The Texas ranger's twins

by Leonard, Tina

  "You're not exactly going to be available from Mexico," Pete pointed out. "I'm going up there."

  "Going up where?" Dane asked.

  "To the house." His brother rose and tucked his shirt into his jeans.

  "We haven't been invited," Dane said. "Shouldn't we be invited?"

  "You can sit around all day waiting for an engraved letter," Pete told him. "I prefer to storm the fortress."

  Dane didn't want Suzy's battlements breached. "Hey " he said, hurrying after his brother. "Maybe we—"

  Slowing, he examined his actions. He was acting possessive—it had been a business proposal, right? Not a marriage proposal of love and romance and lifelong dreams. He could offer the same proposal to Priscilla or Cricket, or any other woman. Further, Suzy was a grown woman. She was capable of making her own decisions and, likely, those decisions would not include him. She'd said she wasn't interested. Maybe she was interested in Pete—and if she was, it didn't mean anything to Dane.

  It shouldn't, anyway.

  "You coming?" Pete demanded over his shoulder.

  "You go on,'' Dane said. "Think I'll go find some trouble."

  Chapter Eight

  There were some who would say that Dane was the more silent of the brothers. Gabriel was the youngest, so of course he had more personality. Raised by older brothers, he'd been pretty much left to his own devices. Plus he liked peace and harmony when he could get it.

  Dane wasn't sure there was much peace and harmony to be had at the Morgan ranch.

  Pete was the second son, the attention-seeker. He wanted attention, he craved action. Not much of a dedicated student, military life had been great for his sense of adventure. He couldn't wait to get away from home, and when he did, he traveled all over the world.

  Like Pop.

  Dane was pretty sure one could say that life at the Morgan ranch was pretty dreary for a second son seeking action.

  Jack was the eldest son and, therefore, the most driven. Also the most hardheaded. He and Pop had

  always butted heads. Jack was going to make his own path, and he didn't care who agreed with it.

  The Morgan ranch was no place for a man like Jack to twiddle his thumbs.

  As the third son, Dane fell somewhere in the middle of the family hodgepodge. Happy most of the time, daring a lot of the time, independent all of the time. He could also admit to himself that he didn't like where he was in life; didn't like that he'd been ripped ol( by a friend, didn't like that he was turning out like Pop.

  The instant he realized that, he knew exactly why he'd proposed to Suzy. He'd been looking for the easy way out of a hard dilemma. There were other ways to improve his life, make important changes.

  He got into his truck and headed up the road toward Lonely Hearts Station, home of the nearby rodeo and the last place he'd seen Jack Morgan.

  Suzy had spent hours pondering Dane's unorthodox proposal, and she still didn't know what to make of it. Part of her knew that he was operating out oi a sense o( duty to his father. Taking the easy way out, she supposed.

  Part of her wished she could just give in and life could be that easy.

  M So" Priscilla said, "this is a great place to live, with some minor modifications."

  Cricket nodded. "It's much quieter without the Morgan men."

  They laughed about that.

  "And yet they're so cute, in their own ways," Cricket said. She shivered, then grabbed an afghan to wrap around herself. "Let's bake cookies. When the girls wake up, we can let them decorate."

  "Oh, that will be some decorating," Suzy said. "They won't be pretty, but they'll be delicious." She glanced over at Priscilla. "Did I notice you staring at a certain bull-riding cowboy, Cricket?"

  "I looked at all of them," Cricket said. "What girl in her right mind wouldn't?"

  "I don't want a cowboy," Priscilla said, taking some flour and sugar out of the cupboard. "When I meet Mr. Right, I hope he's a very rich businessman. Or he definitely won't be Mr. Right. I was born to give big parties."

  Suzy nodded and grabbed baking powder and vanilla from a cupboard. "I don't know what Mr. Right would be for me, but I did receive a marriage proposal this afternoon." She hadn't exactly meant to confess that, hugging the secret to her, not sure what to make of it— but it seemed safe now to share it.

  "From Pete?" Cricket asked.

  "Or Dane?" Priscilla asked.

  Pete walked in the room. "Did I hear my name mentioned?" he asked with a grin.

  The three women jumped, their gazes sliding to Suzy. Suzy shook her head at him. "If you stand around eavesdropping, you'll hear things about yourself you don't want to hear."

  Pete grinned. "Like what?"

  "Who knows?" Cricket shrugged at him. "If you didn't hear it, we're not sharing."

  "Well," he said, his grin mischievous, "I think someone wondered if I'd asked Suzy to marry me."

  The three women groaned.

  "Very, very impolite," Priscilla said. "You should be ashamed."

  "Why? Dane already told me. It wasn't a newsflash. Anyway, that was about him, not me. Let's talk about me." He sat in a chair, lounging, his hat pulled low, his smile wide and pleased. "Go ahead," he prompted. "Continue the conversation. Or I'll get bored and have to ask Suzy to marry me."

  Suzy slapped the measuring cups onto the kitchen table. "I think I've had just enough talk about Suzy and marriage. Thank you."

  "Aw," Pete said. "What else are we going to do out here in the middle of January? Play strip poker?"

  Cricket shook her head. "Cowboy, maybe you better head into Union Junction for the kind of fun you're obviously hunting."

  "We could play spin the bottle." Pete picked up the bottle of vanilla, giving it a spin on the table. "Must be fate. It's pointing at you, Cricket."

  "Not me," Cricket said. "I have no use for wild men in my life."

  Pete moved the bottle with his finger. "Ah. You, Priscilla?"

  The other ladies giggled, getting drawn into his mischievousness.

  "Not me," Priscilla said, "I don't kiss anybody I'm not marrying/'

  "Yikes," Pete said, swiftly pointing the bottle at Suzy. "Maybe Su/y."

  Su/y put her hands on her hips. "I've already been kissed by your brother. I think that disqualifies me from the game/'

  The room went silent.

  "Dane never told me that," Pete said.

  "Would you expeet him to?" Su/y asked.

  "No," Pete said. "Is that why you turned him down? He's not a good kisser? Doesn't make your heart go pitter-patter? He could probably be trained, you know."

  Su/y shook her head and grabbed the vanilla from him. "I turned down his proposal because it was dumb and he didn't mean it. He doesn't want to cheat his father. He wants to be an honest man."

  "He wants that, or you do?" Pete asked, and Priscilla snapped at him with a dish towel.

  "Hey, Miss Manners!" Pete exclaimed.

  ''You're being nosy. Go find something to do, cowboy," Priscilla said.

  He looked around at the women, his ga/e sheepish. "Usually women want me to hang around."

  "Nah," Cricket said, "that's all in your imagination."

  "Dang, tough crowd," Pete said. He put his hat on

  Tina Leonard 83

  jauntily and strode to the door. "Guess I'll go hang out in the barn."

  "Where's Dane?" Suzy asked, unable to help herself.

  "Don't know. Went off in a sour mood, unlike myself," he said. "I'm never in a sour mood."

  "Right," Suzy said, "because you're the life of the party/'

  "If you don't be nice," he told her, "I'm not going to ask you to marry me." He ducked when a ball of cookie dough sailed past his head. "Okay!" he said, laughing. "Call me when they're golden brown."

  He left, whistling.

  Suzy shook her head and went back to mixing dough. Cricket and Priscilla glanced at each other.

  "What would you say if Pete asked you to marry him?" Priscilla asked.

  "He
was teasing, trying to get my goat," Suzy said, not even looking up. "The man is an ape, forget about it. They're both apes."

  "Yeah, but they're cute apes," Cricket said, as Priscilla nodded enthusiastically.

  "Cute is for puppies. They grow up and then you've got an untrained dog on your hands, if you're not careful," Suzy said. "Preheat the oven, would you, Priscilla? I mean, what would we really do with a Morgan man? Any of us?"

  "Die happy?" Priscilla asked.

  "Have hours and hours of endless kissing," Cricket said dreamily, and Suzy nearly dropped her cookie cutter. The thought was tempting. She knew how zood

  the kisses were...hours and hours of them wouldn't exactly be torture.

  "I don't know" Suzy said. "They have issues. Sooner or later, issues tend to get in the way of things."

  t4 So you're saying they're not marriage material? More like friends-with-benefits material?" Priscilla asked.

  Suzy glared at her. "How would I know? I've had one serious boyfriend in my life. I'm trying not to make that mistake again."

  Cricket transferred the snowman-shaped cookies onto a foil-lined cookie sheet. "Take him up on his offer, Suzy."

  "Who?" Suzy glanced up.

  "Dane"

  Priscilla and Cricket were staring at her oddly. Suzy hesitated. "Okay, girls, stay out of the cooking sherry. There's not going to be a wedding around here, at least not one where I'm the bride." She wouldn't admit it, but Dane's proposal had stayed on her mind, playing over and over.

  "There's no disadvantage to saying yes," Priscilla said, and Suzy glared.

  "There is. It would be dishonest."

  "It would be fun," Cricket said.

  "You're a deacon. How can you be for something that's not forever?" Suzy asked. "That has a guaranteed ending?"

  "Stranger things have happened," Cricket said.

  "That would be very strange indeed," Suzy agreed.

  Priscilla wiped up some flour with a sponge. "I wouldn't call marrying Dane an act of desperation."

  "Neither of you would accept his proposal," Suzy said.

  Cricket nodded. 'That's true," she said. T couldn't marry someone who had proposed to one of my dearest friends."

  "Me, either," Priscilla said piously, but Suzy was pretty sure Miss Manners and the deacon were telling wee fibs to themselves.

  "It doesn't matter. I'm happy just the way I am." It was mostly the truth.

  "Good," Cricket said. "That was all I needed to hear you say." She pulled out a drawer to look for a pot holder. A brown envelope fell out, scattering two letters to the floor. "Oops," Cricket said, bending to scoop them up. She looked at one, then the other. "These are addressed to Pete and Jack," Cricket said, stuffing both the letters back into the larger envelope.

  "Mr. Morgan hasn't been here since June," Suzy said. "Was it his handwriting?"

  "I wouldn't know his handwriting," Cricket replied.

  "I would. Let me see. If it's something important, Pete should know."

  Cricket held the brown envelope to her. "As a deacon, I should probably safeguard us against snooping."

  "As an etiquette expert, I should caution us against breaches of inappropriate happenstance," Priscilla said.

  "I'll just hold up the outside so Suzy can see," Cricket said, fishing one letter out so Suzy could glance at the handwriting.

  "It's Mr. Morgan's," she said. "I wonder why he

  didn't ask me to make sure the men got them since I'm working here."

  "Maybe he forgot." Priscilla said reasonably. "Or he wasn't expecting them to be here when you were."

  Pete burst through the front door. "Are the cookies ready?" He appeared in the kitchen doorway. "Notice I loudly announced my presence this lime. I don't want any more cookie dough hurled at me."

  "Good. You can have this instead" Cricket said, handing him the letter with his name on it.

  "Did you girls write me a love letter?" he asked, teasing. The smile slipped from his face as he saw how serious the women were. "Hey, I know I'm a little less refined than you might prefer, but I swear, for a cookie or two I can change."

  "It's from your father," Suzy said, and Pete went suddenly still, the mask of cold he'd worn when she first met him slipping back over his face.

  He looked at all of them, before cramming it into his shirt pocket. "What's that?"

  Suzy glanced at the final letter Cricket held. "It's lor your brother Jack."

  "Let me have it," Pete said.

  Cricket handed it to him silently.

  Opening it, he scanned it, then left without saying goodbye or taking a warm cookie from the tray.

  Chapter Nine

  Dane had looked everywhere for Jack, but it seemed his brother had left Lonely Hearts Station right after the bull ride. Right after he'd seen his family. The trip into town wasn't completely wasted, though, because Dane had had time to think about Suzy, and he liked thinking about her.

  He planned to change her mind. Maybe it wasn't heroic to try to outplay Pop, but it couldn't hurt to try. And he was still playing within the rules of the game. Pop was the one who had hired Suzy, after all, and Suzy had brought Cricket and Priscilla in to safeguard her reputation. Suzy had a point—it really wasn't appropriate for her to stay in a house o( men unchaperoned.

  If Suzy did agree to marry him, he'd be able to give Sandra and Nicole his name and he felt pretty good about that. He'd become very attached to those little girls. This surprised him because he never once had envisioned himsell with children; in fact, he could sec himself making as much of a mess of parenting as Pop.

  As much as he might want to imitate his father's business success, Dane knew he'd try hard to be a better father than Pop ever was.

  Sandra and Nicole seemed to like him. And he liked them. Dane considered that as he pulled into the Morgan ranch drive. Maybe he just got along better with females than with men.

  He walked into the house, smelling baked cookies. Now if that didn't make a house a home, nothing would. "Mmm!" he said loudly to announce his presence. "Something smells good! 91

  Cricket poked her head out of the kitchen. "Come poach a cookie or two."

  "Yes, ma'am." He strolled into the kitchen and was pleased to see Suzy dressed in a pretty pink apron with red hearts on it. "Hello, Priscilla," he said. "Hi, Suzy."

  Suzy gave him the briefest of greetings. That didn't bode well for him—clearly she hadn't been impressed by his impromptu proposal. Well, he'd had time to think things over, plan his next move. He needed to show her some romance—she said she wouldn't be moved by a truck full of roses, but he suspected her resolve would weaken if he put in a bit more effort.

  If her ex had run off on her, she'd never known romance. That was his conclusion, and he aimed to test his theory tonight.

  It would require Cricket's and Priscilla's help, however. "Good cookie," he said, biting into a frosted snowman. "I like having women in my kitchen."

  "You know, cowboy," Priscilla said, "you may be cute, but I'm not sure you're all that bright."

  "However," Cricket said, going over to pat his biceps, as if she was flirting with him—and he knew she most definitely wasn't so something was up, "he's more than cute enough to babysit our sweet angels."

  Suzy glanced up. "Oh, no, I don't think so, Cricket."

  "Sure," Cricket said smoothly. "Cute and smart enough for little girls who are nearly two, aren't you, Dane?"

  "Why? What's up?" He wondered if that meant he might get some alone time with Suzy, which he badly needed. He wanted to press his case with her, and he needed one-on-one time to do that. A man couldn't turn on the romance with all these women in his house—although the eats were pretty good. He snagged another cookie. "There's probably someone in Union Junction who babysits, if you really need help, Suzy."

  "Nope," Cricket said. "We have our own built-in baby bodyguard. And you'll do just fine while we go pick out drape fabric. We aren't crazy about the fabric your dad chose."

  Dane began
to realize that the ladies were serious. He was attached to Sandra and Nicole, but he wasn't certain he was cut out to babysit. It would be a way to find out if he had any fathering proclivities, though.

  "That's a fabulous idea, Cricket." Priscilla took off her apron. "Dane, do you mind if we leave this mess here for you to clean up? The little girls should be done with their naps about the time you're finished. Come on,

  Suzy," she said, tugging at the tie on the back of Suzy's apron. 'There's probably only a couple of hours left until the fabric store closes, and we need to measure those casements."

  "J can help measure," Dane said hopefully, trying to earn his way out of the babysitting job. "We could all go to the fabric store."

  Suzy shook her head. "The last place a man should probably ever go is the fabric store. All the choices would make your head spin."

  "Correct as that may be," Dane said, "won't taking care of tiny, busy kiddies make my head spin?"

  "Definitely," Suzy said, smiling up at him. Finally! "And by the way, we gave Pete a letter we found in a kitchen drawer. Two, actually, but one was addressed to Jack. They were from your father."

  "Letters from my father?" Dane asked. "Anything for me?"

  "This isn't a post office. It was just a chance find in the pot holder drawer, of all places. Don't know how they got stuck in there." Suzy put away her apron. "One letter for Pete, one for Jack. He read Jack's and then he left. He didn't even take a cookie with him."

  "Did Pete say when he'd be back?"

  "No," Suzy said. "We're making dinner, so I assumed he'd be back for that. You Morgan men seem happiest when your stomachs are full."

  "This is true," Dane said, but he had the feeling it would be awhile before he was happy again.

  "I'm not sure about leaving Dane with the girls," Suzy said ten minutes later as the women drove away from the Morgan ranch.

  "No worries,*' Cricket said. "He'll enjoy trying on fathering duties."

  "It'll be good for him," Priscilla said. "This way, all the skeletons are out of the closet."