younger than I thought you’d be.”
And you’re even more handsome than you sounded on the phone. For a split second Merry Matthews was afraid she’d said that out loud. When the wariness in his green eyes didn’t change to fear of the crazy woman, she figured the thought stayed in her head where it belonged.
She’d heard rumors in town about his exceptional good looks, but she had been woefully unprepared to see Hunter Crawford in the flesh. Then his deep voice had her nerve endings sparking and momentarily shorted out a commonsense answer. Now he was staring at her as if her hair was on fire. It was time to say something.
“I’m Meredith Matthews but everyone calls me Merry.” She was standing on the front porch of his log cabin house on the Ambling A Ranch. The man practically filled the doorway and she was looking up at him. “And I’m not sure how to respond to that remark about my age, Mr. Crawford.”
“Sorry. It’s just that my daughter talked about you and I just expected—” He shook his head and looked sheepish and, actually, pretty adorable. A dashing cowboy dressed in a snap-front shirt, worn jeans and boots. There was probably a Stetson around somewhere but he wasn’t wearing it. His short hair was light brown and there was the slightest indentation in his chin. “I apologize. That was rude.”
“Not really. If you think about it, there’s no way to go wrong when you judge a woman’s age on the younger side.”
“I suppose that’s true enough. But now I’ve kept you standing outside in the cold. Please come in.” He opened the heavy door wider and stepped back to let her enter.
Merry glanced at the interior and liked what she saw. There were wood floors with colorful braided rugs strategically scattered over the surface. A comfortable blue couch and a leather recliner were arranged in front of a flat screen TV housed in an entertainment center. On the opposite wall a fireplace held freshly chopped wood just waiting for a match to light it. The place had a woodsy feel and was very cozy.
When