by Deb Kastner
What could he offer her?
Nothing but his heart.
And while that might work out in romantic movies, this was real life. Miranda might have her own financial resources and not need someone rolling in dough, but—especially because of the twins—she needed a man with a strong, steady lifestyle, which was the furthest possible thing from Simon’s constantly-walking-on-a-tightrope herding operation and canine rescue.
His dogs used to be enough for him, but now his heart had grown to make room for Miranda and the twins, and when they weren’t there, he felt all empty inside.
But that was his problem.
Miranda would probably be happier with a man who smiled when he saw the sun rise, and she definitely needed a man with a firm faith in God’s goodness.
Simon had been privately working on that part of it—cracking open the Bible Edith McPherson had given him when he graduated high school, and taking baby steps in the prayer department.
His prayers weren’t anything formal. They were more like a running commentary with God while he worked with his rescues or groomed his cattle dogs.
When he’d sent his first tentative prayer heavenward, he’d expected it to ricochet right back down at him. Instead, he’d felt a quiet acceptance in his heart. No fireworks. Nothing he could put a name to, or share in words, but a sweet, silent something nonetheless.
He had yet to talk himself into attending a church service, but he figured that was probably the next step down the line somewhere. In the meantime, he just kept talking to the Lord, mostly about Miranda and the twins, because he had no idea what to do next where they were concerned.
A little divine guidance would be great. But since that wasn’t likely to happen, Simon just kept to himself.
Mason had called on Tuesday to make sure everything was all right. Apparently, Miranda had taken the twins home not long after he had left. Simon felt bad about that. He hadn’t meant to ruin the occasion for her.
He’d assured Mason that all was well, even though his life was far from it. He had hunkered down at his ranch and had spent the entire week putting the finishing touches on the training of the rescue dogs who would be taken to the adoption event.
Only a week and a half before the Saturday event, and he still had so much to do—washing, grooming and making every pup look their best. Saturdays were always Wildhorn’s busiest shopping days, even when it wasn’t one week before Christmas. Of all the adoption events he sponsored during the year, Christmas was his best season. With a careful vetting of owners, a dog could be the perfect gift—one that would give years of love and joy to their forever family.
He was too busy to think about anything else besides the upcoming event—or at least that was what he’d told Miranda when she’d texted him about rescheduling the zoo.
The truth was, he didn’t know how he was going to explain his actions at the party when he saw Miranda next, and he was dragging his feet because of it. He had to say something, but he didn’t know what. He had answered her text with a cryptic one of his own, and from then on, he’d let her phone calls go to voice mail.
After a couple of days she’d stopped calling. He figured she’d probably given up on him. All the better for her.
But he was still the twins’ godfather. He would have to face Miranda sometime, work things out and get over the awkwardness he was feeling.
Just not today.
He was elbow deep in soap suds trying to turn Zig and Zag back into the West Highland white terriers they had been before their most recent roll in the mud, when his phone buzzed in his back pocket.
It was probably Miranda again. He wished he had never insisted that she put his number on speed dial. She was punching that call button way too often.
At least this time he had a valid reason for letting it go straight to voice mail, and not just that he was pretending the phone wasn’t buzzing at all.
But when his phone rang again five minutes later, Zig and Zag were towel dried and zipping through the house chasing each other.
Simon pulled his cell out and checked the screen.
It was Mason. No doubt calling to check up on him again.
Maybe Miranda had put him up to it.
He sighed and answered.
“Still fine,” he said instead of hello.
“What?”
“I’ve been busy. I built an eight-foot privacy fence across my southern border, and the big adoption event is next weekend. That’s why I haven’t been answering my phone.”
Wow. And how lame of an excuse was that? It sounded terrible even to him.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, buddy,” Mason said.
“Oh.” Simon had just assumed Mason was calling on Miranda’s behalf. “What’s up, then? Are the twins okay?”
“You should really be asking Miranda that question, but yes, the twins are fine. I’m calling about the neighborhood watch.”
“Someone caught the pranksters?” he asked hopefully.
Mason paused. “Not exactly. They’ve, er, struck again.”
Simon groaned. “What now?”
“You have to see it to believe it. They’ve hit Tumbleweed Avenue again, and this one’s a doozy.”
“Nobody saw them?”
“Not to my knowledge.”
“How is that possible?”
“Search me. But you need to see it.”
“I’ll be there in ten.”
“Can you do me a favor and call Miranda for me? I’m sure she’s going to want to see this, too. And tell her to bring her camera.”
Simon knew he was being set up. There was no reason Mason couldn’t just call her on his own phone.
“Is it that bad?” he asked.
“Not exactly,” Mason hedged again. “Look. Miranda isn’t at home and I’m not sure where she is, only that she has the twins with her.”
“Yes. Yes. I’ll call her. I’m sure she’ll want to be there. She’s part of the neighborhood watch.”
A reluctant part. She was more likely to want to see what the artists had done.
He hung up with Mason and punched in Miranda’s number. He didn’t expect her to pick up, since he’d been avoiding her phone calls all week, but the phone only rang once before he heard Miranda’s warm alto on the other end.
“What’s up?” she asked cheerfully.
Why was it every time he thought she’d be upset with him—like right now, for example, when she should be ready to rake him over the coals—she surprised him with her positive attitude?
He sighed. She practically beamed sunshine. He had such a long way to go.
“Mason asked me to call you.”
“Oh.” Her voice dropped. He thought it might be disappointment.
“I’m sorry I didn’t call you back earlier in the week. The adoption event is next weekend and—”
“You don’t have to explain yourself. But I am kind of right in the middle of something. I’m taking pictures of the church youth group. They’re waiting on me. So if you’ve got something to say, just say it.”
“Where are you?”
“At the park. Why?”
“Apparently, the Triple H pranksters struck again.”
“You’re kidding. What is it this time?”
“I’m not sure. Something on Tumbleweed Avenue. Mason said to make sure you bring your camera.”
“Okay. I’m just finishing up here. I’ll meet you on Tumbleweed.”
“Are the twins with you?”
“Of course. Always.”
Despite all the promises he’d made to himself throughout the past week, Simon’s heart warmed at the thought of seeing his three favorite people again.
It was hopeless.
He was hopeles
s.
A lost cause.
He could no more stay away from Miranda than he could stop breathing.
Unless he moved somewhere far, far away.
Like Mars.
* * *
Miranda took a few more snapshots of the youth group under a large elm tree and then pulled them in for a meeting to let them know something had happened on Tumbleweed Avenue again and their assistance might be needed.
They responded as enthusiastically as they always did. Much of the youth group’s time was spent doing service projects. They were always ready and willing to help.
As was Miranda.
She packed the twins up in her SUV and made quick time to the main street. Anticipating similar circumstances to the last time around, she parked a couple of streets down from the road, set up the double stroller for Harper and Hudson, and then set off on foot the rest of the way.
She was curious about what kind of prank had caused Mason to suggest she bring her camera, but mostly, she was just anxious to see and talk to Simon.
He couldn’t ignore her if they were face-to-face, as he had done with her texts and phone calls. And she needed to speak with him urgently, because after much reflection, she thought she had figured out what had set him off so vehemently and caused him to leave the party in such a rush.
Well, she’d known what the problem was from the moment it had happened. But now she’d come up with, if not a solution, then at least a suggestion that would ensure they spent lots of time together and possibly help his beloved dog rescue to be even more successful than it already was.
She wasn’t ready to give up on Simon yet, even if he apparently was ready to give up on her and the twins. She couldn’t wait to share her thoughts with him and see if his reaction was as positive as she hoped it would be.
As she turned onto the avenue, her mind was distracted with thoughts of how she was going to explain to Simon why they needed to work together, but as soon as she caught her first glance of it and looked around, she gasped in surprise.
Tumbleweed Avenue had been TP’d from one end of town to the other. Miranda couldn’t even begin to imagine how many rolls of toilet paper the kids must have used.
But the work they’d done was breathtaking. Simply and utterly amazing. It must have taken them most of the night. How no one had seen them was a mystery.
No wonder Mason had wanted her to bring her camera. The teenagers had strung toilet paper from one old-fashioned lamppost to the next, all the way down the street on both sides, carefully twisting and mimicking garland. The poles had all been wrapped from top to bottom to look like candy canes. Above the doors of every shop and business were enormous, intricately tied toilet paper bows.
The entire avenue was the epitome of warm, blessed Christmas spirit. It screamed merry and bright, highlighting the already-decorated avenue and bringing it to new heights of artistry.
She focused her lens on the artwork and started snapping photos.
“At least this won’t take as long to clean up” came Simon’s deep, clearly annoyed voice from behind her.
“But it’s beautiful. Surely, we don’t have to wreck it yet. No one else seems to be in a big hurry to do so.”
Simon picked off his hat and shoved his fingers through his hair.
“I have to admit this is pretty impressive. They went to a lot of trouble. But I can’t help but wonder what’s next.”
Miranda realized that would always be the question with Simon—what was coming next and would that something be worse than the last time?
“I think we can gather from this project that these kids mean no harm to the town,” she assured him.
Simon didn’t immediately reply. Instead, he busied himself taking Harper out of the stroller and swinging her into the air, smiling when she squealed in delight.
“I’ve missed these little ones.”
Miranda noticed that he didn’t say anything about missing her.
But that was where her idea came in—making herself useful to him until they got over this bump in the road. Until he did miss her when she wasn’t around.
“I’ve been thinking a lot about your adoption event,” she started. “I want to help.”
His gaze widened in surprise. “Yeah? How’s that?”
“I think I may have come up with a new, possibly better way to advertise—not only for this upcoming event, but for the future.”
“I have posters on all the public bulletin boards and in the windows of some of the shops.”
“Do they have pictures of your dogs on them—or better yet, photos of dogs and children that suggest forever families?”
He shook his head, his gaze brightening with interest.
“Do you think that would help?” he asked.
“You know what they say—a picture is worth a thousand words.”
“I can see where that would work,” he said, but then frowned. “It’s a little too late for this year, though.”
“Well, if you would have picked up your phone...” she teased.
Even under the shadow of his stubble, she could see that his face stained red. “That was immature of me. I shouldn’t have ignored your phone calls. I’m really sorry. I didn’t know what to say. I wasn’t sure how to explain why I left the party so suddenly.”
“You don’t have to explain anything. I get it,” she assured him.
“You do?”
She nodded. “It’s forgotten. And as far as advertising for this year’s adoption event goes, I don’t see why it’s too late for us to do something about it.”
“You don’t?”
“You have a printer with a copy function in your office, right?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Happily, technology has increased by leaps and bounds in the last couple of decades,” she ribbed. “No, but seriously. It won’t take me more than an hour to do a photo shoot of the adoptable dogs and put together new posters for you. Then we can canvass the area this evening. It’s perfect timing, really.”
“You can do all that in such a short time?”
“Of course.”
“But why would you want to, after the way I’ve treated you, I mean? You say you understand, but really, there are no excuses for my bad behavior.”
“Then I forgive you.” She grinned at him.
“Just like that?”
“Just like that,” she assured him. “Now, we ought to get going. But I have to run by my cabin first.”
“Why?”
“To pick up Christmas outfits for Harper and Hudson. They’re going to be your Forever Family models.”
“That’s an awesome idea. Did I mention how wonderful you are?”
He embraced her and twirled her and the twins in their stroller around and around.
She’d never literally been swept off her feet before. She liked the feeling.
As he set her back on solid ground, she felt dizzy and off balance and she pressed her hands against his chest to steady herself. Their eyes met and his gaze darkened and dropped to her lips. His heartbeat pounded under her palm.
With infinite gentleness, he lifted his hand to frame her face and tip up her chin. He moved slowly, giving her plenty of time to respond.
And respond she did. When he tilted his head so his mouth was aiming for her cheek, she turned hers and met his lips straight on.
Surprise flashed through his gaze before his eyelids dropped closed and he slid his hand to the nape of her neck to pull her closer.
This time he clearly meant to kiss her on the lips, and he did—so thoroughly and wonderfully that Miranda thought she might have discovered a literal cloud nine.
Every thought, every emotion, every nerve, was in tune with his. She’d never felt more alive, more
connected to another person. This was life in Technicolor and she wished she had a way to photograph her feelings and keep them forever.
“PDA much?”
Mason’s laughing voice drifted slowly into Miranda’s consciousness. “This ain’t no kissin’ booth. Now, granted, Charlotte and I thought y’all ought to figure this relationship business out, but in the middle of Tumbleweed when there’s a crowd around? Really?”
“Go away, Mason,” Simon said, his lips still hovering over hers.
Mason held up his hands in surrender. “Just sayin’, Simon. It’s a good thing you’re kissing the photographer or your picture would be spread all over Wildhorn’s social media by tomorrow morning.”
Miranda would happily have taken that photo—and posted it on every social media account she had.
Simon groaned and pulled away.
He didn’t like to be the center of attention, and she respected that, but she didn’t care who was watching.
She wanted the whole world to know.
Chapter Thirteen
Simon held Hudson and Harper in his lap while Miranda decorated the miniature tree he’d just bought for this purpose. She hung little bulbs and strung red garland around it, then checked the lighting through the lens.
“I still can’t believe you don’t decorate for Christmas,” Miranda said, putting a green hat on Hudson. His little Santa’s helper suit and Harper’s matching female elf would contrast nicely with Zig and Zag, the dogs Miranda adorably still thought of as twins.
“What would be the point? It’s only me and the dogs, and they don’t care that it’s Christmas.”
“Hello—Christmas spirit, where are you? What happened to getting in the mood for all things merry and bright?”
Simon snorted. “When have you ever known me to be merry and bright?”
But sitting here cross-legged with both of the twins on his lap and Miranda zipping around with unflagging energy and excitement, he thought he might be as close as he’d ever been to those feelings.
There was just something right about the four of them being here together. Next year he might even go whole hog—cut down a real evergreen and toss around some tinsel. And of course, he would hang a sprig of mistletoe, maybe a whole bunch of them, which he’d be pulling Miranda beneath as often as possible for a long time to come.
