A Cowboy For The Twins. Carolyne Aarsen
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meant like a mixer, but my grandpa said that it meant it wasn’t reliable. My grandpa is kind of smart. Just like my dad was.” Millie sighed and gave Noah a wistful look. “My dad is dead. He died in the overseas. Two years ago.”
“Two and a half,” her sister corrected, her mouth pursed as she clutched her book. “And it’s not in the overseas, it’s just overseas. It was in Afghanistan. He was a doctor without borders. We used to be sad, but now we’re not so sad anymore. My name is Margaret and my sister’s name is Millie.”
“I’m sorry for you,” Noah said. He’d heard bits and pieces about Roger Dexter from Josiah whenever Noah stopped by the work site. Josiah had been proud of Roger, and when he was killed, Josiah was devastated. Noah gave him a week off to be with his parents and sister.
Now Josiah was gone as well.
Noah wondered again about the wisdom of coming back to Cedar Ridge. But he had made a promise to his mother and his cousin Cord, whose wedding he had come to attend, and he couldn’t back out now.
“My daddy was a hero,” Millie put in. “That’s what my grandpa says. A genuine hero.”
Noah experienced a tinge of melancholy at the girl’s admiring words. A doctor working selflessly for other people. That was the very definition of hero. “He sure was,” he agreed.
“Not for two hours?” Shauntelle’s annoyed cry broke into the conversation. She clutched her cell phone in one hand, the other grabbing her head. “Okay. I guess I don’t have a choice.”
She slid her phone in the back pocket of her blue jeans, her hands clasped around the back of her neck. It wasn’t hard to read the frustration on her face.
“That’s a long wait,” Noah said.
“Yep.” Shauntelle massaged her neck with her hands, then dropped them on her hips. “Well, girls, guess we’re stuck here for a while.”
An awkward silence fell at that. Noah knew he couldn’t leave Shauntelle here. The road dead-ended at his mother’s ranch. If Carmen Fisher was in Calgary, she wouldn’t be back for a couple of hours. There was only one other family who lived down this road.
“Do you know if Mr. and Mrs. Anderson are home?” he asked.
“They only come in the summer,” the other twin said with a tone of resignation. “No one else will come down this road.”
And his mother couldn’t help them out either. She hadn’t been feeling well the past few weeks, which was one of the reasons he’d made the trip back to Cedar Ridge. She hadn’t been diagnosed with anything specific. Some vertigo, some headaches, low iron. Just worn and weary, was all she would tell him.
“Can you help us do deliveries?” Millie asked. “You have a big truck.”
“Mr. Cosgrove is probably busy.” Shauntelle’s voice held an undertone of condemnation. “I’ll try Leanne. Maybe she can help. She’s got a big SUV.”
She punched in another set of numbers, which was followed by a few seconds of silence. Guess that was a no-go too. He saw the battle on Shauntelle’s face, and he knew she fought her anger with him and the reality of her situation.
“I don’t mind helping,” he said.
“Okay. Fine.” She tossed out the words like they were poison. “I need to make a delivery to Mrs. Fisher’s place. If you could bring me back to my parents’ house after, that would be great.”
“But what about all the other stuff?” Millie put in. “You said we need to deliver them to get enough money for the eggs in your nest.”
Noah repressed a grin at the mash-up of the term.
“Can you help us deliver those too?” Millie asked, turning to Noah and giving him a mournful look.
He shouldn’t give in. Shauntelle didn’t want to go with him any more than he wanted her to.
“If we don’t get them to the customers they’ll be no good,” the other twin said. “Some of them are perishable. Like the meat pies.”
“Mr. Cosgrove probably has far more important things to do.” Shauntelle spoke quietly, but there was enough of a sting in her voice to bother him. “And my nest can manage without the extra money.”
“But that would be wasteful,” Millie wailed.
“I’m just going to my mom’s place,” Noah said. “I don’t have much else planned.”
“Does your mom live just before Mrs. Fisher’s?” Millie asked, her eyes suddenly wide. “Does she own the place with the big gate?”
“That’s it. The T Bar C.” His father’s ranch. As a young man, he couldn’t leave it fast enough. He had returned from time to time but only for a quick visit. He hadn’t come back for the past year. Since Josiah Rodriguez died working for him, shame and guilt had kept him away from the ranch and Cedar Ridge.
But his cousin’s wedding had brought him back. He knew he couldn’t get out of that obligation. While here, he hoped to convince his mother to finally let go of the ranch. Sell it and move with him to Vancouver. After Josiah died on his job site, Noah had hung on to the business long enough to deal with the inquiries and inspections. Then he sold it. He currently had a line on a new business he wanted to start, a small trucking company. It would be a fresh start in a different business.
He knew his mother hoped he would come back to the ranch, take it over and keep the Cosgrove legacy going. That wasn’t happening. To him, the ranch had always been a symbol of relentless, backbreaking work, a demanding father who was never satisfied.
Cedar Ridge didn’t hold any special memories for him.
“That’s such an awesome place. I love it,” the little girl said excitedly.
“It is a nice place.” He was surprised to hear a faint note of melancholy in his voice as he looked at his childhood home through her eyes.
“So, can you help us out by driving us around?” Millie asked. “So we can get more money in our nest?”
He glanced Shauntelle’s way. He saw she wasn’t keen on the idea, but at the same time he didn’t feel right leaving her stranded here.
“Sure. I can help you out.”
“Well, what are we waiting for?” Millie said, shooting her mother an expectant look.
Shauntelle blew out a sigh of resignation. “I guess we don’t have much choice.”
“Just one thing, though,” Noah said. “I’d like to stop in and see my mother. Make sure she’s okay before we head out.”
“Of course,” Shauntelle said.
“So first off, let me know what you need from the car,” Noah said.
Shauntelle walked to the hatchback, yanked it open and pulled out one of the three coolers, indicating the other two with her chin. “I need all those, and there’s a carrier with muffins as well.”
Noah nodded and hefted one cooler out, set the second one on top and carried them both to his truck. “We can put them in the box or the back of the truck,” he said.
“Box is fine.”
“I’ll drive slow. That way you won’t have to worry about your baking getting squashed. Don’t want you to have to give anyone a discount.” He added a grin to show he was kidding, but she didn’t smile.
While he hadn’t been in the same grade as Shauntelle growing up, he knew enough about her. Knew that she had a keen sense of humor and was quick with a comeback.
But the weary-looking woman in front of him bore no resemblance to that fun, spunky girl. And he felt that he had contributed to the faint lines bracketing her cheeks and marring her forehead.
He