The Rancher's Twin Troubles (6 page)

“Are we going to ride the Ferris wheel now?” The closer they got to the midway, the more excited Bonnie looked. “I love riding rides. It's the best.”

Much to Josie's surprise—and delight—Dallas marched right past the Tilt-A-Whirl with its pulsing rock music. He did the same with fifteen other rides.

“Daddy, we're missing all of the good stuff.” Betsy looked longingly toward the fun house.

“Uh-huh.” On and on Dallas walked until finally stopping at his truck.

“Are we going to the
auntie em
to get more money to buy us more stuff?” Assuming this must be the case, she jumped up and down with excitement.

Betsy joined in on the celebration.

As the girls scrambled into the backseat of the extended cab, fastening their safety belts, Josie asked Dallas under her breath, “Where are we really going?”

“Home.”

Josie flashed him a surreptitious thumbs-up.

Considering the twins' numerous tantrums followed by the attempted llama raid, enough was enough. Punishments were in order. “There's an
auntie em
, Daddy.” Bonnie pointed at a bank. “Get
lots
of money. I want a gorilla and more cotton candy and some of those purses.”

“I want cheesecake on a stick!” Betsy bounced on her seat.

“Surprise,” Dallas said, glancing in the rearview as he steered the truck off Yale Drive and onto westbound I44, “the only place you two are going is Choreville.”

“Where's that, Daddy?” Bonnie had so much cotton candy in her mouth Josie was surprised she could even speak. “Is there lots of money?”

“Not likely.” He passed a painfully slow minivan. “Since you'll be mucking out the horse stalls.”

“What? Why?” Bonnie pitched her cotton candy bag
into the front seat. “I thought we were going back to the fair?”

“Nope.”

From the backseat, tears and wails erupted. Wails so loud Josie had to fight the urge to cover her ears.

“Sorry about this,” Dallas said.

“Me, too. I was looking forward to riding the mini coaster.”

His sideways glance and smile made her heart flutter. He'd always been handsome, but in light of his stern reaction to the fence-climbing incident, her new respect for him was infinitely more appealing than his rugged cowboy face. “Rain check for tomorrow night—this time, without squawking kiddos?”

“I can't,” she said with genuine regret above continued backseat sobs, “I have a dance class.”

“Seriously?”

“You say that like you can't imagine me performing even the most simple pirouette.” Did she really come off as that clumsy?

“I didn't intend it like that— Cut it out back there. I can't hear myself think.”

“You're mean!” Bonnie informed her father.

“Like I was saying,” Dallas continued without acknowledging his child's latest complaint, “that came out wrong. Actually, I meant
seriously
, as in I'm impressed.”

“Oh.” Oddly enough, she'd wanted to be upset with him. It would have made it easier to tell herself she wasn't disappointed about missing out on a private night together.

“How about Friday?”

“I can go to the fair
any
night, Daddy.” Suddenly tear-free, Betsy was all smiles.

“You're not invited,” he noted. To Josie, he asked, “So? Up for a do-over?” His easy smile not only stole her breath, but crept into her long frozen heart.

Though she knew better, Josie said, “Absolutely.”

“When I asked you to join me on this thing, I didn't plan on staying up here the whole night.” Dallas peered over the edge of the Ferris wheel's car, more than a little queasy about how small all of the people looked below.

“I think it's kind of cool.” Far from being spooked by the height, Josie gazed at the panoramic view with enough wide-eyed awe to suggest their predicament was a special treat. All of the midway's bawdy sights and sounds and smells were still there, but muted, as if he were watching them in a movie.

“Ugh.” He edged closer to the seat's center, in the process, pressing even closer to her. “Sorry about this. I'd hoped tonight would be fun, but it's turning out to be a disaster.”

“Why, Mr. Buckhorn,” she teased, “are you afraid of heights?”

“Nope,” he said with a vehement shake of his head.

“So if I made the cart swing, you wouldn't mind?” She bounced just enough to rock them with the magnitude of a 6.0 earthquake.

“Crap on a cupcake,” he muttered with a white knuckled grip on the safety bar, “please stop.”

“You are scared.” Arm around his shoulders, she gave him a supportive squeeze. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pulled that last stunt.”

“Might've been nice if you'd skipped it.” Teeth gritted, he willed his heart rate to slow. Damned embarrassing was what this was.

“What brought this on?” When Josie took hold of his hands, he focused on her. The sincere warmth behind her brown eyes. The way a light breeze played with her curls. She was country pretty, freckles providing the only makeup needed.

“Wh-when my brothers and I were kids, Wyatt—he's next oldest to me—dared me to jump off the barn roof and into a cattle tank. I'm thinking I must've been around eight or nine, but feeling immortal. I not only took him up on his dare, but broke my right leg in two places. Spent that whole summer cooped up in bed and the damned thing still hurts in the rain.” Focusing on Josie's eyes, her soft lips, he forced a breath. “To this day, I can't stand being higher than I sit up on my favorite horse.”

“Then why did you suggest riding the tallest ride on the fairgrounds?”

The simple logic behind her question brought on a smile. “Okay,” he admitted. “Truth? I wanted to show you how manly I am. But I loused that up good, didn't I?”

“Men…” She laughed, but something about the gesture struck him as sad. “I was more impressed by your
recent handling of twin shenanigans than I would ever be by a daredevil stunt—even one as impressive as sitting on an upright track, slowly circling round and round.” Her sassy wink told him she was teasing, but her tone implied more.

“Taking a wild stab in the dark,” he said, glad for the diversion, “why do I get the feeling you're not all that thrilled with men as a species? Been hurt?”

“More in the realm of pulverized, but let's not ruin our night.” Logic would dictate that after such a statement, she'd free her hold on his hands, but instead, she tightened her grip.

“Want me to roughen him up?” Dallas suggested. One thing he never backed down from was a good fight.

“No use. He did the job for you.”

Forehead furrowed, he said, “I don't get it.”

“Never mind. I shouldn't have said anything.”

“But you did.” And he needed to know why those few words had her rummaging through her purse for tissue she used to wipe the corners of her eyes.

With a jolt, their car began the long journey down. All of the occupants around them clapped and cheered.

“What a relief, huh?” Josie's smile was forced. Her expression tight, as if the effort of making casual conversation was too much. “Bet you'll be glad to get your feet back on the ground.”

A few minutes earlier, he would have, but now, all he wanted was to return light to her eyes.

 

“H
OW ADORABLE.”
J
OSIE KNELT
in front of the 4-H craft display, wondering at all of the work nimble fingers had
put into the dollhouse. The home had been outfitted with pint-size solar panels and was part of an exhibit designed to explore nontraditional forms of energy. “I never get tired of seeing what kids can do.”

“You seem to have a real affinity for children.”

“They're amazing.” She studied the bios of the eight fourth-graders who'd worked on the project. “With them you always know where you stand. No mind games.”

“Experienced much of that? People messing with your head?”

She shrugged. “Enough to know it sucks.”

Moving on to a photo display, he said, “Considering how many times you've dealt with my girls and your recent Ferris wheel rescue of me, I owe you an ear if you ever need anyone to listen.”

“Thanks.” She angled toward him, fidgeting with her hands. The turn in conversation was awkward to say the least. In fact, the whole night had been forced. Oh—and she wouldn't even try denying that while they'd been crammed together three stories in the air, every time they touched sparked hot, achy awareness she'd rather forget. “Really. But when it comes to personal matters, I prefer keeping them to myself.”

“Ouch. I would've liked to think we're friends. Especially since this is our first official date.”

“Is that what tonight is?” Two boys ran between them, shooting at each other with wooden rifles. The distraction gave her time to think. “Because the idea of
dating
someone—even a guy as great as you—isn't at all appealing.”

Alongside a terrarium loaded with lizards, he froze. “Talk about a ballbuster. That hurts.”

“Please don't take it personally. It's not a rejection of you, so much as the principle. I have a hard enough time figuring out what to do with myself, let alone someone else.”

“Fair enough. Truthfully, I feel the same. But then chemistry kicks in. Confuses the hell out of me.”

Sharply looking away to hide her blush, Josie fought for air. He'd noticed? The way each time they touched the temperature rose by ten degrees? “You're making me uncomfortable.”

“Good.” They'd wandered into the vegetable area of the show barn. Judging had long since been completed and plates of carrots, zucchinis and green beans were no longer a big draw. Nearly alone in the mammoth space, Dallas stopped in front of her, bracing both of his hands on a display table. He hadn't even touched her, yet his proximity was unbearable. As usual when he was near, caged excitement coursed through her. As if whenever the man was around,
anything
could happen. “It's only fair you be as far from your comfort zone as I am from mine.”

“Wh-what's that supposed to mean? Beyond our conversations about Betsy and Bonnie, I hardly even know you.”

“Yes, but would you like to? That was kind of the idea behind tonight.”

“No,” she said, ducking under his arms to escape. “That's not what I want at all. I lead a wonderfully
peaceful life—at least I did before your twins took over my classroom.”

“Me, too—I mean, my days are all fairly predictable. And that works for me. Only thing not working lately, are my irrational urges to kiss you.”

Josie was no medical expert, but didn't people die from racing hearts? Dallas stood miles into her personal space, smelling like every forbidden fruit. Cotton candy. Caramel apples. All things she craved, but as a responsible adult, steered clear of. His warm exhalations teased her upper lip. His blazing blue eyes held an open challenge.

“Please, Josie, tell me I don't want to kiss you.”

She gulped. “You don't. For the twins, we should be friends, but nothing more.”

“Agreed.”

“Th-then why,” she asked with hitched breath, “are you still so near?”

“God's honest truth?” He leaned in close enough for her to taste his sweet breath, but then sighed before backing away. “Don't have a clue. But trust me, won't happen again.”

 

“
O
OOH, A BOXED SET OF
Dawson's Creek
.” Josie snatched her treasure before any of her fellow yard sale aficionados had the chance. For only eight on Saturday morning, the crowds were already thick.

“Avoid the topic all you want,” Natalie said, having found her own treasure in the form of three wicker baskets. She used them for making care packages for sick coworkers or students whose families could use a little
anonymous help. “But mark my words, you're falling for Dallas Buckhorn.”

“That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard you say.” Josie added a few lightly read picture books to her must have pile. “I'm not sure how, but Dallas and I have forged a unique friendship.”

Natalie snorted. “Based upon mutual hotness?”

Josie hit her over the head with a Thomas the Tank Engine pillow.

“No need for violence,” Nat complained, “especially when you know I'm right. You're cute. He's approaching human god status. Whatever you want to label it, you two just might work.”

The day was gorgeous. Cool and crisp without a cloud in the sky. So why did her friend seem intent on ruining it? Natalie, better than anyone, knew her past. She knew why Josie had dedicated her life to teaching and helping children while whenever possible avoiding men.

Though Natalie's lighthearted tone told Josie she was kidding, it was hardly a secret that as much as Josie didn't want a romantic entanglement, her friend did. “I've got an even better idea. What if you believe me that I'm not interested in Dallas and you go for him?”

“Nah.” Nose wrinkled, Nat said, “Considering how hard he's tried to impress you, what with the ponies and cupcakes and donuts, I think he's all yours.”

 

M
ONDAY MORNING,
J
OSIE
found herself in the awful position of not only being called to substitute bus duty, but doing it in a relentless downpour. Cold to the point her teeth were chattering, she tried being cheerful about
directing shrieking first, second and third graders off their buses and into the school gym. Only two of her students rode the bus and they were both already safely inside.

The few students who walked to school wore rain boots and carried umbrellas. The girls huddled together to stay dry, while the boys pretended they had swords, giving little thought to the fact that they'd be sitting in wet clothes for a good portion of the day.

Traffic for the children whose parents drove them to school was heavy. More than a few wrecks were narrowly avoided and typically well-mannered drivers had resorted to honking and rude gestures in futile attempts to escape the crowded lot.

When a familiar black truck pulled alongside the curb, Josie's stomach lurched.

“Hi, Miss Griffin!” Bonnie, decked out in sunny yellow rain garb, hopped out. “Betsy lost a tooth.”

“I wanted to tell her,” Betsy complained, her raincoat, hat and boots pink. “You ruin everything!”

“At least I'm not ugly!” Bonnie hollered.

An ear-splitting whistle came from behind the driver's seat. “Ladies, remember what I told you about bickering? Especially at school. Now, get inside.”

“Bye, Daddy,” they said in unison, chins drooping.

“Call if they give you any more trouble.” Warmth blasted from the truck's heater vents. Even better, was the heat radiating from his smile.

“I will.” Why was she suddenly breathless?

“You look cold—but in a cute way.”

“Thanks?” Cute was good. At least it had been back in high school. But she felt a million years from that girl.

“Need me to bring you anything? Coffee? Hot cocoa?”

“Sounds delicious, but I'm on duty. Ten more minutes before I can even think about getting warm and dry.”

He nodded. “I understand. Well…hope the rest of your day goes better.”

“Me, too.”

As the crowd dwindled outside, the more Josie was left on her own with her thoughts. Lately, a place she didn't like to be. When she'd seen his truck, she'd dreaded meeting Dallas again. Then he'd wowed her with his smile and she'd been a goner. What was it about the man that left her off balance? Making her doubt her carefully placed emotional walls that thus far had served her so well?

The bell rang, and she no longer had time to think of anything other than squeaky sneakers on the hall floors and her squirming class complaining of being cold and wet. With everyone miserable, she abandoned the usual lesson in favor of story time in the nap corner.

Midway through the tale of a dachshund who hates his brothers and sisters, Natalie entered the room. She carried a steaming, extra-large paper cup from the town's only coffee shop. As surreptitiously as possible with so many eyes on her, she knelt to whisper, “A certain father of twins left this in the office for you. He said seeing you shiver made him sad.”

Accepting the drink, sampling it to find hot chocolate so sinfully rich and yummy she felt guilty drinking it in
front of her students, Josie tried drawing less attention by getting back to the story. No such luck.

Still in whisper-mode, Nat said, “Care to explain why a guy like Dallas Buckhorn would even care if you're shivering?”

“No.”

“What about my dad?” Bonnie asked.

“Nothing, sweetie.” Josie cast Nat her most stern Teacher Glare. It only broadened the size of her friend's smile.

 

“Y
OU FINALLY WARM?”
D
ALLAS
asked when he saw his call was from the girls' school. He assumed it was Josie, because the girls were in music class at this time on a Monday.

“Yes. Anyone ever told you you're crazy sweet?”

“Not lately,” he said, followed by a laugh loud enough to startle his horse. With a couple of cows ready to calve, despite the rain, he made the long ride out to the south pasture to check them. He could've driven, but he liked being out on days like this. Made him feel closer to all of the cowboys who'd worked the land before him. “How have my little deviants behaved this morning?”