The Rancher's Twins. Carol Ross

The Rancher's Twins - Carol  Ross


Скачать книгу
grabbed Sofie’s hips, turning and pulling her in close for an embrace. He kissed the top of her head.

      Jon smiled, even as the love between these two generated a touch of envy. Had he ever had anything approaching that with his ex-wife? Looking back, he didn’t think so. He and Ava’s relationship had been fire and ice from the moment they’d met, one extreme or the other. They’d never seemed to find that sweet smoldering spot in between.

      Zach said, “Hey, I’ve gotta run. I’ll see you at home, Sofe.”

      Sofie gave him a quick kiss and stepped away. “Okay, I’ll be along in a bit. Corn bread is still in the oven.”

      Jon resisted the urge to cringe at the mention of Sofie’s cooking. He told his friend goodbye and turned back to Sofie. “I need to go put in a load of laundry. I’ll be right back.”

      “I could have done that. Why didn’t you say something earlier?”

      “I didn’t have any to do earlier.” He winked at her and headed to the laundry room to put the nanny’s new sheets in the wash.

      “Where are the girls?” he asked when he returned. Trout was still in the kitchen, sniffing the room’s perimeter for the customary bread-crust bits and cracker crumbs the girls regularly left behind. If Gen and Abby were anywhere nearby, the dog would be hanging out with them by now.

      “Tom took them out to see the foal.” Tom was Jonathon’s foreman and only full-time employee. Since it was calving season, the bunkhouse currently lodged a few extra cowboys who worked for him seasonally. Which reminded him of Katie and the bind Big E had left her in. She’d told him one of her hands had quit, which meant she was already short on help. Although, thankfully the guest ranch employees wouldn’t be arriving for at least another month or so.

      While the family’s Blackwell Ranch was both a working cattle ranch and a dude ranch, Jon’s focus was strictly on cattle. While he disliked the dude ranch, it was his grandfather’s methods regarding the cattle ranch that was the source of contention between Jon and Big E.

      Which brought him back around to the information he’d learned about his grandfather earlier; Big E was AWOL. Irritation overrode the concern he’d felt in Grace’s office when Katie assured him that Big E was fine; he wasn’t technically a “missing person” by the legal definition. She just didn’t know where he was right at this moment. The week before, he and Zoe had taken off in their motorhome. This didn’t surprise him, as Zoe was always trying to talk Big E into anything that would get her away from the ranch, a ranch she was constantly trying to “improve.” Meaning, she wanted it to make more money. Jon didn’t care. What his grandfather did with Zoe was his business. But during calving season? It was the busiest time of year on a cattle ranch.

      Katie had reminded him that no one could sign on the account to pay the bills except Elias or one of his grandsons. In other words, Jon or one of his four brothers had to sort this out. Unfortunately, his brothers all lived out of state. On Jon’s promise to take care of the bill, Grace had given Katie leave to purchase what she needed.

      The part that chafed at Jon was that Big E had inconvenienced both him and Katie in the process. He was going to have to track down his grandfather. And in the meantime, if Big E and Zoe didn’t show up tonight, he would be forced to head over there and figure out what needed to be done so that Katie could keep things running smoothly.

      Sofie was peering out the window above the sink. “Wait... Is that a car coming up the drive?”

      Jon joined her. The vehicle drew closer and he could see it wasn’t a rig belonging to anyone he knew.

      The nanny.

      A lightness unfurled inside his chest, which had felt unbearably heavy for so long it was like he had an anvil for a heart. Maybe his girls could finally become the kids he knew they had the potential to be, have the life they deserved. Or as much of one as he could give them. What they deserved was a mom, but there wasn’t anything he could do about that.

      He warned himself not to pin too much hope here. But that felt a lot like trying to push raindrops back into a storm cloud. And besides, he wouldn’t want to. He knew it was far from poetic, but he and the girls were like the parched ground after a long drought, eager and hungry to soak up every bit of life-giving water they could get. And this nanny... This nanny was the rain.

      * * *

      LYDIA CLIMBED OUT of the SUV and took in the sprawling, pale gray, white-trimmed home before her. Not overly large, but certainly not small, and everything looked neat and tidy and...new. Huh.

      For some reason, she’d been expecting one of those ancient two-story farmhouses with half-finished projects and rusty tools scattered around outside. Inside there’d be faded, gingham curtains, noisy pipes and lots of tiny rooms with creaky floors. Basically, her nana’s little farm in upstate New York—the home Lydia had shared with her for the only two truly good years of her childhood.

      She had to admit the JB Bar Ranch was storybook pretty with its neatly painted outbuildings in a matching shade of gray and two large, brick-red barns. Some smaller, greener tufts of grass sprouted here and there in the vast expanse of lawn, promising a lush green mantle once spring pushed into early summer. Reddish brown cows dotted the landscape beyond the barn.

      Inhaling deeply, she attempted to smooth her crumpled wool skirt and silk shirt. She stared down at her expensive, impractical faux-leather boots and wished she’d had time to purchase suitable clothing for her stint as a rancher’s nanny.

      “Not that I know what a rancher’s nanny wears,” she muttered wryly. She didn’t know anything about ranching. Although, aside from the basics of sewing and cooking, she hadn’t known much about waitressing, hair shampooing, baking, catering, dog-sitting, office assisting, or the myriad of other jobs she’d tackled over the years, either.

      Besides, she’d gladly left most of her possessions behind. She didn’t want anything Clive had purchased for her with his dirty money, especially that engagement ring.

      Shaking her head, she looked around to try and get her bearings and gather her shredded confidence. A lack of options was an incredible motivator and soon had her navigating the neatly cobbled walkway and scaling the steps of the porch.

      A surge of nervous tension welled inside of her as she lifted a hand. The door opened before she could knock to reveal a handsome, serious-faced man and a pretty, smiling woman whose eager expression made Lydia think she was going to angle in for a hug. Then she swung open the screen door and Lydia felt her brain stall.

      “Um... Hi, I’m...sorry. My name is Lydia...Newbury. I think I must have the wrong place? I’m looking for Jonathon Blackwell of the JB Bar Ranch?”

      Jonathon Blackwell was supposed to be a single dad, not one half of an expecting couple. Had there been some sort of a mix-up?

      “No, no, you’re not at the wrong place.” At the woman’s encouraging wave, Lydia stepped inside. “Please, come in. I’m Sofie, neighbor and friend.” Her honey-blond hair was neatly piled high up on her head and her warm brown eyes matched the kindness in her tone. “It’s wonderful to meet you. We’ve been expecting you. Did you have trouble finding the place?”

      “It’s wonderful to be here finally. I’m sorry I’m late. I did have a little trouble finding the place, which would have been a lot of trouble if Deputy Tompkin hadn’t helped me out.”

      Sofie smiled. “Oh, good. Scooter’s great.”

      “Even after that I still wasn’t sure—”

      “Why is that?” the man interrupted, his scowl morphing into more of a glare.

      He’d moved a few steps back and now stood in the doorway leading to the kitchen. Lydia could see gleaming silver appliances behind him. Country music drifted softly from that direction. Tall and nicely muscled, he filled the doorway where he leaned against the wood frame. He slipped a hand into the back pocket of his dingy, faded jeans. All that was missing was a cowboy hat to cover his attractively mussed


Скачать книгу