The Cowboy's Double Trouble

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“I guess there’s another reason I never quite fit in...” She paused and bit down on her lower lip.

“What’s that?” he prodded.

She let out a soft sigh. “My mom was an artist, although as far as I know, she never did much with it. She was too busy feeling sorry for herself. But while I can’t really draw or paint, I inherited her creativity and eye for color and style.”

Braden tore open the wrapping, then tossed the paper in the trash. “That makes you different?”

“Yes, but...it’s complicated.” She opened up her Popsicle, too, and tossed the wrapping. Then she licked the orange treat.

Damn. The woman couldn’t even eat a kid’s snack without looking as sexy as hell and setting his hormones pumping.

As if not having a clue what she was doing to him, she continued. “Laura is a good cook and a great mom, but she’s not very artistic or creative. So her decorating skill leaves something to be desired. A couple of times, I rearranged things to make the house more appealing or the artwork better balanced. And I think it bothered her.”

“Did she say something about it?”

“Not the first time, which is why I didn’t think anything about doing it again. But this last time she got very quiet afterward. When I returned last week, I saw that she’d put things back the way they were.” Elena’s brow furrowed, and she worried her bottom lip. Then she said, “Maybe it offended her. Or it could remind her of my mother and all the grief she put them through. I don’t know. Maybe I’m just being sensitive.” She shrugged. “Boy, listen to me going on and on about myself.”

As curious as Braden continued to be, he was a little relieved that she was done talking about her personal life. He’d never been comfortable with anyone expressing their emotions, or expecting him to talk about his own.

He took a seat at the kitchen table, and she followed suit. They sat quietly for a while, lost in their thoughts, but he couldn’t ignore the beautiful woman sitting across from him.

“So tell me your plans for the dress shop you intend to open,” he said.

“I’m going to call it The Attic. But it’ll be more than just a dress shop. I’m going to have a lot of other things for sale.”

Something told him she’d be a real success at whatever she chose to do. “What kind of other things?”

“Shoes; fun, quirky gifts; decorator items and things like that. Have you ever shopped at Anthropologie?”

He shook his head. It sounded like a college course to him.

She gave a little shrug. “Well, if you’re not familiar with that store, then it wasn’t a useful example. Not that I’m going to copy them by any means. The Attic will be unique. I’m going to place my own mark on it.” She began to brighten, those honey-brown eyes glimmering with building excitement. “I have big plans for it and have already done a lot of the footwork. I’ve found suppliers for the exact kind of merchandise I want to offer for sale. I’ll also be able to sell used treasures I purchase at estate sales. And best of all, when this all comes together for me, I can finally leave Brighton Valley behind.”

Brighton Valley?

Or her dad and stepmom?

He supposed it didn’t matter. “So why Houston and not Austin?”

“The store where I used to work is a little similar to what I plan for The Attic. Besides, Houston is only two hours away, so my dad and Laura won’t think I abandoned them completely.”

“I didn’t realize you were so eager to move away,” he said.

She flashed him a pretty smile and pointed at him with her half-eaten orange Popsicle. “Don’t get me wrong. I’ll come home to visit, especially on holidays, but I’m really looking forward to finally establishing my life and career in the city.”

Braden didn’t want to think about her leaving right now. Not when he was just barely getting to know her and had the urge to learn even more. He stole a glance her way and caught her studying him intently.

“Tell me more about the twins,” she said. “I’ve only spent a few hours with them, but they’re cool kids. They’re not only cute, they’re bright and funny, too.”

“The language difference makes it tough for me to get a handle on their personalities, although I’ve figured out that Bela is sweet and motherly, while Beto is inquisitive and loves animals.”

“I’ll work on teaching them English, and before you know it, you’ll be able to communicate with them.” She took another bite of her frozen treat. “What do you know about their life before coming here?”

“Not much.” Braden finished off his Popsicle, then tossed the stick in the trash. “Did they say anything to you about their background?”

“I didn’t quiz them. Do you want me to?”

“Yes, if you’d be sensitive and do it gently. My brother and sister don’t speak Spanish, either—at least not well enough to broach a difficult subject with two kids who lost both their mom and their dad within two years. We’re pretty sure about what’s gone on in their lives in the past six months, but the whole Camilla mystery has all three of us curious.”

“Who’s Camilla?”

“Their mother. Camilla Cruz was an artist who died of breast cancer two years ago.”

“What do you mean by her ‘mystery’?”

“Camilla’s father, Reuben, used to be a foreman on the Leaning R Ranch, but he quit and returned to Mexico about four years ago, telling Granny Rayburn that he had a family emergency to tend to.” Braden raked a hand through his hair. “Camilla had visited the Leaning R, and she and my dad became lovers. But she left Texas without telling him where she was going.”

“Was she pregnant with the twins when she left?”

“Apparently. I’m not sure he knew it, though. I suspect that he only learned about their existence in the past year or so because, six months ago, he hired a private investigative firm to find the kids in Mexico. Then he went with the PI to bring them back to the States, but he and the investigator were both killed in a car accident. So I’m afraid any other details about Beto and Bela died with them, as well as the reason he had placed various pieces of Camilla’s artwork in storage in San Antonio.”

Elena leaned forward and placed her elbows on the table. “How do you know the twins are his?”

“They were born in San Diego, and Charles Rayburn is listed as their father on their birth certificates. Their passports reflect the same thing, and we have reason to believe that once he learned of their existence, he never doubted that they were his.”

“So you don’t think he knew about them until recently?”

“My dad was always financially generous with his kids, and there was no record of him having paid any child support payments for Beto and Bela. So it’s pretty obvious that he’d only recently found out about them and meant to bring them home.”

“How did they get here?” she asked.

“When it was learned that my dad had been working with a private investigator, I wondered what he’d been looking for.”

“He didn’t tell anyone?”

“My dad?” Braden slowly shook his head. “He never shared his personal life with me—or with anyone. Jason worked for Rayburn Enterprises, and even he didn’t know why our old man had left the country or hired a bilingual PI firm.”

“How did you find out about the twins? Did you go through the investigator’s company records?”

“There weren’t many notes that could help. I’d just gotten home from my first and last go round on the rodeo circuit and didn’t have anything else going on at the time. So, to appease my curiosity and to get my mind off the fact that my body was in no shape to pursue a career in bull riding, I took a little trip south of the border to see what I could find out. A week later, I learned that my dad had been looking for twins who’d been placed in an orphanage. Come to find out, they were Camilla’s children, and she’d passed away a couple years earlier.”

“So you were able to bring them back to the States?”

“I would have, but when my grandpa took a turn for the worse, I rushed home to be with him and my mom. So Jason took up the search and found them living with a woman our old man had hired just before the accident.”

Elena seemed to consider everything he’d told her. And he couldn’t blame her. It had been a lot for him—for any of them—to wrap their minds around. But she was a good listener, at least better than the buckle bunnies he’d gotten involved with on the pro rodeo circuit.

“I can see where you’d be curious about their early years,” she said. “I’ll ask a few questions to see what they have to say.”

“Thanks. Jason and his wife made it a point not to discuss the situation in front of them, even though they don’t speak English. So it would be nice if we could get a better understanding of what went down with their mother and our father before we tell them anything.”

“You mean, they don’t know what’s going to become of them?” she asked, her pretty brow furrowed. “Do they know they’re related to you? It could be very unsettling not to know where you’re going to live or who will be taking care of you.”

“Either Jason or Carly will probably become their legal guardian, although we haven’t decided who’s going to do it yet. We’re still trying to deal with the news and to determine what’s best for them.”

“Who took care of them while they were living in Mexico?” she asked.

“For the past six months, it was the woman my dad hired, but she didn’t offer much information.”

“Because of the language barrier?”

Braden blew out a sigh. “That was only part of it. She wasn’t very warm or loving.”

“Did she treat them badly?”

“You might ask them, but they didn’t appear to have been neglected or abused. Apparently, when my dad didn’t return when he said he would, she assumed that he’d abandoned them and cheated her out of the money he owed her. She was just about to return them to the orphanage where they’d been living before my dad found them.”

“That’s so sad.”

“We thought so, too.” Braden tore his gaze away and studied the pattern on the tile floor. His heart went out to the poor kids, and he was determined to be a good big brother. He just wished he would have had one he could emulate. Jason had often avoided him or ignored him while they’d grown up. Not that he’d been eager to make friends, either.

But that was just one more thing he could blame on his father, one more handicap he hoped he’d overcome.

Fortunately, things were better between the half siblings now, which only made him regret the years they could have had. But that was all water under the bridge.

Yet, in spite of his resolve not to stew about the past—or his lovely companion—his thoughts and his gaze drifted off anyway.

* * *

Elena hadn’t meant to stare at the handsome cowboy, but he was so deep in thought that his expression was hard to read, even though a slew of emotions filled his meadow-green eyes like a soft summer rain.

Besides, he intrigued her. His family did, too, especially when she considered the great effort they’d gone to in order to bring the kids to Texas and their determination to provide them a home.

Even the late Charles Rayburn, with his obvious faults, had gone to retrieve his son and daughter when he’d learned of their situation—and maybe even their existence.

It would seem that finding the twins and claiming them as equals would cost the older Rayburn siblings when it came to dividing their inheritance. She’d heard their father had been worth jillions, so maybe the money didn’t matter that much. Either way, she suspected there was some kind of honor between them, which was nice.

While she didn’t know much about the Rayburn side of the family, she did know something about Braden’s maternal grandfather.

Gerald Miller had ranched in Brighton Valley for years. He’d even spent time on the town council for a while. And Shannon Miller, Braden’s mom, was involved in the women’s auxiliary at the Wexler Community Church. They were what Elena’s father called buena gente—good people.

When Braden looked up and caught Elena studying him, her cheeks warmed and she quickly turned away.

Okay, so maybe there was another reason she’d flushed with embarrassment when he caught her gaze just seconds ago. She hadn’t been just noting his furrowed brow.

She’d also been checking out his profile, his chiseled cheekbones and his square-cut jaw.

He stood, drawing her attention, and returned to the freezer with a long, lean cowboy swagger.

“You want another Popsicle?” he asked, as he turned to face her, a dimpled smile on his handsome face.

“No, thank you. One is enough.” She’d already spent enough time with him and had opened up in an unexpected way. All she needed was to lower her guard to the point of doing or saying something she’d regret in the morning.

Braden was the kind of man who could turn a woman’s head, but Elena wouldn’t let her attraction get out of hand. Of course, that was easier said than done when her hormones were triggering romantic thoughts that were totally inappropriate.

She blamed it on the stillness of the house in the evening and the admiration she felt for him because he was trying so hard to do right by Beto and Bela. But she couldn’t continue to chat with him tonight. It could only lead to trouble—or, at the very least, temptation. She had a job to do. And while it was far removed from anything she’d created on her vision board back in January, she would see her commitment through. She hadn’t been lying when she’d said she loved her stepmom, but Elena had made a vow to herself that she would never settle down as some country housewife and pop out a bunch of babies, especially with a former rodeo cowboy.