“Okay, whoa…” Dallas whooshed his hand over his head. “You lost me back at routines.”
“Take, for instance, their school routines. In order to get my students used to their new classroom setting as opposed to hanging out at home, where their days are less structured, we do the same things over and over until they become second nature. We make lines for hand washing and recess and lunch. We say the pledge and then first thing every morning review our previous days’ letters and learn a new one. Because our schedule rarely varies—unless some parent shows up with cup cakes and ponies—” she winked “—by the end of the first quarter, most of my little munchkins could probably tell a substitute what they should be covering at any given time.”
For the life of him, Dallas failed to see what all that had to do with him. “As far as routines—tooth brushing and bath and bedtimes and stuff—that’s all Nanny Stella’s domain.”
“Who makes sure they do their homework?”
“Used to be Nanny Stella. Now…” He shrugged. “And chores?”
Starting to get the picture, Dallas reddened.
“Enforcing table manners?”
“My mom, but if the girls are way out of line in playing with their food, I’ll growl in their direction.”
Josie frowned.
“What? Dad always ran a tight ship when it came to mealtimes.”
“Uh-huh. So let’s see, pretty much the only interaction you have with the girls is at mealtime?”
“Not at all. We fish and go toy shopping and watch movies. They’re all the time out in the barn with me, and a few days each week we pack a picnic and take off on trail rides.”
“All of that sounds amazing but, Dallas, during any of that fun, do you ever get to be a disciplinarian?”
Luckily, he was spared answering Josie’s latest question by the arrival of the pie and her tea.
The bell over the door jingled as a family of five came in for early supper. With yellow walls, faded linoleum floors and mismatched booths, the diner might have been lacking in decor, but the food was stick-to-your ribs good. A couple soon entered, followed by another family. Why, Dallas couldn’t say, but it made him feel good to see the empty diner filling. There was safety in numbers, and even though he’d asked Josie for help, he felt under attack. Which was ridiculous. His girls loved him and for now, that was enough.
“That was delicious,” Josie said, patting her napkin to her lips. “I can’t remember the last time I had pie.”
“Mom makes it at least once a month.”
Pouring herself a second cup of tea, she asked, “Do you ever get tired of living with your mom?”
“Surprisingly not. We get on each other’s nerves, but since she lost Dad and I lost Bobbie Jo, we’ve leaned on each other.”
“Makes sense,” she said, swirling honey into her mug.
“How about you? After your husband died, who’d you turn to for support?”
Turning introspective, she said, “Mostly friends. My parents retired to Maine.”
He whistled. “That’s a long haul.”
“No kidding.”
“What moved them up there?”
She looked away. “Long story.”
“I have time.” He finished the last of his meringue.
“Wish I did.” She grimaced while pushing herself out of the booth. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I have an appointment.”
He checked his watch. “It’s nearly seven.”
She flashed a hesitant smile, and not that he was by any means an expert when it came to deciphering women, but damned if she didn’t look ready to cry. “I really should go.”
An apology rode the tip of his tongue, but seeing how she already had one foot out the diner’s door, it wouldn’t do him a hell of a lot of good. Which led him to the conclusion that he’d have had a more productive evening staying in the barn to oil his saddle.
HALFWAY HOME, JOSIE SWIPED tears from her cheeks, feeling weak and silly. It’d been four years. Why had such a casual question concerning her parents caused a meltdown?
Maybe because with all of Dallas’s talk about family, she knew she was a fraud? Oh, sure, when it came to deciphering the mind of a kindergartener, she was a pro, but when it came to her own damaged psyche, all bets were off.
In the house, Kitty hopped down from his window seat to rub against Josie’s calves. She set her purse and keys on the entry-hall bench before picking up the cat, burying her face in his fur. “Why am I such a mess?”
Kitty answered with a satisfied purr.
Sighing, she returned Kitty to his favorite spot. Though she knew better than to make her next move, she did it anyway. One of her favorite features of her home was the split levels. The sunken living room. The three steps at the end of the hall leading to Emma’s room.
Pushing open the door, greeted by the soft haze of sun setting beyond western-facing windows, she saw three-year-old Emma jumping on her canopy bed. Giggling while building a block tower only to knock it down. Sleeping with lashes so long they’d brushed her cheeks.
Josie hugged herself, stepping farther into the room. Deeper into her daughter’s spell. Her parents had begged her to change the sanctuary into a sewing or exercise room. To reclaim the space for herself. What they didn’t understand was that touching Emma’s bird nest collection, gathered from nature hikes and from the yard after storms, if only for a moment, returned Josie’s daughter to her arms. Upon finding each treasure, she’d said a singsong prayer for the winged creatures who’d lost their home before reverently handing it to her mother to be placed upon her “special” shelf. Then, Emma held out her arms to be picked up, asking Josie to tell her a story about all of the songbirds living in their backyard.
Together, they’d squeezed into the comfy armchair in Emma’s room where Josie would spin tales of a fanciful bird kingdom presided over by bossy King Jay.
Seated in the chair, Josie ran her hands along the floral chintz upholstery, hoping to release some of her daughter’s precious smell, knowing the action was futile, yet going through the motions all the same.
She hadn’t indulged in licking her emotional wounds in a long time. Months. Maybe even a year. Yes, she’d been in the room to dust picture books and dolls, but not to mourn. More to celebrate the miracle her precious little girl had been.
The fact that she’d now backslid into the wreck she’d once been told her she wasn’t anywhere near ready to be with another man—even for an outing as seemingly innocuous as talking over pie. Conversations naturally led to questions. The answers to which, she was too mortified to tell.
Chapter Five
Monday morning, though typically Nanny Stella would take the twins to school, Dallas volunteered for the chore. He told himself he wanted to spend more time with his girls, but truth be told, he was still irked by the way Josie had ditched him.
Yes, he might be attracted to her physically, but that only meant he was a man and all that that implied. After stewing on the issue all weekend, Dallas was ready for answers.
What he wasn’t prepared for was finding Josie surrounded by three other teachers, looking red-eyed and blotchy as if she’d recently cried.
“What’s wrong with Miss Griffin?” Bonnie asked. “She looks bad.”
“Be nice,” Dallas snapped, not in the mood for a repeat of his daughter’s Friday performance.
“She was being nice, Daddy.” Betsy raised her chin while grabbing her sister’s hand. “Miss Griffin does look bad.”
He shook his head. “Less talk and more stowing your gear.”
“You mean our backpacks?” Bonnie scrunched her face. “’Cause I’m pretty sure I don’t have anything called gear.”
Upon steering his daughters toward their cubbies, Dallas helped remove lunches and Hello Kitty crayon boxes. Next on the agenda was making sure Green Bean had stayed home in his jar. Satisfied no immediate shenanigans were planned, he got both girls settled at their respective tables with their chubby pe
ncils and writing tablets.
Satisfied both of his daughters were working as opposed to faking it until he turned his back, he went out into the hall.
Josie was finally on her own, greeting students as they entered her room.
“About Friday night…”
“Good morning, Thomas. Have a nice weekend?”
“Uh-huh,” the boy said with an exaggerated nod. “We went to the Tulsa state fair and saw a gigantimous pumpkin the size of my dad’s truck!”
With plans to go Wednesday night, the monster pumpkin was at the top of Dallas’s girls’ to-do list.
“Whoa,” Josie said to her student without missing a beat. “That must’ve been amazing. Did you bring me a fried Twinkie?”
“Nooo!” he said with a giggle. “Mom said those cost, like, a million trillion dollars and we’re not rich.”
“Me, neither.” Loudly sighing, she shook her head and smiled. “But when I win the lottery we’ll go nuts. Buy all the fried food our stomachs can hold.”
“Promise?”
Nodding, she rubbed the top of his head before pushing him into the room. “But before we start eating, you need to get to work on your review letters.”
“Okay…” Head drooped, he marched off to put away his things.
Suddenly alone with Josie, Dallas found himself in the unfamiliar position of feeling like a five-year-old, vying for teacher’s attention. “Where were we?”
Her smile pinched, she said, “Not sure, but regardless, I’ve got a long day ahead of me.”
“I know—” he moved between her and the door “—and I’m sorry to barge in like this, but please, just tell me what I did to make you run off like that.”
“Dallas…” The way she glanced at the ceiling and then back into her room, even the first grader skipping down the hall while playing with his zipper would’ve been smart enough to recognize Josie was trying to avoid him.
“I’m sorry. Whatever it was.”
“No.” Eyes pooling, she swallowed hard. “It’s me who should be apologizing.” Hand on his forearm, she managed, “I do need to get to my class, but—”
“If that’s the case—you being in the wrong—make it up to me by going with Betsy, Bonnie and I to the state fair Wednesday night.”
“I couldn’t,” she said. “I’m sure the girls have been looking forward to it and the last thing they’d want would be for their teacher tagging along.”
Clearing his throat, Dallas reminded her, “Weren’t you just telling me how I should be the grown-up? I want you to come. Plus, what better place for you to show me how to be the best possible dad.”
“Dallas, thank you, but no.” Edging around him, she’d almost made it through her door, only all of his work with calf wrangling had finally paid off in that he was a fraction of a second faster.
“Wrong answer. Agree to help me or when the girls show up for school on Thursday, they’ll be so hopped up on cotton candy and caramel apples it may take you the rest of the week to get them off the ceiling.”
She might’ve crossed her arms, but her frown showed signs of cracking.
“Worse yet,” he persisted, “with me in charge, they might run wild, letting loose all of the livestock and pitching gum at all of the rides. It could damn well turn into an international incident.”
Rolling her eyes, laughing but somehow not looking happy, she finally relented. “Okay, I’ll go. But only because at this point, you sound as if you need more help than your girls.”
“HOW ARE YOU?” NATALIE asked the Wednesday afternoon before the fair, during their biweekly spa pedicures and manicures. The Korean family who ran the place spoke just enough English to do business, making it the perfect place for indulging in nice, long talks. “And I don’t mean your polite version.”
“Not going to lie…” Josie winced while her calluses were pumiced. “It was a rough weekend. Everything I did brought back painful memories of Emma.”
“You should’ve called me.” Natalie lightly rubbed Josie’s forearm.
“I know, but I should be over it, you know? I don’t mean forgetting my daughter, but at least being able to cope.”
“What do you think brought this on?”
“No thinking involved. I can pinpoint the exact second it started. You know the disaster Friday turned out to be with the Trouble Twins, right?”
“Yes…” Nat grimaced.
“Well, out of the blue Friday night, Dallas called. Wanted me to meet him at the diner for coffee.”
“Dallas Buckhorn? As in the most gorgeous man on the planet?” her friend interjected.
Josie laughed. “He’s not that good-looking. And, anyway, would you just let me finish my story?”
“For the record—yes, he is that gorgeous. Though his brother Cash inches him out for the world title by a fraction, but please, do continue.”
Loving her friend for making her laugh, Josie hit the high points of what’d happened, closing with, “All of his parenting questions made me think about Emma’s silly tantrums and then about Hugh, and when Dallas asked why my parents were so far away in Maine, I lost it.” Hands over her face, Josie forced a few deep breaths. “I hardly know the man. The last thing I wanted to share with him was how devastating it is to me that my own parents—people I thought were in my corner—moved half a continent away to avoid me.”
“That’s so not true. Your mom’s geographically closer to your brother and his wife and kids. They begged you to go.”
Meeting her friend’s gaze, Josie’s mind flashed on her daughter’s grave in the Weed Gulch cemetery. “You and I both know I’m not going anywhere.”
“Josie…”
“Don’t start on me.”
“I’m not. Promise. I only wish you’d—”
“What cullah?” her nail technician asked.
Josie handed her a bottle of OPI’s Candy Apple Red. To her friend, she said, “Did I mention Dallas asked me to go with him and his girls to the fair?”
“No, but I’m liking the sound of that. Getting right back on the dating horse. Good girl.”
“It’s hardly a date. The man needs my help and for my sanity, I need Bonnie and Betsy to chill.”
“I WANT THAT GORILLA NOW!” Betsy punctuated her demand with a scream loud enough to make several passersby cover their ears while still others looked on not sure whether to call police.
“She really wants that gorilla, Dad.” Bonnie, looking like a pint-size forty-year-old, calmly met his gaze.
“I’ll try again,” Dallas mumbled in front of a carnie’s milk bottle game. “But I’m pretty sure these things are weighted.”
“Daddy, I want it!” Betsy screamed.
Josie cleared her throat. “Not to butt into your business, but this would be a perfect time to drag Betsy away from here, explaining why she can’t always have her way.”
“You think?” Eyebrows raised, the man honestly appeared stunned by her suggestion. “She really wants it.”
“I’d love a new Lexus, but that doesn’t mean I’m getting one any time soon.” Kneeling in front of the child, Josie took hold of her flailing hands. “Betsy, hon, I know the gorilla is pretty cool, but we’re going to go look at some real animals. I heard there’s a baby giraffe in the petting zoo.”
“Gorillas are waaay better.” Bonnie shoved a wad of cotton candy into her mouth.
“I—” sniffle “—still—” sniffle “—want—” sniffle “—him.”
“Listen up, princess.” Dallas hefted the girl into his arms. “Miss Josie is right. Let’s head over to the real animals. If you’re good, we’ll get snow cones.”
“O-okay.”
While Dallas’s new promise at least provided temporary calm, throbbing rock from the midway combined with temperatures in the muggy high-eighties proved not a good combination when Josie was already worn out from a tough day at school.
The petting zoo was more quiet, but also more frenzied with dozens of little bodies darting in all d
irections.
“Want to find an out-of-the-way bench?” Dallas asked.
“Sounds perfect.”
While Josie found a seat, Dallas purchased feed for the girls, instructing them to stay within the fenced area.
“Feels good to take a load off,” he said, gazing toward his daughters who giggled while tiny goats nuzzled grain pellets from their palms. “Ready?”
“For what?” she asked with a sideways glance, trying to ignore tingly awareness on the side of her body where their thighs and shoulders brushed. She’d forgotten his size. How just being around him filled her with the sense that whatever happened—aside from kid disasters—he’d be in control.
“To tell me what was wrong Friday night?”
Her stomach sank. “Why do you care?”
“You’re spending all of this time helping me with the twins, yet aside from buying you a half-dozen fried Twinkies, I’ve done nothing for you.”
“First, I only had two Twinkies, thank you very much. Second, what’s bugging me has nothing to do with you.” Looking at her fresh manicure, she traced the outline of her cuticle. Maybe if she tried hard enough to avoid Dallas’s probing gaze, he’d get the hint that she didn’t want to share certain portions of her personal life.
“Sure? Because it wouldn’t be the first time I ticked a woman off. The few times my mom’s book club have tried fixing me up on blind dates they’ve ended in disaster.”
Who wouldn’t like you? was the first thing that entered her mind. Beyond his looks, Dallas was funny and hardworking and well-mannered. Had she been remotely interested in giving the whole relationship game another try, he would certainly be a prime candidate. But her last weeks with Hugh had been a nightmare. He’d single handedly taken everything she thought she’d known about love and turned it upside down.
“Once, ten minutes into our date, I asked a woman if her hair hurt.”
“Why would you do that?” The question provided the perfect opportunity to angle away from him, giving herself space to breathe. Even over the barn’s perfume of straw and manure, Dallas smelled of leather and citrus and sun. Like the kinds of outdoor adventures she’d never take.
The Rancher's Twin Troubles (The Buckhorn Ranch Book 2) Page 5