Temporary Rancher

“Do we get to go to that camp tomorrow?” Roxanna asked as Riley plugged in their night-light.

“Tomorrow’s Sunday, so not until the day after.”

She had made arrangements before they’d left Cooper for the girls to attend a summer day camp that would keep them busy while she worked—movies, arts and crafts, games. The woman she’d spoken to on the phone had agreed to take the twins even though it was last minute, but Riley wished she’d had more time to check out the camp more thoroughly. It was barely within their budget, and suppose the girls didn’t like it? Well, she’d have to cross that bridge if she came to it.

The twins scooted into bed. Wendy glanced up only once at the towel-covered buffalo head, and Roxanna, in a show of unexpected sisterly love, promised to hold her hand all night. “If it falls down on us, don’t worry,” she said solemnly, snuggling under the covers until Riley could barely see her face. “I’ll pull you out.”

Wendy’s eyes went huge. The possibility of being crushed hadn’t occurred to her.

Riley bent forward to plant kisses along her daughter’s brow and move aside stray bangs. “It’s not going to fall down. It’s probably been up there for a hundred years.”

“What do buffalos eat?” Wendy asked.

“Not people,” Roxanna answered. “Unless they’re starving.”

“Not people, period,” Riley said firmly, and kissed the girls good-night, giving them an extra ration of snuggling hugs.

A rocking chair made out of cattle horns and cow hair sat next to the bed. After snapping on the night-light, Riley settled into it. Since this was a strange, new place—big emphasis on the strange—she wanted to make sure her daughters didn’t have difficulty falling asleep.

They tossed and turned a few times, fussed with one another over bed space, then seemed to accept that nothing could harm them, especially with their mom in the room to stand guard.

Within ten minutes Riley heard their soft, slow breathing. The sound always made her feel oddly content. Really, they were her own little miracles, these two. They were the most important part of her life and the only part of her old life she had wanted to hold on to. After some initial stubbornness, Brad had been willing to turn them loose with embarrassing ease. She would never forgive him for that, even though she’d been shaking with relief to have full custody.

In return she’d had to hand over her share of their ranch and everything in it.

Exhausted, Riley cocked her head to rest her cheek against her fist. She ought to make up the couch. Go to bed, her weary brain ordered. But it felt so good to just sit and drift for a while, to put all her worries in the basement of her mind. It was so hard to plow your way through a life that offered no guarantees about anything.

She heard the air-conditioning kick on, and knew she should get up and boost the thermostat. The shorty pajamas she wore would offer little warmth if the unit ran all night. But under the veil-like prelude to sleep, she couldn’t seem to manage it. Really, who would have guessed that a chair made out of cattle horns could be so comfortable?

A SCREAM WOKE HER. High-pitched, terrified and familiar.

Wendy.

Riley’s eyes flashed open, then fought against the bright sunlight streaming through the bedroom window. She shot out of the chair, her breathing tight, her heart missing beats. Both her daughters were awake. Roxanna was struggling with the covers, while Wendy, her blond hair falling into her face, jumped off the bed and threw herself against her mother’s legs. Her eyes were wide and panic-stricken.

Riley caught Wendy by the shoulders. “What is it, honey?” she asked softly. “Did you have a bad dream?”

Her daughter pointed toward the buffalo head. “It moved, Mom! It’s coming down to get us!”

“It can’t come get us, dummy,” Roxanna said in a grumpy voice. “It doesn’t have feet anymore.”

“Sweetie,” Riley crooned gently, rubbing her hands up and down her daughter’s slim back. “It’s not going to hurt you.”

“No, Mom. Look!” Wendy said. “See what it did?”

The girl snatched up the bath towel they had used to hide the buffalo head. Sure enough, when Riley glanced up at the wall, the creature was no longer covered. And from this angle, he did look pretty mad.

“He threw it over my face,” Wendy exclaimed, tears sparkling in her eyes.

“Wendy. The towel must have slipped loose when the air-conditioning kicked on.”

“No, really! He tried to smother me in my sleep!”

“Oh, brother,” Roxanna muttered, sitting up in bed to scratch her head.

“Rox, be quiet,” Riley said with a twinge of frustration.

Since she’d spent those days in the hospital last year, Wendy had become clingy and fearful. She also tended to be a bit paranoid. Everything from the tiniest ant on the sidewalk to Bigfoot was personally out to get her. Riley didn’t have a clue how to fix it.

She sat on the bed hugging Wendy tightly, and stared up at the buffalo. Enough was enough. The damned thing was coming down.

Trying to lighten the mood, Riley yanked up her pajama bottoms and stood on the mattress. “All right, varmint,” she told the head. “This apartment isn’t big enough for the both of us.”

With a giggle, Rox bounced to her feet, nearly sending Riley off the side of the bed. Wendy had planted herself in one corner, waiting to see how her mother would save the day.

Now that she was standing, Riley was nearly eye-to-eye with the thing, and she could almost feel sorry for it. Its dark hair was matted and dusty. A huge chunk had been taken out of its left ear. She couldn’t help wondering if that had happened before or after it had met its tragic end. But it still had to go.

She reached up and grabbed a horn in each hand, wiggling the head to see if there was any give. There wasn’t. Whoever had mounted it up there had intended it to stay secure through a tornado.

Riley tugged some more, every which way she could think of. “Come on,” she groaned between clenched teeth. “Give it up. Come down from there.”

“Don’t touch it!” Wendy squealed from behind her, but there was a giggle in her voice.

“Go, Mom!” Roxanna encouraged. “You’re like the Incredible Hulk.”

The mounting plaque didn’t budge. The buffalo looked bored. All Riley succeeded in doing was breaking a fingernail. She blew hair out of her eyes and redoubled her efforts.

“No one scares my kids, you hear me?” she threatened. “Don’t make me get my chainsaw.”

Roxanna, bouncing on the bed, laughed at that.

Poor Wendy gasped, but at least she seemed caught up in this crazy new adventure. “You’re making it mad. What if it tries to eat us?”

Riley might have refuted that possibility, but she didn’t get the chance. From the doorway of the bedroom, a male voice said, “I’m pretty sure the buffalo is a vegetarian.”

This time, all three of them screamed.

CHAPTER THREE

WHATEVER QUINTIN HAD thought he would run up against when he’d heard that scream, it hadn’t been three pajama-clad females in a face-off with a stuffed buffalo head.

Returning from the trip to Dallas with five Dutch Warmbloods in his thirteen-horse trailer, he’d seen the muddy blue SUV parked close to the horse barn. He’d assumed it belonged to Riley Palmer.

But now, having let himself into the manager’s apartment with his spare key, he didn’t know what the hell was going on.

He’d found a woman, standing with her back to him, tussling with the buffalo head mounted above the bed. Two children—little girls—were cheering her on, and all three females were so intent on their mission that they were unaware of his presence. He blinked in surprise. It wasn’t every day you ran into a woman trying to go three rounds with a buffalo head, accompanied by her own small cheering section.

But he’d expected a man. One man only. Riley Palmer. This was definitely not that man.