by Kara Lennox
Luke looked at Eli. “Well, that was easier than I expected it to be. Bobby, come along with me. You’re under arrest for reckless disregard, criminal mischief, public endangerment, insurance fraud and anything else I can come up with.”
“You can’t arrest me!” Bobby blustered. “I’m the mayor!”
“Mayors are not immune to arrest,” Luke said, blocking Bobby’s way when it looked like the mayor would try to just walk away. “They’re not above the law, either.”
Bobby drew himself up. “I’ll have your job, Luke McNeil.”
“I think it’s the other way around,” Luke said as he pulled handcuffs from a leather case. “Now, are you going to step inside, or do we do this the hard way?”
Bobby slapped Luke’s hand away as the sheriff tried to escort him toward the office. In a movement fast as a striking snake, Luke had Bobby against the car, his hands cuffed behind his back, while Bobby blustered and cursed.
Eli thought this was just about the wildest thing he’d seen since arriving in Jester. But that was before he saw his wife barreling toward him down the sidewalk, her hair in curlers and an afghan around her shoulders.
“Eli, oh, Eli, I’m so glad I spotted that DeSoto.” She skidded to a stop, huffing and puffing. “I’ve made a terrible mistake. I was so dumb to think you could have stolen anything from me. It was Wyla Thorne all along.”
“What?” all three men said at the same time. Even Bobby had stopped struggling and cursing to find out more about the latest scandal.
“Wyla stole checks from me and…forged your…” She didn’t finish the sentence as a look of agony came over her face and she clutched her abdomen. Eli darted toward her and caught her as she was about to collapse on the sidewalk.
“Gwen,” Luke said, “are you okay?”
She opened her eyes. “I’m fine. Just a little labor.”
No words had ever struck Eli with such mortal fear. “Someone call an ambulance!”
Luke shook his head. “It takes forever for an ambulance to get here from Pine Run. Better just take her over to the clinic and let Doc Perkins or Conner O’Rourke—”
“No,” Gwen objected. “I know both doctors are excellent, but if the babies are born now, they’ll be premature. They’ll need the neonatal unit in Pine Run. Luke, can you drive us?” She looked at Luke, then Bobby, then Luke again. “Why is the mayor in handcuffs?”
“Long story,” Luke said. “But I am a little tied up.” He pulled his keys from his pocket and tossed them to Eli. “Take my truck. Run the siren if you have to.”
Eli felt a little weak-kneed himself as he helped Gwen to Luke’s SUV. He was amazed Luke would trust him with an official vehicle. He was sure the sheriff was breaking all kinds of laws.
Just as he was about to close the passenger door, Sylvia Rutledge appeared to give Gwen her coat. “You are going to catch pneumonia,” she scolded. “You’re completely crazy. You know that, right?”
“Yes,” Gwen readily agreed.
“Call and let me know what’s happening, okay?”
Gwen nodded. She looked scared, but not half as scared as Eli felt. He ran around to the driver’s side, climbed behind the wheel, and peeled off.
“How long have you been having contractions?” he demanded.
“I’m not sure. I’ve felt peculiar all day, like the babies were doing karate moves in there. Still, Eli, really, there’s no point in speeding. Babies take hours to be—owwww!”
Eli resisted the urge to stamp down on the accelerator. He was already going above the speed limit, and there was always the chance of hitting a patch of ice. Visualizing the consequences of winding up in a ditch, he forced himself to slow down to a reasonable speed. He took several deep breaths.
“Maybe you should let me drive,” Gwen suggested with a shaky laugh.
“I’m fine. You just tell those girls not to be so impatient.”
“Um, Eli? I don’t think…they’re listening.”
He looked at her and realized she was contracting again. “This is ridiculous. No one goes into labor and has a baby five minutes later.”
“Tell that to Thing One and Thing Two!”
“But your water hasn’t broken yet.”
“Oh, yes, it did. A while ago.”
“Gwen, what were you waiting for?”
“For you!” Her eyes filled with tears. “I was not going through this without you. Now pull over.”
“What?”
“Pull over! You can’t drive and deliver babies at the same time.”
Chapter Fourteen
Eli’s eyes were filled with raw panic, but Gwen felt oddly calm. She’d been waiting for this moment for so long. Now, when it was here, it felt a lot different than she’d expected. She’d thought she would be frightened out of her wits. But some latent maternal instinct had taken over. She would be fine, and her babies would be fine. With Eli here, nothing could go wrong.
“See if you can figure out Luke’s radio and call for an ambulance,” Gwen said serenely. “I’m moving to the back seat where I can stretch out.”
“Are you serious? You’re actually going to have the babies now?”
“I don’t know.” She stopped as another contraction hit, this one harder than the others. She panted through the pain. Okay, it wasn’t so bad. She could do this. “But I ought to be prepared, just in case.” She opened the door, climbed out, and somehow managed to get herself into the back seat without major difficulty. She dragged Stella’s afghan with her. It had become her security blanket.
Eli blathered something into the radio. Through blind luck he’d managed to reach the sheriff’s office in Pine Run. After some convoluted explanations, the dispatch officer agreed to send an ambulance.
Eli looked through the grillwork that separated front seat from back. “How are you doing?”
Gwen had already removed the necessary clothing. She’d spread her coat under her, to protect Luke’s car, and she’d spread the afghan over her legs for warmth.
“I’m doing fine. You want to join me?”
“Me? Back there?”
“Someone has to catch the babies.”
He went pale. “Gwen, I can’t deliver babies.”
But her next contraction overrode his objection. “Eliiiii! Don’t wimp out on me now.”
He scrambled from the front to the back seat. “Tell me what to do.”
“There’s a first-aid kit under the front seat,” she said. “See if you can find anything useful.”
“Like what?” He pulled the box out. “Bingo. Sterile rubber gloves. And a moist towelette. And cotton swabs.”
“And I’m sure—” She stopped to pant.
Eli squeezed her hand. “It’s okay, baby. You’re doing great.”
“…there might be a blanket in the back. It might not be sterile, but it would help keep the babies warm.”
Sure enough, Eli found a blanket in the cargo area.
“Eli? Something’s happening.”
“I’m right here, sweetheart. Just take your time.”
“I’m so sorry, Eli,” Gwen blurted out. “I never should have doubted you. It was Wyla. She was mad about not buying a lottery ticket the week we won. She forged your signature—”
“Don’t worry about that now.”
“I have to. I refuse to let my babies be born while we’re still fighting.”
“We’re not fighting anymore.”
“Then just let me talk. It keeps my mind off the pain. Is there any chance you’ll ever forgive me?”
“Oh, baby, I do forgive you. Anyway, it was half my fault. You were right to be suspicious of me. The evidence was piling up, and I wasn’t lifting a finger to calm your doubts. I just expected you to totally trust me. I think in some twisted way—breathe, Gwen.”
She started panting, like they’d taught her in childbirth class. “Go…on.”
“I had some crazy idea that real love meant automatic trust.”
“But I should have
trusted you,” she said.
“No, Gwen. Not when I wasn’t being open with you. That’s the flip side of trust. I wasn’t willing to trust you with things from my past, especially the less pleasant things.”
“Like the bankruptcy.”
“I paid back every one of my creditors. It took a few years, but I did. If I’d just told you that, it would have put you somewhat at ease.”
“Yes, it would have,” she agreed.
“Oh, and the fact I changed my name? There’s no dark secret behind that. When I was sixteen, and I wanted to get my driver’s license—uh, Gwen, something definitely is happening.”
“Okay, don’t panic, just keep talking. When you…got your…driver’s license…”
“I had to have a birth certificate. That’s when I found out my real name. Oh, my God, there’s a head. I think you’re supposed to push.”
“I’m pushing. Just keep talking. What was your real name?”
“John Doe Number Three.”
Gwen wanted to cry. How horrible! But she was too excited and too happy to burst into tears. She was about to become a mother.
“Eli Garrett is a very nice name.” She paused and scrunched up her face.
“Breathe.”
“I’m breathing. Did you pick out your name yourself?”
“No. I was always called that. Some nice nurse or social worker picked it out. They just neglected to put it on—oh! Oh, jeez, oh, jeez, this is scary.”
She gave one final push.
“It’s a girl,” Eli said needlessly, his voice thick with emotion. “Will you look at that?”
Gwen laughed and cried at the same time. The infant was unbelievably tiny, but she looked perfect. Then Gwen realized the baby wasn’t crying. “Eli? She’s too quiet.”
Eli held the baby upside down. “C’mon, little one, get some air into those lungs.”
Obediently the baby coughed, then started up a thready cry. His hands shaking, Eli handed the baby to Gwen, who wrapped it in the blanket. She barely had time to catch her breath before the second baby made an appearance. It all happened so quickly, Gwen didn’t even have a chance to appreciate the first one before she had two in her arms.
A siren in the distance was the most reassuring noise Gwen had ever heard.
“Look what you did,” Eli said in awe as he gazed on his daughters.
“No, what we did. It’s not like I could have conceived them by myself. How do you feel about Bonnie and Belinda?”
“Just like that?”
“I think I had to see them first. Anyway, after what you just told me, I want to be sure they have names before the birth certificates end up with Thing One and Thing Two on them.”
He grinned. “Bonnie and Belinda suit me fine.” He paused. “Gwen?”
“Yes, Eli?”
“I love you. I’ve loved you all along, but I didn’t want to admit it, even to myself. I was too afraid you didn’t love me back. I guess that’s why I was trying to make you prove it.”
Gwen’s eyes, already teary, overflowed. “Oh, Eli, silly man. I fell in love with you that morning when I woke up with those ridiculous teddy bears on my bed. I knew a man who could walk through an airport carrying those bears for his daughters was one who was worth keeping. Do you want to hold them?”
Eli’s face once again reflected panic. He backed into the farthest corner of the back seat. “No, no, they look perfectly happy where they are.”
“Eli Garrett, are you afraid of these teeny, tiny babies?”
“A little. Are they breathing?”
“Yes, they’re breathing. They’re perfect. And we’re going to be fine—aren’t we?”
“We’re going to be fantastic.”
Gwen closed her eyes and took a deep breath of satisfaction. In the coming hours, as doctors poked and prodded and applauded her performance and complimented her beautiful babies, she could do nothing but offer a dazed smile. Her life had been transformed from pure misery to bliss in the span of a few short hours.
Maybe she and Eli would have found their way back together eventually, but she would forever believe it was the birth of their twins that had hastened the reconciliation. Bonnie and Belinda really were Fortune’s Twins, but not for the reasons Harvey Brinkman believed. Her good fortune had nothing to do with winning the lottery, and everything to do with her new and wonderful family.
“LET’S CALL this meeting to order,” said Dev Devlin. No one was really in charge of the Jester Merchant’s Association, but since Dev was hosting the meeting at The Heartbreaker Saloon, he acted as master of ceremonies.
Present at the meeting were Dev, Amanda, and the youngest of their four adopted children, two-year-old Betsy, curled in her mother’s lap; Dean Kenning and Finn Hollis, who had set up a game of dominoes in case the meeting got boring; Sam and Ruby Cade; Sylvia Rutledge; Shelly and Conner O’Rourke, Shelly so pregnant Eli wondered if she was about to deliver twins; Jack and Melinda Hartman and their dog, Buck, who’d sneaked in on their heels; Luke and Jennifer McNeil; and Gwen and Eli along with Bonnie and Belinda. Eli had known it was folly bringing babies to the merchant’s meeting, but after two weeks the twins were strong enough to venture out, and everyone wanted to hold them.
“Who’s got old business to discuss?” Dev asked.
“I do,” Dean said. “It’s regarding the hotel.”
A collective groan rose from the group.
“I just thought we ought to have a formal vote, so when I attend the town council meeting next week, I can report that the Merchants Association is unanimously against the project.”
“With Bobby going to jail,” Ruby pointed out, “it’s not like the hotel was a happening thing, anyway.”
“I know,” Dean said. “But I just want to make things official. I’m calling for a vote. All in favor of the hotel, raise your hand.”
Not one hand went up.
“All against?”
Everyone raised their hands. Just then, the door to the bar burst open, and a lovely blond-haired woman with a great tan burst into the room. All eyes were on her.
“What’d I miss?” she asked breathlessly. “I want to vote, too.”
Ruby jumped out of her chair and rushed to hug the newcomer. “Honor Lassiter, you are in big trouble. You’ve been gone two months, and all I got were three lousy postcards!”
“Well, I was busy,” she said with a grin as she pulled a chair up to the group of tables.
“We were just voting on the hotel project,” Finn said.
“Against,” Honor said.
So, this was the infamous Honor Lassiter. She was Ruby’s partner in The Mercantile and one of the lottery winners. Eli had heard all about her from Finn and Dean. After dithering for months about what to do with her money, she’d suddenly packed up and left town to go on an around-the-world vacation. The circumstances had been a bit suspicious, according to Gwen. Honor wasn’t the impulsive type.
Honor looked around the room, her eyes taking in everything—including Jester’s newest residents. “Oh, my gosh, Gwen, are those both yours? And what the heck did you do to your hair?”
Gwen patted the cloud of tight auburn curls that cascaded around her shoulders. “Perm accident.”
“Not my fault,” Sylvia piped in, which she did any time anyone mentioned Gwen’s new do.
Honor redirected her attention toward the twins. “Can I hold them?”
“Wait your turn,” said Shelly, who was cuddling Bonnie while Conner, a pediatrician, held Belinda with practiced ease. “Besides, I need the experience.”
Dev set a glass of white wine in front of Honor. “There. Now quit disrupting the meeting. When we’re done, you can tell us all about your world travels.”
“But don’t you want to know why I’m against the hotel?” Honor asked.
“’Cause it’s a dumb idea?” Jennifer ventured.
“No. Because I’ve decided what I’ll do with my money. Well, some of it, anyway. I’m going to open a bed
and breakfast.” She looked at Gwen. “If it’s okay with you, Gwen.”
Gwen shrugged. “No complaints here. Eli has the perfect house for you, already fixed up—the old Carter place. I’d be more than happy for you to host Harvey Brinkman next time he comes to town.”
“Did I hear my name taken in vain?”
A collective groan arose from the assemblage as the reporter in question sauntered into the room, a photographer trailing behind, trying to look invisible.
“Who let you out of the asylum, Harvey?” asked Conner, though there was no real bite in the comment. The residents of Jester had come to feel a reluctant affection for Harvey, despite his sensational stories. Harvey had developed a real interest in the town of Jester and the effects, good and bad, the lottery win had had on the town. His stories had gradually gained more substance and less flash and fluff.
“I really have to stay on you guys, now that my main snitch has left town.” Harvey’s “main snitch,” as it turned out, was Wyla Thorne. Feeling vengeful after losing out on the lottery jackpot, she’d been feeding tidbits to Harvey for months—including the time and place of Gwen and Eli’s wedding. After her forgery had come to light, she’d skipped town. Luke was optimistic about catching her, though. She’d left behind a very lucrative hog farm.
Eli still hadn’t quite forgiven Harvey for the disgraceful display at the Pine Run courthouse, but Harvey, on threat of dismissal from the paper, had apologized in writing. He’d been a little better since then.
“So, what’d I miss?” Harvey asked, grabbing a chair as if he were one of the gang. He pulled up next to Honor. “Hey, doll, when did you blow back into town? Wanta give me a little exclusive when the meeting’s over?” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
Honor grimaced. “In your dreams, Brinkman. Can we get back to business? Eli, I’d be delighted to talk to you about your house. It would be perfect.”
Dev cleared his throat. “Any more old business? No? Okay, how about new business? I believe Shelly wanted to say something about the Thanksgiving streetlamp decorations.”
“I was thinking neon turkeys.”
Another groan.
“Just kidding. Really, what I wanted to do was turn the responsibility over to someone else, since I’m going to be very busy.” She patted her tummy. “I’ll pay for the decorations.”
