For the Twins' Sake

by Melissa Senate

  “I feel like I was getting my groove back, and now here he comes, throwing everything up in the air again. I feel so off balance.”

  Sara nodded. “Factoring someone else in when you need to keep yourself steady isn’t easy. I know that for sure. Want to know what else I know for sure?”

  “What?” Daisy asked.

  “Our kids are going to be besties raised together,” she said.

  Daisy brightened. “Instant BFFs.”

  Sara nodded. They both drank their waters and settled back.

  “Does that mean you’re going to marry Noah?” Daisy asked.

  Huh. Maybe it did. “I decided that when I wake up tomorrow, the retreat over, I’ll know. At least, I think I’ll know.”

  Things between her and Noah had been a little odd the past several days. They’d kept to their routine with the twins, which worked really well, but she constantly had the feeling he was trying to figure something out about her. The way he’d listen—hard—when she spoke, narrowing his eyes as if working to figure out some hidden meaning.

  “Don’t keep me in suspense,” Daisy said. “Promise.”

  She and Daisy had gotten so close. Sara didn’t know what she’d do without her friendship. “Pinkie swear,” she said, wrapping her little finger around Daisy’s.

  Daisy’s phone pinged. She took it from her pocket and frowned. “Uh-oh. It’s a text from Connie Freedman. Tabitha Corey seems to be missing. She didn’t show up for a scheduled activity and she’s not in her cabin. Connie said she did a brief search on horseback in all the usual places Tabitha seemed to like to go but couldn’t find her. Connie’s worried about her state of mind since she skipped the talk and dinner last night too.”

  Sara bolted up. “I’ll let Noah know right away. You stay here so you can be a ground support for Connie and the other participants. We’ll find her.”

  Daisy nodded but looked worried.

  Sara rushed off toward the foreman’s cabin, texting Noah along the way.

  * * *

  Sara walked the creek bank again, Noah about ten feet away doing a sweep of the area from the path through the woods. Dylan and Bea, two of the ranch hands, were also searching the grounds since they’d come to know the nooks and crannies so well. She and Noah had checked and rechecked all the usual places Tabitha might be. She hadn’t left the property, per the cameras by the gates on the road leading out of the ranch. The horse she’d been assigned, Nutmeg, was in her stall in the barn. All the bikes were accounted for too. Tabitha had gone off on foot.

  Where are you, Tabitha? she wondered, scouring in between trees and down the edging of the creek toward the water, praying she’d find her old friend sitting curled up. Noah had said they’d give it only another half hour, because it was possible Tabitha might be injured and unable to call for help, and he’d bring in the big guns—his brother Axel, the search-and-rescue expert, and his yellow lab, Dude, an expert tracker. They’d find Tabitha in no time.

  But Sara was 99 percent sure that Tabitha was safe and just hiding herself away because it was the final day of the retreat and she wasn’t ready to go home, hadn’t figured out what to do about her problems.

  She scoured the creek bank, straining to see in the sunny glare. Wait—was that movement? And a glint of something purple?

  Sara slowly inched forward, craning her neck. Yes! That was a hand. And a sparkly purple sneaker. Tabitha wore sparkly purple sneakers.

  She took out her phone and texted Noah. I think I see her! Yes, it’s her! Give me a little time. I’ll text you if she’s hurt and needs help. Otherwise I think we should just talk a bit.

  Okay, he texted back. I’ll let Daisy and Connie know she’s been found.

  Sara pocketed her phone, then softly called out, “Tabitha?”

  Tabitha didn’t turn around.

  “Can I sit beside you?” Sara asked.

  “’Kay,” came a teary voice.

  Oh God. What had happened?

  Sara approached where Tabitha was wedged between two big rocks, which now explained how they’d missed her on the first sweep. There was brush cover on both sides of the area she was sitting. Sara sat a good foot away, facing the same direction as Tabitha so the woman wouldn’t feel stared at or crowded or pressured.

  “Why do I have the feeling you came to a decision someone didn’t like?” Sara asked gently.

  Tabitha’s eyes were teary. She lifted her head and leaned it back against the rock. “I called Philip about an hour ago and told him I was very sorry but that I couldn’t marry him. I was honest and told him I cared about him but felt pressured into the engagement by him and my parents but that it wasn’t what I wanted.”

  “Oh wow. How’d he take it?”

  “He was upset, but in the end he said he admired my courage and wished me well. And he hung up.”

  “So why are you so upset?” Sara asked. Then she realized Tabitha must have called her parents next and told them her news.

  “I called my mom afterward. It was so hard to make that call. But I explained that I didn’t love Philip and I hated to disappoint her but I had to do what feels right to me.”

  “Good for you!” Sara said—despite knowing full well her mother must have come down hard on her.

  “I thought so. I felt so proud that I was standing up for myself and my future. And I believed, really believed, that I’d come first with my mom, you know? That she’d care more about me and how I feel than about appearances. Well, she didn’t.” She dropped her head onto her arms and sobbed.

  “Oh, Tabitha, I’m so sorry.” Sara scooted over closer beside Tabitha and put her arm around the woman’s shoulders.

  Tabitha glanced up with a tear-streaked face. “My mom said marriage wasn’t about dumb lust and why did I think there was a 50 percent divorce rate. She said it was about partnership and well-matched couples building a future together.”

  Sara swallowed. Her own marriage to Noah would be a lot like the one Mrs. Corey described.

  “But how can I sacrifice my happiness like that?” Tabitha asked. “It doesn’t make any sense. It’s sick, is what it is. But now my parents probably won’t talk to me again.”

  Would Sara be sacrificing her happiness if she married Noah in this platonic arrangement? She would be happy feeling settled and secure. She would be happy living on the ranch. She would be happy that her twins would have a father, someone who loved them from the get-go.

  But she wouldn’t have a real marriage, the one she’d always dreamed of, the one Tabitha deserved, the one everyone deserved. Marriage with someone you loved and wanted to grow old with. Not a marriage that was first and foremost a business arrangement. Noah had her feeling so unsure about what he really felt, what he really wanted.

  “I love my parents,” Tabitha said. “I’ve never been able to handle when they’re upset with me. And now they probably will disown me.”

  No way. That was nuts. Because she didn’t want to marry the guy they thought she should? Because ending the engagement would cause a potential rift with their friends? “Do you really think so? They’ll cut you out of the family?”

  Tabitha could barely nod.

  “Well, hell, Tabitha. That’s not about love either. That’s about control, and it’s not fair. People who love and care about you and truly want the best for you don’t cut you out of their life for not marrying the guy they think is right for you.” Man, she was spitting mad. Sara felt like kicking something and shot up and did kick a small rock across the ground.

  Tabitha hugged her knees to her chest. “I guess I’m really on my own now. In one fell swoop, I lost my fiancé and my parents of my own free will.”

  “The fiancé, yes. Your parents, no. I think you should write your mother an email, Sara. Right now. Speak directly and honestly to her, tell her exactly how you feel and why and how brokenhearted you are.
You started on this path of honesty and being true to yourself. Continue on it. Your mother just might come around. And one parent is all you need to push the other.”

  Tabitha gave the smallest of shrugs. But Sara could see a glimmer of hope in her expression. “You think that might help?”

  “I do.”

  Tabitha stood up, as well. “I’ll go write it now.” She glanced around at the woods. “I know I got a bunch of texts that I ignored—a few were my parents yelling at me, so I shut off my phone. I’m sure you guys and Connie were worried about where I was. I’m sorry.”

  “All that matters is that you’re okay,” Sara said.

  Tabitha leaned over and hugged her. “Can we keep in touch after I leave tomorrow morning?”

  “Of course!” Sara said. “And any time you need to get away or a place to go, you come straight to the ranch.”

  Tabitha gave a shaky smile. “Thanks. I just might.”

  They headed up the path to the lodge. Connie and Noah were waiting out front, and Connie came over.

  “I’d love to talk a little if you’re not too tired or done for the day,” Tabitha said.

  Connie squeezed Tabitha’s hand. “How about over iced tea and really good cookies that I saved from dessert tonight?”

  Tabitha smiled, then turned to Sara. “Thank you again. For everything. I’ll see you in the morning to say goodbye?”

  “Definitely.”

  She watched as Tabitha and Connie headed toward Connie’s cabin, aware that Noah was walking over to where she stood by the directional sign.

  “She okay?” he asked.

  “She will be. She’s on her way.”

  “Good,” he said. “Ready to go home?”

  Home. God, yes. How she loved the sound of that word and that it applied to here. The ranch. Dawson’s. And the foreman’s cabin.

  She was home. But would she ever be truly settled?

  * * *

  It was pitch-dark when shrill cries woke Sara up. She glanced at her alarm—2:57 a.m. She couldn’t tell which baby it was, but someone was making a racket—and these were higher-pitched cries than normal. Something was wrong.

  Sara bolted out of bed and ran into the nursery to find Noah already there, lifting Chance out of his crib.

  “He’s really hot,” Noah said, concern in his eyes. He laid a finger to the baby’s forehead. “Very, very hot.”

  Sara put her own finger to Chance’s forehead and gasped. She ran for the thermometer in the bureau as Noah laid Chance down on the changing pad. Chance’s temperature read 103.2. “That’s way too high. I’m calling the pediatrician.” She rushed into her room to get her phone, grateful she had the doctor in her contacts. The service answered right away, despite the fact that it was almost three in the morning. She explained about Chance’s high fever and raspy breathing, and the service said the doctor on call would return her call as soon as possible. It took just a few minutes.

  She flew back into the nursery, where Noah was pacing, gently bouncing Chance in his arms, which didn’t affect the crying. And it usually did. “The doctor said the temperature was high enough that we should bring Chance to the ER since the fever is combined with fast breathing.” Sara’s eyes welled. She stood there, taking deep breaths, barely able to think.

  “I’ve got Chance,” Noah said. “Call Daisy and ask her to hurry over for emergency babysitting. It’s 3:00 a.m., but that’s what sisters are for.”

  Sara’s body unlocked; a mission she understood. She called Daisy, who assured her she’d be right over. A few minutes later, Daisy had arrived in her pajamas and flip-flops.

  Sara and Noah rushed out with Chance in his carrier. For the twenty minutes it took to get to the clinic, Chance was shrieking, his face ruddy and sweaty. A half hour after that, he’d been diagnosed with a common respiratory virus that had flared out of control. He’d be absolutely fine.

  Sara wasn’t, though. This was the first time one of the babies had gotten very sick. The panic she’d felt had taken over, and she’d appreciated the calm, cool and collected voice of Noah, giving instructions, knowing, somehow, what to do.

  Feeling safe in this world meant a lot of different things. Having her person, someone she could always lean on, count on, trust, was paramount to her, more so than she’d ever realized.

  That person was Noah.

  She needed to be practical, not hold out for something she’d stopped believing in.

  The answer to what she really wanted was summed up in how they’d operated tonight. They had been true partners.

  “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking this week,” she told him when they shut the door behind Daisy, who’d gone back to the main house. Chance was upstairs in his crib, sleeping comfortably now that he’d had medication to bring his fever down. Annabel would be staying in the bassinet in the living room for a couple days until Chance was more on the mend. “About what I really want. And what I want is for us to get married in the partnership you proposed.”

  That he liked what she said was evident in his expression. “We were a pretty good team tonight,” he said, shutting off the hall lights and heading for the stairs.

  She walked up beside him. “Exactly. We were. I panicked and you were calm, cool and collected. I needed help, and you were there. Daisy was there. I like having support. It’s vital.”

  “It is. And you can always count on me. Always.”

  “I believe that. Let’s go to the town hall once Chance is well enough. Probably even tomorrow.”

  At the landing, he took both her hands. “This is going to be the start of something great for both of us. Try to get some sleep.”

  “You too,” she said, walking across the hall to her room. “Good night.”

  He held her gaze. “Good night.”

  Back in bed, she pulled the quilt to her chin. In just a couple days, she’d be married. Noah Dawson would be her husband. Her life would be completely different than it had been a week ago.

  She was where she should be, making plans that would benefit everyone—her, Noah and the twins. Plus, Daisy would truly get to be Aunt Daisy instead of just an honorary aunt.

  She smiled and closed her eyes, but sleep eluded her. Nerves about marrying a man she had so much history with?

  So many what-ifs ran through her mind. She turned over and pulled the pillow over her head.

  She was marrying Noah Dawson. For her sake. For his sake. For the twins’ sake.

  She was marrying Noah Dawson because she loved him. She flipped off the quilt and got out of bed. Before she could stop herself, she walked out of her room and down the hall, and knocked on his door.

  “Come on in,” he said.

  Please mean that. In every sense.

  She opened the door and closed it behind her, which made Noah sit up in bed and stare at her.

  She walked over to the bed and sat beside him. Then kissed him. Then again. And again.

  Don’t stop this, she sent to him telepathically. Because if I’m marrying you, I’m marrying you right. With everything I feel.

  “You’re sure about this?” he asked, his blue eyes glinting with desire.

  “Very,” she said and kissed him again.

  “And it’s safe?” he asked. “Timewise?”

  “It’s safe,” she assured him.

  He peeled off her tank top, his hands all over her breasts. She watched him take in every inch of her bare torso and could feel him hardening underneath her. She took off his T-shirt and tossed it aside, and then he flipped her over and removed her yoga pants, leaving on her none-too-sexy pink-and-green granny panties with the little bow.

  “I think those are incredibly hot,” he whispered, hooking a finger at the waistband.

  She swallowed, her insides feeling like liquid heat. “I think you’re incredibly hot.”

 
In moments, his sweats joined her pants on the floor. He lifted up over her, bracing himself on his elbows, staring down at her, kissing her, his hands in her hair, on her breasts, her shoulders, moving down her stomach...

  She writhed underneath him, needing him so badly she couldn’t take it. His kisses trailed up her neck, then his mouth caught hers so passionately she heard herself moan. She was kissing his collarbone and chest as he reached into the bedside table and pulled out a condom, making quick work of putting it on.

  The moment he was inside her, all thought left her head and she only felt. I love you, I love you, I love you echoing in her head.

  She hadn’t forgotten how amazing Noah Dawson was in bed. He easily brought her to climax and then went wild to the point she was surprised the bed didn’t collapse. The Wild West every night? That was more than all right with her.

  And suddenly he was lying on top of her, kissing her neck, her cheek, breathing hard. “Oh, Sara. That was something.”

  “Yes, it was,” she said. “And I guess this means our arrangement will now need some modifying.”

  She felt him freeze. Crud.

  He turned onto his side. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, we just had sex, Noah. And we’re getting married tomorrow or the next day.”

  “I thought—” He clamped his lips together.

  Oh hell. “You thought what?”

  “I thought this was about tonight,” he said hesitantly. “About the culmination of a rough night. Our marriage is supposed to be—” Again the lips clamped down.

  “A platonic partnership,” she finished for him, the ice in her voice surprising even her.

  And clearly it surprised him, because his gaze swung to hers. “Sara, being platonic was your idea and a good one. A necessary one for me to make sure the marriage is a success. We need to be on the best path forward.”

  The best path forward? Good God. What self-help podcasts had he been listening to? Could he really want a platonic relationship at this point? Did he really not love her enough to make it work in all regards this time around?