Page 67 of Promised to the Cowboy

And Evie—myEvie—is his daughter.

She’s crying. Great, heaving sobs that shake her so hard she can barely breathe, one hand clamped over her mouth like she’s trying to hold herself together by force.

She isn’t looking at me. She can’t. Because she’s already decided what’s coming next. She thinks I’m going to look at her the wayher father always did. Like she’s a problem. Something to be managed. Abandoned.

Fuck.

The realization cuts through everything else.

She’s not frightened of her father. She’s frightened of losing me.

“Evie.”

She flinches.

I reach for her face, cupping her cheeks between my hands. “Look at me, darlin’.”

She shakes her head. “I can’t.”

“You can.”

“Gabe—” Her voice breaks completely. “If you look at me”—she swallows hard—“you’ll see him.”

My heart damn near stops. “No.”

Another shake of her head. “I’m his daughter.”

“Yes.”

“I have his blood.”

“Yes.”

“I didn’t know what he was doing, but that doesn’t change who I am.”

“It changes exactly nothing.”

Finally, she lifts her eyes to mine. They’re red-rimmed and terrified. Waiting. I don’t think she’s breathing.

“Listen to me.” I brush my thumbs beneath her eyes, wiping away tears that refuse to stop falling. “You didn’t poison Kitty.”

She closes her eyes.

“You didn’t light that fire.”

Another tear slips free.

“You didn’t forge my signature.”

Her breathing catches.

“You didn’t murder Marlon Ennis.”

“But I’m still his daughter,” she repeats.

I rest my forehead against hers. “And you’re the woman I love.”

She goes perfectly still.