The Rancher's Texas Twins
Allie Pleiter
Double TroubleRancher Gabe Everett will do whatever it takes to keep Avery Culpepper in Texas until the end of the month. Even if it means inviting the beautiful single mom and her mischievous twin girls to stay on his property. Avery holds the key to saving Haven’s boys ranch, but Gabe won’t let his interest go beyond business. He’s not a family man, and Avery needs someone who will be there for her and her daughters. Yet as the girls overrun his orderly ranch with their tea parties and girly cuteness, Gabe finds himself softening just a little. Could a family to love be exactly what this solitary rancher needs?Lone Star Cowboy League: Boys RanchBighearted ranchers in small- town Texas
Double Trouble
Rancher Gabe Everett will do whatever it takes to keep Avery Culpepper in Texas until the end of the month. Even if it means inviting the beautiful single mom and her mischievous twin girls to stay on his property. Avery holds the key to saving Haven’s boys ranch, but Gabe won’t let his interest go beyond business. He’s not a family man, and Avery needs someone who will be there for her and her daughters. Yet as the girls overrun his orderly ranch with their tea parties and girlie cuteness, Gabe finds himself softening just a little. Could a family to love be exactly what this solitary rancher needs?
“I know I’m gruff with them most of the time…”
Gabe cleared his throat. “And they are all kinds of noisy, but...I have to say... Well, the little pink things have grown on me.”
Once he had spoken the first words, it seemed as if Gabe must spit them all out before he came to his senses. “They steal my time, they invade my study, they run down my hallways, and yet I went crazy thinking about Debbie being hurt. And still, I know the minute she can, Debbie will be right back out on that swing fixing to break the other arm.” He looked up at Avery as though she were a puzzle to solve. “How do you do it?”
Explain parenthood to a bachelor cowboy? She could gather every word in Texas and still not have enough. “You just...do.”
Gabe was trying so hard not to care.
He was failing at it, and in a way that stole her heart no matter what she deemed best for her or the girls.
* * *
Lone Star Cowboy League: Boys Ranch
Bighearted ranchers in small-town Texas
The Rancher’s Texas Match by Brenda Minton
October 2016
The Ranger’s Texas Proposal by Jessica Keller
November 2016
The Nanny’s Texas Christmas by Lee Tobin McClain
December 2016
The Cowboy’s Texas Family by Margaret Daley
January 2017
The Doctor’s Texas Baby by Deb Kastner
February 2017
The Rancher’s Texas Twins by Allie Pleiter
March 2017
ALLIE PLEITER, an award-winning author and RITA® Award finalist, writes both fiction and nonfiction. Her passion for knitting shows up in many of her books and all over her life. Entirely too fond of French macarons and lemon meringue pie, Allie spends her days writing books and avoiding housework. Allie grew up in Connecticut, holds a BS in speech from Northwestern University and lives near Chicago, Illinois.
Dear Reader (#udda3a390-468b-5857-9bb8-da36a273e3de),
Just when we think we’ve got our plans worked out, God goes ahead and throws a huge wrench into them. That’s always for the best, but we rarely see it that way at the time. Gabe thinks he is incapable of the kind of love Avery and her girls need, but the truth is he is more than capable when he breaks the shackles of his past. Avery thinks her heart can’t trust the speed at which it awakens to Gabe, but it’s God’s perfect timing in a place she’d never expect.
I hope this story leads you to look for God’s gifts in unexpected places. I’d love to hear from you! You can reach me on my website alliepleiter.com (http://alliepleiter.com), via email at allie@alliepleiter.com (mailto:allie@alliepleiter.com) or good old-fashioned paper mail at P.O. Box 7026, Villa Park, IL 60181. You can also find me on Twitter @alliepleiter (https://twitter.com/alliepleiter) or on my Facebook Author Page. Drop me a line!
The Rancher’s Texas Twins
Allie Pleiter
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Rejoice before Him—His name is the Lord. A father to the fatherless…is God in His holy dwelling. God sets the lonely in families, He leads out the prisoners with singing.
—Psalms 68:4–6
For Kelly
A mom with grace and humor
Contents
Cover (#ud59db8a7-027a-5614-afe7-c63b6d3e613f)
Back Cover Text (#u2bf8744e-3094-5582-96fa-aed824ce5021)
Introduction (#u597a3361-a9cd-5b69-b4d2-6e62fab0f716)
About the Author (#uf68114ed-ab81-5036-93ea-c8d04b17050f)
Dear Reader (#u5561cb4e-af73-5148-b61b-1c16fe4633be)
Title Page (#ud3396a1d-1296-5957-a885-17e6fd73113d)
Bible Verse (#u4a44cc78-9031-5285-aa32-24361154cea4)
Dedication (#u36303881-53cd-5587-99e9-471bf66ffaf7)
Chapter One (#u39b7d1bf-7dfb-5dc2-90e6-d196be61e8f0)
Chapter Two (#u020510a0-f39c-559a-a609-07ef0d5c4dc8)
Chapter Three (#u080dfc83-a298-5422-b969-3b712fc02e3e)
Chapter Four (#uc4e2e9c6-a1b6-5451-a256-a1429f9bfda6)
Chapter Five (#u1e1b3f7a-a24d-5857-bc1e-4e66013b8e38)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#udda3a390-468b-5857-9bb8-da36a273e3de)
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.
Debbie, not to be bested by her sister, squealed, “Me first!” and darted around the table, rocking it and sending more markers rolling out over the porch floor.
Roz cried out in alarm, holding the doll above her head as if the thing was in mortal danger. While still holding Dinah by one elbow, Gabe managed to wedge a leg in front of Debbie. He’d hoped to simply impede her progress, but ended up tripping her instead, which sent her to the porch floor in tears. Naturally, Dinah began to cry, as well.
“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Sackett,” Avery called over the increasing wails as she ducked around Gabe to reach Dinah and pick up Debbie. “It won’t happen again.”
“Oh, yes, it will,” countered Roz as she continued to hold up the doll, out of little hands’ reach. “Bless your heart, child, I know you’ve got your hands full, but this simply won’t work. They’re too rambunctious.” Given everything that had just happened, Gabe found himself surprised Roz hadn’t called the girls flat-out wild. “I’m at my wit’s end!” the innkeeper declared, throwing up her free hand.
She wasn’t wrong. The girls were wild. That wasn’t necessarily Avery’s fault. From what Gabe knew about four-year-olds—which was next to nothing since the youngest guests of the boys ranch were in first grade—preschoolers didn’t come any other way but rambunctious.
Avery’s eyes went narrow with hurt. “Well, I suppose we’ll just have to head back to Dickson.”
Gabe threw Roz a look he hoped said “we can’t let her leave.” The Blue Bonnet Inn—the only other place in Haven to stay—was full up and, as fancy as it was, would be no place for these youngsters.
Roz threw back an exasperated glare. “Well, I’m sorry to say it, but you can’t stay here.” She didn’t look one bit sorry to have said it. Avery Culpepper didn’t need anyone handing her reasons to leave. Didn’t Roz realize half the town had been working toward meeting Culpepper’s absurd ultimatums—which meant finding Avery and keeping her here—since October?
Do something. Anything. It jumped out of his mouth before he had even a moment to think better of it, the foolish notion of a desperate man. “You don’t need to head back. You can come stay at Five Rocks.”
Roz Sackett’s eyebrows nearly popped through her hairline at the offer. If a face could shout impropriety for no good reason, it was hers.
“With me and Jethro and Marlene,” he clarified immediately, adjusting his hat, which had gone askew in the mayhem. “My housekeeper and her husband live on my ranch with me, remember?”
“Stay with you?” Avery looked shocked. She ought to. He was still shocked he’d made the offer at all.
“No,” Gabe clarified a second time, “with me, my housekeeper and her husband.” When both Avery and Mrs. Sackett still stared at him, he reached down and began gathering the markers off the floor. “If nothing else, four adults might give you a fighting chance against these two.”
Debbie reached over and began picking up markers herself, but ended up knocking Gabe’s hat off his head.
They all fell into stunned silence. No one, especially not a preschooler, knocked a cowboy’s hat off his head. Gabe felt his face tighten into a frustrated scowl before he could stop it. Debbie, cued by his frown, caught on to the grievous nature of what she’d just done. Her bitty blue eyes went wide, the tiny pink lip below them jutted and quivered, and she dissolved once again into tears.
Gabriel Everett now added host to his list of demanding jobs—and it was the one that just might be the death of him.
* * *
Avery was sure she looked exasperated. Mostly because she was. Some days it felt like she hadn’t known a moment’s peace since Danny left.
No one should have to raise two precious little girls on her own. Debbie and Dinah should know their father, should see every day how much daddies loved mommies. How could any man she had been so sure she loved be capable of what Danny had done? Just up and decide that two children at once were too much? Had all his “faith” been false? He’d never been overly free with affection, but lately she wondered if he’d ever really loved her at all. Did the man ever give a thought to his dear daughters and how they fared?
Only her pride made her go on about needing to get back to Tennessee. Dickson was where she lived, where she was trying to make a life without Danny, but the truth was, precious little was back there. A house, a smattering of clients, some acquaintances, but no true friends.
Not that she’d admit any of that to anyone here. Successful businesswomen didn’t up and leave their enterprises for weeks at a time to help with some charity case. She’d end up a charity case herself if she kept that up. Every eye in Haven seemed to stare at her in either expectation or suspicion. And as for the whole town being ready to help, she didn’t much believe that. Not after Mrs. Sackett’s persnickety scrutiny.
“Avery?” Gabe was clearly expecting an answer to his startlingly generous offer. It was clear he would do anything to get her to stay, and the pressure of that choked any reply.
Life had dropped too many emotional bombs since her arrival here to let her think clearly. Coming to Haven had felt like stepping into a crammed-full kind of chaos. Really, who ever discovers they’ve been impersonated? Some gold-digging woman had actually come here earlier claiming to be her. Clearly, she was supposed to be someone important. The whole town was in an uproar over the fate of her grandfather Cyrus’s estate. It had been set—along with a mountain of stipulations, one of which included her presence—to become the new home of a ranch for troubled boys. The huge house went to a worthy cause, while she, evidently his only surviving relative, got a run-down cabin. Everyone wanted something from her despite the fact that she was just trying to hold her life together. Someone important? Ha! The number of nights she fell into bed exhausted and near tears ought to be illegal.
Should she stay? Could she stay?
“You’re serious?” she finally asked Gabe as she tried unsuccessfully to fetch the poor man’s toppled hat. “I mean...look at them.” She loved Dinah and Debbie to pieces, but even she knew they could be a handful. Gabriel Everett did not seem at all like the kind of man who would suffer any children—much less four-year-olds—with any grace.
Time came to a prickly halt while the man bent over, grasped his hat and settled it back on his head. He seemed as shocked at the proposition he’d just made as she was.
“Marlene will love them,” he said almost begrudgingly. “She and Jethro have their grandkids in college now, and Marlene needs someone to coddle. I caught her staring at an ad for puppies the other day.” Avery got the distinct impression he was trying to convince himself as much as her.
“No, I’d expect it would be best if we just went back.”
“You can’t.” He wiped his hands down his face. “I mean, the whole town would be obliged if you’d stay. I’ve got the space, and things aren’t so—” he gestured around the boardinghouse “—fussy out there. Not much they could break or stain.”
Dinah and Debbie had indeed excelled at breaking and staining recently. Mrs. Sackett hadn’t asked her to pay for or replace anything the girls had damaged, but she could tell the woman was getting close to drawing up a bill. The dolls—which they had been warned about several times—were clearly the last straw.
Would it be so awful to stay a bit longer? At a place with extra helping hands? Experienced grandparent hands? “Well,” Avery said, pulling in a deep breath, “I suppose we could give it a try.”
Avery’s eye caught Mrs. Sackett’s hard stare, one that practically shouted “you sure as shooting better give it a try.”
Stay with Gabriel Everett?
Help with the girls was a hard prospect to refuse right about now, even though Haven wasn’t turning out anything like she’d hoped.
“How soon can you take them, Gabe?” Mrs. Sackett asked with a hurtful sense of urgency. Clearly, she meant every word of her threat to toss them out.
“Well, it’s Monday. I think I can have them off your hands by tomorrow noon, Roz. Just a matter of a phone call and a bit of rearranging.” He turned to look at Avery. “If that’s agreeable to you.”
“Well, then, I guess I should thank you kindly for the hospitality,” she said, handing markers to Dinah to put back in the box. Just like that, the girls went back to their coloring. Her sweet little girls had returned—at least until the next calamity.
But something needed to be said. “Just for a week or so. Maybe less. I haven’t made up my mind about anything after that.” She’d gotten the distinct impression that being a Culpepper wasn’t a positive in this town—nothing she wanted a big dose of, for her or the girls.
“Let’s tackle that subject in a day or two.” Gabriel turned his gaze to the innkeeper again. “After all, we can’t have you run out of town now, can we?”
Mrs. Sackett just huffed, held the doll close to her chest as if the thing was alive and turned back toward the door.
“I don’t know.” Resentment at Cyrus for putting her in this position boiled in her blood—right now she could barely bring herself to care about whatever else the old man was leaving her, if anything.
Avery reached down to touch Dinah’s soft brown curls. “They’re not difficult all the time, you know. They really can be sweet as pie some days.”
Gabe returned an orange marker to the table. “I’m sure that’s true.” He didn’t look like he meant it.
“I’m sure the boys ranch is a fine cause, but I need to think about what’s best for the girls, and for me.” Avery hated how tight and forced her voice sounded.
“No one can fault you for that. Just take some time before you decide.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets, looking down at the little girls with a mixture of bafflement and irritation. “Give us a chance to work all this out.”
She didn’t have it in her to fight. At least not today. “We’ll see.”
It wasn’t a yes, but he looked relieved anyway. “I’ll come by tomorrow around eleven and we can load my truck with whatever doesn’t fit in your car. I’ll call Marlene right now. I’m sure it’ll set her into a storm of happy preparations. Is it okay if I give her your phone number if she has any questions?”
“Sure.” The prospect of getting out of the boardinghouse lifted a weight off Avery’s shoulders she hadn’t even realized was pressing down so hard. “Thank you,” she said, fighting the awkward and indebted feeling that settled cold and hard against her rigid spine. “Really. It’s a very kind offer.”
Gabriel shrugged. “I’ve got the space, and nothing gets solved if you leave. It works for everybody.” He seemed more at peace with the idea than he had been even two minutes ago.
That peace wasn’t likely to last. “We’ll see if you say that after twenty-four hours of these two, cowboy,” Avery teased. He couldn’t really know what he was getting himself into, could he?
“I’ve handled far rougher bulls at the ranch. How hard can a pair of little girls be?”
Bless his heart, Avery thought, he’s about to find out.
Chapter Two (#udda3a390-468b-5857-9bb8-da36a273e3de)
Following a mountain of exasperating Lone Star Cowboy League business, Gabe came home that Monday afternoon to find Marlene and Jethro Frank cleaning a batch of old toys. Even the squeal of joy Marlene had given over the phone hadn’t prepared him for just how much the older couple was going to enjoy this spontaneous setup. As he cut the ignition on his truck, Gabe couldn’t help but wonder if he was looking at his last quiet evening on the ranch for a while.
“Evening, Gabriel,” Jethro called from over a bucket of sudsy water. “Just getting things ready.”
Gabe looked to his left to see child-sized pastel sheets hanging on the line. “You had all this?”
“A few calls around church was all it took,” Marlene said with a smile. She chuckled as she handed a bright green doll carriage to Jethro. “Little girls! And twins at that!”
Jethro shot Gabe just a hint of a “you sure you know what you’re doing?” glance, one gray eyebrow raised as he plunged a sponge into the soapy water.
Gabe had no idea what he was doing. He’d been asking himself all afternoon what on earth had made him offer to house Avery and the twins. He didn’t especially like children—but he liked failing a whole town even less.
It wasn’t as if life hadn’t complicated itself tenfold in the past few months. Cyrus’s will was forcing him to hunt down Theodore Linley, his maternal grandfather—someone Gabe never wanted to see again. Worse yet, Linley clearly didn’t want to be found. No one else in Haven had been able to locate him, and even the private investigators hired to find the man had failed.
Cyrus Culpepper’s set of demands was beginning to look more impossible with each passing day.
Desperation, he decided. That’s what made him do it. The desperation he felt to save the boys ranch from losing the larger facilities it so dearly needed.
If necessity was the mother of invention, it seemed desperation was the father of foolishness.
“Supper’s in the slow cooker,” Marlene called as Gabe pulled his briefcase from the truck. His stomach growled at the mention of supper—Gabe hadn’t had time to eat lunch today. He’d spent the time after seeing Avery in an endless stream of appointments for his role as president of the Lone Star Cowboy League’s Waco chapter. The civic organization did important work supporting area ranchers, but lately it seemed the league devoured all his time. Gabe was a highly organized and precise man, and the length of his list of undone tasks was making him nuts. “We’ll eat in thirty minutes,” Marlene advised. “We’ve got enough for Harley, if you want to fetch him over.”
Harley Jones was an old ranch hand who had been here since Gabe’s stepfather owned the ranch. Gabe could never bear to put him off the property, even though the man had long outlived his usefulness.
Much as he liked Harley, Gabe was too tired and hungry for extra faces around the table tonight. In fact, if he thought Marlene would let him get away with it, he’d prefer to spend the evening eating at his desk, working through the pile of emails and other documents that still needed tending today. “Put some in the freezer and I’ll drop a pot of leftovers over on Friday.” Gabe grinned at his cleverness—it might serve him good to pile up a bunch of reasons to visit Harley and escape the house once those girls descended.
Marlene cooed at a doll she had plucked from a box. “Your mail’s on your desk.”
“Thanks. Did you manage to make it out for extra groceries?” he asked as he walked up his ranch house’s wide front porch. The house was expansive—“too large for one man alone” Marlene never stopped saying. He would always point out that he wasn’t alone—he had her and Jethro—but she would just scowl and give him a “you know what I mean” motherly glare.
On his worse days, Gabe called her Meddling Marlene. On his better days, he tolerated her attempts to fix up his life as well as his house with a begrudging affection. Much as he preferred solitude, the Franks were good company. Big-hearted people, faithful, loyal and kind. What would the state of that beloved solitude be after the three weeks he needed Avery to stay? Shredded, no doubt, but the boys ranch was worth the price.
“We stocked up at the store,” Jethro informed him. “Marlene’s baked cookies already.”
Gabe’s stomach paid attention to those words. “Cookies?”
“Gingerbread,” Marlene said. “You don’t want something too sugary with little ones in the house.”
Marlene had better be more worried about her cookie jar being raided by the big guy in the house. “Better hide those cookies,” Gabe teased as he pulled open the door. “I’ve always liked gingerbread.”
“I knew that,” Marlene declared. “Why do you think I made a double batch? No sneaking till after supper, Gabriel.”
Gabe laughed, but detoured through the kitchen to what he knew to be Marlene’s hiding spot. He grabbed half a dozen of the delicious-smelling goodies before dragging himself to his desk. Only a fool would attack the mail on an empty stomach, he justified.
On top of his far-too-tall stack of mail was a hand-addressed envelope from Mike Tower. Gabe smiled as he broke the seal to open an invitation to Mike’s thirty-fifth birthday party in Houston.
That’s why I’m doing this. Mike had been a best friend during Gabe’s years at the boys ranch. They’d both had tough starts in life, but turned out fine. Gabe ran a prosperous ranch and was president of the Lone Star Cowboy League. Mike ran one of Houston’s top law firms. The boys ranch turned lives around and deserved to expand. If he had to suffer a pair of little girls for three weeks—three weeks! He surely hadn’t thought this through carefully—to ensure that the ranch could continue its good work, he could ride it out.
He started to fill out the reply card, then changed his mind and picked up the phone. The mountain of mail could wait another five minutes.
“Howdy there, Gabe!” The sound of a squalling baby filled the air behind Mike’s distinctive drawl.
“Caught you at a bad time, did I?”
“It’s Terri’s night out with the girls. Me and Mikey are just a couple of happy bachelors tonight.”
Gabe winced at the weariness that tugged at the corners of Mike’s joke. “One of you fellas doesn’t sound too happy.”
“Teething,” moaned the new father. “I’ll never take a set of pearly whites for granted ever again. My little buckaroo’s been miserable for days, and he’s taken Terri right down with him. She needed to get out of Dodge tonight, that’s for sure, and I’m coming to realize why.” As if to underscore Mike’s point, Mikey let out an enthusiastic howl.
Gabe tried to imagine the halls of Five Rocks Ranch reverberating with a pair of such howls. Just the five minutes of crying on Roz’s porch had set his nerves on edge. Four-year-olds didn’t cry as much as babies, did they? “I guess I should let you go, then.”
“No, please,” Mike begged above the wailing, “I need the human contact.”
“Aren’t lawyers humans?” Gabe replied with a laugh.
“Only barely. One of my cases has the staff in fits, so work isn’t as much fun as usual. Speaking of fun, how are those investigators working out? My or Phillips’s guys turned up anything on your grandfather yet?” Mike had added the best private investigators he knew to a set hired by local attorney Fletcher Snowden Phillips. All in an effort to find Theodore. All without success. After today’s complication, Gabe had a few choice words for the late Cyrus and his preposterous demands.
Gabe tossed his hat onto the bentwood coatrack that stood in the corner of his office. “Nothing past the jail term we knew about before. Honestly, Mike, it’s like the guy disappeared into thin air. I hate having to hunt him down. The only good side to finding him is that I can finally give him a piece of my mind. What man gives his daughter the slip like that? Leaving Mom and me to scrape by in the world?”
Gabe tamped down the burn of resentment that rose too easily these days and eased himself into the big leather chair behind his desk. Right now he could see exactly why Avery might want to put Cyrus and all of Haven behind her. Not much in life stung worse than being abandoned by the family that was supposed to love and care for you.
He heard Mike’s sigh above the baby’s noisy cries. “Think of it this way. That’s what makes the boys ranch so important. A boy can go so wrong so fast when he’s ignored or abandoned.”
“True, counselor.” Gabe pinched the bridge of his nose and reached for a cookie.
“And that’s why you’ve got to find him,” Mike said. “It’s up to you to ensure the boys ranch won’t lose the chance to expand. That place can’t be sold to a strip mall and half those kids sent elsewhere. You and I both know that.”
“I know, I know. And I’ve gone to extremes, Mike, believe me.”
“How so?”
“I invited the real Avery and her girls to stay here since Roz Sackett was fixing to kick them out of the boardinghouse on account of their ‘rambunctiousness.’”
“You what?” Mike was understandably shocked at a move so far out of character for Gabe.
“You remember Roz Sackett.”
“I remember she can be mean.”
“Mean enough to hand Avery a reason to head back to Tennessee and keep us from our goal. Who boots out a single mom with a pair of four-year-olds?”
“Wait a minute,” Mike said, nearly laughing. “You mean to tell me you invited children to stay at your house? Just how pretty is this single mama?”
Avery Culpepper was pretty, but that didn’t have anything to do with it. Even the prettiest mom, if she came with kids in tow, wasn’t for him. Gabe was many things, but a family man hadn’t ever been one of them. He’d stayed a bachelor all his years by choice, thank you. “I had to keep her from heading out of town, Mike. She’s got to stay for the seventieth anniversary party—you know it’s one of Cyrus’s cockamamy demands. I was fresh out of options.”
“I’ll say. Boy howdy, I’d like to see you with a pair of little girls pulling on your pant legs. Sounds entertaining.”
“About as entertaining as that opera singer you got there,” Gabe joked back. Every minute Mikey kept up the crying dug a deeper hole of doubt regarding what he’d just done in offering his own home. Little girls. What had come over him?
“You coming to my party?” Mike asked. “I mean, if you live that long?”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Gabe growled, thinking it would have been far smarter to just fill out the reply card.
“Good,” Mike replied. “Say, when do the kiddos move in?”
“Tomorrow afternoon.”
Mike laughed. “I’ll call you Thursday and see if you’re still standing. Let me know if my guys find your grandpappy. Sure would be nice if this whole circus actually worked out, but then again, this is Cyrus we’re talking about. Anything could happen.”
“Don’t I know it. Cowboy up and get through the night watch, okay? I’m worried about you.”
“Don’t you worry about me,” Mike responded with a weary laugh. “I’m not the one about to be surrounded by females.”
Gabe ended the call with the sinking feeling that Mike was all too right.
* * *
“This place is huge.” Avery stared down the long hallway that led to the pair of rooms she and the girls would occupy. They had their own wing, which was practically the size of their house in Tennessee. Back at the boardinghouse, they’d been all stuffed into one room with a bathroom down the hall. Avery felt like she hadn’t had the space to take a deep breath since she came to town.
Marlene, Gabe’s wonderfully friendly housekeeper, put an encouraging hand on Avery’s shoulder. “We’ve definitely got room to spare, honey. I’m so glad you took Gabriel up on his offer.” The woman was a natural-born grandmother if ever there was one. The girls had taken to her and her husband, Jethro, instantly. Of course, the freshly baked gingerbread cookies may have had a great deal to do with that, but right now she didn’t care. This place felt miles better than where they had been, and Marlene felt like desperately needed support.
Debbie raced past them, nearly knocking the housekeeper over as she catapulted into the room and flung herself onto one of the two small beds. In seconds Dinah was right behind her, flopping with a squeal onto the bright pink gingham sheets that topped each bed.
“Everything’s so pink, Mama!” Dinah called, arms and legs flailing in little girl delight.
Marlene chuckled. “What little girl doesn’t love pink?” She gave Avery a knowing look. “You’ve got your hands full, bless your heart.”
If I had a dime for every time I heard that, Avery thought. She did hear it all the time. Everyone always said it back in Tennessee, but folks rarely lent a hand to help with the twins. Avery sighed. “I do indeed. I’m sorry for the racket.”
“Don’t you be one bit sorry. Five Rocks is a big and beautiful place, but I’ve always found it far too quiet. Oh, I know Gabriel says he likes his peace and order, but I think it’ll be nice to have some happy noise around for a change,” Marlene said as she walked into the room. “Now,” she said, pointing to one girl, “are you Dinah or are you Debbie? I’m gonna have trouble keeping you two straight.”
Any version of the “who’s who?” game sent Debbie into peals of laughter. “I’m Debbie,” she said, rolling over to grin at Marlene and point at her dark hair.
“Well, I’m glad for that hair,” Marlene said as she eased herself onto Debbie’s bed. “I need all the hints I can get. Tell me, Debbie, are you ready for lunch? I have bologna sandwiches cut out into heart shapes with carrots and sweet, juicy peaches.”
“Dinah’s a notoriously picky eater,” Avery offered from the doorway, hoping to spare dear Mrs. Frank one of Dinah’s all-too-frequent mealtime tantrums.
“Oh, that don’t scare me none. I raised three sons and five grandchildren. I’ve seen it all.” She winked at Avery. “This grandma’s got a few tricks up her sleeve.”
Avery couldn’t help herself. “Use any on Gabe?”
Marlene gave a hearty laugh. “Don’t tell. It works best if we let him think he’s in charge.”
“That’s because I am.” Gabe’s voice came from the hallway behind Avery. His dark eyebrows furrowed down over the man’s astonishingly blue eyes as he peered into the room. “Where’d all this come from?”
“Rhetta’s twins outgrew their beds last year. Jethro went over and borrowed them early this morning.”
“It’s a whole lot of princess pink!” Dinah called with glee.
“I’ll say,” Gabe said, wincing. “My teeth hurt just looking at it.”
“Girls, you should say thank you to...” Avery stopped, realizing she wasn’t quite sure how to finish that sentence. “What do you want them to call you?”
It seemed like a land mine of a question. Gabriel Everett was an imposing figure of a man. Tall and dark-haired with strong, solid features, he certainly wasn’t the “Uncle Gabe” type. Not even “Mr. Gabe.” Still, Mr. Everett sounded like a mouthful for a four-year-old.
“Do they have to call me anything?” Gabe seemed to find the question just as daunting.
“Well, of course they do,” Marlene said.
Gabe gave a bit of a twitch, as if he’d just realized housing the girls was going to mean he’d have to actually talk to them on occasion. Avery would have classified his behavior yesterday as an awkward tolerance—or perhaps it was more of a cornered surrender, now that she thought about it. The discomfort seemed to grow larger as Gabe scratched his chin and considered how the girls should address him. “Mr. Everett?” he offered halfheartedly, as if he couldn’t come up with anything better.
Avery was afraid he’d say that. She really didn’t think she could refuse, so she was especially glad when Marlene countered, “Don’t you think that’s a bit formal for someone their age?” The housekeeper shot a disapproving look Gabe’s way.
Avery was wracking her brains for a suitable moniker when Debbie bounced off the bed and walked right up to Gabe with the air of a woman in possession of the solution. “Boots,” she declared, pointing to Gabe’s large brown cowboy boots.
Gabe looked around, waiting for someone to pronounce what a bad idea that was.
“You can be Mr. Boots!” Debbie said again, this time squatting down to pat her hand up against the dusty leather.
Dinah, not to be outdone, slid off her bed and began to chant “Mr. Boots” while pointing at Gabe’s other leg. Poor Gabe, he’d been christened against his will now; once the girls latched on to something like this, they rarely let go.
“Could have been worse,” Marlene offered with a grin that broadcast just how much she was enjoying this. “They might have picked ‘Mr. Scowl.’”
Avery felt like she had to at least try. “Don’t you think you girls could learn to say ‘Mr. Everett’?”
In reply, the girls only chanted “Mr. Boots!” louder.
“Um, I’ll try to keep that down to a minimum,” she said above the noise as the girls began to circle around Gabe’s legs like little pink cats, patting Gabe’s boots while he stood there in mild shock and not-so-mild annoyance.
Avery was composing a suitable apology when Gabe just seemed to shrug and resign himself to the new nickname. “I’ve been called worse.”
The man was huge and intimidating—she didn’t doubt he’d been called a great deal of things. Only right now, she called him her host, and that deserved whatever kindness she could provide. “If it helps, I promise I’ll never use it.” It seemed slim consolation to a man whose spare bedroom had just been transformed into a tidal wave of pink gingham.
Gabe stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Well, I’d be much obliged for that.”
“Well, I’m making no such promises,” Marlene offered with a wink and a grin. “I rather like ‘Mr. Boots.’”
Gabe gave her a dark look and carefully extracted his long legs from the girls’ endless circles. “I’ve got to return a couple of calls, ladies. Marlene, how long before lunch?”
“We were just discussing lunch now. It’ll be ready in twenty minutes. So no cookies.” Marlene slanted a sideways glance at Avery. “That man always sneaks food into his office.”
“Too late!” Gabe called, and Avery caught sight of the man producing a stack of cookies from his shirt pocket and waving them in the air like a schoolboy who’d just gotten away with a prank. Clearly, Marlene and Gabe one-upped each other on a continual basis.
Such behavior didn’t fit the domineering, driven Gabriel Everett she’d met on her first day in Haven. That man was bent on getting what he needed, pressing for her compliance, pushing hard for whatever it took to secure the boys ranch. His own ranch was huge and clearly prosperous—those sorts of businessmen didn’t sneak cookies or open their homes to little girls.
Of course, Gabe Everett had opened his home because he needed something from her—she knew that. He hosted to keep her from leaving because he needed her here for the celebration. Cyrus’s will stipulated that she, as well as the three other original residents of the Lone Star Cowboy League Boys Ranch, had to be present on March 20. If not, the property left to the ranch would be sold to a strip mall, which would send half the ranch’s current residents elsewhere. Well, she told herself as she led Dinah and Debbie to the bathroom to wash up for lunch, if I’m going to be stuck between a rock and a hard place, at least the hard place is looking nicer every minute.
Chapter Three (#udda3a390-468b-5857-9bb8-da36a273e3de)
“I hate him, you know.”
Gabe looked at Avery later that evening as she stood on the porch watching the stars come out. Jethro had taken the girls inside to read them one of his cowboy stories—Jethro had written down stories for as long as Gabe could remember, and was taking full advantage of his tiny new audience. The quiet of the falling dusk was as thick as a blanket after the commotion of moving-in day. Gabe felt like he could exhale for the first time since that wild meeting on Roz’s porch.
“Who?” Gabe replied. He had a notion who she meant, since she’d just refused a tour of the ranch—her grandfather’s home—but felt he ought to ask anyway.
“Grandpa Cyrus. Well, Cyrus Culpepper to all of you. Even before I knew who he was, I hated him.”
Between the imposter Avery and the real Avery, Gabe was having trouble keeping his Cyrus stories straight. “I thought you never knew Cyrus.” Of course, Gabe knew knowing didn’t really come into a situation like this—he, of all people, knew how easy it was to hate someone you’d barely known. In fact, it was almost easier to hate the idea of someone than to hate an actual person. He resented his own grandfather deeply for abandoning him at a young age; it wasn’t hard to believe Avery felt the same.
“Daddy would always say that if things went bad, Grandpa would come and save us. ‘Grandpa will do this’ and ‘Grandpa will do that.’” She turned to look at Gabe, pain filling her eyes. “I know I was only six, but I remember the promises. And I waited. After Daddy died, I waited in one foster home after another. Only Grandpa never came. Never. That man never did a single thing to help me.” Her words were sharp and bitter.
“You’re sure? I mean, he could have been trying.” Gabe remembered harboring the silly hope that somehow his own grandfather had tried valiantly to get in touch with Mom. He made up all kinds of reasons how their many moves had stumped Grandpa Theo’s efforts. After a while, the hard truth of his abandonment won out over the optimism of such stories. Gabe knew what a hollow space that left.
Avery turned to look at him. “That’d make a nice story, wouldn’t it? Only no. The foster service tried multiple times to find him and reach him. They had contact information for him. No one ever answered.” She hugged herself, shoulders bunching up. A sore point to be sure, and who could blame her?
“That must have been hard,” Gabe offered.
She didn’t answer, simply nodded.
“I’m sorry,” he tried again, even though it felt intrusive and inadequate. Gabe was all too familiar with how rejection brewed a slow, sour kind of pain, one that was deep and hard to shake. “I think maybe Cyrus regretted it in the end, if that helps.”
She gave a lifeless laugh. “It doesn’t.”
Gabe walked over beside her, putting one boot up on the lower rung of the porch rail. It made him think of the chorus of “Mr. Boots!” he’d heard all afternoon, and he felt the surprise of a smile curl up the corners of his mouth. “It’s why the boys ranch is so important, you know.”
“The bumper crop of lousy parents in the world?”
It was becoming clear that Avery Culpepper rarely minced words. In that way, she was a lot like her grandfather—not that he’d be foolish enough to point that out at the moment. “Sure, some parents are lousy,” Gabe replied. “Some are just gone. And some just plain don’t have it in them. More helpless than mean.”
“No one has the right to abandon a child. I’d bleed to the last drop before I’d walk away from my girls.” She didn’t say “like their father did,” but Gabe felt it hang in the air just the same.
“That’s the way it should be. Only it doesn’t always happen that way, does it? The kids at the ranch did nothing wrong—well, some of them have acted out in bad ways, but you know what I mean. They didn’t set their lives up badly, but things haven’t worked out for them just the same. And that’s not fair.”
“I suppose not. I never felt much of life was fair, to tell you the truth.”
“It isn’t. That’s what keeps me working for the boys ranch. Every boy we house and counsel is one less man who grows up hauling a ball of hate around.” Even as he spoke the words, Gabe wondered if he really believed them. After all, he’d been a resident at the ranch some twenty-odd years ago, and the ball of hate was still following him around like a lead shadow.
Avery leaned up against the thick porch column, her arms still wrapped around her chest. “I didn’t ask to be the only thing saving the Culpepper land from becoming a strip mall. I can’t say for certain that I can stay all the way until the twentieth.”
“I understand you need to do what’s best for you and your girls. But that doesn’t change how much we need your cooperation. Think about it this way—if you’d had a girls ranch to go to instead of that long string of foster homes, would things have turned out differently for you?”
She didn’t reply, which told Gabe he’d perhaps made his point, so he went on. “The boys ranch is a good thing. It’s worth expanding.” Gabe planted his hands on top of the porch rail and looked out in the direction where the ranch lay beyond a line of trees. If he could just get her there, even once, it would help to convince her.
“And while I wish old Cyrus would have been nice enough to help that without all these hijinks, I’ve got to take his help the way it came.”
Avery’s dark laugh returned. “‘Hijinks.’ That’s one way to put it.” She ran one hand through the neat fringe of brown hair that framed her round face. “You know, those messages and emails from Darcy Hill just about knocked me over. I didn’t know what to think. It’s a crazy scheme, even you have to admit that. I only decided to come on the hopes I’d get some answers. Or maybe I came half out of curiosity. Or amusement.” She paused for a long moment, then added, “I didn’t count on it hurting so much, you know?”
Gabe shifted his gaze to her, startled by the admission. “How so?”
“To walk around here and see this picture postcard of a little town. To know I could have been here rather than those dumps of foster homes if only he’d...” Her words fell off and she turned away. “Like I said, I know it’s not very Christian of me, but I hate him.”
Up until this moment, Gabe hadn’t been able to fathom what would allow Avery to walk away from a possible inheritance. Here he’d thought it was just the frustration of living under Roz Sackett’s glare, that getting her here would solve everything and be worth the chaos he’d just launched upon his household.
That wasn’t the half of it. What was eating Avery Culpepper was so much more than just squirrelly twins. Cyrus Culpepper cast a long, cold shadow here in Haven, and he couldn’t blame her for not wanting to spend any time in it. Neither her nor her girls. It was, as Pastor Walsh would put it, “a God-sized problem” of history and pain.
History and pain. The world was flooded with it. He’d lived it, she’d lived it. The boys ranch fought against it, one young life at a time. How do I solve this, Lord? How can I override twenty years of a dead man’s neglect? I’ve got to find a way. Gabe pleaded to the heaven he’d once imagined hid behind the veil of stars. Somehow he’d have to convince this woman to set aside the mountain of pride and pain she clearly carried while trying to make his own grandfather appear out of thin air.
A God-sized problem indeed.
* * *
Avery groped her way toward the kitchen coffeemaker Wednesday morning, every bone aching from lack of sleep. How had the girls managed to be so sleepless and fidgety well into the wee hours after such an eventful day?
“Oh, dear,” said Marlene as she stood slicing bread at the counter. “You don’t look like you’ve slept a wink.”
“I think it was three...four, maybe, by the time the both of them finally nodded off for good.” Avery didn’t even have the energy to stifle her yawn. “I thought they’d be exhausted. I sure am.”
Marlene looked crestfallen. “They didn’t like their beds?”
“Oh, they love them. I think the changes of location keep knocking them for a bit of a loop. By one a.m. I had both of them crawling in bed with me, all kicking and sprawling and fidgety.” She spooned sugar into the strong-smelling brew. “It was like sleeping with a pair of mules on espresso.”
That made Marlene laugh. “I was sure Jethro and I had worn them out. We tried.”
The older couple really had gone out of their way to play with Dinah and Debbie, especially after supper, when Avery felt drained from the stresses of the day. “At least they’re still out cold, the little darlings. My bed is up against the wall, so when I smelled coffee, I propped up a few pillows on the open edge and slipped out. I’m hoping that will buy me at least five minutes to grab a cup.”
“Oh, honey, the way you look I ought to send you out to the porch swing with a thermos and a blanket. Young ones take so much out of you, don’t they?”
Avery sipped the coffee, letting the bracing hot brew pull her toward clarity. The coffee at the boardinghouse was passable, but this coffee was marvelous. And not all the way down a flight of stairs, where she didn’t feel right leaving the girls. She wrapped her hands around the stoneware mug and breathed a sigh of gratitude. A cup of morning coffee in quiet felt like the grandest of luxuries. “I wouldn’t trade them for the world,” Avery answered the housekeeper, “even when they stomp on my last nerve.”
“And we all know little ones can surely do that.” Marlene put a compassionate hand on Avery’s shoulder. “I’m glad you’re here. Truly.”
“I hope Gabe can say the same.” Avery ran her hands through what must be a bird’s nest of bed hair. “Where is he?”
“Off into Waco on business bright and early this morning. That man has risen before the sun every day I’ve known him. If you like the coffee, you can thank him—he makes it before the rest of us even open our eyes.”
Her mind concocted a vision of Gabe vaulting into his truck and peeling down the gravel road, eager to escape the girlish invasion. It would have been smarter to refuse his offer. He must be regretting it after yesterday’s chaos, but he’d been a gentleman and hidden any sign of it. Either that or the boys ranch must be truly desperate to win her compliance.
The discomfort must have shown on her face, for Marlene squeezed her shoulder. “Oh, I know Gabriel can look like a stiff old bull sometimes, but he’s got a heart of gold down under it all. It’ll work out just fine, I promise you. Just takes a little adjusting.”
Avery leaned up against the counter. “What I don’t get is, why did he make the offer in the first place?”
“Well, you know the obvious reason.”
Avery put her hand to her forehead. “My grandfather and his kooky demands.”
Marlene sighed. “That old coot was a puzzle if ever there was one. Kept to himself mostly, and grumbled when he did speak up. You could have knocked me over with a feather when Gabriel told me about his bequest.” She straightened up suddenly. “Listen to me talking ill of the deceased. Forgive me.”
Avery glanced up from her coffee. “That’s just it, Marlene. He wasn’t my grandfather. I mean he was, but I never really knew him. I was surprised when Darcy found me and sent those messages. I ignored them at first, thinking they were some kind of internet hoax. Then I got to thinking...” She let her words trail off. “I don’t know what I got to thinking.” Avery knew she was too tired to get into this now, but the words seemed to tumble out of her without permission.
Marlene’s hand covered Avery’s own. “This has to be hard, all the demands and the messy history. And that other Avery! You two are night and day—and I can’t tell you how glad I am it’s you who’s the real granddaughter.”
Avery had heard a few harrowing tales of the woman who preceded her into Haven claiming to be Cyrus Culpepper’s flesh and blood. The kind folks called her things like “a piece of work” and “up to no good.” Others had far harsher terms for the woman. High heels, long nails, fancy cars? Avery thought she surely must look dumpy and unsuccessful when compared to that imposter! It just made everything in this crazy mess that much more complicated.
“I know Gabriel was downright relieved to know that other woman wasn’t going to stay in Haven.”
Avery didn’t know how to answer. She wasn’t going to stay in Haven, either.
Marlene clucked her tongue. “I wouldn’t want that woman in this house, and Gabriel would have never made the offer, that’s for sure.”
Which brought the conversation around to Avery’s original question. “Why did he offer to put us up? I don’t get the sense he’s fond of children.”
Marlene let out a soft laugh. “Oh, he’s not. Your girls stump him but good. Kind of entertaining, actually. His face when he saw those pink sheets? Priceless.”
It would be amusing—if it wasn’t so disconcerting—to see commanding Gabe Everett overrun by little people in pigtails. “All the more reason not to offer. I’m sure we could have found someplace else to go—if we chose to stay,” Avery felt compelled to add. “Waited it out until there were rooms at the Blue Bonnet. Or convinced Mrs. Sackett to keep us on.”
“If you couldn’t contain the girls at the Haven Boardinghouse, they’d have been impossible at Carol’s fancy Blue Bonnet place. And as for Roz Sackett? No one convinces that woman of anything but her own importance. Frankly, I’m amazed she put up with your sweet girls as long as she did.” Marlene sipped her own coffee. “No, what got you here was Gabriel’s determination to do whatever it took to save the boys ranch. Oh, I know he talks a good game, all serious and determined and the like, but if there’s one thing that man can’t resist, it’s a good cause that needs saving.”
Avery had no intention to be thought of as a cause that needed saving. She’d make it with the girls on her own without Danny. She’d head back to Tennessee when—or before—this was all over and give the girls a good life and fine futures.
“Comes from the way he was brought up, I expect,” Marlene continued. “He and his mom went through some hard times. Makes him eager to give back now that he has so much.” Marlene swung her hands around the large kitchen. “And so much space! This big old house practically echoes emptiness some nights. I’m glad for you and the girls. He will be, too, although don’t hold your breath to hear him admit it. The girls will settle in, though, honey, you just watch. Why, in no time I expect—”
Her words were cut off by a loud crash, a tiny wail and the unmistakable sound of little feet running down the hallway floor. Avery practically tossed her coffee on the counter and ducked down the hallway to see Dinah tumbling at her with wide, frightened eyes. “Mama!”
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
Dinah just buried her face in Avery’s shoulder, clinging tight. “Mama. Mama. My pink’s all gone. All the pink is gone.”
It took a minute for Avery’s undercaffeinated brain to process what Dinah was saying. “Your pink’s not gone, sweetheart.”
Dinah pulled away and rubbed her eyes while she looked at Avery. “I woke up and it was all gone.” Her pout was as sweet as it was serious. Avery stood up, took Dinah’s hand and began walking back toward their bedrooms. “It’s still there. You and Debbie just crawled in bed with me last night. Look.” She reached the girls’ adjoining room and pushed the door open.
“My pink!” squealed Dinah, instantly joyful. She grabbed at the candy-colored sheets and turned to look at her mama. “I thought I dreamed it.”
“Well, isn’t she the sweetest thing ever,” Marlene said from behind her. “Do you like cinnamon toast, Miss Dinah?”
“Cinnamon toast?” Dinah’s eyes grew wide.
“I make the best cinnamon toast in the county. Want to try some for breakfast?”
Dinah nodded. “Ebbie, too?” When Dinah was sad or tired, she often dropped the D in her sister’s name. Avery, who’d never had brothers or sisters, adored how her daughters always thought kindly of each other. Except when one had a toy the other one wanted, in which case kindness went out the window in a heartbeat.
Marlene smiled. “Why, of course Debbie gets some, too.” She hunched down to Dinah’s level. “Let’s go roust her up, shall we?” She slanted her glance up toward Avery with a knowing grin. “That way your mama can have a long, hot shower while we eat our breakfast.”
That, and the hot coffee, had Avery ready to nominate Marlene Frank for Woman of the Year. She’d have to find some friends like Marlene back in Tennessee. There had to be someone in Danny’s hometown who didn’t think she’d driven him off, who would believe that it was he who abandoned them. The only home the girls had ever known was back there; she owed it to them to build her business up enough to make it work with Danny’s alimony.
She was a fighter, always had been. Maybe she’d consider staying just long enough to see if Gabe was right and Cyrus really did leave her something worthwhile.
Chapter Four (#udda3a390-468b-5857-9bb8-da36a273e3de)
Gabe knocked on the weather-beaten door of Harley Jones’s small cottage on the west side of his ranch Friday morning. It was early, but Harley was an early riser like himself. The old man would be glad for the pot of hearty food, and Gabe liked to check in frequently on the widower’s deteriorating health. “Harley?”
The sound of shuffling came from the other side of the door. “Hold your horses, I’m a’comin’.”
The door creaked open, and Gabe made a mental note to bring oil on his next visit. Harley was trying to hold the place together on his own, but he needed help.
“Gabe.” Harley pulled open the door, then hobbled on his cane back inside to the cabin’s meager kitchen. “The league meeting’s not today, is it?”
“Not today, Harley. I just thought you might help me finish off some of Marlene’s good stew. She always makes enough to feed an army, and now with our—” Gabe groped for some way to describe Avery and her daughters’ descent upon his quiet household “—houseguests, she’s making even more.”
He opened Harley’s fridge, scanning the near-empty appliance as he settled the casserole dish Marlene had sent. Harley wasn’t eating nearly as well as he should. Gabe made a note to visit again soon with some groceries. The pretense of escaping the noisy state of the ranch house would work well for everyone.
Not that he needed any incentive to visit Harley. Even as a young man on his stepfather’s ranch—back when things were still tight, before Gabe stepped in as owner and made Five Rocks the prosperous ranch it was today—Gabe loved to spend time with Harley at this cabin. Leon, the last of Gabe’s two stepfathers, had been a hard man who’d grown harder when Gabe’s mother died.
Gabe warmed at the welcome sound of Harley putting on coffee—the old-fashioned way, in a blue enamel pot on a stove burner, never one of those “newfangled electric gizmos.” Most of the happy memories Gabe had of his time on this ranch were his afternoons with Harley. Five Rocks wouldn’t be Five Rocks without Harley Jones puttering around, even if he’d stopped doing any real work on the ranch years ago.
“Houseguests?” Harley had reason to look surprised. There hadn’t been a houseguest at Five Rocks for years. “Who you got staying at the ranch?”
Gabe mused at his own reluctance to own up to what he’d done. “Tiny pink things.” He’d found markers on his study desk this morning. Actually, he’d found marker drawings on his study desk blotter, too. A great big pink blob he suspected was supposed to be a heart. Or an elephant. Or a flower—it was tough to tell.
Harley turned toward him, cupping a hand to one ear. “Come again? You got piglets up at the house?”
Now Gabe laughed outright. “Not piglets. Little girls. Two little four-year-old girls and their mother. They’re staying with us since Roz Sackett wasn’t much for the noise and they need to stay in Haven.”
“You took in little girls?” Harley shook his head. “That’s a first. No wonder you’re knocking on my door so early.” Harley got two cups down from his cupboard. “Ain’t nowhere for them to stay in town? Really?”
“The Blue Bonnet’s full up with some women’s thing and we need Avery Culpepper and her girls to be present at the anniversary celebration.”
“Culpepper? More kin of Cyrus’s, you mean?”
Gabe remembered that Harley’s health had forced him to miss the last several Lone Star Cowboy League meetings—the old man knew nothing of the soap opera that had played out in the last few months. “His real long lost granddaughter, to be exact.”
“I thought you said she showed up last month.”
“Yes and no.” Gabe reached for a simple way to recount the crazy turn of events. “Turns out that Avery Culpepper wasn’t the real Avery Culpepper, but a gold digger out to grab Cyrus’s estate.”
“No kidding? Sounds just like ol’ Cyrus to be stirring up trouble even from his grave.” He pointed a bony finger at Gabe. “So you got the real Avery—and her daughters, no less—living with you down at the big house?” Harley began to laugh but it dissolved into a hacking cough that had the old man reaching for his handkerchief and sitting for a spell. “How’s that working out?” he snickered in between wheezes.
Gabe felt himself smile. “I’m here before you put the coffee on. What do you think?”
Harley shook his head and dabbed his eyes. “You’re a good man, Gabe. A bit crazy from the sound of it, but a good man.” He made to rise as the coffeepot boiled, but Gabe stopped and got up himself so that Harley could sit and recover his breath. “The funeral was months ago. Why’s she here now and not then?” Harley asked.
“Cyrus made his granddaughter’s presence one of the crazy requirements in his will. You remember—we’ve got to have her here to deed his land and house to the boys ranch. We just found her. The real her, I mean.”
“Requirements? There’s more than that one?”
Harley must be the only person in Haven unaware of Cyrus Culpepper’s wild scheme. Gabe must have told him about the Avery bit, but forgot to mention the other requirement of finding the ranch’s original residents. Probably because the hunt for those three old men was making him crazy lately. “Nothing you need to worry about, Harley. We got it covered.”
“Good place, the boys ranch.” The words sputtered out between raspy hacks that left Harley reaching for his coffee. “You know that. Cyrus knew it, too. What a fool notion to play games with a good cause like that.”
“I know. But the boys ranch will lose the best thing to happen to it in years if we don’t play along. So we’re playing along.” Gabe put his hand on Harley’s arm, disturbed to feel it tremble under his palm. “Don’t you worry about it. I’ll take care of it. You know me, I don’t ever give up.”
Harley looked up. “Never did.”
“And I won’t now.” Gabe checked his watch, not wanting to bother the old man any further with the weight of his problems. “I’ve got to run by the sheriff’s office and pick up some supplies at the store before I get back for lunch. I’ll get some oil for that door while I’m out. You take care of yourself and I’ll come out in a day or so to fix those hinges.”
“Sure.” Harley looked lost in thought. The old man really was declining, and way too fast for Gabe’s liking.
“Thanks for the coffee. See you later, Harley. I’ll see myself out.”
“Sure.”
Gabe pulled the squeaking door shut behind him. Harley wasn’t doing well. Another problem to add to the growing mountain of challenges around him these days.
* * *
Avery was sitting on the porch emailing furniture websites to a client—she’d found quite a few ways to keep business going remotely once she put her mind to it—when Gabe pulled up. He hauled a pair of large boxes out of the back of his truck. “What’s that?”
“Those,” Gabe said with a sheepish smile on his face, “are two boxes of sanity.”
Avery laughed as she closed her laptop. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d gotten thirty uninterrupted minutes online in the daylight hours—extra adults were indeed a blessing and the sense of accomplishment had lifted her spirits considerably. “Sanity?” She put her hands up to her cheeks in mock surprise. “If only I’d known it came in boxes.” Truly, not much in Haven had met the criteria for sanity since her arrival.
Gabe, who laughed, must have felt the same way, for he replied, “Well, if it came in spray bottles, I can think of a few people I’d douse in a heartbeat these days.”
Avery walked up to the boxes to see a combination of wood planks, plastic pieces and lengths of rope. Sanity, evidently, came with the label Some Assembly Required. It struck her as a fitting metaphor. “Seriously, what are these?”
Gabe sat back on one hip. “Well, if all goes as planned, these will be swings tomorrow. Some boys from the ranch are coming over to help me put them together so Dinah and Debbie have some swings to play on while they’re here.”
Gabe was building swings? Was this some sort of incentive to keep them beyond a short stay? Gratitude and suspicion tumbled together in Avery’s stomach—she didn’t like being indebted to anyone, much less someone like Gabe Everett. And now she’d meet the boys from the ranch. She’d met supporters and volunteers from the ranch—Haven was full of them, as if the whole town had taken up the boys ranch cause. But until now, she’d deftly avoided spending any time with the actual residents. Or on the grounds. She didn’t want to know the people whose lives would be directly affected if she didn’t stay.
“You don’t need to put up swings for us,” she blurted out a bit more sharply than she ought to have.
“As a matter of fact, I do. I found markers in my study, and a pink blob colored on my desk blotter. Marlene suggested that if I wanted to avoid my house being overrun with tiny pinkness, we needed some outside playthings.” He pushed the boxes up against the trunk of an expansive tree and started walking toward the house. “I’ve discovered I have a low tolerance for tiny pinkness.”
His voice held the not-quite-disguised hint of irritation, making Avery think the “box of sanity” metaphor wasn’t all fiction. Which, of course, only made everything worse.
As if to prove Gabe’s point, Debbie and Dinah came barreling through the doors with Marlene behind them. “Mr. Boots!” they shouted, entirely too excited to see their host.
“We’re getting octopus for lunch,” Debbie proclaimed with a ridiculous air of authority.
Both Gabe and Avery looked up at Marlene for an explanation. Preschoolers didn’t eat octopus. She certainly didn’t, either.
Evidently Gabe did. “You’re feeding the girls calamari?” Avery was glad to hear the same shock in his voice that currently iced her stomach.
That made Marlene laugh. “Of course not. I’d never think of such a thing.”
“Hot dogs,” Dinah said, looking as if she couldn’t fathom why the grown-ups weren’t catching on. A “box of sanity” was starting to look like a very good thing indeed.
Marlene planted her hands on her hips. “Land sakes, child, didn’t your mama ever make you hot-dog octopuses growing up?”
The prickly ball of “I didn’t have that kind of childhood” that usually stayed sleeping deep under Avery’s ribs woke itself up. Foster homes weren’t full of warm fuzzy childhood memories. The urge to mutter “I didn’t have a mama like that—I didn’t have a mama at all” crawled to the surface with startling strength. Avery took a breath, swallowed hard and answered with a simple “No.”
“Me, neither.” Gabe didn’t sound eager for the new experience, either, despite the girls’ delighted faces.
“Well, then, lunch ought to be a barrel of fun.” Marlene clapped her hands together and headed back into the house for whatever preparations hot-dog octopuses required. Avery couldn’t imagine what those might be.
“Watcha got?” Dinah said to Gabe, her eyes on the big boxes under the tree.
“A surprise for you and your sister,” Gabe said. He started up the ranch porch stairs, clearly thinking that would settle the matter until after lunch, but he had no idea how wrong he was. At the mention of the word surprise, both girls launched on him with pokes and grabs and questions. Debbie grabbed his hand and practically dragged him over to the boxes.
At the mention of the word swings, the girls were all over him with squeals and hugs and even one squishy kiss on his elbow. It would have been totally charming if Gabe hadn’t been turning shades of red and looking as if he’d contracted the adult version of “cooties.”
Trying not to laugh at Gabriel Everett draped in tiny pinkness, Avery said, “What do you say, girls?”
A chorus of thank-yous erupted, complete with one girl clutching each of Gabe’s pant legs so tightly he couldn’t even walk. He stood there, enduring the outburst, with a face that was mostly long-suffering but not without a tiny sliver of amusement. “I hope it’s nice to be appreciated,” she offered.
He opened his mouth to say something, then simply shut it again, adjusting his hat, which had come askew in the assault of happiness.
“How about we go help Mrs. Frank with lunch and let Mr. Everett get some peace and quiet to settle in before we eat? I want to see these octopuses before I let you eat them.”
Dinah giggled. “They’re really hot dogs,” she whispered.
“I sure hope so,” Gabe said as he tenderly, but firmly, peeled each girl from his legs.
“Swings, Mama,” Debbie said with wide eyes as she gleefully peered into the box.
“I like swings,” Dinah agreed.
The happiness on the two girls’ faces caused a giant lump to form in Avery’s throat. Danny had always said he would put up swings but never did. Now, someone she barely knew was erecting swings just for Debbie and Dinah. Yes, it might be to gain her cooperation, but the weight of the gesture still touched her. I’ll buy the swings from him when we leave, she promised herself. I’ll pay someone to put them up in our backyard. Little girls ought to have swings.
Chapter Five (#udda3a390-468b-5857-9bb8-da36a273e3de)
Saturday morning, Avery stared at the group of boys who had gathered on Gabe’s front lawn to help put up the swings.
It was hard enough to see all those people gathered to do something just for her girls, but the boys themselves tugged at her heart in exactly the way she feared. It bothered her how she could see right into their hearts. That “I’m unwanted” look that lurked behind the eyes of every child in foster care, even on their happiest of days. Could other people see it? Or just those who, like her, had lived it?
“Morning, ma’am,” they said in coached tones, as if boys ranch foreman Flint Rawlings had rehearsed them to greet her with good manners.
“Good morning, boys. These are my daughters, Debbie and Dinah.” The girls waved, and the boys waved back, sort of. With a collection of boys between twelve and seventeen—near as she could guess—just a shuffle and a grunt was almost too much to hope for.
“Are you building our swings?” Dinah said, squinting up at one tall, lanky teen.
“They are,” Flint said, placing a large tool kit down with a thud beside the boxes Gabe had purchased yesterday. “We figured it was the least we could do seeing as to how you’ve agreed to stay until the celebration.”
She hadn’t actually agreed. She’d only agreed not to leave yet. No one seemed to recognize the distinction. The assumption—and now the swings—made her feel cornered, but she could never quite voice her growing concern. Maybe you could try just being grateful, she told herself as she forced a smile in the direction of the makeshift construction crew. Maybe it won’t be so bad to stay and find out what Grandpa Cyrus is up to.
“I’ll be back in two hours to pick ’em up,” Flint said as he peered at his watch. “That’ll be enough time?”
“I expect so,” Gabe replied as he pulled the assembly instructions from the larger of the two boxes. “Five sets of hands ought to be able to get it done in half the time.”
Avery settled down on the porch with the girls to watch the spectacle of the slowly rising swing set. She had two sets of paint colors and four other website addresses to send to another client to view products, as well as two estimates to send to potential customers, but it felt wrong not to at least watch since she couldn’t hope to help.
Not that the girls didn’t want to try. Avery was grateful for the porch rail to keep them corralled away from the sawing of beams and hammering of nails.
One of the older boys stopped and stared at her as he came back from using the ranch house washroom. “So you’re her? The r-real her?”
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/allie-pleiter/the-rancher-s-texas-twins/) на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.