Twins on the Doorstep

by Marie Ferrarella

  Stacy felt tears forming in her eyes. She tried to blink them back, but they only slipped out.

  “They’re so little. And so helpless,” she told him, her voice cracking.

  Cole put his arm around her. “And they’re going to grow up nice and healthy and bigger than you are,” he told her. “Trust me.”

  Stacy let out a very shaky breath. “It’s not up to you.”

  “No,” Cole agreed. “But the faith part comes in when you have it about the one who it is up to.”

  She found herself wishing she could be like Cole: easygoing and trusting. “It’s not as easy for me as it is for you,” she told him.

  He smiled at Stacy. “It’s not easy for me.”

  Dan walked in just then with a box of small packets in his hands. “I want you to dissolve one of these in each of their bottles twice a day until the packets are all gone. That should take care of any remaining fever as well as the infection they seemed to have gotten. It’s not as uncommon as you think,” he assured Stacy and Cole. “Call me anytime if you have any questions or concerns, but if all goes well, these two are going to be back to their normal, healthy, noisy little selves within twenty-four hours,” Dan promised.

  “That fast?” Stacy questioned uncertainly.

  Dan nodded. “Kids can have a high fever in the morning, be fine in the afternoon and suffer a slight relapse in the evening only to be a hundred percent well the next morning. They’re resilient that way. The bad news is that this sort of thing goes on until they’re about seven, so brace yourselves, you’re in for a bumpy ride,” he told them with a laugh. “Between you and me, as a proud father of three, I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  She felt just the slightest bit better. “I can’t thank you enough,” Stacy told the doctor.

  “You already have. Now, I’ve got to excuse myself,” he told them, crossing the threshold. “I’ve got a clinic to open up.”

  Turning away from them, he went to do just that.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The babies’ fevers broke before noon, first Mikey’s, then Katie’s. By one o’clock, both babies’ foreheads were cool.

  Even so, Stacy refused to let either one of the twins out of her sight. She held them, rocked them and sang to them, separately and together.

  Clucking her tongue at Stacy, Rita brought her lunch to the twins’ bedroom. When she came to clear away the tray an hour later, the housekeeper obviously saw that nothing had been touched.

  Rather than picking it up, Rita just looked down at the tray, frowning.

  “You don’t like my cooking?” she questioned. However, instead of taking offense, the way Stacy expected her to, the woman actually made her an offer. “I can bring you something else.”

  Stacy gave the older woman a contrite smile. “I’m really not hungry right now, Rita. Why don’t you just leave that?” she suggested. Sitting in the rocking chair, she was rocking Mikey to sleep. Katie had already drifted off and was in the crib, asleep. “I’ll eat it later.”

  Rita’s frown deepened just a tad. “Later it won’t be warm.”

  “I’m sure it’s good cold, too,” Stacy told the housekeeper. “Everything you make is delicious.”

  Rita leveled a look at her, as if to tell her that flattery wasn’t going to get her off the hook. “Mr. Cole and Mr. Connor won’t be happy when they come back and find out that you are not eating.”

  It had been hard enough convincing Cole that he could leave and help Connor with the horses when they got back to the house with the twins this morning. She didn’t need him clucking over her the way Rita was doing.

  Stacy offered the woman her widest, albeit weariest smile. “Then we won’t tell him, will we?”

  Rita passed her hand over Mikey’s forehead, no doubt to reassure herself that the baby’s fever was gone.

  “Maybe you won’t,” Rita began.

  Stacy went all out in her appeal. “Rita, please. I just had the scare of my life with these two little ones. They’re getting better, but my appetite’s going to need some time to recover. The last thing I want—or need—is a lecture from Cole.”

  Rita pressed her lips together, a sure sign that she was suppressing some well-chosen words.

  Sighing dramatically, Rita said, “It is against my better judgment, but have it your way.” She paused, lingering over the crib and the other twin. She touched Katie’s forehead so lightly the baby didn’t wake up. “Thank heavens their fevers are gone.” Still looking down at Katie, she glanced over toward the other infant in Stacy’s arms. “They are getting bigger. Soon they are going to need to be in separate cribs.”

  Stacy thought of the money her aunt had left her. There wasn’t enough for a lavish lifestyle, but that sort of thing had never interested her. She just needed enough to get by until she eventually found work. But for now, since she was still staying here, she could afford to buy a second crib.

  “That won’t be a problem,” Stacy told the housekeeper.

  Rita said something under her breath in Spanish. Stacy couldn’t tell from the woman’s tone if she was saying something antagonistic, merely critical or just neutral. For now, Stacy thought it was more prudent to just let it go. She felt too tired and dull to engage in any sort of a lengthy verbal exchange.

  After Rita left, Stacy rose from the rocking chair, and moving very slowly, she laid the sleeping infant in the crib near his twin. She held her breath, waiting, but Mikey continued sleeping, as did Katie.

  Stacy returned to her rocking chair. Wanting to be there the minute one or both of the twins woke up, she sat, waiting.

  It wasn’t too long before Stacy found herself dozing off. She knew that she could just go to her own room right next door, but for now proximity meant everything to her. She needed to reassure herself that the twins were all right the minute she opened her eyes.

  * * *

  A SUDDEN, UNEXPECTED thunderstorm delayed Cole and Connor’s return to the house. Not because any road was washed out—there wasn’t enough rain for that—but because the thunder wound up spooking a couple of the horses. They broke out of the corral and took off for open country.

  Cole and Connor were forced to go after the two stallions, wanting to find them before it got dark and the horses ran the risk of falling prey to one or more of the hungry wolves that had been sighted in the area.

  It wasn’t easy, but they kept at it until they managed to find both horses.

  It was well after seven by the time they brought the horses back to the stable and finally walked into the house.

  As if they had phoned ahead to tell her they were returning, Rita was right there when they opened the front door.

  “I have seen drowned rats that have looked better,” Rita told them emotionlessly, greeting the two men at the door with towels.

  “You’re a saint, Rita,” Connor said, taking one of the towels from her and drying off his face and hair.

  “Albeit a sharp-tongued one,” Cole couldn’t help commenting, taking the other towel and vigorously rubbing it over his head. He felt as if he was wet clear down to the bone. “What about the twins?” he asked. He hadn’t seen the babies in the last eight hours and he had found himself worrying about them. “How are they doing?”

  “Much better. Their appetites are back and they finished their bottles. Twice,” Rita happily reported. “Which is more than I can say for Miss Stacy.”

  Cole stopped toweling his hair and looked at the woman. “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “I mean that she has not been out of their room except to get their bottles,” Rita answered, disapproval dripping from each word.

  Connor placed the towel down on the coffee table. “Has she eaten?” he asked Rita.

  “No. I have brought her two trays, one with her lunch, one with her
dinner when you did not return at the usual time.” She paused for effect, then said, “I left the second tray next to the first one. I am willing to bet that they are both still exactly where I put them, untouched.”

  That was all he needed. Cole hurried over to the stairs.

  “You need to eat, too,” Rita called after him. “And to get out of those wet clothes.”

  “Later,” he tossed over his shoulder, taking the stairs two at a time to the second floor.

  Stacy stifled a startled squeal when the door to the twins’ room flew open and Cole walked in, leaving drops of rainwater on the floor to mark his passage.

  “You get caught in the rain?”

  He saw the trays butted up against each other. As Rita had predicted, there was nothing touched on either one of them. Didn’t Stacy realize that she needed to keep up her strength? Sometimes, she could really exasperate him—or was that just frustration because he wanted her so much? Wanted what he knew he couldn’t have. She’d made that clear by leaving Forever with her aunt.

  “No,” he answered Stacy sarcastically. “I swam back home.”

  Stacy didn’t even react to his sarcasm. She blinked, trying to focus and wishing he wouldn’t look at her like that, making her feel vulnerable. Taking a breath, she asked Cole, “What time is it, anyway?”

  “Late,” he answered. Taking a breath and telling himself that upbraiding her for not taking care of herself would just have the opposite effect on her—she had always been as contrary as hell—he tried talking to her as if they were nothing more than friends. “The thunder spooked a couple of the horses. It took us this long to find them.”

  She nodded, as if this was an everyday occurrence. “You should change,” she told him, looking down at the puddle forming at his feet. “And eat.”

  He found her suggestion ironic. “I could say the same thing to you.”

  “Why?” Too tired to get out of the rocking chair, Stacy remained sitting and gazed up at Cole. “I haven’t been out in the rain.”

  “According to Rita, you’ve hardly been out of the room. And you haven’t eaten,” he said, gesturing toward the two trays the housekeeper had prepared and left on top of the bureau.

  “The twins’ fever is gone, just like Dr. Dan told us it would be.”

  As far as Cole was concerned, it only reinforced the point he was trying to get across to her. “Then why haven’t you eaten?”

  Stacy lifted her shoulders in a half shrug. “I’m not really hungry. I could stand to lose a few pounds,” she interjected, hoping he’d accept that not eating was a choice on her part.

  His eyes washed over her. “Only if you want to fill in as some farmer’s scarecrow,” he replied. “If you lose a few pounds, Stacy, you’re going to be nothing but skin and bones.”

  Stacy laughed drily. “Words every woman wants to hear.”

  “You want words every woman wants to hear?” His hands on either side of the rocking chair’s arms, he leaned in and with his face less than five inches from hers, he told her, “Go to bed.”

  Stacy raised her chin defensively. “You’re not in charge of me.”

  “I am if you collapse in my house,” Cole countered. Taking her by the wrist, he was about to raise her out of the chair and take her over to the neglected trays of food.

  Annoyed, Stacey yanked her wrist free. Didn’t he think she could take care of herself? That she knew if she needed to eat or not?

  “I’m fine,” she snapped at him. “Now go take care of yourself. Eat. And for heaven’s sake, change your clothes.” She wrinkled her nose. “You smell of rain and sweat.”

  He sighed, knowing it would do no good to argue with Stacy when she was like this. Turning on his heel, he walked out.

  She was right, he needed to get out of his wet clothes. More than that, he needed to cool off. She’d managed, in the space of a few minutes, to press all his buttons, and right now he didn’t trust himself not to say things to her that he couldn’t take back once he calmed down.

  “How is she?” Connor asked when Cole finally came downstairs again, this time in dry clothes.

  “Peppery,” Cole answered, sitting down at the dining room table.

  “Well, I think you’ve come to expect that,” Connor commented. He had already helped himself to the pot roast as well as an assortment of vegetables that Rita had made for dinner. “Still, I always liked Stacy. If you ask my opinion—”

  Cole took a serving of pot roast. He was choosier with the vegetables, taking only the potatoes and carrots. “I’m going to get it if I ask for it or not, aren’t I?” he asked stoically.

  Connor went on as if his brother hadn’t said anything. “She’s the nicest girl out of all the ones you ever went out with. I actually thought the two of you were getting close to a commitment.” He paused before asking, “What happened?”

  Cole avoided his brother’s eyes. “She took off,” he said matter-of-factly, stating something that they were both aware of.

  “And you didn’t have anything to do with that?” Connor asked his brother.

  Cole put his fork down and sighed as he looked at his brother. “Why all the questions? You really need a life, Connor,” he concluded.

  “I have a life.” Connor finished the piece of roast beef he was eating. “The ranch and my family are my life, and right now, one of my family is in danger of having the best thing that ever happened to him slip through his fingers.”

  Cole looked at him, confused. “Just how did we go from my saying she’s peppery to this?”

  “When you’re my age, you get pretty good at filling in the blanks,” Connor answered.

  Ignoring his dinner, Cole just stared at his brother. “What do you mean, your age? You’re only two years older than I am,” he pointed out.

  “And a hell of a lot smarter, apparently,” Connor said. “All I’m saying is that Stacy left once. She’s back now so you’ve got another chance. Make sure you don’t wind up blowing it.”

  He wanted to tell Connor that he was wrong, that his big brother was sticking his nose into something that didn’t concern him. But in both cases, Cole couldn’t say that. Because having Stacy back did feel like a second chance and, just as importantly, because they were McCulloughs and family business was their business—even if it drove him crazy to be the recipient of all this so-called wise advice from Connor.

  “I won’t blow it,” Cole finally said. “As long as you promise to back off a little.” He finished his vegetables first. He’d always liked ending his meal with meat. “You know I’m not at my best with you looking over my shoulder, watching my every move.”

  “Well, somebody’s got to keep you from going over the cliff—but I’ll back off,” Connor said to placate Cole for the time being. “Are the twins doing okay?”

  Relieved to change the subject, Cole nodded. “The worst of it seems to be over. You know—” he reached for the apple pie and cut himself a slice now that he’d finished with dinner “—I don’t know how Mom and Dad did it, Mom with the three of us and Dad with all four.” Suddenly, all the sacrifices that his older brother had made for them came to mind. “For that matter, I really don’t know how you did it.”

  Connor smiled. “Well, for one thing, I didn’t have much of a choice.”

  That was a crock and Connor knew it, Cole thought. “Yes, you did. You could have just gone off to college like you were planning to before Dad died.”

  Finished, Connor pushed his dinner plate aside. “And what kind of a person would that have made me?” he asked. “Leaving the three of you to be split up and placed with who knows what kind of people? I might be selfish, but I’m not that selfish.”

  Cole looked at his brother as if Connor had taken leave of his senses. “You don’t have a selfish bone in your body. You never had. And I guess I never said th
is to you,” he said, feeling a tinge of guilt, “but I really appreciate the sacrifice you made for Cody and Cassidy and me. And I know that they do.”

  Obviously embarrassed, Connor shrugged off his brother’s gratitude. “We were all in this together. No need to thank me.”

  “Yeah, there is,” Cole insisted. “I never really thought much about it until now, but there’s a huge need to thank you. If you hadn’t stepped up the way that you did, there’s no telling how any of our lives would have turned out.”

  “You still would have been you, just as Cody and Cassidy would have still been who they are. Everything would have worked itself out. It usually does.”

  “Damn it, Connor,” Cole said, frustrated, “I’m trying to thank you. Just accept it and stop telling me I don’t need to.”

  “Okay, gratitude accepted,” Connor told him. “Now, why don’t you go back upstairs and see if you can coax Stacy out with some of Rita’s fantastic apple pie?” he suggested, waving his hand at the pie that Rita had baked less than an hour ago. It was going fast. “I just had a piece myself and my mouth is still smiling. If this doesn’t get Stacy to eat, nothing will. But get her down here fast before I’m tempted to eat the rest of it.”

  “I’ve got a better idea,” Cole told him. “I’m going to bodily carry Stacy out of the room and bring her down to the table.”

  “You’re going to strong-arm her?” Connor asked. “I’d do it carefully if I were you. That little lady is a lot tougher than she looks.”

  “That’s okay,” Cole told Connor. “I’ll just toss her over my shoulder, fireman style.”

  Connor didn’t bother hiding his amused smile as he helped himself to more pie. “If you say so.”

  Taking the piece he had cut for Stacy, Cole didn’t bother answering as he left the room.

  A little extra ammunition never hurt.

  Chapter Fifteen