Taking on Twins, page 4
“What do you suggest?”
She tried to think of an activity that would entertain the Pfitser children while keeping them out of trouble. “Do the kids like riding bikes?”
“I…don’t know.”
That, thought Corrine, was a strange answer. Weren’t parents supposed to know those things about their children? She observed Ben and Annie, who’d taken the cover off the leaf trap and were sticking their hands inside.
“We could ask them,” she prompted.
“Okay.”
Greg’s obvious hesitancy mystified her. Something was definitely a bit off with the Pfitsers.
Finally, he said, “Ben, Annie. Do you know how to ride bikes?”
They glanced up from what they were doing, leaves and pine needles clutched in their fists. Corrine couldn’t wait to see what Ben did with his prize or where he threw it.
“No,” he said.
Annie concurred by adding, “We’re not allowed to.”
“Not allowed?” Corrine spoke sharply and, she immediately realized, without thinking.
“They live with their mother in downtown Denver,” Greg said. “There aren’t any places to ride a bike.”
“Oh.” His explanation made sense, she supposed. Only why hadn’t he known that to begin with? “I guess we could take the golf cart.”
“Where to?”
Greg flashed her a smile that would have sent a rush of tingles skittering up a weaker woman’s spine. In Corrine’s case, there was only one tingle. But undeniably a tingle, much to her annoyance. She didn’t like finding Greg attractive, and liked his response to her even less.
“Around the rest of the ranch. Or there are some ruins not too far away.”
“Indian ruins?”
“An old burial ground, according to local legend. Two bodies were found there years ago and moved to the town cemetery.”
Greg grimaced, and Corrine couldn’t resist laughing. The man cleaned fish for a living. She wouldn’t have pegged him as having such a low “eww” factor.
In the span of a single heartbeat, his smile changed from sexy to positively lethal. It sent another of those annoying tingles dancing up her spine.
“That’s nice,” he said, and moved toward her slowly. Very slowly.
“What’s nice?” Dang, but he was tall. She willed herself not to back up a step.
“You laughed. I was pretty sure you had it in you, but then—”
Whatever he’d intended to say was cut short by a high-pitched scream, followed by a loud splash.
Annie had fallen in the pool.
Greg started running.
So did Corrine. “Can she swim?”
“I don’t know.”
Corrine didn’t have time to absorb his remark and wonder, yet again, why he didn’t know basic information about his own children.
Annie’s head broke the surface of the water near the edge of the pool. Good thing. Greg had looked ready to jump in and save her. He knelt and reached an arm down, easily hauling her out of the water and setting her on the deck.
The instant she caught her breath, she started crying.
“It’s okay.” Greg awkwardly patted her back. “You’re fine now.”
“I’ll get a towel.” Corrine hurried through the pool gate and around the corner to the sauna. Removing a ring of keys from her belt loop, she opened a locked storage cupboard. The towels were thin and scratchy, but Annie probably wouldn’t care.
Corrine returned quickly to the scene of the crime and held out the towels to Greg. He’d carried his daughter to one of the nearby patio chairs and sat with her on his lap. Ben stood off to the side, shifting uneasily. An unpleasant suspicion began to form on the fringes of Corrine’s mind.
“Thanks,” Greg said. He wrapped a towel around Annie’s shoulders and placed another across her legs. “What happened, honey?”
She pointed a shaky finger at her brother and sobbed. “He pushed me.”
Greg stared at his son, shock registering on his face. “Did you push your sister in the pool?”
“No.”
“Liar!” Annie glared at him.
“Ben. Tell the truth.” Greg’s voice, though firm, remained calm and casual.
Corrine was astounded. If Ben were her son, she’d be giving him one very big piece of her mind.
“She put leaves in my hair.” He brushed a hand over the top of his head. Bits of debris fell like rain onto his shirt.
“That’s no reason to push her. She could have been seriously hurt.”
Ben pouted.
“Now, tell your sister you’re sorry.”
Annie tugged on the ends of the towel, her expression smug.
Corrine stepped aside, giving Greg privacy to discipline his errant progeny.
“Ben.” He raised his brows expectantly.
“I’m not sorry.” The child stuck out his lower lip.
“I think you are.”
Corrine didn’t envy Greg, having dealt with her share of disciplinary problems in the service. Being firm, standing strong, especially when it involved the safety of others, was imperative. It hadn’t always been easy for her, and she’d made plenty of mistakes.
One of them costly.
“Okay, Ben.” Greg set Annie on her feet and adjusted her towel. “If you don’t apologize, then I guess we don’t have to go horseback riding.”
The boy remained stubborn.
“Okay. Have it your way.”
“What about me?” Annie demanded. “Don’t I get to go riding?”
“Well, you put leaves in his hair. That wasn’t right, either.”
“Not fair.” Her face crumpled. Corrine worried she might start crying again.
“We’ll talk about this later. Come on, son.” Greg motioned to Ben, then said to Corrine, “Can you take us back in the golf cart?”
She left them and walked the short distance to the main lodge, grinding her teeth the entire way and reminding herself she wasn’t a parent, children weren’t soldiers and she shouldn’t be critical of Greg. But gut instinct told her that while his intentions were good, he hadn’t handled the situation well.
After borrowing the keys from Natalie, Corrine drove the golf cart to the pool. Greg loaded the children into the rear seat. They were sullen and quiet all the way to the Pfitser cabin. So was Corrine.
She came to a stop in front of the unit. “If you change your mind, there’s a trail ride leaving at three o’clock.”
Greg helped the children out. “I thought we were going to the ruins.”
“We can.” Corrine had foolishly hoped to be done with her tour guide duties.
“Daddy, can I unlock the door?” Annie jumped up and down in place. “Please, please.”
He reached into his pocket and removed the cabin key. “Here.”
The two kids raced up the path, laughing and shouting as if the last thirty minutes had never happened. Greg didn’t follow them.
“What’s wrong?” He propped a foot on the running board of the golf cart. “Nothing.”
“Come on.” His mouth curved into that much too potent grin of his.
“Really.” She stiffened her spine. No tingle. Not now.
“Are you upset about what happened at the pool?”
Shut up, Corrine. Don’t say a word. He’s our special guest and will bring a lot of business to the ranch.
“Of course not.”
“Okay.” He removed his foot. “We’ll only be a few minutes.” He started to walk away.
“It’s just that pushing someone in the pool is dangerous.”
He stopped and turned. “I know.”
“And against the rules.”
“Okay.” His grin faded.
It was like some evil demon had invaded her and taken over her brain, forcing her lips to form the words. No, not a demon. A warrant officer. The one used to people behaving responsibly and putting safety first.
“What if we hadn’t been right there? Annie could have drowned.”
“But we were right there.”
“Ben broke the rules. He should be…” Corrine caught herself an instant before crossing the line.
“Punished?” Greg finished for her. “He is. We’re not going horseback riding.”
But they were going to the ruins. “That’s not what I was going to say.”
He didn’t look as if he believed her. In fact, he looked perturbed.
“I can talk to Ben if you’d like,” she offered. “He might listen better to a stranger.”
“I don’t like,” Greg said tersely. “And I don’t like you butting into my personal business.”
“It’s your personal business as long as it doesn’t affect this ranch.”
“At which point it becomes yours?”
“I am one of the owners.” Her voice rose dangerously high.
His remained level. “My son isn’t a danger to your guests. He and his sister quarrel, just like most siblings.”
A vision of Jake’s angry face filled Corrine’s mind. She conceded that she might have overreacted, and tried for a more conciliatory approach with Greg. “I’m only looking out for everyone’s well-being, including yours and your children’s.”
“Funny, I thought for a second you were trying to tell me how to be a good parent.”
As much as Corrine disagreed with Greg’s soft-handed approach when it came to dealing with Ben and Annie, she would do what was best for her family, and making nice with him fell smack-dab in the middle of that category. Luckily, he would be gone in six weeks.
“Please…excuse me.” The words stuck in her throat before she finally choked them out. “I’m used to contending with soldiers. Most of them male. I have a tendency to shout.”
“Well, I refuse to shout. I don’t believe it accomplishes anything.”
The revelation didn’t surprise her.
“I particularly don’t shout at my kids.” He stepped away from the golf cart. “And I expect you, and everyone else here, to respect my wishes and do the same.”
With that, he ambled away.
Corrine sat with her hand on the steering wheel. Civilian life, she mused, would be so much easier if it mimicked the Army. Then, she wouldn’t be in a constant quandary about what to do or say.
HORSEBACK RIDING. Why hadn’t Greg thought of it before?
He’d relented after Ben apologized to Annie, and for over an hour at the stables, his kids had been enthralled, occupied and, most importantly, behaving. Despite having no experience, they’d immediately gotten the hang of guiding their mounts along the rugged mountain trail, which was more than Greg could say for himself. His horse walked when it should have stood still, trotted when it should have walked, and went left when it should have gone right.
“Daddy, I’m hungry.” Annie twisted sideways in the saddle to peer back at him.
How did she do that without falling off?
“You’ll have to wait until dinner,” he said, trying to untangle the reins from between his fingers. His horse cranked its large head around to give him the eye. “Yeah, yeah, I suck at this,” he grumbled under his breath.
“I can’t wait until then,” Annie complained.
“Okay. Maybe they have a vending machine at the stables.” His finicky daughter wanted to eat? Amazing. What other miracles could this horseback riding produce?
He considered asking the wranglers if there were any day-long rides available, and then realized he’d probably be required to go, too. So much for sneaking in some uninterrupted fishing time. And besides, his butt couldn’t take another ride. Any longer in the saddle and he’d be standing for a solid week.
Greg wasn’t so inexperienced that he hadn’t realized young children required adult supervision, and that he couldn’t always provide it. He just hadn’t anticipated how difficult it would be to hire a nanny, one willing to drive to the ranch and start at five in the morning. The agency he’d contacted before coming had failed to live up to their guarantee. He’d be more than willing to try elsewhere, if there was an elsewhere to try. Payson, the closest town, was small and didn’t have a lot of resources.
Corrine had mentioned contacting Jake’s assistant, Alice. Maybe he should. Being aggravated with Corrine was no reason to ignore good advice.
“Daddy, we’re here.”
“I see.” Greg almost cried with relief.
Their horses, along with everyone else’s, meandered into the open area in front of the barn and made straight for the hitching post. No one needed to tell them the ride was over. Twenty or so guests had gone on this particular trail ride, including a few children around Ben’s and Annie’s age. Once again, the wheels in Greg’s mind began to spin. If he could round up some playmates for his kids…
He’d no sooner dismounted—an impossible feat without the help of a wrangler—when his cell phone rang. It worked only intermittently around the ranch, and he’d almost forgotten he’d brought it with him. Digging the phone out from his shirt pocket, he checked the caller ID before putting it to his ear. “Hello.”
“It’s four-fifteen. Where have you been?”
There was no mistaking the chalk-on-a-blackboard voice. “I’m fine, Irene. And how are you?”
“Annoyed. I’ve been calling you for hours.”
“We were on a trail ride, if you can believe it.” Greg hobbled over to the corral fence. Sometime during the ride the bones in his legs had turned to sawdust.
“Why aren’t you fishing?” She sounded in a panic, as usual.
“That’s a good question, for which I have a good answer.”
He and his agent were polar opposites. She was intense, energized and a workaholic, whereas Greg was low-key, laid-back and, as the bio on his book cover stated, recreated for a living. The partnership shouldn’t have worked, but it did. Wonderfully. Irene carefully and intelligently guided his career, which had skyrocketed the last few years. He, in turn, had put her agency on the map.
“Yoo-hoo! Greg?” Irene said.
“Sorry. I was watching Ben and Annie.”
Her voice softened. “How’s that going?”
“Not as easy as I would like.”
“Give it time, hon. And don’t push. They’ll come around eventually.”
“What about me?”
“We aren’t born being good parents. We learn. You will, too.”
Greg wasn’t so sure. He’d had such a lousy example in his father. His mother had tried her best, but being married to a tyrant had left her with very little emotion and stamina for Greg. He understood that now. As a child, he’d resented her almost as much as he had his father.
“Your crew is arriving tomorrow afternoon.” Irene’s reminder brought Greg back to the present. “Tell me you’re ready for them.”
“Not exactly.”
“What’s the holdup?”
“Two five-year-olds.” His attention returned to Ben and Annie. The bones in their legs were functioning just fine, and they ran around in front of the barn, playing a game of tag.
Was it an age thing?
Impossible. He was only thirty-three. Hardly over the hill.
“I understand getting to know and connecting with your children is important. But we do have a contract. And besides all that lovely money, there’s a schedule to keep.”
“I know, I know. I’ll call you tomorrow.” He disconnected after saying good-bye and went in search of Ben and Annie. They were reluctant to leave, and his legs weren’t steady enough to give a decent chase. Before his patience ran out, he stopped and waited in the middle of the open area, counting to ten. Then fifty.
Jake Tucker came out of the barn. Corrine was with him, along with a trio of young girls, one of whom Greg thought he’d met the previous night at dinner.
“How was your ride?” Jake asked.
“Great. The kids had a blast.”
“What about you?”
“I admit I’m better sitting on a riverbank than in a saddle.”
Jake laughed, then said, “You remember my oldest daughter, Briana.”
“I do. Nice to see you again.”
“And these are my other daughters, Kayla and LeAnne. Their baby sister’s at home.”
“You have four girls, too?” Corinne was one of four sisters.
“It runs in the family.” Jake chuckled good-naturedly. “Briana was just elected captain of her high school equestrian drill team. She and her sisters were setting up for practice tomorrow.”
“Congratulations.”
Smiling at the girls, Greg sneaked a sideways glance at Corrine, who he’d turned his back on just a couple hours ago. “Thanks for the tour earlier.”
“Can I drive you back to your cabin?” Her offer, while polite, wasn’t exactly from the heart.
“Thanks, but what I really need to do is scout the creek for fishing spots.” He glanced at his watch and noted he had about two hours of daylight left. “My crew’s arriving tomorrow afternoon, and we start shooting the day after. But I’m not sure my legs are up to a hike.”
“Corrine will take you in the cart.” Jake inclined his head at his cousin.
“I’d be happy to,” she said, her jaw hardly moving.
If that was happy, he hated to think what miserable looked like.
“You know—” Greg began, then stopped. “I’ll take a rain check if you don’t mind. The kids aren’t crazy about fishing, and I can’t leave them alone.”
“Maybe Briana will babysit for you.” Jake nudged his daughter forward with the subtlety of a bull elephant. “She has a lot of experience.”
“Really?” Greg suddenly saw a bright light shining at the end of the tunnel. “Would you?” he asked the teenager. “If it’s not an imposition. I’ll pay, of course.”
“Sure. I’ll take them to dinner and then hang out with them in the game room until you get back.”
Greg would have dropped to his knees in gratitude had he been able to rise again without a hand up.
After informing the kids of the change in plans, he sped off with Corrine in the golf cart.
“Do you know where we’re going?” he asked about ten minutes into the trip, every one of them spent in silence.
“More or less. The fishing’s better on the south leg of the creek.” Each bend they rounded took them farther away from the ranch and deeper into the woods.
