Montana Mistletoe. Roxanne Rustand

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      “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 poured a cup of coffee, pulled his cell phone from his pocket and tapped the screen. “I asked a neighbor to come over in the morning to help me drive the cattle home. Fred says he can get here around nine, though I’ve been tracking the local weather on my phone and it sounds like we might be getting some ice and snow again.”

      “I saw that, too. Starting midmorning, if the forecasters are right. The local schools have already cancelled.” She tilted her head. “Maybe you should start without him.”

      “There’s almost two hundred head of cattle up there.” He shot an impatient look at her over the rim of his coffee cup. “If I could do it on my own, I would’ve gone after them last week.”

      “I could help.”

      “And leave Betty alone with the girls?”

      “Betty would be here in the house with them, and she could call our cell phones if there were any problems. How late do the girls sleep if there’s no school?”

      He frowned. “Eight or nine. Maybe. But I still think—”

      “They’re almost six years old, and they’ll listen to Betty. She wouldn’t need to do much—maybe give them cereal and toast.” Abby shrugged. “And how long would it take to go after the cattle?”

      “Over six miles round trip—though rounding them up and moving such a large herd will make the return trip take a lot longer.”

      “If we leave early enough we might even get back before the weather hits.”

      He finished the last of his coffee. “Do you still know how to ride a horse?”

      “If I’ve forgotten that, I don’t deserve to own a pair of boots,” she shot back with a grin as he headed out of the kitchen.

      True, it had been a long time. But at the thought of saddling up and bringing in a herd of cattle tomorrow, she couldn’t contain her smile.

      It would be just like the old days, a little voice whispered in her head. Her and Jess, moving cattle and working calves on the Langfords’ ranch, or back at her dad’s place. Trail riding up into the mountains. Heading off to the local horse shows. Sharing kisses and laughter in the moonlight during long rides after dark...

      But it wouldn’t really be like the old days. Not at all. Because this was just a business arrangement, and nothing more.

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