The Rancher's Twin Troubles (The Buckhorn Ranch Book 2) Read online

  “What did your wife have to say about that?”

  “Actually, she enjoyed it. She was a cowgirl through and through. Loved working cattle with me. Hated being indoors.” Aside from their love of children, the two women couldn’t have been more different.

  “Oh.” She lowered her gaze to her plate.

  “Why would you care? It’s not like you and I would ever have a connection that would place you out on the range.”

  Paling, she excused herself before making a mad dash toward a hall bathroom.

  By the time she returned, some of her color was back, but not all. He’d cleared the table and managed to put most of the food away in the Rubbermaid tubs he’d found in a bottom drawer.

  “Thanks,” she said with an awkward wave toward the nearly clean kitchen.

  “Sure. No problem.”

  She took a Sprite from the fridge, rolling the cool can across her forehead before popping the top.

  “You’re scaring me,” he admitted, alarmed by the way she clung to the counter edge for support.

  Waving away his concern, she said, “I’m fine.”

  At least, Josie’s doctor had assured her that physically she and the baby were in tip-top condition. During the first trimester, nausea and exhaustion often came with the territory. But it hadn’t with Emma. Which made Josie’s predicament all the more confusing. On the one hand, she felt beyond blessed to have been given a second chance at motherhood. On the other, she felt terrified and guilty and shocked. Worse yet, Dallas was an incompetent father.

  At least he’d helped with the dishes.

  By the time the kitchen was clean, Josie was a nervous wreck. She’d invited Dallas to her home for a very specific reason. One she’d gotten nowhere near broaching.

  Mouth dry, she forced breaths, willing her pulse to slow.

  No such luck.

  Dallas handed her a plate, which, because it was still wet and she was still shaky with nerves, she promptly dropped.

  “I’ll get it,” Dallas said, already on his knees, plucking five clean-cut pieces from the floor and tossing them in the trash. From an undercabinet dispenser, he took a paper towel, dampening it before running it across the floor. “There you go. Safe for your bare feet and Kitty’s.”

  “Thanks. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m usually not so clumsy.”

  Back at the sink, washing the gravy pan, he asked, “You ever going to get around to why you’re talking to me again?”

  “Okay…” Sitting hard on the nearest chair, she sharply exhaled. “You’re here for a couple of reasons.”

  He turned off the faucet.

  Seated beside her, he took her hands in his. “Does this have to do with your husband?”

  She shook her head.

  “Then what? Out with it, already.”

  Standing, she summoned her every shred of courage to say, “Come on. There’s something I want to show you.”

  FOLLOWING JOSIE DOWN the dimly lit hall, the heavy meal Dallas just inhaled threatened to bolt. What the hell had she been hiding?

  She stopped before a closed door.

  Tears shone in her brown eyes.

  One hand to her chest, she used her other to turn a crystal doorknob. The night was moonless. The room black. She fumbled for the overhead light switch. With the room immersed in a soft, golden glow, Dallas lost all words. The scene was reminiscent of the twins’ room. Pretty and pink with piles of stuffed animals and a pintsize table set for young ladies and dolls. A canopy bed, dripping in lace, took center stage along with custom built shelves filled with books and toys and whimsically framed photos. The only thing missing from the enchanted space was the little girl it’d obviously been meant for.

  Josie backed into an overstuffed lounge chair, cradling her face in her hands. “Even after four years, the pain feels crushing—like a heart attack no medicine can heal. I wasn’t sure if you remembered hearing about the car crash before Hugh’s suicide.”

  Sighing, he perched beside her. “Vaguely, but again, I never connected it with you. Why, Josie, did you feel you needed to hide something like losing a child from me? I mean, I know lately, we haven’t exactly been close, but…” Her private pain was none of his business, so why did he feel betrayed? As if her having lost her daughter was a fact he should’ve known?

  “It wasn’t that simple.” Her expression morphed from grief to all-out rage. “Hugh—he hid an addiction from me. Playing flag football of all things, he tore his rotator cuff. After his surgery, he was supposed to have gotten better, but he was in constant pain. I—I didn’t know, but after his prescription pain meds expired, he started buying online. God only knows how many he was taking a day. The night it happened—the accident that took my Emma’s life—I had to stay late at school for parent/teacher conferences. I asked Hugh to pick her up from my parents’. On the way home, it started to sleet, and—”

  “That’s enough,” Dallas said, connecting the awful dots. “Bastard. Not that it excuses his actions, but I can see why your husband did what he did.” What he couldn’t understand was Josie keeping all of this from him. She always seemed as if she had everything together, when obviously, her world hadn’t been all sunshine and roses.

  Sniffling through tears, Josie nodded, then shook her head. “If I’d kept a closer eye on Hugh… If we’d spent more time as a couple. We had such trouble conceiving. Back then, teaching was a job. Emma was my world. We did everything together. I let Hugh become an afterthought. If only I’d—”

  “Stop.” He needed time to process all she’d confessed.

  Could she have missed warning signs? Though he was hardly in a position to judge, part of him had to wonder how she could have not seen something so horribly broken in a man she’d supposedly loved.

  He had to ask, “Is this why the rest of your family moved away? To get a fresh start?”

  She nodded. “M-my mother blamed me for what happened to Em and then blamed me again for Hugh. She said horrible things. Called me a pathetic excuse of a mom and wife. As if I hadn’t been through enough, her rejection was…unspeakably cruel.”

  Dallas’s heart would’ve been made of stone if he hadn’t felt for her. The woman had been through hell—twice. But why was she sharing all of this now? What was the point? As far as he was concerned, whatever attraction they might’ve shared was long gone. Their differences were just too great.

  He should’ve gone to her, wrapped his arms around her or kneaded her shoulders, but his feet felt frozen to the floor.

  “All of this must seem out of left field,” she said, wiping her eyes with a tissue she’d taken from a side table, “but in light of what else I have to tell you, I needed you to understand—everything—that makes me who I am today.” Wringing her hands on her lap, she asked, “Remember our night at the bar?”

  He damn near choked. “Kinda hard to forget.”

  “Yes, well, now it will be doubly so. I’m pregnant.”

  “What?” He knew if he hadn’t already been sitting, he would have fallen. This couldn’t be happening. Not in light of everything else going on with his girls. Dammit, but he hated himself for being stupid enough to have unprotected sex. For degrading his wife’s memory by bringing dishonor on the entire family. Worse still, for putting Josie in an unfathomable position. What the hell was wrong with him? He wasn’t eighteen anymore and he sure as hell wasn’t in any position to take on a second wife.

  “S-say something,” she pleaded, looking on the verge of again being sick.

  “I want to, but I’m not sure what.” He stood and paced, but the room was too cramped for the movement to work off much frustration. “Whereas I presume you’ve had at least a few days to get used to this idea, you might as well have just hit me over the head with a two-by-four.”

  Rising, Josie said, “Now that you know, feel free to leave.”

  He held out his arms only to slap them against his sides. “What do you want from me? An on-the-spot proposal?”

&
nbsp; “No, Dallas. You can relax. I don’t expect to marry you—ever.” Marching to the front door, she opened it for him. “But in the same respect, don’t you expect to play a role in my baby’s life.”

  “THAT’S IT, SWEETIE,” Natalie soothed, rocking Josie on the foot of her bed while she sobbed, “let it out. I’m sorry I ever pushed that creep on you. I had him all wrong.”

  “Y-you didn’t do anything. I was the one s-stupid enough to sleep with him.”

  “Yeah, but I did go on about how good-looking he was.”

  Nodding, Josie mumbled, “But he’s not. I hope the baby looks just like me.”

  “Of course, it will.” Nat combed her fingers through her friend’s hair.

  “A-and I never want to see Dallas again.”

  “I agree,” Nat said with more rocking. “Whatever it takes.”

  “A-and I need ice cream. Chocolate. Lots and lots.”

  “Right away.” Gathering her purse from where she’d tossed it on the floor, Natalie was instantly on her feet. “You sit tight and I’ll be right back with enough sinful calories to keep you and baby happy for weeks to come.”

  “NOT THAT THIS IS SOMETHING you wanna hear,” Cash said after Dallas had told Wyatt and him his news over beers in the ranch’s barn office. “But it wasn’t too long ago that you were lecturing me about how I owed it to the Buckhorn name to make an honest woman of Wren.”

  “True,” Wyatt said after a swig from his longneck bottle.

  “Back off,” Dallas warned. “You both know diddly about this situation.”

  “What’s to know?” Wyatt asked. He’d rested his feet on the desk, but drew them down, resting his elbows on his knees. “You got Josie pregnant. She seems nice. Really nice. Like a small-town kindergarten teacher should. Now how’s it going to look when a few months from now, she starts showing and naming her baby’s deadbeat father?”

  Slamming the last of his beer, Dallas argued, “Not my concern. I have the girls to consider. They’re my top priority.”

  “This isn’t like you.” Wyatt’s direct stare made Dallas uncomfortable as hell. “What’s really the problem? Bobbie Jo?”

  “Leave her out of this.” Taking another beer from the minifridge, Dallas used the desk’s edge to pop the top. “You of all people, have nothing to say on the topic of love.”

  “He’s got you there,” Cash chimed in. To Wyatt he noted, “When it comes to the ladies, your track record isn’t so hot.”

  Sighing, Wyatt was out of the chair. “That’s it. I’ve had my daily allotment of you both. I’m out of here.” After slapping on his hat, he was gone.

  “Feel free to follow,” Dallas barked to his little brother.

  “Oh—I will. First, you need to ask yourself if Josie’s child will mean any less to you than Bonnie or Betsy. If Josie has a son, are you going to give him your name?”

  Leaning his head back with a groan, Dallas urged, “Please, leave.”

  Thankfully, for once in his life Cash did as he was told.

  Alone save for racing thoughts and more guilt than a sober man could handle, Dallas reached for a pen and yellow legal pad. He’d always prided himself on his logic. Business sense. What this situation called for was a sound plan.

  First, he’d list pros and cons of marrying Josie.

  On the pro side, when fire wasn’t flashing from her eyes, Dallas liked Josie a lot, as did the girls. Their one time together had been sheer, X-rated fantasy.

  In the con column, Josie currently hated him. Thought him an unfit father, which seriously irked the hell out of him. Then there was the not-so-little matter of what went down with her past. Her loss had been tragic, but for Josie’s mother to have virtually disowned her, was there truth to the matter of Josie having being negligent by not keeping closer tabs on her husband’s drug dependency? If so, what did that say about her parenting skills? Was she fit to raise the child they’d created, let alone become a stepmother to Betsy and Bonnie?

  A matter Dallas could hardly bear to dwell on were his own unresolved issues with grief. He was apparently well enough for casual sex, but more? A real, lasting marriage took not just love, but a lot of work from both sides. Was he in any way emotionally prepared to offer those things to a woman he hardly knew?

  Negatives clearly outweighed positives, but Cash’s question wouldn’t stop ringing through Dallas’s head. Dallas had been man enough to make a child. Was he really prepared to turn his back on the child just because the baby’s mother happened to be so wrong for him?

  Chapter Twelve

  “Come on, guys,” Josie urged her students two days later. It was time for them to gather their things to go home. Considering it was Halloween, the day hadn’t gone as badly as it could have, but the entire school had seemed especially rambunctious. “Let’s hustle.”

  Watching the Buckhorn twins efficiently fill their backpacks with the day’s papers, it occurred to Josie how much they’d grown—at least at school. For the most part, they did their work and conformed to school and classroom rules. As warmly as she felt toward them, she was that perturbed by their horrible father.

  Shelby had bus duty, so she stopped by to gather Josie’s crew. Next, the children who walked were dismissed, followed by those whose parents picked them up.

  Typically, the twins met their father outside, but on this day, they held back, scuffing their sneakers on the hall’s tile floors.

  “What’s up?” Josie asked. “Do we need to call your grandma for a ride?”

  “Daddy!” Both girls raced toward Dallas who strode tall and impossibly handsome toward her.

  He knelt to scoop them into his arms. “I missed you.”

  “We missed you, too, Daddy.” Betsy squirmed to be let down. “I wanna show you my scary black cat.”

  “No, me first,” Bonnie demanded. “My ghost is waaay scarier.”

  “Tell you what,” Dallas said, “while you get them out for me to see, let me talk to Miss Griffin.”

  “Okay.” With both girls momentarily occupied with pilfering through their backpacks, Dallas crammed his hands into his pockets. “Have a second?” he asked Josie.

  “Not really.” Entering her classroom, she sat behind her desk, moving her mouse to disengage a spook house screen saver.

  “Josie,” he said in an urgent whisper, “for the other night, I’m sorry. You caught me off guard in more ways than one and—”

  “Look, Daddy!” Bonnie held up her ghost. “Isn’t he, like, the scariest thing you’ve ever seen?”

  “He sure is.”

  Betsy pouted. “You don’t like my cat?”

  “Honey,” Dallas assured, “your cat is awfully scary, too.”

  “Tell you what,” Josie suggested, “how about you two take some paper from the special art drawer and make spooky pumpkins, to match?”

  “But we’re not allowed to ever go in that drawer,” Betsy reminded.

  “True,” Josie said, “and I’m proud of you for remembering. But just this once, go ahead.”

  “Cool!” Bonnie ran in that direction.

  “Thanks,” Dallas said. “I’d planned a big speech, but…”

  “Why are you even here?” she asked, her pain growing exponentially for each minute he was near. “The other night, you pretty much said everything that needed to be said.”

  “I didn’t come close,” he admitted. “But like you once told me, we need to talk. Come with the girls and me to the Halloween Festival tonight. We’ll make it a no-conflict zone. Maybe we’ll figure some things out, maybe we won’t, but we owe it to the little guy or gal inside of you to try.”

  In the worst way, Josie wanted to stick to her guns and deny him, but having always prided herself on putting Emma’s needs before her own, Josie knew she’d do the same with this child. Though she had no intention of growing any closer to Dallas than necessary, for the sake of their baby she’d at least be civil.

  “AREN’T THEY ADORABLE! Are they twins?” The white haired woman man
ning the Weed Gulch Chamber of Commerce’s basket-toss booth patted both girls’ heads. “I love nothing better on Halloween than Cinderella.”

  “We’re not stupid princesses,” Bonnie said, whipping a plastic microphone from her purse. “We’re Hannah Montana.”

  “Oooh…”

  Dallas apologized to the woman, confessing, “I didn’t know who that was, either.”

  Josie straightened Betsy’s blond wig. “You look cute. Just like Hannah.”

  “Thanks.” The girl added lip gloss. “I don’t know why nobody knows us.”

  “They’re dumb,” Bonnie said.

  “That’s enough out of you two.” Dallas cupped his girls’ shoulders, guiding them through the crowd. After stops at more carnival game booths than he cared count, Dallas finally found himself alone with Josie when the girls ran off to a giant, spider-shaped Jupiter Jump.

  “Want a Polish sausage?” she asked, nodding toward a stand.

  “Sure.” He reached for his wallet, but she shook her head. “I don’t need your money, Dallas. I’m more than capable of caring for myself and my baby.”

  “Our baby.”

  Lips pressed, she graced him with a hard stare before going for their food. With so many issues between them, where did he even start? They’d kept their conversation pleasant around the girls, but now that they were on their own, what would develop?

  While she stood in line, Dallas grabbed an empty picnic table.

  The Kiwanis sponsored a haunted house, complete with creaking door and cackling witch sound effects and fog rolling out from under the foundation. The home was manufactured and on loan from a Tulsa company that’d set up an adjacent advertising booth.

  “Here.” Josie set their food in front of Dallas before straddling the bench across from him. With the girls in view, she said, “I didn’t know what you wanted to drink, so I grabbed you a Coke. That okay?”

  “Yeah.” He bit into his kraut- and onion-covered dog. “Good call. This is delicious.”