Cowboys & Babies Volume 1 From Harlequin: The Texas Ranger's TwinsA Baby in the BunkhouseA Cowgirl's Secret

by Tina Leonard

  The man wasn’t sure what to think about Dane. Dane grinned at him, slapped him on the back and said, “Take good care of them,” as he got into his truck and drove away.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Two hours later, Dane pulled into the Morgan ranch, feeling the familiarity of the surroundings wrap around him like a comfortable blanket. The Winterstones might like their castle, but give him fresh air and wide-open spaces any day. The more time he spent at the ranch, the more he felt himself falling in love with the country, which held a different kind of freedom than he would probably find in Mexico.

  Now he knew he’d simply been running away from the things he needed to face. Like Dr. Winterstone had said, he was a man with no prospects. The good doctor might have decided his daughter wasn’t worth his time, but he had pointed out that Suzy deserved respect and a man who could take good care of her as a provider.

  Dane resolved to do just that. He headed to find his fiancée, discovering her making play-dough art with her toddlers, who were sitting at the little table he’d made for them. They looked so cute—like their mother in adorable miniature. Cricket and Priscilla weren’t there—probably off cooking up wedding plans—so he bent down and kissed Suzy on the lips the way he meant to kiss her every night for the year that they planned to be married. He wasn’t wasting any time. Life was short and needed to be enjoyed to the fullest—or he might end up in a white room with marble statues of dead people wearing persnickety frowns.

  Suzy stared at him in shock when he finally pulled away from her. “Was there a reason for that?”

  “None at all,” he said. “Just be prepared for me to claim my kiss every single night of the year you’ve promised to be married to me. I am not a man who plans to live with regret any longer.”

  “Does that mean you’ve invited your father to the wedding?” Suzy asked.

  “No, it means I asked your father for your hand in marriage, like a proper bridegroom should.”

  Suzy’s mouth fell open. Then a frown gathered on her forehead. “I wish you had not.”

  “I should have told you,” he said, looking down into her eyes, “but I knew you’d try to talk me out of it. There are certain things a man just has to do.”

  She looked away. “I should say thank you, but I’m angry that you went without telling me.”

  “It will be the only time I ever keep something from you,” Dane said, kneeling beside her. “You have my word on that.”

  “Thank you.” She looked at him. “I won’t interfere with your father anymore, either.”

  “Not possible.” He shook his head. “Pop loves to be interfered with. All the drama and intrigue keep his heart beating.”

  “I hope my parents treated you somewhat kindly,” she said, her posture stiff.

  He could tell her feelings were badly bruised by her parents’ attitude. Glancing over at Sandra and Nicole and their play-dough art, it wasn’t too hard to see why Suzy would feel pained by her folks’ abandonment. “Growing up with Pop was good training for dealing with people like your parents,” he said simply. And then it occurred to him that Pop, rough in his ways as he was, had been trying to raise his sons with a shield of armor to protect them from the occasional unkindnesses of life. “Actually, your folks made Pop seem generous in the emotions department.”

  She hesitated. “I’m past needing their approval.”

  She wasn’t and he knew it. “I’m sure they’ll thaw in time. In the meantime, we know why we’re getting married. Nothing’s changed.”

  Her expression went blank. She put away the children’s crafts and washed their hands, quietly taking the girls upstairs without another word to Dane.

  SUZY COULDN’T EXPLAIN her sadness to Dane. It was humiliating that her parents could act so rudely. Dane hadn’t told her all the details, but she knew the icy Winterstone treatment of outsiders to their social circle. She knew exactly to what he’d been subjected.

  He’d treated her so nicely when he’d returned, trying to protect her pride. She hated that. She didn’t want to be pitied for her parents’ handling of her—and didn’t want Dane to think she would ever turn into someone as cold and emotionless as either of them.

  The whole issue of coldness bothered her. Remote, was what her boyfriend had said, in bed and out of it. That had hurt. He’d compared her emotional aloofness to her parents’. Maybe she had been aloof. Mostly she was shy. As an only child of a family who had staff to do everything for them, she hadn’t known a lot of easy affection. For all their faults the Morgans boasted of—usually proudly—they were an emotional group of men.

  None of them would admit that about themselves. They thought they were so strong and practical in their approach to life. She’d grown up practically, and the Morgans were definitely cut from different cloth. They were hot-blooded, stubborn, determined. Impatient. And proud of holding grudges.

  In her world, people who didn’t fit were simply cut out, like undesirable fabric on a gown. She gently dressed her girls in their nightgowns, smiling at their pleasure in their frilly, long, pink nighties. Slowly she brushed their soft, silky hair, and then helped them brush their very small teeth. This was her favorite part of the evening, the quiet time that she shared only with her girls. Putting away the day’s toys, slipping into clean sheets, reading a story with the girls raptly watching her read every word on every page—and they knew if she skipped anything.

  “Hey.” She heard a knock on the door and Dane’s voice, so she poked her head out of the bathroom.

  “Yes?”

  “Do you have a minute?”

  “I’m getting the girls ready for bed—”

  Sandra and Nicole ran from the bathroom to throw their arms around Dane’s legs, destroying the serenity of the routine. “Sorry about that,” he said, “I didn’t realize it was so late.”

  “It’s all right. Sandra, Nicole, hop up into your beds, please.”

  The girls did as she asked but pulled Dane along with them, handing him their storybook. He looked up at Suzy, his eyes questioning. “I’m being auditioned for a speaking role,” he said, “do you mind?”

  She did, a little selfishly, since these were her treasured moments with her children, and she didn’t want Dane moving further into her heart. Though she hadn’t said it, she was secretly pleased he’d gone to show her father respect. It said that he intended to honor their marriage with the same importance he might attach to marrying a woman with whom he was in love. He treated Sandra and Nicole as if they were very precious to him—maybe even part of his own family.

  She loved that about him.

  She did not want to fall in love with him, though. She couldn’t endure another heartbreak. Nor did she want her girls to suffer heartbreak. They were young, they’d hardly know when Dane left. But Suzy would remember for them.

  She steeled her nerves. “Please go right ahead. I’ll use the time to write down the flowers I want to carry in my bouquet. Cricket insists she can make the bouquet herself, so she wants a list.”

  He grinned. “Resourceful.”

  She nodded. “Wait until you see the dress they chose.”

  His grin widened. “Really?”

  “It’s very simple, very lovely. What I would have always wanted,” she said.

  “How did they do that?”

  He seemed genuinely interested—unlike most men would be about women’s clothing—so she said, “Priscilla said she had a friend in Tulips, Texas, who designed gowns. She described what I wanted, and it turned out her friend, Liberty, had the exact dress in stock.”

  Dane was still grinning. “I can’t wait for the wedding night.”

  She froze, and he did, too.

  Neither of them said a word. Their gazes met for a long, painful moment, before Sandra jostled his arm and pointed to the page where he should begin reading.

  The moment broken, Suzy went to find a notepad to make a list, noticing the rapidness of her pulse and the sudden nervousness she felt about her w
edding two nights from now.

  In three nights, she would be sharing a bed with Dane Morgan. It was all she could do to make herself breathe deeply, calmly. But the strange thing was, she wasn’t sure if she was excited or panicked—or both.

  IT WASN’T EASY BEING A MAN. Dane knew that women thought guys just operated on sex and other basic behaviors that resulted in their own pleasure—like sleeping and eating—but what Suzy didn’t know is that she was driving him nuts. He couldn’t stop thinking about her, and that alone was enough to make him sleepless and edgy.

  At some point, she’d gotten to him, just like Pete had said.

  He supposed he’d fallen first for her children—a strange thought for a hardened bachelor. But meeting Suzy’s parents had awakened in him a realization that he and Suzy were kindred spirits. They belonged together.

  Maybe it was just her father’s anger and disapproval that made him want to be her armor against the storms, protecting her from her parents’ coldness. But that didn’t explain the hunger for her that assailed him at every opportunity. He found himself wanting to touch her, to be with her, to sneak a kiss from her whenever he could.

  After the wedding, he planned to kiss her often, until she matched his need for her.

  He called Gabriel to ask him to be his best man. Gabriel suggested Mason Jefferson to be an usher and offered to call him. After he hung up, Dane wondered what else he should do. What else fell under the groom’s responsibilities?

  “Hey!” Dane heard whispered urgently at his bedroom door. “Dane!”

  Sounded like Pete. If he kept on like that, he might wake the little girls. Dane opened the door, shocked to find Jack outside.

  “Jack! What the hell?” Dane said, relieved and yet somewhat freaked out to see his long-lost brother.

  Jack slipped inside the room. “You look good.”

  Dane closed the door. “Thanks. You look tired.”

  Jack nodded.

  “How’d you know this is my room?”

  “Only light on upstairs that I could see from the ground floor. The ladies are in the kitchen poring over flower book arrangements.”

  His brother was leaner, longer, whip-thin. Dane could hardly believe it was Jack in the flesh and not some road-worn ghost. “Have a seat,” he said, pointing to his desk chair.

  “Can’t. Have to hit the road. Heard through the grapevine that you’re getting hitched,” Jack said.

  “Grapevine?”

  “Pete left a note for me at the rodeo, along with an artifact he found from Pop.” Jack pulled it out. “The old man is determined to make my life miserable.”

  “Well, not just yours. What did the letter say? Wait, how the hell does Pete know I’m getting married?”

  Jack shrugged. “He said it was only a matter of time before you fell under the bus.”

  “The bus?”

  “Pop and his planning. The runaway bus.”

  “Oh, jeez.” Dane rubbed his chin. “So, anyway. Why are you here? There has to be a darn good reason.”

  Jack nodded. “This letter from Pop is bad luck for me. I can’t ride with this hanging over my head.”

  Dane blinked. “Superstitious?”

  “Oh, yeah. They say the sins of the father are visited on the sons, you know.”

  “Something like that.”

  Jack leaned forward. “The letter says,

  Jack,

  I tried to be a good father. I tried to save you from yourself. In the end, I realized that you are too different from me. But I was always proud of my firstborn son.”

  He looked up at Dane. “Bad karma.”

  Dane hesitated. “I didn’t know Pop could express emotion. Doesn’t that seem positive?”

  Jack shook his head. “Dane, I can’t pick up where we left off over ten years ago. I can’t just forgive the old man. That may sound harsh, but he was a terrible father. Riding bulls is the only time I’m free from him.”

  Dane didn’t figure he was ever free from the old man, not since he’d returned to the ranch. “I don’t think he wants us free. Isn’t that the purpose of getting us all out here?”

  “Precisely. Pete’s note said that this letter was found in a kitchen drawer. I think Pop meant for me to have it after—”

  Dane frowned. “After?”

  Jack sighed. “This is a goodbye letter.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Unease swept Dane. He stared at Jack, who seemed completely convinced of his hypothesis. “I saw Pop last June. He was as ornery as ever, which I would take as a sign he’s not on his way to St. Peter’s gates.”

  “Okay,” Jack said, “but I hear he’s been putting the pressure on for grandkids.”

  Dane shrugged. “I don’t know that it’s pressure exactly—”

  “Are you getting married because of Pop?” Jack asked, crossing his arms.

  Dane considered Jack’s question. “Maybe in the beginning I was—”

  A frown crossed Jack’s face. “Maybe in the beginning you were? What does that mean?”

  “A million dollars is a lot of money. My plan was that I’d marry Suzy, like I figured Pop had planned, make nice for the year I was supposed to live here, and give her a cut of the money.” Dane didn’t feel good confessing any of that—it was no wonder Suzy wasn’t jumping into his arms for romance now.

  “What million dollars?” Jack demanded.

  “I don’t think you ever got a letter,” Dane said slowly, “I know Gabriel did. Pete did, too.”

  “What letter?” Jack asked impatiently. “I just read you the only letter I’ve received from Pop since that night.”

  Dane didn’t have to ask what night. “The letter asking each of us to live here for a year, be a family. At the end of the year, each of us gets a million dollars.”

  Jack’s eyes went wide. “And you still don’t think this is a goodbye letter from a dying man? That order right there should have rung some warning bells for you. The prodigal father suddenly wants to be The Waltons? Wants the family to reunite? How was that supposed to happen? Over home movie reels and popcorn?” Jack snorted. “A million dollars doesn’t buy love.”

  Dane thought that was probably true. Certainly it hadn’t brought him closer to his brothers, his father or Suzy. “I was willing to go along with it because I needed the money.”

  “Everyone needs money, Dane. You think I ever win at rodeo?” Jack’s eyes went hard and flat.

  “Don’t you?”

  “Hell, no. Once, a long time ago, I won a small rodeo in a remote town up north. Can’t even remember where I was. This was years ago. It paid out a couple of dinner tickets, a pair of boots and a hundred bucks, along with my entry fee. I don’t have a truck. I pay for health insurance with what little place money I win. Believe me, just covering the health insurance as a rider is no picnic. I understand needing money. But I wouldn’t be an indentured servant to Pop for it.”

  “That’s what was bothering me. I didn’t want to be indentured.”

  Jack jabbed a finger into Dane’s chest. “Don’t get married. You get roped twice.”

  Dane shook his head. “It was the money that bothered me, not the marriage. So what do you do all the time if you don’t win? Why do you do it?”

  Jack shrugged. “I like rodeo. It’s my home. All my friends are there, like family. They are my family. I can count on them to give me a hitch to the next place, be there for me when I have a bad ride. It’s hard to explain, but even if I don’t win, I feel I’m still winning in life being around the rodeo. I see the country. And I don’t owe anybody a thing.”

  “Okay. Still, here you are.” Dane thought there had to be a reason his brother had shown up at the ranch.

  “Because of this letter.” Jack waved it in the air. “Pop’s trying to put the curse of guilt on me.”

  “So tear it up.”

  “It’s not that easy,” Jack said. “The blessing of the father is very important. Was all through the Bible. Pop’s never blessed me. Or any o
f us. But the past has to stay in the past in order for us to live our lives. We can’t go back,” he told Dane, his expression sincere. “You’ve heard the old expression, ‘You can’t go home’?”

  “We don’t want to go back,” Dane pointed out. “What will it take for you to turn this letter into good karma? So that you can go on with your life and ride off into the sunset on a mean bounty bull?”

  “I don’t have to do anything because you’re in the best position to turn the karma around. It’s your wedding,” Jack said. “Therefore, fortune is smiling on you. You have to find out what’s wrong with Pop and fix it. Otherwise we’ll never be free of him. I know you think I’ve been bucked off one too many times, but the old man’s setting us up for being ruled from the grave.”

  Dane swallowed. “Maybe whatever it is can’t be fixed.”

  Jack looked at his letter again. “He was never proud of me. That’s what’s so strange about this whole thing.”

  There was no arguing with that. Pop had hated the one thing Jack loved.

  “He’s dying,” Jack said. “Or he wouldn’t be looking for redemption, which he isn’t getting from me. Forgiveness isn’t something I’ll be giving him on his deathbed.” He gave Dane a mirthless smile. “You see why I know this is bad karma. We’re supposed to honor our parents.”

  “Oh, hell,” Dane murmured, “I called him the other day, and he’s the same cold, remote person he always was. If you want this karma thing off your chest, call him and tell him you got his letter but not to bother in the future. It’s not like he’s found you a bride or anything. Or even tried to lure you home like he did the rest of us.”

  Jack stood. “You need to find out what the problem is. It’ll bug you until you do.”

  “Thanks,” Dane said. “Anyway, any problem Pop has, I can’t solve.”

  “But at least,” Jack said, “you can make the effort to let him know three-quarters of the family cares. Everybody wants to know their family cares, even gnarly old Pop. Best of luck with the wedding, even though I don’t believe in getting married under the gun.” Jack saluted him and slipped out the door.