Roxanne Rustand - Montana Mistletoe

Right now, caring for the girls and keeping his beloved grandmother out of that run-down senior housing project were more important than anything. And a day didn’t go by that the girls didn’t beg to get their puppy back from the neighbors—who had kindly taken him in when Betty got hurt and life turned upside down at the ranch.

Hiring Abby might be a temporary solution for all of those worries.

Yet, serious questions began piling up in Jess’s mind. Questions that would best be asked away from the twins’ all-too-curious ears. He’d already learned that they often heard things that he wished they hadn’t, then asked awkward questions at exactly the wrong times.

Abby’s father’s ranch was just thirty-five miles away. So why hadn’t he taken her in if she needed help? What had happened to her teaching career—and the man she’d married right after she broke up with Jess?

But more to the point...just what sort of trouble had she gotten herself into?

“Let’s discuss this tomorrow while the girls are in school,” he managed on a long sigh. He pulled a Broken Aspen Ranch business card from his wallet and handed it to Abby. “Maybe at Millie’s Coffee Shop, two o’clock?”

She nodded.

“Just so you know, I always have a background check done on anyone hired at the ranch. No exceptions.” Her eyes widened, and he realized how harsh his words must sound. “My lawyer insists on it.”

He’d known her since first grade. He’d loved her once. Imagining her capable of serious wrongdoing was like imagining the twins’ new puppy guilty of bank robbery.

But the day after their college graduation, Abby dumped him, and he’d learned a hard lesson. He hadn’t truly known her as well as he’d thought.

“What’s your last name now, by the way?”

“Halliday.” Her gaze met his briefly, then she turned to rest a hand on Betty’s arm. “Guess I might be seeing you later?”

“You will.” Betty snorted. “Don’t pay any attention to Jess. He’s had a tough time of it since I got laid up, but he won’t be this grumpy once he catches up on his sleep. I promise you that.”

* * *

Grumpy wasn’t exactly the word she’d use to describe Jess, Abby thought grimly as she carefully followed Betty and her cherry-red walker into the Langfords’ sprawling ranch house two days later. Then she got Betty settled in her room for a little nap.

The trip home had worn Betty out, though she’d staunchly insisted that she would close her eyes for a few minutes and then be rarin’ to go.

Unsure of what might happen job-wise after talking to Jess, Abby left her luggage in the trunk of her SUV; then, at Betty’s suggestion, she explored the house a bit.

From the kitchen, a wide arched doorway led into an open-concept dining room that flowed into a large living room with a massive stone fireplace and leather furniture. Oversize windows filled the living room with natural light.

One hallway off the living room led to Betty’s bedroom, the twins’ room, then several guest rooms and a large bathroom, while another hallway led to a south wing that probably held the ranch office and Jess’s quarters.

Abby glanced at her watch, made a pot of fresh coffee, then sat at the kitchen table with a cup of steaming brew and her ebook reader.

The promised meeting at the café hadn’t worked out yesterday—Jess had cancelled because of some ranch emergency—but said she might as well come on out today since her background check was fine.

What had he thought—that she might’ve been hiding criminal tendencies all the years they’d known each other?

At the sound of heavy boots clomping up the back-porch steps leading into the mudroom off the kitchen, she took a long swallow of coffee.

Maybe this wasn’t the most awful moment in her life, but it was definitely one of the most awkward. She’d never expected to see Jess Langford again. To be here as his potential employee was beyond imagination.

If she’d had any other viable option right now, she would have walked away from his condescending offer. But she’d scoured Pine Bend and the other tiny towns in the area to no avail.

Jess peeled off his heavy winter jacket and toed off his boots, then walked into the kitchen, giving her a brief nod on his way to the coffeepot. His face was somber, as if he, too, was finding this situation stressful and wanted to be anyplace but here.

“You look exhausted,” she said, taking in the weary expression etched on his lean, tanned face and the sag of his broad shoulders.

Even after all the years apart, she felt an unexpected urge to envelop him in a long, comforting embrace. “Hard day?”

He leaned against the counter on one hip. “A long one, and it isn’t over yet. Thanks for bringing Betty home, by the way. I didn’t expect to have a cattle buyer stop by.”

The deep, rich sound of his voice was as compelling now as it had been years ago. “No problem. So my background check was okay, apparently,” she said dryly.

He gave a faint shrug. “Figured as much. But with Betty and the girls here, well...I can’t afford another mistake.”

She regarded him with surprise. “Growing up in this area, I thought most folks in ranch country knew each other well, going back generations.”

“We once had to fire a ranch foreman. Do you remember Hal?”

Abby smiled. “I remember his daughter, Chloe. Sweet little girl—she followed your brother Devlin around like a puppy.”

Jess nodded. “Her dad was a nice guy, but then we discovered he had bottles stashed all over and was drinking on the job. I felt bad when we had to let him go, but we just couldn’t risk having him around the farm equipment.”

“Or hauling cattle down the highway.”

“Exactly. That was the last time this ranch will ever skip a background check and references—even for Mary Poppins.”

“Well, no one could argue with you being careful at hiring a nanny. You’re being a good father. Just as you should be.”

“About that...” He took a long slug of coffee and paused, apparently sorting out his thoughts. “The twins aren’t mine. Not yet, anyway. We have no idea what will happen.”

At his dark, pensive expression, Abby waited for him to continue. She’d guessed he was widowed or divorced, and the thought that he’d found someone who was the true love of his life, instead of her, had made her inexplicably sad. But the possibility that those little girls had suffered loss and uncertainty was much worse.

“I got a call from Child Protective Services in California last December,” he continued. “A neighbor reported that young children in the adjacent apartment had been crying all night and into the next day. The girls were only four at the time. The landlord and a CPS social worker found them cowering in a locked closet, scared to death. No one else was there.”

Abby closed her eyes, imagining their terror. “Those poor, sweet babies.”

“They were so traumatized that they couldn’t give any information, but they were hungry and dehydrated. The social worker suspected that they’d been alone for a good twenty-four hours.”

Abby stared at him, feeling more than a little sick.

“Apparently my cousin Lindsey arrived just after the CPS social worker did. She insisted that she’d left the girls with her boyfriend, and he’d never left them alone before. She actually seemed frightened when the social worker tried to pressure her into giving his name.”

Abby had seen more family dramas during her years as an inner-city teacher in Chicago than she’d ever thought possible, but it never failed to break her heart when helpless children suffered. “What a horrible situation.”

“The social worker told her she would be assigned a caseworker and insisted on taking the names of some relatives. She warned Lindsey about the possibility of an emergency removal of the children if things didn’t improve immediately. That’s why we were called—to verify that the girls could be sent here, if necessary.”