by West, Everly
Two sets of brown eyes grew large as they stared at her, their mouths hanging open.
Shocked, they didn't expect her reaction and that's what she had to do, always keep them guessing or at least one step ahead of them.
"Now, we're ready," she said, smiling. "Since someone kept kicking me in the butt, I decided that meant you boys wanted me to ride back here with you.”
"George did it," Paul said.
"No, I did not," George said.
"I'd guess you both were hitting my seat with your feet. Doesn't matter. Now, here we are riding along, all of us in the back and your father has to sit alone."
That brought a giggle from the kids. "Are you in school yet?"
This was her time to get to know the twins and find out if she wanted to be their stepmother. It was one thing to marry a man, but quite another to take on two children to raise. Especially, known troublemakers.
"No," they both responded. "Don't want to go to school."
"Yes, I didn't want to go either. But I met so many other kids. We played games, drew pictures, and the teacher would read to us. Sure, we had to work learning everything, but school was fun."
The twins stared at her with interest.
"We like to play games," George said. "What kind of games did you play?"
From his expression, the boy appeared curious, yet also leery. He didn't want to believe that school could be more than just learning.
"If I tell you, then it wouldn't be a surprise. My favorite outside game was dodge ball. My favorite inside game was checkers."
"The teacher lets you play checkers," Paul asked, stunned.
"Yes, do you like to play checkers?"
"Oh, yes, especially when I win."
"Nobody likes to lose," she said.
Moving to the back of the wagon had shocked the boys. They gazed at her in awe, but she didn't think she'd won the war yet. That was the first skirmish and there would be more ahead if she chose to marry Milton. What was she thinking?
This was not what she wanted in her life. The urge to jump out and run home almost overwhelmed her, but she managed to remain calm.
As the wagon slowed, the kids glanced around. "Is this where we're stopping?" Paul asked.
Before she could stop him, George jumped to the ground before the wheels stopped rolling.
"Look at the river," he said, running toward the water.
A little more cautious, Paul waited until the wagon came to a halt before he climbed down. "Let's eat."
"Grab your brother and bring him back from the river. We'll eat soon."
Paul ran off to find George, and she gazed at Milton.
"Didn't I warn you about them? But I had no idea they were kicking you and I apologize."
With a laugh, she shook her head, the verdict was still out on whether or not she wanted to become a mother of twins. "Come on, they're kids. And you're right, they are ornery children, but hopefully I passed the first test."
At least she had beaten them at their game for now. The wind blew her hair and shoved a tendril she behind her shoulder.
He glanced at her. "With flying colors."
"That doesn't mean I'm in for forever," she said as he grinned at her. "At this point, I'm still assessing the situation."
"No, but that doesn't mean you're out either," he replied.
Reaching out, he touched her hand and pulled her against him. Their bodies fit together, and she liked the way his molded against hers. Stunned, she stared at him as a tremor of awareness scurried up her spine.
The twins came running back to them.
"Ewww...they're going to kiss," one of them whispered.
The two of them broke apart with a start as she reached into the wagon. "Here's a blanket. You boys decide on where we're going to eat. Make certain there are no ant beds where you lay the blanket."
Given a job, the two kids took off looking for the perfect location, leaving Jennie alone with Milton. There seemed to be an easy atmosphere between them. Could he be her husband? After all, he told her she could still pursue her pleasures.
"That will keep them busy for five minutes," Milton said as he reached into the wagon and grabbed the basket of food.
"They're active little boys," she said, thinking if this was something she would even consider? Two trouble-making kids and a father who didn't have much control over them.
"What happened to their mother," she asked, wondering if the children would be different with a woman guiding them. Would Milton tell her about his dead wife?
"She died when they were babies," he said. Turning, he yelled at the twins who were fighting over the location instead of doing what she asked.
"George," he called. "Paul. Enough. Just spread the blanket on the ground."
The boys giggled and continued their antics, not paying their father a bit of attention.
Unaware of her, she walked over and took one side of the blanket from George. "Excuse me, I asked you boys to do a simple job and you're not capable of taking direction. Do you want dessert?"
"Yes," they said in unison.
"Put the quilt down now, so we can eat. Or you can continue, and your father and I will have our picnic in the wagon without you."
"I'm hungry," Paul said. "Let's eat."
With a quick glance at Milton, they finished spreading the blanket, and she dropped down onto the ground. Opening the basket, she pulled out china plates, silverware and napkins. Just as she reached the food, George stuck his hand in the basket and tried to seize the fried chicken. Her fingers snaked around his wrist, and she yanked his hand out.
"Sit back and wait for me to fix yours," she said. "It's not polite to grab."
Shocked, the little boy sat back and pouted. The other twin, Paul's eyes widened in disbelief. She prepared a plate and handed it to Milton. "Here you go."
Then she fixed Paul's and gave it to him. Finally, she delivered George his food. "Enjoy."
A mischievous smile crossed his face as he took the plate from her and dumped the food in her lap. Rage radiated through her as the chicken and salad soaked into her dress. Why the little hellion.
"George, that was rude," Milton said. "Go to the wagon. You'll skip dinner for your behavior."
The boy grinned at her and rose from the blanket. Bringing order and discipline to two spoilt little boys’ lives might be a monumental task.
Jennie picked the food off her skirt and licked her fingers. "Really good chicken."
A giggle came from Paul. "You're eating George's food."
"Why not? It would be a shame to let it go to waste. Don't you think?"
The kid laughed and Jennie hoped the stain would come out of her dress. While they ate, she realized these two little ruffians needed a mother. These boys needed someone to guide and show them their behavior was not acceptable. Did she want to take on this challenge?
A quick glance from beneath her lashes, she stared at Milton. The man was handsome as sin on Sunday morning. His emerald eyes spread warmth through her like warm honey, sweet and delicious.
As she handed out the desserts, she heard the wheels of the wagon begin to roll.
Whirling around, they all turned to see George sitting in the driver’s seat, with the reins in his hand, urging the animal to go. The child expertly maneuvered the horse down the road.
With a growl, Milton jumped up and began to run after the boy. "Stop. George, stop this instant."
The little boy paid him no heed as the horse and wagon picked up speed headed back to the house.
"Looks like we're going to be walking," Jennie said. "I just hope George is safe."
* * *
Milton ran as fast as he could after the wagon, but the mare trotted down the road. "George, pull back on the reins. Stop."
His son turned and glanced at him and smiled that mischievous grin that he knew meant he would disobey him. Why didn't his children mind him? The little hellion could be killed if the horse spooked and turned the wagon over.
Finally, he stopped unable to catch them as the vehicle disappeared over the hill. Exhausted, he stood in the dust, fear clutching his insides. As much as his sons gave him grief, he loved them and didn't want harm to befall either of them.
The sound of a child crying had him glancing down the path. Jennie and Paul walked toward him. Her dress was splattered with food where George dumped his lunch. Paul's tear-stained cheeks made his chest ache, but Jennie spoke low to him. The nearer they came, he watched her trying to calm the boy.
"Eventually, someone will see him and stop the mare," she said. "We need to pray that God will keep him safe. Sometimes rules are in place to keep you from harm. You're way too young to try to control a big horse."
Now, that was funny. The rule breaker was telling his son rules were made to protect them. Did she hear what she was saying?
"Is George going to be all right?"
"I hope so," she said.
"Papa," Paul said and ran to him. "Did you stop George."
Unable to avoid the emotions flooding him, he picked up Paul and held him tightly. These two little human beings caused him so much grief, yet he loved them so very much. "No, he didn't listen to me and I couldn't catch the horse."
"How are we going to find our way back to town," the boy asked.
With a sigh, Milton gazed at Jennie. "What do you want to do? Walk or stay here with Paul and wait for me? We're about two miles from your parents’ ranch."
The thought of going off and leaving her here alone left him uneasy, but he would do whatever would please her. The day had been ruined by his son and she would probably never want to see him again.
"Let's walk," Jennie said. "Hopefully one of the hands will find George and realize something's happened. Maybe they can catch him."
"If he stays on the road," Milton said as he set Paul down and they each took his hand.
The child looked at Jennie and Milton. "This is kind of fun. We never had a momma."
The woman continued walking as she smiled down at the boy. "Tell me, after you kicked me in the behind, George dumped food on me and took off with our ride, do you think I want to become your mother?"
The kid licked his lips. "It was George's idea. He said you would be just like our nannies."
"And how many of those have you run off?"
How Milton wished he didn't have to tell her, though she needed to understand the truth about his sons. Especially if she became their mother.
The little boy shrugged.
"Five," Milton said, glancing at her. "The first ones lasted the longest. But once they turned three, we've gone through four nannies. The last one they tied up and were playing Indian with her."
A laugh rippled from Jennie. "You know trouble seems to find me as well."
The kid gazed at her, his eyes filled with adoration, and Milton felt a little jealous. His son was experiencing his first crush.
"Did you get a spanking?"
With a shake of her head, she smiled. "No, I'm too old for spankings. But my mother keeps threatening to send me to a convent."
"What's a convent?" Paul asked, looking at his father.
How did he explain this to a five-year-old? "A place where women live and worship God."
The boy's forehead wrinkled. "Why can't they do that in church on Sunday?"
"Yes, but there they worship him every day, all day long. Their focus is their life with the Lord."
The little boy walked along between them. "Sounds boring. Can I have a drink?"
Milton realized the blanket, the basket of food, everything, Jennie carried. She dug inside and found a cantina. "Here you go. Don't drink too much."
The boy frowned and gazed at her. "Why?"
"So the water doesn't make you sick. It's hot out here."
A fly buzzed her dress and Milton reached over and took the blanket and the basket from her. "Let me carry those things."
"I'm tired," Paul said. "My feet hurt, and I don't want to walk anymore."
"Consequences," Jennie said. "When your brother took off in the wagon, he left us stranded. That wasn't nice, was it?"
A sigh came from the child. "Nope. What is conse--"
While Milton knew she was trying to teach his son, and he liked her simple explanation, but his stomach was tight with worry. Where was George? The tracks indicated the wagon rolled on toward the ranch. By now he should be close to Jennie's family’s home.
And he prayed they would stop the boy and this time George would not escape punishment.
"Come on, we still have a long way," Milton said, knowing the evening sun would be setting before they arrived.
"Papa, is George in trouble?"
"What do you think?"
He glanced down at his son, who sighed. "I think he's going to get a butt whipping."
Shaking his head, he gazed at Paul. "The two of you probably scared Miss Jennie away. No doubt, she won't be doing a picnic with us again and as for becoming your mother, don't count on that happening."
Paul squeezed his hand as he stared at him. "Is that what you wanted, Papa?"
Knowing his son had placed him in a predicament, he glanced over to see Jennie grinning. "Yes, I think so. Jennie would make you boys an excellent mother."
A stubborn expression came over Paul's face as he stared at Jennie. "If we were good, would you be our mother?"
A laugh came from deep within her as she smiled down at the boy and gazed at Milton. "That depends on your father. In order to marry me, he will need to prove that he loves and wants to spend forever with me. That's how marriage works."
While her response should have filled him with happiness, the sentiment only made him wary. Because Milton had no intention of falling in love with another woman and taking a chance on having more children. Love would not be a factor when he married again. No, this time it would be so his sons had the mother they needed.
"Are we there yet?"
An hour later, relief and anger rushed through him like a flood when they walked around the house and the horse and wagon were parked in front of Jennie's parents. As they hurried up the steps, her mother came running out. "Thank God, you're all right. This poor child was driving all alone and we didn't know what to think."
At this moment, Milton didn't know how Jennie was feeling as she gazed at her mother. "That poor child is going to feel the switch on his backside for leaving us behind."
Her mother's eyes widened, and she stared at Jennie and saw the food on her dress. "Looks like the picnic was interesting."
Jennie shook her head. "Paul needs a glass of water, Mother."
"Where's my son?" Milton asked.
"In the house, eating cookies," she said.
"Not any longer, he's not," Milton said, marching inside.
Anger drove him to all but run through the house, wondering why was he a parent? Why hadn't his wife lived to help raise these boys? Now Jennie had seen them at their absolute worst, would she even consider seeing him again? Very slim chance.
When he saw his son, he wanted to hug him, hold him and tell him don't ever scare him again, but now was not the time.
He grabbed George by the arm and pulled him out of the kitchen and through the house. Still holding his arm, he walked the boy out the door. "Get in the wagon. We're going home."
In disbelief, he watched Paul double up his fist and punched George. "Thanks to you, we had to walk for miles and miles."
"Ow," George said. "Papa, he hit me."
The look Milton gave him shut the kid up. "Unless you want two spankings, you better be in that wagon."
Walking beside Jennie, he gazed at her. "I'm sorry this didn't go as planned."
A grin spread across her face. "Your boys are challenging."
There were so many other words she could use to describe his sons. "After today, I'm sure you're not going to want me to call again and I understand."
"How about on Friday," she said with a mischievous smile. "Without the children."
S
tunned, he stared at her in shock and would have kissed her right there in front of the children, if not for her mother standing back watching their every move.
"Friday. We'll go to dinner, just the two of us," he said.
"See you then," she said, giving him a wink, which caused his heart to stutter. "You better go, they're fighting."
With a sigh, he turned in time to see George give Paul a punch.
"Bye, boys," Jennie called. "Enjoy your spankings."
They stopped and glanced at her as Milton marched toward his wayward sons. What could he say? She was right, they needed discipline.
* * *
Jennie stood in her bedroom, letting her mother comb her hair. "Leave my hair alone."
"No, I'm going to use the curling rod on it, now hold still," Minnie said as she ran the hot iron through her hair.
"Mother, you're going to burn my hair and then I'm going to be mad. Stop and leave it alone," Jennie said. A part of her was excited and yet nervous.
"Are you certain you should date this man?"
The comment went over Jennie like a firestorm in winter.
Jerking around, she stared at her mother, standing there with the curling iron in her hand. "After you invited him to dinner and introduced us, you're questioning your own decision?"
"His children are hellions. My wish is for all my girls to be happy. I just want to make certain you're well taken care of. What I'm trying to say is I'm not convinced Milton is right for you."
Whirling back around, she faced the mirror. The kids did give her reason to doubt seeing Milton, but the man would let her continue going to the gambling hall. How many husbands would allow their wives to step into such a place?
"I don't know either, Mother. He's handsome, I like him, he's charming to be around. But I'm in no hurry. I'm not an old maid. Why does a woman need to marry?"
A gasp escaped her mother. "That comment is all I needed to hear. If a woman doesn't have a man looking out for her...well, the very worst things could happen."
She stared at her mother in the mirror and frowned. "Like what? Tell me what are the worst things that happen to women? Help me understand why you think marriage is so important?”
With a sigh, her mother leaned down close to her ear. "Do not say anything to your younger sister about this. Someday we will not be here to take care of you girls and if there is no money, you would be enslaved into..."
