The Twins' Family Christmas (Redemption Ranch Book 2)

by Lee Tobin McClain

  Suddenly, that didn’t feel exciting and adventurous, but lonely.

  She shoved her arms into her coat and gathered her bags. Carson had gone back into the kitchen area, washing dishes. The girls were whispering up in the loft.

  “I’m taking off, girls,” she called up to them. “Have a fun rest of the day.”

  Carson wiped his hands on a dish towel and took a few steps toward her. “Thank you so much for coming over and doing this for us,” he said. “I never have enough pictures of myself with the girls. It was a really thoughtful gift for Penny to think of, and kind of you to do.”

  “I’ll get you proofs as soon as I’ve taken a look at them.” She wanted to touch them up, and maybe, just maybe, she was hanging on to a shred of hope of seeing the little family again.

  The girls came clattering down the ladder, practically tumbling over each other, smiles creasing their faces. “We have an idea,” Sunny said.

  “Uh-oh,” Carson said, rolling his eyes, but smiling at the same time. “Sounds like trouble. What’s your idea?”

  Both girls turned to Lily, holding hands. They walked up to her, close, and looked up, their faces sweet and engaging. Then Sunny looked over at Skye. “Ready?”

  Skye nodded.

  Both girls took deep breaths and then turned to Lily and recited: “Will you be our new mommy?”

  Chapter Eight

  You had one job to do: counsel a troubled young woman. And instead, you kissed her.

  And now your girls want her to be their mommy.

  Later the same day, Carson walked away from Long John’s cabin toward the barn where the dogs were housed. Long John had been happy to have the twins visit for a little while. And Carson had been glad for them to focus on someone other than Lily.

  Even now, two hours after that awkward moment when the girls had asked Lily to be their mother, he was beating himself up.

  Why had he let their relationship with Lily go so far?

  He knew why, though: because in some ways, Lily was perfect for them. She was so sweet, kind, good with the girls. She was beautiful, innocently attracting Carson’s interest without even a hint of provocative clothing or behavior.

  Nonetheless, she was hiding things about Pam, and Pam’s death.

  And in the end, a woman like Lily would never go for a man like him. She’d started to back away almost the moment after he’d kissed her.

  Sure, being in the mountains was fun for now, an adventure to a woman raised in the flatlands, but that would go stale soon. He’d seen it happen with Pam.

  And when she got tired of this place, of him, of the girls, she’d leave. Well, that was her right. But what he had to do was keep a distance, avoid building the connection any further.

  The potential for hurt was so great. His girls didn’t need another loss in their lives.

  He didn’t need it, either.

  He had to cut this relationship with Lily off, fast. A little pinch now was better than a huge, painful break later.

  A sharp CHEW-EE, CHEW-EE sounded from a fence post, a bright-eyed songbird seeming to call Carson away from his own thoughts and into the world of nature. Obedient, Carson looked out over the wide-flung fields to the Sangre de Cristos, white against the sky’s intense blue.

  He sent up a prayer of thanks for the beauty of this place and for being able to stay here over Christmas with his girls.

  He needed to think more about his blessings and less about Lily.

  Christmases had been simpler when he’d been married and the twins had been small. The girls hadn’t had difficult expectations to fulfill, as they had this Christmas.

  Man, he’d screwed up. They’d really, really wanted a dog.

  If they’d had a mother, maybe she would have seen that and helped him figure out how to manage it. As it was, he’d been busy and scrambling and not paying enough attention, obviously. Single parenting was an ongoing challenge.

  But had it really been that much easier when Pam was here?

  When he remembered the two of them together at Christmas, his first thought was of her discontent. She’d always wished for parties and shows and bright lights, things that he, a country pastor, hadn’t been able to provide. Even before the twins had been born, he hadn’t been able to take some fancy trip at Christmas as she’d wanted to. One, because he couldn’t afford it, and two, because he had to preach on Christmas Eve.

  And three, honestly, because he didn’t want it. Didn’t want to get on a plane to go somewhere else and party the season away. He’d preferred to stay at home.

  Boring, Pam would say.

  Man, had they been ill-suited.

  And it had contributed to Pam’s problems, her increasing unhappiness. Surely he, trained in pastoral counseling, should have been able to help his own wife. But he hadn’t. Hadn’t realized how serious the situation was getting. Hadn’t known how to stop the flood of her angry emotions and moods.

  Hadn’t been able to stop her from running away from him and the girls, albeit in the guise of military obligations.

  He reached the kennels at the same time a truck pulled in and parked. Jack DeMoise jumped out, then opened the rear door to extract his year-old son.

  “Thanks for coming up on the day after Christmas,” Carson said to the veterinarian.

  Jack shrugged. “Nothing else to do. Glad you were here to open the place up for me. When the ranch volunteers let me know that old Bella was having trouble, I wasn’t sure how I’d get into the barn to see her.”

  Carson opened the door and they walked inside to the sound of loud barking, greetings from a plethora of dogs who all could use more attention than they normally got.

  “Mind holding Sammy?” Jack asked.

  Carson reached out and took the one-year-old into his arms, cuddling him close. Sammy’s back was stiff and arched, his tiny hands on his ears.

  “Those dogs are loud,” Carson agreed with the baby, pitching his voice low and pacing, bouncing him gently. “They’ll quiet down soon.”

  And it was true; their woofed greetings were already dying down, and the child settled, too.

  Wish I could have another child.

  And where had that thought come from? Pam hadn’t wanted more children—honestly, hadn’t initially wanted the twins; they’d been a surprise—and since her death, he’d had his hands full taking care of the girls. Normally, he didn’t have an ounce of attention to spare to the idea of maybe having another child; witness his obliviousness to his daughters’ expectation of a puppy. Besides which, thinking of a third child evoked painful thoughts of the unborn child who had died with Pam.

  Now having another child would involve remarrying, obviously a complicated proposition.

  Focus.

  He watched as Jack knelt before Bella’s cage, studying her before going in. He looked back up at Carson. “Man, those volunteers are great. They keep this place clean. Helps prevent disease.”

  Carson sniffed and nodded, appreciating that the place smelled like disinfectant rather than the many other odors a group of dogs could produce.

  “And they’re sharp,” Jack added. “They noticed Bella’s problem quickly.”

  “Which is what?”

  Jack undid the lock on the cage and eased in, soothing the big black dog as he knelt before her. “Aside from neglect and being thirteen years old, with parasites and some mammary tumors...she seems like she has an ear infection.” He nodded at her. “See how she’s pawing at her face and ear?”

  Carson nodded. “What can you do for a dog who’s that old?”

  Jack studied the dog, his face thoughtful. “Quite a lot, actually. An antibiotic should wipe out this infection, and then we’ll take on the tumors if need be. They’re probably benign. What she really needs, though, is some tender loving care for her golden years.”

  �
��Is she likely to get adopted?” Carson stooped to look at the dog. “Akita, isn’t she?”

  “Uh-huh. And there are people who have open hearts for these hard cases.” He glanced up at Carson. “Thanks for holding Sammy. You look like a natural with him.”

  “I love babies. If things were different, I’d like to have another,” Carson admitted. To preclude Jack’s asking questions, he asked one of his own: “How about you? Any urges toward another child?”

  Jack snorted. “I worry about this one too much. I couldn’t handle another.” He ran his hands over the dog. “Don’t know how you managed as a single dad with two.”

  “Wasn’t easy, but at least they were older when we lost Pam. You had Sammy alone almost from the beginning.” He thought back over what Jack had said. “What do you mean, you worry about him too much? Is something wrong?”

  Jack sighed, his forehead creasing. “Seems to me he’s too quiet. Doesn’t react the way I’d like to see.” He frowned. “The last nanny thought he might be on the spectrum, but I can’t get a doctor to corroborate it this early.”

  “Wow. I’m sorry, man. That’s a lot for you to handle alone.”

  “Alone’s how I’m going to be.” Jack shrugged and continued his examination of the dog. “Never mind about me. What’s going on with you? Heard you and your girls aren’t up here by yourselves.”

  Carson glared. “No, we’re not. Long John’s here, too. In fact, that’s where the girls are now.”

  Jack chuckled. “Heard there was someone even prettier than Long John.”

  Carson blew out a sigh. “Word does travel fast in a small town.”

  “When General Patton and Mrs. Barnes are involved, it does.” Jack grinned. “Word on the street is, you like Penny’s niece.”

  Now, who had said that? “I do like her,” he revealed, “but that doesn’t mean I’m getting involved with her.” Even as he said it, he realized he was fooling himself. What had that kiss meant, if not involvement?

  “Why not?” Jack shoulder-bumped him as they walked to the front of the barn. “Don’t you ever want someone to share your life?”

  “Do you?”

  “I’m different,” Jack said, “and we’re talking about you.”

  “I’d like the companionship,” Carson admitted, “and I’d like a mom for my girls. But...” He sighed. “I didn’t exactly do a bang-up job at marriage before. And I’d hate to have the girls learn to care for someone, then lose them.”

  “You can’t let one bad marriage ruin you for the institution,” Jack argued.

  Carson noticed that he didn’t dispute the idea that Carson’s marriage had been bad. Did everyone in town know it, then?

  “Everyone’s not like Pam,” Jack went on, pretty much confirming the notion. “Take this Lily, for example. Sounds like she’s a nice person. Why don’t you ask her out? Give dating a whirl.”

  “It’s not that easy!” Carson thumped the wall, too hard, to push a loose board back into place. “Especially with someone like Lily. She’s first class, man. Gorgeous, big heart, talented...”

  “What, you’re holding out for a loser?”

  What could he say to that? Carson waved a hand to indicate he was done with the conversation, but Jack’s words echoed in his mind. As he watched the man administer a shot to Bella, he had to admit he was mixed up inside.

  He couldn’t claim that he felt nothing for Lily. In fact, he’d kissed her and loved it. It was the first time he’d been drawn to anyone since Pam.

  It wasn’t just the kissing, either. Lily was fun and funny and kind, warm and natural with his girls, with passions for photography and dogs that made her interesting.

  But Lily was keeping secrets. What’s more, he’d pledged to counsel her, not romance her, and he was doing a shoddy job of that.

  And all of that was aside from the fact that a man like Carson just wasn’t appealing or exciting enough for a woman like Lily, not long-term.

  The door to the barn burst open, and there was the woman in question—with a twin holding either hand. He got to his feet, shifting the baby to his other arm. “You girls were supposed to stay with Long John,” he scolded, not looking at Lily.

  “We saw her walking by, and we wanted to come, and Long John let us,” Sunny said.

  “I’m sorry,” Lily said. “I was coming to figure out my next photo session with the dogs. I didn’t know whether to say yes, but they pleaded so hard...”

  Jack chuckled. “Just imagine when they’re teenagers.”

  “Dr. Jack!” The twins ran to him, clearly delighted. The fun-loving veterinarian was a favorite with them. “What are you doing here? Did you find a puppy for us?”

  “He’s not here for that.” Carson sighed, feeling overwhelmed.

  “It’s fine.” Jack introduced himself to Lily—now, why had Carson forgotten to do that?—and then invited the twins to watch as he finished up Bella’s care. “Puppies are nice,” he told them as he manipulated the old dog’s back legs, checking her joints, “but there are dogs who need homes more. Puppies will always find a home. It takes a special family to love a dog like Bella.”

  “I could love her,” Skye said. “She’s pretty.”

  That was a stretch, but more power to Jack if he could steer the girls toward a senior dog. If Carson ever did give in to their pleas for a canine companion, it would be for one who really needed a home.

  And who was calm, and didn’t chew up shoes, and was house-trained.

  But he didn’t want a dog, he reminded himself. And he didn’t want his girls getting any more attached to Lily, either. Didn’t want to get more attached to the woman, himself. Didn’t want to watch the way she put an arm around each girl as all three of them knelt in front of Bella’s cage, listening to Jack explaining that you needed to be careful even around nice dogs, that you shouldn’t get between a dog and its food.

  It seemed to him that Jack was leaning too close to Lily, smiling at her a little too much. Heat rose in Carson’s neck. Was the vet hitting on her?

  Carson started over, but just in time, he caught himself. He had no right to feel possessive about Lily.

  Annoyed, he walked toward the front of the barn, the part that served as an office, hoping to get a grip on himself.

  Instead, he saw a bulletin board. The left-hand half was covered with photos of dogs who needed homes, while the right-hand half displayed families who’d already adopted a senior dog. Lots of happy-looking people, some of whom were friends of his.

  If Carson were any fun at all, he wouldn’t have disappointed his girls at Christmastime. He’d already have gotten them a dog, if not several pets.

  But Carson wasn’t any fun. Just ask the girls’ mother.

  In the couple of minutes it took Carson to compose himself, Jack got Bella from the cage and walked her outside, Lily and the girls following along. The girls giggled and clucked at the dog, and she turned and slurped one twin’s face, then the other—she was basically the same height that they were.

  Lily looked on, laughing with delight. The way her face lit up...

  She glanced over, saw him watching and flinched. “I have to go,” she said quickly, and headed away from the barn.

  Automatically, Carson walked her to the gate.

  Behind them came the sound of Sunny’s high, clear voice: “Daddy doesn’t want us to talk about this,” she was saying to Jack, “but me and Skye want Miss Lily to be our new mommy.”

  Lily glanced at him, distress written all over her face. It matched the distress in his own heart.

  He couldn’t let his girls get hurt again.

  When they got to the gate, he opened it and held it for her, shifting Jack’s baby to his other arm. “Listen, Lily,” he began.

  “I’m sorry,” she said at the same time.

  They both stopped. Looked at each other, a
nd their gazes tangled.

  Best to do this quick. “Lily,” he said, “you’re a great person, but it would be better if you’d stay away from me and the girls.”

  Chapter Nine

  The next day, just after Lily had cleaned up from the healthy lunch she’d forced herself to eat, she looked through the window and saw Carson walking out the door of his cabin.

  Instantly, she was flooded with embarrassment and hurt.

  It would be better if you’d stay away.

  She didn’t normally dwell on the times she’d felt unwanted: tiptoeing around her parents’ arguments, trying to make friends at a new school, being assigned as the only woman in a work unit overseas.

  But somehow, being told to stay away by Carson—from him and those sweet little girls—hurt a hundred times more.

  She couldn’t give in to the despair that threatened her, though. She had to make every effort to keep it at bay.

  She dried her hands and went over to the spot in front of the fire where Bella, the old Akita, lay on a soft blanket.

  Step one, when you were feeling bad: help someone else.

  She rubbed the dog’s ears for a few seconds, earning a feeble tail wag, and then grabbed her laptop and settled in at the little kitchen table.

  Starting her online course early would keep her plenty busy, keep her mind from going places that wouldn’t do her any good.

  She’d just opened the welcome video from the instructor when there was a knock on her cabin door.

  Her emotions stampeded out of the place she’d corralled them, because it couldn’t be anyone but Carson.

  She stood and drew in a deep breath. She’d send him away.

  As she crossed the cabin, there was another knock. “I’m coming!” She grabbed the door and flung it open, but didn’t step back for him to enter. “What can I do for you, Carson?”

  He winced. “Could I come in and talk for a minute?” His eyes were concerned, studying her.