THE TEXAS RANGER'S TWINS EXCERPT Chapter One Suzy Winterstone didn't like the Morgan ranch. It was too big, too isolated, and very scary at night. She walked inside the house, feelings chills that weren't from the January wind. The front door actually squeaked, just like in an old movie. She told herself the hinges were cold and unused, but then she remembered that Josiah Morgan told her he had a farmhand who kept an eye on the property. So the hinges weren't that unused—they were simply spooky. All of five-foot-five and weighing about a hundred and thirty pounds, Suzy wasn't good for grappling 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 stay with her children. Here was a golden opportunity to achieve her heart's desire. Josiah Morgan said she'd be doing a favor for him—he'd been very generous to her and this job offer was no exception. Upon hearing that her boyfriend of three years had departed their relationship, leaving her high and dry with twin babies, Josiah 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 he was crazy, but most people thought he was kind and grandfatherly, including Suzy. Suzy's children had been born by caesarian section. She'd been working as a nurse at the hospital up until her maternity leave so she was fortunate to have insurance. She could always go back to work as a nurse, but despite creaking doors, this would be a wonderful place to work for one year. Josiah wanted it kept cleaned; 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 the fireplace room, noting the window casements were about eighteen-feet high. She went up the stairs, aware that every bedroom felt cold. Lack of human warmth chilled the house, and she could understand why Josiah felt it would be better to have her family livening up the house in his absence. She decided to take the job—and first thing tomorrow, she was oiling those front door hinges. She was still preoccupied with the squeaky hinges when she went into the final 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 good for her—she could make a nursery out of the room across the hall. She screamed as something grabbed her, tossed her onto a bed. Still shrieking, she scrambled away, only to be caught in strong hands as a light flipped on in the room. 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 her to 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 stare, raking her from her head to her toes and back up again. She gave him credit for not looking 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'm retired from the Texas Rangers and know some of the fellows here." He held her a little tighter, checking her over more closely, his gaze wolf-like. He was toying with her. Anger-edged adrenalin 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 who might 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, his tone very unhappy. "Here?" She gave him a worthy glaring. "Yes, he did." He stared at her for a minute, and the overriding emotion she saw in those dark eyes now was anger. He scared her; he looked like the sort of man who might not play by the rules of common decency, for example, tossing her out on the porch to soothe his temper. "Damn Pop," he finally said, his tone a growl. "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, his eyes glittering. "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 suppose that's supposed to frighten 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 premise than my babies and me being here alone." "Oh, yes, the babies. The pink ribboned treasures intended to facilitate my father's golden years." "Is there a problem with that?" She looked him over, admitting to herself that he was certainly sexy, but sexy wasn't always worthwhile in a man. "You seem to have an aversion to children, so I'm not sure why it would bother you if your father enjoys my children." He shook his head, crossed his arms. "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 screaming like crazy at being jumped by the Adonis in the doorway. She'd never been much for hide-and-go-seek; 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 skittered 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. "And we'll draw straws for bedrooms!" she called up the stairs, just to assert herself more fully. His laughter echoed down the stairwell. Chapter Two "So Suzy Winterstone is cute," Gabriel Morgan said to his older brother as Dane visited him and his wife, Laura, at their comfortable house. Gabriel had adapted to living well in this small domain with his growing family, Dane had to admit. But still 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." He heard Laura laugh in the kitchen as she caught his remark. Her children—now 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 hungrily 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 matchmaking from the start. "She doesn't shut up." "Hm," 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 a police sergeant, and I've had my fill of those." 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 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 woman 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 non-stop. 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, and went to help the children select different cookie cutters. He considered the lightly falling snow outside, and the gray skies—all a sign that 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 peace 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 taking his brothers to rodeo. 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. 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 daredevil, 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 in just like Gabriel. 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 large 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 didn't speak 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 girls Nicole and Sandra after her mother. For the hundredth time, she thought about calling her mother, then decided it wouldn't be a welcome phone call. 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 said, and had never called. 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 and be-my-daddy voices. 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 in his room, 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 lots 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 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 require 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, studying it. The tinder caught slowly, the cold logs reluctant to take the heat. He realized that no matter how much he fought it, this was not going to be the easiest assignment. 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 Lullaby. Chapter Three In the morning, Suzy was awakened by her children stirring. Nicole gently touched her mother's face. Sandra waved a tiny hand at some sunlight streaming into the room. Suzy smiled, enjoying the gentle wake-up. "You must be getting hungry," she told her girls, and then realized they had slept the entire night in the house without any incident concerning Dane Morgan. "This is going to work just fine," she said, putting on her clothes. She helped her daughters dress, a slow process because they were at the age where they wanted to do things themselves. Their little fingers weren't quite ready for pulling on tights to keep their legs warm, or brushing their own hair. Finally, they were all ready to leave the sanctuary of their bedroom and head into the kitchen. "Hold my hands," she told her girls, "we have to be absolutely careful on these stairs." She tiptoed by the other bedrooms on the hall in order to avoid a run-in with Josiah's son, breathing much easier when she made it to the kitchen. But the dark-haired, cold-eyed handsome stranger sitting at the table pulled a startled shriek from her. He jumped to his feet, spilling hot coffee on his hand and swearing a blue streak. Her daughters began to cry so she clutched them to her, glaring at the stranger. "Who are you?" "Who are you?" he shot back. "You don't live here." She raised her chin. "I do. And if you don't leave right this instant, I'll scream. There's a man sleeping upstairs and he'll come running down—" The back door opened. "It's durn cold out—" Dane stopped when he saw the scene in the kitchen. His gaze swept over her, registering her panic, and then went to the stranger. Then he calmly went over to the sink to wash his hands. Suzy gasped. "What are you doing?" "Washing my hands to warm them up." Dane grinned at her. "Is there a problem?" She blinked. "Do you know this person?" The man took off his hat, nodding to her. "My name's Pete. I'm one of Dane's brothers," he said, "I let myself in," he said to Dane who merely nodded. "Sorry to frighten you." He gave Suzy what she supposed was a reassuring smile. "Dane says I unnerve him when I pop in, too. I didn't realize he had company." "I am not his company," Suzy said, stiffening. "I'm the housekeeper." Pete grinned hugely. "Pop," he said to Dane. "He's got you by the short—" "Ah, let's get some breakfast on the table," Dane interrupted. "Is that in your job description?" he asked Suzy. "I'm not quite sure of all the parameters yet." These two were quite the pair. There was some unspoken joke going on between them, but Suzy was in no mood to guess what it was. "I cook for myself and my daughters," she said, getting out oatmeal. "You two are on your own." She waited for Dane to move away from the sink so she could fill a pot with water. He looked at the pot a trifle regretfully before turning to his brother. "We're still working out the kinks in this housekeeping thing," he said, and Pete nodded. "I see that." Pete sat, making himself right at home to Suzy's irritation, because it was his home and she hadn't factored being in a house with one man much less two. No one had been on the ranch in six months—surely both of these men weren't planning on staying long. "Hope I won't be any trouble," Pete said. Suzy whirled to look at him, ignoring how fast her heart had begun to beat as she'd stood next to Dane at the sink. "Trouble?" "Living here." Dane grinned. "Come to sweat it out for your share?" Pete shrugged. His gaze went to Suzy for just an instant. "Hadn't planned on it, but you two need a chaperone. Pop clearly didn't consider that in his scheming, but I might be persuaded." Suzy's daughters stared up at the big man, completely perplexed by the two Morgan men. They hadn't been around many men, and these two had deep voices and large, masculine presences. Suzy decided to skip the chaperone comment and went straight to the ominous word in Pete's analysis. "Scheming?" "You know. To get you two to fall in love with each other." Suzy froze. "Are you implying that my job is nothing more than a sham? A cover to induce me into playing house with your brother so that we'd somehow end up together?" Dane winced. "That might be harsh terminology—" "Actually, I think she nailed Pop's plan," Pete said, sitting back down at the table. "Looks like the gist of it to me." "Now that we're all feeling very awkward, why don't we eat some oatmeal? Matters will probably seem less complicated on full stomachs." Dane glanced longingly at the pan Suzy held. Suzy frowned. "Let me be perfectly clear on something. I am not here for anyone's amusement. Nor did your father seem like the type to be so underhanded. I'm shocked you would suggest it," she said to Pete, "and I'm annoyed that you don't refute it," she told Dane. Both brothers shrugged. "I think you two are troublemakers," Suzy said, "and if you're trying to run me out of this house to spite your father, a man I know neither of you got along with, I suggest you take your problems up with Mr. Morgan." She took a deep breath, set the pan on the stove. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to feed my children." Suzy felt her hands tremble ever so slightly. Nicole and Sandra clung at her legs, probably sensing the tension in the room. She had a good mind to call Mr. Morgan and directly ask him what his sons were up to—but decided against it just as quickly. A check had been included with the letter in which Mr. Morgan had hired her, with a very generous three month's salary. She'd deposited the check. For the first time, she was feeling more comfortable financially. Mr. Morgan had given each of her children what he called inheritances, money that was tucked away in savings accounts for their college. What business arrangements existed between Mr. Morgan and herself were none of his sons' business. It was the brothers' fault if they felt uncomfortable around her—they should be ashamed of the stories they'd concocted about their own father! "Suzy, maybe we jumped to conclusions," Dane said. She ignored that and went on stirring the oatmeal into the pot. "You don't know Pop like we do, though." "It doesn't matter. Your story is implausible. There's no way your father knew you'd be here, Dane. You didn't even know Pete was coming to stay." She glanced at him. "I don't want to be dragged in to your family issues, but from the way I see it, you have issues with your father. He doesn't really have them with you." Dane and Pete stared at her, their jaws slightly slack. She could tell she had shocked them—but wasn't that a good thing? These men were taking some childish anger out on an old man who cared for them deeply. "It's none of my concern," she said, putting brown sugar and butter into bowls. "Let's just go on like none of this ever happened." Even though it had been said—and there was no way she'd ever trust anything these men ever said—and Dane had even kissed her! "As far as Pete's idea of a chaperone, it's a good one. I'll take care of that." Dane didn't look too happy, and Pete seemed to realize he'd caused his brother some type of predicament, but what he didn't realize what that he'd also reminded her of her mother's direct criticism of Suzy's "looseness." Suzy was an embarrassment to the wealthy family tree. She glanced at the brothers—too handsome and too cocky for their own good!—as she seated her daughters at the table and put their bowls in front of them. Without another glance at the men staring hungrily at the children's breakfast, Suzy began humming under her breath. *** Pete sighed as he and his brother went out to one of the barns. "Sorry if I'm cramping your love nest. I didn't realize you had company." Dane held in a groan. "I didn't realize I had company, either, until yesterday. Needless to say, Pop's probably laughing in the French countryside, enjoying the grapes and the excellent cuisine." "I bet. You know, I've never liked this place. It was never a home. We were too far from town to have friends, and Pop was too busy to be a father. I wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for the money." "Got yourself in a bind?" Dane asked curiously, and Pete nodded. "You, too?" "Yeah," Dane said, thinking about his partner. "You'd think with Pop as a role model, I wouldn't have gotten sucked into a con game, but I did. Lost my savings." Dane shook his head. "And now it seems we're getting sucked into another." "Not me," Pete said. "I never got a letter from Pop asking me to look out for a woman. I figure I'm in the clear by now." Dane shook his head. "If I were you, I'd be even more fearful." Pete stopped in the motion of slinging a saddle across a wooden horse. "What's that supposed to mean?" "I've always feared the unknown most with Pop." Dane grinned at his brother, enjoying the chance to have the upper hand, if only for a moment. "I know what my full downside is: Suzy. The other shoe has yet to drop for you." "Maybe Suzy's my dream girl," Pete said, then laughed at Dane's shocked expression. "Oh, come on, Pop's not picky about who pairs up with whom, just long as we do." Dane stopped his work to give his brother a full glaring. "What is a secret agent going to do with a wife?" "Be very happy," Pete said, "I'm thinking about settling down." Dane laughed. "Like hell you are." His brother was only thirty and still had the call of the wild written all over him. Tough and sinewy with glacial dark eyes and cheeks sculpted by demons (at least that's what Pop had always said), Pete was no ladies' man. No man for a lady, and Suzy seemed like a lady. "Feel like a gentle wager?" Pete asked. Dane raised a brow. "As a former Texas Ranger, I should say no, but curiosity compels me to ask what you have in mind." "Suzy falls for me, and you owe me a night of babysitting her little angels so I can romance their mother." "That's heinous," Dane said, feeling a flicker of jealousy that shocked him. "Betting on a woman's feelings is ungentlemanly." Pete laughed. "Bro, you're taking a leaf out of Gabriel's book." "Meaning?" "You're already down for the count." Dane snorted and grabbed some neatsfoot oil to clean and shine the saddle. He completely ignored Pete and his dumb observation. The thing was, and which Pete couldn't possibly understand, Dane was moving to Mexico where the palm trees waved and the sun shone hot, the tortillas were soft and the ladies were sweet. He hated Texas and nothing—and no one—was ever going to entice him to stay. "Listen, Pete," he said suddenly, and abruptly, as if to underline his own mental game, "it's going to be a helluva long year if you're going wear me out with your romantic issues. If you're frustrated and lonely and looking for a wife, by all means, put on your best show for Suzy. And I might add she's probably not the only single woman in town. Best part is, these days all roads lead to town pretty quickly, and you've got a shiny truck to get you there for all the womanizing you can stand." Pete laughed and went looking for something in the barn. Dane put the whole incident out of his mind for a moment, then took a pocketknife out of his back pocket. With a careful stroke, he notched two lines on the wood rail beside the saddle. Only three hundred sixty-three more days to go. *** Cricket Jasper had known Suzy Winterstone a long time, and if Suzy said she needed help, then Suzy needed help. So Cricket packed her bags and headed out from Fort Wylie to spend a week with Suzy at an old house in the deep country without hesitation. Why Suzy wouldn't come back to Fort Wylie, Cricket wasn't certain. The Winterstones weren't the most affectionate clan, but they missed their only daughter, Cricket was certain. They were still mad about the unplanned pregnancy, but that was almost two years past. Surely it was time to put all those hot emotions in the past. Cricket could feel forgiveness since she was a deacon. And Suzy was like a sister to her—she wanted Suzy to be happy. Family matters weren't important at the moment, Cricket decided, and parked her little Volkswagen beside the two big trucks in the Morgan ranch driveway, and the smaller, more worn car that Cricket recognized as Suzy's. Suzy came out on the porch, waiting with a big smile and her two little girls beside her. Cricket hadn't seen the girls since they were born—just tiny babies!—so she hurried to sweep them into her arms. "I'm so glad to see you, Suzy! And these two little dumplings!" Suzy smiled, grateful her friend had arrived. "Thank you so much for coming out." "No problem," Cricket told her with a hug. "The minute you said you needed help, I penciled in vacation time—" Her words trailed off as two large men walked toward the house from an outlying barn. "My goodness, they grow them big in the country, don't they?" Suzy frowned. "At least the Morgans seem to be larger than life. They are why I need help." "They live here?" Cricket's eyes were huge. She nodded. "You'll quickly understand why their father despairs of them." "Well, I—" Cricket glanced at the men again. "Do you have to live here with them?" "I didn't know they'd be here when I took the position. I've deposited my three-month's salary, and frankly, I need the money. Not to mention that I'm eager to find a way to stay home with my children." "Three months," Cricket murmured. "Oh, they'll be here a year," Suzy told them. "Pete suggested I needed a chaperone." Cricket gasped. "The nerve!" "I think it's a good idea." Suzy eyed the men as they approached the porch. "Something also tells me I need an objective opinion of my situation." "And you think my eyes are objective?" Cricket gave the men a thorough once-over. "Looks like you're living in heaven on earth to me." "Hello," Pete said to Cricket, a grin lighting his face, although Suzy had to admit that Dane's expression was just as impressed. Tall and dark to Suzy's more cheerful blond roundness, Cricket caught and held every man's eye. She had long, lean grace, a sweet smile, big brown eyes—a tall Audrey Hepburn with her own independent carriage. Men found the combination alluring. But Cricket had never been interested in much outside her church duties. "This is Cricket Jasper, my best friend and Nicole's and Sandra's godmother," Suzy said, smiling at the men's dumbstruck expressions. "She's going to stay with me for a week. Stay with us," she amended, not feeling the slightest bit guilty for putting such luscious bait in front of the two very large tom cats. "The chaperone, I presume?" Pete said, grinning at Suzy. "Nice. I mean, it's nice to meet you, Cricket." But Dane shot Suzy a glare. "While it's nice to meet you, Cricket, and you're welcome at the Morgan ranch, please round out our happy foursome in a guest capacity. I don't require a chaperone—for any reason."