A Dad for Her Twins (20 page)

“No, not interested,” Eva said. “Dad's got a new ranch hand coming in today, and I want to be there. Something's going on, and I can't quite put my finger on it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Dad's being secretive, more so than usual. Makes me worry. Last time we brought in a new hire this quickly, it was Mitch.”

Jane made a face. “I remember. Last summer he was the one who wanted to sleep until noon every day and then needed two hours before he was ready to work. You hired him back, right?”

“Dad did. And the time before that it was some writer who wanted to work on the ranch as research for his book. We actually needed someone in that position. He quit the second day, muttering about dirty fingernails and finding a scorpion in his boot.”

“I hate when my fingernails get dirty,” Jane joked.

“Yeah.” Eva looked at her own nails. Unpainted, cut short, but very clean. Then she studied her hands, smooth and soft—without the calluses she'd have if she could find the courage to get back in the saddle. “We certainly can't afford a new hand, especially now. But Dad just says yes to anyone who asks.”

“Your busy season's coming up in a month or two. Maybe your dad's thinking ahead.”

“Maybe,” Eva said, but she didn't believe it. Her dad had a weakness for hard-luck cases and a habit of taking in ex-alcoholics, ex-cons and ex-rodeoers. Sometimes the ex-rodeoers worked out.

A bell sounded from the kitchen. Jane headed for the back with an “I'll be right out with your meal.”

The moment Jane disappeared, the restaurant's door opened. Eva reached down, snagged her book from her purse and randomly turned to a page as she tried to ignore the family. It wasn't easy. They were the elephant in the room, and fact was much more entertaining than fiction.

The woman was loud and defensive. She kept prodding the little boy forward. “Hurry up, Timmy. Sit down, Timmy.” Once the kid was settled, she dropped her car keys on the table with a clatter. The man wore brand-new jeans, about two sizes too big, and a dark-blue T-shirt that stretched across his chest. He looked like he'd rather be anywhere else. Well, from what Eva had overheard, no wonder. He slid a duffel bag under the table and put his left foot on it as if he were afraid it would escape. His gaze slid across the room, finding hers and locking in. His eyes were dark and brooding. The little boy looked in need of a bath and scared of both adults.

Embarrassed, Eva turned away. Her youngest sister, Emily, would see a story begging to be told. Eva just saw people struggling with problems they'd made for themselves and probably did nothing to change.

“Here ya go,” Jane said, putting a hot plate in front of Eva and snagging ketchup and maple syrup from her apron pocket. “Your toast will be out in a few minutes. Cook burnt it.”

“That's okay. You've got some other customers.” Eva nodded at the newcomers.

“Oh, thanks. I didn't hear them come in.” Jane took out her pad and headed over to stand between the man and boy.

The little boy was eating a cracker left on the table from a previous diner. His dirty, bare feet were tucked under him as if he knew that shoes were required.

“I'm hungry, haven't eaten since last night,” the woman said, then loudly gave her order and the boy's. Once the man made his selection and Jane walked away, the man leaned in to do the talking.

“I can't believe you didn't call me, didn't put this in the letter,” the man said, obviously trying to keep his voice low.

Maybe Eva should just leave. When Jane came back, Eva'd ask for a to-go box, never mind the toast.

“Surprise for me, too,” the woman insisted. “This Matilda showed up at my house last Monday. She said she couldn't take care of Timmy anymore. She showed me his birth certificate. Your name isn't on it, but look at the kid. He's you all over again.”

Eva peeked over her book. Same hair, same facial shape, same skin tone, same deer-in-the-headlights expression. Yup, they were related.

Just then Jane brought out salads for their table. The moment she finished, Eva would let her know she needed a to-go box. The woman dug right in. So did the boy. The man, however, bowed his head in prayer.

Something Eva had forgotten to do.

She'd been too busy being judgmental.

Copyright © 2015 by Pamela Tracy Osback

ISBN-13: 9781460379929

A Dad for Her Twins

Copyright © 2015 by Lois M. Richer

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