The Rancher's Twins

by Carol Ross

  “Do you want me to get you a TV?” Jon could hear the tightness in his tone.

  “What?” Her face scrunched with confusion.

  “Lydia, I don’t want you to be unhappy here. If it feels like you’re living in the dark ages, I’ll get you a TV.”

  “Umm...” She appeared genuinely baffled by his statement. “I’m not complaining about the fact that you don’t have a TV. In fact, I like that the girls don’t depend on it. Besides, I have a computer and you have the internet.”

  Jon frowned at her.

  “I’m sorry if I offended you. I didn’t mean to. Honestly, I like the no TV, especially where the girls are concerned.”

  Huh. He shifted in his seat. He may have overreacted a bit here. “No, I’m sorry. That was stupid. It’s not you...” How did he explain without explaining? Then again, maybe she deserved to hear the truth. “My ex-wife was very unhappy here so it’s difficult for me to imagine that a woman like her ever could be.”

  “Wait... So, you think I’m like your ex-wife? That’s a crushing thought.”

  “No!” This wasn’t going well. The problem was that Lydia was so different from Ava he still couldn’t believe it. That was part of the problem. How could a woman like her, softened from city life, take so quickly and easily to life on a ranch? “That’s not what I meant.” He needed to make her understand. “She used to say stuff... Make these little digs about my life, putting it down. I’m still a little touchy about it apparently.”

  “I see...” She worried her lip for a second.

  Despite the misgivings still eating away at him, he’d hired her, and now he found that he wanted her to be happy here. He knew in his soul she was the best thing to ever happen to the twins. “Lydia, honestly, if there’s anything you need, I hope you feel like you can ask.”

  “Thank you. That’s actually why I’m here. I want to ask about the girls.”

  “Okay.” He’d assumed she was going to want to talk about that kiss.

  “Remember how I was saying that the girls could maybe use a bit more socialization?”

  “Mmm-hmm.” If she didn’t want to talk about it, then maybe they could just forget that it happened. Forgetting was unrealistic. Pretending was more apt, as difficult as that would be.

  “I was wondering if you’d given it any thought.”

  “Not really.” He hadn’t. Jon and his brothers, and every other ranch kid he knew, including the Carnes clan, turned out fine without “socialization.” That sounded like a citified term if he’d ever heard one.

  “What do you have in mind?” He was wary, he had to admit.

  “Four-H.”

  “Four-H?” he repeated flatly.

  “I know they live on a ranch and everything and probably know a lot of this stuff. But I was thinking it might be a fun way for them to learn more about their rabbits and how to handle them and take care of them. They’d get to hang out with other kids their age, and it’s interactive so it wouldn’t be like Gen would have to try and sit still the whole time like she does in Sunday school. They could even show them at the fair. The woman who runs the group is a rancher, too—Deanne Swift. Do you know her?”

  “I know Deanne. Her daughter, Rainie, is the same age as the twins. I have no problem with 4-H. It sounds great.” First the bunnies, now 4-H? This wasn’t the first time she’d made more work for herself where the girls were concerned.

  “Yes! Thank you.”

  He liked how her eyes sparkled when she was happy, and he liked when he was the cause.

  “Now let’s get back to your TV thing.”

  “Do we have to?”

  She laughed. “Yes, we do. But don’t worry. I’m going to help you prepare. Can I take a look at the email?”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  DRESSED AND READY for a day of ranching in his jeans and flannel shirt, Jon startled Lydia when he strolled into the kitchen late the next morning. A few minutes past 6:00 a.m. was late for him, anyway. She’d assumed he was already gone.

  “Something smells good.”

  “Hi, I didn’t know you were still here.”

  Mouth hooked up on one side, he said, “Is it not okay to stick around and have breakfast with my girls?” The way he said it, that my combined with his lingering gaze made her throat go dry. Picking up the whisk, she pretended the pancake batter needed a little more mixing.

  “Of course, the girls will be thrilled. I’m, uh, making animal cakes.”

  She felt his heat as he came up next to her. Inhaling a deep breath didn’t help because it only filled her head with his delicious and already familiar scent. All she could do was hope that by ignoring what had happened, this attraction would fade away. In the meantime, she just needed to keep her distance. She could do that. Although, it would be so much easier if he wasn’t so masculine and attractive.

  He edged a little closer. “Animal cakes?”

  And if he didn’t smell so good. “Here.” She shoved a plate at him. “You can have the amoebas.”

  He studied the pancakes. Fighting a smile, he repeated, “Amoebas?”

  “Fine, they’re my failed horse-cake attempts. Horse cakes are tricky. Amoebas sound more fun, I think, than blobs.”

  He wasn’t moving. Why wasn’t he moving? Reaching out, he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. Her pulse took off like a high-speed train. “Lydia—”

  “Jon,” she whispered, turning serious. “We can’t. You can’t touch me. Or watch me or stare at my mouth anymore. We have to stay focused on the girls. And the fact that you’re my boss and I’m your nanny and—”

  “I know. You’re right.” The longing and pain in his expression matched the ache in her heart. “But—”

  “Are those pancakes?” A sleepy-eyed Abby strolled into the kitchen, clutching her plush bunny. “Daddy!” She skipped toward Jon. “You’re still here.”

  “Hey, bunny girl.” She stopped beside him. He picked her up. “Can you believe this? Lydia made us a bunny breakfast.” Lydia felt herself melt. Yep, masculine and attractive and tender and caring and sweet—with his girls, with his dog, his horse, his friends, the cattle. He loved his brothers and Katie. Even his grandfather was the object of less animosity than the circumstances seemed to warrant.

  “What’s a bunny breakfast?” Jon picked up another plate and showed it to Abby. Her face transformed as the bunny shapes registered in her brain. She graced Lydia with a billion-watt smile. More melting ensued.

  “Good morning.” A gravelly-voiced Gen emerged into the kitchen.

  “Gen, look, Lydia made bunny cakes.”

  Gen came closer. “Aww... Those are so cute. I want one.”

  “You can have as many as you want. Or, Genevieve...” Lydia slid the spatula under the best horse cake on the griddle. She flipped it onto a plate and presented it to her. “You can have a horse cake.”

  Gen’s eyes lit up. “H-O-R-S-E.”

  Lydia gasped and gave her a squeeze. “That’s right. That’s exactly right, smarty-pants.”

  “It sure is,” Jon added. “Way to go, Genevieve.”

  The look of pride and happiness on his face mixed with her own and filled Lydia with a kind of joy she couldn’t remember ever experiencing. Jon and the girls headed to the dining room, where butter and warm maple syrup waited. Lifting the remaining pancakes from the griddle, Lydia carried them to the table and slid into the seat next to Gen. Across the table, she and Jon locked eyes. She could only imagine how it must feel to be a mom and share moments like these every day with a husband who loved her as much as she loved him...

  Lydia went still for a few seconds as joy vibrated through her, like the strum of a perfectly tuned guitar. Her heart seemed to stutter before redoubling its efforts and battering hard against her ribs. She nearly winced from the force of the realization—she loved him. She was in love with
him. She loved all three of them. There was no point in trying to deny it anymore, not to herself.

  “Are you okay?” Jon asked, and the concern in his gray eyes had her wondering how he felt about her.

  “Perfect,” she answered with a bright smile.

  It was important, she told herself, to acknowledge how she felt. That way she could safeguard them all. She would do that by keeping some distance between them. No more intimacy. Just friendly and platonic. Boss-employee, rancher-nanny, Lydia-Jon.

  Lydia forced herself to tune back into the moment. She told a joke about giraffes and laughed with the girls. She asked Jon his opinion on organic milk. Abby and Gen talked bunny names for their new pets. They enjoyed a nice long breakfast.

  Afterward, Jon kissed the girls goodbye. Lydia stood by the sink. She reached out to take his plate and glass. It made her smile when he ignored her, rinsing the dishes and stowing them in the dishwasher.

  “When I am too spoiled to put my plate in the dishwasher, please push me over a cliff. Besides, I need to set a good example for the girls. I want them to know how to take care of themselves and their home. This is their home, too. You’re not a maid, Lydia.”

  “All right.” She smiled at him and wiped her hands on a towel.

  “I won’t make it in for dinner. Dusty saw a herd of elk in the upper fields when he was riding fence last night. I’m going to head out and check for damage. After my loafing around yesterday and this morning I want to give the guys a little time off.” He’d already mentioned that he’d need a lunch today, so Lydia added an extra apple and two of the energy bars she’d made and froze a few days ago to the pile of food she’d prepared.

  “No kidding, slacker,” she said wryly. “I think I’m going to call Sofie and see if she wants to join me in a little pigpen building on my day off.”

  He chuckled as he tucked the lunch into a bag.

  “I’d like to see an elk.” She handed him a thermos full of coffee.

  “Really?”

  “Um, yeah. I’ve never seen one in real life.”

  “They’re beautiful, no doubt about that. They’re also a menace. Bust right through our fences.”

  “Can’t you make a bigger, stronger fence?”

  “I could, yes, but I don’t want to stop them from getting where they want to go. They were here first. I just wish they were better about jumping over or crawling under, like the deer. Most times they’ll jump ’em. But they have a strong herd mentality, and when they are running hard, especially when they get spooked, our fences take a real beating.”

  “Huh. That’s fascinating.”

  Jon tilted his head, studying her. “Maybe, one of these days, we could go for a ride, see some more of the ranch? It’s extra pretty in the back where the property borders government land.”

  “I would enjoy that,” she answered immediately. It pained her that he asked so hesitantly. She was trying not to hate his ex-wife, but the more she learned, the more difficult that was.

  “Okay then. Are we, uh, still on for tonight?” he asked.

  “Yes, for sure. By the time I’m through with you, Bethany Stouffer won’t know what hit her.”

  * * *

  LYDIA STEERED THE SUV into a parking space in front of South Corner Drug & Sundries and glanced in the rearview mirror. Their first 4-H meeting had gone very well so she’d suggested ice cream.

  “Ready?” she asked.

  They climbed out. Gen and Abby held hands and skipped toward the shop. Once inside, they took a moment to study the choices through the glass case. Lydia urged them to place their orders on their own, which they did, and so politely it made her ache with pride. Chocolate chip and rainbow sherbet for Gen, chocolate mint and bubblegum for Abby. Lydia smiled inside—kids and their odd flavor combinations.

  She placed her order with the sweet teenaged boy working the counter. “And I’ll have two scoops, maple nut and peanut-butter pie on a waffle cone.”

  The girls got their ice cream and Lydia settled them at the long diner-style counter with extra napkins. She walked over to collect her cone when she heard a voice behind her. “How can you eat like that and stay so slim?”

  Lydia turned to find Marilee standing behind her. Hands on hips, she looked Lydia up and down. Today she was wearing tights, sneakers and a snug tank top that showed off her defined shoulders and arms. Clearly, Marilee’s dry-wick workout clothing was getting its intended use. Lydia’s yoga pants had never even seen a tree pose. A taller woman with long blond hair stood smiling next to Marilee.

  Lydia grinned and gestured at her curves. “I can’t.” But I don’t care, she wanted to add, but didn’t. In Lydia’s experience, people who were as dedicated to their workouts as Marilee couldn’t hear about your lack of commitment without trying to convert you to their ways.

  “Hmm. Some ladies and I, we do dance fit and circuit training at the high school on Monday and Wednesday evenings and Saturday mornings if you’re interested.”

  Not on your life, she thought. “That sounds fun,” she answered noncommittally.

  Gesturing at her companion, Marilee said, “Peyton and I just got back from working out. Lydia, this is Peyton. Peyton, this is Lydia. Peyton is new in town, too.”

  “Oh, hi.” Lydia asked, “Where are you from?”

  “Phoenix.”

  “Excuse me a sec?” Marilee said. “That’s Vance Bonner, the new principal at the school. I need to ask him a quick question.” Marilee power-walked across the store toward a tall, broad-shouldered man who looked like he might be doing dance fit, too, while bench-pressing the other participants.

  “That’s the principal?” Lydia asked, taking a bite of the creamy heavenly mix.

  “Yep. Education is highly valued in Falcon Creek, I’ve noticed. I’m a waitress over at Clearwater Café and he eats there often. A lot of the women in town have important school-related questions to ask him, especially the single ladies.”

  Lydia snuffled out a laugh and almost choked on her ice cream. “I bet. How are you liking Falcon Creek?”

  “Honestly?” Peyton smiled at her. “This place is kind of a culture shock. City girl to country girl in the blink of an eye.”

  “Oh, Peyton,” Lydia said with a laugh. “I sympathize. I’m from Philadelphia.”

  Across the store, Marilee patted Principal Bonner on his muscled forearm.

  Peyton said, “We should have coffee or lunch sometime. You know how they have those expatriate groups where people from the same country get together and miss their homeland? We could start our own—two city girls getting together and sharing stories and reminiscing about take-out food and rush-hour traffic.”

  Lydia chuckled, even as she realized that she didn’t miss much about Philadelphia aside from Meredith and Tanner. But she liked Peyton and felt a connection. She found herself agreeing. “I’d like that. I know someone else who might like to join us,” she added, thinking about Sofie.

  Peyton pulled out her phone and Lydia quickly rattled off the number at the ranch. Lydia said goodbye and joined the girls. She found herself hoping Peyton would call. It felt nice making friends, even though she knew she couldn’t confide in them. She couldn’t confide in anyone. Because no matter what happened, she never wanted Jon to know the truth about what she’d done and why she’d come here. She’d never want him to think her love for this place, for him and the girls, was anything but genuine.

  * * *

  JON READ FROM the paper in his hand, “‘How does it make you feel when you look out over this pasture filled with your cattle, cattle you so lovingly care for, knowing that one day they’ll be someone’s cheeseburger?’” He shook his head. “This is the stupidest question yet. I’m not answering it.”

  “Jon—”

  “No, Lydia, seriously.” He stood and stalked over to the window. “What do people like this Betha
ny and her citified producer think? That their hamburger grows on Styrofoam plates wrapped in plastic? Or it’s like broccoli? Someone picks it in clumps and stacks it in the refrigerated section?”

  Lydia tipped her head back and laughed. Despite his natural reserve, Jonathon Blackwell was extremely articulate and incredibly intelligent. She enjoyed making him laugh and he continually slayed her with his dry sense of humor. They’d been taking a few of the interview questions each night and fine-tuning Jon’s responses. It was fun trying to draw him out. Even though that post-kiss awkwardness still lingered between them, she loved spending time with him.

  “Hey, I’ll confess I never gave those tidy little packages much thought myself until a few weeks ago. People are curious about how you reconcile raising an animal, that you obviously care about by the way, with the final product. I mean, I know ranching is about the bottom line, too. But face it, Jon, you wouldn’t be doing this organic thing if that’s all you cared about. You’d still be working for Big E on your family’s ranch. So, just answer the question like I was the one asking it. Forget about Bethany.”

  He blew out an irritated breath, turned around and focused on her. “All right. Uh, let’s see... It makes me feel proud and accomplished to raise a healthy herd free of artificial hormones, steroids and unnecessary antibiotics. I like that my cows get plenty of fresh air, sunshine and all the green grass they can eat. I like knowing that they have the best quality to their life that I can give them. Every living creature deserves that. It’s real and it’s tangible and people can see it in my cattle when they visit my ranch. Ultimately, it’s a difference they can taste and one that’s healthier, too. For cows and people.”

  Lydia’s mouth dropped open into a gape. She was gaping. And her blood was humming. Good grief. She was absolutely positive no one could be more attractive talking about cattle than Jon Blackwell. “Wow,” she breathed.

  “Too much?”