Tina Leonard: The Texas Ranger's Twins

At the door of the bedroom, he stopped in his tracks. On his bed lay Suzy, her two little angels sleeping soundly beside her. Well, they weren’t angels, they were more like time bombs, he reminded himself, backing into the hallway. Set to explode his world, drawing him in with their cherubic faces. Tingles ran over his arms. He allowed himself to give Suzy a thorough, yet lightning-fast once-over, avoiding the pink-wrapped dolls beside her.

“Holy smokes, that was close.” He went down the hall, placed the firewood in the stacker in the smaller bedroom. What the hell was she doing in his room? On his bed? She couldn’t stay there, that was for certain. Somehow he was going to have to explain to her that she just couldn’t fall asleep on the job, cushy employment though it was, in the first available reclining apparatus she came upon. His bed should be his domain—and anyway, hadn’t she already read him the riot act about how she was never stepping in his room?

His heart thundered in his chest. Pop stayed in France almost year-round, giving the boys a lot of time to gnash their teeth over his wily proposal. Dane was proud that he’d been wilier. Pop believed that money would buy love, like castles in France and sandboxes in the Caribbean, but Dane knew money and love were not always good bed partners.

Dane intended to tell Goldilocks when she awakened that his bed was not “just right” for her. She could just stick that in her proverbial little pipe and move into a smaller, less-appointed chamber.

No. Sighing, he knew he wouldn’t do that. There were three of her family and only one of him. Besides, he could be a gentleman if it was absolutely required, and in Suzy’s case, it probably was. Besides, he didn’t actually need the gold-outfitted bidet and tub Pop had in his master bath; he didn’t need the slipper sofa by the hearth, nor the lush rugs underfoot surrounding the massive canopied bed. One of the other starker, less decked-out rooms would be fine for him—like this one.

Restlessly he rose to light a fire in the small fireplace. The tinder caught slowly, the cold, damp logs reluctant to take the heat.

He realized that no matter how much he fought it, staying on the ranch for a year was not going to be the easiest assignment he’d ever had. He’d talked himself into this “cream puff” of a situation, but Pop would certainly laugh if he saw him now, cowed into a small bedroom and padding around with clean, silent feet, all thanks to Pop and his Grandchildren Conspiracy.

In the morning, Suzy was awakened by her children stirring. Nicole gently touched her mother’s face. Sandra waved a tiny hand at some sunlight streaming into the room. Suzy smiled, enjoying the gentle wake up. “You must be getting hungry,” she told her girls, and then realized they had slept the entire night in the house without any incident concerning Dane Morgan. “This is going to work just fine,” she said, putting on her clothes.

She helped her daughters dress, a slow process because they were at the age when they wanted to do things themselves. Their little fingers weren’t quite ready for pulling on tights to keep their legs warm, or brushing their own hair. Finally, they were all ready to leave the sanctuary of their bedroom and head into the kitchen.

“Hold my hands,” she told her girls. “We have to be very careful on these stairs.” She tiptoed by the other bedrooms on the hall in order to avoid a run-in with Josiah’s son, breathing much easier when she made it to the kitchen.

But the dark-haired, cold-eyed handsome stranger sitting at the table pulled a startled shriek from her. He jumped to his feet, spilling hot coffee on his hand and swearing a blue streak. Her daughters began to cry so she clutched them to her, glaring at the stranger. “Who are you?”

“Who are you?” he demanded. “You don’t live here.”

She raised her chin. “I do live here. And if you don’t leave right this instant, I’ll scream. There’s a man sleeping upstairs and he’ll come running down—”

The back door opened. “It’s durn cold out—” Dane stopped when he saw the scene in the kitchen. His gaze swept over her, registering her panic, and then went to the stranger. He calmly walked over to the sink to wash his hands.

Suzy gasped. “What are you doing?”

“Washing my hands to warm them up.” Dane smiled at her. “Is there a problem?”

She blinked. “Do you know this person?”

The man took off his hat, nodding to her. “My name’s Pete. I’m one of Dane’s brothers,” he explained. “I let myself in,” he said to Dane who merely nodded. “I apologize if I frightened you.” He gave Suzy what she supposed was a reassuring smile. “Dane says I unnerve him when I pop in, too. I didn’t realize he had company.”

“I am not his company,” Suzy said, stiffening. “I’m the housekeeper.”

Pete grinned hugely. “Pop,” he said to Dane. “He’s got you by the short—”

“Ah, let’s get some breakfast on the table,” Dane interrupted. “Is that in your job description?” he asked Suzy. “I’m not quite sure of all the parameters yet.”

These two were quite the pair. There was some unspoken joke going on between them, but Suzy was in no mood to guess what it was. “I cook for myself and my daughters,” she said, getting out a box of oatmeal. “You two are on your own.”

She waited for Dane to move away from the sink so she could fill a pot with water. He looked at the pot a trifle regretfully before turning to his brother.

“We’re still working out the kinks in this housekeeping thing,” he said, and Pete nodded.

“I see that.” Pete slouched into his chair and put his feet up on another one, making himself right at home. Suzy’s irritation rose, because, after all, it was his home and she hadn’t factored being in a house with one man much less two. But no one had been on the ranch in six months—surely both of these men weren’t planning on staying long.

“Hope I won’t be any trouble,” Pete said.

Suzy whirled to look at him, ignoring how fast her heart had begun to beat as she’d stood next to Dane at the sink. “Trouble?”

“Living here.”

Dane grinned. “Come to sweat it out for your share?”

Pete shrugged. His gaze went to Suzy for just an instant. “Hadn’t planned on it, but you two need a chaperone. Pop clearly didn’t consider that in his scheming, but I might be persuaded.”

Suzy’s daughters stared up at the big man, completely perplexed by the presence of two males. They hadn’t been around many, and the Morgan men had deep voices and large, masculine presences. Suzy decided to skip the chaperone comment and went straight to the ominous word in Pete’s analysis. “Scheming?”

“You know. To get you two to fall in love with each other.”

Suzy froze. “Are you implying that my job is nothing more than a sham? A cover to induce me into playing house with your brother so that we’d somehow end up together?”

Dane winced. “That might be putting it a bit bluntly—”

“Actually, I think she nailed Pop’s plan,” Pete said. “That seems to be the gist of it.”

“Now that we’re all feeling very awkward, why don’t we eat some oatmeal? Matters will probably seem less complicated on full stomachs.” Dane glanced longingly at the pot Suzy still held in her hand.

Suzy frowned. “Let me be perfectly clear on something. I am not here for anyone’s amusement. Nor did your father seem like the type to be so underhanded. I’m shocked you would suggest it,” she said to Pete. “And I’m annoyed that you don’t refute it,” she told Dane.

Both brothers shrugged.

“I think you two are troublemakers,” Suzy said, “and if you’re trying to run me out of this house to spite your father, a man I know neither of you got along with, I suggest you take your problems up with Mr. Morgan.” She took a deep breath, set the pot on the stove. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to feed my children.”