Texas Christmas Twins. Deb Kastner
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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?
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