The Cowboy's Texas Twins

by Tanya Michaels

  “She did not say that!” The seventeen-year-old rebellious punk inside Grayson wanted to find Sissy’s address and toilet-paper her house. But then Grayson remembered he was supposed to be building a life for the boys here, not antagonizing pillars of the community.

  “Don’t worry, the mayor shut her down. And who cares what Sissy thinks of my personal life, right? But running in to Jim McKay on top of it didn’t help my mood.”

  Grayson’s memories of his aunt’s ex-boyfriend were indistinct. When Grayson had moved in with Vi, he’d been too preoccupied with anger and grief to bond with the man. A few months after Violet got custody of Grayson, the boyfriend had disappeared. She hadn’t wanted to discuss it then. Did she now?

  “In a town this size,” he said tentatively, “you must see him a lot.”

  “Occasionally. This is only the second time since his divorce, though. And it’s the first time he wanted to stop and chat.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “He wants to hire me to create a website. I told him I’d evaluate my current workload and be in touch tomorrow.”

  He closed the dishwasher. If her current work schedule was so unmanageable that she was turning down paying jobs, he needed to be careful that he and the boys weren’t eating up too much of her time. “If the twins or I are interfering with—”

  “Gray.” Her laugh was part amusement, part exasperation. “Don’t you recognize a flimsy excuse when you hear one? I told Jim that because I wanted to sleep on it before I make a decision. I was worried it might be awkward to work with an ex. What do you think?”

  It was difficult to relate because there was no one in his dating past he would have strong feelings about seeing again, no one he’d connected with that deeply. Miranda had once accused him of being afraid of relationships, but his short-lived romances were a function of his being on the road so much. Most women liked boyfriends who were available on special occasions and weekends.

  But this was about Vi. “How much would you really need to work with him?” he asked. “Don’t your customers email you information and images for updates? It seems like the personal contact would be minimal.”

  “It depends on the client. I always try to start with a face-to-face meeting, though, to make sure we’re on the same page. I need a sense of the image they want to project and I like to make sure they have realistic expectations about what I can do for them.”

  “Would it be difficult to sit through a meeting with him? Do you...still care about him?”

  “What? No! I mean, sure. I care about everyone in town—even Sissy Woytek. But Jim and I are ancient history. Prehistoric, even. The man was married for six years.” She went to the pantry. “I wonder if I have the ingredients to make brownies. Want some brownies?”

  He’d seen Violet cope with so much—her big sister’s disappearance, her father’s death, her sudden custody of a teenager. He knew how strong she could be, how calm in a crisis. It was surreal to see her flustered. Whatever her feelings for Jim McKay, the man had made an impact.

  “Vi, can I ask you a personal question? When I moved in, and you and Jim ended things...” Was it my fault? He’d taken up a lot of her time and he knew he’d curtailed any overnight stays; she wouldn’t have wanted to set that example for him. But the question caught in his throat. It was hard to ask when he feared the answer—assuming she would even tell him the truth. It would be in Violet’s nature to protect him with a reassuring lie. He cleared his throat. “I just never understood what happened.”

  She turned to put an arm full of baking supplies on the counter, not meeting his gaze. “Loving someone doesn’t automatically mean you’re compatible. Sometimes, relationships just don’t work out.”

  He didn’t invade her privacy by asking for specifics. Why bother, when she’d confirmed what he already knew? Though a noble goal, happy endings were rare. Otherwise, Jim and his wife wouldn’t be divorced now. Grayson’s mother wouldn’t have left his father. Violet’s own father, Grandpa Duncan, wouldn’t have had to bury his wife and stillborn son after she died during childbirth. And Blaine and Miranda...

  Grayson spent a lot of time in his truck alone, and sometimes those drives turned contemplative. It had struck him more than once as a shame that Violet, who had so much love to give, hadn’t found anyone special. But maybe she was too smart to open herself up to that. Why risk it? She set her own hours doing a job she loved, cultivated an active role in her community and owned three dogs who adored her unconditionally.

  Not a bad life, all in all. Especially when it included brownies.

  Chapter Five

  “Can we come, too?” Tyler asked.

  Grayson chuckled. “Sorry, but that’s not usually how a date works.”

  “What’s a date?” Sam asked, dragging a shovel behind him as he joined them at Grayson’s truck.

  “You have a date?” Tyler sounded disgusted.

  With an impatient sigh, his brother repeated his question. “What is a date?”

  “It’s where grown-ups kiss,” Tyler said.

  Violet, planting tomatoes in the raised garden bed, halfheartedly smothered a laugh.

  “There’s not going to be any kissing,” Grayson assured everyone. “I’m just taking Miss Hadley to lunch to thank her for being a job reference. But first I have to swing by the school and drop off your medical forms and records so that you two can go to kindergarten.” He’d questioned whether to even enroll them, with so little time left in the school year, but it would be nice if they made a friend or two before summer vacation.

  “Aw, man.” Tyler kicked a rock. “Why do we hafta go to school? I like it here. With the dogs and the dirt and Violet’s cookies.”

  “The dogs and dirt and cookies will be here when you get home from school each day,” Grayson said firmly. “But everyone has work to do. I have to get a job because I’m an adult, and you two have to go to class because you’re kids. Now be good for Violet while I’m gone. Help her plant lots of healthy vegetables for us to eat.”

  Tyler made a face.

  “You need vegetables to grow up big and strong,” Grayson added.

  Sam craned his head back, eyeing him. “Did you eat lotsa vegetables?”

  Another muffled snort of laughter from his aunt.

  “Hey,” he grumbled, “a little support here?” Truthfully, he was relieved by her amusement. She seemed in much better spirits today than she had been last night.

  As he climbed into the truck, he heard Tyler tell his brother suspiciously, “I don’t think Grayson ate his vegetables.”

  Grayson made a mental note to have a salad with lunch so he could return with tales of nutritional virtue.

  The town had changed so little over the years that driving to the school was like traveling in time. When he passed the road that led to his old house, a sharp punch of conflicted feelings hit him all at once. Before his mom left when he was seven, there’d been happy family memories. Normal kid stuff like birthdays and Christmases and learning to ride a bike in the driveway and blowing bubbles in the yard while his mother sang. But all of those memories were buried beneath the bitterness and unanswered questions that came with her abandonment. And, later, the stark terror he’d felt when a policeman and neighbor lady came to tell him about his father. Came to tell him he had no parents left.

  He wrenched himself out of the painful memories. Yesterday, he’d vowed to be more positive. No more dwelling on the past.

  Of course, that was easier said than done when he parked outside the same school he’d attended from kindergarten to fifth grade. Aside from newer playground equipment out by the bus lanes, it looked exactly as he remembered. How many times had he strolled along this very sidewalk in line with his classmates? He reached for the door, frowning when it turned out to be locked.

  He tried the door next to it, with the same result. A staticky voice asked, “Can I help y
ou, sir?” and he noticed the intercom panel. Well, that was a new addition.

  “I’m dropping off some enrollment papers,” he said, not sure where to look when addressing a disembodied voice.

  “One moment.” There was a click to signal the door was now unlocked.

  He stepped inside, turning left into the main office.

  The woman behind the desk nodded in greeting. “For future reference, just press the buzzer when you need to visit the school. We keep the doors locked for the children’s safety.”

  A depressing necessity. How was he going to explain, as Tyler and Sam got older, all the bad things that lurked in the world? There were other explanations that would fall to him, too. Like the sex talk. And Santa not being real. Probably not in that order. The responsibilities ahead were dizzying.

  “Sir?” The woman eyed him as though maybe she’d made a mistake letting him into the building. “You said you had enrollment papers?”

  “Oh, right.”

  She went through the thick manila folder that included immunization records, documents from the boys’ last school, proof of Grayson’s new Cupid’s Bow address and legal forms naming him the twins’ guardian. He felt bizarrely proud of himself when she deemed everything in order. She offered him a seat while he waited for the school counselor.

  Moments later, a freckled blonde who only stood as high as his shoulder introduced herself as Ms. Epperman. “But the kids call me Miss Tina.” She explained that, while there were two kindergarten classes, she and the teachers had decided to put the boys in the same class to ease their nerves about not knowing anyone. “If they’re nervous about anything here, I’m always available to talk. That offer extends to you, too,” she said gently. “It’s part of my job to discuss concerns with parents and I know this can’t be an easy situation for you.”

  “No, ma’am.” Her sympathy made him feel itchy and claustrophobic. He was glad when they left her office. She gave him a tour of the school that included a cafeteria that smelled strongly of fish sticks and a small library, which made him think fondly of Hadley and her poetry display.

  The closer it got to their lunch date, the more he looked forward to seeing her again. For the third day in a row. That was more often than he’d seen some of the women he’d slept with.

  Miranda’s accusation echoed in his head. “I say this with love, but you’re a coward when it comes to dating.”

  “I am not,” he’d protested. “It’s just difficult to settle into a relationship when you’re on the circuit.”

  “Pathetic excuse. Blaine made it work with me back when he was still riding.”

  “Yeah, well, your husband is special.”

  At that, her expression had softened, all criticism of Grayson’s love life forgotten. “He certainly is.”

  “Mr. Cox?” The guidance counselor peered up at him with concern. “Everything okay?”

  “I...got distracted thinking about lunch.” He gave her an apologetic smile. “Guess I’m hungrier than I realized.”

  “Good thing we’ve finished with the tour then.”

  They said their goodbyes, and he headed back to the truck, feeling as if he was being accompanied by ghosts.

  Would there come a day when memories of Miranda and Blaine grew less common, less vibrant? He wasn’t sure if he looked forward to that day or dreaded it.

  * * *

  HADLEY GRITTED HER teeth at the trio of women hanging around the circulation desk. Normally, she was thrilled to have patrons in the library, but she couldn’t help feeling these women were here for a reason other than books. Although her friend Kate Trent regularly brought her stepdaughters in for reading material, they were both at school now. According to Kate, she and her infant daughter were meeting her mother-in-law for lunch and had just stopped in to say hi...the very day that Hadley was expecting her own lunch date to walk through the door. Next to Kate were cousins Anita and Irene Drake. Anita leaned against the counter without even trying to be subtle, glancing from the clock on the wall to the doorway.

  Hadley glared at the back of Anita’s head. “Don’t you know a watched entrance never boils?” Why did I ever mention that I’m going out with Grayson?

  But she was afraid she knew the answer to that. When she’d arrived to book club last night, she’d been irate over a phone call yesterday evening. One of her old softball teammates had called to say she would be able to make the ten-year reunion after all and the woman had been a little too pitying about the fact Hadley hadn’t gone away to college like some of their friends. Hadley hung up feeling defensive about her life. Next weekend, she’d be hanging out with former classmates who’d married and were starting families, people who’d moved to other states and, in at least one case, another country.

  And here I remain, the local librarian. No kids, no husband, no boyfriend. Hell, she didn’t even have a cat.

  It was a little depressing, coming on top of a week where one of her friends had called her the Quiet One and her older sister had said she needed to work on her confidence. So she’d bragged to her friends that she’d invited a sexy cowboy to lunch. Technically, he’d invited her...but only after she put the idea in his head. That had to count for something.

  She cleared her throat. “I’m officially kicking you all out.”

  “What?” Kate looked startled.

  “You heard me. Either scatter and go find some books or go home. My life is not a spectator sport.”

  Kate sighed. “Okay, okay.” She glanced down at the baby sleeping in a sling she wore across the front of her body. “I should get to the restaurant anyway before she wakes up hungry. I can’t feed her while driving. Call me later with details, though?”

  “It’s a friendly lunch with a guy I went to school with. How exciting are you expecting the details to be?”

  “You’re a natural-born storyteller,” Kate said. “All anecdotes you share are exciting.”

  That mollified Hadley more than it should. She bit back a smile. “Suck-up.”

  The Drake cousins were more reluctant to go. Instead of following Kate outside, Irene suddenly remembered a book she wanted to look for, and Anita volunteered to help her find it. Hadley rolled her eyes, but at least she’d rid herself of an audience...except for blue-haired Bunny Neill, the woman who’d hired her and filled in for her on a part-time basis.

  Bunny grinned, her eyes crinkling mischievously behind her tortoiseshell glasses. “Can’t kick me out, dear. I work here. So, is this lunch buddy of yours the same man Alma saw you with at the grocery store?” At Hadley’s nod, Bunny’s grin widened. “Good for you. Alma said he was—”

  “Grayson!” Hadley waved hello across the counter, silencing her predecessor before she said anything too embarrassing. “Right on time. I’m starving.” He’d texted that morning to say he hoped barbecue was okay because the Smoky Pig was one of the things he’d missed most about Cupid’s Bow. Since Tuesdays were her sister’s day off, Hadley had readily agreed.

  Purse in hand, she hurried around the counter to join him. She probably looked overeager, but she wanted to hustle him out of here before the Drake cousins returned and interrogated him. Bunny was hot on her heels, reaching over to shake his hand.

  “I’m Bunny Neill.” She sized him up with a nod. “Alma was right, you are a strapping fellow.”

  His eyebrows rose at this observation, but he smiled hesitantly. “Grayson Cox. Nice to meet you.”

  Hadley gently pried her mentor away. “We’ll be back in an hour, Bunny.”

  “You kids take your time,” Bunny called after them. “I remember what young love is like. Why, Herbert and I used to fog up the windows of his—”

  Hadley shoved the door open and practically dragged Grayson outside.

  He grinned teasingly. “Hey, I didn’t get to hear what Herbert drove. Car? Truck? Maybe one of those vintage ʼ51 Ford pic
kups.”

  “Sure, make jokes. You have no idea what I just saved us from. Bunny seems to find retirement liberating. In the past year, she’s taken oversharing to a new level.” Hadley was emotionally scarred from Bunny reminiscing about her honeymoon.

  As they reached the end of the sidewalk, Grayson asked, “Mind if I drive?”

  “Go right ahead. I’m a terrible driver. I mean, not literally, but my mind wanders sometimes. I swear I get my best ideas behind the wheel. I’ll be toodling along, then come up with the perfect plot twist and—”

  “Plot twist?” He opened the passenger-side door for her.

  “Oh. I, um, write stories.” Now that she’d had a few pieces published, it was no longer a secret, but she still felt weird talking about it, as if she might jinx her future success. Plus, people’s follow-up questions were sometimes uncomfortably bizarre. The manager at the movie theater had asked if the short story about a woman who methodically killed four husbands was inspired by Hadley’s real life.

  Still, people at her reunion were going to ask what she’d been up to, and she was proud of the stories she’d had in magazines, so she might as well practice talking about it. When Grayson got into the truck, she said, “I’ve only sold short stories so far, but I’m working on a book-length manuscript set in London.”

  “That’s great. With all those reports you used to give on faraway places, I wouldn’t have been surprised to come back and learn you’d become a famous travel writer. Or one of those people who blogs about hidden attractions tourists don’t know about.”

  Her laugh was brittle. “Ironic, since I’ve never been outside Texas—not that there isn’t lots to do in this big ol’ state, but...”

  “So what kind of book are you writing?”