Stand-In Rancher Daddy

by Renee Ryan

  He suddenly wanted—needed—to be inside the house, with the twins, Molly and one high-spirited cow dog.

  Seconds later, CJ stood there, hat in hand, heart stuck in his throat. Molly and the girls hadn’t noticed him yet. He took the opportunity to watch them at play.

  They sat on the floor, taking turns playing tug-of-war with Roscoe and what looked like a knotted piece of chewed-up rope.

  Low, guttural, good-natured growls accompanied each yank on the dog’s end of the makeshift toy.

  Joy, happiness, renewed hope—in that moment CJ felt all three. As he watched Molly and the twins, he knew—he knew—exactly the life he wanted. A large, cheerful family with at least seven children, a rowdy dog or two and, of course, a beautiful wife to share every chaotic moment with, a woman he would love until the day he died.

  Dare he reach for the dream? Dare he risk another humiliating rejection for a chance at such happiness?

  Did he even deserve such a blessing from the good Lord?

  CJ swallowed hard. He’d reached for the prize twice now, and had been spurned both times. But where Lillian’s refusal had been final, CJ didn’t believe Molly’s was. I like you, CJ. Rather a lot.

  He had no cause to doubt her sincerity. Which meant something else was holding her back from marrying him, something that didn’t have to do with him. If he could uncover the cause of her reluctance, maybe he could change her mind.

  Molly was worth taking a chance on, that much CJ knew. But if he went for the dream with her, and failed, he could very well forfeit far more than his pride.

  His very heart was at stake.

  Spotting him, Roscoe let go of the rag and spun around to face him. The swift release sent the twins tumbling backward, straight into Molly’s lap. The three rolled on the floor in a tangle of skirts and laughter.

  Distracted once again, Roscoe changed direction. Barking wildly, the animal danced around the laughing trio.

  Molly’s eyes shone with pure happiness. Feeling her pull, CJ stepped deeper into the room, his gaze never leaving her face. Had he not been peering so closely he might have missed the look of distress that came and went in her eyes.

  The emotion had been there for no more than a second, maybe two, but CJ had felt the impact of her sadness all the way to the depths of his soul.

  Molly was harboring some hidden pain, something that caused her great anxiety.

  “Unca Corny!” Anna shouted between laughs. “Did you see what Roscoe did?”

  “I sure did.” He stroked the dog’s head, lowered his voice to a teasing note. “Bad dog.”

  The black-and-white animal went into a full body wag.

  The girls jumped to their feet and proceeded to talk over one another as they told CJ all about the quilting bee.

  From her spot on the floor, Molly smiled fondly at the twins. CJ saw “the look” again before she shifted her gaze to him.

  Oh, yes, Molly Carson Langley definitely had a secret.

  Whatever it was, CJ suspected it was the reason she’d turned down his marriage proposal.

  The realization gave him confidence. He was going to find out what Molly hid deep in her heart. And then he was going to erase every single doubt and fear. He wouldn’t relent until she agreed to become his wife.

  Chapter Ten

  CJ was not the man for her. That’s what Molly told herself as she watched him lower himself to the floor and drag the twins onto his lap.

  CJ was not the man for her.

  Unfortunately, she was having a hard time remembering why.

  There was no denying he was a good person, full of Christian integrity and strong character. Loving, loyal, hardworking. No matter how or why Ned had left home, CJ hadn’t hesitated to take over the twins’ care in his brother’s absence. In spite of a few missteps and shaky moments, he was already acting less like an uncle and more like a father.

  Reality beat at Molly with an angry fist. CJ becoming comfortable in the role of father...

  Right. Of course. That was why he wasn’t the man for her. Or, more to the point, why Molly wasn’t the woman for him. He wanted a houseful of children and was ready to move toward that goal as soon as possible.

  His increasing ease with the girls, especially after such a short amount of time, foretold how he would be with them for the next fifteen years. Sarah and Anna couldn’t ask for a better substitute father.

  Roscoe performed several fast spins, then attempted to wedge himself onto CJ’s lap with the twins. When the poor animal realized there was no room for him, he released a pitiful whimper. When that didn’t work, either, he dropped to the floor and rested his chin on CJ’s knee. Complete adoration showed in the animal’s gaze.

  Molly figured her own face had a similar expression.

  Chuckling, CJ gave the dog a pat on the head. The twins took turns mimicking the move. Then Sarah added a noisy kiss to Roscoe’s nose.

  Molly felt hopelessness reach up and nearly choke her. The Thorns were so...very...wonderful.

  She turned away and focused on putting supper on the table. She’d made a simple meal of beef stew and johnnycakes, the children’s favorite.

  CJ scrubbed Roscoe’s face between his hands. “All right, old boy, it’s time to take you outside and make sure you get fed with the other animals.” Pausing at the door, he caught Molly’s eye. “I’ll be back shortly.”

  Not quite meeting his gaze, she nodded.

  Man and dog trooped out the front door.

  Sarah dominated the conversation throughout supper, regaling CJ with repeated stories from their busy day.

  Clearly tired of her sister hogging their uncle’s attention, Anna tapped CJ’s arm. “Unca Corny.” Tap, tap, tap. “Unca Corny!”

  He swiveled his head. “Yes, Anna?”

  “We got to sew our blocks on the quilt all by ourselves.”

  “Did you now?” He lifted a brow in Molly’s direction. She could practically hear his silent question. Aren’t the twins a bit young to be wielding needles?

  “Lula May and I guided their hands,” she assured him.

  “We did mostly all the work,” the child countered.

  Smiling that lopsided grin Molly was growing to love, he tugged on the little girl’s braid. “Impressive.”

  Anna agreed with a wide grin. “I hope the quilt sells for lots and lots of money so we can buy a church building real soon.”

  The comment reminded Molly just how closely the girls had been listening to the women’s conversation. Had they understood Mrs. Rampart’s thinly veiled questions about their father?

  Neither child had mentioned Ned since they’d returned from the Rolling Hills ranch, which was a strong indication that they hadn’t heard or at least hadn’t understood the adults’ talk about their father.

  Shoving aside her worry, Molly explained to CJ how the women in her mother’s sewing circle planned to auction off the finished quilt at the Founder’s Day celebration.

  “What a clever idea.”

  “There’s to be a picnic sale, too,” Sarah announced.

  “A picnic sale?” CJ sent Molly a confused look.

  “She means a picnic basket auction.”

  “That is...?”

  Molly smiled at the way his brows pulled together. “Unmarried women in the community make a picnic lunch and place it in a pretty straw basket. Unattached men bid on their favorite and the winner gets to eat lunch with the woman who put together the meal.”

  CJ stared at her a moment, his mind clearly working through this information. “Will you be preparing a picnic basket?” he asked.

  “I...” Molly struggled with holding CJ’s gaze. “Yes.”

  “Good.” Satisfaction flared in his eyes. “That’s real good to know.”

 
What, Molly wondered, was that look about?

  “There’s one important point I forgot to mention about the auction,” she said in a rush. “The identity of the basket owner is kept secret until after the bidding is complete.”

  CJ frowned at this. “Why?”

  “To make things more interesting, of course. It’s more fun with a bit of intrigue.”

  He muttered something unintelligible under his breath.

  “Unca Corny. Unca Corny.” Anna tapped him on the arm again. “Miss Molly said that me and my sister get to eat with her and whoever buys her basket. And I get to decorate the handle with one of my favorite ribbons.”

  Warmth returned to his eyes. “I like that idea.”

  “Me, too.”

  Supper ended on a pleasant note, with the twins and CJ making suggestions for what Molly should put in her basket. All the items happened to be CJ’s favorite foods.

  As had become their custom, Molly washed the dishes and put the kitchen back in order while CJ helped the girls prepare for bed.

  They were acting like a family again and Molly was more relieved than worried. She decided to enjoy the evening for what it was, time spent with people she enjoyed.

  She arrived in the girls’ bedroom just as CJ finished telling one of his stories. The twins were already tucked in bed, their eyes drooping, but their faces were scrunched in identical looks of fervor.

  “You have to buy Miss Molly’s basket,” Anna said in earnest. “We don’t want to eat with anyone but you.”

  “I can’t make that promise.”

  “Why not?” Sarah demanded.

  “Because I won’t know for sure which basket belongs to her.”

  “But, Unca Corny, that’s not a problem,” Sarah said in her most helpful tone. “Anna and I will tell you which one is hers.”

  “No, you won’t. That’s cheating.” CJ straightened his shoulders as if taking on a heavy weight. “We don’t cheat in this family.”

  His voice was adamant.

  Anna’s bottom lip quivered. “Don’t you want to eat with us and Miss Molly?”

  His expression became a mixture of thoughtful reflection and something else Molly couldn’t quite discern. “I’d like nothing better.”

  “Then it’s settled.”

  “Not quite.” He scooped his hand through his hair, his lips quirked at a determined angle. “I need you to promise there will be no cheating.”

  “But, Unca Corny, can I at least put a pink ribbon on the handle?”

  “That would still be cheating.”

  “Not if I don’t tell you it’s mine.”

  “Now, girls, that’s enough.” Molly moved into the room. “Stop pestering your uncle. The picnic basket auction will work out however it’s supposed to unfold.”

  Neither child looked happy by this, but they didn’t continue arguing.

  “Thank you,” CJ mouthed to Molly, punctuating his gratitude with a smile that reached inside her heart and tugged.

  Not the man for you, she reminded herself.

  Molly could feel the twins watching them, but she couldn’t seem to move, to breathe. She was too riveted by CJ, all six feet of handsome cowboy that he was.

  He seemed equally mesmerized with her. She couldn’t think why, especially after she’d turned down his marriage proposal. The awkward moment was interrupted by a knock at the front door.

  Shaking herself free of CJ’s gaze, Molly said with no small amount of relief, “I’ll find out who it is.”

  “I’ll go. You stay and say good-night to the girls.”

  “All right.”

  He touched her hand before exiting the room. It was a brief, barely-there connection and yet her blood charged through her veins and roared in her ears.

  Molly took her time telling the girls good-night. They could hardly keep their eyes open and drifted off to sleep quickly, a testament to their full, busy day. Molly kissed them each on the forehead, then headed out of the room.

  As she made her way to the front of the house, she heard Cookie and CJ speaking in low, hushed tones that prevented her from deciphering what they actually said. Their rapid-fire interchange and rigid body language suggested an argument was brewing.

  “Why didn’t you tell her what happened?” The concern in Cookie’s voice was echoed in his fierce scowl.

  After a few seconds of eloquent silence, CJ answered, “I didn’t want to worry her. Besides, there hasn’t been time.”

  “Make time.”

  Sensing matters were coming to a head, Molly cleared her throat and finished her trek through the house. “The girls are asleep.”

  An uncomfortable silence fell over the men, pulsing with all kinds of nebulous meaning. Molly sighed. “Have you received word from Ned?”

  “No.” CJ drew in a tight breath. “At least, nothing substantive.”

  Molly had no idea what that meant. She eyed the two men closely, taking in two sets of bunched shoulders and scowls. “Then what were you and Cookie arguing about just now?”

  “Cookie and I weren’t arguing.”

  The man in question made a strangled sound deep in his throat.

  CJ shot him a sharp look.

  Cookie returned the favor before shifting his attention to Molly. “Your wagon is parked by the porch steps and ready to take you home.”

  Dividing a look between the two glowering men, Molly tried not to let her imagination run away with her. “Thank you, Cookie.”

  Grunting again, the grizzled range cook swiped the back of his hand across his mouth. “You be careful on your ride home.”

  “I always am.”

  Seemingly dissatisfied with her answer, Cookie turned to glare at CJ. “You should see Molly home tonight. I’ll stay with the girls until you return.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” she said.

  The older man turned his scowl on her. “With night comes a host of dangers, Miss Molly. Not to frighten you or anything, but snakes, coyotes, even wild hogs can appear without warning. Outlaws, too.”

  If that was his way of not frightening her, she remained thoroughly unimpressed. “I’m sure Duke will follow me home, as he does every night.”

  Stubbornness flared in the older man’s rheumy eyes and he barked out his next words as he would to a regiment of subordinates. “CJ will escort you home tonight.”

  Molly shot a glance at CJ. He’d been surprisingly quiet and continued holding his silence as she studied his closed expression.

  Oh, joy. He’d erected that invisible wall between them once again, though she couldn’t think what could have changed in the time she’d spent saying good-night to the girls.

  She spun back to Cookie. “Why should CJ escort me home?”

  “Because he has something he needs to tell you.” To punctuate his words, the range cook gave the younger man a nudge with his shoulder.

  Finally. CJ broke his silence. “I’ll saddle a horse and meet you out front in a few minutes.”

  The moment the door shut behind him, Molly turned on Cookie. “You want to tell me what that was about?”

  He lifted his hands, palms out. “It ain’t my place.”

  “Of course not.” Aware that her voice sounded more than a little impatient, she attempted to wheedle information out of him. Cookie turned surprisingly tight-lipped.

  Giving up, Molly walked out of the house without a single glance back.

  She found CJ waiting by her wagon as promised. Silhouetted in the shadows of dusk, he looked like the quintessential cowboy. The rugged Texas landscape was a perfect backdrop and added dimension to the already attractive image.

  “Are you going to tell me what’s going on with you and Cookie?”

  “Nothing to concern yourself over.”


  For the first time in their acquaintance, Molly sensed CJ wasn’t being completely honest with her. She didn’t know how to respond.

  He helped her into the wagon, then mounted Scout and pulled up beside her.

  “CJ, clearly there’s been some sort of falling out between you. Won’t you tell me what happened?”

  “Cookie and I are fine.”

  “Then why the hushed whispers and angry scowls?”

  “Something happened on the range.”

  She waited for him to expand. When he didn’t, Molly got a firsthand glimpse of her mother’s frustration with her own unwillingness to share information.

  Proving she was, indeed, Helen Carson’s daughter, Molly pressed CJ from a different angle. “How do you expect me to keep the girls safe if I don’t know what I’m up against?”

  Her question was met with continued silence. But she could see CJ’s mind working, as if he was trying to figure out how much to tell her and how much to keep to himself.

  Giving him a moment to gather his thoughts, Molly looked out across the land she loved. The sun was minutes away from dipping below the horizon, painting the rolling countryside and low-hanging clouds a brilliant array of oranges, pinks and purples. The thick evening air filled with the buzz of various night creatures crawling out of their holes.

  “I hadn’t planned on telling you this,” he began. “But you make a compelling argument.”

  He paused.

  She waited.

  “Cattle have gone missing from Cecil Sorenson’s ranch.”

  At CJ’s hard tone, a shiver navigated along Molly’s spine. “You mean—” she swallowed “—stolen?”

  He nodded, then shared in cold, unemotional terms all he knew about the incident. He ended with the number of cattle that had been taken.

  “Twenty-five to thirty?” she repeated. That was far too many to be explained away as a simple wandering off. No wonder CJ seemed certain it was theft.

  “Sheriff Fuller has been alerted.”

  More bad news. If the county sheriff was involved, then the situation was serious. As soon as the thought emerged, a terrible suspicion took hold. “You don’t think... Oh, CJ, you don’t think Ned is the thief?”