The Rancher's Twin Troubles (10 page)

“You okay?” Monday morning, Nat stood behind Josie in the school cafeteria lunch line. “The look of death doesn't become you.”

Josie shot her supposed friend a dirty look.

Nat took an apple from the fruit bar. “Don't suppose your gray complexion and bloodshot eyes have anything to do with dancing at Remington's?”

Beyond mortified, not to mention still hungover, Josie focused on the chicken stir-fry Paula had put on her plastic tray.

“Mike—that UPS guy I've been seeing—was there. Said you put on quite a show.”

“Remind me at the end of this school year to move. I'm tired of my private life being everyone's business.”

Nat thanked Paula for her loaded tray. “Then you probably don't want to hear that gossip also has it that you and Dallas disappeared for a good thirty minutes out in the parking lot. Or that his ranch foreman drove your car home.”

“Shh…” Turning her attention to Paula, Josie said, “I'll have green beans, too, please.”

“The rumors are true?” The cafeteria worker's grin was even cheesier than Nat's. “You and Dallas Buckhorn are, like, a couple?”

“Of course not.” How upset would Josie's principal be if she up and quit midyear? Not only didn't she frequent Remington's, but she definitely had never indulged in a parking lot liaison. Worse yet, Josie's mind refused to stop replaying the mortifying public tryst. Memories brought with them the scorching brand of Dallas's fingertips on her behind.

“She'll deny it,” Nat said, adding her apple to her filled tray, “but check out those red cheeks. I'm telling you—something's up.”

Josie elbowed her friend's ribs. “Knock it off. I'm as single as they come and planning to stay that way.”

 

“B
OO.
”

In line at Weed Gulch's only combination gas and convenience store, Josie spun around to face Dallas in all of his glory. “It's you.”

“Oh, come on,” he leaned low to whisper in her ear, in the process sending a myriad of shivers through her, “play nice. We shared a moment. That's all. We still have the rest of the girls' school year to get through.”

“With that in mind,” she fairly hissed, praying no one either of them knew witnessed their scene as they moved up in line, “I think it best we only see each other in a school setting.” A week had passed since she'd last seen him, yet as far as her body was concerned it might as well have been mere seconds. He hadn't so much as grazed her, yet her whole body hummed.

Outside, she'd filled her car's tank, paying at the pump. Her only item was a twelve-pack of Sprite.

“Let me carry that for you.” Without asking, Dallas took it from her, setting his own supersize pack of beef jerky on top.

Irritable and feeling achy all of a sudden, Josie grumbled, “I managed just fine on my own, thank you very much.”

“Of course, you did.” He winked and her stomach fluttered in response. “But would it kill you to let a guy be a gentleman?”

“No.” But at the rate her pulse raced from his mere proximity—yes, technically, she may die. But oh, what a way to go. She'd forgotten his sheer size. The breadth of his shoulders and slightly bowlegged walk, as if he'd spent so much time on a horse, that even while standing on solid ground he craved being in his saddle. Reminding herself further nonprofessional fraternization between them would be ill-advised, Josie was beyond thrilled to have made it to the front of the line. “Could I please have my pop?”

He set it on the counter, but insisted on paying.

Though she thanked him, back at the pumps, she asked, “Was that necessary? What if someone had seen? What don't you get about the fact that I don't want to be associated with you.”

He set the case atop her car. “Hell, woman, it's just soda. Nothing to get your panties in a wad about, because trust me, last thing I need—or want—is one more female messing with my life.”

 

“N
O.”
B
ONNIE STOMPED
her feet and clamped her mouth shut.

“Daddy,” Betsy announced from in front of the twins' double bathroom vanity, “that means she's not going to brush her teeth tonight because the toothpaste is poison.”

“That's stupid.” Dallas flipped open the lid to the bubble gum sparkle flavor he'd bought specifically because Bonnie had wanted it. Taking a whiff, he noted, “Smells good to me—like a wad of that stuff you chew every day.”

“It tastes icky and I won't stick it in my mouth.” And to prove it, she ripped it from Dallas's hand only to toss it in the toilet.

“Oooh,”
Becky said. “You're in trouble.”

Dallas's first instinct was to call for his mother. Then he was wishing for Stella to return.

Bonnie propped her little fists on her hips and raised her chin, challenging him with a ghostly blue-eyed stare he hadn't seen for five agonizing years. If for only an instant, Bobbie Jo returned in the little girl their love had created. And it physically, emotionally, drove him to his knees.

“Daddy?” Betsy wrapped her arms around him in a hug. “Are you crying?”

Swiping tears he'd never wanted his girls to see, he said, “Nope. I'm just fine, and Bonnie's going to stick her hand in the toilet and get the toothpaste. She's then going to muck stalls until she's earned enough money to pay for it.”

“Am not! Am not! Am not!” After screaming her declaration at him, she ran for her room.

“Oooh.”
Betsy shook her head. “Now she's
really
gonna get it.”

“Go to bed,” Dallas said wearily.

Betsy scampered off, and he completed Bonnie's task, washed his hands then pondered heading to her room to lecture her, but on what? He had never missed his wife more. When it came to raising their girls, he suddenly felt as if he was failing miserably. When had they changed from adorable munchkins to monsters?

Before their wild night, Dallas would've asked Josie for help, but now that he recognized just how little self control he had in keeping his hands off her, he felt powerless in that arena, as well.

Maybe someday he'd be ready for a second shot at love, but for now, becoming the father Bobbie Jo had trusted him to be was his number-one goal.

 

O
F ALL THE ROTTEN LUCK
…

Dallas stood in the candy aisle of Mefford's—the town's only pharmacy. Surveying the antacids in the next section was Josie. Outside, the wind was fiendish and her red corkscrew curls formed a sexy-as-hell mane. The cold had pinkened her cheeks and the lips that still haunted his every daydream.

Hoping to avoid the woman, Dallas took the long way to the checkout, down the bandage and corn pad aisle. Too bad for him, Josie must've used the same tactic. Her furrowed brows told him she was just as annoyed by another chance meeting as him.

“Fancy meeting you here,” he said with what he hoped came off as a casual laugh.

“Getting ready early for trick-or-treaters?” she asked, eyeing his cart brimming with sweets.

“Nah. I've had trouble getting the girls to do their chores, so I figured positive reinforcement might work. You know, get them to brush their teeth, hand them a candy bar—that sort of thing.” He cringed. “Not that they'd get to eat it right then, but later.”

Josie crossed her arms and pressed her lips.

“What? You think it'd be better if I spanked them?”

“Dallas, most kids want their parents' attention. Have you ever tried something as simple as talking to them—especially Bonnie—and hearing from her why she's developed a penchant for trouble?”

Rolling his eyes, he noted, “I'm a grown man, and if I can't figure out how to fix her, how is she supposed to tell me?”

Hands to her temples, she closed her eyes. “You're an impossible man. Just once, when you ask for advice, and I take time from my schedule to give it, would you at least grant me the courtesy of pretending to listen?”

“I did, but I seriously doubt something as simple as asking Bonnie why she's so sassy is going to produce radical change.” Shaking his head and sighing, he muttered, “I'm starting to think maybe you're not such a great teacher.”

“Funny,” she snipped, “because I'm now certain you're an awful father.”

I
N THE DRUGSTORE PARKING LOT
, Josie was so upset by the nasty exchange that she retched in the grass alongside her car.

Life wasn't just unfair, but downright cruel.

In her heart, she knew she'd been an amazing mother. Emma had been the center of her existence. Josie had been firm when needed, gentle and loving and fun when not. She'd taught her basic numbers in fun ways like lying on the grass, counting clouds.

How dare Dallas accuse her of being anything less than an excellent teacher? Because in doing so, he'd also touched a raw nerve. How many times had she blamed herself for not having been more in tune with her husband? If she'd recognized his drug problem in time to find him help, would her happy life have never changed? Would Emma still be here, a lovely little girl with her whole life ahead of her?

That line of thought sent Josie retching into the bushes.

“Hey…” Tone considerably softer than the last time they'd talked, Dallas stepped up behind her. “You all right?”

“Does it look like it?” she snapped.

“Whoa.” Holding up his hands, he said, “I was just asking a simple question. No need to bite my head off.”

“Oh—there's every need.” She hadn't thought it possible to feel worse, but being near Dallas caused a headache in addition to her nausea. “You and I made a mistake. A horrible,
horrible
mistake. We're not friends.
I don't need you coming over here to check on me, when I'm obviously fine.”

“Whatever.” Turning his back on her, he walked away. “But I'd do the same for a stranger.”

Josie should have been pleased, but was instead oddly sad. Which made no sense. But then neither did this wretched flu refusing her a moment's peace.

 

“N
O,”
B
ONNIE SAID THAT NIGHT
when Dallas presented her with a new brand of toothpaste.

Betsy announced, “She doesn't like that one, either.”

Dallas was on the verge of brushing Bonnie's teeth himself whether she liked it or not, when he thought back to the brief conversation he and Josie had shared before things had gone bad. She'd urged him to talk to his daughters. Genuinely talk to them—as if they were old enough to understand.

“Tell me something,” he asked his oldest girl on a whim, “why are you always giving me so much trouble about brushing your teeth? You didn't used to. What's changed?”

Opening her mouth, she put her finger inside, proudly wiggling her right front tooth. “What if when I stick the brush in there it knocks my tooth out and then I choke half to death?”

“Okay, wait—when you threw your last paste in the toilet, you said it was because it tasted bad.”

“It did,” she said with a cock of her head. “'Cause if it knocked out my tooth and I choked half to death it would've been poison.”

Dallas supposed that was logical enough thinking—if
you were five. “So let me get this straight, you refuse to brush until that tooth falls out?”

She nodded.

Betsy suggested, “What if she just brushes all around that one? Would that work, Bonnie?”

“I s'pose.” And just like that, the battle and war had been won.

While Dallas was certain this small victory by no means marked the end of his parenting trials, at least he'd managed to do one thing right—and he hadn't even resorted to candy bar bribes.

Though he knew he had Josie to thank, his mouth went dry at the mere thought of admitting her victory. The woman made him crazy. Meaning the less he thought about her, the better off he'd be.

 

“I
'M WORRIED ABOUT YOU
.” A week later, Josie had just put the last of her kids on the bus when Nat approached, blowing on her hands to ward off the cold. “You're even more pale than usual.”

“In case you hadn't noticed,” Josie said, hustling into the warm school, “the sun hasn't been out in days.”

“Still…” Nat held open the door.

Cheeks stinging from the sudden warmth, Josie asked, “Have I mentioned lately how great you are for my ego?”

“Don't blame me. Shelby and the office crew noticed, too. When was your last physical?”

“Oh, for heaven's sake.” Ignoring her friend, Josie headed for her room to work on assembling student
portfolios. “When you have something fun to talk about come see me.”

Josie had barely been at her desk twenty minutes when her eyelids grew heavy. Exhaustion clung to her, weighing down on her shoulders like a warm velvet cape. Figuring a catnap wouldn't hurt, she rested her head on her desk…

Waking three hours later to find her classroom dark, Josie conceded it was time to give her doctor a call.

 

B
Y
M
ONDAY OF THE NEXT WEEK
, Josie sat in Doc Haven's office, having her blood pressure taken by his nurse. She still hadn't shaken her bug and it was getting ridiculous how many times she'd had to ask Shelby to watch her class. It couldn't be normal that she spent more time in the bathroom than with her students.

“Perfect,” the nurse said. “One-twenty over seventy five.”

“Good to know I'm not having a heart attack,” Josie grumbled.

“Oh, now, can't be all that bad. Open up and let me take your temperature.” When that turned out to be normal as well, she said, “Run on down to the bathroom and tinkle in a cup for me, and then the doctor will be in.”

Josie thanked the woman before completing her task.

Back in the exam room, she sat on the crinkly paper, hating the way it felt beneath her. Adding cranky to her list of symptoms, she slid off the table to fish through a magazine basket. Settling on
People,
she was midway
through an article on stars with their own Vegas shows when a knock sounded on the door.