The Rancher's Texas Twins. Allie Pleiter

       Chapter One

      Gabriel Everett had one job.

      Well, two actually. One was standing in front of him, and the other was nowhere to be found. Spring in Haven, Texas, was shaping up to be one giant mess after another.

      “So you’ll consider it?” he said to the young woman sitting on the Haven Boardinghouse front porch. More like standing, for the pair of little girls at her feet hadn’t let poor Avery Culpepper sit still for very long as he tried to hold a serious conversation. “You’ll stay on just a couple more weeks until the celebration?” Gabe wasn’t much for pleading, but she’d talked of heading back home and there was a lot at stake here. He had no intention of being the failing link in the long chain of events that led to the future success of the Lone Star Cowboy League Boys Ranch.

      “Well,” said Avery, handing a marker to one of her girls, “there’s a reason I didn’t respond to Darcy Hill’s attempts to reach me. I didn’t really want any part of this to begin with. And now, I have to say this isn’t turning out well.” One of the little girls began bickering with the other over the red marker. “I can’t exactly put my life in Tennessee on hold while you all...look out!”

      The box of markers tumbled off the table, covering Gabe’s left boot in a cascade of colors. One of the girls lunged after the spill and careened into Gabe’s shin. Was it Debbie at the table, so Dinah was clinging to his leg? Or the other way around? He couldn’t keep the four-year-old twins straight—did Debbie have the darker hair or did Dinah? Then again, did it really matter which pair of hands was now smearing marker on his jeans?

      “Oh, Dinah, look what you’ve done.” Avery fished in her pocket and pulled out a lint-covered tissue as Debbie began to chatter an explanation—or an excuse. Gabe waved off the suspicious tissue and instead began wiping at the purple streak with his own handkerchief. His housekeeper, Marlene Frank, would have fun trying to get that stain out.

      Avery already sported three similar stains of her own. He’d met this young mother only a handful of times since Darcy had convinced her to come to Haven, but already it stumped him how the poor woman made it through the day with her sanity intact. Kids mostly annoyed him—how did she stand that whining hour after hour? A single mom with twin four-year-olds—that was the very definition of outnumbered in his book.

      Appeal to her practical side, maybe, he thought. “I find it hard to believe you don’t want to know what your grandfather’s will has in store for you. Could be an explanation. Or an apology for the way he wasn’t there for you. Or maybe he’s left you something significant, something you could really use.”

      She blew her chin-length brown hair out of her face with a frustrated huff. “What I could have really used was to have a grandfather in my life. I doubt there are any pleasant surprises in that will, Mr. Everett. And in all honesty, I’m starting not to care.”

      She seemed so weary and bitter, Gabe found himself amazed Darcy had gotten her here at all. “What if it’s enough money to get you well settled with the girls?”

      “Who says I’m not well settled in Tennessee? I have a job, Mr. Everett. I have clients and decorating jobs waiting on my return. We have a house in Dickson. It may not seem like much to a big rancher like you, but it’s the place the girls have known all their lives. I can’t imagine needing whatever is in that will.”

      He noticed she had not mentioned friends or family. And she’d said house not home. Avery Culpepper might not have much, but she surely had her pride. “Please stay,” he said as congenially as he knew how. “I know it’s asking a lot, but lots of boys’ welfare depends on us meeting the requirements of your grandfather’s will. And you’re one of those requirements, even though I know that doesn’t sit well with you.”

      “You’re right. It doesn’t.”

      “Haven’s full of good people. Kind folks I know would help with the girls while you’re here and all.” He was desperate for any argument that would convince the woman not to head back to Tennessee.

      Exhaustion pulled at her pretty features. His mother had worn herself thin trying to raise him all on her own, and there had been only one of him. Almost every memory he held of his mother contained the same bone-tired countenance Avery Culpepper now wore. The pain that singed her brown eyes told him she was feeling alone, used and overwhelmed.

      Could he really blame her for being ready to put the drama of Haven behind her? Her estranged grandfather, Cyrus Culpepper—who was evidently just as ornery on both sides of the grave—had ignored her all her life only to demand her appearance now. Half the town had been on a wild-goose chase to find her and bring her here. And to receive what? So far Cyrus had bequeathed her just a run-down cabin. True to Cyrus, he’d hinted that there might be more. Only how much more—and what—was anybody’s guess until they opened a designated envelope at the seventieth anniversary celebration of the boys ranch a few weeks from now.

      An unusable half an inheritance with a commanded appearance for a mystery other half—that was pure Cyrus. It was just like him to pull some ridiculous stunt as a final goodbye to the town that had put up with his bullheadedness all his life.

      Gabe hated having to plead with this poor young woman. Was Cyrus fool enough to think an inheritance could make up for years of being ignored? At least Gabe had a mom—even if it was a tired one; Avery had been shuttled from foster home to foster home from what he’d heard.

      No, Avery had dozens of reasons not to go along with that old curmudgeon’s ridiculous set of final demands. Only Gabe didn’t have the luxury of her refusal.

      The eyes of the ranch’s residents—problem kids through little fault of their own, just like he’d been—seemed to stare down the back of his neck as if the boys stood behind him. Tomorrow is March 1. The clock was ticking on the March 20th deadline for the anniversary celebration. Keep her here. Do whatever it takes. Grinding his teeth, angry that a coot like Culpepper could still stir up such trouble from the grave, Gabe tried again. “Please say you’ll stay. Just until we get this all straightened out. We’ll all pitch in to make it as easy on you as possible.” He hated that it sounded like he was begging. He hated even more that he was begging.

      “I don’t know.” She didn’t look at all convinced. She was barely paying him any attention with the wiggly girls skipping all around the porch as they played some noisy singsong of a game. Mercy, but there was a good reason he’d never married or started a family. Gabe’s fingers twitched as if he could reach out and grab Cyrus’s spindly neck and shake the endless meanness from the man. “Honestly,” she continued as she grabbed Debbie just before the girls started skipping in circles around each other. “I just can’t see how...”

      The porch door swung open and a very irritated Roz Sackett emerged holding a frilly doll. Oh, no. Roz owned the boardinghouse, and her doll collection was her pride and joy. Everyone in town knew it. Everyone also knew Roz was not a woman known for grace or patience. One look at the colored smears on the doll’s china face told Gabe that Roz had reached the end of her already-short fuse.

      “Miss Avery,” the innkeeper began in a clipped tone, “I’ve told you more than once to keep those girls away from my collection.”

      At the sight of what was evidently her handiwork, Dinah left her skipping to head over toward the delicate doll. “She’s pretty. Can I hold her?” Gabe grabbed the girl before she could reach her target. Nobody dared mess with Roz’s precious doll collection—but Debbie and Dinah didn’t know that.