A Cowboy for the Twins

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A Cowboy for the Twins Page 12

by Carolyne Aarsen


  “Beyond delicious.” Noah glanced over at Shauntelle, surprised at how happy he was to see her in his own home. He had seen little of her lately, and he thought she was avoiding him. Then his mother told him she was coming for supper.

  “So now, I think we should go for a walk.” His mother was already getting up as she spoke.

  “Are you sure?” Noah asked.

  “Oh, don’t you fuss over me.” His mother flapped her hand at him. “I’ve been feeling good lately.”

  “I can see that for myself,” Noah said. “I’m so glad.”

  The past few days, in spite of her broken leg, his mother had smiled more, her eyes had sparkled more, and she seemed to be brimming with enthusiasm. Though he guessed much of it had to do with him being on the ranch, he also suspected part of her increased vigor was because of Shauntelle’s daughters.

  His mother hadn’t come right out and said as much, but Noah was sure that she and those adorable twin girls had put this whole supper scheme together. And right now, with Shauntelle sitting across from him, he didn’t mind one bit.

  “Why don’t you go out for a walk, and I’ll take care of cleaning up,” Shauntelle said as she stood as well.

  “Not a chance, my dear,” his mother said. “When you make the supper, you shouldn’t have to do the dishes. Noah and I will do them once you leave.”

  Shauntelle looked like she was about to object again, but Margaret was already pulling her away from the table. Noah thought maybe he should stay behind, but then Millie grabbed his hand.

  “You have to come too,” she said, tugging on his hand, giving him no choice but to follow.

  He gave in and they all trooped out the door behind his mother, who was moving surprisingly fast for someone on crutches. She was down the stairs of the porch before he could offer to help.

  “I thought the girls would like to see the barn, and then we could go look at our cows,” his mother said, heading down a path leading to the back pasture where the cows were.

  “How many do you have?” Shauntelle asked, trying to keep up with her.

  “About thirty,” his mother said, stumping along as if she was a woman on a mission. “Noah keeps telling me I should get rid of them, but I like having them around. Them and the horses. You know my husband and Noah trained those horses.”

  Most of the horses he and his father had trained together were gone. The only ones left were the ones she got from Uncle Boyce. But he didn’t want to make his mother feel bad. So he chose not to correct her. Instead he followed his mother, the girls easily keeping up with her as she told them about the ranch, explaining where it came from and the history.

  Noah held back, guilt slithering once again into his soul. He knew the ranch had been passed down through three generations of Cosgroves and that he had always been expected to carry on the tradition. But that would have meant working with his father.

  “I feel I should explain about how we ended up here for supper,” Shauntelle said, pulling him back from the dark place he’d been going to. She lowered her voice, slowing her steps to stay out of earshot of his mother and the girls, who had now disappeared around the side of the barn they were walking toward.

  Noah raised his hand to stop her, feeling the faintest twinge of disappointment over her need to clarify. “I think I know what happened,” he said, also speaking quietly, also slowing his steps. “I overheard my mother talking to one of your daughters a few days ago. It sounded like they were planning something.”

  “I’m sorry. Those girls are, for lack of a better word, incorrigible.”

  “So is my mother.”

  They both shared a smile, a lingering gaze. Her daughters and his mother were well ahead of them, but he was in no hurry to catch up.

  “The supper was delicious, and I want to thank you for bringing it,” he said, not sure what else to say. He felt like he was back in high school, trying to make conversation with a girl he liked and find a polite way to ask her out.

  Of course, this wasn’t what was happening here.

  “I think—”

  “I wonder—”

  They spoke at the same time and laughed, tried to start again, and then quit.

  “You first,” he said.

  She looked away, biting her lip. “This is embarrassing for me, but I need to bring it up.”

  She paused again, her hands shoved in the back pockets of her blue jeans. He felt a flicker of concern at her serious expression and her hesitation. He wondered if what she needed to bring up had anything to do with her brother.

  So he waited, trying not to get too nervous. He had enjoyed supper tonight. Enjoyed having Shauntelle and her daughters join them. Their laughter and good humor brought joy to a house that had had little joy in it for many years.

  He hoped she wasn’t telling him they couldn’t come anymore.

  And why does that matter? You’re leaving.

  But somehow it was getting harder to be so emphatic about that as he’d once been. And the woman beside him had much to do with that shifting emotion.

  “So, what do you need to bring up?” he prompted, her long pause making him nervous.

  “It’s my daughters.” She sighed, then shook her head. “You may as well know they have taken something your mother said and run with it.” Another pause, another sigh. “It was a simple comment your mother made,” she finally said, “about the size of your house and how there was lots of room. Millie and Margaret...well...they seemed to think that was an invitation from your mother—”

  She stopped there, and once again he was intrigued to see a flush rising up her neck, coloring her cheeks.

  “An invitation for what?”

  She sighed again, then turned to him, looking embarrassed. “My daughters seemed to think your mother was asking them to live with her. And me, I guess.” She rolled her eyes at that. “As if that’s not bad enough, they have been talking about you...and...well...me.”

  You and me.

  Seemed kind of nice to think about. But he needed to clarify.

  “You and me...” he encouraged.

  Another sigh. Another flush as she flapped her hand between them. “Us. Together. They were saying silly things like how you could be a...” She shook her head. “This is genuinely embarrassing, but I’m scared they’re telling you or your mother anyway. But they seem to think you would make a good dad and that you and I could be together.”

  “Me. A dad.” The thought tantalized and teased. He and Shauntelle and her incorrigible daughters.

  “The girls have vivid imaginations and can weave an entire story out of a few words. I’m so sorry, but I figured you should know.” She hurried her steps, as if she wanted to get away from him.

  He caught her by the arm, halting her forward momentum. “Hey, don’t worry about it. I’ve been around your girls enough by now to know how they act. And what they’re capable of.”

  The relief on her face made him smile. “They are quite something. But I felt I needed to tell you. I didn’t want them tossing it at you out of the blue.”

  “That would certainly have caught me unawares.” But as he noticed her grateful expression, his mind tested the idea. He and Shauntelle, with her little girls. A family. For a moment he allowed himself to imagine all of them here on the ranch.

  He tilted his head to one side, as if studying Shauntelle from another angle. He reached up and gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, just for an excuse to touch her. His breath caught in his chest, and once again it seemed as if time wheeled to a standstill.

  He wanted to kiss her.

  “Are you guys coming? It’s so awesome here!” Millie called out.

  Noah pulled back, looking around to see where her voice was coming from. And then he saw her, crouched on her hands and knees, looking out the open door of the second-story loft of the bar
n. Margaret stood behind her, clearly unwilling to take the risk Millie was.

  “I’d really like it if you moved back,” Noah said, stifling a beat of fear and striding toward the barn, his eyes locked on Millie.

  “It’s perfectly safe up here,” Millie called out, grinning down at him.

  “I still think you should back up,” Noah said, getting closer. The way she looked over the edge gave him the creeps. The last thing he wanted or needed was for something to happen to Shauntelle’s daughters on his ranch.

  “Millie, please listen to Noah,” Shauntelle added. “It’s not safe where you are.”

  “I’m okay, Mom.”

  “I want you to move now.” Noah couldn’t help the hard tone of his voice, but she had to know he wasn’t kidding. “And come down from that loft please.”

  Millie held his gaze as if challenging him, but then, thankfully, she crept back from the opening.

  Relief flooded him, and he hurried into the barn, to make sure the girls came down. His mother was at the bottom of the ladder, looking up.

  When she saw Noah, she clapped her hand to her chest, as if she too had been afraid of what might happen.

  “I’m so glad you’re here. I tried to tell them not to go up until you came, but Millie was determined to have a look.”

  “I’m not surprised,” he said, then clambered up the ladder just as the girls came to the opening.

  Instead of looking contrite, Millie had a mischievous expression on her face.

  “Were you scared something would happen to us?” she asked, rocking back and forth on her feet.

  “Yes I was,” Noah said, wondering how she could act so blasé after being reprimanded. Once again he felt sorry for Shauntelle, having to deal with this little spitfire.

  “I was being careful,” Millie said confidently.

  “You were way too close to the edge,” Margaret put in. She sounded upset. And Noah didn’t blame her—he felt the same.

  “I’m glad you listened anyway,” Noah said. “Now let’s get you down here, where it’s safer.”

  “I saw you with my mom.” Millie changed the subject with an alacrity that almost made Noah smile in spite of what had just happened. “She sure is pretty, isn’t she?”

  Noah was glad that Shauntelle had given him a heads-up as to where her daughter’s thoughts were heading.

  “I want to see you go down,” was all he said.

  “I thought you would kiss her,” Millie continued, not the least put out by his orders.

  If he was the blushing sort, Noah was sure his face would have been beet red.

  Instead he pointed to the ladder. “Down. Now.” He made his voice extra firm, extra hard, trying not to let what that little stinker said get to him.

  Thankfully they both clambered down, joining his mother and Shauntelle at the bottom.

  His mother looked penitent. “It was my idea to show them the barn, and I did tell them not to go up to the loft.” Then she looked over at the girls, frowning. “But I wish you would have listened to me.”

  To Noah’s surprise, both girls looked down at the ground, now contrite. Millie dug the toe of her runner into the loose dirt, making a hole, and Margaret twisted her hands around each other. His mother created a sense of shame in them that he couldn’t.

  “What do you girls say to Mrs. Cosgrove and Noah?” Shauntelle prompted.

  They both mumbled an apology, and then his mother ruffled their hair. All was forgiven, and Millie shot out the door, off to the next adventure.

  “Millie, you need to stay with us!” Noah called out.

  Thankfully Millie stopped in her tracks and trudged back to join them.

  “Thank you for listening,” Noah said.

  “You sound just like a dad,” she said with a pout.

  “I think he would be a good dad,” Margaret put in, sounding demure.

  Noah glanced at Shauntelle. She was blushing again and avoiding his gaze. He couldn’t blame her, not after what she had told him.

  “Don’t you think Mr. Noah is a good dad?” Margaret asked Shauntelle.

  “What else did you want to show the girls, Mother?” Noah asked, cutting off any other embarrassing thing either of them might say.

  His mother gave him a sly smile, but Noah didn’t bite. “I thought you had something else you wanted them to see,” he pressed, giving her a warning glance.

  “Right. One of the farm cats had kittens. I thought that would be fun for Millie and Margaret,” his mother said, seeming to take the hint. “They’re in the feed shed beside the corrals.”

  “Kittens? You have kittens?” Margaret looked enraptured. “I would love a kitten. Can we have one? Please?” She turned to her mother, pleading.

  “We’ll just look at them,” Shauntelle said with a rueful smile. “You know we can’t have a cat at Gramma and Grandpa’s place.”

  Margaret’s frown showed Noah what she thought of that. “Gramma and Grandpa’s house is no fun. I wish we could live here.”

  Noah couldn’t stop a quick glance at Shauntelle, who was looking upward as if petitioning God for patience.

  “Let’s be thankful that Mr. Noah and Mrs. Cosgrove let us come and visit,” Shauntelle said, turning back to the girls.

  Very diplomatic.

  “Let’s go look at the kittens.” His mother headed out the door.

  Thankfully, this time the girls stayed with them as Noah and Shauntelle followed. Though he had warned them to do exactly what they were doing, a small part of Noah wished they would hurry ahead so he could snatch a few more moments alone with Shauntelle.

  He glanced sidelong at her and he wondered, from the smile teasing a corner of her mouth as she held his gaze, if she thought the same.

  * * *

  “All we need to do is paint the walls, and we’ll be ready for the kitchen equipment next week.” Kyle waved his hand as if to demonstrate.

  Shauntelle stood with her hands on her hips, looking at the transformed space. Yesterday she hadn’t been able to come here, which had created a mixture of disappointment and relief. She could still feel the heat of mortification she experienced when Margaret told Noah he would be a good father.

  Since their visit to the ranch on Wednesday, she hadn’t seen Noah at all, and wondered if he was avoiding her. Yesterday he was gone for a meeting with the rodeo group when she came to the arena, and she hadn’t seen him yet today.

  She tried not to let his absence matter, but deep in her heart, it did.

  “This looks amazing,” Shauntelle said, studying the walls separating the kitchen area from the dining space. They were all dry-walled and taped, transforming the large room into so many possibilities. She could see where the tables and chairs would go, what the kitchen would look like. All the dreams she had spun now stood in front of her, solid and real.

  “Noah was hoping he could be here to show you this,” Kyle said. For a moment Shauntelle wondered if he could read her thoughts.

  “It’s okay. I know he’s busy,” she said, hoping she sounded more casual than she felt. His words had ignited a tiny spark of hope.

  “I don’t think he’s ever too busy for you.” Kyle gave her a knowing wink, and Shauntelle wondered if her feelings for Noah were that obvious.

  “Well, I’m sure he has many other important things to do.” Shauntelle gave Kyle a forced smile, then looked once more around the space that would soon be a full-fledged restaurant. Anticipation rose, battling the usual nerves.

  Would this work? Would she get enough customers? Could she make enough to support herself and her daughters?

  “Anyway, I thought I would stop in and see how things are going. See if you needed anything.”

  Kyle shook his head. “We got this. You just make sure the equipment comes next week, and I think we’ll be in good shape.”


  She gave him a quick nod, then hurried back to her parents’ home to finish making the bowls of trifle she had planned on serving at the wedding.

  Her parents were at work but had told her they had an appointment in Calgary that evening. All very mysterious, and Shauntelle didn’t have the mental energy to figure out what that was all about. So she arranged for her friend Tabitha to pick up the girls from school and keep them overnight. Millie and Margaret were thrilled, though they had casually suggested they could maybe stay at Mrs. Cosgrove’s place instead.

  Shauntelle hadn’t even acknowledged the bait they floated past her.

  Two hours later, she smoothed the last layer of whipping cream on the trifle, sprinkled some chocolate swirls on it and set it in the carrier. She arched her back to ease the kink out of it, then hurried to her bedroom to change.

  She knew she wasn’t required to dress fancy. But she would be setting the desserts out in front of the wedding guests and wanted to look professional.

  And you want to look your best for Noah.

  She tried to ignore the taunting voice as she got dressed. She wore black dress pants and a soft pink, sleeveless lacy top that flowed past her hips. She curled her hair and clipped the sides up with some sparkly barrettes, letting the curly tendrils frame her face.

  Eye shadow, eyeliner, mascara. Then a touch of lipstick.

  She stood back and gave herself a critical look in the mirror, wondering what Noah would think. Then she packed up the food and drove to the hall, unable to keep down anticipation at the thought of seeing him again.

  Shauntelle wove her way through the many cars and trucks in the parking lot of the hall and backed up to the door leading to the kitchen.

  The kitchen was empty. Though the blended scents of supper still lingered, the counters were spotless and empty. Ella had wanted Shauntelle to come well after supper was over, and it looked like the caterer had cleaned up and left already, so she had the place to herself.

  The door from the kitchen to the hall was closed, but Shauntelle could hear laughter, music and the happy chatter of wedding guests.

 

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