Her Twins' Cowboy Dad

by Patricia Johns

  “Want some?” Jane asked.

  “Yeah, that would be great,” he said, holding out his plate.

  “No!” Micha said reproachfully. “Nigh-nigh!”

  Jane sprayed a fluffy coil of whipped cream onto his crisp, and then did the same for her own.

  “Come have a bite,” Jane said to her daughters, sinking into the couch next to Colt, and the girls were placated with mouthfuls of crisp.

  “The whipped cream helps.” Colt smiled, then turned his attention to his plate.

  Jane smiled back and took another bite. It did help—a simple sweet treat could cover over a whole multitude of awkward mistakes. She was going to have to start fresh in every other aspect of her life, so maybe she could start over with Colt, too.

  He was family. If her girls were going to have a relationship with their dad’s side of the family, then she needed him.

  * * *

  Colt watched as Jane fed Micha a bite of her crisp, Jane opening her mouth in an unconscious mimic of her child. Mother and daughter smiled into each other’s eyes.

  “Yummy?” Jane said. “It’s good, right?” Then she turned to Suzie, her fork held aloft. “Open... Mmmm. Yummy, right?”

  It was such an ordinary moment, but Jane glowed in a special way when she was talking to her little girls. It was like they lit up a place inside her that no one else could touch, and he had a hard time tearing his gaze away. She tucked her veil of dark hair behind her ear, a small golden earring sparkling in the sunlight that flooded in from the living room window. He hadn’t noticed those earrings before...

  He tore his gaze away from it. He had to keep his feet on the ground here.

  “Tomorrow is Sunday,” Colt said quietly.

  “That’s right. It is.” Jane looked over at him.

  “Are you a churchgoer?”

  “I normally am,” Jane said. “When I can get there. Everything’s more complicated with twins.”

  “Yeah, I could see that.” He cleared his throat. “I go every week, myself. So... I’d be going tomorrow. If you want to come along, I’d be happy to drive you. It’s just a little church on a side road—not so easy to find if you don’t know where you’re going.”

  “Yes, that would be nice.” She smiled. “Thanks, Colt.”

  He felt gratified to know he could do something for her—make this a bit easier.

  “Sure. No problem.”

  Colt realized he was looking forward to this, probably more than he should. The thing was, he cared for Jane. She was a good woman, and she deserved better than any of them could offer. A good woman couldn’t fix a broken family.

  “Supper.” Peg’s tart voice snapped his attention away from Jane, and he rose to his feet.

  “Right. Thanks, Peg,” he said, but when his aunt looked at him, she raised an eyebrow just a little and he felt some heat hit his face. No doubt she was jumping to all sorts of conclusions right now.

  But Colt wasn’t trying to start something with Jane. If anything, he was trying to protect her. He could say that he was doing it for Josh, but he wasn’t. He was doing this for himself—and if he could do well by Jane, when she went back to her life, here was hoping he wouldn’t be filled with regrets.

  Supper consisted of some dry meatloaf that was salvageable with ketchup on top. The potatoes were quite good, though, and the boiled veggies were downright passable with some butter melting on top of them. Overall, it wasn’t too bad and Colt was too hungry to chew too much anyway.

  When Jane took the toddlers to brush their teeth, Colt stayed at the table, his elbows planted in front of him. Peg rose to her feet and started gathering plates.

  “Leave that,” Colt said. “I’ll take care of it.”

  “I won’t complain about that,” Peg said and she smiled. She paused with her hands on the back of her chair. “She’s nice, isn’t she?”

  “Jane?” he asked, as if there were anyone else for Peg to be commenting on.

  Peg smiled but didn’t look fooled. “I don’t like just anyone, but she’s...decent. A good mother, too.”

  “Yeah, well...” Colt wasn’t sure what he could say to that, so he picked up the plates and brought them to the counter. He turned back to see his aunt heading out of the kitchen. “Peg?”

  She turned around. “Hmm?”

  “Why did Beau leave me the ranch?” he asked.

  “You know why,” she said with a shake of her head. “You wanted to actually ranch this land. Josh didn’t.”

  “I wanted this,” Colt admitted quietly. “I really wanted it.”

  “And that makes you feel guilty,” Peg concluded.

  He looked over at the older woman, then shrugged helplessly. “I was the nephew. I shouldn’t have been put in the will ahead of Josh. We all knew that. Beau was wrong.”

  “Beau was wrong about a lot of things,” Peg replied. “You know how he was. He was so determined that Josh do things his way that he couldn’t see past his own ideas. He’d always been like that. You were more like him.”

  “I’m not sure that’s a compliment,” Colt said bitterly.

  “You know what I mean,” Peg said, softening her tone. “You loved the land. You wanted to raise cattle. You wanted to keep this ranch in the family, and that meant a lot to Beau. He wished Josh could have been more like you.”

  “It tore Josh and me apart,” Colt said. “That stupid will...”

  “That stupid will has put you in a very good position,” Peg countered. “You wanted to ranch, and now you own your own land. That’s something some men can only dream of. Be grateful that he gave it to you, and not someone else. Because Josh wasn’t getting this land.”

  “When Josh found out about the will, he came and asked me to talk to his dad with him,” Colt confessed. “He asked me to tell Beau that I didn’t want to own the land. That I liked things as they were.”

  “But you didn’t like it,” Peg replied. “You were working long hours, you were getting paid a fair wage, but it wasn’t much. And you wanted more for your life than to be working for your uncle, and later your cousin.”

  “I could have gone elsewhere,” he conceded.

  “Listen, Colt. You had someone offer you a ranch of your own, and you jumped at it,” Peg said. “I can’t say that I blame you. No one does.”

  “If I hadn’t jumped at it, Josh might have stuck around,” he countered.

  “You couldn’t have known,” Peg replied.

  “That doesn’t make it any less my fault,” he replied quietly. “Beau offered me what I wanted most, and I sacrificed my relationship with my cousin to get it.”

  “Even if you’d told him you didn’t want it, Beau might have still left the ranch to you,” Peg said quietly. “He loved you, Colt. You were a cowboy at heart, and he understood how you ticked. You loved the dirt under your boots in the same way that he did. You cared about the ranch, the cattle, the legacy of this place. That was more than he could say about Josh. He loved his son, too, but he didn’t understand him. Josh was cut from different cloth than you and Beau were. Was that a tragedy? Of course. But you can’t blame yourself for all the ways Beau failed as a father. Your uncle loved you. I’m sorry that his love came at such a high price.”

  Colt stuck the plug in the sink and turned on the water. “Thanks, Peg. You’re probably right.”

  Peg stood still by the doorway, watching him as he squirted dish soap into the water and piled dishes on the counter next to him. He glanced back at her. Worry creased her lined face, and she tapped one hand against her arm testily.

  “We all just do our best, Colt,” she said after a moment. “Age doesn’t give any great wisdom. You young people expect us to have the answers, but we don’t. Sometimes we mess up royally, like Beau did. But I knew he meant well.”

  “It’s not enough, though, is it?” he said. “Josh
is still dead.”

  Peg sighed. “One day you’ll be old, too, Colt. And you’ll understand then. It won’t matter what the younger generations expect from you, you’ll only be able to be yourself. With all your limitations intact.”

  “You think I should forgive Beau,” he said.

  “Yes,” she said simply. “And while you’re at it, I think you should forgive yourself.”

  Peg turned and left the room, and Colt stood motionless for a moment, her words sinking in. Maybe she was right. Wasn’t this what he’d been saying all along—that he couldn’t change who he was or the family he’d come from? Even age didn’t seem to improve what this family could offer.

  Beau had messed things up, but that could just as easily be Colt. Listening to Jane talk, Josh was just as screwed up as the rest of them. So why did this bother him afresh? He’d already decided not to inflict himself on a wife and kids.

  But it did bug him. Because now when he allowed himself a tiny glimpse of a future with a family, he found Jane’s face in his mind. And that was ridiculous. She’d already been let down by one man in this family, and Colt couldn’t claim to be any better.

  Lord, keep me grounded, he silently prayed.

  Colt’s cell phone rang, and he dried his hands then picked it up.

  “Yeah,” he said.

  “Colt? This is Bruce Armson, up the road.”

  “Bruce,” Colt said. “How are you?”

  “Not bad. How are you holding up?” Bruce asked.

  “I’m okay. I’ve inherited the ranch, if you hadn’t heard.”

  “I did, actually,” Bruce admitted. “Word travels fast. Your uncle made the right choice, in my opinion. I was calling because I have a proposition for you.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “There’s a strip of land that butts up against mine, and I’ve wanted to own it for some time now. Beau never did want to sell, but I was wondering if you might be of a different mind than he was?”

  “Wait...” Colt mentally swept over the land in his mind. There was a strip of land between Bruce’s fields and a stream, and Colt was familiar with it. He’d spent a good amount of his boyhood on that land building a tree house with Josh. “I know the land you’re talking about, but I’m not sure I’m interested in selling it.”

  “I’m not looking to rip you off here,” Bruce said, and then named a price. Colt’s breath caught in his throat.

  “Say that again?”

  Bruce obliged. “What do you say?”

  It was enough money to pay Jane for the cattle. He wouldn’t have to accrue any more debt than he already carried, and that would be a real blessing right about now. It would solve his main problem, which was buying his cattle back from Jane. But he couldn’t quite agree to it—not yet.

  “I’ll have to think it over, Bruce,” he said. “But I’m thinking real seriously about it. Trust me.”

  “Glad to hear that. Call me when you’ve made up your mind either way.”

  “Will do. Take care now.”

  Colt hung up the phone and put it down on the counter next to him. He hadn’t been back to the tree house in more than a decade, and he wasn’t even sure what was left of it. But selling it—it felt like another betrayal.

  From deep in the house, he could hear a woman’s voice softly singing. He couldn’t make out the words, but he recognized a lullaby and he stopped short, listening. That would be Jane singing to her daughters, and the tune was so wistful and haunting that it seemed to wrap around his chest like a vise.

  Once upon a time, everything had been relatively simple. It had been him and Mom, and they’d taken care of each other. All he’d wanted was to make a little extra money so his mom wouldn’t have to worry about the bills so much. Just his daily bread—that’s what he’d prayed for.

  When he’d built that tree house with his cousin, they used to talk about the future they’d have when they were both man enough to make a difference. Colt’s dreams had all surrounded providing for his mother. He’d buy her a house one day. He’d get her a shiny pickup truck that wouldn’t break down. He’d pay all her bills so that she wouldn’t have to worry anymore. When he was grown up, his family would be different. His kids would be happy. He’d be nice to his wife...

  Now that Colt had this ranch, it wasn’t quite so simple anymore. He was in debt, his options were limited, and every choice he made seemed to bring him closer and closer to becoming just like his uncle. Sometimes a man didn’t choose a destructive path—sometimes he stumbled onto it without even realizing it. His boyhood longing to fix it all was just a naive fantasy. Now that he’d finally grown up, he’d simply joined the mess.

  Chapter Eight

  Jane dug through the suitcase and came up with two little matching church dresses. They’d been a baby shower gift, and when she’d seen the toddler sizes next to her tiny newborns, she’d thought they would never fit. Now she was grateful for the older woman’s foresight in including a few larger sizes in the pile of clothes she’d given Jane.

  “Whoops! Where are you going?”

  Jane jogged after Suzie, who’d made a diaper-clad escape down the hallway, and carried her back into the bedroom. She shut the door tightly behind her and put the toddler down next to her sister.

  “Time to get dressed for church,” Jane said. “Come here, Suzie. You first.”

  The dresses were almost too small on the girls. They seemed to be growing so fast that they could be into a dress and out of it again before they even managed to stain it. But looking down at the dresses that were a little snug around the chest already made her heart beat just a bit faster. She’d known that raising two kids at once would be expensive, but they cost even more than she’d imagined and the constant pressure to keep providing all the necessities was taxing.

  When the money came from the inheritance, would she dare use it for things like church dresses? Or would she be too cautious to touch it for anything less than the bed-and-breakfast? She didn’t know yet. She was still praying about that—she needed guidance. One thing was for sure, her own wardrobe could wait. The pink dress that she’d worn to the lawyer’s office was the best that she owned, and she wore it every week to church during the warm months.

  When Jane had finished dressing the girls, she opened the door and they both exploded into the hallway in a torrent of giggles and pattering feet. Jane could hear the shower going, and she could only assume that Peg was getting ready for church as well.

  The girls flung themselves onto the couch, where they climbed around and babbled to each other. Jane smiled at their antics and headed into the kitchen. All she wanted right now was a strong cup of coffee.

  The side door opened and Colt came inside just as she entered the kitchen. He tossed his hat onto a peg and sat down to pull off his boots.

  “Morning,” he said.

  “Good morning. I’m getting myself some coffee. Do you want some, too?”

  “Yeah, that would be great. Just black,” Colt said. “One of my ranch hands is hungover, so I had to pitch in with chores this morning.”

  “Hungover?” Jane said. “I’m sure that went over well.”

  “Yeah.” He chuckled. “I’d fire him if I had any wiggle room right now. As it is, I gave him a stiff warning, I’m docking him a day of pay and here’s hoping that will be deterrent enough.”

  “Sure hope so.” She poured two mugs of coffee and slid one toward him, then put some sugar into her own.

  “So, I got a call last night from a neighbor who wants to buy a stretch of land that butts up against his,” Colt said.

  Jane looked up. “Oh?”

  “I could pay you out pretty easily if I sold to him. That’s the good news,” Colt said, but there was a hesitant look in his eye. He took a sip of coffee, then put the mug down on the counter with a thunk.

  “And the problem?” she asked
.

  “It’s the land where we built that tree house.”

  Jane’s heart skipped a beat. She knew what that patch of land meant to Colt—he couldn’t sell it for her. She shook her head. “So you said no, right?”

  “I said I’d think about it real seriously,” he replied.

  “But you love that place,” she countered. “The memories—”

  “Sometimes a guy has to be practical,” Colt replied.

  And it wasn’t hers. She had no say. Jane heaved a sigh. “Josh said it had two levels and a rope swing.”

  “Yeah, it was pretty impressive.” He pursed his lips. “Or it seemed so back then. I’m sure if I see it again I’ll be less impressed with our feats of engineering.”

  “It’s not about that, though,” she said.

  “Back when we used to go out to the tree house and talk, our problems seemed fixable. We honestly thought there were solutions. Maybe I miss that youthful optimism.”

  Jane looked into the living room where her girls were still tumbling on the couch together. She was doing her best with them, but would they have similar childhood memories, longing to fix the stuff that she messed up?

  “It meant more to you than it did to Josh, didn’t it?” she asked.

  “I think so,” he admitted. “It’s different being the one left behind. My mom drove away. He might have fought with his dad, but his dad was still here. I guess I counted on Josh more than I realized back then. I probably counted on stuff like that tree house, because it was nailed down, and it wasn’t going anywhere. Not that I went out there much when I was older, but knowing it was still there helped in some weird way.”

  “Will you sell it?” she asked.

  “I don’t know.” He sighed. “I want to ride out and take a look at it again. I probably can’t really get around selling it, but I can at least see it one last time.”

  “Maybe your neighbor will let you visit the treehouse from time to time.”

  “Whether he does or not, before I sell, I need to go take a look at it. I’ll know what’s right once I see it again.”