The Rancher's Twins. Carol Ross
up his best poker face, Jon shook his head. “He does not. Usually, just me. But when you shout at him like that he’s bound to listen.” He glanced at Trout, who was giving him an expectant look. Jon signaled his release and the dog trotted over to his water dish.
“I didn’t shou—” The furrow in her brow was downright cute and he couldn’t maintain a straight face. “Oh. You’re joking?”
He chuckled. “I am.”
The sound of her laughter filled the room, working into him in a very nice way. Jon kept his eyes on her because she was focused on Trout.
“Did you tell him something with your hand?”
“Yep.” He moved around the island to take a stool. Not only had she gotten the girls dressed for the day, but she’d also taken care of herself. Her clothing choice was a sight more practical than her getup of the day before. In her snug jeans, stocking feet and button-down shirt, with a tank top peeking out the top, she could almost pass for a local girl. Almost.
“Incredible. I’ve never met such a well-trained dog.”
“It’s not training, not really.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s more like understanding. Dogs are special that way. They’re like friends. Treat them right and most of them will do about anything for you. Just gotta figure out how to ask.”
“Hmm. That’s nice. You obviously have good friends.” She’d been whisking the eggs, and she poured them into the pan and stirred. She removed the pancakes and bacon from the oven and fixed his plate.
He watched her, mesmerized by the way she moved, fluid and efficient, like a swan or some other graceful, pretty bird.
“You know your way around a kitchen.”
“That I do.” She paused to look at him like she was going to tell him something important. “And I have to say, yours is incredible. Like my dream kitchen.”
“Thank you.” He felt himself smiling at the enthusiasm in her tone. He’d designed the space himself and it was nice to hear a cook appreciate it. “Self-taught?”
“That nana I mentioned last night taught me the basics and then I had a few restaurant jobs over the years. I worked for a caterer and a bakery, too, so lucky you.” With a wink, she pushed his plate across the counter and handed him silverware. “I guess I should ask if cooking is part of my job. I mean, if the girls mostly eat with you in the bunkhouse?”
“That’s expediency, because it’s calving time. I try to cook for us when it’s not.”
Looking thoughtful, she turned and poured herself a cup of coffee. When she faced him again, her expression was twisted up a bit and he knew she had something to say.
“So now that I’m here, I’ll be cooking, and they can eat with me. I think they need to learn some table manners. And I’d like to suggest we have dinner together, or you should have dinner with them at least because...” She added an earnest look. “Because family dinners are important.”
Did she think he didn’t know this about his girls? It stung a little but at the same time he appreciated that she spoke her mind. This was only one small part of the reason he needed her. Well, not her, but a nanny.
“I agree with that.”
“Good.” As she leaned against the counter, he caught a nice view of the pale skin of her face and neck. The creamy smoothness was nearly perfect, a testament to the hours she spent indoors. Unlike him.
“This is all delicious,” he said, because it was and because he realized she was watching him. “These pancakes might even be as good as Willa’s.”
“Ha. I’m sure they’re better.” She added a confident nod. “But who is this Willa competing for my top pancake honors? I hereby challenge her to a pancake throw-down.”
Jon laughed even as he wished she’d quit being so likable. It made this so much more difficult. “Willa Carnes, my neighbor. My best friend Zach’s mom. You met Sofie last night. She’s married to Zach. Willa is her mother-in-law.”
“Ranchers?”
“Yep.”
“Hmm. Lots of ranching going on around here, huh? Scooter mentioned a place called Blackwell Guest Ranch?”
“Yep, that would be my grandfather’s place.”
“Big E?”
Jon wasn’t surprised she’d already heard his name. The man was, if not infamous, then certainly renowned. “Elias Blackwell is his name but most everyone calls him Big E.”
“Does he live there with your parents?”
“He did, and so did I, until they died.” Jon managed to keep his voice flat and even, but it still surprised him how much it hurt to say the words out loud.
“Oh. I’m so sorry.” Sincerity infused her tone, making Jon suspect she was no stranger to grief herself. “Do you have other family?”
“Four brothers.” He scooped up another bite.
“Do they live on the ranch?”
“Not anymore.”
“Older or younger?”
“I’m the oldest. Three years younger are Ethan and Ben. Then two years after them, Chance and Tyler.”
“Wait, wait!” Hand up, she took a second to absorb that news. “Back the tractor up—your brothers are twin twins?”
“Twin twins?” He chuckled. “I don’t think I’ve heard that one before. Did you make that up?”
“I don’t know.” Grinning, she shook her head. “There’s just so many twins. And you have twins. It’s...”
“It is a fact that I have been the odd man out my entire life.”
Inquisitive blue eyes searched his before exploring the rest of his face and then traveling down to his hands and back up again. Her voice edged with wonder and maybe sympathy, she said, “Huh. I can’t imagine...”
She couldn’t. No one could. Being surrounded by twins, and looking after his younger brothers after their parents died, was a unique experience. He knew that. Then, to finally get out on his own, only to accidentally start a family and find out that he would be the father of twins? Honestly, it had felt like a blessing and a curse. And girls, to boot. If there was one area of his life that was his biggest weakness, it would be women. His string of stepgrandmothers hadn’t been interested in fulfilling any type of maternal role. He’d been shy in school and there weren’t any girls his age hanging around the ranch when he was growing up. Katie and her sister Maura were younger and close enough to being family that he hadn’t paid attention in any meaningful way.
He loved his daughters with every fiber of his being, yet his heart was perpetually raw and achy where they were concerned. He knew he wasn’t doing right by them. It seemed as if when things were going well in one area, they were lacking in another. Like if he spent too much time cooking healthy meals, he didn’t have enough left over to read to them. If he was teaching them about the ranch, there was no time for games. If they were riding horses, there was no book learning going on. He spent a lot of time wondering how other single parents got along. But he didn’t want to talk about that.
Shrugging a shoulder, he hoped to throw her off the subject. “It is what it is.”
Her sympathetic smile told him she knew it was more than that, yet she let it go. He appreciated that. “So, do you have like a list for me? I reviewed my paperwork last night and all it says is some cooking, which we just covered, light cleaning, child care and other. We need to talk about that other.”
“We need to have a different discussion.”