The Rancher's Twin Troubles (17 page)

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Authors: Laura Marie Altom

BOOK: The Rancher's Twin Troubles
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“Sweetheart…” he left his side of the booth to join Josie, pulling her into a hug. “That's just it. Emma will always be with you. In your heart. You don't need dresses or books or a tea set to remind you. All you need is to close your eyes and remember.” Stroking the tops of her fingers with his thumbs, he said, “If that doesn't work, lean on me. When are you going to learn that no matter what, I'm here for you. But I'm not psychic. You have to ask. Tell me exactly what you need whether it's a late-night cheeseburger or strong shoulder to cry on.”

Nodding, her teary-eyed expression struck him as alarmingly hollow.

“What does Natalie say about all of this? She's the school counselor, right?”

“I'm pretty sure she thinks I'm going off the deep end.”

“Nah.” He smiled. “You're just understandably tired from lugging around my big, strapping son.”

Ignoring his stab at humor, she asked, “Please take me home with you. Maybe I could sleep if you'd hold me.”

“Done. How about we get our food to go, and you can eat in a nice, warm bath. Sound good?”

“Like heaven.”

Thirty minutes later, Dallas had helped Josie off with her clothes and settled her in the water. He assembled her meal on a plate, nuked it for a minute and then set it on the stainless steel toiletry rack suspended across the tub.

“Need anything else?”

Upon taking her first bite, ketchup dribbled on her left breast. “Napkin, please.”

Grinning, he leaned close, lapping up the mess.

“Mmm.” Closing her eyes, she finally gave him the satisfied smile he'd been craving.

He took the burger from her, stealing a bite for himself. When more ketchup fell, he licked that, too.

“You did that on purpose, didn't you?”

“I'll never tell.”

Holding out her arms, she commanded, “Leave the food alone and get in with me.”

“Thought you'd never ask.”

After making awkward, splashing, laughing love, Dallas added more hot water and then took the fancy spa shampoo his mom had placed in a basket and poured some into his palm. He warmed it, then with Josie leaning against his chest, massaged it into her scalp. Her hair was one of his favorite things about her. It was long and vibrant and unpredictable—just like her.

“Feel good?” he asked when she groaned.

“Indescribably so. You might want to ration this spoiling or I'll be expecting first-class service every night.”

“I'm sure we can work out a deal,” he said in a suggestive tone.

 

“Y
OU LOOK PRETTY,” SHELBY
mentioned as they moved through Wednesday's lunch line. It was pizza day and both craved junk food.

“Thanks. I feel pretty—and hungry.” When it was her turn in line, she asked Paula for two slices.

“How's the wedding planning business?” her friend asked on the way to the teachers' table. “You're down to what? Only a week and a few days?”

“Don't remind me.” Seeing Shelby struggle with her milk carton, she opened it for her.

“You have ninja skills when it comes to opening these things.”

Josie teased, “That's why I make the big bucks.”

As more friends joined their table, conversation ebbed and flowed. Josie glanced across the cafeteria to see Bonnie and Betsy bathed in midday sun. They were laughing with the girls in their new class and looking adorable with the braids she'd made for them that morning. They didn't know she and their father had spent the night together in the guest house, just that she'd decided to join them for breakfast. Their actions still stung. Josie wanted to forgive them for selling Emma's belongings. It had been an accident. Her brain understood, but her heart hadn't gotten the memo.

She and Dallas had made love that morning. Slow and sweet and tender, Dallas had shown her in fifty little ways how much he cared. Her worries about marrying him should have vanished. Instead, the knot in her throat felt like a grapefruit.

Chapter Seventeen

“Surprise!”

When Josie walked into the dark school gym hand in-hand with Dallas, the shock of encountering at least a hundred friends all assembled for what was supposed to have been a low-key bridal shower was enough to send her pulse racing.

“Did you know about this?” she asked.

“Nope.” Wearing a big grin, he indeed looked as stunned—and flattered—as she was.

A DJ played a rock-and-roll version of the wedding march while friends and coworkers crushed them with well wishes. The normally utilitarian space had been transformed into a Valentine wonderland. Round tables dotted the room and the wood floor had been covered in rose petals. It took three tables to hold all of the gifts and another long table bowed from the weight of appetizers, punch, candy and cake. Foil red and pink hearts hung from the ceiling along with plenty of red streamers.

The cake was a work of art shaped like an old fashioned red schoolhouse complete with a candy playground, students, a teacher and of course, a cowboy.

Bonnie and Betsy ran up to their father. Their grandmother grabbed hold of their hands, trying to slow them down.

“Are all of those presents for me?” Bonnie asked, gaping at the colorful pile.

“They're for Josie,” Dallas said. “This is her bridal shower. One day when you and Betsy get married, you'll have a party like this, too.”

“Do I have to marry a boy?” Betsy asked. “I want the presents, but no kissing.”

Laughing, Dallas seized the moment to lay one on his glowing bride-to-be.

Shelby handed Josie a glass filled with red punch. “Considering the theme, we should have warned you not to wear white.”

“I'll be careful,” Josie assured. Though her white, cashmere sweater was a favorite of her few new maternity clothes, she was also parched. The ginger ale-cherry blend hit the spot.

“We've got great friends,” Dallas noted, nodding across the dance floor at Henry and their neighbor Dorothy boogying with the twins.

Snuggling against him, Josie couldn't have agreed more.

After everyone had worn themselves out from doing the Chicken Dance, eating and getting their entries ready for the toilet paper wedding dress contest, it was time for gifts.

Bonnie and Betsy didn't even try hiding their displeasure at not receiving a single thing. While most guests oohed and clapped for everything from an exquisite vase
to sumptuous lingerie, the twins sat in a corner with crossed arms and scowls.

Finally, Dallas headed over to talk to them.

Josie wasn't sure what he'd said, but a few minutes later, the girls were running and laughing with the few other kids and politely asking for seconds on cake.

Wonder of wonders, Dallas was turning into a surprisingly good father.

 

T
HE REHEARSAL DINNER
was being held poolside, and through the magic of lots of money and Georgina's considerable party-planning skills, she'd rigged a heated tent over the pool deck, completing the scene with floating candles and fake floating swans. She'd fought for real birds, but Dallas had convinced her that if they paddled into flames it could result in adding them charbroiled to the menu.

“Georgina,” Wren said, “you've outdone yourself. I've never seen the house look more beautiful.”

“Thank you.” Dallas's mother beamed. “I can't claim all the credit, though. My new daughter-in-law is no slouch when it comes to planning.”

“You're being overly gracious,” Josie said. “All I remember saying is I love a good filet mignon and you took it from there.”

Adjusting an off-center floral arrangement, she said, “Every party has to start somewhere.”

A jazz singer crooned Dean Martin favorites while a chef created flaming shrimp kebab appetizers. Everywhere Josie turned was laughter and the tinkling of fine crystal and silver.

The event was like a featured magazine article, dreamed up by set and costume designers. Her silk ivory dress was so exquisitely tailored that it managed to hug her body in all of the right places, making her feel sexy instead of pregnant.

“Have I mentioned how gorgeous you look?” Dallas asked while his mom and Wren kept chatting.

“Not lately, but I'm always amenable to compliments.”

The evening wound along without a hitch through dinner and Dallas's favorite key lime pie for dessert. After heartfelt toasts from Josie's maid of honor, Natalie, and Dallas's best man, Wyatt, came more dancing. Josie abandoned her agonizing heels on the seat of her chair in favor of going barefoot.

Midway through their dance, Bonnie came over, announcing that she'd like to dance with her father.

Exhausted, Josie was pleased to bow out.

She was also in need of a restroom, but since both downstairs powder rooms were in use, she headed upstairs to Dallas's room. It seemed surreal that the big, beautiful home would her hers, as well.

Eager to return to the party, she washed her hands, then surveyed her hair in the mirror.

Back in the bedroom, she paused to see if Dallas had cleared the dresser he'd promised she could use. Opening the top drawer, she found it brimming with socks and boxers. She'd changed her entire life, and he couldn't even bother cleaning a few drawers?

Suddenly the gravity of what she was on the verge of doing hit hard. She sat down on the bed, her mind and
emotions whirling. Thinking that if Emma was looking down at her she might feel abandoned, Josie was consumed with grief. The crushing pain stemmed from so deep inside it was hard to breathe.

“Hey, gorgeous.” She looked up to see Dallas enter the room. He looked every bit as handsome as ever—if not, more. Only now she realized how little she really knew him. “I've been looking for you. Apparently Mom has fireworks and she understandably doesn't want them to start without the bride.”

“We need to talk.”

“Sure,” he said, taking her hands, urging her to her feet, “but let's make my mother happy first. You know how she gets, especially when it concerns a wedding.”

“No, Dallas.” Yanking her hands free, she scooted away from him. “You don't understand. There isn't going to be a wedding.”

“What are you saying?”

“I can't let go. Emma needs me—if only to keep her memory alive.”

“Honey,” Dallas said, voice laced with concern, “are you even listening to yourself? You're not making sense.”

“Seeing as how you couldn't even empty a sock drawer, neither does this marriage.”

 

“W
ANT TO HELP ME WITH A FEW
hundred calls?” Georgina asked Dallas Saturday morning. “While you were still puking whiskey, Josie called bright and early, apologizing and telling me that she'd call all of her guests,
informing them that there isn't going to be a wedding. Well, you know what I say to that?”

“Can't imagine,” he said, head feeling as if one of Cash's bulls had stomped it.

“Horse manure. I've got a lot of time and money invested in this wedding, and by God, if I have to drag you two to the altar kicking and screaming, that's what I'll do.”

“I had enough dramatics last night.” Fishing aspirin from the medicine drawer, he chewed four and swallowed.

“Not enough to get your head out of your behind. Josie's understandably terrified. You should've reassured her. Held her through the night.”

“Please stop.” Sitting at the counter, he willed her to vanish from his life and prosper elsewhere.

“I'm just getting started. For years, I've watched you spoil those girls rotten and focus anything left on this ranch. When you met Josie, for the first time since Bobbie Jo passed, you've seemed truly alive. You've even done the impossible and wrangled in your kids. Josie was the answer to our prayers. She wasn't afraid to not only tell you how it is with your girls, but show you. And after that, she even worked her magic on you. Now you're going to let her get away when what she needs is reassurance and your loving support?”

“Dammit all, Mom, I'd appreciate you staying the hell out of my business.” He held his aching head in his hands.

His mother glared at him and left the room.

Only when she took off up the back staircase did
he finally dare relax. Lord, but she was a hot thorn in his side.

“Oh,” she shouted down the stairs, “lest you think I'm canceling this Hollywood-worthy event, you've got another thing coming. Get up off of your derriere and get your bride back here by seven o'clock sharp.”

 

J
UST WHEN
J
OSIE THOUGHT
she didn't have enough liquid in her to cry anymore, tears started up again.

“Please, eat,” Nat urged Saturday morning. “You need your energy. We have a long day ahead of us, calling all of your guests and returning presents.”

“I know,” Josie said.

“While you were in the shower,” Natalie said, hovering like a mother hen, “I called Georgina and she was not only understanding, but concerned.”

“That's because she knows I'm right. This wedding came about way too fast.”

Natalie set a glass of orange juice alongside Josie's scrambled cheesy eggs and toast.

The doorbell rang.

Josie groaned.

“I'll get it.” Natalie headed for the front door.

When Josie heard a commotion in the foyer, her stomach fell. How was she supposed to forget she'd ever met Dallas Buckhorn when he was at that very moment, striding his way down the hall?

“I've, um, got errands,” Nat said, taking her purse and keys before bolting outside.

“Hey.” With a night's stubble and sleep-tousled hair, Dallas looked heartbreakingly handsome. With every
breath in Josie's body, she now knew she loved him. She just didn't trust herself to know if in marrying him, she'd be doing the right thing. He held a pitifully wrapped package out to her. “I planned on saving this for tonight, but figure it might do me more good now.”

“Thank you.” She took the box from him only to set it on the entry-hall table. “But the wedding's still off. I can't just ride into the sunset with so much pain remaining in my past.”

Hands fisted, he made a guttural growl. “Ham on a cupcake, woman, you frustrate the hell out of me. You don't think I have a few issues of my own? That's what marriage is—the two of us coming together to heal each other.”

“I get that,” she snapped, arms tightly folded, “but none of that changes how I feel. Don't you understand that once your husband betrays you to the tune of killing your child—even if it was an accident, it still tends to sting? Now I'm supposed to happily skip down Bridal Lane all over again? I can't even begin to describe how Hugh's suicide destroyed me. Then, when my own mother declared I was the cause for every tragedy that's happened…” Josie broke down, releasing years of grief in great, racking sobs.

Dallas didn't care that she tried pushing him away, he held her through the worst of it, until she was too exhausted to do anything but cling to his arms.

“I brought you something else that was supposed to have been a surprise.” He kissed the top of her head. “You'll no doubt be mad at me for this, too, but before
we
can be whole, you need to be whole.”

“There isn't going to be a
we,
” she insisted through more sniffles.

“I know, but just sit tight for a few minutes. I have a feeling someone else is at the door.” He went outside, a few minutes later returning, pulling someone behind him.

Josie's mother.

“I'm so sorry,” her mom cried in a rush, running into her daughter's arms. “I said awful, unforgivable things to you. I was out of my mind. Losing little Em was unnatural. Grandparents don't bury their grandchildren.”

“I know.” Josie crushed her mother to her. In mere moments, years vanished, as did the pain. Yes, her mother had hurt her, but just as Josie had opened her heart to love again, she'd also learned to forgive.

“You've got a good man, here,” her mom said with a nod to Dallas. “He flew every last one of us all the way out here from Maine. He had some harsh, much deserved words for me, but nothing but love for you. Don't let him get away.”

Holding out her hand to him, drawing Dallas into their circle, Josie simply said, “I won't.”

 

A
FTER SAYING THEIR VOWS
and dancing and eating more cake than her barely fitting wedding dress could comfortably hold, Josie finally found herself cozy and warm in the guest cabin, nestled next to her husband of approximately five hours. In lieu of sexy lingerie, she wore roomy sweats and thick white socks.

In the morning, Henry was driving them to the Tulsa airport for a plane bound for a surprise exotic location
Dallas had promised would be warm. The girls were staying with his mom.

Her parents, brother and his wife and kids had already planned a return visit when Josie's baby was due.

“You're beautiful,” Dallas said, cupping the side of her face. “Thank you for taking a chance on me—us.” He kissed her. Softly. Sweetly. The way a husband tenderly kissed his beloved wife.

“Thank you for being strong enough to see me through…” Grasping his wrist, she kissed the palm of his hand. “Emma will always be in my heart. I just needed reminding that there's also plenty of room for you, the twins and our baby.”

“Speaking of your daughter…” He reached beside the bed, drawing out the ragged gift he'd tried giving her that morning. “As you can see, gift wrapping's hardly my forte, but hopefully what's inside will more than make up for my lackluster presentation.”

Intrigued, she scooted up in the bed, sitting cross legged with his package on her lap.

With the paper gone, she lifted the flaps of an equally ugly box. Upon looking inside, she gasped. Looked at Dallas. Back to the box. “No…” Hands over trembling lips, eyes stinging with happy tears, she dared ask, “Is it really hers?”

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