The Rancher's Twin Troubles (12 page)

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?

“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.

 

“A
REN'T THEY ADORABLE
! Are they twins?” The white haired woman manning 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.”

She nodded. “So? Where do we start?”

“You mean on repairing us?”

“News flash,” she said after her latest bite, “but there never was an
us.
We shared a few kisses, secrets and one hot night I'd rather forget.”

“Meaning,” he asked, “if you had it to do over again, you'd wish you weren't having my baby?” Just asking the question had been surprisingly hard. He wouldn't have expected to even care what she thought on the matter, but inexplicably, he did.

Setting her meal to her paper plate, she molded her hands to her stomach. Was he imagining things, or did the motion produce a wistful smile? She looked beautiful, yet fragile. Her complexion was like porcelain specked with just enough freckles to give her a mischievous smile. At least, what he remembered of her laughing. How long had it been? “No matter how rocky things are between us, I view this child as a blessing.”

“On that we agree.” If only there wasn't so much more on which they disagreed.

 

A
T HER BALLET CLASS
T
HURSDAY
night, Josie felt heavy and awkward and cranky.

Typically, everything from the classical music to camaraderie with her friends boosted her spirits, but tonight, she just wanted to finish already so she could
curl up with a good book and a spoon constantly loaded with ice cream.

“This baby kicking your butt?” Shelby asked when class was over. “Last week you looked ready for
Swan Lake
auditions. This week, more like an off-off-Broadway version of
Duck Lake
.”

“Ha-ha.” Josie knew her friend was teasing, but the words stung all the same. Daubing her sweating chest and forehead with a towel, she admitted, “Last night, I went with Dallas and the twins to the Halloween Festival. On the surface, with the girls, we kept things civil, but an underlying tension ruined the whole night. It's no secret I think he's a horrible father, but what he doesn't get is that beyond that, I deeply resented him for still having his girls, yet botching his duties toward them. Now that I'm pregnant, I feel almost traitorous to Em's memory, like I'm trying to replace her. And along with my second chance, I find myself wondering if Dallas deserves the same. Only we've said such ugly things to each other, I'm not sure if we'll ever be able to take them back. Let alone regain trust.”

“Slow down,” her friend advised while Josie took off her toe shoes and tucked them into her dance bag. “Everyone at school views you as the most levelheaded, sane one of our bunch. With a baby on the way, the last thing you need is stress. Obviously, if you and Dallas were once hot enough for each other to make this baby, there has to be at least part of a foundation left for you to start building a new friendship.”

“I know.” Josie slipped on her coat over her leotard and crammed swollen feet into fleece-lined Crocs. “And
for the baby's sake, I'm willing to see if I might've judged Dallas too harshly. But what if he doesn't feel the same?”

 

“J
OSIE,”
D
ALLAS'S MOTHER
said Sunday afternoon, greeting her at the ranch house's front door with a warm smile. “It's so nice to see you again. The girls talk of you all the time.”

“In a good way I hope,” Josie asked with a cautious smile.

“The best.” Taking her coat, the older woman then led her toward a big country kitchen fragrant with lasagna. “I can't tell you how pleased I was when Dallas asked if it would be all right for you to join us for Sunday supper.”

“Yes, well…” Josie's stomach lurched. “I was flattered by the invitation.”

Friday, when picking the girls up from school, Dallas had confessed his brothers knew she was pregnant, but not his mom. He'd asked her to join him in presenting a united front that they were firm in their decision not to marry, but to jointly raise their son or daughter.

Funny thing is, she had never really agreed to any of that—just took it all in while Dallas outlined his plan as if raising their child meant no more than any ordinary business transaction.

“My son has been acting strangely.” Chopping tomatoes for a salad, she asked, “Any chance you know why?”

The back door burst open and in dashed two pink-
cheeked energy balls, running to her for hugs. “Miss Griffin!”

While returning their embraces, Josie looked up to see Dallas in all his cowboy glory. No matter their differences, her instinctual, physical attraction to the man was undeniable. Over faded jeans and dusty boots, he wore a long duster, leather work gloves and his hat. His whisker-stubbled cheeks were ruddy from the cold, and when he flashed a cautious smile, his blue eyes shone like the promise of spring. Granted, it might be a long time coming, but in the real sense and metaphorically, she indulged in cautious hope.

“Dinner smells delicious,” he said to his mom. To Josie, he said, “Glad you could make it.”

“Grandma,” Bonnie said, hopping onto a counter bar stool, “I'm hungry. Can I have cookies?”

“No. Dinner's almost ready.”

“But I'm hungry now,” the girl whined.

“Bonnie…” Dallas warned with a sternness to his tone Josie had never before heard. “How about you and your sister go get Uncle Cash, Robin and Aunt Wren.”

“Okay…” Chin drooping, Bonnie held out her hand to Betsy. “Come on, let's go.”

Wearing oven mitts, Mrs. Buckhorn noted, “Josie, ever think you'd see the day when Bonnie actually did what she was told with only a minimum of fuss?”

“When it comes to my students, I confess to being an eternal optimist. Both girls are performing much better in class.”

Dallas cleared his throat. “While we're on the subject
of kids, Mom, Josie and I find ourselves in a bit of a jam, and—”

“Save it,” the eldest Buckhorn snapped to her son, taking the lasagna from the over. “It's no secret Josie's carrying your child. The news is all over town. It's my hope that on the afternoon agenda is damage control? I'll spare you both the lecture on birth control and go straight into asking about the wedding. Because as I've already proven with Cash, there will be a wedding. No grandson or granddaughter of mine will be born without legally taking our name.”

More than anything, Josie longed to run off to the nearest bathroom and hide, but that wouldn't solve anything. “Mrs. Buckhorn, this isn't my first time to the so called rodeo and I don't have the stomach for weathering a second failed relationship.”

“Weed Gulch isn't exactly the best place for keeping secrets,” Georgina said while buttering French bread, “and I'm also well aware of your past. Trust me, my heart goes out to you for your loss, but that doesn't in any way give you the right to bring my grandchild into the world on a hotbed of scandal. You're a kindergarten teacher, for heaven's sake. What sort of example does it set for our young people when supposed role models are running around town unwed and pregnant?”

“Mom,” Dallas said, “that's enough. Josie and I are adults, well aware of the ramifications of our actions.”

“Ramify
this,
Mr. Fancy Words, if I have to drag you two down to the courthouse with my own bare hands, you will be married by the time this baby is born.”