Kitabı oku: «The Texas Ranger's Twins»
At the door of the bedroom, Dane stopped in his tracks
On his bed lay Suzy, her two little angels sleeping soundly beside her…drawing him in with their cherubic faces. Tingles ran over his arms. He allowed himself to give Suzy a thorough once-over.
What the hell was she doing in his room? On his bed?
Dane intended to tell Goldilocks when she awakened that his bed was not “just right” for her.
No. He couldn’t do that. There were three of her family and only one of him.
Dane realized no matter how he fought it, staying at the Morgan ranch for a year with Suzy Winterstone and her girls was not going to be his easiest assignment.
MILLS & BOON
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Dear Reader,
I love writing about home, hearth and family. The older my children get, the more home means to me. So I was delighted to be able to write THE MORGAN MEN series, which started with Texas Lullaby (June 2008) and now continues with The Texas Ranger’s Twins. Two more books follow—The Secret Agent’s Surprises (February 2009) and The Triplets’ Rodeo Man (March 2009). These are the stories of four brothers who learn that it’s never too late to go home again.
The Morgan men are estranged from a father they haven't spoken to in years. But the elder Mr. Morgan is particularly clever at luring his boys home—with the promise of an inheritance, and the hope they’ll become family men. Forgiveness is something the Morgan brothers will need to learn—and that’s never an easy lesson! What a wonderful gift it is to discover that forgiveness is possible, and the light of home is always burning.
The Texas Ranger’s Twins also kicks off a year-long celebration of heroes called MEN MADE IN AMERICA. Look for one book a month in 2009 that celebrates a hunky American male and his chosen profession!
Enjoy THE MORGAN MEN and MEN MADE IN AMERICA. See you next month!
Best wishes and much love,
Tina Leonard
Tina Leonard
The Texas Ranger’s Twins
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Tina Leonard is the bestselling author of over forty projects, including a popular thirteen-book miniseries for Harlequin American Romance. Her books have made the Waldenbooks, Ingram’s, and Nielsen Book-scan bestseller lists. Tina feels she has been blessed with a fertile imagination and quick typing skills, excellent editors, and a family who loves her career. Born on a military base, she lived in many states before eventually marrying the boy who did her crayon printing for her in the first grade. Tina believes happy endings are a wonderful part of a good life. You can visit her at www.tinaleonard.com.
Many thanks to my family,
who have always made my home a wonderful place
Contents
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
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter One
“Spare the rod, spoil the child”
—Josiah Morgan on his parenting philosophy of raising four boys on his own
Suzy Winterstone didn’t like the Morgan ranch. It was too big, too isolated and very scary at night. She walked inside the house, feeling chills that weren’t from the January wind. The front door actually creaked when someone opened it, just like in an old movie. She told herself the hinges were cold and hadn’t been used recently, but then she remembered Josiah Morgan had told her he had a farmhand who kept an eye on the property. So the hinges weren’t unused—they were simply spooky.
All of five-foot-five and weighing about a hundred and thirty pounds, Suzy wasn’t prepared to grapple with ghosts. According to Josiah’s letter, a live-in housekeeper was badly needed at the ranch. She needed a job, and she dreamed of employment that would allow her to watch over her children. Here was a golden opportunity to achieve her heart’s desire. Josiah Morgan said she’d be doing him a favor—he’d been very generous to her in the past and this job offer was no exception. Upon hearing that her boyfriend of three years had ended their relationship and had taken off for parts unknown, leaving her high and dry with twin babies, Josiah had set up a trust fund for the girls’ college expenses. She’d felt very fortunate, but Mr. Morgan was known for his generous acts in the town of Union Junction. Some people said the old man was crazy, but most people thought he was kind and grandfatherly, including Suzy.
Suzy had been working as a nurse at the hospital up until her maternity leave and was fortunate to have insurance. She could always go back to nursing, but creaking doors aside, this would be a wonderful place to work for one year. Josiah wanted it kept clean, and he wanted it decorated for every holiday, as if a family lived there. Knowing she had sewing skills, he wanted new drapes made for the house, for which he’d pay her extra. The fabrics he’d chosen were stored somewhere in this cavernous dwelling, but she could select other fabric if she wished—as long as she made the house what Mr. Morgan called “gracious living suitable for grandchildren.”
Suzy walked into a large room with a fireplace, noting the window casements were about eighteen feet high. She went up the stairs, peeking into the cold bedrooms. Lack of human warmth chilled the house, and she could understand why Josiah felt it would be better to have her family living in the house in his absence.
She decided to take the job—and first thing tomorrow, she was oiling the front door.
She was still preoccupied with those squeaky hinges when she stepped into the last room on the back hall. Like the others, it was dark and cold. Josiah had the heat in the house turned low, and for January, she would want it warmer for her babies. This back room might be suitable for her—she could make a nursery out of the room across the hall.
She screamed as something grabbed her and tossed her onto a bed. Still shrieking, she scrambled away, only to be caught in strong hands as a light flipped on.
The most handsome man she’d ever seen imprisoned her against his body. His dark eyes gleamed like a pirate’s, saucily admiring his prey.
“What have we here?” he asked, pausing to allow for her answer, yet she sensed he didn’t really expect or want one. Fear charged to a panicky boil inside her. “A very beautiful, very bad burglar?”
“I would never steal anything!”
He gave her a long perusal, raking her from her head to her toes and back up again. She gave him credit for not staring at her breasts, but he certainly made her feel as if he’d undressed her. She couldn’t hold back a shiver.
“A trespasser, then.” He slowly smiled. “I’ll have to call the local police. Lucky for you I know some of the fellows here.” He held her a little tighter, his wolflike gaze locked on her face.
He was toying with her. Anger-charged adrenaline made her brave; she jerked her arm free from his grasp. “I’m the new housekeeper. And since Mr. Morgan said no one would be here but me and my family, I’m pretty certain you’re the trespasser and I’ll be the one calling the police.”
The handsome man frowned. “Well, we have a problem. I’m supposed to be living here alone, or possibly with any of my brothers, if they show up. There was never anything said about a female. I’m Josiah Morgan’s third son, Dane Morgan. Who the hell are you?”
She lifted her chin. “My name is Suzy Winterstone. Your father hired me.”
She could swear he backed a foot away from her.
“Suzy Winterstone?”
She nodded. “Yes.” The fact that he seemed to know her name didn’t appear to be a good thing.
“Pop hired you to be a housekeeper?” he demanded. “Here?”
She gave him a confident glare. “Yes, he did.”
He stared at her for a minute and the overriding emotion she saw in those dark eyes was now anger. He frightened her; he looked like the sort of man who might not play by the rules of common decency, capable of tossing her out on the porch to soothe his temper.
“Damn Pop,” he finally growled. “Just when I hoped he might be mellowing, he proves himself to be the blue ribbon–winning jackass of all time.”
“Mr. Morgan has been very good to me and my family—”
He pulled her to him, kissing her hard, tasting her unrelentingly before he pushed her away. “I am not my father. If you choose to accept the position, be aware you’ll be living here with me. And I am not an easy man to live with.”
She forced herself not to capitulate just because his kiss had unnerved her. “I guess that’s supposed to scare me. You’re obviously hoping to discourage me from taking this job. I hate to dash your hopes, but Mr. Morgan wants me here, and I need the job. To be honest, I’m less afraid of you being on the premises than my babies and me being here alone.” Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome was just going to have to put up with her presence.
“Oh, yes, the babies. The pink-ribboned treasures intended to enhance my father’s golden years.”
“Is there a problem with that?” She looked him over, admitting to herself that he certainly was sexy, but sexy wasn’t always a worthy trait in a man. “You seem to have an aversion to children, so I’m not sure why it would bother you if your father has an interest in my babies.”
He shook his head, crossed his arms over his admirably broad chest. “You’re forewarned that nothing that happens here between you and me will ever entail an altar or a wedding ring.”
She shook her head. “You can bet your boots on that, mister. This house is big enough for the both of us, and we need never see each other. I expect wood brought in for the fireplaces—I’ve counted four—and I don’t want muddy footprints or beer cans left about. Mr. Morgan didn’t say anything about me playing house with a man or waiting on anyone hand and foot, and I will inform him of the parameters we are agreeing upon.”
“I haven’t agreed to anything.”
She backed to the door before he could pounce again. Not that it had been an entirely unpleasant experience—in fact, Dane was a pretty good kisser—but her blood was still boiling like crazy at being jumped by the Adonis in the doorway. She’d never been much for hide-and-seek, so it was best to put this awkward relationship on professional footing. “You’ll have to take any grievance you might have with me up with my employer.”
“And no doubt Pop would side with little bitty Miss Babymaker.” He stepped one foot toward her, laughed when she fled down the hall.
“Jerk,” she murmured as she went down the stairs, “we’ll see how hard he laughs when I short-sheet his bed and sprinkle rice in it.”
If the arrogant swine thought he was going to chase her out of a well-paying job and a chance to stay home with her children, he’d find himself greatly mistaken. Some men were just too hunky for their own good—clearly Dane was suffering from too much ego.
She would set him straight.
“And we’ll draw straws for bedrooms!” Suzy called up the stairs, just to assert herself more fully.
She heard his laughter echo down the hall.
Chapter Two
“So Suzy Winterstone is cute,” Gabriel Morgan said to his older brother, Dane, who was visiting him and his wife, Laura, at their comfortable house. Dane had to admit, Gabriel had adapted well to living in this small domain with his growing family. But still, that just meant the youngest of all the Morgan boys had fallen under Josiah’s thumb.
Dane would not be doing the same. “She’s much more attractive than I would’ve imagined. I suppose I have to give Pop points for good taste in women.” He sighed, heavily put-upon. “However, she has a bit of a mouth on her.” A mouth he’d kissed, and would love to kiss again. He liked blondes, especially round, sunny ones like Suzy.
He shouldn’t have done it.
Dane heard Laura laugh in the kitchen as she caught his remark. Her children—his niece and nephew—were baking sugar cookies with their mother. It was a nice way to take the edge off a cold day, and his stomach rumbled at the aroma. He sure hoped he’d be offered one of the treats.
“What kind of mouth?” Laura asked, setting a glass of milk in front of him. His hopes for being included in the cookie-tasting rose exponentially. “Pink and tempting?” she teased.
“I meant she talks a lot,” he said with a mock growl, knowing his sister-in-law was giving him grief. Still, he wasn’t going to admit to kissing Suzy—he’d never live it down since he’d protested his father’s incessant matchmaking from the start. “She doesn’t shut up.”
“Hmm,” Laura said, “how much could she have said in such a short amount of time? Didn’t you say you only talked for about five minutes?”
“And that was plenty. During that time she set rules, gave commands and pretty much tried to show me who was going to be boss.” He looked hopefully toward the kitchen, wondering if that confession had been enough to earn him a cookie.
Seeing his eager glance, Laura laughed. Gabriel chuckled.
“Penny, will you please bring your uncle Dane and your dad that platter of cookies?” Laura said. “Suzy simply sounds organized to me, Dane.”
“Like someone in law enforcement, and I’ve had my fill of people like that.” Dane took the platter from Penny gratefully. “Very pretty. How many am I allowed?” he asked Penny.
“Only two if you don’t want to spoil your supper.” Penny was nearly five years old now and wise to the house rules.
“Two?” he asked, looking at Penny with his best uncle smile. “But I don’t think I’m going to be getting any supper.”
“That’s because you didn’t play your cards right with your housekeeper.” Gabriel took the platter, moved two cookies to Dane’s plate, three to his own, and handed the tray back to Penny. “Please put temptation out of Uncle Dane’s way, honey.”
She smiled at Gabriel and took the plate back to the kitchen. Her little brother, Perrin, followed, anxious for his own treat.
“How come you get three?” Dane asked. “Not that I’m trying to be ungrateful or anything, but I am older than you.”
“Because I’m in good with the women of my house.” Gabriel grinned. “I get extra sweets.”
“Great.” Dane bit the head off the sugary reindeer and closed his eyes. “She sings, Gabriel, all the time.”
“Bro, she’s only lived there since this morning.”
“But it’s nonstop. She sings to the children. The children sing back, in those little nonsense voices, and then Suzy praises them, so proud of their efforts. The noise level is pretty constant.”
Laura laughed again. He considered the lightly falling snow outside, and the gray skies—both signs the temperature would be dropping. “I can’t stay long. There’s wood to bring in for all four fireplaces, among other manly chores I’ve been assigned.”
Gabriel raised his brows. “Expecting a deep freeze?”
Dane sighed. “It’s just not peaceful and quiet there like I imagined it would be. Like you have here. I thought I’d be out at Pop’s alone, at least until you or Pete or Jack showed up.”
“I got my million dollars,” Gabriel confessed. “I won’t be coming, bro. You’re on your own at the Morgan ranch with your trio of singing females.”
Dane stared at him. “When did that happen?”
“Dad gave me my money before he went back to France.”
“Because you sold out,” Dane whispered, with a careful glance at Laura. “Wedding bells coaxed Pop to give in on the part about you having to live at the ranch for one year to get your money?”
Gabriel shook his head. “Nope. He just felt that I’d proven myself.”
“Proven yourself?” Dane glanced around the small, clean home. “You’re living in pretty tall cotton, Gabriel. Can’t see that your life is all that hard.”
Gabriel shook his head. “You don’t get it.”
Dane didn’t think it was fair that Gabriel had been let off the hook. “Sucking up to Pop shouldn’t be part of the deal.”
“Why?” Gabriel looked at him. “All Dad wants is family harmony.”
“And grandchildren!” Dane tried to sound horrified and maybe even accusative—Gabriel had definitely sold out, the weasel—but looking at Laura’s gently rounded stomach made it a bit hard to be completely indignant.
The fact was, Gabriel had done what Dane, Pete and Jack didn’t want to do. Jack would never make up with Pop, not after Pop kicked him out for luring his too-young brothers to the rodeo all those years ago. Dane and Pete still harbored enough bad feelings to fill a valley. Still, he couldn’t fault Gabriel. “Never mind,” Dane said, morosely finishing off his cookies. “The baby always has it the easiest.”
He brushed off the crumbs and stood to leave. Laura handed him a lace napkin full of cookies to take with him. He headed to the door, glanced around at Gabriel and his family and the life he’d chosen. Then he tipped his hat to Laura, kissed both the children, thanked them for sharing their delicious cookies, and braced himself for the cold outside.
It was nothing, he knew, like the cold he was going to get at the ranch. He only had three hundred sixty-four more days to go. It wasn’t a lifetime, something he’d already felt he’d lived.
He’d retired from the Texas Rangers following years of service. After enlisting in the military—just to get away from Pop—Dane had gotten his college degree, then moved on. He went into the police academy, becoming a top recruit. With his competitive nature, he’d pushed himself hard enough to make it into the Rangers.
And then, at twenty-eight, he’d burned out. He’d seen the worst in people while on the job, but always felt he had his friends to fall back on, no matter what. The final straw was his best friend talking him out of his life savings. Dane realized he wasn’t as much of a tough guy as he thought he was, and began to doubt his ability to see the good in people.
Suzy seemed good, but she sure had dug her way into an old man’s life with ease. Pop was supposed to be a tough guy, too.
Maybe Morgans were just easy marks for a sad story. He’d find out in the next year of hell with the rulemaking Miss Winterstone.
He got into his truck, carefully placing the cookies on the seat next to his so they wouldn’t break. On the other hand, there was something to be said for sucking up, he decided. Yet, he wasn’t sure he could survive three hundred sixty-four more days in a house with a woman he’d kissed, since he frequently found himself wondering about kissing her again.
He’d always been a bit of a rebel, something that irked Pop no end. The practically neon sign the little mother was wearing that said No Trespassing made him definitely want to jump the fence.
But knowing Pop would be rewarded for his manipulative ways, Dane vowed to give up trespassing, at least where Suzy was concerned. He’d refused to even look at the babies this morning—he knew that if he wasn’t careful, he could get sucked into a life just like Gabriel’s.
It was all about the children, and Dane understood the game.
SUZY PUT HER TWO TODDLERS down for a nap, then lay beside them, rubbing their backs as they snuggled into the bed comforter. She’d chosen the large back bedroom for herself and the children. It was big enough for them to sleep in the same room with her. That way, if she needed to get up in the night to check on them, she wouldn’t risk running into Mr. Loves-the-Dark Ranger. She didn’t trust him, not one bit. He’d probably jump out and grab her again just for the pleasure of hearing her yelp. And he’d made it obvious this morning that he didn’t want her there—he hadn’t spoken a word to her. Not even a polite good morning. So she’d sung to keep the frosty awkwardness in check.
“Fine by me,” she told the girls. “It’s better when he’s not around being pigheaded.”
The babies slept on without heeding her comment. She’d named the eighteen-month-old girls Nicole and Sandra after her mother. For the hundredth time, she thought about calling her mother, then decided it wouldn’t be a good idea. Her mother, who lived in Fort Wylie, had told Suzy in no uncertain terms that being pregnant and unmarried was a disgrace. Her mother and father were scions of Fort Wylie and reputation mattered to them. Appearances were important.
Suzy’s appearance was one of loose living, her mother had said, and they hadn’t spoken since. She’d never visited the hospital to see the newborns. It killed Suzy, broke her heart, but it was her mother’s right to feel as she did. “I wasn’t delighted when your father packed up, either,” she murmured to her daughters. “I didn’t foresee Frank being so afraid of responsibility.”
He’d liked her well enough for her family’s money—but when he’d realized that the Winterstones were, well, wintry about their new grandchildren, cutting off even Suzy’s trust fund she would have received at age thirty, well, Frank had disappeared like a puff of dust under a vacuum cleaner.
“Speaking of vacuums,” she said, closing her eyes, “just as soon as we finish our beauty rest, girls, we need to lug that monstrous canister up here and vacuum all the rooms thoroughly. Don’t think it’s been done in thirty years.”
She hadn’t planned on napping, but the wind was howling outside, the snow sugaring the ground, and at the moment, she felt so blessed lying on the bed with her children that she drifted off to sleep.
DANE WALKED IN WITH A LOAD of firewood, and remembering Suzy’s caution about dirtying up the floors, swept off the snow and ice as best he could from the logs and his boots. Last thing he wanted was a further discourse on his cleanliness. He carried the wood upstairs. There were two fireplaces up, plus two downstairs. He’d take care of the upper level fireplaces first, particularly in his room. It was a great night for a nice, cozy fire in the hearth in Pop’s bedroom, which he had decided to commandeer for himself as the only son in residence.
He deserved some of the finer things in life. One, for living in this godforsaken backwater and, two, for having Suzy and her tiny crew cast upon him.
At the door of the bedroom, he stopped in his tracks. On his bed lay Suzy, her two little angels sleeping soundly beside her. Well, they weren’t angels, they were more like time bombs, he reminded himself, backing into the hallway. Set to explode his world, drawing him in with their cherubic faces. Tingles ran over his arms. He allowed himself to give Suzy a thorough, yet lightning-fast once-over, avoiding the pink-wrapped dolls beside her.
“Holy smokes, that was close.” He went down the hall, placed the firewood in the stacker in the smaller bedroom. What the hell was she doing in his room? On his bed? She couldn’t stay there, that was for certain. Somehow he was going to have to explain to her that she just couldn’t fall asleep on the job, cushy employment though it was, in the first available reclining apparatus she came upon. His bed should be his domain—and anyway, hadn’t she already read him the riot act about how she was never stepping in his room?
His heart thundered in his chest. Pop stayed in France almost year-round, giving the boys a lot of time to gnash their teeth over his wily proposal. Dane was proud that he’d been wilier. Pop believed that money would buy love, like castles in France and sandboxes in the Caribbean, but Dane knew money and love were not always good bed partners.
Dane intended to tell Goldilocks when she awakened that his bed was not “just right” for her. She could just stick that in her proverbial little pipe and move into a smaller, less-appointed chamber.
No. Sighing, he knew he wouldn’t do that. There were three of her family and only one of him. Besides, he could be a gentleman if it was absolutely required, and in Suzy’s case, it probably was. Besides, he didn’t actually need the gold-outfitted bidet and tub Pop had in his master bath; he didn’t need the slipper sofa by the hearth, nor the lush rugs underfoot surrounding the massive canopied bed. One of the other starker, less decked-out rooms would be fine for him—like this one.
Restlessly he rose to light a fire in the small fireplace. The tinder caught slowly, the cold, damp logs reluctant to take the heat.
He realized that no matter how much he fought it, staying on the ranch for a year was not going to be the easiest assignment he’d ever had. He’d talked himself into this “cream puff” of a situation, but Pop would certainly laugh if he saw him now, cowed into a small bedroom and padding around with clean, silent feet, all thanks to Pop and his Grandchildren Conspiracy.
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