Stand-In Rancher Daddy. Renee Ryan

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СКАЧАТЬ placed the girls in front of him, set a hand on a shoulder of each. “How about that ice cream now?”

      Sarah slowly nodded, digging her toe at an exposed root beneath her foot. “That would be okay.” Sniffling, she wiped her face on her sleeve. “I guess.”

      Anna glanced at her sister uncertainly, then at CJ, then back at her sister. “We like ice cream.”

      Relieved they were feeling more agreeable, CJ rose. Molly stood, as well. The quiet support in her eyes soothed him all the way to his soul.

      CJ accepted that he was in over his head with the girls. He also accepted that he couldn’t keep wishing Ned would change his mind and come home. Sarah and Anna were CJ’s daughters now. They would be an integral part of his life for at least another twelve years. That was a lot of tears and sloppy hair ribbons and burned oatmeal to navigate.

      The prospect of all that stood before him nearly brought him to his knees. Thankfully, things weren’t as dire as they seemed on the surface. The good Lord had blessed CJ with a kind, beautiful woman willing to help him find his way.

      Molly Carson Langley was a Godsend. More importantly, she’d promised to stick by him for as long as he needed her. For this one moment, that was enough.

       Chapter Five

      In the aftermath of the twins’ emotional outburst, ripples of raw tension moved through Molly. Concern for the children continued threatening her composure. They’d been so upset, practically inconsolable. Even now, though the prospect of ice cream had cheered them considerably, the remnants of tears still glistened on their tiny black eyelashes.

      Chewing on her bottom lip, Molly slipped a glance at CJ. He looked as flummoxed as she felt. Yet despite his obvious unease, he’d confronted the explosion of little-girl panic with remarkable calm. He’d called on Molly’s assistance only as a last resort.

      Molly hadn’t thought she could admire CJ any more than she already did. But watching him with his nieces had charmed her beyond measure. If she wasn’t careful her admiration could easily turn into something deeper, more lasting.

      She put the thought out of her mind.

      CJ asked the twins what their favorite ice cream flavor was as he steered them across the open field. Vanilla was at the top of their list. Molly agreed. Not so, CJ. “I prefer chocolate.”

      He said this with such conviction the girls immediately changed their minds and insisted Molly do the same.

      She refused to be swayed, which earned her a wink from CJ.

      There he went, charming her again. Molly focused on her surroundings instead of the way her pulse sped up.

      Children of all ages and sizes ran past their subdued little group. Boys chased one another in a rowdy game of tag. Several girls played hopscotch, while others sat on blankets with dolls. Molly’s brothers tossed a ball with the Barlow boys and a few others their same age.

      At the end of the grassy field, a long table had been set up in front of large, wooden tubs being hand-cranked by men of the congregation, Molly’s father included. Her sister and their mother had joined other smiling women and were now serving up ice cream in plain, nondescript cups.

      CJ reached for two filled with the twins’ new favorite flavor.

      “Thank you, Unca Corny,” they said in tandem as they took the cups from him. Although their faces were still red and puffy, they dug into the ice cream with enthusiasm.

      CJ watched them eat. His face showed strain, yet he managed a smile for each of the twins, then another, softer one for Molly.

      For the breadth of a heartbeat she held his stare.

      She saw reliability when she looked into his eyes. She also saw rough honesty, conviction and the deep code of ethics that ruled him. CJ Thorn would make some woman a wonderful husband.

      There was no joy in the knowledge, only an ache of longing. The sensation plowed deeper when he picked up a cup of vanilla ice cream and offered it to her. It was such a simple thing yet spoke of his attentiveness.

      Unable to imagine swallowing a single bite past the walnut-sized lump lodged in her throat, she lifted her hand, palm facing him. “None for me.”

      “You sure?”

      “Positive.”

      Shrugging, he set the cup back on the table, then speared his splayed fingers through his hair as he gazed at her. When he pulled his hand away, several wild strands were left sticking out.

      Molly desperately wanted to reach up and smooth the black locks back in place. It was oddly distracting, this need to take care of CJ. Not as she did the twins, but as a woman took care of her man.

      The thought staggered her. She deliberately glanced away, and realized her mistake when she caught her mother watching her interacting with CJ and the twins.

      A familiar look of concern fell across Helen Carson’s face, or was that disapproval? Dread pulled in Molly’s stomach, twisting hard when the older woman made a jerking motion with her chin, as if to say she wanted a word with Molly in private.

      She had a good idea what was on her mother’s mind. Molly had made a bold statement when she’d chosen to sit with the Thorns during service, and then had stuck by their sides ever since.

      Well, this wasn’t the time for a heart-to-heart between mother and daughter. Ned’s absence had been noticed and publically remarked upon by Little Horn’s most voracious gossip.

      No doubt Mrs. Hickey was already discussing the situation with her cronies and anyone else who cared to listen. Talk would inevitably turn to the twins, then to CJ, and ultimately to Molly’s role in their family. Assumptions would be made, conclusions drawn.

      A hard knot of frustration balled in Molly’s stomach. No wonder her mother wanted to speak with her.

      As inconspicuously as possible, Molly slipped to the other side of CJ, then made the mistake of sending another glance in her mother’s direction. She was still watching her. This time, Molly definitely saw worry in the older woman’s eyes.

      Feeling marginally guilty, she started toward her mother, but paused midstep when a neighboring rancher moved directly into her path. He was clearly heading her way. Or rather, he was heading toward CJ.

      What little Molly knew about Edmund McKay, which admittedly wasn’t much, she liked. He was a hardworking, dedicated rancher and one of the most respected men in the community. Somewhere in his early thirties, he’d lived in the area for nearly thirteen years. Tall, several inches over six feet, he had a strong muscular frame, light brown hair and intense green eyes that held a hawk-like sharpness.

      He was a bit rough around the edges, but he was one of CJ’s closest friends, which was a large point in his favor.

      Drawing to a stop at a polite distance, he took off his hat and gave Molly a kind, if somewhat tentative smile. “Good day, Mrs. Langley.”

      “Good day to you, Mr. McKay.”

      Looking slightly СКАЧАТЬ