Harlequin American Romance October 2013 Bundle: Twins Under the Christmas Tree\Big Sky Christmas\Her Wyoming Hero\A Rancher's Christmas (2 page)

“Sorry, mister.” The brothers scooped oat rings off of Conway's shirt and stuffed them back into the box. Conway swung his legs to the floor and sat up. The twins were identical. They wore their hair cut in a traditional little-boy style with a side part and both had their mother's almond-shaped brown eyes.

He pointed to the kid holding the cereal box. “What's your name?”

“Javier.”

Conway moved his finger to the other boy.

“I'm Miguel. Who are you?”

So Miguel was the outgoing one and Javier the shy one. “Conway Twitty Cash.”

“That's a long name,” Miguel said.

“You can call me Conway.” It wasn't enough that his mother had slept with every Tom, Dick and Harry across southern Arizona, but she'd also possessed a strange sense of humor in naming all six of her sons after country-music legends. “How old are you guys?”

“Four.” They answered in unison.

“Are you a real cowboy?” Miguel asked.

“That depends. You asking if I work on a ranch?”

Miguel nodded.

“I'm not that kind of cowboy.”

Javier made eye contact with his brother and Conway swore the boys conversed telepathically. “What kind of cowboy are you?” Miguel asked.

“Part-time rodeo cowboy. When I'm not bustin' broncs, I work on a farm.”

The boys stared with blank expressions.

“You know what pecans are, don't you?”

They shook their heads.

“Nuts that grow on trees. People eat the nuts or use them in pies.”

Javier whispered in his brother's ear then Miguel asked, “How come you're in our house?”

Not sure what answer Isi would want him to give her sons, he asked a question of his own. “Have you ever seen a man in your house after you woke up in the morning?”

They shook their heads again.

For some stupid reason that pleased Conway.

Javier whispered in his brother's ear.

“You can ask me questions yourself, Javier,” Conway said.

“I mostly talk.” Miguel's chest puffed up. “Why are you sleeping on our couch?”

“Your mom wasn't feeling well, so I stayed the night in case something bad happened.”

“Is Mom dying?” Miguel paused, then said, “Like what?”

“No, your mom isn't dying. For Pete's sake!” Conway had trouble following the conversation—he'd never talked with four-year-olds before. “Like what, what?”

“What kind of bad things?” Miguel asked.

“Well, there could have been a fire in the middle of the night.”

Javier ran from the room then returned with a small fire extinguisher.

“We know how to put out a fire,” Miguel said.

He doubted the boys had the strength to pull the pin on the extinguisher, but he was impressed that they knew what the canister was used for. “Or a bad guy could've broken into the trailer.”

Javier set down the extinguisher then opened the closet door in the hallway and removed a baseball bat, which he dragged across the carpet. Conway got the impression the kid was trying to tell him that they didn't need his help protecting their mother.

“Can you lift that?” he asked.

Javier raised the bat and Conway intercepted the barrel before it hit Miguel in the back of the head. “Whoa, slugger.” He confiscated the weapon and laid it on the couch.

“Javi...Mig... Where are you guys?” Isi's sluggish voice rang out a moment before she appeared in the hallway. Conway sucked in a quiet breath. The bruising beneath her eyes had deepened to dark purple.

“Mom!” Miguel dashed across the room, Javier following him. “What happened?” Both boys hugged Isi's legs.

“I had an accident at work last night. I ran into a door and broke my nose.”

“Does it hurt?” Miguel asked.

“Yes. Did you have breakfast?” Isi dropped to one knee and hugged her sons. She whispered in Miguel's ear then he went into the kitchen, climbed onto the counter and retrieved two cereal bowls from the cupboard. Javier remained by Isi's side—he was definitely the insecure twin.

“Mom.” Miguel set the bowls on the table.

“What?”

“Conway Twitty Cash slept on our couch.”

“You can call me Conway.”


Mr
. Conway,” Isi said.

“I told them I stayed last night, because you weren't feeling well and I needed to be here in case of an emergency.”

“We don't need his help, do we, Javi?” Miguel said.

Javier wouldn't look at Conway.

“It was nice of Mr. Conway to stay, but I'm fine now.” Isi sent him a time-to-leave look.

Conway stood up and the Cheerios that had gotten caught in the wrinkles of his shirt spilled to the floor. He stepped over the Os to avoid smashing them into the carpet. “Your sitter left this for you last night.” He handed her the piece of paper Miguel had pushed aside on the table. “She wanted you to read it first thing in the morning.”

While Isi read the note, Conway said, “I'd really like to make it up to you for what happened last night. Is there anything I can—”

Isi glanced up from the note a stunned expression on her face.

“What's wrong?” he asked.

“Nicole quit.”

“What?”

“She's moving to Tucson to live with her father.”

“When?” Conway asked.

“Today.” Isi sighed. “If I don't find a sitter by Monday, I'll have to skip class and I have an exam that day.”

“Maybe your mother could help out with the boys.”

She frowned. “My mother's dead.”

That's right. She'd told him her mother had passed away right before she'd immigrated to the U.S. He inched closer to the door. “Maybe a relative—”

“Conway—”

Hand on the doorknob he froze. “What?”

“I told you a long time ago that I don't have any family. It's just me and the boys.”

Really? He couldn't recall Isi talking about her family. He was always wrapped up in his dating dilemmas and the information had probably gone in one ear and out the other. He swallowed hard. That Isi was all alone in the world didn't seem right. He might have had a mother who cared more about chasing after men, and a father who hadn't wanted the responsibility of raising him, but he'd had siblings and grandparents who cared about him.

“You offered to help,” she said. “Would you watch the boys until I find a replacement sitter?”

Babysit?
Him?
“I don't think that's a good idea.”

“It would be for two or three days at the most.”

“I don't know anything about kids.”

She ignored his protests. “I'd need you to drop them off at preschool and bring them back here afterward.”

“I'm sure—” he winked at the boys “—they'd rather have anyone but me watch them.”

“Never mind.” Her shoulders sagged.

Did she have to act so dejected?

“I'll take the boys to school with me and hope the professors allow them into the classroom.”

“I don't want to go to your school, Mom,” Miguel said.

It's because of me that Isi's nose is broken
.

Oh, hell
. How hard could it be to watch a couple of four-year-olds? For two years Isi had listened to him bellyache about women. He couldn't turn his back on her when she needed him most.

“Okay, I'll watch the boys,” he said.

She flashed him a bright smile. “You'll need to be here by noon on Monday.”

“See you then.” Right now, Conway couldn't escape fast enough.

Chapter Two

“I don't want a babysitter.”

Isi ignored Javier, who sat under the kitchen table playing with his toy cars, and focused on memorizing the Visual Basic code for her exam later in the day.

“How come Conway Twitty Cash has to watch us?” Miguel asked.

Ever since her son had learned Conway's full name, he insisted on using it. For the tenth time, she explained, “Nicole moved to Tucson to live with her father and Mr. Conway is helping us out until I find a new sitter.”

Her child-care search had stalled over the weekend. The manager at the preschool had offered Isi the names of three women but none of them had been available to watch the boys at night while she worked at the bar. She worried she'd have to resort to the want ads in the newspaper.

“Mr. Conway's not a girl,” Javier said.

“He certainly is not.” Conway was all male. Not only did he have a movie-star face, but the way he filled out a pair of jeans turned female heads when he strolled into the bar. Add a boyish grin to his cowboy appeal and every woman on this side of the border was in love with the man.

Too bad he wasn't interested in being a father, because she still experienced an occasional romantic dream about Conway. The day he'd come into the bar and hit on her had been the stuff of fairy tales. Then when he'd learned she was a single mother, he'd cooled toward her. She'd wanted to stay mad at him forever, but he'd continued to visit the bar and joke around with her and in a matter of weeks they'd settled into a cozy friendship. He'd been and always would be her favorite cowboy.

Javier drove a Lego car over the top of her shoe. “Only girls babysit.”

“Boys can be sitters, too,” she said.

“Conway Twitty Cash, Conway Twitty Cash, Conway Twitty Cash, Con—”

“Enough, Miguel!” Isi shut the textbook. “Names are special and you shouldn't make fun of someone's name.”

“Our names are special,” Javier said.

She'd named her sons after their twin uncles Javier and Miguel whom they'd never met and never would. Surprisingly, the boys favored their namesakes. Isi's brother Javier had been shy and her brother Miguel had been outgoing—neither had lived long enough to meet their nephews. Isi wished there was a man in her life to help raise the twins, but she'd rather go it alone as a single mom than trust the well-being of her sons to a here-one-day-gone-the-next boyfriend or their biological father, who refused to claim them.

One of the reasons her friendship with Conway had grown was because she enjoyed listening to him talk about his family. When she heard stories about him and his brothers' antics she felt like one of his siblings.

“He's too big for our house,” Javier said.

Isi poked her head beneath the table, wincing at the stab of pain in her nose. “Mr. Conway seems tall because we're all short.”

“Do we have to do what Conway Twitty Cash says?” Miguel asked.

“Yes.” Isi opened the refrigerator door. “You two wash up while I make lunch.” Miguel raced to the bathroom but Javier remained beneath the table. Isi peered at him. “What's the matter?”

“I don't want you to go to school.”

“I have an important test this afternoon,” she said.

“Are you gonna go to school forever?”

“I hope not.” This was her final semester and as long as she passed all her classes, she'd earn an associate degree in business before Christmas. She pulled on her son's shirt until he crawled into the open then she sat him on her lap. “Tell me what's really bothering you,
mi corazón?

Javier laid his head against her chest. “Mr. Conway's a very nice man,” she said. “Did you know he has five brothers and a sister?”

Javier shook his head.

“Maybe when he gets here, you can ask him what it's like to have to share toys with all those brothers.” She checked the wall clock. Conway would arrive shortly to drive the boys to preschool—three hours during which she wouldn't have to worry about her sons. It was what went on after Conway picked them up from school that concerned her.

“Everything's going to be okay.” She set Javier on his feet and gave him a gentle push in the direction of the bathroom. “Wash your hands.”

A half hour later, the boys had eaten their peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and had fetched their backpacks from the bedroom when the doorbell rang.

“It's Conway Twitty Cash!” Miguel raced to the door.

“Use the peephole,” Isi said.

Miguel climbed onto the chair next to the door and peered through the spy hole. “It's him.” He hopped down and flung open the door. “Hi, Conway Twitty Cash.”

Conway grinned. “Hi, Miguel Lopez.”

“How come you know I'm Miguel?”

“Because you talk more than your brother.” Conway stepped inside. “Hello, Javier.”

Javi peeked at Conway from behind Isi's legs. “Thanks for arriving early,” she said.

“No problem.” His brown-eyed gaze roamed over her body and she resisted glancing at herself to see if she'd spilled food on the front of her blouse.

She motioned to the kitchen table where she'd left a notebook open. “Important numbers are in there. The boys need to be dropped off at school by twelve-thirty and picked up at three-thirty. Supper's between five and six. Bath time is seven. Bedtime eight. I should be home shortly after midnight.”

“Where's the school?” Conway asked.

“Over there.” Miguel pointed at the kitchen window.

“The Tiny Tot Learn and Play is a mile down the road next to the McDonald's.” Isi peeled Javier's arms off her legs, kissed his cheek then gathered her backpack and laptop before kissing Miguel. “Be good for Mr. Conway. If I get a bad report, we won't be going to the carnival this weekend.”

She took two steps toward the door before Conway blocked her path. His cologne shot straight up her nose and she sucked in a quick breath. He always smelled nice when he came into the bar. Her eyes narrowed. “What's different about you?”

“I got a haircut,” he said.

His shaggy golden-brown hair usually hung over the collar of his shirt. The shorter style made him appear older, more mature. Less like a playboy. “I like it.” His lips curved in his trademark sexy smile. If she didn't leave soon, she'd be tempted to run her fingers through his locks.

He followed her outside. “Don't you want my number in case you need to get in touch with me?”

Duh
. She dug her phone from her purse. “What is it?” He recited the digits. “Thanks. My cell number is in the notebook.” She turned away then stopped. “I notified the school that you'd be bringing the boys and picking them up for a few days. You'll need to show your license each time. And don't forget to put their booster seats in your truck.” She waved at the seats on the porch. “Thanks again!”

Conway watched Isi get into her clunker and drive off then studied his charges. The boys stood side by side, their backpacks strapped on. They wore the same outfit. Jeans, striped T-shirts—Miguel's was red and blue and Javier's was green and blue.

“Aren't we gonna leave, Conway Twitty Cash?” Miguel asked.

“We can't.”

The brothers looked at each other, then Miguel asked, “Why not?”

Conway stared at Javier's feet.

Miguel shoved his brother. “You got different shoes on, stupid.”

“I know.” Javier jutted his chin.

Conway suspected the kid hadn't meant to wear mismatched shoes and was trying to save face. “Cool. I used to wear a different cowboy boot on each foot when I first began rodeoing.”

“Why?” Miguel asked.

“For good luck,” Conway said. “Is that why you wear different shoes, Javier?”

The boy jiggled his head.

“I wore my good-luck boots all the time and you know what happened?”

“What?” both boys asked.

“They ran out of luck.”

Javier raced from the room and returned with matching sneakers.

“Smart man, Javier. Gotta save the good luck for stuff that matters.” Crisis averted, Conway ushered the boys out of the trailer and they raced to his truck.

“Hey, does your mom lock the door when she leaves?”

Miguel returned to the porch and plucked a key from the flowerpot of fake daisies on the first step. After Conway secured the trailer, he slipped the key into his pocket and picked up the booster seats. “You guys sit in the front while I figure out how to install these things.” Five minutes later, he said, “Okay. Get in them.”

The boys climbed in the truck, their shoes dragging across the front seat of the cab as they crawled into their boosters. “Watch the shoes, amigos.” Conway's black Dodge was only a year old—he didn't even allow his dates to put their makeup on in his truck. Once the boys were buckled in, he drove off.

There was nowhere to park his big truck in the preschool lot when he arrived, so he pulled into a handicapped spot. He'd no sooner turned off the engine than a woman knocked on the window.

“You can't park here,” she said. “You don't have a permit.”

“I'm dropping the boys off.”

“I'm sorry, but you'll have to use the lot across the street.”

“I'll only be a few minutes.”

“Doesn't matter.” She planted her hands on her hips and he had no doubt that she'd tackle him to the ground if he tried to get out of the truck.

“Hang on, guys.” Conway backed out of the spot.

“That's Mrs. Schneider,” Miguel said. “We call her Mrs. Spider 'cause she's creepy.” The boys giggled.

“She is creepy.” Conway parked across the street then helped the boys out of their booster seats. The school bell rang, echoing above the noise from the traffic.

“We get a flag by our name if we're late,” Miguel said.

Conway tucked both boys against his sides like footballs and said, “Hold on.” Bypassing the crosswalk he dashed across the street then set his cargo on their feet. “Lead the way.”

As soon as they entered the building, Miguel marched up to the front desk and said, “This is Conway Twitty Cash.”

The day-care employee rolled her eyes. “And I'm Loretta Lynn.”

Conway fished his wallet from his pocket. “Isi Lopez called the school and informed someone that I'd be dropping the boys off and picking them up.” He set his license on the counter.

The woman read his license. “You're kidding, right?”

“No, ma'am. I'm Conway Twitty Cash.”

Miguel grinned at the lady.

“Shouldn't you guys hang up your backpacks?” Conway asked.

The lady handed him a clipboard and pen. “Fill out this form.”

He wrote down his full name, cell phone, social security and license numbers plus the color, make and model of his truck. Hell, he was surprised they didn't ask for a credit card. When he finished, he turned away from the desk and plowed into Javier, who'd been standing behind him the whole time.

“Javier doesn't like to come here,” the lady whispered then walked off to speak with a parent.

Conway guided the boy to a chair in the waiting area and sat down. “You don't like to come here?”

The kid scuffed his shoe against the floor.

“Are the teachers mean?”

Javier shook his head.

“Are the kids mean?”

He shrugged.

Javier's shyness probably made him an easy target for bullies. Conway peeked into the main room and saw that Miguel sat on the floor with a group of boys. He didn't know what to do. If he left Javier at the school, he'd worry about him being picked on.

“Are you ill?” He touched the boy's forehead. “You feel kind of warm. You think you might be coming down with a cold?”

Javier's eyebrows scrunched together.

“Because if you're getting sick, you shouldn't stay here and infect the other kids.”

The boy blinked then he faked a sneeze.

“You are coming down with a cold.” Conway spoke with the head of the preschool then waited while she asked Miguel if he wanted to go home with his brother. Miguel elected to remain at school.

Now what?
Conway sat in his truck staring at Javier in the rearview mirror. He'd planned to use the time the boys were in school to browse orchard sprayers at a local farm-equipment store. He needed to apply insecticide to the pecan trees before the weevils got out of hand. “You ever been to a tractor store, Javier?” The boy shook his head. “Then it's about time you met John Deere.”

* * *

I
SI
TURNED
IN
her exam early and left the classroom. The test had been a breeze—then again she'd studied all weekend. She didn't have the luxury of failing a class or retaking it. She'd qualified for a scholarship to attend the community college and she had to maintain a 3.0 grade point average to keep her financial aid.

She stopped at the school cafeteria for a bite to eat before her next class and while she waited in the sandwich line, she skimmed through phone messages. When she saw the missed call from the preschool, alarm bells went off inside her head. She gave up her place in line and stepped into the hallway to call the school. After learning Conway had signed out Javier because her son hadn't felt well, she dialed Conway's cell. No answer. She left a voicemail, asking him for an update then returned to the cafeteria.

By the time her final class of the day ended, she still hadn't heard from Conway. She contacted the preschool again and they confirmed that Conway and Javier had returned to pick up Miguel. As soon as Isi arrived at the bar, she texted Conway. When he didn't answer, she left another message, pleading with him to get in touch with her. Two hours later, she was about to ask her boss if she could leave work early when Conway strolled into the bar with the twins.

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