Twins on the Doorstep

by Marie Ferrarella

  Rebecca’s brown eyes washed over Cole. “Yes, I see that.”

  For a split second, Rebecca’s comment caught her off guard. “What?” The next moment, she realized what the hotel manager was thinking. Stacy quickly tried to set the woman straight. “Oh, no, it’s not what you think. I just agreed to help take care of a couple of twins.”

  Rebecca looked at her in surprise. “You don’t strike me as the nanny type.”

  “That’s because I’m not,” Stacy answered. “I’m just helping out a friend for a few days—maybe a week or so,” Stacy amended. “In any case, I need to check out. If you could have my bill ready when I come back downstairs, that would be great,” Stacy requested.

  “Certainly,” Rebecca agreed. “Sorry to see you go, Stacy—on both counts.”

  “Thank you. I hope you find somebody to take over the front desk,” Stacy told her as she walked toward the elevator.

  “Not as quickly as I found you,” Rebecca called after her.

  “I feel guilty,” Stacy murmured, getting on the elevator.

  The comment hit Cole the wrong way. He bit back the response that rose to his lips. Stacy felt guilty about telling the hotel manager she wasn’t taking the job she’d been hired for, but she hadn’t given any indication that she felt guilty about just taking off without a word to him the way she had eight months ago.

  Cole told himself there was no point in getting angry, but her comment still felt like having salt poured on his wound.

  He decided it was best if he didn’t say anything to her—about anything—for now.

  At least, not until he cooled off.

  Following her into her hotel room, he waited for Stacy to pack her things. When she was finished and had snapped the locks into place, he took the two suitcases off the bed. Heading toward the door, Cole stood waiting until she exited, then followed her out.

  He continued to maintain his silence as he rode down the elevator with her. When they got out to the main floor, he walked out the entrance and took the suitcases to his truck. After loading them into the back, he got in on the driver’s side and waited until Stacy took care of her bill at the front desk.

  It took her longer than he anticipated, but he said nothing when she finally came out to his truck.

  He was giving her the silent treatment, Stacy thought when she finally got into the passenger seat and buckled her seat belt. For the life of her, she had no idea why, or what had changed in the last hour.

  If anything, he should be telling her how grateful he was that she had agreed to help out. After all, these babies had been left on his doorstep, not Connor’s, and that made them his responsibility. Which actually meant that she was going out of her way to help him with them, not Connor.

  But then, she didn’t know Cole the way she thought she did. There was a time when she would have sworn she knew every thought that entered his head. That was before he’d ridden roughshod over her heart the way he had, completely abandoning her without a second thought.

  She supposed that it was lucky for these babies that he’d grown up a bit.

  Three minutes into the trip back, the silence was really getting to her.

  Because she was not about to ask Cole what was wrong—since that would have given him the impression that she cared—Stacey reached over and turned on the radio.

  A popular country singer had only managed to utter the first three words of his song before Cole reached for the dial and, with one quick movement of his wrist, shut the radio off.

  “I was listening to that,” Stacy protested indignantly.

  Cole kept his hand over the dial, stopping her from turning the radio back on. The whole situation had started him thinking. He could come up with only one reason she’d left town and why she was back now, volunteering to help care for the infants he’d “found” on the doorstep.

  “Are they yours?”

  “What?” she cried sharply, staring at Cole. He couldn’t be asking her what she thought he was asking.

  “The twins,” he specified. “Are they yours? Did you leave them on my doorstep—on the bunkhouse doorstep?” he clarified.

  Her eyes flashed as she looked at him. “We’ve already had this discussion. I don’t know how bad your memory is, but I answered that question for you and the answer was—and still is—no, they are not mine,” she underscored.

  Blowing out a breath, struggling to rein in her temper, she glared at him. Like it or not, she was still able to read him.

  “You don’t believe me, do you?” Cole didn’t answer her. It was getting harder for her to hold on to her temper. “Do you think that little of me that you believe I’d just leave two helpless infants crammed in a basket on a doorstep?” she demanded heatedly.

  “My doorstep.”

  That did it. “I didn’t know you even had a damn doorstep other than at the ranch until this happened so, no, it wasn’t me. They’re not mine—get over yourself, Cole.”

  “I can get over myself with no trouble at all,” Cole assured her. And then, in what he realized was a moment of weakness, he told her, “What I can’t seem to get over is you.”

  Did he honestly think she was going to believe that? Maybe she never really knew him at all, she thought sadly. “I stopped believing in Santa Claus a long time ago, Cole. So please stop trying to snow me.”

  “You don’t believe me.” Served him right for saying anything to her, he upbraided himself.

  “No,” she told him flatly. “I don’t.”

  He spared her one piercing glance, then looked straight ahead at the flat terrain. “Yeah, well, I don’t believe me, either, but there it is.” And then he couldn’t help throwing in, “Even though you left without a single word of explanation—”

  Was he delusional? Or was he just trying to make her doubt herself? “I didn’t think I needed to explain anything, considering that you were the one who decided to bail out.”

  “I didn’t bail out,” he insisted. “I just needed time to think.”

  “Yeah, think about how to bail out,” she retorted angrily. They’d made love and after what she’d thought was the most wonderful night of her life, he’d vanished on her. “Face it, you got what you wanted, so the bloom was off the rose and you wanted to explore other fields.”

  The more he talked to her, the more confused he became.

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Cole demanded. “This is Forever, population small. There are no other fields.”

  He was almost convincing, she thought. But she’d lived through it, lived through the humiliation of having him take off the way he had, without a backward glance. Well, two could play that game, and thanks to Aunt Kate, she had.

  “Denial is only a good weapon when you’re on a diet and find yourself stranded in a bakery. In your case, denial is definitely not good—especially for your soul.”

  “Let’s stop right here,” Cole warned her, “before one of us says something we can’t take back. It’s best for everyone all around if we just focus on those two babies back at the ranch who need to be reunited with their mother.”

  She didn’t want to argue, and if she remained around him, they were bound to argue. “Maybe I can be more useful if I volunteer to help the sheriff look for her.”

  “Maybe,” Cole allowed. “It’s an option you can look into in the morning. Right now, if I don’t bring you back in time for dinner, neither one of us might live to see morning.”

  He almost succeeded in making her laugh. “Rita can’t be that fierce.”

  “Let’s put it this way. In our house, nobody has ever tried to call her bluff. Besides, she cooks like an angel,” he told her. “And I don’t know about you, but I’m really getting kind of hungry.”

  She didn’t want to admit it, but now that Cole had mentioned it, she was rat
her hungry herself. “Just drive,” she told him, waving her hand toward the road in front of them, and let it go at that.

  * * *

  CONNOR APPEARED GENUINELY relieved when he saw Stacy walk in with his brother.

  “I was afraid you might have changed your mind,” he told her. “I don’t mind admitting that I think I’m out of my depth here.” He nodded at the infants currently in the crib. “Feeding two of these is a lot harder than just feeding one,” he told his new houseguest. “When Devon was here with her newborn, we all took turns helping out, but she did most of the heavy lifting, so to speak. And then when Cassidy rescued that baby and brought her here, Rita had started to work for us. And there was also Will to pitch in.”

  “Will,” Stacy echoed. “Laredo?” She said the rancher’s last name just to be sure they were talking about the same man. “I don’t think I can picture him helping with a baby.”

  Cole laughed. “He kind of felt it was his duty because—Cassidy didn’t like letting anyone know this at the time—Will actually rescued Cassidy rescuing the baby.”

  “They were in the middle of a flash flood and the current got pretty strong pretty fast, according to the locals. If it hadn’t been for Will, Cassidy and the baby might have both been swept away,” Connor told her. “My point is that there was always just one baby to a whole bunch of us. Now there’re two babies, and our numbers have decreased considerably.”

  When she’d walked in, Stacy had been having serious second thoughts about what she was signing on for—even if it turned out to be only for a short while. But listening to Connor just now, she’d had another change of heart. As annoyed as she kept getting with Cole, she couldn’t, in all good conscience, bring herself to just leave Connor high and dry.

  “Well, if it helps any,” she told Connor, “consider those numbers to have increased by one. I officially terminated my job at the hotel and I’m here to help until the sheriff locates their mother.”

  “Dinner is ready,” Rita announced, walking into the living room. “Eat,” she ordered, waving the three people into the dining room. “I will take care of the babies. That means you, too,” she told Stacy when the latter made no move to leave the room.

  And, just like that, Stacy found herself an unofficial member of the family—at least for the time being.

  * * *

  THE FIRST COUPLE of days on the ranch seemed to run together for Stacy, turning into an endless stream of feedings and diaperings with occasional fitful snatches of sleep. The twins seemed to take turns being awake, never sleeping at the same time.

  Initially, trying to keep up with them felt like an exercise in futility to Stacy until the housekeeper took over, ordering her to her room.

  “You sleep, I will take care of the babies,” she told her.

  “No, that’s all right, Rita,” Stacy protested, sounding a little exhausted around the edges. “You have work to do.”

  “Yes,” the woman agreed, leveling a penetrating gaze directly at Stacy. “And you are making it hard for me to do it.” With one baby tucked into the crook of her arm, Rita pointed to the ground floor bedroom, next to the twins’ room, that had been set aside to act as Stacy’s. “Now go lie down and get some rest before Mr. Cole accuses me of letting you run yourself into the ground.”

  It wasn’t in her to argue for longer than half a moment, but she couldn’t leave without correcting Rita’s obvious mistake. “You mean Mr. Connor.”

  “No,” Rita countered, “I mean Mr. Cole. Mr. Cole wanted me to keep an eye on you and make sure you get your rest,” the housekeeper told her. “He said that if I didn’t watch you, you would try to do too much and forget about taking care of yourself. Nobody wants to see you getting sick.”

  Stacy frowned. That didn’t make any sense. She and Cole weren’t exactly on the best of terms after that ride back from the hotel. “Are you sure you’re not talking about Mr. Connor?”

  “I am sure,” Rita told her. “They do not look alike. And besides, Mr. Connor is a good man, but he is not the one who is in love with you.”

  The housekeeper had to be imagining things. “Well, I have news for you, Rita. Neither is Mr. Cole,” Stacy assured her. “And whatever he might have told you—” she began, positive that the woman had misunderstood something or taken it out of its context, but she never got the chance.

  “He did not tell me anything, Miss Stacy,” the housekeeper said with finality. “He did not have to. I can see it in his eyes.”

  There was no arguing with the woman, Stacy thought, giving up. Rita was just like Miss Joan, stubborn to the very end.

  Stacy sighed. “I think I’ll take that nap now,” she told the woman, surrendering.

  Rita smiled. “That is a very good idea. And don’t worry about the little ones, they will be in good hands.”

  It must be nice, Stacy thought as she went into the small bedroom, to be so confident. The only time she had been that confident about something, she turned out to be wrong.

  Even if Rita was determined to argue that point.

  But Rita was wrong even if she didn’t know it.

  Stacy put her head down on the pillow and was sound asleep before she could complete her thought.

  Chapter Ten

  It was dark when she woke up.

  And there was a blanket draped over her.

  Stacy didn’t remember pulling a blanket over herself. She barely remembered lying down. What she did remember was that she’d intended to sleep for no more than twenty minutes—if that much.

  The sun had been coming into her room when she lay down. It was gone now. This had to be way past twenty minutes.

  Sitting up, she pulled the blanket off and placed it on the edge of the bed. She became aware of people talking to each other. And laughing.

  Stacy got off the bed and walked to the door. Opening it allowed not just the living room light and the laughter to enter, but the feeling of warmth, as well. Both Connor and Cole were home and each of them was holding one of the twins. She couldn’t help thinking how totally natural that looked.

  “I’m sorry,” Connor said the moment he saw her coming into the living room. “We were making too much noise and woke you up.”

  “Don’t apologize,” she told him. “I wasn’t supposed to sleep this long.” She looked around for a clock. “What time is it?”

  “Just a little after six,” Cole answered.

  “Six?” Stacy echoed incredulously. “It was just one o’clock when I lay down. I was only supposed to nap for a few minutes,” she said, totally distressed.

  “You were supposed to nap for as long as you needed to,” Cole told her. You’ve been up for practically the last forty-eight hours. It was bound to catch up with you,” he pointed out.

  Rita was in the room, as well, and she turned her attention toward the housekeeper. “I’m sorry, Rita,” she apologized. “I didn’t mean to leave you with all this work.”

  “You did not leave me with anything,” the older woman informed her. “I was the one who told you to get some sleep,” she reminded Stacy. “You were more tired than you knew. Mr. Connor and Mr. Cole each took turns dropping by during the day so I was not alone the whole time. And they have both been here since five o’clock. The babies have been angels,” the housekeeper added, then told her, “You are up just in time for dinner.”

  “Dinner? Didn’t you already serve dinner?” she asked. Dinner was on the table like clockwork at five every night. Why had the woman postponed serving it?

  “Tonight, Rita decided to wait,” Cole told her.

  She couldn’t help wondering if it was Rita who’d made the decision or if Connor and Cole had told the housekeeper to hold the meal until she woke up. She slanted a glance at Rita. The housekeeper was beginning to seem more like a benevolent dictator than a tyrant to
her.

  “Did you come in and cover me when I was asleep?” Stacy asked the woman as she followed Rita to the dining room.

  Rita paused for a moment to turn and look at her. “You are a grown woman. You can cover yourself if you feel the need. Besides, I was busy taking care of the babies. Sit,” she ordered, then went into the kitchen to bring in the meal she had prepared.

  Connor and Cole placed the drowsy twins back in the crib and came to the dining room behind her.

  Stacy looked over at the McCullough brothers who were taking their seats at the table, Connor at its head and Cole across from her.

  Connor smiled as he observed, “You look better now, Stacy. I don’t mind admitting that I was getting worried about you.”

  Cole avoided making eye contact with her. She suspected she knew why.

  “It was you, wasn’t it?” she asked him. “You came in and covered me. Why didn’t you wake me up?”

  “Because you looked so peaceful.” Not to mention beautiful, he thought, looking at the fiery redhead. And then Cole stopped abruptly. “That was a trick, wasn’t it?”

  “I don’t know what you mean,” Stacy answered innocently.

  He would have denied being the one who covered her if Stacy hadn’t distracted him by asking why he hadn’t woken her up. Blue eyes met blue. “I don’t remember you being devious.”

  Stacy smiled, tossing her head and sending waves of red swinging about her face. “I prefer to think of it as resourceful—and that’s something I’ve had to become. Resourceful, not devious,” she clarified.

  The strong aroma of fried chicken preceded Rita as she came in carrying a large heaping platter of legs and breasts. The housekeeper placed it in the middle of the table.

  “That smells heavenly,” Stacy told the woman with deep appreciation.

  Rita beamed. “I know. Mashed potatoes and green beans are coming,” she announced.

  Stacy began to get up. “Let me help you with that.”

  Rita pushed the chair back in under her. For a small lady, the housekeeper was surprisingly strong.