The Cowboy's Texas Twins

He wasn’t proud of his teenage self, but he didn’t have to be that person anymore. I’m mature now. And well-adjusted. More or less.

To prove it, he climbed out of the truck with a friendly smile on his face, reminding the boys about using their “library voices” as they unbuckled their booster seats.

Just inside the front door of the library, a glass display case caught the twins’ attention. It was full of trains—or, at least, artistic representations of trains. There were paintings and drawings of varying quality, clay sculptures and a colorful model assembled from cardboard. Above the display was a sign announcing that next month’s theme was horses, inviting all the kids of Cupid’s Bow to participate.

He remembered the homemade Christmas cards Miranda used to send him and a framed sketch she’d done of the boys sleeping when they were just babies. “You guys like art projects?”

Tyler nodded enthusiastically. “I like to finger-paint. It’s messy. Red is my favorite color.”

“One time, Mama helped us do an art with sand,” Sam added. “It was real messy.”

“And we played with shaving cream on our art table. It’s squishy. And—”

“Let me guess,” Grayson said. “Messy?”

The boys chorused “yes” amid chuckles. He wasn’t convinced they’d inherited their mother’s artistic sensibility, but they were decidedly pro-mess. He made a mental note to get tarps before attempting any big projects at Aunt Vi’s.

They walked into the library, cool from the humming air conditioner and quiet after the sounds of Main Street. A sense of calm washed over him—until he turned and found himself eye-to-eye with Hadley Lanier.

“Grayson!” She appeared startled, clutching a stack of books against her to keep from dropping them. But then she smiled, her dark eyes as sweet as hot chocolate. “Nice to see you.”

It was a warmer welcome than he deserved, and he grinned back at her. “You, too. Can I, uh, help you with those?” Did he sound like an awkward seventh grader, offering to carry a pretty girl’s books to her locker?

“Sure. I was going to display these on top of the shelves for National Poetry Month.” Passing all but a few of the books over to him, she smiled down at the boys. “Hello, again. I’m Miss Hadley. What kinds of books do you two like to read?”

“Do you have anything with dinosaurs?” Tyler asked. Sam didn’t answer, too busy studying his surroundings.

“We have an entire shelf on dinosaurs. That’s our children’s section.” She pointed to a smaller room, walled in glass and decorated with lots of bright colors. “If you two want to go in there and start looking around, I’ll help you find some dinosaur books in just a moment. Does that sound okay?”

Pausing only long enough to give her a brief nod, Tyler scampered off. Sam hesitated, looking nervously at Grayson.

“I’m going to help Miss Hadley move some books,” Grayson said. “You can stay with me if you want. Or, if you want to go with your brother, you’ll be able to keep an eye on me through the glass. Your choice, buddy.”

The boy swallowed. “You won’t go far?”

“Promise.”

Reassured, Sam turned and followed after his twin.

Grayson felt a tug of pride. The tiny display of independence might not seem like much to someone who didn’t know Sam, but the boy had been understandably clingy in the past few weeks and this was progress.

“You’re good with him,” Hadley said. When he turned to her meet her gaze, her smile became mischievous. “Much better than I would have guessed after the cereal-aisle debacle.”

“Not one of my finer moments. But I hope I’m getting better. They deserve that. This has been so hard for them—their parents, the move. Starting school in the next week or so. I hope they have an easier time at Cupid’s Bow Elementary than—” Was he really about to whine to a beautiful woman about his childhood? Lame. “So, where did you need these books?”

She raised an eyebrow at his abrupt change of subject but didn’t call him on it. “Right over here.”

The shelves in the library weren’t all the same height. Units taller than Hadley lined the walls, but the center was dominated by shorter bookshelves topped with various objects—spotlight collections, winning science-fair projects from the local schools and potted flowers that brought a touch of spring inside.

She led him to a shelf with available space on top, and took a moment to position the books she held before turning to him for a few more.

He passed over the first few without paying much attention, but then a red book cover made him do a double take. “Erotic poems?”

Hadley’s head jerked up. “Shh. This is a library, remember.”

“Sorry. I was caught off guard.”

“By a book? In a library? Yes, what are the odds?” She laughed.

She had a great laugh, he noticed. It trilled out like music, her own personal jingle or theme song.

“These are poems from the 1930s, a part of our literary history, pieces that found beauty and sensuality to celebrate despite difficult times. It’s not like they’re internet porn.”

“So, you’ve read them?”

“I’ve read almost everything in the library,” she said matter-of-factly. “Most of these books were here long before I became head librarian.”

“Now you can read about the Great Wall of China whenever you want.”

She cocked her head, her expression puzzled. “Sure, I guess. My first choice is usually historical suspense. Or romances. And don’t you dare laugh at that,” she said preemptively, as if others had judged her preferences. “I know some people think happy endings are silly, but—”

“Not silly.” His heart twisted as he thought of how much Blaine and Miranda had meant to each other, their dream of growing old together. “Just improbable.”

There was a clattering sound in the background followed by accusatory shouts of “I didn’t do it. You did.” And “Not my fault!”

Crap. Grayson pressed a palm to his forehead. It was the cereal aisle all over again. Apparently, gravity was no friend of five-year-olds. “I’d better go clean up whatever they just destroyed. Please don’t ban us from the library,” he implored over his shoulder.

The boys met him in the doorway, their eyes wide. “It was a accident,” Sam said. “I just wanted to see the octopus.”

A large orange stuffed animal was on the ground, its eight legs in the air as if reaching for help. It was surrounded by children’s books that had no doubt been on display until Sam had reached for the octopus and knocked everything down.

“Thanks for the help,” Hadley said cheerfully. “The children’s room was next on my list. I was going to swap out the marine-life books for books about sports. Of course, I normally put books carefully back on the shelf instead of dumping them on the floor, but to be fair, your way was quicker.”

Sam and Tyler exchanged shocked glances.

“So we’re not in trouble?” Tyler asked.

“Accidents happen.” Hadley kneeled down to grab the octopus. “Just try to be careful with the books you take home. And never, ever mark in them with crayons or pens, okay?” After extracting that solemn promise, she rose. “All right...dinosaur time!”

She took each twin by the hand, and a few minutes later, each of the boys held a nonfiction picture book about dinosaurs.

“Oh, and this one,” Hadley said. “It’s about a dinosaur who has to learn to be more careful because he’s so big he knocks things over and steps on them without meaning to. Like a couple of junior T. rexes I know.”

Tyler laughed outright, then made a rawr noise at her; even Sam smiled shyly.

They all headed back to the circulation desk so Grayson could sign up for a library card, and the boys asked if they could look at the trains again while they were waiting. Since it was within his sight line, Grayson agreed. “Put your hands in your pockets, though,” he suggested. “So that you don’t accidentally leave any fingerprints on the glass.” Or shatter it somehow.

Hadley handed him his new card and the books. “They’re due in a week, but you can renew online if you want to keep them longer. Anything else I can do for you?”