Texas Christmas Twins. Deb Kastner

       Chapter Three

      Back in the barn, the strain that had occurred between Simon and Miranda in the house—because he refused to analyze and recognize it as any more than that—appeared to have dissipated as their thoughts returned to Shadow and her puppies. She was still scratching around in her whelping box and the puppies hadn’t arrived yet. The twins, worn out from their excitement with the Westies, were both sound asleep on the quilt.

      “I usually exercise the dogs by riding around my acreage with them,” Simon explained, gesturing to his sorrel quarter horse gelding Dash, who was set up in a nearby stall.

      “Some of my rescues like to run more than others. I’ve got a few couch potatoes who don’t want to leave the house, but they all need fresh air and exercise. There’s a small lake on the northwest corner of my property that my Labs can’t get enough of. They’d stay in the water forever if I let them, and I could toss tennis balls all day and they wouldn’t tire of it. I also keep a few head of cattle for the herding dogs to practice on.

      “But ever since my first run-in with Blanche, I’ve been avoiding the land to the south, for the most part. My dogs generally don’t go anywhere near the south fences, although from time to time they slip away from me. But I’ve been more aware of it. No sense stirring up trouble if I can help it. That’s why I was so surprised to see her today.”

      “You don’t think she’ll really follow through with her threat to call the cops on you, do you? She sounded pretty serious about it.”

      He shrugged. “She hasn’t yet, and she’s been making that same threat since the first time she confronted me about my dogs. But it wouldn’t surprise me if she did call this time. She was certainly in a tizzy today.”

      “Yes, but what does she really have to complain about? Everything you do is on the up-and-up, and in my opinion, is a ministry to the animals. There’s nothing for an animal control officer to find.”

      Simon’s gaze widened on her and he suddenly had a hard time swallowing around the emotions that had clogged in his throat.

      Miranda thought he was doing something special—something she even qualified as worthy of the Lord to bless.

      “I do it for the dogs,” he insisted, his voice gravelly. It hadn’t occurred to him until this moment to give his work to the Lord to bless.

      He crouched in front of the whelping box to see how Shadow was faring.

      “Exactly,” Miranda agreed pleasantly. “For the dogs. That’s what makes what you do so wonderful. Plus, I don’t know how Blanche can possibly go to the police about this. The woman was trespassing on your proper—”

      She cut off her sentence in the middle of a word.

      Simon grinned. She must have seen the roly-poly bundle of fur that had arrived when they were otherwise engaged.

      “A puppy is here.”

      Indeed, there was one tiny, squirming puppy being groomed by its attentive mother.

      Simon picked up a warm towel from a stack that he had at the ready, heated by a nearby warming lamp.

      Gently, he scooped the puppy into his hands.

      “Here,” he said, handing the pup to Miranda.

      “It’s white,” she exclaimed. “Is that normal?”

      “All Australian cattle dogs are born white, but their true colors come on fairly quickly. Back when the breed was first started, Dalmatians were bred into the stock. Hence the white coat.”

      He put his hands over hers and showed her what to do. Her skin was soft against the calluses of his, and suddenly it felt as if his fingers had thousands of tiny nerve endings crackling.

      “Dry him off a bit. Give him a gentle rubdown to help his circulation and breathing. Then we’ll put him back in with mom.”

      “Is he sick?” she asked in dismay.

      “What? No,” he answered. “This one is healthy, as far as I can tell. We’re just giving him a little extra triage.”

      “This one?” She smiled as her tiny puppy wriggled in her palm. “Does that mean there are more coming?”

      “Four more, if the ultrasound was accurate. You can put that little guy back in with his mama now, if you want.”

      Simon watched as Miranda gently returned the puppy to the warmth of the whelping box. For a woman who’d told him flat out that she wasn’t a nurturer, she certainly looked that way to him.

      Not just with the puppy, but with the twins, as well, if he was being honest. Maybe he didn’t have so much to worry about, after all.

      He turned his attention to Shadow, who had just delivered puppy number two, a girl.

      He waited until Shadow had cleaned the pup off and then scooped her into a towel as he’d done with the first puppy and handed her to Miranda. Puppies three and four soon followed, and they repeated the process.

      She was staring at him with an odd expression on her face that made his gut tighten.