wasn’t everything. After high school, some of Dallas’s friends had gone on to college, but all he and Bobbie Jo had wanted was to get married and start their family. It didn’t take a degree to learn ranching, but plenty of days spent working in brutal sun, cold and every sort of weather in between.
Lord, he missed his wife. She’d know what to do.
“Gonna be out here brooding all night?” His brother Wyatt broke the barn’s peace. Wasn’t there anywhere a man could go to be alone?
“I’m not brooding.”
“Uh-huh.” Tugging on leather gloves, Wyatt split a fresh hay bale in Thunder’s stall.
The black quarter horse snorted his thanks.
“Just saw Mom. She told me to tell you the girls are waiting on you to read them a story and tuck them in.”
“I know…” Wind whistled through the rafters, making the old building shudder.
“Then why aren’t you with them?”
Dallas stabbed his pitchfork in the meager pile of dung he’d collected in the wheelbarrow. “Beats me.”
“You gonna do it? Take the girls’ teacher up on her offer?”
Glancing at his younger brother over his shoulder, Dallas asked, “Think I should?”
Wyatt hefted another bale, carrying it to the next stall. “I asked around and Josie Griffin is an excellent educator, not prone to spinning yarns. She’s tough, yet compassionate. From what I’ve heard, always acting with her students’ best interests at heart.”
“Okay…so Miss Griffin’s a saint. That doesn’t mean she’s justified in calling my girls trouble.” Nor did it make him feel better about his wicked thoughts at the minigolf course.
“If that’s truly the way you feel, then take her up on her offer. Henry and I will handle things around here.” Henry was the ranch foreman and had been practically family since Dallas had been born.
“Not that simple,” Dallas said, putting extra effort into cleaning Buttercup’s stall. The palomino had been Bobbie Jo’s. His wife had spent hours prepping to show the horse. Brushing her coat until Dallas could’ve sworn the mare purred. “What would you say if I told you there’s a reason I don’t want to be at that school?”
“What’s more important than taking an active part in the twins’ education?”
Dallas winced. Wyatt had always had a knack for zeroing in on the heart of any matter. “That’s just it. The other night, when Bonnie and Betsy had that gaggle of girls over for a sleepover, we ran into Miss Griffin.” Sighing, he admitted, “The sight of her rear end in faded jeans just about fried my brain. Not good, seeing how the last thing I need is to be hot for teacher.”
Chapter Three
Why wasn’t Josie surprised Dallas had chosen to make a mockery of her suggestion?
Tuesday morning, on Weed Gulch Elementary’s sun-drenched front lawn stood not one pony, but two. The docile pets put up with dozens of stroking little hands. For the students who weren’t enraptured by cute creatures, there were cupcakes—dozens! Box after box of whimsically frosted treats, each sporting either plastic cowboy or cowgirl rings. In the center of the mayhem stood Dallas Buckhorn wearing jeans and a blue plaid Western shirt, accompanied by leather chaps, a Stetson hat and boots. Oh—the mere sight of him made her heart flutter, she’d give him that, but from a teaching standpoint, he’d ruined her whole day.
How was making construction paper analog clocks and then learning to read them going to top this?
“Miss Griffin!” Bonnie and Betsy ran up to her, hugging so hard around her waist that Josie nearly toppled over.
“Did you see what our daddy brought?”
“I sure did…” And we’re going to have a nice, long talk about it. “Are those your ponies?”
“Uh-huh,” Betsy said with a vigorous nod. “Mine is named Cookie because she has chocolate chip spots.”
“Mine’s Cinderella,” Bonnie noted. “Just like the princess because she has long, blond hairs.”
“Those are wonderful names.” Josie was glad she’d worn capris and sneakers as the lawn she marched across was still dew-soaked. “You two were clever to match them so well to each pony.”
“Thanks!” both girls said, skipping alongside her.
Before dashing ahead, Betsy shouted to her sister, “Come on, Cinderella pooped!”
Giggles abounded.
Thank goodness the older kids were already in class or off-color bathroom jokes would already be spreading. When it came to potty humor, fifth and sixth graders were experts.
“I’ve got a man here to clean all of this.” Josie had been so focused on what she’d say to Dallas that she hadn’t noticed he’d come up beside her.
Hand to her chest, she said, “You startled me.”
“Sorry.” Nodding toward the shrieking kids, he added, “I knew the ponies would be a hit, but I didn’t expect a riot.”
“When it comes to kindergarteners, it doesn’t take much.”
“I’m seeing.” His smile rocketed through her. Despite his many faults, he was undeniably handsome. Never more so than now. It was clear he belonged outside. The sun lightening his Buckhorn-blue eyes. Glancing over his shoulder, he signaled to an older man who knelt alongside Bonnie, helping her with her pet.
“Yeah, boss?” The man’s easy smile, laugh lines at the corners of brown eyes and weathered skin had Josie guessing him to be in his mid-fifties. His playful spirit around the kids made him seem much younger. Like Dallas, he wore Western wear complete with a cowboy hat.
“Josie Griffin, meet Henry Pohl. He’s worked our ranch longer than I’ve been alive.”
Shaking Josie’s hand, the man winked. “I wouldn’t say it was that long. You are getting a tad long in the tooth.”
In under twenty minutes, Dallas was true to his word and had begun loading the ponies into a custom, miniaturized horse trailer attached to a shiny black pick-up. The Buckhorn Ranch emblem of two battling rams had been stenciled on both doors.
While settling the children into their daily routine of standing for the Pledge of Allegiance, stilling for a moment of silence and then getting out their printing paper to practice writing their new letter and number, she watched Dallas through the wall of windows overlooking the school’s front lawn.
Firmly, yet gently, he corralled the suddenly stubborn animals into their temporary home. With Henry’s help, Dallas soon had all of the cupcake liners and white bakery boxes in the trash, leaving the area looking untouched save for sneaker tracks trailing through silvery dew.
Josie’s students fidgeted and fussed. Too hyper from cupcakes and fun to want to settle into their routine. The childlike part of her she didn’t often let escape sympathized with them. Outside, it was shaping up to be a beautiful fall day. She had dreaded Dallas’s visit, but was now surprised to be anticipating his return to the room.
“YOU DO KNOW YOUR CIRCUS broke about sixteen school rules?”
Dallas took another bite of his ham and swiss sandwich and shrugged. “Way I see it, my girls need to know I’m not here to punish them. I want them and their friends to be happy I’m in for a visit.”
Josie Griffin pressed her full lips together like there was a whole lot she wanted to say, but was holding back.
“Out with it,” he coaxed, biting into a pear. It was the first one he’d had in a while. Firm, yet juicy and sweet. Kind of like he’d imagine kissing Josie would be—that is, if she’d ever erase her pucker.