The Rancher's Christmas Proposal. Sherri Shackelford

than average, Shane quickly spotted Owen pestering Miss Spencer once more. His rush of relief quickly morphed into anger. There was no way Mrs. Lund had seen Owen from this distance. For all she knew, he’d wandered onto the tracks.

      Singularly unrepentant, she crossed her arms over her chest. “Proper discipline is what the boy needs, not coddling. I hope these sorts of antics won’t be commonplace with the children.”

      Her voice grated on Shane’s nerves. The woman had all the warmth of a root cellar in winter, but she was also the twin’s closest kin.

      “They’ve been cooped up,” he replied shortly. “They’re bound to wander.”

      He and Abby had been childhood sweethearts. They’d paired up mostly because their ages matched and they were always seated together in the one-room schoolhouse. At seventeen, Abby had pressured him for an engagement. He’d thought them too young and he was already overwhelmed with his own responsibilities. His father had abandoned the family three years before, and Shane had taken over as the man of the house. Despite his best efforts to soften the blow, urging Abby to wait instead, his refusal had incensed her.

      They’d gradually lost touch after her parents had died and she’d moved away. Years later, she’d arrived at his ranch, pregnant and alone. Compelled by honor and loyalty, he’d thought he was doing the right thing by marrying her, hoping their past friendship might grow into something deeper. Except she’d never stopped loving the man who’d betrayed her.

      Mrs. Lund harrumphed, and her gaze shifted. “Have you made the arrangements with the bank?”

      His jaw worked. “I’ll finish up this morning.”

      That figured. Abby’s older sister may have lost sight of Owen, but she hadn’t lost sight of the money he’d offered for the twins’ care.

      How had such a simple arrangement become this complicated? Ten years older than Abby, her sister had been married and gone by the time he and Abby had started school together. After Abby’s death, their correspondence had been brief, but Mrs. Lund had been well aware of her sister’s wishes and hadn’t balked. He’d put off the inevitable for as long as he could, but the time had finally arrived.

      As though sensing his tension, Alyce squeezed her small hands around his neck. He absently rubbed her back in soothing circles.

      “Everything will be fine,” he said, though his blood simmered. He turned toward Mrs. Lund and, with an effort born of sheer will, kept his tone calm. “It’s been hard on them, losing Abby. They need patience.”

      “Fine talk coming from you,” she snapped. “A man foisting off his children as though they were so much chattel.”

      “You know what Abby wanted,” he said quietly. “The ranch is isolated. If anything happened over the winter...”

      “Or perhaps my sister regretted her choice of a husband.”

      Her words slashed at his conscience. “We can finish this discussion later.”

      As though his day couldn’t get any worse, he locked gazes with a pair of sparkling blue eyes. A flush crept up his neck. He didn’t know how much Miss Spencer had heard, but it was probably too much.

      “We meet again, Mr. McCoy.” Despite her casual words, Miss Spencer clenched her hands before her stomach, her knuckles white. “I believe this little fellow belongs to you.”

      Assuming his most stern expression, Shane switched Alyce to his opposite shoulder and reached down. “Owen, that’s twice today.”

      The boy grinned, not at all sorry. Shane raised his eyebrows. Leave it to Owen to find the prettiest girl at the depot. The child was a positive flirt.

      Miss Spencer’s gaze darted around the platform. “I believe Owen was chasing his ball and became a little lost.”

      The tight coil he kept around his emotions eased a notch. Owen’s champion was smartly dressed in a traveling suit the color of a ripe peach. The cheerful hue brought out the luster in her flaxen hair and the flecks of gold in her sharp blue eyes. Though clearly nervous about something or someone, she exuded an air of confidence and grace.

      Her presence felt out of place on the crowded platform. As though she belonged in a private parlor—sipping tea and waiting for her Pullman car. She was the sort of woman Abby had always admired. The rope around his emotions tightened once more. The sort of woman who’d find him boring and suffocating, no doubt, just as Abby had.

      “Thank you,” he said. “For returning Owen. Again.”

      “My pleasure.”

      Her voice had a husky quality that stirred long-dormant yearnings. Though she kept a calm visage, there was something troubled about the way Miss Spencer kept glancing over her shoulder. The more time he spent with her, the more he realized there was an air of mystery surrounding his lovely Good Samaritan. That ambiguity made her all the more alluring, and he fought against his curiosity. Mysteries had a way of ending badly.

      While Shane struggled for a suitable reply, Owen tossed the ball toward Mrs. Lund.

      She squeaked and dodged sideways, then snatched the boy’s shirt and cocked back her arm. “You did that on purpose, you little—”

      “No!” Shane shouted helplessly. With Alyce in his arms, he struggled to reach Owen.

      Miss Spencer threw herself before the boy and grasped Mrs. Lund’s wrist.

      Gratitude rushed through him.

      Mrs. Lund’s face suffused with color. “Get your hands off of me!”

      “I will not stand by and watch you hit a child,” Miss Spencer declared.

      Sensing the trouble he’d caused, Owen whimpered behind her skirts.

      “I wasn’t going to harm the boy.” Mrs. Lund sniffed. “Not that it’s any business of yours. A woman, traveling alone. You’re no better than you should be.”

      Shane moved between the two combatants. “I won’t have you insulting Miss Spencer.”

      “And I won’t have this...this person questioning my intentions.”

      “What were your intentions?” he challenged.

      His sister-in-law gasped. “How dare you question me!”

      Now what? It sure looked as if Mrs. Lund was getting ready to haul off and wallop the boy. And if that was the case, then her actions changed everything. No matter how desperate, he wasn’t leaving the children with an abusive guardian. They might not be his children by blood, but he loved them all the same, and he was honor bound to ensure they were well cared for, no matter what Abby’s wishes.

      Mrs. Lund’s mouth worked, and after several tense seconds, she gathered herself. “We had an agreement. There’s no need to fuss.”

      Shane rubbed his forehead. Impossible situations. He had a singular talent for landing in impossible situations. With winter coming, he’d lose the help he hired from town. The weather isolated the ranch, sometimes for weeks. He’d kept Abby’s secret about the babies—everyone assumed he was their father—and he was bound to abide by her request concerning the children’s care. Yet he questioned her sister’s intentions.

      People were always hiding their true motivations. Abby had claimed she still loved him, even though she was pregnant with another man’s children. Mrs. Lund had claimed she wanted to raise the twins, when clearly she was more interested in the money. Even he was keeping secrets—Abby’s secrets. Of the three of them, only Miss Spencer had no reason for duplicity.

      As though only just deciphering the situation, Miss Spencer looked between the two of them. “You’re leaving the children with her?”

      Mrs. Lund tossed her head. “After seeing how he manages them, I can understand Abby’s insistence that I raise the children.