He never stayed put…

…until she gave him a reason to

Rebel cowboy Hadley Smith had never been one to stick around. Then he suddenly became a single father—to twins. Hadley doesn’t need Jenna Moran looking over his shoulder, but he grudgingly starts to fall for her compassion and strength. When faced with an impossible choice, can Hadley prove to Jenna he’s willing to put down roots?

LEIGH RIKER, like so many dedicated readers, grew up with her nose in a book, and weekly trips to the local library for a new stack of stories were a favorite thing to do. This award-winning USA TODAY bestselling author still can’t imagine a better way to spend her time than to curl up with a good romance novel—unless it is to write one! She is a member of the Authors Guild, Novelists, Inc. and Romance Writers of America. When not at the computer, she’s out on the patio tending flowers, watching hummingbirds, spending time with family and friends, or, perhaps, traveling (for research purposes, of course). She loves to hear from readers. You can find Leigh on her website, leighriker.com, on Facebook at leighrikerauthor and on Twitter, @lbrwriter.

Also By Leigh Riker

Kansas Cowboys

The Reluctant Rancher

Last Chance Cowboy

Cowboy on Call

Her Cowboy Sheriff

The Rancher’s Second Chance

A Heartwarming Thanksgiving

“Her Thanksgiving Soldier”

Lost and Found Family

Man of the Family

If I Loved You

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

Twins Under the Tree

Leigh Riker

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-09897-7

TWINS UNDER THE TREE

© 2019 Leigh Riker

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

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“Maybe I should let it go at that. This, too.”

He leaned away, his eyes somber on hers. He tilted her chin up with one finger. “Because all I have to offer you is this.”

With tears trailing down her cheeks, he lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her. His lips felt firm yet soft, and she wanted to tell him he was wrong. He could care about someone other than his twins and his brother. He could care about her. She sensed it in his kiss.

But was he telling her goodbye? Was that the best thing for Jenna? She’d always known this time would come, that she shouldn’t trust him.

For another brief moment it didn’t seem to matter. She cared about him, and even with the words between them that should have made her leave now, as he would leave Clara’s ranch, she stayed in Hadley’s arms…

Dear Reader,

I’m so excited about this latest book in my Kansas Cowboys miniseries! This is Hadley Smith’s story (he was the foreman in The Rancher’s Second Chance), and this bad boy seriously needed reforming. That’s now Jenna Moran’s job, which she’s not quite prepared to take on—along with Hadley’s twins.

Twins have always fascinated me. When I was a teenager, my best friend and I used to babysit her cousin’s twins. Although as toddlers they were a bit older than my fictional babies, they were equally adorable. Add their five-year-old sister, who was part of our babysitting assignment, too, and we really had our hands full. But the fun more than made up for the trouble!

It’s the same way for Hadley in this book—even when he never expected to become a father and doesn’t think he’d be very good at it. We all learn the hard way. At first, he doesn’t welcome Jenna’s involvement, and she’s definitely not eager to risk her own heart again. But I hope you enjoy watching these two struggle as they develop a love, and a family, that neither of them dared to dream of.

As always, happy reading!

Leigh

For my family

Because that’s what matters most

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

Introduction

Dear Reader

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Extract

About the Publisher

CHAPTER ONE

November Near Barren, Kansas

“WOULD YOU LIKE to hold your babies?”

The nurse’s soft voice reached Hadley as if it had come down a long tunnel, the words echoing inside him. He stared through the big window of the nursery in Farrier General Hospital, where the two little infants wrapped in pink and blue blankets, looking for all the world to him like a pair of burritos, wriggled in their plastic isolette. One tiny hand waved in the air as if to say hello. Another set of china-blue eyes gazed straight at him. They were less than an hour old—and they had no mother.

Hadley couldn’t seem to grasp the notion. Only this morning Amy had pressed his hand to her swollen abdomen. “I think it’s today,” she’d said with an angelic smile, not afraid at all of the painful process to come. She should have been.

Before she’d even turned thirty, Amy was no more. “Complications during delivery,” the doctor had tried to explain, but nothing registered with Hadley. The words banged around in his skull like so much mumbo jumbo, and even Sawyer McCord’s comforting hand on his shoulder couldn’t make it real.

Hadley had stumbled from the waiting room down the brightly lit hallway in a daze, and he was still in it. Underneath the fog that had taken over his brain, though, something else kept demanding his attention, tapping at his memory and telling him to pay notice. Hadley just couldn’t remember what that was.

The nurse repeated her question, then said, “We have a small lounge you can use.” She gently took his arm and led him a short distance away to the open door of a room. “I’ll bring them to you.”

“No,” he began, heart in his throat. Even after the long months of waiting, he wasn’t ready; he’d told Amy often enough that he would never be ready, which had only led to yet another of their usual impasses.

But the nurse had already disappeared through the door across the way where Hadley was able to pick out the low murmur of voices among the other nurses. He saw one of them swipe at her eyes.

This was not the happy occasion it should have been—most of all, for Amy—but Hadley didn’t quite know how to grieve. They’d separated earlier in the year, but during one last night together they’d created two new lives. The news that she was pregnant had cut short their divorce proceedings.

He’d promised to stay with her until the babies were born, then they’d decide about the future.

The situation now seemed bizarre, and everything in Hadley’s life had been temporary. His whole approach to things was what he called the finger-in-the-dike method, plugging up one hole as it sprang a leak, then the next. He didn’t stay long anywhere he happened to land. He’d never had a home, a real family. What was he going to do now with the twins?

In the lounge, he sank onto the faux-leather couch, trembling inside. Trying to steady himself, Hadley looked down at his blue chambray shirt, faded jeans and scuffed boots. Even in their better moments, he was never the guy Amy had hoped he could become.

When the nurse stepped into the room again, he startled. “Baby Girl,” she announced, carrying two bundles, one on each arm, “and Baby Boy. Have you chosen names for them, Mr. Smith?”

“No,” he said, pulse stuttering in alarm. He’d left those choices, and most others, to Amy. He should have paid more attention.

He considered making another protest—what did he know about babies?—but the nurse transferred one twin, then the other, into his hastily outstretched arms. He could hardly have refused to take them; they would have ended up on the floor. Since the cover and the first mini cap were blue, he must be holding the boy. Next, in pink…the girl. “God, they’re small,” he muttered.

“Yes, but not preemies. They weighed in almost the same, remember, just over five pounds each. And healthy. Their Apgar scores were off the chart.” She smiled, looking misty-eyed. “Go ahead, you can touch them. They won’t break.”

Hadley wasn’t sure of that. He tried to repress the image, but he couldn’t help but note that the babies were no bigger than two sacks of potatoes, together maybe a quarter the weight of a good saddle.

He’d seen birth before…at least on the ranch. Give him a laboring cow to manage, let a newborn calf slide into his hands, and he knew exactly what to do. Its mama soon took over, and Hadley’s job was done. He’d once reminded Amy’s doctor of that, and Amy had chided him for comparing her to cattle. But he had no idea what to do with these two little babies.

He decided not to share this sum total of his experience with the nurse, who kept giving him weird looks anyway.

Saying, “I’ll leave you with them,” she vanished into the hall.

A fresh spurt of panic shot through him. What was he supposed to do? Even with his friends’ kids, he’d only watched, never taking part in the childcare.

“Wait,” he called after the nurse, but she didn’t hear him. She’d promised to come back soon, but how long would that be? Minutes? An hour? He sat rigid on the sofa, his head throbbing. Already his right arm ached from the slight, warm weight resting against it, and something niggled at the edges of his mind again, then flitted off. In his numbed state, what was he missing? Then the boy snuffled, and Hadley’s pulse lurched. Could he breathe all bound up like that?

With one finger Hadley nudged the blanket aside and saw a little face staring up at him, blue eyes wide and intent, the most focused look he’d ever seen. “Hey, pal,” Hadley murmured. He blinked but his focus had somehow quit for the second time that day; the first had been when he learned Amy hadn’t survived. The tiny girl’s cover slipped, and there she was, too.

Like her brother, the baby had Amy’s reddish-gold hair, and Hadley swore he could see Amy’s face. Her nose, her lips, her chin. Well, maybe his ears, but that was all he could see of himself in the little girl. Ah, Amy. She would never experience this awesome sight. He noisily cleared his throat. “Look at you, sweetie pie.”

She reached out her hand again, as she’d done earlier through the nursery window. A random motion or was she seeking him? When Hadley dared to touch her, she wound her impossibly small fingers around his and held on much tighter than he would expect from such a little mite, and his heart clenched. Her skin felt creamy and smooth. She smelled like…innocence. Her nails were perfect, translucent. An all-around miracle, as birth always was.

When Sawyer McCord suddenly appeared in the doorway in his white coat, Hadley couldn’t speak.

Sawyer’s dark blue gaze softened. “Nothing like it, is there?”

“Nothing,” Hadley managed to say. He didn’t suppose they meant the same thing.

Odd as it seemed, though, theirs was a shared experience. Sawyer and his wife, Olivia, had become the parents of a son only last spring. Hadley looked from one twin to the other, uncertain which seemed more vulnerable, sweeter.

Gazing at him, Sawyer had folded his arms as if he expected Hadley to try to shove the newborn twins at him, then run, the big tough cowboy who only wanted the open range and a horse of his own. He’d done bad stuff in his life, inherited bad genes, but… He gazed down at the squirming babies in his arms, and his whole being turned to mush. He hadn’t been a good husband, at least not the one Amy had wished for. He sure hadn’t wanted to have kids who might turn out like him. The one family member who’d relied on him years ago, Hadley had let down—to put it mildly.

If he wanted to live by the cowboy’s code of honor, which Hadley did, he needed to accept the consequences of his own actions now. Never mind his rocky, on-again, mostly off-again relationship with Amy. That was, sadly, over.

In a few short moments, he’d morphed from a possibly divorced man into a widower, then a father. And finally he knew what to do. This would be different from his marriage. These were Amy’s babies, always would be, but they were also his. What other choice was there? “Guess I’m a daddy now,” he told Sawyer.

Because no way would he let anyone else have them. Once before, he’d given up someone he should have cared for, and it wouldn’t happen again. Looked like he wasn’t going anywhere. For now.

That was when he glanced up and saw the woman standing frozen in the doorway. And at last Hadley remembered the other problem that had been circling, half-formed yet unreachable, through his head. Jenna Moran would have been his easy way out.

Instead, he had a fight on his hands.

“I GOT HERE as soon as I could,” Jenna said. “I can’t believe this has happened. How terrible.”

She’d been crying ever since her friend Olivia, who’d heard the news from her husband, Sawyer, called. During the drive from her apartment building to the hospital, Jenna had sobbed at the wheel. Poor Amy. The friendship they’d nurtured as neighbors over the past months of her pregnancy had just ended abruptly, and Jenna would never see Amy again. Which seemed impossible.

Sawyer touched her shoulder. “It’s a sad day, Jenna. I’ll leave you two to talk.” He said a few low words to Hadley Smith, who forced a brief smile. Then Sawyer swept from the room in a blur of dark hair and broad shoulders that, unlike Hadley, she imagined would willingly carry the weight of the world. She was surprised Hadley was still here.

The consensus in town before Amy’s loss was that Hadley would flee as soon as the twins arrived. Now he was an unlikely single dad. But from what Jenna knew, largely from Amy, she couldn’t imagine this rough cowboy sticking around long enough to change diapers.

The cold look in Hadley’s eyes, a penetrating steel blue, didn’t change her mind about him, not that she was normally given to judging other people. But even physically—with his powerful, athletic build—Hadley seemed too tall, too big and, most of all, too remote to be a daddy. Those traits reminded Jenna of her own father, who had either neglected her or unleashed his anger on her. According to Amy, Hadley had a temper, too. She refused to meet his stare.

She knew what her friends in their Girls’ Night Out group called him. The Bad Boy of Barren. There were others in town who were attracted to his rugged good looks and that brown, nearly black hair, but Jenna couldn’t see past the picture Amy had painted of Hadley.

“Well,” he said, “I know why you’re here. And you’re wasting your time.” His mouth had tightened. “My kids don’t need a stand-in mother.”

“You mean a standby guardian,” Jenna corrected him. She’d never heard the term until a few months ago. “Amy asked me if I would be the twins’ guardian, and I said yes.” Because Jenna, who was unfailingly loyal, supported her friends. “But I never imagined anything terrible would actually happen to her.”

“I didn’t expect Amy to die, either.”

Jenna blinked. “I wish with all my heart she hadn’t. But you must have known about the court hearing to appoint me guardian.” The judge would have made it official for Jenna to take over custodial duties for the twins in case something happened to Amy, and Hadley also left them and disappeared.

Heaven knew, Amy had wanted Hadley to love her as she loved him, a man who’d never wanted a family and claimed he couldn’t love anyone. She’d never stopped trying to change him, but she’d also never trusted that he wouldn’t abandon her, or in this case, their babies.

“That hearing,” Jenna said, “was scheduled for next week.”

“It won’t take place now. Which means you’re free and clear.” He gazed at the babies he held. “Our marriage was always shaky. By the time these little ones were born, I might have been somewhere else.” He paused. “That’s all changed now, though. To set your mind at ease, I mean to stay.”

This wasn’t at all what Jenna had expected. She wouldn’t have to go through with the guardianship, which would have been difficult for her at best, and instead she could continue putting herself together again after her divorce. Nothing would ever again derail her the way her broken marriage had. No one, she told herself, including Hadley Smith.

“Amy ever mention what names she picked out?” he suddenly asked.

A couple of weeks ago, one night while Hadley was out, Amy had talked about her choices, and Jenna did recall several of them. “I remember Luke,” she said, “and Grace. Didn’t you know?”

“I’m not a very good listener,” he admitted.

Jenna took a few more steps into the room. “I’m sure she left her baby name book on the shelf in her living room. There should be a list tucked inside with the names she liked most starred.”

“Grace,” he said, not looking at Jenna. “Luke. If you say that’s what she wanted, I don’t see why not. Lucas Smith is a good name for a guy, don’t you think?”

“Yes,” she murmured, bending down and noting the babies’ fine features. They didn’t appear crumpled and wizened like many newborns’ faces, probably because they’d been cesarean deliveries. “And Grace sounds soft but strong,” she added.

Maybe the only thing they could agree on. Hadley raised his head to study her, and she forced herself to hold his gaze.

Jenna hesitated. She should turn away and go. Honoring her promise to Amy—not a legal issue now, but for Jenna, a moral one—would be equally difficult. Just as it was hard every time she walked into the Baby Things store on Main Street. The yearning she felt when she looked at the frilly miniature dresses and little shirts with adorable sports logos and cute short pants. They reminded her of her lifelong desire to have a family. Another of her shattered dreams.

She resisted the urge to stroke one finger along the babies’ cheeks, to feel their soft skin, smooth and warm. In this town if someone she knew wasn’t getting married, they were having a baby—like her own sister not long ago. It didn’t seem fair that Hadley, who’d never wanted kids, now had two of them, these perfect little humans who had just been born. Jenna chided herself for the unkind thought.

She stared at the twins and felt her heart break twice over. Jenna hadn’t forgotten her own childhood with a father who didn’t care. She knew firsthand how devastating that could be. Her father had fractured their family, and Jenna would not let that happen to anyone else. Her legal responsibility for these newborn babies was, as Hadley had said, void now. Yet with Amy gone, the children had no protection. Jenna had to set aside her own sadness for the sake of the twins.

She mentally squared her shoulders. “Amy begged me to make sure the twins have a safe, stable environment—”

“Something you think I can’t provide?”

“I didn’t say that. But I made a promise to Amy, so this is what I’m going to do now. I’ll visit the babies every week to see how they’re doing. And if I think you’re not taking good care of them, I will hold you accountable. I’ll do everything in my power to bring the matter up with the court.”

“So you could still become their standby guardian?” Hadley said. “I would never have signed off on that. I sure won’t now. Besides, you’d have to get in line behind Amy’s parents. I don’t envy you that.”

Jenna swallowed. “Do they know about her passing?”

He nodded. “We’ve never been on the best terms, but yeah, I called them. They’re on their way now.”

“And I will do whatever needs to be done.” Brave words, when instead she felt torn, even frightened by her own decision. Still. It was necessary.

Regardless of whether Hadley wanted her to be involved, now the twins were all that counted.

Luke and Grace, she thought, aching to reach out and take them from Hadley, to hold them and feel their sweet weight in her embrace. No matter how painful this might prove for Jenna, whose arms would always be empty, she kept her promises.

CHAPTER TWO

Four months later

“EVERYTHING ALL RIGHT TODAY?” After checking to make sure Jenna Moran’s car wasn’t parked out front, Hadley banged through the door at the McMann ranch. Jenna’s weekly visits to the twins irritated him. He didn’t like being under a microscope. Who was she to judge him? He was glad she wasn’t there tonight because he needed to speak to Clara, the widowed owner of the ranch, about their living situation.

Clara rushed into the hall carrying both twins. “Couldn’t be better,” she said, but her eyes didn’t meet his, and Hadley reminded himself, as he did most nights, that she wasn’t a young woman anymore. With graying dark hair and light brown eyes, Clara was still slim, even thin, and she must be worn out after all day tending to his babies. Yet she’d taken over their care without a qualm. In fact, it had been Clara’s suggestion for them to move in with her rather than return to the small apartment he’d shared with Amy. The only time Clara seemed flustered was when Jenna Moran came to the ranch, and only because Clara picked up on the tension between Jenna and Hadley.

“Got home soon as I could,” he said. “Had a cow run through some wire and need stitches. Sorry I’m late.”

“You aren’t, dear. We’ve been fine.” She glanced down at Gracie. “But she was a tad cranky this afternoon.”

Teething already? Hadley started to slip a finger in Gracie’s mouth to see if her gums were tender but thought better of it. He’d washed up at the NLS ranch, where he worked, but he doubted his hands were clean enough.

When he’d lived with Amy, Hadley used to take the long way home. Now and then he’d stop at Rowdy’s, the only bar in town, for one beer before he continued on to the apartment. By the time he got there, Amy would have that look in her eyes that seemed to beg him to love her. “It’s not in me,” he’d told her a million times, yet she’d always chosen to believe he could change. Would it have killed him to let her think he really loved her before she died having his babies? They were his daily reminder of the wrong he’d done Amy.

He was also being unfair now to Clara, the kindest person he knew. Hadley owed her, not the other way around. In his teens the McManns had become his last foster parents, and he’d spent several years on their midsize ranch, learning to cowboy from Clara’s husband, Cliff. He’d also learned to be a man—as much as he ever would be, considering his beginnings. By eighteen he’d been on his own, but no other place had ever felt the same, so finally Hadley had come back to Barren. A few years later he’d met Amy, married her, and he was still here, though he got twitchy whenever he stayed anywhere too long.

Hadley’s talk with Clara had to wait until the twins finally fell asleep—at the same time, for once. He and Clara stood by their crib, which the babies shared, just gazing at them. Both twins had their thumbs in their mouths, and their eyes were closed with that expression of utter peace on their faces that always caught at his heart. Hadley laid a hand on each little chest.

“You don’t have to check every night,” Clara said with a knowing smile. “They’re healthy as can be and ready to make more energy for tomorrow.”

She often seemed to sense what he was thinking. Maybe it was neurotic of him to test their breathing, but he couldn’t help himself. After Amy died, and he held them for the first time in that room across from the hospital nursery, he’d become a worrier. He supposed he’d carry that to his own grave.

He and Clara went downstairs where, by habit, they settled at the kitchen table. Darkness had fallen while they bathed the twins, then wrestled them into their sleepers for the night and said their prayers for them.

“Okay,” he said, stirring his coffee, “let’s talk. I’ve made a decision.”

Clara straightened in her chair. “So have I.”

Hadley stiffened. He’d sensed her earlier frown wasn’t about Gracie being fussy. He’d been right. Clara was exhausted. He’d known this moment would come ever since he had moved in and filled her tidy house to the rafters with all the babies’ gear. The twins seemed to outgrow their clothes every week, and he was now a regular customer at Baby Things. Apparently, so was Jenna Moran, who brought shirts and jeans and dresses and toys whenever she came to see them. Which, even once a week, was too often for Hadley. Fortunately, he was usually at work then.

“I should look for another place, Clara,” he began, then held up a hand. “I know, you’ve told me you like having us here, and you’re great with Luke and Gracie, but we’re in your way.”

Clara’s eyes filled. “Move out now? How would you manage, having to work and care for those sweet babies with no one to help?”

Had he been wrong after all? Hadley tried to ignore a sudden mental image of Jenna. Why think of her? They were like oil and water. She had a sense of style that set off her auburn hair and blue eyes, liked antiques and probably other fancy stuff. Hadley preferred working in a barn. He was jeans and old boots. This was her hometown, but Hadley was already planning to move—on his terms, not like when he was a kid. “I can put the twins in day care. I know how tough this has been on you.”

Her chin went up. “No, you do not. When I lost Cliff, I lost myself for a while. Then after you had those beautiful babies, I found out who I was again.”

Hadley twirled his coffee cup. He’d never thought he was doing something for Clara. Quite the reverse.

“I understand about Cliff,” he said. “But before you know it, the twins will be crawling around, then walking and running all over the place.”

She frowned. “You’re saying I’m too old to chase after them.”

“I’m saying you deserve a rest. I can’t ever thank you for everything you’ve already done, but Clara, we’re imposing. I can’t ask more of you.”

“And where will you live?”

A good question. He wasn’t foreman at the Sutherland ranch any longer and didn’t have the house that came with the NLS job. Hadley was now an ordinary cowhand there, hoping he wouldn’t be let go when winter came on again and the ranch hunkered down to wait out the snow. It was early spring now, and his job seemed safe; it was a busy season on any ranch except this one. He glanced out the window at the empty fields the McManns had worked for decades before Cliff died. “I’ll get an apartment in town again,” he said.

“You’ve got this all wrong, Hadley.” Clara set her cup aside. “Does this have to do with Jenna Moran?”

“Partly, maybe. Sure.” In his own place, she couldn’t surprise him with a visit. She’d soon get discouraged, then stop coming to check on the twins—and Hadley.

“You’d let that sweet woman chase you off? When you’re far more comfortable here than you would be in a tiny apartment?”

He blinked. He’d heard another note in Clara’s tone. Sorrow? It had never occurred to him that Clara needed them as much as they needed her. He was never good with women, Amy being no exception. He could never figure out Jenna Moran, either, who got under his skin every time he saw her.

Clara struggled to continue. “I don’t want you and the twins to leave…” Before she said the rest, Hadley knew he’d lost control of the situation. It wouldn’t be his choice after all. “And I hate to do this, making matters worse, but with Cliff gone,” Clara went on, “and our land sitting fallow, it has become too difficult—even with the money you contribute every month—for me to stay here. Nothing will happen right away, but—” She took a deep breath. “I’ve decided to sell the ranch, unless…” She paused. “Why don’t you buy it?”

Her question didn’t require an answer. They both knew Hadley had no money.

JENNA RARELY STEPPED into the Baby Things store on Main Street without buying something. And considering the fact that she would never have children of her own, she was running up quite a tab for her new nephew and Hadley Smith’s twins. She seemed fated never to leave the shop without at least one package wrapped in colorful paper printed with elephants or lions, cupcakes or kittens.

From the rear of the store, Sherry, the owner, called out, “You’re my first customer of the day. What brings you in this early?”

Jenna’s gaze cut from the ever-tempting displays of children’s clothes. “I promised my sister I’d pick up her order on my way to work—as if she doesn’t have every possible item a baby might need.”

“The order came in yesterday.” With a laugh, Sherry went back into the storeroom to find the box while Jenna stood stock-still in the center of the shop, determined not to notice the sweet yellow sundress on one table, or the pastel playsuit paired with the tiniest navy blue sneakers on another. When the bell jangled above the door, she turned to see…oh, no. Hadley I-don’t-need-your-involvement Smith.

She’d actually run into him only a few times since that day in the hospital. Once she’d spotted him on the street here in town pushing a double stroller through the winter slush on the sidewalk. The twins had been bundled in adorable matching snowsuits covered with hoods so Jenna couldn’t clearly see their faces. Instead of approaching, she’d hurried into Olivia McCord Antiques, telling herself she was late for work and couldn’t stop even to coo over the babies.

Jenna shot a look at the storeroom, but Sherry didn’t reappear from behind the curtain with its colorful pattern of sailboats and sand pails.

“Sherry here?” he asked.

“In the back. She’ll be out in a minute.” Now would be even better. “I don’t work here,” she added in case he’d thought she did.

“I know. You help at the store down the block.”

“I used to manage it,” she corrected him, surprised to think he’d been keeping tabs on her. Her friend and now former employer Olivia had two shops, one in Barren and the other in Farrier, the next town over in the county.

Jenna had enjoyed the job, but it wasn’t what she wanted long-term. Having just completed her studies to become an interior designer, she’d served her notice to Olivia a couple of weeks ago and was starting her own business—Fantastic Designs—or trying to this first week. She had to support herself now. But she saw no need to share that with Hadley.

“Don’t have much use for old furniture,” he said, running a hand over the nape of his neck, “or new, for that matter.”

Jenna didn’t respond. She still missed her upscale house in Shawnee Mission, an affluent suburb of Kansas City, where she’d lived with her ex-husband. Her apartment now in Barren was crammed with treasures she’d brought with her, although she and David still had a few things left to decide on.

“You waiting for something?” Hadley said.

She shrugged. “A quilt with sewn-on activities and noisemakers. For my sister’s baby.” Which was none of his business.

Hadley scowled. “I wasn’t home the other day, but Clara says you came by.”

Which sounded to Jenna like a challenge. When she did drive out to the McMann ranch to see the twins, she tried to schedule her visits so that Hadley would be at work. Sometimes she even passed by the NLS to make sure his truck was there. Silly, she supposed, but he made her uncomfortable. And she guessed, from the way he kept shifting from one foot to the other, she made him uneasy, too.

“I hope you don’t have a problem with that,” she said, although she knew he did.

His gaze lifted. “Amy may not have trusted me to see to the twins’ welfare, but she was wrong.”

“I’m not concerned about your relationship with Amy.” Although she’d certainly heard an earful from her friend, Jenna knew better than to interfere. She’d done so once with her sister Shadow, and she wouldn’t make that mistake again. “My only interest now is in the twins.”

Hadley stared at her. “Clara tells me when you’ve been to the house. I’ve noticed the presents you brought. Gracie looks cute in those pink pajamas with the sheep on them.” His tone was grudging. “And Luke looks ready to play football in the blue ones with the helmets all over.”

“I couldn’t resist,” she admitted.

Sherry chose that moment to sweep through the curtain with the box Shadow had ordered, and Jenna could have kissed her for her perfect timing.

On impulse Jenna turned, plucked the yellow sundress and the multihued pastel playsuit she’d admired from the nearest table, then added the navy sneakers. Her cheeks flaming, she paid for them and made small talk with Sherry while she wrapped the gifts. The whole time Jenna could sense Hadley, still in the center of the room, staring at her back. Then, feeling too onstage with him watching, she carried her parcels toward the door.

Jenna had her hand on the latch when Hadley reached around her. The bell jingled as he opened the door for her. “Want me to take the presents home?”

How did he know they were for Luke and Grace? Oh, yes, why else would she buy double gifts in the same size? For a boy and girl? “Thank you, but I’ll take them next time I visit the twins.”

He’d been polite—at least he had manners—but Jenna didn’t welcome his help any more than Hadley welcomed hers. Not that he would consider it help.

ON HIS WAY to the NLS the next morning, bleary-eyed after a sleepless night, Hadley still felt shaken by his encounter with Jenna. And then he was startled by a different kind of encounter. As he drove through town, he braked hard at the only stoplight in Barren, certain that the dark-haired guy walking along the opposite side of the street might be the lone remnant of the broken family he’d been born into. But it couldn’t be his brother, the one Hadley had betrayed. He hadn’t seen him in years. Not that Dallas would want to see Hadley.

When he finally reached the ranch, the foreman was waiting at the barn, his eyes the color of flint.

“You’re late,” Cooper Ransom said.

Hadley recognized the hard tone of voice. He climbed out of his truck. Once he’d have been ready for a fight, but he couldn’t afford to lose his temper. He was a father now, and he and Cooper, who was married to the owner’s granddaughter, had already shared some nasty moments. Still, he had the other man to thank for Hadley moving in with Amy last spring. He would never regret Cooper’s advice to treat her more kindly. He hoped he’d given Amy a few happy moments—in between their quarrels—when she’d had so few of them left.

Hadley’s mouth tightened. “My boy’s got his days and nights mixed up,” he told Cooper. “When he finally went to sleep, I crashed myself.” Clara hadn’t wakened him this morning. Either she’d thought he needed the rest, or she wasn’t speaking to him. After their talk the other night, she’d made it plain he was welcome in her home until the ranch sold, but how could she show the place with toys and stacks of diapers scattered everywhere? “I got here as soon as I could.”

“I appreciate that. I know it’s hard to keep a schedule with two babies at once. But you left early yesterday. You were late once last week. Ranch work can’t wait for you to show up.”

He’d expected a stern lecture, but… “I’m being fired?” Again? He’d lost his job as foreman to Cooper last year.

The ranch owner, Ned, had always been good to Hadley and had rehired him, but as a ranch hand. Now he earned half of what he used to make as foreman.

He thought again about Clara’s question. He’d give everything he had to run his own ranch, to be in full control of his life, but even buying a horse wasn’t possible right now. Amy’s outstanding hospital charges were eating him up, and the next payment was due. While he was glad her doctors had done everything humanly possible to save her, the ongoing expense was drowning Hadley. He needed this job.

“Listen,” he said before Cooper could deliver the final blow. “I’m a hard worker. With calves being born every day here, you need me now,” Hadley insisted.

Cooper said, “Sorry, I can’t keep you. But let me make some calls. Maybe one of the other outfits can take you on and give you more flexible hours.”

“Don’t bother. I can find my own job,” he said, his jaw tense. Hadley hated the notion of people doing him a favor, because sooner or later they’d want to collect on the debt.

Cooper shook his head, the sun glinting on his blond hair. “If that’s the way you want it.”

The other man started toward the house, muttering something about writing Hadley a check, which was nothing new, either. Minutes from now, with the money in his wallet, Hadley would feel tempted to leave rubber on the pavement as he turned onto the road, just as he had last year. But this time he forced himself to cool down. He didn’t need a ticket for reckless driving from Finn Donovan, the sheriff. He had the babies to think of, not only himself. Responsibilities. It was just too bad the twins hadn’t picked a father who, at this moment, could meet those responsibilities. He could save face, though.

“No, this isn’t the way I want it,” he called after Cooper, having made his decision. “Let’s pretend you didn’t let me go for staying up late with my baby. You don’t have to fire me,” he said, calling on the defiance that had helped him to survive any number of foster homes as a kid. “I quit.”

Now, because of his stubborn pride, all he had to do was figure out how to feed the twins.

CHAPTER THREE

AT LUNCHTIME THE NEXT DAY Jenna crossed the street, picked up some take-out food from the Bon Appetit, then went to see her sister. Shadow ran her own company called the Mother Comfort Home Health Care Agency, which was located in the same building as Jenna’s new business. They often ate together when time permitted—which was more of an issue for Shadow, who was always on the run these days juggling her baby plus the agency. Meanwhile Fantastic Designs had yet to get off the ground. Jenna’s rented space on the second floor above her sister’s office seemed perfect, but she had no appointments for the afternoon, or any other time, really.

Shadow was at her desk, the phone tucked under one ear. “I appreciate your concern, Bertie,” she said with an eye roll for Jenna. “I’m sure we can work something out. Let me get started. I’ll call you back later. Yes, of course, you’ll have final say over anyone we place in your home.”

Jenna sank onto a chair in front of Shadow’s cluttered desk. She laid out their lunch. “What’s up?”

“Jack’s uncle,” she said with a pointed look. “He’s not happy.”

“Poor old guy.”

But this wasn’t only about Bertie, who was in frail health. His nephew, Jack Hancock, the owner and head chef at the Bon Appetit, had been seeing Jenna and Shadow’s widowed mother, and two days ago they’d gotten engaged. Shadow thought that was great; Jenna was still trying to wrap her mind around the fact that their mother planned to tie the knot again. Hadn’t Wanda learned anything during her miserable marriage to their dad?

Jenna swallowed a first delicious bite of her croque madame. When she’d returned to Barren, newly divorced, she’d had little appetite and lost weight, but Jack’s restaurant deserved its rave reviews. “Jack’s been taking care of Bertie with Mama’s help. If they get married, what will happen to Bertie?”

“They’re going to buy a house, which would leave Bertie to fend for himself. Jack and Mama want their own space, but Bertie didn’t love my idea to look for another caregiver in his own home.”

“I think Mom and Jack are being too hasty,” Jenna said. She hadn’t reacted well when their mother showed her the ring Jack had given her. “Shadow, she’s been on her own for a while now, and you can see how much happier she is. All those years of putting up with Daddy, him losing one job, then finding another, only to get fired or quit that, too…” He’d always seemed to be between jobs when he wasn’t sitting in his old recliner all day, channel surfing the TV or bullying one of the kids, especially Jenna. “Mama may be leaping at this chance with Jack when she should take time to really figure out what she wants.”

Shadow started on her own lunch with a sigh of satisfaction. “I’m sure she hasn’t forgotten how hard it was to put food on the table or buy all of us shoes—”

“Used sneakers from Goodwill or the church rummage sale,” Jenna remembered. “Mama had a bad self-image then, and no wonder with the way Daddy treated her. I’d hate to see her give up her new independence only to get into another bad situation.”

“She won’t. I’ll admit Jack’s quirky,” Shadow agreed, running a hand through her dark hair, “but so what if he pretends he’s French when he’s not? I find that endearing, especially in a town like Barren where cowboys rule. His restaurant’s already a big hit, he’s been good to Mama, and he’s great with Bertie, who’s not the easiest person to get along with. As I just learned all over again.” Shadow’s nearly black eyes held the hint of a smile. “I’ll find Bertie a caregiver he feels comfortable with. Would you deprive Mama of her chance to be truly happy for once in her life?”

“Of course not. But what’s wrong with a longer engagement that would give them both time to see if this is really the right thing to do?”

“Jack loves her. She loves him. What’s to figure out?”

Jenna finished her sandwich, savoring the last bite of ham-and-cheese goodness, her gaze focused on a framed photograph of Shadow, her husband, Grey, and their ten-year-old daughter, Ava, on the desk. “This, from a woman who adores her husband, dotes on her new baby and has everything else she wanted in life? Including Wilson Cattle and everyone’s favorite little cowgirl?” And Ava now had a baby brother, if not the sister she’d asked for. Being around their little family—or Hadley’s twins—for Jenna was both a joy she couldn’t resist and a sorrow she could never escape. She should worry instead about finding some clients.

Shadow saw her looking at the picture. “We have problems like anyone else, Jen.” She tried a smile. “For instance, Grey’s parents’ house has taken forever to build. Everett’s a great father-in-law, and I do love Liza, who’s the best stepmother-in-law in the world, but really, they need their own quarters and so do we. Just like Mama and Jack. There’s always something. Life’s never perfect.”

“I guess I still have to work through my own issues,” Jenna admitted.

“Sure, and I get that—” Shadow had never liked David, Jenna’s ex “—but Mama’s wedding to Jack shouldn’t be one of them. Your marriage didn’t pan out. The divorce was hard. We all think David treated you terribly, but look at you now,” she said. “You’re better off, and you have a new business, which I know is going to be successful—”

“—if things ever pick up,” Jenna said. She couldn’t deny that, like their mother, she’d sacrificed a big part of herself to help further David’s career and run the rest of his life so he wouldn’t have to. “I thought getting certified as a designer would be hard. Compared to launching my business, it was a piece of cake—chocolate,” she added, tapping one finger against the square white box Jack had packed for them with dessert.

“Even so, you’re doing fine.”

“Are you in Pollyanna mode today?” Jenna asked.

“No, but who needed that big house in Kansas City?” Shadow didn’t point out that there’d been no babies there to fill the space. “Your apartment here is gorgeous and homey. All you need now is confidence.” Her eyes brightened. “Why don’t you call Liza? Now that their house is almost done, she’ll want a designer. Maybe you can get the job.”

“You’re changing the subject. We were talking about Mama and Jack.”

“I think the two are connected. Them and your divorce.”

She glanced out the window. “I just don’t want her to get hurt.”

Shadow arched one eyebrow. “See what I mean?”

Jenna’s hands twisted in her lap. “No. I don’t. I care whether our mother makes another mistake, but that doesn’t mean it’s about me, too.”

Shadow gazed at her. “I disagree.” And Jenna could tell that what she’d dreaded was coming. “Mama’s engagement, even your divorce, aren’t the only issues. You’re going to have to deal with the rest eventually too, Jenna.”

She didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “I can’t believe you’d bring up my…infertility. Yes, I wanted kids—maybe too much—but that dream is over.” She folded her sandwich wrapper, then dropped it in the trash can beside Shadow’s desk. The closest she would ever come to a baby of her own was Shadow’s three-month-old son, Zach.

Jenna opened the cake box and gave her sister a piece. Shadow sampled the slice set before her. “What’s the best thing now for you? Maybe you should work on that.” She hesitated. “And while we’re in risky territory here, what’s going on with Hadley Smith’s twins?”

“I see them as much as I can—for Amy’s sake.”

“Jenna, if that’s painful, you don’t have to spend time with them. I think Amy would understand. Unless visiting the McMann ranch isn’t just about the babies.”

Jenna said, “I enjoy the twins, but I don’t want to know Hadley any better than I already do.”

Shadow blinked. “Now, that’s interesting.”

Yes, it was. Why had she assumed Shadow meant him? She couldn’t deny he had a certain appeal with that dark hair and those steel-blue eyes. But he didn’t want her around, and she didn’t like to get near him, either. She went to the ranch for the twins, not Hadley. “I’m keeping tabs on him. That’s all.”

“Maybe you won’t have to much longer. I hear Clara’s going to sell her ranch.”

That news surprised Jenna. “Then the problem will solve itself. Hadley won’t stay in town.”

Why hadn’t she heard about Clara putting the ranch on the market? Jenna rose from her chair. Unfortunately, that also meant she’d no longer see the twins, hard as that might be, because Hadley would be out of sight before the sold sign was posted on the ranch. As expected. Jenna didn’t want to examine her mixed emotions about that too closely, so she changed the subject. “I forgot to bring you the quilt you bought for Zach. I’ll drop it off tomorrow. Would that make you happy?”

“Yes,” Shadow said, “but I’d feel even more pleased if you’d help me with the plans for Mom’s wedding.”

Jenna didn’t respond. That would be as hard for her as saying goodbye to the twins.

AFTER HE LEFT the NLS, Hadley had grabbed a quick lunch at the Sundown Café—he wasn’t a big fan of the fancy French food served at the Bon Appetit—then ate his burger on the way to the Circle H.

Begging didn’t come easily to him, but if that’s what it took… Only Logan Hunter, Sawyer’s brother and part owner of the ranch, quickly dashed his hopes. At the moment they were fully staffed.

After their brief conversation, Hadley left his cell number, then climbed back in his truck, disappointed. Still, he had to envy Logan, who didn’t have to worry about his family ever being kicked out of their house.

As he drove back to Clara’s, he tried to appreciate what he had for now.

His mood softened, as usual, the minute he stepped into the kitchen at the house. When he lifted his girl from her baby seat, Gracie reached out her arms to him and giggled. Both twins had recently learned to laugh, which lit him up inside like a candle in a pumpkin. Trying to forget the past few hours, he scooped up Luke, too, but on his way in he’d ignored the stack of mail on the hall table—including a notice from the hospital, probably. “This wasn’t exactly my day,” he told Clara. “I’m not going to complain except to say that I almost got fired.”

The last word made his stomach burn. For most of his life Hadley had been a loner, certainly since he was ten years old, the last time he’d seen his brother. And here he was with two tiny beings who depended on him for everything. Had he been out of his mind to quit his job at the NLS? Any severance pay was off the table now, because in the end, leaving had been his choice. Hadley had always believed he knew when it was time to go, but now he had second thoughts. He guessed he was getting his comeuppance. In the end his temper had gotten the best of him.

“Oh, Hadley. Fired. Why?”

“Being late for work, and instead I quit. But I’ll find something else.” He explained his brief visit with Logan, who’d been sympathetic, though in the end, he couldn’t offer a job.

Maybe he should go back to the NLS tomorrow where he’d done some begging before the twins were born, see if Cooper might settle up after all.

Clara didn’t look at him, but she kissed his cheek on her way to turn off the stove where the twins’ bottles were heating in a pan of water.

When she faced him, he could see his story had affected her, too. And he remembered she was also facing a challenging and painful situation.

“You’re sorry to be leaving here, aren’t you?” he asked Clara, taking one of the bottles from her. Her skin felt cool under his warmer hand.

“Yes,” she said. “I don’t know how I’m ever going to sort through all the things Cliff and I accumulated in forty years. Well, me at least.” Her husband had been gone almost a decade, years after Hadley left, and Hadley had never had a chance to say goodbye to the man who’d had such an influence on him. “Cliff and I never had children of our own, but my memories of the girls and boys we fostered—” Clara glanced at Hadley “—are in every nook and cranny of this house. When you left us, and you were the last, Cliff told me I’d made a shrine of your room.”

A wave of loss ran through Hadley. That room for now was the twins’ nursery. The McMann ranch was the closest he’d ever come to a home and a family in many years, until the twins were born. Clara sat at the table, and Hadley stood beside her.

He hadn’t found another place in town that might suit him and the babies, and he recalled again Clara’s entreaty to buy the ranch.

“I know what you asked me, Clara,” he said, passing Luke to her. The baby latched onto the bottle, noisily sucking. Hadley sat down, too, and teased the other nipple into Gracie’s mouth. Clara’s challenge had been between them ever since. And here he was, out of a job… “If I could, I’d buy this ranch. Then you could stay right where you are. But I can’t,” he finished, hating to let her down all over again as he had his brother Dallas in a different way.

“Stay, you mean?” she asked.

“No, I mean I don’t have the money to buy you out.”

“If you could, though, would you stay? With the babies?” Her gaze fixed on Luke nestled against her chest. “And before you say another word, I’m more than fine with that.”

Hadley didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t afford the ranch, but maybe there was another option… “What if you didn’t have to sell?” he asked Clara. “What if you kept the ranch—”

“It’s not making any money. You’re aware of that.” She glanced out the kitchen window at the dry fields, the empty barn. “And I know, even when I’ve practically begged you to stay, that you’re determined to leave again…” She trailed off.

Hadley gazed at the same outside view. “What if I didn’t?”

Her gaze jerked up to meet his. And he swallowed hard. Four months ago he’d come here to her ranch for the twins. He’d been antsy for a change ever since, yet he realized his babies were too young for such a drastic upheaval, even the short move he’d planned from here to town. Just as important, where would Clara go?

“I understand things are tight, but if we could put enough money together, even borrow some to buy a few cattle, start a new herd for you—”

“Oh, Hadley,” she said as she had before, one hand pressed to Luke’s hair, the other to her heart.

“I’m a good foreman. I think I could get this ranch going again.” Of course, if he stayed, he’d continue to have to deal with Jenna Moran nosing around in his business, making her weekly drive-bys. Still… Once Clara’s place was making a profit, and the twins were old enough, Hadley could move on as he’d planned and get away from Jenna for good. Her eagle eye over his care of the twins made him nervous. In the meantime, whatever he had to do, he might be able to make this happen.

“I can’t afford much, either,” Clara said, and for an instant Hadley was mentally packing his bags, yet her tone had sounded hopeful. If he and Clara did this, he wouldn’t need another job as anyone’s cowhand; he’d be his own boss again, his decisions, of course, subject to Clara’s approval.

A streak of excitement zinged along his veins. Hadley almost didn’t recognize the feeling. “We’ll manage. Heck, I’d rather work for you than for anybody else.”

CHAPTER FOUR

THE NEXT MORNING Jenna drove out to the McMann ranch. If that’s painful, you don’t have to spend time with them, Shadow had said, and keeping her commitment to Amy was harder each time she saw the twins. She’d had a near panic attack on the way out here and had to pull over until her pulse settled. The bittersweet sorrow she felt whenever she held Amy’s babies—part grief for her friend who would never see them grow up, part grief for herself that these sweet babies weren’t hers—was something she had to manage. But these visits also filled her heart.

She was surprised to find Hadley at the ranch. On a weekday he should be working at the NLS. Too bad she hadn’t driven by the ranch this time to check if his truck was there.

Jenna took a deep breath. She imagined he wasn’t any happier to see her than she was to see him. Taking the bag from Sherry’s shop off the seat, she got out of her car with a growing sense of dread, then started toward the house. She’d hoped he wouldn’t follow, but Hadley fell into step beside her.

“I can take that,” he said. “Luke and Gracie are napping.”

“I’ll wait for them to wake up. Maybe Clara has time for a cup of coffee. I like to watch her open my gifts for the twins.”

“Maybe on your next visit,” Hadley said. “If you turn around now, head back to town, I’ll tell Clara you dropped off the presents.”

Jenna groaned. First, he’d wanted to bring the package home from the store. Now he hoped to send her on her way without seeing the twins. But she was saved from having to respond. Clara appeared in the doorway with a broad smile and waved at her. “I have pecan coffee cake and a fresh pot. Hadley?” she said. “Will you join us?”

He stopped. “Thanks, but I was about to start cleaning out the barn. After that I’ll mend the corral gate. Should keep me busy most of the day.”

Jenna guessed he was helping Clara get ready to sell the ranch. She climbed the steps and went into the house, leaving him there on the walk. The door shut behind her, and Jenna followed Clara into the kitchen. The smells of brown sugar and butter and rich, dark coffee invited her in, and as Clara poured coffee, then set cream and sugar on the table beside the fragrant cake, Jenna cocked an ear for any sound from upstairs.

She handed Clara the gift bag. “Wait till you see these,” she said, a soft ache starting in her heart. She stirred milk into her coffee while Clara tore open the first package wrapped in pink kitten paper. To Jenna’s own surprise, it didn’t contain the yellow sundress. “No,” she murmured, “that’s for Luke. Sherry must have gotten the outfits mixed up.”

“Or she doesn’t buy into the notion of pink for girls, blue for boys.”

It didn’t matter, of course. Clara oohed and ahhed over Luke’s pastel playsuit and blue sneakers, then studied the label. “Dear me, this will be too small. Luke outgrew the three-month size. Could you exchange it, Jenna, for the next one up? Even nine months might be better. I hate to inconvenience you—”

“I’d be happy to exchange them.” Why hadn’t she thought of a bigger size? But Jenna had little experience with growing babies, and recently she’d bought mostly toys. “Grace’s present, too,” she said. “You don’t even need to open it.”

Clara did anyway. She took great pleasure in examining the yellow sundress that had been wrapped in blue paper, one finger tracing the satin ribbon trim that wound through the bottom hem. “She’ll look adorable in this. Thank you.” Her eyes grew moist. “I’m so pleased Hadley has decided to stay here with them.”

Jenna straightened. “I heard you were going to sell.”

“I was, but Hadley lost his job at the NLS and decided to get this place going again instead of leaving or finding another job. How could I say no? If he succeeds, I’ll be able to keep my home, and the babies will have one, too. Next week he’ll look into buying our first cows.”

The announcement startled Jenna. Was this good or bad for her? On one hand, the twins would still be here, and Jenna could keep checking on them as well as on Hadley. On the other, she would have to put up with him. And vice versa. His attitude wouldn’t make things easy.

Clara studied her over the rim of her coffee cup, raised halfway to her mouth. “I’ve noticed you and Hadley aren’t exactly friends, but that man doesn’t know what he needs.”

“That doesn’t sound like the Hadley Smith Amy described.”

“You believe everything she told you?”

“That sounds naive, doesn’t it?” But Jenna recalled the evenings she’d spent with Amy, hearing the other woman’s complaints about Hadley, relating their quarrels—which might or might not have happened as she said. Amy’s tears had been real, though, and not simply due to pregnancy hormones. Jenna had witnessed for herself how quickly Hadley’s temper flared. Because of her father, she knew all about how harmful that could be to a young person, and she’d definitely keep her eye on Hadley.

Clara cocked her head to listen for a moment. “Ah, Luke’s up. Grace will be, too. That little imp never lets his sister sleep once he’s awake.”

Wondering about her blind acceptance of Amy’s stories, Jenna sat motionless in her chair at the table after Clara had left the room. The older woman returned a few minutes later carrying one twin on each bony hip.

Jenna couldn’t seem to move. This wasn’t the first time she’d become paralyzed at the sight of them, not the first time she’d wanted to pull back inside herself for protection, but Clara was having none of that.

“Here we are!” she said brightly. “Which little angel do you want first?”

Jenna thought of leaving before sorrow threatened to swamp her again. Then she remembered Hadley on the front walk obviously wanting her to go. And oh, how sweet they were! Grace with her fine features and rose-gold hair curling at her nape, Luke who was bigger with a sturdy frame and similar coloring, although his hair seemed to be getting darker. Being of different sexes, they were fraternal, not identical, twins, and so lovable just for being here that her heart turned over.

Her hands twitched with the urge to hold them. When Clara plunked Grace on her lap, Jenna’s mouth went dry.

Grace wriggled in her embrace, then patted one tiny hand to Jenna’s cheek, the baby’s face bright as if she had no doubt she was welcome in Jenna’s arms, and Jenna’s throat closed. “She’s smiling.”

“They’ve been smiling since they were born, if you ask me. People say that’s only gas, but I don’t believe it. They laugh now, too. And you should see how Grace fixates on Hadley as if he’s the one person in the world she can rely on.”

“Amy wasn’t as sure about that,” Jenna murmured, yet she couldn’t deny that since Amy’s death he’d stepped up to the plate. Hadley seemed to work hard and provide for them as best he could—in fact, she heard him hammering something down at the barn—yet the news that he intended to rebuild Clara’s ranch stunned her. If he really meant to stay longer, Jenna’s visits would be enough to fulfill her promise to Amy, yet he’d probably continue to object to Jenna’s very presence.

“I know he’s never been one to settle down,” Clara went on, “but he has more reason now to sink a few roots.” She shifted Luke, who was trying to grab the pan of coffee cake off the table. “Time will tell,” she said with a meaningful look at Jenna.

HADLEY COULDN’T PUT it off any longer. Ever since that tragic day at the hospital he had been meaning to look through Amy’s belongings and tonight seemed good enough. He admitted he’d been avoiding the task. If he and the babies were going to stay on the ranch for a while, he shouldn’t keep stalling. He also wanted to take a look at the standby guardianship application Amy had filed. Even though the court hearing had never taken place, the situation with Jenna was still an issue. He didn’t buy that her only reason for spending time with Luke and Gracie was some promise she’d made to Amy. He’d caught the melting look on her face more than once when she was with them. Now that their mother was gone, could she have some legal claim to his babies? And had she been biding her time, hoping to catch him in some misdeed with the twins?

“Clara, have you seen the bins with Amy’s stuff in them?” he asked after dinner.

“I believe they’re in the attic,” she said.

Being careful not to wake the twins, Hadley went upstairs, then sat cross-legged on the wooden floor of the walk-up area under the roof beams. He forced himself to open the first bin and rummage through Amy’s things. When he’d moved from their apartment, he hadn’t taken time to sort out what to toss and what to keep for Luke and Gracie someday. Disoriented by Amy’s shocking death, by his new obligations, he’d thrown everything into bins for later. From then on, he’d had his hands full just trying to be a good dad when good wasn’t in his nature.

The first item he came across was the bifold program from Amy’s funeral at the local church. It was the same place where, at her insistence, they’d been married, and where she’d sometimes attended services on Sundays. Without him. Hadley had resisted most of her attempts to change him from a bad boy into a solid citizen, something he now regretted, just as he regretted not trying harder to love her. She’d deserved better from him.

With a hard lump in his throat, Hadley skimmed the program, then the small picture of her at the top. “Way too soon,” he murmured, tracing a finger over her image as if he could touch her again. “Never mind all those fights we had. As you told me, there were good times, too, in the beginning. Not sure what would have happened to us if you were still here,” he said, “but we’ll never know, will we?”

Now he was on his own, plowing through her belongings in Clara’s attic.

“Hadley?” Her voice came from the bottom of the stairs.

“I’m here still. Come up if you want.”

To be truthful, he didn’t like doing this alone. Every piece of paper he touched, every sympathy card and article of clothing he’d saved, spoke to him. Amy’s favorite green sweater, which he couldn’t bring himself to touch, the one she’d knitted herself with the too-long sleeves that always made him smile for her effort. The baby books she’d bought because “I don’t know any more about this than you do.” The last birthday gift he’d given her, a certificate for a day at the spa in Farrier that she’d never gotten to use. Like the court order she’d never completed, which he wouldn’t have signed off on. As Jenna well knew.

Clara laid a hand on his shoulder. “If this is too difficult for you, maybe I could find what you’re looking for.”

“No,” he said, “I did my grieving.” Hadley had cried himself to sleep that first horrid night, something he’d never admit to anyone. Until then he hadn’t shed a tear since the first time his parents had dumped him and Dallas on child services and, later, when he’d watched his brother be taken away because of him. He’d cried about Amy, whose short life had been cut off so abruptly before she even saw their babies, cried for the mess he’d made of their relationship and for the twins he’d been left to care for—he, who would probably be the worst father any kid ever had, though he hadn’t been able to leave them with anyone else. Including Jenna Moran. “One of the worst parts,” he told Clara, “is Amy never knowing Luke and Gracie. Not watching them grow up, graduate from school, get married…”

“But you will, Hadley. For her. I’m sure wherever she is she appreciates that.”

His voice sounded hoarse. “At least they have the names she chose for them.”

Clara’s hand gently stroked his shoulder, and he guessed she had trouble speaking, too.

“I need to find some papers,” he told her. When Amy had mentioned the application for guardianship, Hadley had paid little attention except to give her a flat no. He wouldn’t agree to that. Now he wished he’d read everything. “I don’t understand all the double-talk legalese about standby guardianship, but I have to work out what all that means.”

Clara hadn’t responded before his fingers closed over the manila file in which he remembered Amy putting some papers. Then she’d shut the file away in a drawer. When Hadley had packed up after she was gone, he hadn’t looked at it. Her death had still been too raw for him to face his own failure in that regard. He peered into the file now. It contained a few documents like their marriage license. “The guardianship stuff isn’t here.”

Clara examined the papers in the file, too, but also came up empty. “Maybe Amy had a safe-deposit box somewhere.”

Was that possible? Then why not store all the important papers there? He supposed there might be layers to Amy that he knew nothing about. As a minor example, Hadley could never reconcile their bank and credit card statements with the purchases she’d made, and whenever he questioned her she’d told him not to worry.

Hadley rose, his knees popping from sitting too long. “I’ll check with Barney Caldwell at the bank tomorrow.”

Hadley needed to find out what he was up against.

WAS IT JENNA’S bad luck, or some kind of weird karma? The very next morning when she walked up to the main entrance of the Barren Cattlemen’s Bank, Hadley reached around her to open the door. Without glancing up, Jenna coolly thanked him. “Have a good day,” she added, then went straight for Barney Caldwell’s office. As vice president, he had a window that looked onto Main Street, and more than once she’d glimpsed him peering out to see what was going on in town and with whom.

Hadley was right behind her—again.

“You seeing Barney, too?” he asked, not taking a chair in the waiting area.

“I’m applying for a loan,” she said, “to invest in Fantastic Designs.” Jenna still had no clients. She needed capital to jump-start her business. And because of that, she would have to deal with Barney. Some women in town called him creepy, and he’d recently sent her several cryptic messages she’d never answered. What was Hadley saying…?

“That’s not a bad idea. Clara and I should try that.”

Which wasn’t why he was here now then. Jenna tamped down her curiosity. Her only interest, she reminded herself, was in the twins. Remembering how she’d held them in her arms yesterday, she felt quivery and soft inside as she had all the way home.

Barney, who’d been at his desk poring over some papers, came to his doorway. “Who’s first?”

“Go ahead,” Hadley said with a motion toward Jenna. “I can wait.”

“No, please. I’ll probably have to fill out a dozen forms.” And she wasn’t eager to be alone with Barney. In school he’d had a crush on her, the memory of which still embarrassed Jenna.

“Well, I shouldn’t be long,” Hadley said. “Just have a question.”

Barney, his short-cut hair the color of hazelnuts, clapped a hand on Hadley’s shoulder, a gesture that seemed to make Hadley tense. “Have a seat. Ask away.” The door shut behind them.

Jenna tried not to observe their interaction, but it wasn’t long before Hadley’s dark brows drew together over his piercing blue eyes. He juggled a brass paperweight from Barney’s desk, then set it down again. They exchanged a few more words. Then Hadley abruptly rose from his slouch in the small barrel-shaped chair and stalked to the door. He jerked it open. “You’d better hear this,” he said to her.

Following him into the office, Jenna took the chair Hadley had vacated. He stood next to her while Barney straightened the papers he’d been reading earlier. He studied her with his too-small eyes. “Hadley has asked me about his wife’s relationship with this bank. It appears he didn’t know she had an account—in addition to their joint checking—in her name alone.”

That wasn’t unusual; many women had their own accounts. So had Jenna during her marriage. “Yes, I remember that.” She glanced at Hadley. “Amy once told me about a bank account, but that’s all she said.”

Barney said, “She opened the account some time ago.” He checked the dates.

“Soon after we got married then,” Hadley said.

“And Amy deposited money each month.”

“Where did she get it? We never had extra.”

“I believe, um, her parents sent the checks.”

“It’s like she was married to them, not me,” Hadley muttered. “Why would she keep that secret? Because she worried that I might leave her high and dry?”

To Jenna, that didn’t seem so unlikely.

Barney fidgeted in his chair. “Maybe her family wanted Amy to know she could use the money if she ever needed to—”

“Because she was married to a guy like me,” Hadley said under his breath.

Jenna looked from him to Barney, whose gaze had fixed on his computer screen as if its contents were written in Sanskrit. “But what does all this have to do with me?”

Barney glanced up. “Not long before she gave birth, Amy amended the account to include a POD—payable on death provision. Which avoids probate. When the primary account holder dies, the money in the account goes straight to the named beneficiary. In this case to you, Jenna.”

How could that be? “But if I’m the beneficiary, why wasn’t I notified after her…death?”

Barney frowned. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for some time,” he said, “but you didn’t respond to any of my messages. Or the letters on official bank stationery.”

“I thought those were merely forms to solicit investment.” She’d thrown the letters away, unopened. The funds from her divorce settlement were earmarked for savings to buy a house, and Jenna didn’t want to risk losing any of that.

“My next attempt was going to be knocking on your door,” Barney said. “Which I intended to do until you came in this morning.”

“Doesn’t sound to me like you tried hard enough.” Hadley glanced at him, taking in his dark suit and conservative tie. Barney might look the part of a vice president, but he wasn’t known for his management skills or much else. He lived with his overbearing mother and was inclined to startle at his own shadow. “What do you do? Shuffle papers all day then go home at four o’clock? You’ve read those—” Hadley pointed at the stack of printouts on the desk “—three times since I walked in. Bet you couldn’t tell me what a single line said.”

“Are you calling me negligent? Pardon me, but I couldn’t force Jenna to answer my messages.”

“Pardon me,” Hadley said, “if I call you a liar.”

Surprised that he’d defended her, Jenna held up a hand. “Please. This isn’t getting us anywhere. If I understand, Amy’s accounts are now mine to control?”

“Yes. And the amount is substantial.” Barney read a figure aloud that made Jenna’s eyes widen. Amy had complained several times about her money woes with Hadley when all along she’d had access to these funds. Amy hadn’t trusted him. As for Jenna, she had to admit she’d been avoiding Barney and couldn’t blame him for this misunderstanding. An oversight on her part.

“But why me and not her parents?” she asked.

“I can’t say. She made that change in the account with my assistant.” Barney cleared his throat. He turned to Jenna and handed her a thin sheaf from the stack. “You’re authorized, at your discretion, to use the account for the sole benefit of Lucas and Grace Smith.”

In other words, Amy had again provided for her children’s welfare in case Hadley disappeared when they were born. As she read, Jenna twisted her fingers together. She shot a look at Hadley. Their quasi-relationship wasn’t friendly, as Clara had noted, not that she wanted it to be, but this new detail would make things worse. Now she wouldn’t simply be paying a few visits to the twins; she’d be managing a rather large pot of money for them, overriding Hadley as their father. At least in his view.

His gaze bored through her, his eyes shards of blue glass.

Jenna stood. “This isn’t my doing, Hadley.”

“Like your agreement with Amy about the standby guardianship?”

“You can’t think I put her up to that,” Jenna said. Barney fidgeted at his desk, his face a dull red. A glance through the glass window into the bank revealed several people, including a teller, staring at them. “We’re making a scene.”

“I don’t care. Obviously, Amy agreed with everybody else in this town that I’m not to be trusted with my own children.”

Hadley turned, yanked open the door, then stalked from the office. “Like it or not, which I’m sure you don’t, Jenna, I’ll have something to say about this money.”

CHAPTER FIVE

WHEN THE SUN went down, Hadley was still fuming. He imagined that the red ball of fire sliding toward the horizon, as if to define the western edge of Clara’s ranch in the blaze of color, might draw him with it. Hadley would slip right over the boundary of her pancake-flat land like a man falling—or jumping—into an active volcano, then vanish from the twins’ lives. That would probably suit Jenna.

The rare spurt of self-pity lasted just long enough to remind him that he didn’t have the luxury of thinking about himself.

Before Barney had revealed the surprise bank account, he’d told Hadley that Amy did not have a safe-deposit box at the bank. So the location of the guardianship papers was still a mystery, and now he had a different problem. The threat Jenna posed as the beneficiary of Amy’s account. He felt hamstrung. He didn’t want anyone else in charge, especially a woman with no blood ties to the twins; he could take care of his own babies.

Hadley turned to the young cowhand he’d hired half an hour ago. “I’ll be at a cattle auction tomorrow. While I’m gone, make sure the south fence is tight—and if there’s a hole, fix it. With luck I’ll bring back some stock.” He planned to use the ranch’s meager amount of cash to buy the cows. After those funds were gone, he’d have to see Barney again about the loan he hadn’t applied for before he stomped out of the bank.

Cory Jennings grinned. Shorter than Hadley by an inch or two, he still stood over six feet. His dancing dark eyes met his. “Said I’ll do a good job for you. That means taking the horse to ride fence.”

A few days ago, Hadley and Clara had pooled enough money to buy the ranch’s one horse, a rangy sorrel from a “dealer” who’d stopped in Barren on his way to Colorado. Hadley doubted the gelding was worth even the three hundred dollars they’d paid. In his view the horse had been on the road to the glue factory. Lucky for the horse, he’d found two people with soft hearts and desperate for any help the sorrel might provide in return for saving his life. “You sure you can ride him?”

Cory pointed at the big belt buckle he wore, a prize he’d won in some rodeo. “I can ride anything.” Retired from competition, Cory was one of many mid-level players in the sport, Hadley supposed, but he didn’t lack confidence. Cory could even be cocky. “Mean broncs, rank bulls… I’m an all-around cowboy.”

Hadley tilted his head toward the nearby stall. “Yeah, well, this one has a tendency to buck so I guess that means you can handle him.” He suppressed a brief flash of concern. Should he trust Cory? How capable was he? He knew very little about him. “Just in case, carry your cell. You get into trouble, call Clara at the house.” Before the upcoming auction, Hadley hadn’t found time to check the fence himself.

Cory’s grin widened. “I’ll not only secure your fence, I’ll whip that nag into shape real quick. I’ve got the touch.”

“But remember, the horse spooks at the slightest cause for alarm. A piece of white paper blowing across the yard. The hoot of a barn owl. A car coming up the drive.” If that was Jenna, he could understand the reaction. The gelding took particular exception to the sound of Clara’s dinner bell, rusty after years of disuse, being rung from the back porch. “Treat Mr. Robert like the gentleman he should be.”

“He’s no gentleman, all right.” Cory ran a hand through his wheat-colored hair. “But then, neither am I.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Hadley muttered. The ex–rodeo “star” had come with only vague references, but he and Clara weren’t in any position to demand them. For now, they needed help—and Cory had been their only candidate. “Just do the job, keep your nose clean, and I’ll pay you.” Somehow.

Still, he had to admit, the guy was an enigma. He’d seemed to fall from the sky exactly when Hadley had needed him, and Hadley couldn’t be choosy. In a way he reminded him of the kids he and his brother had been long ago, being abandoned here and there, which had turned Hadley into a drifter. He wondered if the same had happened to Dallas and where he might be now. On the road somewhere, as Cory had been? How long would he stay? Hadley blocked out the thought. If he was going to get Clara’s ranch going again, he had to make it happen any way he could. For her, the twins and himself.

Cory started down the aisle toward the feed room, which was a mass of cobwebs at the moment, then stopped. When he turned around, his gaze faltered. “I left my gear in my truck. Where am I supposed to sleep?”

Hadley hadn’t considered that. There was no room in Clara’s house. The day after they’d hatched their plan to get the ranch on its feet again, he’d inspected the old foreman’s bungalow. But the floor had nearly buckled under his feet, the boards were so rotten and warped. The front windows were broken, the toilet was missing, and there were mouse droppings everywhere. The bungalow made the foreman’s house at the NLS seem like a palace. “If I were you, I’d lay some fresh straw in the loft tonight. You can eat your meals with me and Mrs. McMann. We’ll figure something better out—but not today.”

“I can sleep anywhere,” Cory said with a shrug. He walked back to Hadley, then stuck out his hand. “Thanks for taking a chance on me.”

As if not many people did. Hadley could understand that. They shook, and Hadley couldn’t help but think of today’s meeting with Barney Caldwell and Jenna at the bank. He sure could have used that account money—at his discretion—to put the McMann ranch on solid footing again, but Amy hadn’t given him that power. Hadley had a new idea, though, which made him smile. He would definitely speak to Jenna again.

But all he said to Cory was, “Don’t let me down.”

AFTER A LONG DAY of beating the bushes for clients, Jenna let herself into the apartment she’d rented on the far edge of Barren. The sun had gone down half an hour ago, and although she’d enjoyed the mesmerizing sight of color splashed across the sky on the drive home, it hadn’t raised her spirits.

She tried not to feel discouraged. Her ad in the local paper didn’t seem to be working. Neither had the flyers she’d placed on the front counters at the library, the Bon Appetit or the Sundown Café. Oh, and every store in town. Sherry had taken some for the Baby Things shop, assuring Jenna that many of her clients were young marrieds and first-time homeowners who might welcome her advice on decor. None of her canvassing had worked so far, nor had her new website. Not a single person had liked the website or her Facebook page, and as of tonight Jenna had zero genuine followers. She wouldn’t count her sister, her friends or her mom, who supported her but didn’t need her services.

She certainly couldn’t count Hadley. Their meeting in Barney’s office preyed on her mind and soured her mood. Why blame her for Amy’s decision about the bank account? She only wished she’d been more proactive instead of avoiding Barney for so long. They could have met without Hadley there and avoided the confrontation. Then she’d have been better prepared.

She set down her tote bag containing the leftover flyers just as someone knocked at her door.

“I’ve brought dinner,” her mother said, breezing into the apartment, the aroma of pizza from the box she carried following her inside.

“I’m not hungry, Mama.” Jenna turned on some lights.

“You have to eat. You’re too thin. Do you have anything to drink?”

“Soda. Orange juice. Water,” she said after mentally reviewing the contents of her fridge.

Wanda set the box on the kitchen table, the new diamond ring on her finger flashing as she moved, reminding Jenna of her talk with Shadow about their mother’s engagement to Jack Hancock. Familiar with Jenna’s kitchen, Wanda pulled out two glasses, then plates from the cupboard, and silverware from a drawer.

“Mama, really.”

Her mother took a seat, then waved Jenna toward the opposite chair. Without warning, she said, “I hear there was an incident at the bank.” As if she or Hadley Smith had robbed it. “Is that why you look so down in the mouth? Here.” She pushed a slice of pizza across the table. “As I tell Jack’s uncle Bertie, food cures everything.”

Jenna merely raised an eyebrow. She and Clara should start a cooking school. Jenna wouldn’t talk about the bank, or about Hadley. “Did you cut your hair?”

“I had it done at the salon,” Wanda said, a lifelong do-it-herself-er. This was yet another change in her mother’s life for the better. Wanda patted the sleek new style, her once-dull dark hair now shiny with coppery highlights. “Jack likes it.”

“I do, too,” Jenna said. For a long time she had worried about her mom and the life she’d lived with Jenna’s dad. Even now, she pushed food at Jenna as if to make up for the times when she hadn’t been able to feed her family. But Jack? He’d drifted—like Hadley—in and out of his uncle’s life over the years. “This is a good sign,” she said. “You’re taking care of yourself. I hope you’ll keep that in mind.”

Wanda’s dark gaze sharpened. “Shadow told me you’re not okay with our engagement. I decided to come by, get to the bottom of this.”

Jenna groaned. “My sister doesn’t know how to keep a confidence.”

“No reason to,” Wanda murmured. “We’re family. If you don’t like Jack for some reason—”

“I do like him. I’m not sure he’s good for you, that’s all.” She paused. “What if he doesn’t make a go of the Bon Appetit or gets bored after a year? He does that French thing, pretending he speaks the language, so maybe he’s always thinking about somewhere else. Barren isn’t the most exciting place in the world.”

“If Jack decides it’s not interesting enough for him here, I’ll move with him.”

Assuming Jack would let her or, like David with Jenna, decide his new adventures didn’t include her. “I’m sure the engagement is exciting, Mama, but what comes after that? When you’re really married…”

“We already live together. We know each other.” Wanda finished her pizza. “Jack would never hurt me the way—”

Jenna flinched. “David hurt me? Have you and Shadow talked about that, too? I’m not projecting my failures onto you. I only want to make sure you know what you’re doing and what the risks may be.”

Jenna had barely eaten at all, and when her mother held out another slice to her as if she were a baby bird that needed to be hand-fed, she drew back. Wanda nudged the pizza closer until, finally, Jenna took it. “All right, okay. Just this one.” She took a bite, hardly tasting the melted cheese and oregano-laced tomato sauce.

“Honey, I’m fine. Please don’t worry.” As if to reassure Jenna—or herself?—her mother’s engagement ring sparkled again, creating a rainbow on the far wall. Wanda studied the stone for a moment before a smile bloomed. “I’ve never been happier in my life, and I intend to stay that way. Shadow and I agree about where these concerns are truly coming from. Put that dreadful man behind you, Jenna.” For a second, Jenna thought she was referring to Hadley. “If there was a more self-centered person than David Collins, I’ve never met one.”

Except Daddy, Jenna thought. At least her ex had held a steady job, made decent money, and they’d shared a well-appointed home rather than a falling-down wreck. Finn and his wife, Annabelle, owned the Moran house now, and the renovations they were doing to it and the old farm buildings warmed her heart. Soon, there’d be few reminders of Jenna’s childhood, her father’s neglect or her parents’ dysfunctional marriage. How could Mama want to change her name again? Jenna sure didn’t intend to try another relationship.

So why did an unbidden image of Hadley run through her mind? Certainly, after today’s meeting at the bank, it was even more evident that he was not relationship material. Like her father, he’d never held a job for long, as evidenced by his recently quitting at the NLS to take over Clara’s ranch. How long would he stick with that? Or stay in Barren? Jenna would do better to remember the dark look on his face when he’d learned about Amy’s account, putting yet another barrier between Jenna and Hadley.

CORY TOSSED HIS gear bag onto the fresh pile of straw in the barn loft and held his breath. This might not be the most luxurious of accommodations, but he needed work, and the McMann ranch—if he could term it that, since nothing was mooing in the nearby pasture or growing in the fields—seemed better than most ideas he’d had. Besides, what other option was there?

He rummaged through his bag, yanked out the pillow he traveled with, then the plaid woolen blanket he favored.

From the house the dinner bell clanged, but Cory didn’t answer the summons. He’d eaten a fast-food burger in Farrier before he drove out to meet Hadley Smith, having heard about the job from another rancher. More to the point, he didn’t want Clara McMann in his face. The old woman had already pumped him for information Cory wouldn’t share. He knew how to ride horses and rope cows—had the wins to prove it—but he had no experience with mothers or grandmothers. He patted his gaudy prize buckle, silently insisting he wasn’t missing anything.

He rearranged his bedding, set down the Disney alarm clock he carried with him everywhere, then started to settle down in the straw.

“Mr. Jennings?” The McMann woman’s soft voice called to him from below.

Tempted to ignore her, Cory dragged a hand through his hair. “Yeah?”

“Please join us for dinner. I hope you like enchiladas.”

His stomach growled. “Ate my share of Tex-Mex on the circuit,” he said, but his mouth watered. “No, thanks. I’ll pass.”

She didn’t take the hint. “Let me fix you a sandwich, then, or I have leftover pot roast to reheat.” Another rumble rolled through his gut. Apparently the burger had worked its way through his system and he was hungry after all. Then she threw in the ultimate temptation. “Do you like apple pie? With vanilla ice cream?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Before he thought better of it, he’d climbed down the ladder to the barn floor and was walking with Clara McMann across the yard to the kitchen door. As soon as it opened, the scents of fruit and cinnamon, jalapeños and corn wrapped him in a cocoon of hunger. The warmth in the room felt like a too-cozy blanket.

At the table Hadley Smith was already dripping hot sauce all over an enchilada. He looked up at Cory with a grin that transformed his normally stern face. “I could have told you. Clara doesn’t let anyone go without a good meal.”

“Sit down, Mr. Jennings.” She pointed at a chair and the place already set with sturdy stoneware and silver. She took her seat, unfolded her napkin with a nod at the one he hadn’t touched, then said, “Now. We’ll eat—and get to know you.”

Cory bit back a groan. He should have guessed. The true reason for this invitation was to weasel more details out of him. That wouldn’t happen. In his experience the more lies he spun, the more he had to remember so he didn’t trip himself up later.

Cory took the platter of enchiladas from her, dished up a pair of them and slathered on some salsa verde. He grabbed a square of corn bread, still hot and moist from the oven, then hunched over his plate.

Hadley tapped his shoulder. He held out a beer.

Cory shook his head. “Not a drinker,” he said. At least not here. Alcohol loosened his tongue. “I’d rather have a glass of milk.” He sent Mrs. McMann a smile. “Kills the heat I created on my enchilada.”

Hadley brought the glass to him, then returned to his chair. For a few minutes, silence reigned while everyone ate. Then the woman spoke again.

“Where are you from, Mr. Jennings?”

“Call me Cory, ma’am.” He coated the corn bread with another layer of butter, the real stuff. “Here and there,” he finally said, causing one of Hadley’s eyebrows to rise. “I was born in Texas.”

Cory avoided Hadley’s gaze, and Mrs. McMann’s. Note to self. He’d used the state before, not that hard to remember. It went with his past rodeo career, even with the job he’d be doing here for her and Smith.

“Your father was a rancher?” she pressed him.

“No.” The one-word answer was his friend. He pushed a piece of corn bread into the sauce on his plate. “Don’t rightly recall what he did for a living. He and my mom split before I was born.” True enough, if he stretched things. “I don’t like talking about that.”

With a sympathetic glance, she seemed to take that hint. She passed him the enchiladas, urging him to take another. “You young people don’t eat enough.”

He focused on the empty milk glass. “I’m not a baby, ma’am. Don’t you have a pair of twins to worry about?”

“Yes, but there’s always room for more.” She glanced at the ceiling. “We savor our meals here when we can. Please,” she added, “eat up, Cory. And call me Clara. By the time I’m done with you, you’ll need jeans in a bigger size.”

“She’s not kidding,” Hadley muttered. He shoved away from the table. “Another fine dinner, Clara. Thank you for the trouble.”

“No trouble at all,” she said.

He walked toward the hall. “I’ll check on Luke and Gracie.”

“I’ll keep your pie warm, dear. You, Cory? Ready for ice cream, too?”

Hadley laughed but kept going to the stairs. “Don’t even try to refuse.” Cory cleaned his plate, carried it with the others to the sink, then sank back onto his chair while Clara McMann sliced the best-looking pie he’d ever seen into generous servings. Then she spooned huge dollops of vanilla ice cream onto the dessert dishes. Despite the four enchiladas he’d eaten and three chunks of corn bread, his stomach begged for more. He hadn’t always been able to afford to eat when he was on the road. Maybe this would work out.

Clara set his pie in front of him. “We won’t wait for Hadley. He likes to stand a while and watch his babies sleep. I suspect you haven’t been eating well—or often,” she said.

Cory didn’t attempt to correct her. He took Hadley’s advice. And ate.

This gig—as long as it lasted—might be all right if he stayed as careful as he would on some bucking horse.

He just had to keep his head down and stick to himself.

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