The Rancher's Twin Troubles. Laura Altom Marie

matters than the study of how his hat brim’s shadow darkened his eyes.

      “MOM,” DALLAS SAID THAT NIGHT, chopping an onion for her famous spaghetti sauce, “I swear that woman’s going to drive me off the deep end.”

      Georgina Buckhorn sighed. “How can you be intimidated by a scrap of a kindergarten teacher?”

      “Who said I was intimidated?” Dallas brought the knife down especially hard on the onion. The clap of metal hitting the wooden cutting board echoed in the big country kitchen. “She annoys me, that’s all.”

      “Because she speaks the truth and you don’t want to hear it?” Her back to him, she took pasta from an upper shelf. She was a tall woman made all the more imposing by the top knot she’d formed with her long silver hair. Once upon a time, before Dallas lost Bobbie Jo, his mother’s words had been gold. Now, Dallas resented her for getting into his parenting business. It wasn’t that they didn’t get along, but where the girls were concerned, they no longer shared the same values.

      She always nagged him about the twins needing more discipline, but to his way of thinking, wasn’t losing their mother enough? Bobbie Jo had died giving them life. Her last whispered words had been for him to put his love for her into their babies. By God, every day since, that was exactly what he’d done.

      Bonnie and Betsy were his world and no one—not his mom and certainly not their teacher—was going to tell him he was a bad parent when his life was dedicated to their happiness.

      “Dallas,” his mother said, dropping pasta into a pot of already boiling water on the industrial-size stove, “this house is big enough that we can generally keep to our own business, but this is one matter on which I refuse to bend. Sunday night, I caught Betsy drawing all over her bathroom mirror with lipstick. My brand-new Chanel lipstick I bought last time we were in Tulsa. When I asked her to help clean the mess, she crossed her arms, raised her chin and flat out told me, ‘no.’ Now, does that sound reasonable to you?”

      After dumping diced onions into a pan filled with Italian sausage, he took the cutting board and knife to the sink, running them both under water.

      “Ignore me all you want, but deep down, you know I’m right.” Behind him, her hand on his shoulder, she added, “A large part of being a good parent is sometimes being the bad guy. You have to set boundaries. Just like your father and I did with you and your brothers.”

      “That’s different. We were all hell on horseback.”

      She snorted. “Like your girls are any different because they’re only riding the ponies you gave them for Christmas?”

      “They love those cuties.” He bristled. “Ponies topped the twins’ Santa lists.”

      “Doesn’t make it right.” She stirred the meat and onions that’d started to sizzle above a gas flame. “Clint Eastwood topped my wish list, but you don’t see me out gallivanting, do you?”

      “You’re impossible.” His back turned, he took his work coat from the peg mounted alongside the back door. “I’m going to check the cattle.”

      “Mark my words, Dallas Buckhorn, you might temporarily hide from this situation, but sooner or later you have to deal with your rambunctious girls.”

      “GOT IT! AND IT ONLY TOOK ten strokes.” Friday evening, on hole seven of Potter’s Putt-Putt, Natalie performed a little dance that revealed she may have had one too many beers. It was the monthly ladies’ night and judging by the slew of high scores, none of the foursome would give the LPGA a run for their money any time soon.

      First grade teacher, Shelby Foster, pushed the counselor aside. “Let me show you how a professional does it…”

      “Professional what?” Cami Vettle, the school secretary teased in a raunchy tone.

      For the first time in what felt like weeks, Josie truly laughed and it felt not only good, but long overdue. Until just now, she hadn’t realized how much stress she’d been under. She’d always loved her job. As a general rule, kindergarteners were a lovable, trouble-free bunch. Oh, sure, she’d dealt with plenty of mischief, but nothing as regular and confounding as the stunts of Betsy and Bonnie Buckhorn.

      “You all right?” Natalie asked while waiting for the other women to take their turns.

      “Sure,” Josie said, swirling her plastic cup of beer. “Why wouldn’t I be?” White lights decorated the course’s trees. With temperatures in the seventies, it felt as if fall had finally arrived. Shrieks of laughter mingled with top-forty music blaring from loudspeakers. The mouthwatering scent of the snack bar’s trademark barbecue normally would have her stomach growling. Lately, though, she’d been so consumed with dreaming up a delicate way to manage the twins that she forgot to eat.

      “You seem awfully quiet. Man trouble?” Tipsy, Natalie leaned on Josie’s shoulder. Beer mingled with her pretty floral perfume, again causing Josie’s lips to curve into a smile.

      “Oh, sure. As you full well know, I haven’t been with a man since Lyle, and he was a disaster.”

      “Only because you didn’t put an ounce of effort into the relationship. It’s been four years since Hugh died. He wouldn’t want you to be lonely.”

      Then why had he left her?

      “Who said I am?” Josie swigged her beer. “And who are you to talk? When’s the last time you went on a date?”

      “Two weeks ago, thank you very much.”

      “Your turn,” Cami said to Josie, writing down her score. “What are you two gossiping about?”

      “Nat, here, says she had a date.” Josie centered the ball on the putting mat before giving it a swat. It landed between a giant plaster frog and a rubber lily pad. “You believe her?”

      “Absolutely. It was with the UPS man. I witnessed him asking her in the front office.”

      “Impressive…” Josie’s shot landed her ball ten feet from the moat’s dragon. Sighing, she stepped over a second lily pad to set up for stroke three.

      “Kind of like Betsy and Bonnie’s dad. Whew.” Cheeks flushed, Cami fanned herself with the scorecard. “He’s gorgeous.”

      “Don’t look now, but he’s also headed this way…” Natalie downed the rest of her beer.

      Upon meeting Dallas’s penetrating stare, Josie hit her ball all the way to Hansel and Gretel’s cottage on hole fourteen!

      Chapter Two

      “Ladies…” Dallas tipped his hat to Bonnie and Betsy’s teacher and three other women he’d seen around the girls’ school. “Nice night to be on the links.”

      The tall brunette laughed at his joke.

      “Miss Griffin?” He was intrigued by the notion that she found it necessary to hide behind a pine.

      “Please,” she mumbled, ducking out from behind a particularly full bough to extend her hand, “outside of school you can call me Josie.”

      When their fingers touched, he was unprepared for the breeze of awareness whispering through him. It’d been so long since he’d noticed any woman beyond casual conversation that he abruptly released her. Just as hastily broke their stare. Had she felt that shift from the ordinary, too?

      “Hi, Miss Griffin!” The twins and three of their more giggly friends danced around him.

      “H-hi, girls,” their teacher said. Had she always been so hot? Maybe it was the course’s dim lighting, but her complexion glowed as pretty as his mama’s Sunday pearls. Her hair hung long and wild, and she wore the hell out of a pair of faded jeans and a University of Oklahoma sweatshirt. Red cowboy boots peeked out from beneath her hems. “You all having a party?”

      Bonnie nodded. “Daddy’s letting us have