Texas Christmas Twins. Deb Kastner
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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.”
She had no way of knowing that, nor did she have reason to trust him, and yet she was, thankfully, in his corner.
“Ask him what he does with the rest of his time here