“Go see,” Bea said, gesturing at the petting zoo a quarter mile up from the main barn. The gleaming yellow barn with its white trim had several enclosed pastures for the animals, the goats and sheep grazing. Their two alpacas were in their own large area, as were the six ponies. “I wanted it to be a surprise for opening day,” she added with a big smile. “I checked in with Daisy a couple days ago—she said you’d love it.”
Oh hell. A couple of days go, everything was very different than it was today. A couple of days ago, he was someone’s father. Now he wasn’t. “Well, thanks in advance,” he said, knowing Bea’s heart was in the right place. “That was sweet of you, whatever it is.”
He glanced at Sara, who smiled at Bea, and then they headed up the path to the yellow barn. Inside, the top half doors open to bring in the light and fresh air, the floors freshly swept and the pens recently cleaned, his attention immediately fell on a large sign handwritten in colored chalk on the wall of the barn: the Annabel Dawson Petting Zoo Barn. The sign listed rules of the barn. Not to feed the animals inside the barn. Not to enter the corrals. To wash hands before leaving. That was listed three times to stress its importance.
He glanced at Sara. She was staring at the sign, her expression...tense.
Annabel Dawson.
“Bea didn’t know,” he said quickly. “Nor did Daisy a couple days ago when Bea checked in with her. It’s just chalk. It’s easy to erase Dawson and write in Mayhew. Or we can just erase the whole thing.”
Since you won’t be here long anyway.
She reached a hand to Annabel’s head in the sea-foam-green cotton cap, her shoulders slumping. “I keep forgetting how hard this must be for you,” she said, turning to face him. “She’s been your daughter for almost two months. A Dawson like the sign says. Now here I come, erasing her last name on her specially named barn. Talking about leaving one day.” She stared down at the ground.
Right? he wanted to say. Smugly. Honestly.
Ragingly.
Until he thought about what she’d been through the past two months.
His phone pinged with a text, and he was grateful for the interruption, because what the hell was there to say about all this? The truth was what it was, and Sara had been through hell. Potentially losing Annabel to her rightful parent—and distance—was nothing compared to what Sara had had to deal with, what she could have believed her whole life.
He pulled out his phone. The text was from Carly, the receptionist and gate greeter.
Four guys who look like you just drove up and are heading toward the welcome shed at the gate.
What? Four guys who looked like him sounded like his brothers, but there was no way they’d be at the gate.
Yup, I called it, Carly added. They said they’re your brothers, here to see you.
Whoa.
He pocketed his phone in what felt like slow motion, his brain not quite catching up. “I can’t believe I’m actually about to say this, but my brothers are here.”
“Wow,” Sara said, her expression brightening. “Didn’t you say they all refused to step foot back here?”
He nodded. “Wonders never cease.” That rolled off his tongue, but nothing was truer in his life right now than that old adage.
“You go meet them, Noah. I’ll take myself on the tour. I know my way around, even if things have changed.”
Things had changed, but not the basic paths, and Sara knew those walkways and trails, including the ones that led into the woods, with her eyes closed. Plus, he had no doubt she needed a little space right now. From him.
“I’ll just need to get the double stroller from the cabin.”
“No need to walk back there. See that shed?” he asked, pointing out the half door. “I keep a lot of different supplies in there, including for Annabel. There’s an infant stroller. I can put Chance in and you can take him on the tour with Annabel in the Snugli.”
“Is there anything you don’t think of?” she remarked.
He glanced at her, catching the surprise in her eyes, her tone.
“Not anymore. It’s my business to think of everything.”
She half smiled and they headed over to the shed, where he took out the stroller, diaper bag attached.
“You really do have this parenthood thing down,” she said, staring into the diaper bag. “Pacifier, wipes, a changing mat, diapers. A bottle, bottled water and a small container of formula.”
“I worked at it.” Harder than I ever worked at anything, even rebuilding the ranch.
She held his gaze for a moment, and he couldn’t read her expression, so he took Chance out of the front pack and put him in the stroller, not a peep out of him. He unstrapped the Snugli and folded it in the stroller’s basket.
“If you need me,” he said, “just text or call, and I’ll be wherever you are in a heartbeat.”
She held his gaze again, and he still couldn’t read her. She nodded. “Go see your brothers. We’ll be fine.”
As he watched her continue up the path toward the guest cabins and the creek beyond, he couldn’t move. And suddenly it didn’t just feel like Annabel was moving away from him with every step, but all three of them.
His phone pinged again—Carly at the welcome shed. They said they’d meet you at the farmhouse.
He turned and headed in the other direction, forcing himself not to turn around to watch Sara and the twins get farther away.
Focus on your brothers, he told himself. Hadn’t Ford said hell would freeze over before he’d come back to the ranch? Hadn’t Rex said he was done with the place to the point that it bugged him to think about Noah getting it back up and running?
They were here, and that was all that mattered.
Same with Sara and the twins.
* * *
As Ford—who as oldest still declared himself in charge of the grill—put the perfectly cooked steaks on a platter, Noah glanced around at his four brothers and sister sitting around the patio table in the backyard, unable to believe the Dawson guys were really here. They’d spent the first half hour making small talk and catching up a bit, then Ford had gotten busy cooking. Apparently, the siblings had planned the surprise visit to the ranch a week ago, so they’d shopped in town for a pre–opening night celebratory dinner involving New York strips, baked potatoes, asparagus and craft beer.
Surprise didn’t begin to describe how Noah felt. Shock was more like it.
But here they all really were. Ford. Axel. Rex. Zeke. And Daisy, who he was used to seeing, of course, but he certainly didn’t take her being here for granted. When he’d first arrived at the farmhouse and seen his five siblings in the yard, he’d gotten all emotional and had to take a moment. Now, they were yakking like they saw each other all the time; it was always like that when they finally did get together.
Despite having three mothers among them, the siblings looked a lot like. They had varying shades of brown hair, some very dark like Axel’s and some almost blondish like Daisy’s, and they all had their father’s clear blue eyes. The six of them were tall, including his sister, who was five foot nine. Everyone always said it was lucky she got the tall gene too because standing up to five brothers, four of whom were older, was easier when she at least reached their chins.
Ford was from their dad’s first marriage, which apparently had lasted two months before his mother found Bo Dawson cheating not once or even twice but three times and finally left, then discovered she was pregnant, dropping off little Ford every other weekend for years. Axel, Rex and Zeke were from the second marriage to one of the other women who’d left hard-living Bo for the reliable, friendly mail carrier, whom Bo had tried to beat up but had been too drunk and ended up punching himself out. Axel, Rex and Zeke had all been too young and small to carry him inside, so they covered him with a few sleeping bags and put a bag of frozen peas on his purple-and-black eye and let him s
leep it off.
Noah and Daisy were from Bo’s third attempt at marriage, which lasted until their mother died in a car accident when Noah was nine. He’s trouble, but he’s my trouble, their mom would say, thinking she had the smarts, sense, work ethic and financial savvy to manage both their lives and their children’s, so she could be with the man she loved, despite his flaws. She’d been kind to the four older kids too when they’d come for their visitation. Daisy had once told Noah she thought their mom was romantic and half-crazy, that she’d never be so reckless with herself. Anyway, after their mother’s death, Bo had gotten a vasectomy, and word among the women who hung out in the sticky-floored bars he liked to frequent was that he carried around a letter from his doctor confirming he’d had the procedure so that no one could pin a pregnancy on him. A good-looking man, tall and lanky with an easy smile and flirtatious manner, he still managed to bring home lots of women, who never stuck around long. The Dawson name still carried weight in those days.
“I thought you said something about hell freezing over,” Noah said to Ford as they all got busy digging into the plates and bowls on the table, thanks to Ford, who’d nixed their offers of help with dinner. Ford had always been the Dawson who could do anything and everything—from cooking to wrangling troublemakers—he was a police officer out in Casper.
“Well, it kind of did,” Ford said. “Daisy let us know that not only were all renovations on schedule and according to plan, but that the place looked even better than it did when Gram and Gramps ran it. And that you pulled it off with a baby strapped to your chest the past two months. Tipping my hat to you, Noah.”
The praise felt good. “Well, a little determination and all your help, and the Dawson Family Guest Ranch is back.”
“Our help?” Axel repeated, heaping butter on his baked potato. “What did we do, Noah? You did it on your own.” A search and rescue worker, Axel had always had big expectations for the word help. He spent his days and nights rescuing the lost and injured from area mountains. His most recent mission—involving a toddler whom he’d eventually found and reunited with his mother—had almost done him in.
“Um, he had our financial help,” Rex pointed out with a grin. What Rex did for a living to have helped so much in that department was anyone’s guess. He clearly had money and liked nice things, so he did something, but he’d always been cagey about it. Noah and Daisy used to joke that he was a CIA agent. For all they knew, he could be.
“And Daisy was here,” Noah added, twisting the cap off his beer. “I had her help too.”
Daisy raised her sparkling water. “Sometimes I think about how if you hadn’t found a baby on your porch, I might still be in Cheyenne.”
“Speaking of daddies,” Ford said, eyeing Daisy. “You ever going to tell us who the father is?”
She frowned just slightly, and Noah could see how conflicted she was about the guy. “The two of us are talking again. We weren’t when I first found out I was pregnant. So let me see how things go, and then maybe I’ll introduce him. Maybe I won’t ever get the opportunity. We’ll see.”
“Sounds complicated,” Rex said. “You need to sic your brothers on him, you say the word.”
Daisy’s eyed widened, then she grinned. “Why do you think he’s still anonymous?”
There was some reminiscing about the times they did face down any guy who’d dared mess with their little sister. Even Noah, two years younger, but closer to Daisy than any of the Dawsons, had been protective of her.
“Well, speaking of babies,” Zeke said, turning to Noah, “when do we get to meet our little niece? Who’s watching her right now?” Zeke, second oldest, was the businessman of the bunch, a corporate cowboy who wore suits with boots and was never without a black Stetson; in fact, he wore one right now. Noah had been in touch with Zeke the most of all his siblings besides Daisy, since every month he sent Zeke his ranch ledgers, and every month Zeke sent back a satisfying: I’m impressed. You know what you’re doing on all levels, kid bro.
Noah took a swig of his beer. “That’s kind of complicated too.”
“Which part?” Ford asked in his cop tone.
“After dinner, you’ll hear the whole story,” he said, glancing around at all of them. “And meet Annabel.”
He was about to add and her twin brother, but that would pause forks and beer bottles and require immediate explanation. As he’d walked up to the house to meet his brothers just an hour and a half ago, he’d texted Sara to ask how she wanted to handle said explanation, and she said she’d like to come over for dessert, twins in tow, and tell the story on her own terms.
There were some raised eyebrows and shrugs and everyone resumed eating. Daisy sent him an encouraging nod. For the next fifteen minutes they talked about the guest ranch’s bookings; Noah had a solid lineup of guests coming all summer and into fall, and Zeke said he had no doubt word of mouth would fill out the empty cabins along the way. All the brothers agreed the place looked great, that the more modern aesthetic—rustic-luxe spa meets dude ranch—would appeal to a wider range of people, and it had. Noah had stormed the offices of every small and big newspaper in the county—the daily and the free weeklies—with press releases Zeke had helped him write from afar and photos as soon as prime spots were camera ready, like the cabins. The Dawson Family Guest Ranch 2.0 had gotten solid press, and the phones started ringing with bookings. People remembered the place—many locals and those spread around the state had spent their family vacations at the ranch, so that had also worked in its favor.
“Well, let’s eat up so we can meet Annabel and hear this complicated story,” Ford said, eyeing Noah. Again, cop face. Nothing got by Ford Dawson. Noah knew his older brother had long felt responsible for his younger siblings, living with them only part-time growing up, and now at a distance of hours.
Luckily Noah had already finished his steak and a heap of the roasted asparagus in garlic butter, his favorite vegetable. Because his appetite was shot.
* * *
“Hey, is that Sara Mayhew?” Rex asked as he and Ford came out the sliding glass doors to the back patio with three kinds of pie for dessert.
Noah turned and shielded his eyes from the glare of the sun, just beginning to make its descent. Sara was coming up the path from the foreman’s cabin, wheeling the double stroller. She wore a long black sundress and sandals, a straw hat on her head, her silky brown hair in a braid down one shoulder. She looked like a vision and he could barely take his eyes off her.
“Sara Perry, right?” Zeke corrected. “I occasionally saw photos of her and Willem Perry in the society pages of the Converse County Gazette. Once I ran into them at a fund-raiser and hugged Sara hello, and Willem practically grabbed her away from me. I’m surprised he didn’t take a swing at me.” He tilted his head. “I read he died in a car accident a couple months ago. Is Sara okay?”
Noah glanced around at the shocked expressions, barely hearing the murmurings of “how awful” and “he was so young” and “poor Sara.” None of them knew Willem the way he and Sara did—Sara most of all, of course—because the three of them had been the same age, had come up in school together. “She’ll be okay,” Noah said, offering her a smile as she got closer.
As Sara arrived on the patio, the group got up to say hello and offer condolences. She handled that well with brief thank-yous and nods, accepted their hugs, and then conversation thankfully turned to oohs and ahhs about the babies.
And then, from Ford, his focus on the twins: “So who’s who? I assume one is Noah’s daughter and one is yours, Sara?”
“Actually, they’re both mine,” Sara said, adjusting the sun shade on the stroller so the Dawsons could get a better look. “Annabel and Chance are twins.”
“Wait,” Axel said. “Daisy told us Noah found Annabel abandoned on his porch in the middle of the night—right before a major rainstorm.” As a search-and-rescue specialist, those detai
ls would be foremost in his mind. “Since I’d have a hard time believing you left your daughter like that, there has to be a story here.”
Four sets of blue eyes turned to Sara, then Noah. Daisy already knew the details, of course, but even she was staring at Noah.
“There is,” Noah says. “And it’s ugly. I’ll let Sara tell it,” he said, sitting down. The brothers took his solemn cue and all sat back down at the table.
“Why do I think we’re going to need whiskey for this?” Rex asked, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest.
“It’s as ugly as Noah says,” Sara began and then launched into the story.
The expressions on his brothers’ faces said it all.
“Wish I could arrest the bastard,” Ford said, shaking his head. “I’ve seen a lot in my time on the force, but this?” Disgust was palpable on his face. “Have you spoken to police about the midwife’s actions?”
“Not yet,” Sara said. “Willem’s lawyer did a little digging for me after we found out what Willem—and she—had done. She officially retired the next day.”
“How are you planning on handling that?” Ford asked.
“I’d like to pay the midwife a visit,” Sara said. “I know there’s no excuse for what she did, given her job, her responsibility to her patient and the baby she was hired to help deliver. But I also know that Willem threatened her and that he had something on her. I’ll plan on seeing her in the next couple weeks. I’ve just got a lot to focus on right now.”
“If you need help or an escort for the visit, you let me know,” Ford said.
“I will. And thank you.”
“You know what I can’t stop thinking about?” Daisy said. “How lucky it was that Noah actually heard Annabel’s cries at two in the morning outside his window. He’s always been a light sleeper. A herd of buffalo couldn’t wake me up.”
“Oh, trust me, one tiny peep out of your little one and you’ll be bolting up,” Sara assured her. “Mother radar is strong stuff.”
For the Twins' Sake Page 9
