Twins For Christmas

Hannah slid behind the wheel. “Can you behave?” she asked through the open passenger window. “This is a big race for me and, as you so graciously pointed out the other day, I need the money.”

“About that.” Noah climbed in and fastened his seat belt. “I was completely out of line.”

“Who told you I was racing today? Not that it was a secret, but I’m surprised you know—it was Avery, wasn’t it?”

He nodded. Hannah eased the truck onto the main road. Avery had wanted them to talk... Now they had the time. Alone. Away from prying eyes and prying ears. Suddenly the interior of her brother’s truck seemed extremely small. She became acutely aware of every breath Noah took. Every movement involving the left side of his body sent an electric twinge pulsating through her veins.

Oh! This can’t be happening.

“Why barrel racing?”

His question broke her thoughts. “Believe it or not, my mom used to be a champion barrel racer. I guess you could say it’s in my blood. What little girl doesn’t want to be like her mother when she’s growing up? Mom became my instructor and I fell in love with the sport and the lifestyle. The rodeo isn’t just about competing. It’s about family, too. Besides, I was always on a horse helping my dad round up our sheep.” Hannah glanced over at Noah, surprised to see him listening intently. “I told you the other day they used to raise sheep for wool. It had been lucrative until the economy took a dive and he was forced to sell their herd and the majority of their land. They married young—like seventeen young. I can’t even imagine getting married at twenty-four, let alone—Never mind. Long story short, he raised sheep and she raced horses. I don’t just compete, though. I also teach at the local rodeo school and I’m turning part of my land into an organic farm. Barrel racers don’t ride forever.”

“Okay, I get that organic farming is the rage right now, but it seems like an odd choice for a rodeo girl.”

“Not really. A good portion of competitors are raised on farms. One in seven working Texans is in some form of agriculture, which isn’t too surprising when you consider we have almost 250,000 farms in the state. Granted, my decision was a little more personal. Growing up, the doctors thought I had food allergies. My parents constantly had to rush me to the hospital because of something I had eaten. After countless tests, it was determined I was having reactions to the pesticides used on most of our food. So I studied agricultural science in college. I eat organic because I have to, but my goal is to educate others on the danger of pesticides and genetically modified foods. It takes three years and a lot of preparation before land can be classified as USDA certified organic. I’m in the fertilization stage, but I’ll get there. It takes time and dedication.”

“That’s commendable.” She glanced over at him and found him studying her. “You said you wanted to educate people. Do you mean teaching at a school?”

“More like a community garden for the grade school kids.” Hannah had more ideas for her land than she had acreage. “I’m planning high rotation crops, which means they’ll mature in sixty days or less. I’d like to give the school an acre or two so their students can gain hands-on experience with organic farming. Providing someone doesn’t get certified before me, I’ll be the first USDA certified organic farm in Ramblewood.”

“And you can do all of that and barrel race?”

“Not exactly. Once my farm is fully operational, then I’ll retire from racing and possibly teaching at the rodeo school. I’ll continue to train horses to barrel race, though. Right now, I spend the majority of my time practicing for my own races and training many of the horses I board. At least that’s what I was doing until the twins moved back in. My mom is super supportive and always around to help out.”

“What’s it like when you’re competing?” Noah asked. “It seems like a lot of work for such a short race.”

People had asked Hannah almost every question under the sun, but she couldn’t recall anyone ever asking her that one. “It’s my version of flying, only at a slower pace of forty miles an hour. Depending on the size of the arena, it’s about thirteen to fifteen seconds of freedom with my horse. We both place our absolute trust in one another to make the right decisions and follow them through. I guess you could call it a marriage of sorts, only there’s no spouse talking back to you.”

When Noah didn’t respond, she stole another glance in his direction. He was leaning partially against the door, smiling at her.

“Say something. I’m nervous enough about today’s race—don’t make it worse.”

“I sincerely hope I don’t make you nervous.” His voice sounded deeper and richer than it had moments before.

“Considering the situation we’re in, I’d have to say yes, you definitely do.” He made her nervous for other reasons she refused to admit. She felt guilty enough for feeling the slightest attraction to Noah Knight. Of all the men in the world, he was definitely the most off-limits.

“I haven’t followed a lot of barrel racing, but I’ve seen it on television. The way they make the turns around the barrels, it almost looks as if the horse is about to topple over on the rider. It has to be dangerous.”

“It’s not the safest sport, but it’s a lot safer than heli-logging. Have you thought about that at all? I’m not trying to start a fight with you, but the other day you told my dad you have one of the most dangerous jobs in the world, and I’d be remiss if I didn’t question how suitable a job it is for a single parent. They’ve already lost their mother. How fair would it be if they lost you, too?”

The cab instantly filled with tension. She would’ve been better off keeping her mouth shut until they both had a place to escape to.

“There are plenty of single parents with dangerous careers and the courts don’t take their children away.” Noah’s even tone surprised Hannah. She’d offended him and he was doing his damnedest to keep it together.

“I think you and I just came to our first mutual understanding. We’re actually concerned about each other’s safety—for the sake of the children.”

Her attempt to lighten the mood fell flat. She kept waiting for him to ask questions about Lauren or the girls, but he didn’t. If the situation had been reversed, he’d have to duct tape her mouth shut to get her to stop asking questions.

“What about you? What do you do when you’re not working?”

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