Her Twins' Cowboy Dad. Patricia Johns

Cover

       Back Cover Text

       About the Author

       Booklist

       Title Page

       Copyright

       Introduction

       Dear Reader

       Bible Verse

       Dedication

       Chapter One

       Chapter Two

       Chapter Three

       Chapter Four

       Chapter Five

       Chapter Six

       Chapter Seven

       Chapter Eight

       Chapter Nine

       Chapter Ten

       Chapter Eleven

       Chapter Twelve

       Chapter Thirteen

       Chapter Fourteen

       Chapter Fifteen

       Epilogue

       Extract

       About the Publisher

       Chapter One

      Colt Hardin stood by a window on the second floor of an office building in downtown Creekside, Montana, cowboy hat under one arm, trying to calm his thoughts as he looked out over the street. The building itself was only three stories, but it was the highest one in that little ranching town. A few pickup trucks slowed to a stop at the streetlight, windows rolled down to let in the warm July breeze. One of the trucks had an old dog in the back, trotting back and forth along the truck bed. The light changed to green, and the trucks rolled forward again. Colt preferred trails and fields, horseback or the rattling old ranch truck. Town was just too busy for his liking.

      Colt tapped his hat against his thigh, attempting to quiet that jitter inside him. Uncle Beau passed away a few days ago, and he had been called to the lawyer’s office for the reading of the will. If Uncle Beau hadn’t changed anything, Colt was inheriting it all.

      Old Beau had been a complicated guy in life—a good rancher and a neighbor who could be counted on when weather went bad or times got tough. He was gruff, stubborn, often narrow-minded, but with a sensitive side that had surprised Colt more than once. But as kind as he could be to a neighbor, he was unmovable when it came to family. Once his mind was made up about someone, there was no changing it, and that character flaw had torn apart the family. It was only because those relationships were in tatters that Colt was set to inherit everything.

      Beau’s marriage to his aunt had shown him that marriage was difficult...and, it turned out, so was keeping any kind of functional relationship with a man’s kids. Josh was an only child—it shouldn’t have been that complicated. And Colt didn’t have his own father in his life, so Beau had been the closest he’d had to a dad. That wasn’t a sweet sentiment, either, because Beau was the main reason he’d been steering clear of getting married and starting a family of his own.

      A patter of little shoes came up the stairs, and Colt glanced over as two redheaded toddlers in matching floral-print dresses emerged into the hallway and immediately scampered in opposite directions. A slim woman with dark hair pulled into a messy bun at the back of her head appeared behind them and jogged after the squealing toddler who dashed down the hall, while the other little girl headed in his direction. The woman wore a pink sundress that fluttered behind her in a wave, and he couldn’t help but wonder how she’d catch both children.

      The little girls had flaming-red curls that bounced at the sides of their heads in matching pigtails... Some distant relative of Beau Marshall, perhaps? The Marshalls were known for their fiery red hair. Colt was related to Beau through Beau’s wife’s side of the family, so his hair was a dark brown that women made a point of telling him shone auburn in the sunlight.

      The woman scooped up the giggling girl and came back down the hall, a bag bouncing against one hip and the toddler secured on the other.

      “Michal, come back here...” the woman called to the toddler who’d dashed in his direction, and the tiny girl looked up at Colt for a moment, round brown gaze meeting his soberly. She took a step to the side to head around him and he matched her, eyeing her with a small smile. He could see the mischief in that little face.

      “Could you just head her off?” the woman asked, hoisting the other toddler a little higher in her arms as she approached. “She’s quick.”

      “I’ll try,” he said. The toddler swerved past him and he shot an arm out, scooping the youngster up as she let out a surprised squeak. She was as light as a barn cat, and those little legs gave a couple of kicks as he spun her around to face her mother, then handed her over.

      “Thanks.” The woman’s face broke into a smile as she gathered the second toddler in her arms. “I thought it was hard to carry around two car seats. I had no idea how bad it would be once they were walking.”

      “I can only imagine,” he said with a short laugh. “Michael—that’s an odd name for a girl.”

      “I liked it.” She gave him a tired smile. “It’s Biblical. David’s first wife.”

      “Oh, right.” Yeah, he vaguely remembered that. Not Michael, but Michal.

      She