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Callum spared another glance at the door to the advertising department before accepting her advice. “We’ve got to run damage control,” he said.

“Maybe we could add a few more finalists,” Tisa suggested. “So we have more to choose from.”

“That might only complicate matters.” They were pushing a tight deadline. The winner had to be posted on the site by the end of May, and it was already March. A write-up about her and her trip would provide a future cover story for the print edition of Family Voyager. “I’m sure we can find a suitable Mother of the Year from that list.”

Not the woman with the cat.” Tisa accompanied him down the hallway. “Some people may consider pets part of the family, but I doubt our advertisers do.”

“The readers will get a charge out of her, though.” Already Callum’s brain was making the best of things.

There was, however, one issue that he couldn’t erase from his mind: Jody Reilly and her boys. One sentence about the suitors stuck with him: They keep popping up under my nose, telling me that my four-year-old twins need a daddy.

If Jody wasn’t married, who was the father?

The timing looked suspicious. Five years ago, Callum and Jody had steamed up the windows of her bedroom. She’d amazed him with her unrestrained passion and he’d amazed himself with an all-night response that, he suspected, could have stretched much, much longer.

Was it possible she’d become pregnant from their encounter? Despite Jody’s fiercely independent nature, Callum couldn’t picture her keeping such a secret. Besides, he’d used protection when they made love. Well, the first time, anyway. After that, he didn’t remember.

No doubt she’d had plenty of other boyfriends before and since. In fact, during the days after the funeral when she helped him prepare his family’s old home for sale, he seemed to recall her mentioning that she’d recently broken up with someone. Perhaps they’d gotten back together later.

“Anyway, I’d make a lousy father,” he said aloud.

“What?” Tisa stopped outside the traffic department, the organizational arm of the magazine.

“Something just started me thinking,” he explained. “It’s a good thing I’m not a father, because I’d be lousy at it.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she said. “I’ll bet lots of ladies think you’ve got potential.”

“You know what I’m like on Take Your Kid to Work Day,” Callum said. “That’s the only day of the year when I shut my door.”

“You and me both.”

“I have no patience. I don’t even know how to talk to children.” Seeing the managing editor frown in confusion, he said, “Never mind. The problem is, we’ve got to get the women from my hometown to withdraw their applications.”

“I thought you said the readers would love the one with the cat,” Tisa said.

“Yeah, I did. But the other one…” Callum decided to be frank, because he didn’t know how to be anything else. “She’s my ex-girlfriend.”

“I see.” A smile played around the corners of Tisa’s mouth. “Around here, she’d have to stand in line.”

“Appearances can be deceiving.” Although Callum’s picture frequently appeared in print as he escorted models and actresses around L.A., mostly it was a mutually convenient setup in which the women landed a suitable escort while he made contacts for Family Voyager. It was true that some women had pursued him and a few times he’d pursued them, but there’d always been something missing. “Jody was the only one who counted.”

“I can see why there’s a conflict of interest,” Tisa said.

“Even if I disqualify myself from the selection process, there’d be the appearance of unfairness,” Callum said.

“You should call her and offer her an inducement to drop out,” Tisa said. “She might prefer a guaranteed trip to a one-in-ten chance at the grand prize. How about a stay at the Paris hotel in Las Vegas?”

At the mention of Vegas, an imaginary slot machine whirred into Callum’s head. A ticket pinged into place, followed by a second and then a third. They weren’t tickets to Nevada, though. They were tickets to Texas, and they were for him.

“I’m going to have to do this in person,” he said. Even though there was only the slightest chance that those boys belonged to him, it wasn’t the sort of situation he wanted to discuss long-distance.

“Now? There’s so much going on.”

“I’ll take my laptop and my modem,” he said. “Trust me, I’ll be completely plugged in.”

“This isn’t like you,” Tisa said.

“I’m always jumping on planes,” Callum corrected. “I’ll fly into the airport at San Angelo, hook up with a rental car and maybe scout some stories along the way. You know how I hate to waste time.”

“So it’s a working vacation?” The editor shrugged. “You’re the boss. Just don’t stay away long.”

“Do I ever?” It was a rhetorical question, but Tisa replied anyway.

“I hope not,” she said. “I’m good at my job, but we all need you.”

“Thanks.” The vote of confidence buoyed Callum.

The trip might not be so bad. The boys’ father would turn out to be lurking in the background, Jody was going to jump at the chance of a guaranteed trip to Vegas and Callum would be back in L.A. before he knew it.

“I KNOW ADOPTION CAN WORK. Give it a chance, Elsie.” Jody called all her cows Elsie on those occasions when she addressed them directly.

Elsie stood glumly in her stall, trying to ignore the calf pulling at her udder. The baby, called Half-Pint like all calves on the Wandering I, had been one of a pair whose mother didn’t have enough milk for two. Since Elsie had lost her own spring calf, Jody had decided to pair her off with Half-Pint.

Jody had a strong sympathy for babies and mothers. According to her forewoman, Gladys, it should take about two weeks for Elsie to bond.

“You’ll thank me for this,” Jody told the cow. “On the other hand, maybe you’ll turn out to be as stubborn as I am. Lots of people gave me advice, but did I take it? No. And I’m glad I didn’t.”

The prevailing sentiment in town had been that Jody Reilly was out of her mind to keep the twins. It had been tough enough standing up to the censure of those people who wanted to fire her from her teaching job for having loose morals.

Complicating matters had been her refusal to name the father. Some people had suspected her ex-boyfriend, Jim, a fellow teacher who, after he and Jody drifted apart, had decided to join the Peace Corps. Others suspected a blond cowboy who’d visited the school when he was in town with a traveling rodeo. In fact, Jody had discreetly spread a rumor about him herself. As far as she was concerned, she had a right to keep her personal business private.

Despite the gossip, she’d slowly put her life in order. Her mother had volunteered to baby-sit while Jody worked. Restaurant owner Ella Mae Nickerson had trumpeted the fact that many of the town’s other children had been born less than nine months after their parents’ weddings. Tongues had fallen silent after she threatened to post a list in her café window.

Four years later, the kids fit seamlessly among the youngsters at Sunday school. The same people who’d scowled at first now joked about the fact that she’d named the pair after their grandfathers without realizing that, together, Ben and Jerry could open their own ice-cream stand.

Leaving Elsie and Half-Pint in the stall, Jody strolled through the barn to a normally unused stall from which came the sound of barking. On this rainy Saturday, the boys were amusing themselves by playing with a mongrel puppy that had wandered onto the ranch a few days earlier, most likely abandoned on the highway. Jody always did her best to find homes for strays.

“Can we keep him, Mommy?” asked Benjamin. “We’re going to call him Lassie.”