The Rancher's Expectant Christmas. Karen Templeton

massage her lower back again—because her daughter’s favorite position involved ramming her skull into the spot right over Deanna’s tailbone—Josh’s gaze dropped to her stomach again, then away.

      “This must feel weird. Being back.”

      “You have no idea. Like I’m having a dream where I’m a kid again. Because so little has changed.”

      Josh gave her a funny look. “Did you expect it to be different?”

      “I’m not sure what I expected, truthfully.”

      “You’re not what I expected, either.” His eyes narrowed as he scrutinized her hair. “What’s up with that, anyway?”

      She laughed. “It was decided I needed to look—” she made air quotes “‘edgier’. As in, customers are more likely to buy contemporary art from someone who actually looks contemporary to the twenty-first century. So buh-bye long, blah brown hair, hello—”

      “Edgy.”

      “Yep. And this is not the pic Dad was showing Starlight. Trust me.”

      “Since you never sent him one of you looking like this.”

      “Oh, hell, no.”

      Josh crossed his arms. “So this is, what? A costume?”

      “It’s called dressing the part. And everybody does it. Seriously—if you rode into the rodeo ring in a business suit, would people take you seriously?”

      Grinning, Josh looked away. “Point taken.”

      Starfire’s breath warmed Deanna’s face when she reached up to stroke the mare’s nose again. “Gus said Dad had hospice come in, at the end,” she said quietly.

      “The very end,” Josh breathed out. “That last week or so. Gus was his main caregiver. The rest of us filled in when we could, of course. Or I should say, when Gus let us. Since according to him we never did things right.”

      Her jaw tight, Deanna looked back toward the house. “And as I said, Dad could have clued me in, anytime. Or let Gus do it.” Her mouth pulled tight. “I can tell how much it sucked for the old guy, caught between loyalty to my father and what he clearly felt he should’ve done.”

      “And obviously you were in no condition to be nursing someone—”

      “First off, between Gus and me, we would’ve managed. Secondly, also as I said, Dad didn’t know I was pregnant.” Her tenuous grasp on a good mood slipped away. “And this is a dumb conversation.”

      She felt Josh stiffen beside her. “Just like any conversation that gets too close to reality, right? Seriously, if there’s some kind of prize for avoiding a subject, you’d win hands down.”

      “And you might want to think about picking a fight with a pregnant woman.”

      “I think I can handle it. And have. And since I have absolutely nothing to lose here, I may as well say this—whatever’s going on with you, whatever kind of relationship you and your father had is none of my concern. I know that. But this keeping secrets crap is for the birds. Especially since your dad knew something was going on with you, even if he didn’t know what. And that was my concern, since I worked for the man.”

      Deanna gawked at him for several seconds before averting her eyes again. “That’s ridiculous.”

      “My concern?”

      “No. That you think he knew something—”

      “Because he told me, Dee. He was worried about you. I’m not making that up.”

      Annoyance surged through her. “If he was so worried about me, why didn’t he say something? Why didn’t he simply ask me?”

      “Oh, I don’t know—maybe because he knew you wouldn’t’ve told him, so what would’ve been the point? Because God forbid the two of you actually talk to each other. And you know what?” he said, pushing away from the fence. “You’re right, this is a dumb conversation. And I’ve had enough of those to last me a lifetime.”

      “Dammit, Josh—don’t be like this!”

      “Like what?” he said, a frown digging into his forehead. “Who I’ve always been? The dude you could count on to be straight with you? Fine. You don’t wanna talk, I can’t make you. But you’re not gonna shut me up, either.” He shrugged. “Just how it goes.”

      Then he stalked off, his boots thudding in the dirt, and Deanna sighed.

      This was going to be the longest two weeks in the history of the planet.

      * * *

      His toddler stepdaughter balanced on one hip, Josh’s twin, Levi, came up beside him in the ranch’s formal dining room, where the dark, highly polished table contrasted with the troweled plaster walls and beamed ceiling. But after probably half a century Josh wouldn’t have been surprised to find the table’s graceful feet had taken root in the pitted grout between the old handmade tiles. He remembered, because his brain was being a real sonuvabitch today, hiding in here with Deanna when they were little—really little, like before he’d even started school—sitting under the table and pointing out “pictures” they’d see in the uneven tiles—

      “You doing okay?” Levi asked, frowning at some unidentifiable finger food before picking one up and popping it into his mouth, anyway.

      “Sure,” Josh muttered, doing some frowning of his own at Deanna through the wide, arched doorway between the dining room and the vast great room where she sat on one of the leather sofas, Mom watchdogging beside her as people offered their condolences.

      His brother’s gaze followed Josh’s, but thankfully he kept his mouth shut. For the moment, anyway. Levi offered the toddler one of the...things, but with a vigorous shake of her dark curls and an emphatic, “No!” Risa shoved away his hand. So Levi ate it for her. As one did.

      “Nice service,” his brother said, like they were distant cousins who hadn’t seen each other in twenty years. Josh glowered; Levi shrugged. “Well, it was. Simple and to the point. Granville would’ve approved. Doncha think?”

      “Except he didn’t want a service at all. People making over him and stuff.”

      “Yeah, well, we don’t always get our druthers, do we? And if you stare any harder at Deanna somebody’s gonna melt.”

      “I’m not—”

      Levi snorted. Josh sighed. Levi snorted again.

      “You know, I do remember a few things from when we were kids. Like how you two were joined at the hip. Okay, bad choice of words,” he said when Josh glared at him again. “But you spent a lot more time with her than you did with any of us.”

      “Because you all were jerks?”

      “There is that.” The baby hugged his neck, yawned, and settled her head on his chest, giving Josh a sweet little smile before her dark eyes fluttered closed. Levi smoothed her thick hair away from his chin and said softly, “But I seem to recall you used to be pretty damn protective of her. I’m guessing that hasn’t changed.”

      Blowing out a breath, Josh picked up one of the whatever-they-weres and ate it. Except for the green chile—which found its way into 90 percent of the food around here, with red the other ten—his taste buds weren’t really cluing him in. “Everything’s changed, Leev,” he said, chewing. “Seriously—are you the same person you were at seventeen?”

      “No. Thank God. But I still love the same woman I did then,” he said with a glance at his still-very-new wife Val, who gave him a little wave. Softly smiling, Levi met Josh’s gaze again. “Only now we’re good together. When we were teenagers...” He shook his head. “Would’ve been a disaster.”

      “Which has nothing to do with anything.”

      “Do you even