The Rancher's Twin Troubles (11 page)

“Everyone decent?” Doc asked, slowly opening the door while reading her chart. Looking up, he seemed surprised. “Well, hello. Don't I usually see you on your turf?”

“Nothing personal,” Josie said with a wry smile, “but afraid so. We all appreciated you showing up so fast last week when Lyle Jenkins fell off the monkey bars. From the backward angle of his arm, even I could tell it wasn't a simple strain.”

“No kidding,” Doc said with a whistle. “Poor kid's gonna be in a cast for a while.” Taking a seat on a rolling black stool, he asked, “Back to you, what seems to be the problem?”

Josie described her now-impressive list of symptoms, convinced she must've picked up some rare flu. “I love my job, but it's gotten to the point that I literally have to force myself out of bed in the morning.”

“Hmph.” Standing, bushy gray eyebrows furrowed, the doctor checked her eyes, nose and throat. He felt the lymph nodes at the base of her head. Had her lie down while he palpated her abdomen and stomach. “All of the usual suspects seem fine. When was your last period?”

“Few weeks ago. It was lighter than usual, but nothing too out of the ordinary.”

“Is there a chance you might be pregnant?”

“Absolutely not.” While carrying Emma, she'd never felt better. Now, she resembled the walking dead. Whereas she'd been upset with her friends for noticing
how awful she looked, now it'd gotten to the point where it wasn't anything she could hide.

Nodding, he jotted the information in her chart. “Sit tight while I get my nurse back in here to draw blood.”

Joy. Nothing made her already agitated stomach more uneasy than the sight of her own blood.

Another knock sounded at the door, but instead of the nurse like she'd expected, it was Doc. “Ran into the lab tech in the hall. Looks like we caught a lucky break in figuring out what's wrong.”

 

P
REGNANT
.

The whole ride home, Josie couldn't decide whether to laugh or cry. Spotting is normal for some women the doctor said when she'd told him about her period. As for her feeling great when carrying Emma, he'd explained that away, too. Apparently each pregnancy plays by its own rules.

In her cozy little house she fed Kitty before making a beeline for Emma's room. While some people went to the cemetery to talk with their deceased loved ones, she'd always felt closer to her daughter here.

“Sweetie, I never saw this coming, did you?”

When she'd heard she was carrying her daughter, she'd cried from happiness. Now, hands covering her still-flat stomach, she wasn't sure what to feel. Of course, she was excited, but in a cautious way. As she would be if it was rumored Santa was bringing her a new laptop for Christmas. No use in celebrating until she had the box—or baby, in this case—in her hands.

On her feet, Josie moved about the room, touching photos of Emma when she'd been a baby and then a toddler and then a little girl at her first teddy bear tea party.

The phone rang.

Josie jogged to her bedroom to answer and said with forced cheer, “Nat, great news. Doc Haven says I'm anemic.” True. She wasn't ready to tell anyone the rest.

“That's it? Did you tell him how queasy you've been?”

“He gave me a head-to-toe exam and aside from the iron, I'm the perfect picture of health.”

“Whew. That means you'll be able to come Christmas shopping in Tulsa this weekend with me and Shelby.”

Laughing, she perched on the side of the bed. “I'm touched by the depth of your concern.”

“You know how worried I've been.”

“Yes, I do,” she said, plucking a brown leaf from the ivy on her nightstand. “I also know how much you've been dreading hitting the malls.”

“Got me there,” she admitted, “but back to your health, so all you have to do is pop a few vitamins and you'll be fine?”

“Uh-huh.” Especially in about seven and a half more months.

When Josie returned the cordless phone to its charger, she was trembling. Not so much from fear of once again becoming a mother, but from telling Dallas he was going to be a father.

Forcing a breath, she dug her cell from the bottom of
her purse and flipped it open to find Dallas's number. Once he answered, she said, “Are you available for dinner tomorrow night? We need to talk.”

Dallas was more than a little perplexed by Josie's invitation. Their last conversation wasn't even civil. When he'd questioned her as to why she felt the sudden need to play nice, she'd seemed evasive. Significant? Probably not, but as he parallel parked his truck in front of her vine-covered cottage home, he couldn't help but wonder if there would be more to the night than a simple meal.

Three weeks into October, though it was only six, darkness had fallen on an overcast day. The air was cool and crisp and laced with the scent of burning leaves. Somewhere on the block an old hound bayed. With no leaves on the trees, the lonesome sound echoed down the street.

He liked this season.

Crunching through fallen oak and maple leaves in her yard, he mounted the few steps to the front porch, ringing the bell.

She opened the door, holding out her arm to gesture him inside. “Hurry. It's chilly.”

On his way past, he handed her a bottle of merlot and a flower bouquet. “Thanks for the invite.”

“You're welcome.” She shut the door.

“What smells so good?”

“Roast. It's been in the Crock-Pot all day.” He trailed her into a homey kitchen what was too frilly for his taste, but he could see where a woman would find it appealing. While she put the bouquet of fall blooms in an antique Mason jar, he started rummaging through drawers.

“What are you looking for?” she asked.

“Corkscrew.” Why, he couldn't say, but his runaway pulse sent signals to his brain that this was a date, when nothing could be farther from the truth. He needed a drink. Preferably bourbon, but in a pinch, vino would do.

From down the hall, a cat came running only to hit a full stop, sitting back on his or her haunches.

“Who is this furry creature joining us for dinner?” Dallas asked, kneeling to stroke Josie's pet behind its ears.

“Kitty is the man of the house, and has highly discriminating tastes. I doubt he would lower himself to sample my fare.”

Chuckling, Dallas scratched under the cat's chin. “Sorry, fella. I have a feeling you don't know what you're missing.”

“Speaking of missing,” she said, nodding behind him. “You might check over there for the corkscrew.” Josie placed the flowers on an antique, hardwood table. “Second drawer down, to the right of the stove.”

“Thanks.”

While he popped the cork, she got glasses, holding them out for him to pour. “You're trembling.”

“Hungry,” she said, hastily setting them on the counter. “Thomas lost a tooth, then misplaced it. Took a couple hours to find it. My whole afternoon was shot. With what little time was left over, we played number bingo.”

“Sounds good to me.” He grinned. “Especially since my girls weren't involved in the tooth incident— I hope.”

Pushing aside her wine, she said, “You're safe. They actually helped with the search.”

“Whew.” He feigned wiping sweat from his brow.

“We've got about twenty minutes till the potatoes are ready. What would you like to do? Cards? TV?”

Finishing his wine, pouring a fresh glass, he asked, “How about we use that time to get to the heart of the matter—why you called.”

“Yes, um, about that…” Her complexion blazed, much to his dismay, making her all the more attractive. Making the night in general all the more strange.

A timer dinged—saving her from giving him a straight answer.

While Josie took homemade yeast rolls from the oven, she delegated jobs for him like retrieving milk and butter and sour cream that Josie used to create decadent mashed potatoes. Fresh asparagus and gravy rounded out the meal.

Kitty slept through it all, lightly snoring on a thickly padded window seat.

“My mother would be jealous of your skills,” he
admitted after dishing out thirds of roast. Creamy horseradish dipping sauce made his taste buds sing. “At the ranch, she's the only one allowed to prepare meals.”

“What did your wife have to say about that?”

“Actually, she enjoyed it. She was a cowgirl through and through. Loved working cattle with me. Hated being indoors.” Aside from their love of children, the two women couldn't have been more different.

“Oh.” She lowered her gaze to her plate.

“Why would you care? It's not like you and I would ever have a connection that would place you out on the range.”

Paling, she excused herself before making a mad dash toward a hall bathroom.

By the time she returned, some of her color was back, but not all. He'd cleared the table and managed to put most of the food away in the Rubbermaid tubs he'd found in a bottom drawer.

“Thanks,” she said with an awkward wave toward the nearly clean kitchen.

“Sure. No problem.”

She took a Sprite from the fridge, rolling the cool can across her forehead before popping the top.

“You're scaring me,” he admitted, alarmed by the way she clung to the counter edge for support.

Waving away his concern, she said, “I'm fine.”

At least, Josie's doctor had assured her that physically she and the baby were in tip-top condition. During the first trimester, nausea and exhaustion often came with the territory. But it hadn't with Emma. Which made Josie's predicament all the more confusing. On the
one hand, she felt beyond blessed to have been given a second chance at motherhood. On the other, she felt terrified and guilty and shocked. Worse yet, Dallas was an incompetent father.

At least he'd helped with the dishes.

By the time the kitchen was clean, Josie was a nervous wreck. She'd invited Dallas to her home for a very specific reason. One she'd gotten nowhere near broaching.

Mouth dry, she forced breaths, willing her pulse to slow.

No such luck.

Dallas handed her a plate, which, because it was still wet and she was still shaky with nerves, she promptly dropped.

“I'll get it,” Dallas said, already on his knees, plucking five clean-cut pieces from the floor and tossing them in the trash. From an undercabinet dispenser, he took a paper towel, dampening it before running it across the floor. “There you go. Safe for your bare feet and Kitty's.”

“Thanks. I don't know what's wrong with me. I'm usually not so clumsy.”

Back at the sink, washing the gravy pan, he asked, “You ever going to get around to why you're talking to me again?”

“Okay…” Sitting hard on the nearest chair, she sharply exhaled. “You're here for a couple of reasons.”

He turned off the faucet.

Seated beside her, he took her hands in his. “Does this have to do with your husband?”

She shook her head.

“Then what? Out with it, already.”

Standing, she summoned her every shred of courage to say, “Come on. There's something I want to show you.”

 

F
OLLOWING
J
OSIE DOWN
the dimly lit hall, the heavy meal Dallas just inhaled threatened to bolt. What the hell had she been hiding?

She stopped before a closed door.

Tears shone in her brown eyes.

One hand to her chest, she used her other to turn a crystal doorknob. The night was moonless. The room black. She fumbled for the overhead light switch. With the room immersed in a soft, golden glow, Dallas lost all words. The scene was reminiscent of the twins' room. Pretty and pink with piles of stuffed animals and a pintsize table set for young ladies and dolls. A canopy bed, dripping in lace, took center stage along with custom built shelves filled with books and toys and whimsically framed photos. The only thing missing from the enchanted space was the little girl it'd obviously been meant for.

Josie backed into an overstuffed lounge chair, cradling her face in her hands. “Even after four years, the pain feels crushing—like a heart attack no medicine can heal. I wasn't sure if you remembered hearing about the car crash before Hugh's suicide.”

Sighing, he perched beside her. “Vaguely, but again, I never connected it with you. Why, Josie, did you feel you needed to hide something like losing a child from
me? I mean, I know lately, we haven't exactly been close, but…” Her private pain was none of his business, so why did he feel betrayed? As if her having lost her daughter was a fact he should've known?

“It wasn't that simple.” Her expression morphed from grief to all-out rage. “Hugh—he hid an addiction from me. Playing flag football of all things, he tore his rotator cuff. After his surgery, he was supposed to have gotten better, but he was in constant pain. I—I didn't know, but after his prescription pain meds expired, he started buying online. God only knows how many he was taking a day. The night it happened—the accident that took my Emma's life—I had to stay late at school for parent/teacher conferences. I asked Hugh to pick her up from my parents'. On the way home, it started to sleet, and—”

“That's enough,” Dallas said, connecting the awful dots. “Bastard. Not that it excuses his actions, but I can see why your husband did what he did.” What he couldn't understand was Josie keeping all of this from him. She always seemed as if she had everything together, when obviously, her world hadn't been all sunshine and roses.

Sniffling through tears, Josie nodded, then shook her head. “If I'd kept a closer eye on Hugh… If we'd spent more time as a couple. We had such trouble conceiving. Back then, teaching was a job. Emma was my world. We did everything together. I let Hugh become an afterthought. If only I'd—”

“Stop.” He needed time to process all she'd confessed.

Could she have missed warning signs? Though he was hardly in a position to judge, part of him had to wonder how she could have not seen something so horribly broken in a man she'd supposedly loved.

He had to ask, “Is this why the rest of your family moved away? To get a fresh start?”

She nodded. “M-my mother blamed me for what happened to Em and then blamed me again for Hugh. She said horrible things. Called me a pathetic excuse of a mom and wife. As if I hadn't been through enough, her rejection was…unspeakably cruel.”

Dallas's heart would've been made of stone if he hadn't felt for her. The woman had been through hell—twice. But why was she sharing all of this now? What was the point? As far as he was concerned, whatever attraction they might've shared was long gone. Their differences were just too great.

He should've gone to her, wrapped his arms around her or kneaded her shoulders, but his feet felt frozen to the floor.

“All of this must seem out of left field,” she said, wiping her eyes with a tissue she'd taken from a side table, “but in light of what else I have to tell you, I needed you to understand—everything—that makes me who I am today.” Wringing her hands on her lap, she asked, “Remember our night at the bar?”

He damn near choked. “Kinda hard to forget.”

“Yes, well, now it will be doubly so. I'm pregnant.”

“What?” He knew if he hadn't already been sitting, he would have fallen. This couldn't be happening. Not in light of everything else going on with his girls. Dammit,
but he hated himself for being stupid enough to have unprotected sex. For degrading his wife's memory by bringing dishonor on the entire family. Worse still, for putting Josie in an unfathomable position. What the hell was wrong with him? He wasn't eighteen anymore and he sure as hell wasn't in any position to take on a second wife.

“S-say something,” she pleaded, looking on the verge of again being sick.

“I want to, but I'm not sure what.” He stood and paced, but the room was too cramped for the movement to work off much frustration. “Whereas I presume you've had at least a few days to get used to this idea, you might as well have just hit me over the head with a two-by-four.”

Rising, Josie said, “Now that you know, feel free to leave.”

He held out his arms only to slap them against his sides. “What do you want from me? An on-the-spot proposal?”

“No, Dallas. You can relax. I don't expect to marry you—ever.” Marching to the front door, she opened it for him. “But in the same respect, don't you expect to play a role in my baby's life.”

 

“T
HAT'S IT, SWEETIE
,” Natalie soothed, rocking Josie on the foot of her bed while she sobbed, “let it out. I'm sorry I ever pushed that creep on you. I had him all wrong.”

“Y-you didn't do anything. I was the one s-stupid enough to sleep with him.”

“Yeah, but I did go on about how good-looking he was.”

Nodding, Josie mumbled, “But he's not. I hope the baby looks just like me.”

“Of course, it will.” Nat combed her fingers through her friend's hair.

“A-and I never want to see Dallas again.”

“I agree,” Nat said with more rocking. “Whatever it takes.”

“A-and I need ice cream. Chocolate. Lots and lots.”

“Right away.” Gathering her purse from where she'd tossed it on the floor, Natalie was instantly on her feet. “You sit tight and I'll be right back with enough sinful calories to keep you and baby happy for weeks to come.”

 

“N
OT THAT THIS IS SOMETHING
you wanna hear,” Cash said after Dallas had told Wyatt and him his news over beers in the ranch's barn office. “But it wasn't too long ago that you were lecturing me about how I owed it to the Buckhorn name to make an honest woman of Wren.”

“True,” Wyatt said after a swig from his longneck bottle.

“Back off,” Dallas warned. “You both know diddly about this situation.”

“What's to know?” Wyatt asked. He'd rested his feet on the desk, but drew them down, resting his elbows on his knees. “You got Josie pregnant. She seems nice.
Really
nice. Like a small-town kindergarten teacher should. Now how's it going to look when a few months
from now, she starts showing and naming her baby's deadbeat father?”