Montana Mistletoe. Roxanne Rustand

scared and lost and innocent, but they’d also made him face the biggest fear in his life, and he hadn’t had a good night’s sleep since they arrived.

      He knew all too well how impetuous little ones could be. How tragedies could strike in an instant.

      And how devastating it was when the fault was his.

      * * *

      Eager to get dinner started, Abby sorted through the kitchen cupboards and walk-in pantry, then mentally cataloged the contents of the refrigerator. She’d already gone through the chest freezer in the basement and found plenty of beef—which was no surprise on a cattle ranch.

      Betty hadn’t emerged from her long nap yet. And Jess had been outside in the barns all afternoon, only popping in to say he was heading out to pick up the twins.

      The days were shorter now, in these first few days of November, and daylight was already fading, sending long shadows across the kitchen floor. She turned on the lights, then glanced at the clock on the stove.

      She pulled a roast from the bottom freezer drawer and put it in the fridge for the following night, then tossed a couple pounds of ground beef into the microwave on Defrost.

      She suddenly heard footsteps come up the stairs to the back porch and she turned to find Jess ushering the twins though the door.

      She offered them a warm smile. “I’m so happy to see you girls again. How was school today?”

      They silently stamped the snow from their feet and shrugged off their coats, hanging them up on a set of lower pegs in the entryway, and left their hats and mittens on a shelf above the pegs. Neither of them glanced her way.

      “Hmm. I wonder if I have your names right.” She looked at Bella and playfully tilted her head. “You must be...Sophie.”

      Instead of smiling, Bella turned away.

      “And...you must be Bella,” she said to Sophie. “Am I right?”

      With an almost imperceptible shake of her head, Sophie pulled off her sodden tennis shoes and trudged across the floor, her socks leaving a trail of wet footprints. Bella followed her, giving Abby a wide berth.

      “Go put on dry socks or your slippers, Sophie,” Jess called after her as he hung up his own coat. “I’m afraid they were hoping their mom had arrived, after I told them someone new was here at the ranch.”

      Abby could only imagine how hard it must have been for them to find their mother wasn’t here after all. “I’m afraid I’m an awfully big letdown.”

      “They’ll come around. Suppers have been really basic since Betty fell, so I’m sure they’ll be happy to see something besides spaghetti, hamburgers and frozen dinners.”

      Abby mentally readjusted her plans for dinner from spaghetti to meatloaf and baked potatoes, and lowered her voice. “Is there any chance you could adopt the twins?”

      “From what I’ve read on the internet, they could be considered abandoned after no personal contact with their mother for six months. Now it’s been almost a year.”

      “Is that what you’d like to do?”

      Jess sighed. “I just want what’s best for them and for Lindsey—if only I knew what that was. If she’s still making a lot of bad decisions, they’re better off with me. But what if she’s in trouble somewhere? Injured? I want to help her, not break her heart.”

      “It’s so ironic,” Abby said wistfully. “You’ve taken in these sweet girls, and care so much for them. I wanted kids but my husband didn’t. Alan was adamantly against it.”

      She’d always loved kids. They were the reason she’d gone into teaching, and she’d never regretted it. But years of longing for a child of her own had left a scarred, empty place in her heart that had grown with every passing year.

      At the sound of small footsteps approaching, Abby turned toward the sound of a child coming through the arched doorway into the kitchen.

      Bella and Sophie paused in the entryway, as if hesitating about what to say.

      “Can we see Gramma now?” Belle said finally. “We’ll be real good. Promise.”

      He glanced at the clock. “You can go down and peek in her room. If she’s awakened from her nap, you can ask if you can come in. Okay? But don’t wake her up.”

      The girls scampered away. “Gramma! You’re home,” they shouted as they ran down the hall.

      Abby stifled a low laugh. “So much for Grandma’s nap.”

      “I’d better get down there to referee.” He glanced around the kitchen, taking in the spotless countertops and the floor Abby had swept and mopped while he was gone picking up the girls. “I’ll always appreciate anything you do while you’re here, but remember that what I care about most are the twins and Betty. They are my number one priority. Always.” A flash of worry—or was it fear?—darted across his expression. “It takes only a blink of an eye for an accident to happen.”

      Why was he so worried? But maybe this was what it was like, when you were a parent with kids who could move almost fast as you could.

      Betty would be good company and no problem at all; Abby was sure of that—unless the feisty lady started trying to do too much and Abby had to gently rein her in. But the girls were a different story.

      She’d seen their wariness and resentment toward her and glimpsed the pain in their eyes. Those wounds were deep.

      Now she knew there were just three things she needed to accomplish here. She needed to reconnect with her father and make sure he was all right. Bella and Sophie were going to feel happy and secure by the time she left.

      And she needed to guard her heart against the cascade of memories and old dreams that kept tumbling into her thoughts. Of Jess, this ranch and all that might have been.

      * * *

      By nine o’clock that night, Abby had finished loading the dishwasher, wiped down the counters and leaned one hip against the stove to survey the kitchen.

      The day could have been worse, though not by much. The twins had refused to touch the meatloaf, baked potatoes and glazed carrots she’d cooked. They’d even refused the cherry pie and ice cream, despite Betty’s urging and the fact that Jess had wolfed down everything on his plate and asked for seconds.

      They’d finally accepted the sandwiches Betty made before she limped back to her bedroom to turn in early.

      And bath time wasn’t a success either. They refused Abby’s help entirely and Betty obviously couldn’t kneel by the tub to help them. So Abby finally just sat by the tub, gave them washcloths and bars of soap, and wrapped each of them in fluffy towels when they were done.

      Right now, Jess was in their room reading them bedtime stories, probably wishing he hadn’t bothered hiring her.

      She turned at the sound of heavy footsteps that could only be Jess’s. She took in the weary set of his shoulders and his jaw darkened by a five o’clock shadow as he entered the kitchen and headed for the coffeepot. “Are they all tucked in?”

      He nodded. “I had a talk with them. They seem to understand that we need you here so I can get back to work and so Betty can get better.”

      As kindergartners, they were old enough to understand, though she wasn’t going to expect full cooperation just yet. Not after the scowls and pouts she’d seen today. “We’ll be fine. Promise.”

      At his doubtful expression, she smothered a laugh. “You forget—I worked as a substitute teacher for years. Often in middle schools, and we all know how tough kids that age can be with a sub. Do you remember those days?”

      A flicker of a smile briefly touched his lean face, deepening the dimple in one cheek. Once upon a time, that smile had made her stomach flutter. It still hadn’t lost its power.

      He