The Rancher's Twin Troubles

“I see you, squirrel.” He didn’t look the least bit disturbed. “Now, before you give your teacher a heart attack, how about you two scramble down from there and into the truck bed.”

“Do we have to?” Bonnie asked. “I thought you said it was good for us to climb trees?”

“It is, but that’s at home. My guess is that around here, shimmying up things taller than you breaks more than a few rules.” Wearing faded jeans, weathered boots, a red plaid Western shirt and his trademark hat, the man looked nothing like a father. More like a cowboy straight off the range.

Natalie leaned over and whispered, “He’s so handsome it hurts to look at him.”

“Hush,” Josie snapped. “This is a serious situa—”

Before she could finish, the girls had scurried down the tree and into the truck bed. Legs rubbery with relief, Josie finally dared to breathe.

“See?” Hat in hand, Dallas sauntered over. His walk was slow and sexy. “My girls are expert climbers. I don’t even know why you called.”

Stunned by his cavalier attitude, she wasn’t sure what to say. “Do you realize that if either of your girls had fallen from that height, they could’ve been seriously injured?” Focusing on maintaining a professional demeanor, Josie folded her arms and adopted her best stern-teacher expression.

“Do you realize my angels have been climbing trees practically since they could walk? I’ve taught them to look out for weak branches and to always plan a safe path down.” Checking his truck to find the girls surrounded by their friends, he added, “I’ve done some of my best thinking in an old oak—at least back when I was a teen.”

Shaking her head, she struggled for the right words. “You have to understand that at school, there has to be a certain order to our days. There are procedures and rules to follow—not just for safety, but for learning. By condoning your daughters’ actions, you’ve essentially told every student out here that disobeying my rules and those of the other teachers is not only perfectly okay, but heroic.”

“Aren’t you exaggerating just a tad?” When he held his thumb and forefingers together, he winked. Despite the fact that he was handsome enough to make her swoon, she held her ground. The man was impossible and he brought out the worst in her. She was never this much of a shrew. But she’d also never encountered someone quite so blind. As young as the twins were, now was the time to temper them. Not in their teens when they were already lost.

“No, sir,” she said, standing her ground. “I don’t believe I am.”

“Then where does that leave us?”

Us? She rationally knew he meant their parent/ teacher relationship, but the way he’d slapped his hat back on his head, hooking his thumbs into his back pockets had her distracted. What was wrong with her? Why was it that whenever she came within five feet of him her mind turned to mush and her body fairly hummed? She was finished with men, so why wouldn’t her body obey?

“Um…” Josie cleared her throat. “Perhaps you might want to spend time in the classroom with the girls. You’d be able to see what’s expected of them, and then pass along the message.”

Blanching, he said, “Me? Back in school? No, thanks. Tell you what I will do, though. The girls and I will have a nice, long talk about no more recess tree climbing.”

“I’d appreciate it,” Josie said, unsure what to do with her hands.

Thankfully, seeing how most of her class had joined the twins in the bed of Dallas’s truck, she had more pressing matters than the study of how his hat brim’s shadow darkened his eyes.

“MOM,” DALLAS SAID THAT NIGHT, chopping an onion for her famous spaghetti sauce, “I swear that woman’s going to drive me off the deep end.”

Georgina Buckhorn sighed. “How can you be intimidated by a scrap of a kindergarten teacher?”

“Who said I was intimidated?” Dallas brought the knife down especially hard on the onion. The clap of metal hitting the wooden cutting board echoed in the big country kitchen. “She annoys me, that’s all.”

“Because she speaks the truth and you don’t want to hear it?” Her back to him, she took pasta from an upper shelf. She was a tall woman made all the more imposing by the top knot she’d formed with her long silver hair. Once upon a time, before Dallas lost Bobbie Jo, his mother’s words had been gold. Now, Dallas resented her for getting into his parenting business. It wasn’t that they didn’t get along, but where the girls were concerned, they no longer shared the same values.

She always nagged him about the twins needing more discipline, but to his way of thinking, wasn’t losing their mother enough? Bobbie Jo had died giving them life. Her last whispered words had been for him to put his love for her into their babies. By God, every day since, that was exactly what he’d done.

Bonnie and Betsy were his world and no one—not his mom and certainly not their teacher—was going to tell him he was a bad parent when his life was dedicated to their happiness.

“Dallas,” his mother said, dropping pasta into a pot of already boiling water on the industrial-size stove, “this house is big enough that we can generally keep to our own business, but this is one matter on which I refuse to bend. Sunday night, I caught Betsy drawing all over her bathroom mirror with lipstick. My brand-new Chanel lipstick I bought last time we were in Tulsa. When I asked her to help clean the mess, she crossed her arms, raised her chin and flat out told me, ‘no.’ Now, does that sound reasonable to you?”

After dumping diced onions into a pan filled with Italian sausage, he took the cutting board and knife to the sink, running them both under water.

“Ignore me all you want, but deep down, you know I’m right.” Behind him, her hand on his shoulder, she added, “A large part of being a good parent is sometimes being the bad guy. You have to set boundaries. Just like your father and I did with you and your brothers.”

“That’s different. We were all hell on horseback.”

She snorted. “Like your girls are any different because they’re only riding the ponies you gave them for Christmas?”

“They love those cuties.” He bristled. “Ponies topped the twins’ Santa lists.”

“Doesn’t make it right.” She stirred the meat and onions that’d started to sizzle above a gas flame. “Clint Eastwood topped my wish list, but you don’t see me out gallivanting, do you?”

“You’re impossible.” His back turned, he took his work coat from the peg mounted alongside the back door. “I’m going to check the cattle.”

“Mark my words, Dallas Buckhorn, you might temporarily hide from this situation, but sooner or later you have to deal with your rambunctious girls.”

“GOT IT! AND IT ONLY TOOK ten strokes.” Friday evening, on hole seven of Potter’s Putt-Putt, Natalie performed a little dance that revealed she may have had one too many beers. It was the monthly ladies’ night and judging by the slew of high scores, none of the foursome would give the LPGA a run for their money any time soon.

First grade teacher, Shelby Foster, pushed the counselor aside. “Let me show you how a professional does it…”

“Professional what?” Cami Vettle, the school secretary teased in a raunchy tone.

For the first time in what felt like weeks, Josie truly laughed and it felt not only good, but long overdue. Until just now, she hadn’t realized how much stress she’d been under. She’d always loved her job. As a general rule, kindergarteners were a lovable, trouble-free bunch. Oh, sure, she’d dealt with plenty of mischief, but nothing as regular and confounding as the stunts of Betsy and Bonnie Buckhorn.

“You all right?” Natalie asked while waiting for the other women to take their turns.

“Sure,” Josie said, swirling her plastic cup of beer. “Why wouldn’t I be?” White lights decorated the course’s trees. With temperatures in the seventies, it felt as if fall had finally arrived. Shrieks of laughter mingled with top-forty music blaring from loudspeakers. The mouthwatering scent of the snack bar’s trademark barbecue normally would have her stomach growling. Lately, though, she’d been so consumed with dreaming up a delicate way to manage the twins that she forgot to eat.

“You seem awfully quiet. Man trouble?” Tipsy, Natalie leaned on Josie’s shoulder. Beer mingled with her pretty floral perfume, again causing Josie’s lips to curve into a smile.

“Oh, sure. As you full well know, I haven’t been with a man since Lyle, and he was a disaster.”

“Only because you didn’t put an ounce of effort into the relationship. It’s been four years since Hugh died. He wouldn’t want you to be lonely.”

Then why had he left her?

“Who said I am?” Josie swigged her beer. “And who are you to talk? When’s the last time you went on a date?”

“Two weeks ago, thank you very much.”

“Your turn,” Cami said to Josie, writing down her score. “What are you two gossiping about?”

“Nat, here, says she had a date.” Josie centered the ball on the putting mat before giving it a swat. It landed between a giant plaster frog and a rubber lily pad. “You believe her?”

“Absolutely. It was with the UPS man. I witnessed him asking her in the front office.”

“Impressive…” Josie’s shot landed her ball ten feet from the moat’s dragon. Sighing, she stepped over a second lily pad to set up for stroke three.

“Kind of like Betsy and Bonnie’s dad. Whew.” Cheeks flushed, Cami fanned herself with the scorecard. “He’s gorgeous.”