by Ardy Kelly
He had grown a respectable close-cropped beard but it only highlighted the abundance of youthful collagen in his face.
His appearance explained why he no longer wanted to be called Robby, and why Troy couldn’t remember it.
He stepped toward Chet. “You must be David.”
“I’m Chet. This is David.” He put his hands on his fiancé’s shoulder.
Rob blushed. “Sorry. I heard Morehouses were exotic beauties.”
“He is,” Chet stated flatly.
Troy rolled his eyes. “We’re going to have to work on your bedside manner, even if you are a veterinarian.”
Rob pointed at David and Chet. “But you’re the two fathers, right?”
Chet’s determined “Yes” drowned out David’s quiet “No.”
“Chet’s not the biological parent,” Troy said as he pushed David toward the examination table. “In case you haven’t smelled it on them, neither of the happy couple are shifters.”
Steven sat up, wiping the gel off his stomach. “It’s your turn, David.” He hopped off the table.
David stared at Steven’s swollen belly. “How far along are you?”
“Two months,” he replied. “Halfway there.”
“That’s halfway?”
“Don’t let it scare you,” Troy said. “You won’t want to see your feet by the third month, anyway.”
Resignedly, David laid on the table and pulled up his shirt.
Dr. Rob squirted some lubricant on the bare skin, using the probe to spread it over David’s belly. “Let’s see what we’ve got.”
David silently chanted, “Please don’t be twins, please don’t be twins, please don’t be twins.”
The doctor would never be a good poker player. With every swipe of the probe, Rob’s eyes would widen, his brows furrow, or his lips purse. Sometimes all three at once.
“I think…” Rob circled the device to the left. “Yes, you’re having twins!”
David stared blankly at the screen, as Chet moved to his side.
“They’re not identical twins, right?” Chet asked.
“Correct,” Rob agreed.
“You’re having Morehouse twins,” Troy squealed. “Your mother is going to be so happy! And I’m sure your father will come around, eventually. Possibly.”
David’s head dropped back on the pillow. He stared at the ceiling, feeling numb everywhere but his cold, slick stomach.
Dr. Rob ran his fingers along David’s lower abdomen. “There’s no indication this isn’t a viable pregnancy.”
“It’s viable,” Chet declared.
Rob’s eyes widened at Chet’s forceful response. “Um, just the same, I’ll need to keep a close eye on you.”
“Ignore the sheriff,” Troy told Rob. “You won’t have to deal with demanding spouses in your normal line of work.”
“The only thing you’re missing is a birthing line.” Rob held his hand up to Chet. “It’s nothing to worry about. It may still appear. If not, we’ll simply perform a cesarean.”
The room was silent, waiting for David to speak. Chet squeezed his hand, and David’s glassy gaze crept from the monitor to focus on him. “They’re really real.”
Chet nodded. “Really, truly real.”
David closed his eyes. “I’m making babies.” He laid quietly before staring up at Chet. “I think…this might be a mistake…and I might change my mind…”
Chet smiled warmly. “But?”
“Right now…in this moment…I think…I want to keep them.”
“I think,” Chet answered, “that’s a great idea.”
Everyone sat around Steven’s kitchen table while Rob printed off the twins’ first portrait.
“When did the ranch splurge on a sonogram?” Troy asked.
“When Ricky got shot with silver,” Steven answered. “Mack and Adam decided the ranch needed something more high tech than a midwife for their mates. At least that’s what Mack told me before he installed it in our kitchen.”
Rob raised an eyebrow. “Adam is mated? Anyone else?”
Troy smirked as he cast an I-told-you-so glance at the non-doctors. “Mack, of course.”
Rob attempted a nonchalant pose. “What about Luke?”
“The only one left.” Troy sighed dramatically. “Not that he’s even looking.” He glanced at his watch. “Oh my, look at the time. I need to get to work. Books don’t write themselves.”
He stood, tapping David on the shoulder. “Keep next Wednesday open. It will be your first Cub Club meeting.” He pulled papers from his bag and unfolded them. “Here’s a list of everything you’ll need to get before the baby arrives.”
Before handing it over, something caught his eye. “How did a pumping bra end up on here?” Troy grabbed Rob’s pen and scratched the line out. “Must be a copy of the one I made for your sister.” He pocketed the pen as he passed David the list.
It was three pages, two columns, tightly spaced, with check boxes next to each item.
“I know it looks overwhelming,” Troy said. “But that’s what baby showers are for! I’ve already wrangled your mother into picking up some of the big-ticket items.”
David flipped through the pages as his breathing became fast and shallow. “This is everything I need?”
“You’ll have to double it,” Troy replied. “I didn’t account for twins.”
Chet placed an arm around David’s neck. “Slow, deep breaths,” he whispered into his mate’s ear.
“Are you doing cloth diapers? Because my son Phillip just started his own diaper laundry service and I can get you a first-baby discount. He’s cheaper than disposables.”
David stared silently, overwhelmed by the list, half-listening to Troy’s monologue. Babies are expensive.
“Don’t waste your money on clothes,” Troy said. “All of us in the Cub Club have piles our kids have outgrown. You don’t need to buy anything but some onesies. You can never have too many onesies.”
Troy threw the bag over his shoulder. “See you Wednesday. Oh, don’t forget life insurance,” Troy added. “Just in case.”
He turned to leave and ran into Mack. “Oh, this should be good.” He dropped his bag and sat back down at the table.
“I thought you had to write,” Steven reminded him.
“Research is important, too,” Troy replied. “And based on your mate’s expression, things are about to get complicated.”
Mack’s expression was grimmer than usual. “This is a private conversation.”
Troy whipped out a tablet. “It’s the baby daddy, isn’t it? David’s started a pack war!”
“There’s no pack war,” Mack said. “But yes, I got a call about David’s baby.”
Troy’s pen hovered just above the paper. “From the council?” When Mack nodded, the pen moved vigorously.
“What council?” Chet asked.
“It’s like the Supreme Court for West Coast shifters,” Troy explained. His pen never stopped moving.
“Troy,” Mack warned.
“How are you going to explain you can’t stop David from mating the father of his twins without explaining the council?”
David and Chet both turned to Troy, replying in unison, “What?”
“Nothing has been decided,” Mack said as he fought to regain control of the conversation.
“Like there’s any doubt.” Troy put his pen down. “The council is made up of the alpha from each pack on the West Coast. When there is a territorial dispute, they take a vote and the packs have to abide by their decision.”
David gritted his teeth. “I’m not territory.”
Troy nodded. “You’re an omega. We are rare. Not as rare as a Morehouse, but the rarest of wolf-shifters.” Troy put his hands on his hips. “Though you wouldn’t know it, living here. I swear, a new one pops up at our gate every month.”
“Troy,” Chet barked. “Focus.”
Troy sighed and placed a hand on David’s shoulder. “Because we’re so rare, it became tradi
tion that an omega belonged to the pack to keep from losing them to other wolves. Then the tradition became law.”
David took a second to absorb the information. “Lone Wolves Ranch owns me?”
Mack jumped in before Troy could answer. “No, and that’s the problem. You aren’t owned and you’re pregnant. That gives the San Francisco pack the right to claim you.”
“Can’t I join this pack?”
“Sorry,” Troy said. “You could have joined before, but once the issue was brought up to the council, you are officially living in no-man’s land.”
“Dominic is forcing me to mate him?”
“He can’t make you if you don’t want to,” Mack assured.
“No,” Troy agreed. “But the pack alpha can force you two to mate. That’s why Dominic is pushing you into his pack.”
“Dominic is already mated,” Chet said.
“That helps,” Mack replied.
“It helps you,” Troy said. “My readers don’t like slutty omegas.”
Steven ripped off a few blank sheets of paper from Troy’s tablet. “Tell us everything you know about Dominic.”
The list wasn’t long, but it was damning to the shifter’s character.
“This is good,” Mack said. “Hopefully we can get some proof of the abuse to his spouse.”
As Chet squeezed David’s hand, Troy tapped his pen against his lips. “The San Francisco pack is powerful and rich, with all those tech billionaires. They can buy the votes they need.”
Steven gave Troy his wide-eyed shut-up stare.
Troy had seen it all his life but never grasped its meaning. “It doesn’t help every pack is already suspicious about how many omegas we have now,” he added.
“We have plenty of time before the next council meeting to deal with this,” Mack insisted. “And they know that Chet is in the picture. Anything you can do to tie yourself to the area will help. They’ll be less willing to relocate someone who is a recognized member of the community.”
“We’re building a house together,” Chet said.
Steven started a new piece of paper. “Could you find a job in Timber Crossing?”
“Whatever it takes,” David said.
There is a curious trait shared by humans, fey, and shifters. Despite all the positive messages that were spoken, it was Troy’s words of doom that clung to everyone’s mind.
Leaving Mack and Steven’s home, Chet pulled David close to him. “Why don’t you stay at the ranch today while I’m at work.”
“I’ve got to find a job.” He pulled the baby list from his pocket. “Do you see all the things I need to buy? I don’t even know what a onesie is but I know I can never have enough of them.”
“Let me help. I can make a few calls to see if anyone is hiring. But for today I’d feel better knowing you were with the pack until we have a plan.”
David bit his lip. “You’re that worried?”
Rather than answer, he gave David a long, warm kiss, using the time to form the perfect answer. “We’ve just spent several days together. I’m allowed a little separation anxiety. Knowing you’re here will help.”
“Okay. I’ll see if my sister wants to babysit me.”
Knocking on Diana’s door, David ran through all the news he had to share: he was moving in with Chet, they were having twins, and the baby daddy wanted custody of David.
A small voice interrupted them. “Good morning, Mrs. Mane. I have your diaper delivery.”
David turned to see Phillip holding a bag of cloth diapers and a fresh hamper. “Hello, Mr. Morehouse-Packman. I hope you’ll consider using the Tidy-Didy Diaper service. I can offer you our litter-discount for your twins.”
David stared at the boy. “Can no one in your family keep a secret?”
Phillip’s eyes welled with tears. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was a secret. Daddy says it’s bad to keep secrets.”
When Phillip sniffled, David felt a rush of guilt for snapping at the boy. He knelt so they were eye-to-eye. “I’m sorry. You’re right. Your daddy doesn’t keep secrets. Nobody’s secrets. And I’ll be happy to give you my business.”
“Thank you, Mr. Morehouse-Packman.” Phillip wiped his eyes. “The promotion enrollment ends this month, so I will need a deposit.”
David wondered whether the tears had been real, as he pulled a twenty out of his wallet.
Phillip smiled, took the bill, loaded up Diana’s dirty hamper in his wagon, and headed to his next client.
“Tell me about the twins,” Diana insisted.
“There isn’t much to tell. I just found out this morning.” He showed her the sonogram picture.
A hiccupping cry came from the baby’s room. Diana handed the photo back. “We better start your crash course right now. Top to bottom. It’s feeding time.”
As Diana supervised, David warmed a bottle of formula. “I wonder how Mother will take the news,” she said. “She doesn’t seem so hot on the Morehouse legacy as she used to be.”
“I noticed her car is gone. Did she finally leave?” Squirting a little formula on his wrist, he tested the temperature as Diana had shown him. “This is hard to do with a baby in your arms.”
“It will be harder with two,” she answered. “Mother left a couple of days ago, and Dad left this morning. Something is going on. He was acting as if it was some secret mission. Though, if you ask me, it’s probably a second honeymoon.”
“Really?”
“Oh yeah. They’ve been pawing at each other all weekend. It was creepy.”
David took a seat on the rocking chair, allowing Diana to reposition his nephew for the best feeding angle.
Joshua stared up into his eyes, as if daring David not to fall in love with him.
“So, I assume the weekend went well,” Diana said.
“Yes. For the most part.”
“Is that what changed your mind about keeping the baby…uh, babies?”
“I blame the sonogram,” he answered. “The pregnancy was more theoretical before I got a picture. It made me rethink my plan. Especially if I have to protect them from Dominic. There’s no way that sperm donor is getting hold of my kids. Raising them myself is the only way to keep them safe.” He shifted Joshua in his arms. “If I can keep them safe.”
Diana positioned a towel over David’s shoulder and patted it. “This is a burping cloth, which is a fancy term for hand towel.” She took the empty bottle from his hand. “I never thought I’d say this, but it might be a good thing you’re a Morehouse. Those women aren’t going to let anyone have their twins.”
David looked into her eyes. “Does that include mine?” When she didn’t answer, he focused on Joshua. “It’s hard to believe how tiny we all start out.”
“Especially when some people grow up to be such big asses,” Diana responded before having David stand for the burping lesson.
“Those little pats don’t do anything,” she scolded. “Use a firmer hand.”
David’s effort was rewarded with a baby belch.
Continuing the top-to-bottom training, David changed a diaper. As the little guy’s eyelids started to droop, they set him down for his nap.
“And that is Baby Care 101,” Diana stated, popping a pacifier in Joshua’s mouth.
David hovered over the crib, watching as sleep overtook the child.
Diana placed her hand on his. “You won’t have to raise your cubs alone. You’ve got a whole pack right here for support.”
“They’re not cubs. They’re babies.”
“Those lives you’re growing are a little of both. That’s why you need to be on the ranch.”
“Chet’s home is as close as I’ll come. Dad doesn’t seem comfortable with omegas.”
“Give him a chance. It takes time to teach an old wolf new tricks. I’m sure when he holds your babies in his arms, his opinion will change.”
“Maybe mine will, too. But until then, forget about me living here.”
Chet drove up to the gate, prepared to
battle his way onto the ranch again, but Sarge just waved him through.
His satisfaction turned to confusion when he realized he didn’t know which of the cottages belonged to Diana.
There were children jumping rope, double-Dutch style, and he pulled up beside them. Their chant caught his attention.
David came to Lone Wolves Ranch
And ate the apple jelly
Now everybody wants to count
The babies in his belly.
One baby,
Two babies,
Three babies—
Troy waved his hand while continuing to jump. “Sheriff Thompson, what a pleasant surprise.”
Chet stood, resting his arm on the top of the car. “I’m looking for Diana’s home.”
Troy leapt out from between the swinging ropes. “Kids. This is Sheriff Thompson. We’re going to be seeing a lot more of him.”
Chet knew first impressions were important, especially with children, and walked toward them. When his feet hit the lawn, a vibration radiated up his legs.
He greeted each of Troy’s kids with a handshake. Victor asked whether he could shoot his gun.
“Sorry,” Chet replied. “It’s for official business only.”
When their curiosity was satisfied, they ran back to the jump rope. Once alone, he asked Troy, “Would that drop of your blood have done anything to me?”
“No. But I wouldn’t recommend getting a transfusion of it. Why?”
“My legs. It feels like the ground is vibrating.”
“Let’s see.”
Chet pulled his pant legs up as Troy crouched down. “Hmm.”
“What do you see?” Chet asked.
Troy sighed. “Calves Lance Armstrong would be jealous of.”
“I mean about the vibration.”
Troy stood. “Oh, that happens to all of us on the ranch.”
Chet blinked. “Why did you have me show you my legs?”
“I’ve always wondered how they looked.” He stroked his chin. “Still, it’s strange your shoes aren’t blocking it. Most new arrivals don’t notice the sensation their first year.”
