The Rancher's Twin Troubles

by Laura Marie Altom

“Just because we’re not talking about it,” she snapped, gripping the steering wheel with all of her might, “doesn’t mean what Hugh did isn’t always going to be with me. His blood has become a stain on my soul.” She wasn’t upset with Dallas, she was grateful to him for jolting her back to reality. She’d enjoyed feeling needed. Too much. Lounging in a big, comfy bed with an attractive man and his girls had been like fate waving a huge, red warning flag smack in front of her face.

  Don’t get too close.

  “Josie, please… Sure, I’d like to talk this out, but beyond that, I still need help with the girls.”

  Exasperated with this man who was incapable of doing a task as simple as holding comforting cool cloths to his daughters’ heads, Josie shot him a look of raw disgust before aiming her car away from his maddeningly handsome face.

  “HENRY,” DALLAS SAID as he entered the barn office later that afternoon. The twins had slept off whatever had been ailing them and, after having them checked out by Wren, he’d helped saddle their ponies. Though low clouds hugged brown earth, the air smelling of wet leaves and straw, Dallas figured fresh air never did a body harm. “That woman’s maddening as they come.”

  “Which one?” Henry asked, not looking up from whittling the body of a toy car. By each Christmas, he’d made dozens of them for a local church. The guy loved kids, and it warmed Dallas’s heart that the same man who’d been a friend and confidant to him while growing up was now doing the same for the next generation of Buckhorns. “Ask me, any female over the age of ten is more trouble than she’s worth.”

  Glancing up from the feed order, Dallas chuckled. “That’s just because you’ve yet to find a woman who’d have you.”

  The old coot shook his hat-covered head.

  “Anyway, I was talking about the girls’ teacher.”

  “Pretty thing.” He chipped off the portion of the pine block he’d use as a fender. “Like that mess of red hair.”

  “Me, too.” Alas, she also possessed a forked tongue with the venom to match.

  “So what’s your problem?” He set his work aside on a battered leather trunk filling in as a side table. Using a whisk broom, he made quick work of cleaning his mess. “It’s fixin’ to rain again and I figure I’d better wrangle down the twins.”

  “I’ll get them,” Dallas volunteered, still fuming from Josie’s digs at his daddy skills. “And, anyway, all I was gonna say is that the woman makes me crazy. One minute, running hot. Next, biting like a January wind.”

  Shrugging, Henry tipped his hat. “Ask me, you’re better off on your own.” Alongside the desk, the grizzled cowboy patted Dallas’s back. “Come on. We’ll get the girls in together, then have that sister-in-law of yours watch them while we grab a couple beers.”

  “BET YOU TEN BUCKS YOU won’t climb that sexy behind up on the pool table and give us a dance.”

  “Oh.” Josie tipped back the remains of her rum and Coke, flashing the cowboy at the bar her brightest smile. “After I’ve had a few more of these, I’ll take you up on that bet and raise you twenty.” Remington’s Bar and Motel out by the toll road had a reputation around Weed Gulch for being the kind of establishment ladies didn’t frequent, but so far, Josie had found all of the men to be extraordinarily nice—unlike Dallas.

  With honky-tonk country music blaring from the jukebox, she ordered another drink before hopping down from her barstool to dance. Her favorite red boots stood out in stark contrast against the wood floor, making her giggle. Dancing was fun!

  Someone in the growing crowd wolf whistled, only spurring her on. Removing the ponytail holder that held her hair, she bent at her waist, flipping her curls down and back, giving them a good shake. If these boys wanted a show, she wouldn’t disappoint. Hugh might not have wanted her, but there were plenty of other men who’d be proud to have her for their girl.

  Music pumping, she unbuttoned the top of her plaid blouse, showing just enough cleavage to tease before undoing the bottom as well, tying the tails halter style.

  “Take it all off!” A man in the crowd shouted.

  “You wish,” she teased with a flirty sashay of her prairie skirt. “But if one of you bring me another rum and Coke with extra cherries, you might just get an extra-warm thank-you in return.”

  “Woo-hoo!” several men shouted, pumping their fists.

  “Someone get this girl more rum!” a T-shirt-wearing trucker shouted. “We’ve got us a stripper ready to go!”

  Swaying her hips in smooth figure eights while her audience cheered, Josie had just bent low enough to give the men in the front row more to cheer about when the music abruptly stopped.

  “What gives?” one guy who’d been especially into her show groused.

  Parting the crowd was Dallas.

  Standing a good six inches taller than any of the men around him, the stony set of his jaw told all assembled to steer clear.

  “Josie.” He grated his words from between clenched teeth. “You need to get the hell out of here.”

  “Make me,” she taunted with a shake of her hips.

  Growling, he stepped up, grasped her about the thighs and swung her over his shoulder with no more care than if she’d been a feed sack bound for the horse barn.

  “Put me down!” she shrieked, pummeling and kicking as he swept her through the gaping crowd.

  “Hey!” the trucker protested. “Bring her back! This was just getting good!”

  Ignoring the many complaints, as well as her continued shrieking, Dallas marched right out the door. Once he’d crossed from the bar lot over to the motel’s, he finally set Josie to her feet. “What the hell kind of stunt were you pulling? You’re a freakin’ kindergarten teacher. Aren’t you right up there on the virgin meter next to nuns?”

  “News flash,” Josie said, hands on her hips, “but I’m a grown woman and if I want to dance in a honky-tonk or anywhere else, I damn well will.”

  He winced. “No cussing from you, either—and button your shirt.”

  Raising her chin, she sassed, “I will cuss and strip whenever and wherever I like, thank you very much.”

  “Look, I did you a favor. Do you really want some clown chronicling your striptease on his phone, then posting it on the Web for the world to see?”

  “Like that would ever happen. I was just having fun.”

  “Taking off your clothes?” Growling in frustration, he tossed his head back. “You’re a disaster. How much have you had to drink?”

  Giggling, she admitted, “Two. The cherries were really yummy.”

  “Uh-huh…” Glancing about the empty parking lot, he said, “Let’s get you home.”

  “No.” After stomping her foot to show him she meant business, she turned back to the bar. “I came here to find a man who won’t hurt me, and I’m not leaving till I do.”

  Dragging her back by her shirtsleeve, he asked, “Of all places in Oklahoma to find a man, why here?”

  Biting her lower lip to keep it from trembling, she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “I already went the traditional route—marrying a guy from college. You know what happened there. I’ve dated around, but they were all duds. Then there’s you—has there ever been a bigger walking disaster?”

  “Me?” He coughed. “I must need a few more shots of whiskey, because I thought you just said I’m not date worthy.”

  “Oh—I did.” Her exaggerated nod made her yawn. Who knew dancing could be such hard work? “You’re a lousy parent, don’t appreciate even half of the blessings you’ve been given—worst of all…” she made a drum beat on the battered Ford pickup alongside her “…you’re a tease.”

  “E-excuse me?”

  “Oh—don’t go pretending you don’t know what I’m talking about. The night I shared dinner with your family, and then we played Five Minutes in Heaven by the pool, you kissed me breathless. You kissed me until I was consumed with nothing but horrible thoughts of having you inside me, but—” Lowering her voice, she asked, “Wanna know a secret?”


  Arms crossed, Dallas leaned on a Chevy and said, “Why not?”

  “I’m a kindergarten teacher. I’m not supposed to even know naughty things, let alone think them! It’s bad. Very, very bad. And, anyway, since you’re a horrible tease, I suspect you don’t even know how to truly please a woman.”

  “That a challenge?” The bar door opened and three drunken rednecks spilled out, carrying with them laughter and the chorus of a country song about whiskey making you frisky. “’Cause if it is…” He crossed to her Ford, bracing his hands on the front fender, effectively, deliciously, caging her in. “I’m more than happy to grab us a room and show you just how wrong you are.”

  “Big words, cowboy, but I’m not seeing a lot of follow-through.” What she was getting was an awful lot of quivery, hot sensations overriding the alcohol. Somewhere far in the back of her head, a voice reasoned to call Natalie for a ride home to sleep it off. But how could she possibly do that when a cowboy of epic proportions stood close enough for her to realize the bulge pressing against her midsection was in no way the proverbial flashlight.

  Tugging her toward him, he asked, “You sure this isn’t just booze talking?”

  “Only thing I’m sure of is that even though you annoy and infuriate me, for some unfathomable reason you still turn me on—despite not being able to deliver.”

  “Oh—if that’s what you want, sugar, that’s exactly what you’re gonna get.” He kissed her hard, but then soft, dizzying her with the sweep of his tongue. Suddenly too warm clothes left little to the imagination. It was no secret he wanted her and Josie was hot for him, too. Abruptly sober, tired of being the perpetual good girl, Josie abandoned everything she knew to be right and so-called decent in favor of unbuckling Dallas’s big, silver belt buckle. Still kissing, she unfastened the button on his jeans, lowering the zipper to set him free.

  He felt like hot, silken steel and she wanted him inside her with a ferocity that bordered on madness. Her rum buzz had been replaced by plain old lust. Breasts swelling and aching against his chest, she wanted to forget all worries and focus on the here and now. On the sensations flooding her limbs with devil-may-care pleasure.

  Hefting her skirt, tearing her thong only to let it fall to the gravel lot, Dallas rasped, “Let’s get this party started.”

  Cloaked in the shadows, he lifted her, urging her legs around him. Hands gripping her buns, he slid her onto his erection. She gasped from his initial size, but then opened, taking him in, making them one.

  Her backside cold against the Ford, the front of her felt superheated, clinging to him, trusting him to make everything better.

  Lowering his mouth to her chest and then breasts, he sucked, biting through her lacy bra. Nipples hard, raw with sensation, his actions only worsened the wondrous tension building within her.

  In and out he thrust with her clinging, clawing his back with her hands beneath his shirt. When the pleasure-pain was nearly too much to bear, white-hot heat drowned her in its light.

  He tensed and then shuddered, with the bulk of her weight still resting on the truck, he nuzzled her neck, moving his attentions upward, ultimately landing on swollen lips.

  “Take it back,” he said, voice still sex-raspy.

  “What?” she teased, knowing full well what he meant. The man might be a lot of things, but in this particular area, he’d more than delivered.

  His growl culminated in another kiss that rocketed to her toes. “We’re going to regret this in the morning.”

  With him still inside her, she refused to think further than the next few seconds in his arms.

  “I already do,” she admitted, yanking her skirt back to a decent level once he’d landed her on her feet. “I don’t know what came over me.”

  “Judging by your taste, rum,” Dallas mumbled, zipping his fly. “In my case, beer.”

  While each fumbled with the business of straightening their clothes, Josie fought the niggling fear that not only had she made a fool of herself, but she was also on the verge of being sick. What had she done? Why? Was she really so hard up for validation?

  “I’m sorry,” Dallas finally said, kicking gravel with the toe of his boot. “I never meant for this to happen—”

  “I feel the same. Trust me, we need never speak of it again.”

  An audible sigh told the story of his relief. “You’re in no shape to drive. Can I give you a lift? My ranch foreman will handle getting your car home.”

  Wanting to refuse, Josie mumbled her thanks, knowing Dallas was just being practical.

  What she couldn’t say—would never say—was that no matter how ill-advised their actions had just been, she feared it would be a good long while before she forgot his feel and taste. A horrible fate, considering she never wanted to see or think of the man again!

  Chapter Ten

  “You okay?” Monday morning, Nat stood behind Josie in the school cafeteria lunch line. “The look of death doesn’t become you.”

  Josie shot her supposed friend a dirty look.

  Nat took an apple from the fruit bar. “Don’t suppose your gray complexion and bloodshot eyes have anything to do with dancing at Remington’s?”

  Beyond mortified, not to mention still hungover, Josie focused on the chicken stir-fry Paula had put on her plastic tray.

  “Mike—that UPS guy I’ve been seeing—was there. Said you put on quite a show.”

  “Remind me at the end of this school year to move. I’m tired of my private life being everyone’s business.”

  Nat thanked Paula for her loaded tray. “Then you probably don’t want to hear that gossip also has it that you and Dallas disappeared for a good thirty minutes out in the parking lot. Or that his ranch foreman drove your car home.”

  “Shh…” Turning her attention to Paula, Josie said, “I’ll have green beans, too, please.”

  “The rumors are true?” The cafeteria worker’s grin was even cheesier than Nat’s. “You and Dallas Buckhorn are, like, a couple?”

  “Of course not.” How upset would Josie’s principal be if she up and quit midyear? Not only didn’t she frequent Remington’s, but she definitely had never indulged in a parking lot liaison. Worse yet, Josie’s mind refused to stop replaying the mortifying public tryst. Memories brought with them the scorching brand of Dallas’s fingertips on her behind.

  “She’ll deny it,” Nat said, adding her apple to her filled tray, “but check out those red cheeks. I’m telling you—something’s up.”

  Josie elbowed her friend’s ribs. “Knock it off. I’m as single as they come and planning to stay that way.”

  “BOO.”

  In line at Weed Gulch’s only combination gas and convenience store, Josie spun around to face Dallas in all of his glory. “It’s you.”

  “Oh, come on,” he leaned low to whisper in her ear, in the process sending a myriad of shivers through her, “play nice. We shared a moment. That’s all. We still have the rest of the girls’ school year to get through.”

  “With that in mind,” she fairly hissed, praying no one either of them knew witnessed their scene as they moved up in line, “I think it best we only see each other in a school setting.” A week had passed since she’d last seen him, yet as far as her body was concerned it might as well have been mere seconds. He hadn’t so much as grazed her, yet her whole body hummed.

  Outside, she’d filled her car’s tank, paying at the pump. Her only item was a twelve-pack of Sprite.

  “Let me carry that for you.” Without asking, Dallas took it from her, setting his own supersize pack of beef jerky on top.

  Irritable and feeling achy all of a sudden, Josie grumbled, “I managed just fine on my own, thank you very much.”

  “Of course, you did.” He winked and her stomach fluttered in response. “But would it kill you to let a guy be a gentleman?”

  “No.” But at the rate her pulse raced from his mere proximity—yes, technically, she may die. But oh, what a way to go. She’d forgotten his shee
r size. The breadth of his shoulders and slightly bowlegged walk, as if he’d spent so much time on a horse, that even while standing on solid ground he craved being in his saddle. Reminding herself further nonprofessional fraternization between them would be ill-advised, Josie was beyond thrilled to have made it to the front of the line. “Could I please have my pop?”

  He set it on the counter, but insisted on paying.

  Though she thanked him, back at the pumps, she asked, “Was that necessary? What if someone had seen? What don’t you get about the fact that I don’t want to be associated with you.”

  He set the case atop her car. “Hell, woman, it’s just soda. Nothing to get your panties in a wad about, because trust me, last thing I need—or want—is one more female messing with my life.”

  “NO.” BONNIE STOMPED her feet and clamped her mouth shut.

  “Daddy,” Betsy announced from in front of the twins’ double bathroom vanity, “that means she’s not going to brush her teeth tonight because the toothpaste is poison.”

  “That’s stupid.” Dallas flipped open the lid to the bubble gum sparkle flavor he’d bought specifically because Bonnie had wanted it. Taking a whiff, he noted, “Smells good to me—like a wad of that stuff you chew every day.”

  “It tastes icky and I won’t stick it in my mouth.” And to prove it, she ripped it from Dallas’s hand only to toss it in the toilet.

  “Oooh,” Becky said. “You’re in trouble.”

  Dallas’s first instinct was to call for his mother. Then he was wishing for Stella to return.

  Bonnie propped her little fists on her hips and raised her chin, challenging him with a ghostly blue-eyed stare he hadn’t seen for five agonizing years. If for only an instant, Bobbie Jo returned in the little girl their love had created. And it physically, emotionally, drove him to his knees.

  “Daddy?” Betsy wrapped her arms around him in a hug. “Are you crying?”

  Swiping tears he’d never wanted his girls to see, he said, “Nope. I’m just fine, and Bonnie’s going to stick her hand in the toilet and get the toothpaste. She’s then going to muck stalls until she’s earned enough money to pay for it.”