“This baby kicking your butt?” Shelby asked when class was over. “Last week you looked ready for Swan Lake auditions. This week, more like an off-off-Broadway version of Duck Lake.”
“Ha-ha.” Josie knew her friend was teasing, but the words stung all the same. Daubing her sweating chest and forehead with a towel, she admitted, “Last night, I went with Dallas and the twins to the Halloween Festival. On the surface, with the girls, we kept things civil, but an underlying tension ruined the whole night. It’s no secret I think he’s a horrible father, but what he doesn’t get is that beyond that, I deeply resented him for still having his girls, yet botching his duties toward them. Now that I’m pregnant, I feel almost traitorous to Em’s memory, like I’m trying to replace her. And along with my second chance, I find myself wondering if Dallas deserves the same. Only we’ve said such ugly things to each other, I’m not sure if we’ll ever be able to take them back. Let alone regain trust.”
“Slow down,” her friend advised while Josie took off her toe shoes and tucked them into her dance bag. “Everyone at school views you as the most levelheaded, sane one of our bunch. With a baby on the way, the last thing you need is stress. Obviously, if you and Dallas were once hot enough for each other to make this baby, there has to be at least part of a foundation left for you to start building a new friendship.”
“I know.” Josie slipped on her coat over her leotard and crammed swollen feet into fleece-lined Crocs. “And for the baby’s sake, I’m willing to see if I might’ve judged Dallas too harshly. But what if he doesn’t feel the same?”
“JOSIE,” DALLAS’S MOTHER said Sunday afternoon, greeting her at the ranch house’s front door with a warm smile. “It’s so nice to see you again. The girls talk of you all the time.”
“In a good way I hope,” Josie asked with a cautious smile.
“The best.” Taking her coat, the older woman then led her toward a big country kitchen fragrant with lasagna. “I can’t tell you how pleased I was when Dallas asked if it would be all right for you to join us for Sunday supper.”
“Yes, well…” Josie’s stomach lurched. “I was flattered by the invitation.”
Friday, when picking the girls up from school, Dallas had confessed his brothers knew she was pregnant, but not his mom. He’d asked her to join him in presenting a united front that they were firm in their decision not to marry, but to jointly raise their son or daughter.
Funny thing is, she had never really agreed to any of that—just took it all in while Dallas outlined his plan as if raising their child meant no more than any ordinary business transaction.
“My son has been acting strangely.” Chopping tomatoes for a salad, she asked, “Any chance you know why?”
The back door burst open and in dashed two pink-cheeked energy balls, running to her for hugs. “Miss Griffin!”
While returning their embraces, Josie looked up to see Dallas in all his cowboy glory. No matter their differences, her instinctual, physical attraction to the man was undeniable. Over faded jeans and dusty boots, he wore a long duster, leather work gloves and his hat. His whisker-stubbled cheeks were ruddy from the cold, and when he flashed a cautious smile, his blue eyes shone like the promise of spring. Granted, it might be a long time coming, but in the real sense and metaphorically, she indulged in cautious hope.
“Dinner smells delicious,” he said to his mom. To Josie, he said, “Glad you could make it.”
“Grandma,” Bonnie said, hopping onto a counter bar stool, “I’m hungry. Can I have cookies?”
“No. Dinner’s almost ready.”
“But I’m hungry now,” the girl whined.
“Bonnie…” Dallas warned with a sternness to his tone Josie had never before heard. “How about you and your sister go get Uncle Cash, Robin and Aunt Wren.”
“Okay…” Chin drooping, Bonnie held out her hand to Betsy. “Come on, let’s go.”
Wearing oven mitts, Mrs. Buckhorn noted, “Josie, ever think you’d see the day when Bonnie actually did what she was told with only a minimum of fuss?”
“When it comes to my students, I confess to being an eternal optimist. Both girls are performing much better in class.”
Dallas cleared his throat. “While we’re on the subject of kids, Mom, Josie and I find ourselves in a bit of a jam, and—”
“Save it,” the eldest Buckhorn snapped to her son, taking the lasagna from the over. “It’s no secret Josie’s carrying your child. The news is all over town. It’s my hope that on the afternoon agenda is damage control? I’ll spare you both the lecture on birth control and go straight into asking about the wedding. Because as I’ve already proven with Cash, there will be a wedding. No grandson or granddaughter of mine will be born without legally taking our name.”
More than anything, Josie longed to run off to the nearest bathroom and hide, but that wouldn’t solve anything. “Mrs. Buckhorn, this isn’t my first time to the so called rodeo and I don’t have the stomach for weathering a second failed relationship.”
“Weed Gulch isn’t exactly the best place for keeping secrets,” Georgina said while buttering French bread, “and I’m also well aware of your past. Trust me, my heart goes out to you for your loss, but that doesn’t in any way give you the right to bring my grandchild into the world on a hotbed of scandal. You’re a kindergarten teacher, for heaven’s sake. What sort of example does it set for our young people when supposed role models are running around town unwed and pregnant?”
“Mom,” Dallas said, “that’s enough. Josie and I are adults, well aware of the ramifications of our actions.”
“Ramify this, Mr. Fancy Words, if I have to drag you two down to the courthouse with my own bare hands, you will be married by the time this baby is born.”
Chapter Thirteen
“Sorry about all of that,” Dallas said to Josie after the longest afternoon on record. In waning sunlight, they stood next to her car. “My mom can be a bit overbearing.”
“A bit?” Josie laughed. The light breeze caught her curls, floating them over her face. In that moment, whatever spark had first physically attracted him to her returned tenfold. But no matter how much he wouldn’t mind tucking her crazy hair behind her ears, then kissing her until the sun set, he couldn’t ignore the bad blood also still simmering between them. “I’m actually a little scared. She does understand that just because the town gossipmongers feel marriage is in our future, it’s us who will ultimately decide, right?”
Hands in his pockets both to ward off the chill and to keep from drawing Josie into a reassuring hug, he said, “We’ll wait her out. Eventually, she’ll get the hint that we control our lives—not her. Trust me, by the time the baby’s born, she’ll love him or her all the same.”
Josie didn’t look so sure. “I won’t be pressured into anything I’m not ready for.”
“You think I would? And lest you’ve forgotten, before you accused me of being the worst father ever, we used to actually get along. You’re the one who started all of our troubles. And for the record, you were also the one spurring us into…” he moved his hands at his hips “…you know.”
“That’s ridiculous.” She raised her chin. “That night was a mutual mistake. You’re certifiable,” she declared, climbing into her car.
“Ditto.”
Watching her drive off until the dust cloud out on the main road faded into rolling hills of winter wheat, Dallas couldn’t hide a smile. The woman was infuriating, insulting and downright aggravating. At the same time, she raised his blood pressure to a degree he should’ve found alarming, but was actually more in the realm of invigorating.
“BONNIE,” DALLAS SAID to his daughter after Thanksgiving dinner had been put away. “No matter how many times you ask, my answer’s still the same. You’re not riding Cookie in this weather.”
“But why?”
“Because sleet isn’t good for either of you.”
Bonnie added hopping to her whines. “I wanna ride my pony.”
<
br /> “She really does,” Betsy pointed out.
Josie remained on the fringe of the conversation, drying the turkey roasting pan.
Though Natalie had invited Josie to share the holiday with her family, Josie had thought it best she try making amends with Dallas’s mother. Stress was unhealthy for the baby, and no matter how much she wished for the anonymity of living in a giant city where no one gave a flip what she did, the reality of her life was that people were already talking and their whispers hurt.
“You seem awfully quiet.” Dallas’s sister-in-law Wren nudged Josie’s shoulder. “Let me guess, either you have indigestion from too much giblet gravy or you’re letting Georgina under your skin.”
Wincing, Josie confessed, “I suffer from a little of both.”
Forcing a deep breath, Wren said, “Feel free to tell me to butt out, but if you’d like to talk, it wasn’t too long ago Cash and I faced the same kind of heat.”
“How did you manage?” Josie asked, glad for any advice. “Aside from, well, you know—” she reddened “—Dallas and I are practically strangers. I can’t even imagine getting married again. Then there’s Dallas himself. Look at him fighting with Bonnie like he’s no more mature than her.”
“You might want to look again. Since meeting you, he will never admit it, but he’s worked hard to get on the right course with his girls.”
Dallas had slipped on his duster and now helped Bonnie with her puffy down coat. After tugging on her pink hat, he said, “We’ll be right back.”
“Where are you going?” Josie asked.
His stare locked with hers. Almost as if he wanted this moment to be about just them, but didn’t know how to make it happen. “Bonnie and I had a talk. She’s worried Cookie feels bad that she didn’t want to ride him on Thanksgiving.”
“Yeah,” Bonnie chimed in, “but Daddy said if we go visit him and bring him a carrot or apple, he’ll still be happy even though he didn’t get to ride.”
“We compromised,” Dallas said with an intensity that left Josie wondering if he’d eavesdropped on her and Wren’s conversation.
“I’m glad.” When he took both girls by their hands, Josie flashed Dallas a genuine smile. When he returned one of his own, her traitorous stomach flip-flopped. Had she misjudged him? Maybe he wasn’t such an awful father, after all?
WITH BETSY ON HER LAP and Bonnie pressed against her with wide-eyed concern, Dallas watched on from just outside the otherwise deserted classroom as Josie said, “Sweetie, I’m sure Thomas didn’t mean it. Maybe he’s even jealous that you lost a better tooth than him?”
“You think?” Betsy asked.
“He was real mad when my front tooth fell out,” Bonnie assured. “Now that yours is out, too, you’re gonna be so rich when the Tooth Fairy comes.”
Sniffling, Betsy said, “He still didn’t have to call me donkey girl.”
“I know,” Josie assured, smoothing his daughter’s long, brown hair. “And if you think about it, he’s a silly boy, anyway, because everyone knows donkeys have two gorgeous front teeth.”
Eyes wide and looking stricken, Betsy asked, “Does that mean I’m not gorgeous?”
Laughing, giving his daughter an extra squeeze, Josie promised, “You and your sister are the most gorgeous princesses ever. Once Thomas gets a little older, he’d be lucky to have you for a girlfriend.”
“Eeuw!” both girls shouted with shrieking giggles.
“I hate boys,” Bonnie said.
“Me, too.” Betsy nodded.
“What about me?” Dallas asked past the knot in his throat.
“You’re not a boy,” Betsy giggled. “You’re a daddy!”
“Oh, well in that case—” he snatched her from Josie’s lap to tickle “—does that mean you’ll go on a date with me to get cheeseburgers?”
“Yeah!” Bonnie did her happy dance.
Betsy kissed his cheek. “Can Miss Griffin come?”
“Depends,” he said, working to ignore the quickening of his pulse, “did you ask if she wants to go?”
“Do you?” Betsy asked.
Josie’s teary-eyed smile rocked him to his core. “I’d love to have cheeseburgers with you—but only if we have onion rings, too.”
“Eeeuw,” Bonnie said, accompanying Josie to her desk while she grabbed her purse and coat, “I hate those, but Daddy and Uncle Wyatt eat them all the time and then Grandma says they have smelly unjun breath.”
TWO WEEKS BEFORE Christmas, Natalie sat on Josie’s floor in front of a crackling fire. In the winter, they replaced Saturday morning yard sales with scrapbooking and while Nat worked on documenting her summer Grand Canyon rafting trip, Josie put the final touches on matching minibooks for Dallas’s girls.
While Josie changed the TV channel to a home makeover show, Natalie said, “You’re getting awfully cozy with the Buckhorn clan. Thought you despised Dallas.”
“I do—did. Guess he’s growing on me. No doubt because his son or daughter’s growing in me.”
“Rethinking your antimarriage stance?”
“Nope.” Back at the card table holding her masterpieces, Josie added snapshots she’d taken of the girls at the Halloween festival, tacking mini foam candy corns to each corner. “For the moment, Dallas and I are back to being friends. That’s enough. And the twins are finally settling in. What’s it going to do to them if all of a sudden they find out their teacher is carrying their little brother or sister? Talk about freaking them out.”
“True.” Nat pressed twinkling star stickers over a nighttime campfire shot. “But you’re a smart cookie, Josie. So are Dallas’s girls. Once you start showing, there are going to be questions you can no longer avoid. Now you’re only dealing with the fallout from old biddy gossips. What happens when our school principal and the PTA find out? Dallas’s mom was right in that for all of Weed Gulch’s so-called advances like the new grocery store and coffeehouse, we still live in a societal vacuum where folks like their pregnant women married.”
“Way to ruin an otherwise perfect morning.” Josie abandoned her friend in favor of making a run to the kitchen for cocoa with plenty of marshmallows. While waiting for the milk to warm, she stared out the window at the gray day. The only spot of color in the otherwise brown yard was a cardinal looking for food in the empty feeder.
Fear and self-doubt suddenly consumed her.
She couldn’t even manage caring for her backyard songbirds; how was she supposed to care for this new baby all on her own? Worse yet, old doubts taunted her with deep-seated fears at the possibility of what had happened with Emma happening all over again. What if that night Josie had been able to prevent Hugh from driving? What if instead of being the good mother she’d thought, in reality, she’d been an accessory to her beautiful daughter’s death?
“DADDY, PUH-LEAZE CAN WE SIT on Santa’s lap?” Though Bonnie was the one begging, each girl had a deathgrip on his arms. The Saturday before Christmas, Tulsa’s Woodland Hills Mall was a mob scene. Santa was apparently a popular guy as the line to visit his workshop wound all the way from JC Penney to Macy’s.
“Quit,” Dallas barked. “With all the shopping we still have to do, the wait is too long. Besides, if you two pull on me much harder, my arms are going to fall off.”
Betsy wasn’t buying it. “Miss Griffin, is that true?”
“’Fraid so,” she said with a deadpan expression he’d have to thank her for later. “When you’re in second grade, you’ll learn all about how you have to be careful not to pull fingers, toes or arms too hard. It can be a real problem.”
“Whoa…” Wide-eyed, Betsy cupped her hands to Bonnie’s ear.
Bonnie whispered back before asking, “If we can’t visit Santa, can we have ice cream for lunch?”
Sounded good to him, but lately, whenever he was around Josie, Dallas found himself hyperaware of making the right parental decisions. Her doubting his abilities still irked him and if it was the last thing he did, he’d make her eat her words. He was a g
ood father. Getting better every day. Did he feel one hundred percent confident he was doing the sort of job that would’ve made Bobbie Jo proud? Not even close. But for the moment, he craved Josie’s approval.
“Tell you what,” Dallas offered, “how about we have some nice salads. Then maybe fruit for dessert?”
Both girls hung their heads in pouts.
“You know,” Josie said, “since it is almost Christmas, it might be a fun tradition to start something silly like rewarding ourselves for being good shoppers by eating an equally silly lunch like nothing but cookies or ice cream.”
Dallas argued, “What about the girls getting proper nutritional value?”
Kneeling to give Bonnie and Betsy winks, she said, “That’s why God made vitamins, right?”
With both twins smiling, they trekked off to Dillard’s to find a gift for Dallas’s mother. The jury was still out on what he thought of Josie overriding his healthy lunch plan, but considering he was also in the mood for junk, he’d let it slide.
“Thanks for doing this with me,” he said to Josie, wishing he wasn’t loaded like a pack mule with packages. “As you can tell, I need help. Especially with Mom. I always end up getting her a gadget she secretly donates to the annual church yard sale.”
The housewares section was not only overwhelming, but dull. China, sheets and pillows. None of which—as much as Dallas loved his mother—he gave a flip about.
“If you check the oil on my car,” Josie offered with a playful wink, “I’ll tell you what your mom told me she wants.”
Grinning, he said, “Done.” After trailing her toward sparkling crystal, feeling like the proverbial bull in a china shop, he asked, “Where are the girls?”
Josie nodded toward a bed display where Betsy and Bonnie were pretending to sleep.
“Perfect. With any luck, they’ll stay right there until we’re done.”
The Rancher's Twin Troubles Page 12