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She shook her head. “Don’t forget I grew up here. It’s not that much of a culture shock for me to return to my roots.”
And if it was, she most certainly wasn’t going to admit that to Simon. She still had the feeling he was pushing her to justify the decisions she’d now made, just as she had put it all out there about her past and admitted her mistakes.
Well, her decisions were her own, and none of his business.
“You said you want to be a special part of the twins’ lives. What, exactly, does that look like?”
She tensed for the answer. She didn’t trust him as far as she could throw him, which wouldn’t be far, big lug that he was. And she suspected he didn’t trust her, either.
“Exactly?” he echoed. “I don’t know. You let me in to your life. I let you in to mine. Maybe we can do things once in a while. With the twins, I mean.”
He cringed. He literally, actually cringed, enough that Miranda could see it in his expression. Was he looking for reassurance that the twins were safe and loved with her? And was it really that distasteful for him to consider spending time with her?
He was certainly no picnic, either.
She narrowed her gaze on him.
“Like what?” she asked warily.
“Take them to the playground. Attend community events together. Maybe have them come meet my puppies. Simple country living.”
If that was all it was—and if Simon was really serious about this...
The twins could use another good male role model in their lives. Emphasis on good.
If Simon started acting like a jerk, this arrangement stopped.
“I accept.”
“Simple country living,” he repeated, appearing surprised that she’d relented so easily.
“Yeah. I got that,” she said sardonically.
“You won’t miss your old life? The parties? The society? The dazzle?”
The truth was, she was tired of the limelight. Even being the one behind the camera, every aspect of her life was exposed to the public eye. A nice, quiet cabin on a remote Texas ranch didn’t sound so bad.
Okay, so maybe not quiet, what with two babies who made their needs known loud and clear at all hours of the day and night. But private, in any case.
She stared at him for a moment, trying to read his expression, but he did a good job concealing his thoughts.
“I suppose I won’t have many opportunities to wear any of the glitzy cocktail dresses I’ve accumulated, but I can still tote around my designer purses. I’ll have the best-dressed diaper bag in town,” she joked.
He didn’t laugh. He didn’t even crack a smile.
He didn’t think she was good enough to be Harper and Hudson’s guardian.
Well, join the club, buster.
He was going to have to stand in line to claim that particular conclusion, because she’d already tried that one on for size, and unfortunately, it fit.
She sighed wearily. “Look. I get why you’re concerned. I don’t know why Mary chose me to be the twins’ guardian. I only know she did, and I’m going to do the very best I can with what I’ve been given.”
His lips were pressed into a straight line and his expression didn’t give anything away. She half expected him to tell her to give up now. That was what he was here for, wasn’t it? To bully her?
She might not have as much confidence in her maternal abilities as she would like, but if he was going to press her, she would push right back. She wasn’t a vulnerable teenager anymore.
She wouldn’t let herself be trod upon by Simon, or by any other man. It had happened once, in Los Angeles. It would never happen again.
Her words were brave, but in the deepest recesses of her heart, the question continued to nag at her.
Could a woman like her really learn to be a mother?
Chapter Two (#ucc0fc3e4-0b10-5514-bb1b-61d8b839312f)
Simon waved as Miranda pulled her tulip-yellow convertible up his long driveway and parked next to his beat-up silver dual-cab truck—a considerably more reliable vehicle in a small ranching town. The tiny two-door looked incongruous next to his old truck and the red barn, which desperately needed a new coat of paint.
It had been a full week since they’d had their confrontation, such as it was. He was still reeling from that one. It hadn’t gone anything like he’d imagined it would.
He hadn’t expected Miranda to own up to her mistakes, or even to feel any remorse about missing the twins’ christening.
But she’d not only felt remorse, she’d shown it, too, throwing Simon off his game. It took a strong soul to do that. At this point he didn’t know what to think of her.
The jury was still very much out on Miranda Morgan.
But no matter how he felt about her, now that the twins were living in Wildhorn, he’d have the opportunity to get to know his godchildren better, and he wasn’t going to pass up on that blessing, no matter what form it had shown up in.
He chuckled as Miranda maneuvered halfway into the backseat in order to release the children from their car seats and pass them out to him. He would never understand why rich folks always bought minuscule sports cars to show off their wealth. No normal-size person could fit comfortably behind the wheel, and Miranda was tall for a woman—and many men.
In all, it took her about five minutes of squirming and stretching to get the deed done. Eventually, Miranda had managed to unfold herself from the backseat and take Harper into her arms.
“I know, I know,” she said before Simon could say a word.
He cocked an eyebrow.
“This car is completely inappropriate for the country,” Miranda spouted, rolling her eyes. He didn’t sense a hint of the annoyance he’d been expecting from her, given that the last time they’d seen each other he’d come at her with a baker’s dozen of accusations. “Thank you so much for inviting us to your ranch today to see the puppies being born.”
He’d been less than tactful that day at the cabin. He thought she might—or rather, ought to—be upset by their altercation, and his, let’s face it, blatant rudeness at times, even if at the end of their conversation they’d come to an uneasy truce. But if anything, Miranda’s voice was laced with pure excitement, the same kind of childlike attitude she’d displayed while stretched out underneath her make-believe sheet tent, reading fairy tales with the twins.
“Of course, I grew up on a ranch, so I’ve seen baby animals born before,” Miranda said in the same animated tone. “But never puppies. Birth is such a beautiful thing. The twins will be so excited.”
He didn’t know about the twins. He suspected they were too young to appreciate the event, although they’d probably enjoy the new puppies.
But Miranda?
Her hazel eyes were sparkling with delight.
He was proud to be able to show off such a vital part of his work, and one of his most satisfying.
He didn’t trust Miranda, but he wanted to make sure she trusted him, to see that he worked hard and was successful with his endeavors, that he was stable and dependable, so she would have no questions about him being around for the twins, about him being a good role model for them.
He wanted to be dependable and stable for the twins. Be their rock when the world floundered around them. Be the man he’d never had in his life when he was a child.
Of course, by nature his business was anything but stable, but she didn’t have to know that.
“I own six female Australian cattle dogs,” he explained as he led the happy group into the barn, Hudson in his arms. “All from top working lines. I think I’ve mentioned a little bit about how this works. I selectively breed them and then train the pups to work cattle using their natural herding instincts.”
“I’m impressed.” There was an awkward pause, then she smiled.
Her words inflated his ego and he couldn’t help but grin back at her. That was exactly what he wanted to hear.
“I get by,” he said modestly.
Barely.
Yes, he made a decent profit on the pups, but a lot of work went into preparing them for ranch work, not to mention the vet and feed bills. And it was a feast or famine kind of lifestyle. Funds came in when he sold a litter of puppies, and then he had to make that stretch until the next litter was trained and ready to go to their new owners. So it wasn’t exactly like he was swimming in money.
Not like she must be. Famous photographer to the stars. Traveling all over the world. Living a lifestyle of glitz and glamour that no doubt made her feel a step above the rest of the world. She probably made more in one day than he made in a good year. There was no way he, a humble cowboy, could even begin to compare to her—not that he wanted to.
“That’s Shadow.” He introduced the blue heeler to Miranda as she knelt before the cattle dog about to give birth.
“Is it okay if I pet her?” she asked, shifting a now-sleeping Harper onto one shoulder. “I don’t want to do the wrong thing.”
He studied Shadow for a moment and then nodded.
“Sure. I don’t think petting her will be a problem. You’ll reassure her that she’s got this. I generally tend to stay out of the way when the puppies come and let nature take its course, but I’m always nearby in case she needs help with her delivery.”
“She’s such a pretty color.” Miranda softly stroked between Shadow’s ears and murmured gentle, indistinguishable words.
“She’s called a blue heeler. I’ve also got red. I breed for color, working lines, temperament and health.”
Shadow stood up, turned around in her whelping box a couple of times, and then lay down and panted heavily.
“It looks like she’s close.” Simon crouched down next to the box.
Miranda reached out the arm that wasn’t holding Harper. “Here, let me take Hudson so you have your hands free to help Shadow.”
Simon didn’t immediately hand him over. Unlike the peacefully sleeping Harper, wiggly Hudson was wide-awake and squirming to get down, his thick chestnut-brown hair tufting in every direction, reminding Simon of a rooster. Simon didn’t want to set the active baby on the dirty barn floor, even if he’d recently covered the area with a fresh layer of hay.
But holding a sleeping infant and a squirrelly one at the same time would be quite the challenge for Miranda. Hudson was sure to wake Harper up, and she might not be happy about that. Then Miranda would have a vigorous baby and a fussy one.
What did Miranda do during all the times when it was just her and the twins? How on earth did she manage without going stir-crazy?
She hadn’t said a word of complaint, at least to him, but she must be exhausted beyond belief. He was only now starting to appreciate her new set of challenges. Even if she was an expert and, as she’d framed it, a natural nurturer, raising twins on her own would be difficult. It was more than he could have handled, were he the one in that position.
He loved the twins, but he didn’t envy Miranda. He had to remind himself that she might be putting on a show for him. For all he knew, she was only displaying her good side when the truth was far from what he saw now.
“Hold on a second,” he said, keeping Hudson in his arms. “Let me run up to the house and grab a quilt. Then we can put both twins down while we watch Shadow giving birth.”
“Good idea,” she replied with a grateful smile.
As he jogged up the hill to the ranch house, it occurred to him that maybe he could find some graham crackers or a banana to keep the ever-hungry Hudson occupied. Although a banana might get messy. He’d go with the graham crackers.
Simon found himself grinning and whistling a tune under his breath as he returned to the barn with Hudson in one arm, already munching on a graham cracker, and the rest of the box to share with Harper if she woke, but his joy was short-lived.
As soon as he entered the barn he knew something had changed. Miranda was standing, Harper was crying, and—
His new next-door neighbor, arms akimbo, was hovering over Shadow’s whelping box, her expression dire.
This old biddy had caused him nothing but trouble since the moment she’d moved into the active-senior housing development that bordered the land across the south end of his small acreage.
She’d already complained to him about the noise when he’d let the dogs out for a run, both his cattle dogs and his rescues. Cattle dogs needed tons of exercise and the rescues needed fresh air and the chance to stretch their legs.
He usually rode his horse along with the dogs, covering the whole distance of his land, but after Blanche Stanton had lodged her first complaint with him, he’d made a point to drive the dogs in the opposite direction from the housing community.
He couldn’t imagine what the old woman was doing here now. She was blatantly trespassing, for one thing. He hadn’t invited her to visit his property. What did she think? That she could just nose around in his barn whenever she liked?
Simon’s muscles tightened and Hudson made a squeal of protest.
“Sorry, buddy,” he murmured before handing the boy off to Miranda and spreading the quilt across the soft bed of hay for the twins, giving him a moment to decide how to approach the unwanted trespasser as he and Miranda situated the babies on the blanket.
“Blanche Stanton,” he said drily. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”
Miranda caught his gaze and her eyes widened. She hadn’t missed the dripping sarcasm oozing from his voice.
Blanche obviously wasn’t aware that waltzing onto someone else’s property was considered trespassing. Or maybe she just didn’t care. The hunchbacked, gray-haired old lady turned on him, brandishing her cane like a weapon. It was all he could do not to step back, but he straightened his shoulders and held his ground.
“More puppies?” she barked—her voice really did sound like a bark, all dry and coarse. Simon bit back a smile, recognizing that Blanche would be furious if she knew what he was thinking. “You justify bringing more dogs into this world when you already have too many running around this place as it is? This is outrageous. I’ve a good mind to call the animal control police and report you.”
Miranda’s brow scrunched over her nose. He could see the wheels of her mind turning as she tried to comprehend the incomprehensible.
“This is what Simon does for a living. He breeds herding dogs.”
Miranda sounded genuinely confused, as well she might. In Simon’s brief encounters with the old woman, she rarely made a lick of sense.
“What?” Blanche demanded, turning her attention to Miranda. “Who are you?”
“Miranda Morgan. And not that it’s any of your business, but Simon raises and trains Australian cattle dogs especially bred for herding,” she said, louder and slower, overenunciating each syllable as if somehow that would help Blanche understand what she was saying. “His dogs are supposed to have puppies.”
Wow.
Miranda had really been paying attention to what he’d been telling her. His appreciation for her bumped up a notch.
Blanche cackled, but not in amusement.
“Obviously, you don’t have the full story, my dear.”
Miranda stiffened at the artificial endearment, but her voice was steady when she answered. “Simon has been completely up front with me.”
