Texas Christmas Twins

by Deb Kastner

  She started up the engine and made a quarter turn in her seat so she could look him straight in the eye.

  “What about the kitchen?”

  “Don’t you want to straighten it up a little before we leave? I should have offered to help,” he said, although technically, he had offered to help.

  “Zoo...messy kitchen. Zoo...messy kitchen.” She paused and cocked her head as if deep in thought. “Nope. No contest. The zoo will win every time. Sticky dough can wait. I want to see the monkeys.”

  * * *

  Simon probably thought she was a monkey. It certainly looked like a whole tribe of them inhabited her kitchen. And he had a point that she probably should have at least wiped down the counters before they’d left.

  But she loved the zoo, and she knew Harper and Hudson would, too, especially with Christmas zoo lights. She couldn’t wait to see their happy little faces all fascinated by the animals, hear the squeals and giggles when the polar bear swam by them.

  And Simon—he’d made the first move, not once, but twice now, reaching out to her with a hand of friendship.

  How great was that? She wasn’t about to turn his overture away.

  Hanging out with Simon was an adventure, to say the least, sometimes up the path, sometimes down. But even though it seemed like they often bumped heads, whether on purpose or as an accident...this was the zoo.

  What could go wrong at the zoo?

  She turned the corner and headed toward Tumbleweed Avenue, Wildhorn’s version of Main Street. Running east and west, with only two streetlights at either end of the town, it was the primary shopping thoroughfare, such as it was.

  About two blocks away from Tumbleweed Avenue, Miranda’s SUV came to a sudden stop behind a long line of other cars. It appeared there was some kind of commotion on Tumbleweed. It wasn’t like Wildhorn to have a traffic jam, and it wasn’t a holiday, so there shouldn’t be anything blocking the road.

  “I’ll go see what all this fuss is about,” Simon said before hopping out of the cab and striding down the street.

  He returned minutes later, a frown creasing his brow. Miranda hadn’t been able to move her SUV an inch, and now there was a line of bumper-to-bumper traffic behind her, as well as in front of her.

  “Are we missing a Christmas parade?” she asked, even though she knew from Simon’s expression that it wasn’t anything as nice as that.

  Ever since the moment Simon had exited the SUV, Miranda had been praying there hadn’t been a terrible accident on the road. She’d rolled down her window, and while the murmur of voices was quite loud, she didn’t hear any sirens.

  Simon didn’t bother answering her teasing question.

  “Those kids—the ones who messed up the Nativity scene at the church? They’ve struck again, this time out on Tumbleweed.”

  “Really? What did they do this time?” Despite Simon’s grave expression, she was more curious than worried. She hadn’t thought the Nativity scene was such a bad thing. Not the way Simon had.

  “It’s town pickup this weekend. Folks are encouraged to bring out their bags of late fall leaves and the town disposes of them for free.”

  “Right. I remember hearing about it on the news. The drop-off spot is in front of Duke’s Hardware, as I recall.”

  “Well, it was in front of Duke’s Hardware. Now it’s the whole length of Tumbleweed Avenue. And it’s an enormous mess.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Some kids on a lark dumped all of the leaves out of the bags and spread them from one end of town to the other. It’s a huge disarray and it’s got to be cleaned up as soon as possible because of traffic. As it is right now, no one can get through.”

  He pressed his lips into a grim line. “I’m sorry, Miranda, but the zoo is going to have to wait for another day.”

  “Of course,” she immediately agreed. “Did you see what’s being done to take care of the problem?”

  “Lloyd Duke is handing out rakes and donating new lawn and leaf bags, and the townspeople have banded together to pitch in and clean up the mess.”

  Miranda glanced in the rearview mirror. “Well, this vehicle isn’t going anywhere in the near future. Why don’t we bundle the little ones up in the stroller and see what we can do to help?”

  “Why am I not surprised?” He shook his head.

  “About what?”

  “That you’d want to pitch in, even though you have two active babies to look after. You amaze me. Hudson and Harper are just a natural part of your life. They don’t slow you down at all.”

  “Why should they?”

  He shook his head again and helped her unload the twins. The stroller became cumbersome as they hit the main street, which was covered with at least two inches of golden leaves.

  Miranda gasped audibly at the sight. Multiple tones of reds, oranges, yellows and golds mixed to make the avenue look like the road leading to the gates of heaven. It was an absolutely beautiful sight to behold, leading from the far end of town all the way up to the life-size Santa’s sleigh and wire-cast reindeer. Snow might have fit the theme better, but given that they were in Texas, golden leaves were a decent runner-up.

  “What?” Simon asked, concern lining his tone.

  “Can you watch both kids for a moment?”

  “Well, sure, but—”

  She was already dashing away, heading back to the SUV, where she’d left her camera bag.

  She gently pulled the camera out of the case and quickly added one of the longer lenses, glorying in the feel of the weight in her hand as she slid the strap over her head and around her neck.

  She took photograph after photograph of the leaf-lined street, along with pictures of the Christmas-light-decorated windows on most of the business storefronts, blinking holiday goodwill.

  To her dismay, she realized she hadn’t taken a single picture of the twins since she’d arrived in Wildhorn. It was all she could do to manage the care of two babies without trying to photograph them, as she should have done.

  What had she been thinking? The twins grew and changed every day. She should be documenting it. Not to mention all the cute shenanigans they got into. Sticky dough pictures would have been adorable.

  Well, she couldn’t change the past, but going forward, she’d be taking such a variety and number of pictures of Harper and Hudson that everyone she knew would get tired of her showing them off.

  She chuckled lightly. She sincerely doubted anyone could really get tired of seeing photos of that kind of cuteness.

  She was short of breath by the time she returned to Simon’s side. He started to ask her why she’d run off in such a dither, but she anticipated his question and lifted her camera.

  “I wanted to document this, and my professional camera catches the light much better than my cell phone.”

  Simon nodded. “Great idea. I’m glad you think like a photographer. I would never have thought of visually documenting the crime scene, but it makes perfect sense to do so.”

  “Crime scene? What crime scene? All I see is leaves. A wonderfully colorful road of multicolored leaves.”

  “You don’t think the culprits should be caught and taught a lesson?” he asked, sounding astounded that she couldn’t see his point of view.

  She could. She just didn’t agree with it.

  “At the very least, they ought to be given community service—picking up the trash by the side of the road for a hundred hours, since they made such a mess of it.”

  “This prank seems harmless enough. No worse than the Nativity scene, except that we’ll have to clean it up. At worst, drivers will need to reduce their speed through the town, which in my opinion they ought to be doing anyway.”

  “And the townspeople have to stop what they’re doing to clean up the mess.” Simon held up the rak
e someone had passed him. “Doesn’t that at least score them down for inconvenience?”

  He sounded annoyed. Hopefully not with her, although she wouldn’t be surprised if he was.

  Miranda saw the scene completely differently than Simon did. She looked around and saw neighbors helping neighbors, all working together—some raking, others holding open bags in which to deposit the leaves.

  Simon was right about one thing—people had had to change their plans. There was no easy way of getting through on the road until the leaves had been cleaned off it, and someone had to stick around to clean up the mess. The zoo was up in smoke for them today.

  But the zoo would still be there tomorrow.

  And as with the Nativity scene, Miranda was awed by the artistic workmanship of the pranksters who had strewn the leaves on the avenue. They weren’t randomly dumped around, making messes of sidewalks and decorated storefronts, as she expected vandals would do.

  No. It was meant to be a golden road. Miranda was sure of it.

  She snapped a few more pictures and showed them to Simon.

  “Don’t you see the beauty here?”

  “Don’t you see the damage?” he barked back.

  She snorted. “I wouldn’t call it damage. It’s just leaves. No person or property has been hurt by them.”

  “That depends on your definition of hurt, now doesn’t it? The twins didn’t get to go to the zoo today because of these vandals. I would call that direct damage.”

  “How do you know it was the same kids as the crèche, anyway?” she asked, although she suspected from the care and artistry that had gone into the project that it was the same group of teenagers.

  “They tagged it.” He pointed to a macramé-like rope dangling from one corner of the Duke’s Hardware sign. “Triple H. Just like the last time.”

  “I wonder what it means.”

  He shrugged. “Trouble.”

  Miranda took Hudson out of the double stroller and plopped him down in the middle of a fresh pile of leaves.

  “Look up here, buddy,” she coaxed as she took snapshot after snapshot of the bouncing baby boy.

  “Can you grab Harper for me?” she asked. “I want to do some single photos with her, as well, and then get some of the two of them together.”

  “I thought you were documenting the damage,” he said as he got Harper out of the stroller and set her down next to Hudson.

  Miranda sighed. “There is no damage, Simon. Not really. I was taking pictures of the golden road. Besides, if I have to document something, I’d much rather document people. There’s a reason I was a celebrity photographer and not a landscape artist.”

  The twins were giggling and pelting each other with handfuls of leaves, and Miranda continued to photograph them, as well as taking pictures of others cleaning up the stretch of road.

  Neighbor chatting with neighbor. Children taking running jumps into piles of leaves and happily undoing all the work the laughing adults had accomplished. The church youth worked as a group, methodically gathering bags of leaves and placing them back in front of Duke’s Hardware while elderly neighbors looked on.

  Not only had it become a community event, but it also wasn’t long before Miranda found herself the center of attention. Folks were interested in the way she went about snapping pictures of them with her professional camera, and before she knew it, she’d promised at least a couple of dozen people that she’d get business cards made up as inquiries came in for weddings, pregnancy pictures and family photo shoots.

  “That was the fastest, easiest business start-up I’ve ever seen.” Simon appeared particularly pleased by that statement. He actually smiled as he crouched by the twins and showered them with leaves.

  Then he looked up at her and frowned. “But you don’t need the money, right? So why are you giving all of those people false hope?”

  “It isn’t about the money. I love photography and I miss doing photo shoots. Up until today I didn’t realize how much.”

  “It’s something you can do on your own time, as much or as little as you want, to fit your schedule with the twins.”

  “Exactly.”

  He smiled again.

  She would never figure out this man.

  “I can guarantee you that you’ll have more business than you’ll know what to do with, but it’s all country around here. Won’t you miss the glitz and glamour?”

  Miranda dove for Hudson as he stuffed a handful of leaves into his mouth.

  “Oh, pah, pah, pah! Spit it out! Spit it out!”

  Hudson wailed in protest.

  “Blech. Blech.” She forced her finger into his mouth and scraped out the remaining foliage.

  Simon tossed down his rake and snatched Harper out of the leaf pile before she could mimic her brother.

  “Oh, gross, Hudson,” Miranda groaned.

  She’d thought she’d been doing better, getting a handle on the whole motherhood business, but every time she gave herself a pat on the back for a job well-done, something like this happened.

  Maybe she really was the lost cause Simon seemed to think she was.

  Her gaze reached his, but instead of the judgmental frown she expected, he held up his free hand in surrender and burst into laughter.

  “What? I didn’t say anything,” he said when she lowered her brow.

  “You didn’t have to.”

  “You were the one who told me kids were gonna put stuff in their mouths that they weren’t supposed to.”

  “Yes, but not an entire fistful of leaves.”

  “You should have gotten it on your camera for posterity’s sake. You could have teased Hudson with it when he was a teenager.”

  “I was too busy trying to get the leaves out of his mouth.” Miranda scooped Hudson into her arms.

  “In you go, you little scamp,” she said, strapping him back into the stroller. “And somewhere,” she continued, digging through the designer purse she was currently using as a diaper bag, “I think I’ve got a package of crackers for you to nom on. It’s much better tasting than leaves, I promise you.”

  Simon didn’t immediately put Harper in the stroller with Hudson. He appeared to be waiting for something.

  Oh, yes. The answer to his question.

  In the whole panic of Hudson stuffing leaves into his mouth, Miranda had almost forgotten what Simon had asked.

  “Will I miss the glitz and glamour of Los Angeles? Honestly? No, not really. I never did care for life in the limelight, even if it was mostly behind the scenes. I miss some of the friends I made out there, of course, but that’s to be expected. I loved traveling, seeing new places and experiencing different cultures. But I’ve been there and done that, and as great as it was at the time, as Dorothy said, there’s no place like home. Especially now that I have Hudson and Harper with me to love and to make my life complete.”

  Well, almost complete. Her life was full to overflowing with the twins, but she was suddenly aware of a tiny aching deep within her heart, something she hadn’t noticed until the past few weeks.

  He stared at her, taking her measure. He opened his mouth as if to say something and then closed it again.

  “What?”

  He shrugged as if he had no idea what she was talking about and then dropped his gaze, using his boot to leverage the rake back up to one hand. Still holding Harper, he busied himself raking leaves into a pile.

  Whatever Simon had been about to say, the moment had passed now, leaving Miranda’s imagination to fill in the gaps—gaps that zigzagged up and down and all around.

  She’d always had an active imagination.

  Chapter Ten

  Simon marveled at Miranda’s ability to see the good in everything. He’d looked at the street and had seen disaster, where she’d seen
beauty.

  And he supposed she had a point, although it had nothing to do with the prank and everything to do with the community.

  Neighbors had gathered to help each other. Everyone from nine-month-old twins to Wildhorn’s octogenarians had come together to make their town a beautiful place to live. Families were working as a unit. The church youth had jumped in to do their part. No one thought twice about chipping in to help.

  This was why he loved living in Wildhorn. He knew what it was like not having a family. And he wouldn’t wish it on anyone in a million years.

  He kissed Harper on each of her soft, chubby cheeks and reluctantly returned her to her stroller.

  Money couldn’t buy what Wildhorn gave for free. And Miranda captured that through the long lens of her camera.

  He wished he had more to offer her and the twins, personally speaking.

  She had a wonderful network of extended family to support her. He wondered if she even realized how blessed she was. She had a faith in God that Simon envied. She didn’t know what it was like to have no one—no family, no faith. To be knocked around by the world.

  To be truly alone.

  One thing was certain. He couldn’t convince her that the work of these Triple H pranksters might eventually lead to something more serious. Something truly damaging, hurting people as well as property.

  She looked through her camera lens and all she saw was light.

  He just couldn’t do that.

  “It looks like things are pretty well in control here,” Miranda said. “Folks are starting to get through. We’d probably better get back to my SUV now. I left it parked right in the middle of the street. People will be waiting for me to get out of the way.”

  “I’m going to organize a neighborhood watch committee,” he informed her when they were buckled in and on their way back to his ranch. “I don’t expect you to agree with me. I just wanted you to know.”

  He wasn’t trying to cause another rift between them, so he was careful how he chose his words. Right now, more than anything, he wanted to get along with her—for the twins’ sake, and also because, oddly enough, despite the fact that it drove him batty, he was starting to depend on her sunny outlook on things to keep him from sliding off the other end.