The Rancher's Wife by April Arrington Page A

silence lengthened and Amy’s heart ached at the awkward discomfort.
    Logan cleared his throat. “I’ll stay in one of the bunkhouses. You can have my room.”
    â€œThank you, Logan.” Amy rubbed her clammy palms over her pants legs and forced a smile. “Mama, how about I help you finish setting the table while Logan puts my bags up?”
    Betty’s face creased with relief. “Perfect. I’ll go get Cissy. It’s high time the two of you met.”
    â€œAnd I’ll round up the boys.” Pop winked as he left. “Lord knows where they are.”
    Amy started toward the kitchen, faltering when Logan gripped her arm.
    â€œYou’ve got to tell her about the move...”
    â€œI will.” Amy sighed, a sharp pain settling behind her eyes. “But I’m not going to spring it on her this second.” She rubbed her brow with her fingertips. “I’ll tell her later. At a better time. Let’s just have a pleasant dinner for now, okay?”
    She pulled away and headed down the hall. Her gut churned at the thought of telling her mother and sister about moving so far away. The last thing she wanted to do was upset anyone during her first visit home in ages. But, eventually, there’d be no way around it.
    The light aroma of cinnamon enveloped Amy as she entered Raintree’s large kitchen. She inhaled, pulling in a lungful of the familiar scent. A red platter piled high with cookies sat on the edge of the kitchen island and her mouth watered.
    Out of habit, Amy snuck a look over her shoulder at the empty doorway, half expecting Betty to spring into the room and shoo her away. As kids, she and Traci had never been successful at snagging a cookie before dinner without Betty pointing a finger and ushering them out. She smiled and made her way over to the cookies.
    She reached out and stopped, hand hovering in midair. Small, grubby fingers fumbled over the pile of sugar cookies. Mud-streaked fingertips curled around the edge of one and tugged it toward the edge of the plate.
    Amy leaned over and found the top of a blond head pressed below the edge of the counter. The head swiveled and deep blue eyes widened up at her in shock. She bit back her grin and narrowed her eyes, taking in his features. Could be Kayden. But the twins were so similar in appearance it was hard to be sure.
    â€œShhh,” the boy whispered. “Don’t tell.”
    â€œBoys.” A short woman with blond hair peeked around the door and leveled a stern expression across the room. “Stop that and get over here.”
    The boy jumped, his head banging into the edge of the counter. He jerked his hand from the cookies and several scattered to the floor. Another blond head shot up from the other side of the island. This one was definitely Kayden. He sported the same cavalier expression he’d displayed earlier when Logan had chastised him. The boys stood together, Jayden with a bowed head and Kayden with raised brows.
    â€œWhat’d we do, Aunt Cissy?” Kayden asked, a dab of red cinnamon icing smudged across his cheek.
    â€œYou know very well what you did,” she said. “Now, get those cookies up and go wash your hands. You’re about to eat supper.”
    The boys groaned but complied, gathering up the broken cookies and tossing them in the trash.
    The woman winced and shot Amy a rueful smile. “Sorry about that. Those two are always looking for trouble. You must be Amy. I’m so glad to finally meet you. I’m Cissy, Dom’s wife.”
    Cissy entered the kitchen, stepping carefully and pressing a palm to the blue sweater stretched across her heavily pregnant belly. Amy froze. Her eyes clung to the roundness of Cissy’s midsection and her arms drew in against the flat emptiness of her own. Weight dragged at her legs, rooting her to the floor.
    Amy swallowed hard and held out a shaky hand. Cissy covered it with both of hers. She was a tiny