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“I see you, squirrel.” He didn’t look the least bit disturbed. “Now, before you give your teacher a heart attack, how about you two scramble down from there and into the truck bed.”
“Do we have to?” Bonnie asked. “I thought you said it was good for us to climb trees?”
“It is, but that’s at home. My guess is that around here, shimmying up things taller than you breaks more than a few rules.” Wearing faded jeans, weathered boots, a red plaid Western shirt and his trademark hat, the man looked nothing like a father. More like a cowboy straight off the range.
Natalie leaned over and whispered, “He’s so handsome it hurts to look at him.”
“Hush,” Josie snapped. “This is a serious situa—”
Before she could finish, the girls had scurried down the tree and into the truck bed. Legs rubbery with relief, Josie finally dared to breathe.
“See?” Hat in hand, Dallas sauntered over. His walk was slow and sexy. “My girls are expert climbers. I don’t even know why you called.”
Stunned by his cavalier attitude, she wasn’t sure what to say. “Do you realize that if either of your girls had fallen from that height, they could’ve been seriously injured?” Focusing on maintaining a professional demeanor, Josie folded her arms and adopted her best stern-teacher expression.
“Do you realize my angels have been climbing trees practically since they could walk? I’ve taught them to look out for weak branches and to always plan a safe path down.” Checking his truck to find the girls surrounded by their friends, he added, “I’ve done some of my best thinking in an old oak—at least back when I was a teen.”
Shaking her head, she struggled for the right words. “You have to understand that at school, there has to be a certain order to our days. There are procedures and rules to follow—not just for safety, but for learning. By condoning your daughters’ actions, you’ve essentially told every student out here that disobeying my rules and those of the other teachers is not only perfectly okay, but heroic.”
“Aren’t you exaggerating just a tad?” When he held his thumb and forefingers together, he winked. Despite the fact that he was handsome enough to make her swoon, she held her ground. The man was impossible and he brought out the worst in her. She was never this much of a shrew. But she’d also never encountered someone quite so blind. As young as the twins were, now was the time to temper them. Not in their teens when they were already lost.
“No, sir,” she said, standing her ground. “I don’t believe I am.”
“Then where does that leave us?”
Us? She rationally knew he meant their parent/ teacher relationship, but the way he’d slapped his hat back on his head, hooking his thumbs into his back pockets had her distracted. What was wrong with her? Why was it that whenever she came within five feet of him her mind turned to mush and her body fairly hummed? She was finished with men, so why wouldn’t her body obey?
“Um…” Josie cleared her throat. “Perhaps you might want to spend time in the classroom with the girls. You’d be able to see what’s expected of them, and then pass along the message.”
Blanching, he said, “Me? Back in school? No, thanks. Tell you what I will do, though. The girls and I will have a nice, long talk about no more recess tree climbing.”
“I’d appreciate it,” Josie said, unsure what to do with her hands.
Thankfully, seeing how most of her class had joined the twins in the bed of Dallas’s truck, she had more pressing matters than the study of how his hat brim’s shadow darkened his eyes.
“MOM,” DALLAS SAID THAT NIGHT, chopping an onion for her famous spaghetti sauce, “I swear that woman’s going to drive me off the deep end.”
Georgina Buckhorn sighed. “How can you be intimidated by a scrap of a kindergarten teacher?”
“Who said I was intimidated?” Dallas brought the knife down especially hard on the onion. The clap of metal hitting the wooden cutting board echoed in the big country kitchen. “She annoys me, that’s all.”
“Because she speaks the truth and you don’t want to hear it?” Her back to him, she took pasta from an upper shelf. She was a tall woman made all the more imposing by the top knot she’d formed with her long silver hair. Once upon a time, before Dallas lost Bobbie Jo, his mother’s words had been gold. Now, Dallas resented her for getting into his parenting business. It wasn’t that they didn’t get along, but where the girls were concerned, they no longer shared the same values.
She always nagged him about the twins needing more discipline, but to his way of thinking, wasn’t losing their mother enough? Bobbie Jo had died giving them life. Her last whispered words had been for him to put his love for her into their babies. By God, every day since, that was exactly what he’d done.
Bonnie and Betsy were his world and no one—not his mom and certainly not their teacher—was going to tell him he was a bad parent when his life was dedicated to their happiness.
“Dallas,” his mother said, dropping pasta into a pot of already boiling water on the industrial-size stove, “this house is big enough that we can generally keep to our own business, but this is one matter on which I refuse to bend. Sunday night, I caught Betsy drawing all over her bathroom mirror with lipstick. My brand-new Chanel lipstick I bought last time we were in Tulsa. When I asked her to help clean the mess, she crossed her arms, raised her chin and flat out told me, ‘no.’ Now, does that sound reasonable to you?”
After dumping diced onions into a pan filled with Italian sausage, he took the cutting board and knife to the sink, running them both under water.
“Ignore me all you want, but deep down, you know I’m right.” Behind him, her hand on his shoulder, she added, “A large part of being a good parent is sometimes being the bad guy. You have to set boundaries. Just like your father and I did with you and your brothers.”
“That’s different. We were all hell on horseback.”
She snorted. “Like your girls are any different because they’re only riding the ponies you gave them for Christmas?”
“They love those cuties.” He bristled. “Ponies topped the twins’ Santa lists.”
“Doesn’t make it right.” She stirred the meat and onions that’d started to sizzle above a gas flame. “Clint Eastwood topped my wish list, but you don’t see me out gallivanting, do you?”
“You’re impossible.” His back turned, he took his work coat from the peg mounted alongside the back door. “I’m going to check the cattle.”
“Mark my words, Dallas Buckhorn, you might temporarily hide from this situation, but sooner or later you have to deal with your rambunctious girls.”
“GOT IT! AND IT ONLY TOOK ten strokes.” Friday evening, on hole seven of Potter’s Putt-Putt, Natalie performed a little dance that revealed she may have had one too many beers. It was the monthly ladies’ night and judging by the slew of high scores, none of the foursome would give the LPGA a run for their money any time soon.
First grade teacher, Shelby Foster, pushed the counselor aside. “Let me show you how a professional does it…”
“Professional what?” Cami Vettle, the school secretary teased in a raunchy tone.
For the first time in what felt like weeks, Josie truly laughed and it felt not only good, but long overdue. Until just now, she hadn’t realized how much stress she’d been under. She’d always loved her job. As a general rule, kindergarteners were a lovable, trouble-free bunch. Oh, sure, she’d dealt with plenty of mischief, but nothing as regular and confounding as the stunts of Betsy and Bonnie Buckhorn.
“You all right?” Natalie asked while waiting for the other women to take their turns.
“Sure,” Josie said, swirling her plastic cup of beer. “Why wouldn’t I be?” White lights decorated the course’s trees. With temperatures in the seventies, it felt as if fall had finally arrived. Shrieks of laughter mingled with top-forty music blaring from loudspeakers. The mouthwatering scent of the snack bar’s trademark barbecue normally would have her stomach growling. Lately, though, she’d been so consumed with dreaming up a delicate way to manage the twins that she forgot to eat.
“You seem awfully quiet. Man trouble?” Tipsy, Natalie leaned on Josie’s shoulder. Beer mingled with her pretty floral perfume, again causing Josie’s lips to curve into a smile.
“Oh, sure. As you full well know, I haven’t been with a man since Lyle, and he was a disaster.”
“Only because you didn’t put an ounce of effort into the relationship. It’s been four years since Hugh died. He wouldn’t want you to be lonely.”
Then why had he left her?
“Who said I am?” Josie swigged her beer. “And who are you to talk? When’s the last time you went on a date?”
“Two weeks ago, thank you very much.”
“Your turn,” Cami said to Josie, writing down her score. “What are you two gossiping about?”
“Nat, here, says she had a date.” Josie centered the ball on the putting mat before giving it a swat. It landed between a giant plaster frog and a rubber lily pad. “You believe her?”
“Absolutely. It was with the UPS man. I witnessed him asking her in the front office.”
“Impressive…” Josie’s shot landed her ball ten feet from the moat’s dragon. Sighing, she stepped over a second lily pad to set up for stroke three.
“Kind of like Betsy and Bonnie’s dad. Whew.” Cheeks flushed, Cami fanned herself with the scorecard. “He’s gorgeous.”
“Don’t look now, but he’s also headed this way…” Natalie downed the rest of her beer.
Upon meeting Dallas’s penetrating stare, Josie hit her ball all the way to Hansel and Gretel’s cottage on hole fourteen!
Chapter Two
“Ladies…” Dallas tipped his hat to Bonnie and Betsy’s teacher and three other women he’d seen around the girls’ school. “Nice night to be on the links.”
The tall brunette laughed at his joke.
“Miss Griffin?” He was intrigued by the notion that she found it necessary to hide behind a pine.
“Please,” she mumbled, ducking out from behind a particularly full bough to extend her hand, “outside of school you can call me Josie.”
When their fingers touched, he was unprepared for the breeze of awareness whispering through him. It’d been so long since he’d noticed any woman beyond casual conversation that he abruptly released her. Just as hastily broke their stare. Had she felt that shift from the ordinary, too?
“Hi, Miss Griffin!” The twins and three of their more giggly friends danced around him.
“H-hi, girls,” their teacher said. Had she always been so hot? Maybe it was the course’s dim lighting, but her complexion glowed as pretty as his mama’s Sunday pearls. Her hair hung long and wild, and she wore the hell out of a pair of faded jeans and a University of Oklahoma sweatshirt. Red cowboy boots peeked out from beneath her hems. “You all having a party?”
Bonnie nodded. “Daddy’s letting us have a sleepover for doing good on our chores all week.”
“Congratulations,” their teacher said, patting Bonnie’s back. “I’m proud of you.”
His daughter beamed.
Feeling damned proud for having raised such a conscientious sweetheart, Dallas couldn’t help but grin.
“Come on, Daddy.” Betsy yanked his arm. “Let’s play.”
“Well…” Oddly reluctant to end the conversation, Dallas said, “Guess I’d better get going. My bosses are calling.”
The look Josie Griffin shot him was painful. As if she disapproved of his play on words. The notion annoyed him and brought him back to the reality of who she was in the grand scheme of things. A teacher he’d never see again after his girls’ kindergarten graduation. As for his musings on her good looks? A waste of time he wouldn’t be repeating.
“I KNOW, KITTY, THE MAN’S infuriating, isn’t he?” While Josie’s calico performed figure eights between her legs, she spooned gourmet cat food onto a china saucer. Her friends thought she was nutty for lavishing so much attention on her pet, but Kitty had been a wedding gift from Hugh. When she one day lost her furry friend, she didn’t know what she’d do. In some ways, it would be like losing her husband all over again.
Another thing her friends nagged her about was worrying over events that hadn’t happened. But surviving the kinds of things Josie had taught her to never underestimate any signs—no matter how seemingly insignificant.
“Kitty,” she said, setting the saucer on the wide planked walnut floor, “do you think when it comes to the Trouble Twins I’m looking for problems where there are none?”
Chowing down on his Albacore Tuna Delight, Kitty couldn’t have cared less.
Josie took a banana from the bowl she kept filled with seasonal fruit. Usually in her honey-gold kitchen with its granite counters, colorful rag rugs and green floral curtains, she felt warm and cozy. Content with her lot in life. Yes, she’d faced unspeakable tragedy early on, but as years passed, she’d grown accustomed to living on her own. She shopped Saturday morning yard sales for quilting fabric and took ballet every Thursday night. Even after three years, she was the worst in her class, but the motions and music were soothing—unlike her impromptu meeting with Dallas Buckhorn.
Her hand meeting his had produced the queerest sensation. Lightning in a bottle. Had it been her imagination? A by-product of beer mixed with moonlight? Or just Nat’s gushing praise of the man’s sinfully good looks catching like a virus?
ON MONDAY MORNING, as calmly as possible, Josie fished for the green snake one of her darlings had thoughtfully placed in her desk drawer. Finally grabbing hold of him—or her—she held it up for her class’s squealing perusal. “Don’t suppose any of you lost this?”
Bonnie Buckhorn raised her hand. “Sorry. He got out of my lunch bag.”
“Yes, well, come and get him and—” Josie dumped yarn from a nearby plastic tub, and then set the writhing snake inside. “Everyone line up. We’re taking a field trip.”
“Where? Where?” sang a chorus of hyper five-yearolds.
Bonnie took the tub.
“We’re going to take Bonnie’s friend outside—where he belongs.”
“You’re not letting him go!” Bonnie hugged the yellow tub, vigorously shaking her head.
“Yes, that’s exactly what we’re going to do. Now, I need this week’s light buddies to do their job, please.”
Sarah Boyden and Thomas Quinn scampered out of line to switch off the front and back fluorescent lights.
“Please, ma’am,” Betsy said while her twin stood beneath the American and Oklahoman flags crying, “Bonnie didn’t mean to put Green Bean in your desk.”
“Then how did he get there?” Josie asked as Sarah and Thomas rejoined the line.
“Um…” She gnawed her bottom lip. “He wanted to go for a walk, but then he got lost.”
“Uh-huh.” Hands on her hips, miles behind on the morning’s lesson, Josie said, “Get in line. Bonnie, you, too.”
Bonnie tilted her head back and screamed.
Not just your garden-variety kindergarten outrage, but a full-blown tantrum generally reserved for toy store emergencies. A whole minute later she was still screaming so loud that her classmates put their hands over their ears.
Josie tried reasoning with her, but Bonnie wouldn’t hush longer than the few seconds it took to drag in a fresh batch of air. Not sure what else to do, Josie resorted to pressing the intercom’s call button.
“Office.”
“Cami!” Josie shouted over Bonnie, “I need Nat down here right away.”
The door burst open and Shelby ran in. “What’s wrong? Sounds like someone’s dying.”
Nat followed, out of breath and barely able to speak. “C-Cami said it sounds like someone’s dying.”
Both women eyed the squirming student lineup and then Bonnie. Betsy stood alongside her, whispering something only her twin could hear—that is, if she’d quieted enough to listen.
“Sweetie,” Josie tried reasoning with the girl, “if Green Bean is your pet, I won’t let him go, but we’ll have to call your father to come get him. You know it’s against our rules to bring pets to school when it’s not for show-and-tell.”
For Josie’s ears only, Natalie said, “Hang tight, I’ll get hold of her dad.”
“LOOK,” DALLAS SAID AN HOUR later. When he’d gotten the counselor’s call, he’d been out on the back forty, vaccinating late summer calves. It was a wonder he’d even heard his cell ring. “If my girl said the snake got in her teacher’s desk by accident, then that’s what happened. Nobody saw her do it. Even if it did purposely end up there, how many boys are in her class? Could one of them have done it?” In the principal’s office, Bonnie sat on one of his knees, Betsy on the other. Stroking their hair, he added, “I’m a busy man. I don’t appreciate having to come all the way down here for something so minor.”
Principal Moody sighed. With gray hair, gray suit and black pearls, she looked more like a prison guard than someone who dealt with children. “Mr. Buckhorn, in many ways schools are communities. Much like the town of Weed Gulch, our elementary maintains easy to understand laws by which all of our citizens must abide. I’ve been at this job for over thirty-five years and not once have I seen a snake accidentally find its way into a teacher’s desk. I have, however, encountered fourteen cases of students placing their reptiles in various inappropriate locations.”
Hardening his jaw, Dallas asked, “You calling my girl a liar? Look how upset she still is…”
Bonnie hiccupped and sniffled.
