Twins on the Doorstep

by Marie Ferrarella

  He wanted to hold her. To tell her he was sorry. But he knew Stacy would only withdraw into herself. Still, he had to know. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Stacy squared her shoulders and looked up. “I just did.”

  “But I mean then,” he stressed. “When we were going together.”

  The short laugh had no mirth to it. “Not exactly a story that’s meant for sharing,” she told him.

  “But you told me now,” he pointed out. If she told him now, she could have told him then.

  “I told you now because I don’t want you even thinking about handing these babies over to social services yet. Granted there are some very nice people out there who want to open their homes up to a child—but that’s not always the case. I know that you need to find out more about them first before you take the risk.”

  Her eyes met his. Hers had an intensity to them he’d never seen before. “Promise me you won’t take them to social services right away?”

  “I promise,” he told her. But he wanted her to understand the full import of what she was asking. “What if the sheriff can’t find their parents?”

  “I’ll think of something,” she told him. Exactly what, she wasn’t sure, but anything was better than the kind of life that her twin had so briefly had. “Now start driving,” Stacy ordered.

  Cole saw tear tracks on her cheeks.

  But he knew better than to point that out or say anything about them. Instead, he took out his handkerchief and passed it back to her, then started up his truck again.

  He thought he heard her murmur, “Thanks,” but he wasn’t sure. The twins had started fussing and they were drowning Stacy out.

  Cole couldn’t help thinking that he was heading to the ranch—and Rita—just in time.

  Chapter Seven

  Cole walked into the ranch house he had thought of as home for his entire life. He couldn’t begin to imagine what it had to be like for children who hadn’t been as lucky as his siblings and him.

  Until today, he had never thought of Stacy as even remotely being in that sort of a category. He’d never had a clue that she’d known anything but security throughout her whole life.

  You just never knew.

  The living room was empty.

  He guessed that Connor was most likely out on the range, tending to whatever problem had come up today. Just as well, he thought. He’d face his brother with the news of this latest development after the twins were taken care of.

  “Rita, are you home?” Cole called out, raising his voice.

  “I’m in the kitchen, Mr. Cole,” Rita answered, her almost melodic, accented voice floating through the rooms. “Do you need something?”

  “You could say that,” Cole replied. He walked into the kitchen with the babies.

  Rita’s back was to the doorway. Moving between the stove and the counter, she was in the midst of preparing dinner. Because she never knew just how many people would be seated at the dinner table, the woman Cole and Connor had considered a godsend ever since she joined the household always made sure that she prepared plenty. The whole family agreed that even Rita’s leftovers were beyond good. The woman clearly had a gift. Cody had once said the housekeeper could make three-day-old dirt taste delicious.

  “Well, what is it?” Rita asked, chopping furiously and reducing celery stalks into tiny bits of green.

  “Turn around, please,” Cole requested.

  Putting down the huge knife she was wielding with the expertise of a master swordsman, the housekeeper deposited the diced celery into the large pot of stew she had on the back burner and then turned away from the stove.

  “Speak quickly, please. I have work to do,” Rita told Cole before she fully turned around to face him.

  Her dark eyes widening, Rita stared at the basket the rancher was holding. Within less than half a second, the older woman was melting.

  Wiping her hands on the apron around her middle, she came forward, her eyes never leaving the infants. “What do you have there?”

  “Babies,” Cole answered. “Twins to be more accurate.”

  Rita was already beaming at the infants. “Whose?” she asked as she tickled Kate’s tummy. Kate made a noise that was very close to a giggle.

  “That’s just it,” Cole said after sparing a glance at Stacy for any last-moment intervention. Stacy said nothing so he told the housekeeper, “We don’t know.”

  “Miss Stacy,” Rita greeted the young woman beside Cole politely. She recognized her from a photograph Cole still had in his room. Asking around, the housekeeper had become aware of the backstory. “Are you here for a visit?”

  “No, to stay,” Stacy told her. Then, to be strictly honest, she added, “For now.”

  Sharp dark eyes darted from the infants toward the woman she’d just greeted. “Did you bring these babies with you?” Rita asked.

  “No, she’s just here to help out,” Cole explained. The twins’ fussing had gone up a notch, increasing in volume. “I think they’re hungry. Or maybe they need changing again.”

  He raised his eyes, looking at the housekeeper. It was clear that he felt out of his depth and was silently asking for her help.

  A knowing look came into Rita’s eyes. “And you would like me to see which it is?”

  He nodded, looking at her sheepishly. “Something like that.”

  “So, then, they will be staying here?” Rita asked. She paused to turn the burner beneath the large stew pot down to low. The stew needed to simmer for a couple of hours before it was ready.

  “For the time being,” Cole told her. “They don’t have anywhere else to go,” he added, hoping that would win the woman over completely.

  “I see. Does Mr. Connor know?” she asked.

  “I told him about finding the babies, but no, I didn’t say anything about having them stay here,” Cole admitted.

  Rita nodded. “He is a smart man, Mr. Connor. He has probably already guessed as much.” Rita picked up the baby closest to her. It turned out to be Mike. Taking a deep whiff, she said, “Oh, yes, this one needs to be changed.” She looked at Cole. “Did you by any chance bring any diapers with you?”

  “Yes,” he answered, happy that he’d at least gotten this right. “Garrett picked up diapers for them at the general store, along with a couple of baby bottles and some formula,” he told her, then added, “Rosa sent him out with a list. Everything’s in the truck right now. I’ll just go out and get it.”

  “You said something about finding them?” Rita asked him, curious.

  “They were on my doorstep.” Cole tossed the words over his shoulder as he hurried out the front door to his truck.

  With Cole gone, Rita turned to look at Stacy. Her expression indicated that she was waiting to be filled in on the rest of the story.

  Stalling and uncomfortable, Stacy went to pick up the second twin. Kate stopped fussing the second she was in Stacy’s arms and laid her small head on Stacy’s shoulder.

  An immense feeling of contentment and satisfaction filled Stacy. It surprised her as much as it pleased her.

  “He found these babies on his doorstep?” Rita pressed. “I don’t understand. Mr. Cole’s doorstep is here. He didn’t find them here,” she stated.

  “I think he meant he found them outside the room he stays in at the Healing Ranch,” Stacy explained, although she really didn’t know much about that situation. From what she had pieced together, she’d learned that Cole had begun working at the Healing Ranch after she left town.

  Rita shook her head, her features softening with sympathy. “Someone left these poor little lambs out in the cold? They could have gotten very sick. Who would do such a heartless thing?” she demanded, cradling Mike against her ample bosom.

  “Maybe a mother who was desperate,” Stacy ventured
. She didn’t want to sound as if she was taking sides, but there was obviously more than one side to this situation. Seeing the less than sympathetic expression on the housekeeper’s face, she quickly added, “The sheriff is trying to find their mother.”

  Wanting to avoid Rita’s condemning gaze, Stacy gazed down at Kate. As she did so, she caught herself smiling.

  “You like babies.” It wasn’t a question on Rita’s part but a judgment.

  “I suppose,” Stacy said, not wanting to commit herself one way or the other. “They haven’t become people yet.”

  Rita looked as if she was considering what she’d just heard. “Then you have been hurt,” Rita concluded.

  She knew the other woman by sight, but Rita hadn’t yet come to work for the McCulloughs when Cole and Stacy had been involved. Rita studied the young woman’s face, making her own assumptions from what she was even now piecing together.

  “No more than anyone else,” Stacy answered vaguely. Trying to appear aloof, she deliberately put distance between herself and the other woman. She had the feeling that Rita could see right through her and she didn’t want anyone in her head.

  “I’ve got diapers, bottles and milk, and Garrett picked up a couple of pacifiers, too,” Cole announced, holding two large paper bags aloft.

  Walking back into the house quickly, he placed both of the bags on the kitchen table and leaned one against the other so they wouldn’t accidentally spill out their contents.

  “What about a change of clothes?” Rita asked him.

  He looked at her, slightly bewildered. “What about it?”

  Rita pressed her full lips together, searching for patience. “Do you have any in those bags that you brought in?”

  “I don’t think Rosa told him to get any change of clothes for the babies,” he told the housekeeper.

  Just to make sure, Cole rummaged through the contents of both bags, taking out everything in them and lining them up on the table. The items in the bags took up all the available space.

  “Nope, no change of clothes,” he announced.

  “Mr. Cole,” Rita began, her voice trailing off along with her patience.

  Cole did his best not to sigh. “You want me to go to the general store and buy some clothes for the twins,” he guessed.

  “Very good,” Rita replied, smiling at him.

  “What size do you want me to get for them?” he asked.

  “Why don’t you get the outfits to fit a three-month-old, just to be on the safe side?” Stacy said, speaking up.

  He’d almost forgotten she was there. “Okay,” he said gamely. “How many outfits do you want me to buy?” he asked Stacy.

  The housekeeper took over. “Three for each should do,” Rita told him, adding, “As long as you don’t mind doing a lot of washing.”

  Cole frowned slightly. The idea of having to wash clothes—even tiny ones—didn’t warm his heart. “I’ll get five,” he told Rita.

  Rita turned before he could see the smile on her face. “Whatever you say, Mr. Cole,” the housekeeper replied.

  “Yeah, right.” Cole laughed under his breath. “Be back as soon as I can. We should have thought of this earlier, when we were in town,” he said to Stacy as he walked out.

  “Yes, we should have,” Stacy answered, addressing his back.

  From Stacy’s tone, he didn’t know if she was agreeing with him or mocking him. He decided that he was better off not knowing.

  “Come,” Rita said to her as she cradled Mike in the crook of her arm while picking up a package of disposable diapers with her other hand. “We can change these two in the guest bedroom.” She led the way to the other room.

  * * *

  “WHAT ARE YOU doing back in town?” Miss Joan asked sharply when she saw Cole walking through the diner’s door.

  Accustomed to her prickly manner, Cole came up to the counter. “That’s no way to make a customer feel wanted, Miss Joan.”

  “You’re not wanted,” Miss Joan informed him. “In case it slipped your mind, you’re supposed to be with those babies.” Her hazel eyes pinned him with a look. “Where are they?”

  “I left them with Rita and Stacy at the ranch,” Cole told her. He thought that would please her. He quickly discovered that he was wrong.

  “And you ran off?” Miss Joan accused. “Responsibility getting to be too much for you already, boy?” Cole wasn’t sure if that was disappointment in her eyes, or if she was just trying to goad him. “Lucky for you your brother didn’t feel that way or you, Cody and Cassidy would have been scattered to the four corners of Texas.”

  “I’m not shirking my responsibility, Miss Joan,” Cole assured her. “I just came back to town to get them a change of clothes at the general store. Rita insisted that they were going to need them.”

  Rather than saying anything about making a mistake, or even that she’d known, in her heart, that he would come through, Miss Joan focused on what his housekeeper had said.

  “Of course they will,” Miss Joan agreed with feeling. “You can’t have those babies in the same clothes day in, day out.”

  Day in, day out. That sounded much too long a stretch of time to him. He just couldn’t think about that now. Instead, he defended his reasoning.

  “They’re babies, Miss Joan. They just need blankets tucked around them and they’ve already got those.”

  Miss Joan just shook her head. “You are going to need a lot of work, boy,” she commented with feeling. Her eyes narrowed as she pinned him with a look. “If you came into town for extra clothes, what are you doing here?” she asked. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I don’t sell baby clothes.”

  “I just wanted a cup of your hot, bracing coffee before I went back to the ranch,” he told her.

  “You just wanted to stall before you went back,” Miss Joan corrected. “Don’t forget, I’ve known you since you were no taller than the heel on that boot you’re wearing. I know how you think. Babies are nothing to be afraid of, Cole,” she said, pouring him a tall container to go. “And neither is Stacy,” she added in a low voice.

  “I’m not afraid,” he said defensively. “She made the decision to go her own way eight months ago,” he added, lowering his voice so that no one else but Miss Joan could hear.

  Miss Joan made no comment. Instead, she placed a lid on the coffee she had just poured and pushed the container toward him.

  “Just take your coffee and get back to the ranch—and your responsibilities.”

  “They’re not my responsibilities, Miss Joan,” he reminded her.

  “Haven’t you heard?” Miss Joan asked. “Possession is nine tenths of the law and they’re on your property. That makes them yours.”

  Cole sighed, digging into his pocket. Arguing with Miss Joan about anything was futile. “So, what do I owe you?”

  Her eyes met his. “Prove me right and we’ll call it even,” Miss Joan told him. “Now get your tail out of here. Those kids are waiting.”

  Again, he couldn’t argue with her, even if he wanted to. Because somewhere in his heart, he felt that she was right.

  * * *

  HE DRANK THE coffee on the trip back.

  When he walked into the ranch house with the extra baby clothes that Rita had sent him out to get, he found his housekeeper and his former girlfriend sitting on the living room sofa, feeding the twins and laughing. Obviously, in the time it had taken him to go to town and back, a lot of bonding had taken place.

  “There you are,” Rita announced when she saw him come in. “I was beginning to think you decided not to come back.”

  “I haven’t been gone that long,” Cole protested. He handed her the bag of clothes he’d bought. “Still don’t see why I had to buy these. All they need are their diapers, their undershirts and those blankets they were wrappe
d up in when I found them in that basket on the doorstep.”

  “And you are an expert on babies?” Rita asked.

  Maybe he wasn’t an expert, but he did have some experience. “We’ve had two here.”

  Rita frowned at him. “And how much attention did you pay?” she asked.

  “Enough,” Cole answered defensively.

  Rita shook her head and he got the feeling that she was pitying him. Standing up, she handed over Mike to him. “Here, you hold him. I have dinner to finish preparing. See that you do not drop him,” she ordered, walking back into the kitchen.

  “I like her,” Stacy told him as Cole sat down beside her with Mike.

  “You would,” he answered. And then his curiosity got the better of him. “What were you two laughing about when I walked in?”

  “Oh, were we laughing?” Stacy asked innocently. “I hadn’t realized.”

  “Even the twins realized it,” he pointed out, still waiting for her to answer his question.

  “Just girl talk,” she finally answered. “Nothing important.”

  She wasn’t about to say anything more, he thought. For now, he let it go—but he promised himself that he would find out eventually.

  Chapter Eight

  After parking his truck near the front of the ranch house, Connor remained seated behind the steering wheel for a couple of minutes, gathering his strength together just to make it to the front door.

  He felt really drained. He was going to have to get some part-time help, he told himself. Even with Cole’s help—which he hadn’t had today—there was just too much work on the ranch.

  Uttering a deep sigh he opened the driver’s side door and got out. Connor recalled that his father had an expression that rather aptly described the way he was feeling as he all but dragged himself up to his front door: he felt as if he had been ridden hard and put away wet.

  Of course, the expression more accurately applied to a horse, but Connor felt that, in this case, it also could have just as easily described him.