“Nah,” the boy said, using a fist to rub his eyes as he glanced up at his father, who was sitting on the edge of the small bed. “We got lots of ideas of our own.”
Jared chuckled again. It was a nightly con. He always tucked the boys into bed and told them a story. The boys particularly enjoyed the stories he told about the trouble he and his brothers used to get into. Every night the twins tried to finagle an extra few minutes by pleading for another story.
Glancing at his sons, Jared found his heart filled with love. He really didn’t mind, because it gave him some quiet, private time with the boys, time to simply enjoy them. A rarity in his very busy day. But this time every night was sacred.
He was always tired—exhausted, usually—but it was a satisfying feeling. His workday was finally done, all the chores behind him except for the never-ending paperwork, and he had nothing on his mind but spending time with the boys. Time he cherished.
He ruffled Terry’s hair. “Well, as your dad, I can vouch for the fact that you’ve got enough ideas of your own. But it’s a school night, sport, and you need your sleep.”
Terry scowled. “No it’s not, Dad. We don’t got school tomorrow cuz of Thanksgiving.”
Jared’s brows rose suspiciously. “Thanksgiving isn’t until Thursday.”
“Yeah, Dad, but tomorrow is Thursday. Uncle Jake’s coming home and we’re gonna be in the Thanksgiving pageant and parade, remember?”
Jared frowned. Was it Thanksgiving already? He’d been so busy on the ranch getting ready for winter, and so preoccupied—no, so content, he mentally corrected—that the time had flown by. He remembered the day less than a month ago when he’d come in dead tired and found the boys nearly bouncing out of their shoes with excitement about having been chosen to be in the Saddle Falls Thanksgiving parade. Natalie had spent the last few weeks working late into the night sewing their Pilgrim costumes.
“So we don’t gotta go to school until Monday,” Timmy informed him, rubbing his eyes with his fists. “So come on, Dad, just one more story? Please?”
“Well, don’t you have to be wide awake for the Thanksgiving parade tomorrow?” he asked with a lift of his brow.
“Yeah, but we don’t got to get up too early.”
Jared grinned. “Tomorrow, sport. I promise to tell you two stories tomorrow. And since you don’t have to go to school on Thursday—’
“Turkey day, yeah!” Terry rubbed his stomach in anticipation.
“Yeah, turkey day, sport, I’ll let you stay up an extra hour and watch TV.”
“Great!” Delighted, Terry rolled over, tucking his fists under his pillow, a sure sign he was sleepy. “Dad?”
“Yes, Son?”
“Is Natalie gonna leave?”
“Why on earth would you think Natalie was going to leave?” he asked his son.
It took some effort, but Terry managed a shrug. “Dunno.” He yawned, closing his eyes and snuggling deeper beneath the covers. “Because our mom left, and then all the other nannies left.” He shrugged again. “So is she gonna leave, too?”
Jared brushed a hand over the little boy’s head, feeling a deep, aching sadness in his heart. No wonder the twins expected every female to leave them. First their mom had died, then Kathryn had abandoned them, followed by a parade of nannies who’d come and gone. It pained him to know his sons had been hurt, at such a young age.
“No, Son,” he said gently. “I don’t think Natalie’s going to leave.”
“Could you ask her, Dad?” Terry shifted closer, snuggling against his father. “Cuz Christmas is coming soon and she promised to help make us new stockings for Santa.”
“Yeah, Dad.” Timmy piped up. “And she said we could even help decorate the tree now cuz we’re big.”
His heart filled with love, Jared bent to tuck the covers over Terry and kiss his forehead. “Well then, if she promised to help you make new stockings, and to let you help decorate the tree, then I guess that means she’s not planning on leaving.”
“Think so?” Terry muttered sleepily.
“Yep. I think so.” Jared turned to tuck Timmy in and give him a kiss.
“But could you still ask her, Dad? Please?” Timmy, always the worrier, pressed.
Jared smiled, running a hand over the boy’s head. “Sure, Son. I’ll ask her.” He kissed him again. “I promise. Get some sleep now.”
Rising, Jared glanced at the large Mickey Mouse clock on the nightstand. It had large numbers that glowed in the dark and served as a night-light. Natalie had bought it for the boys that first week, after she’d learned they were afraid of the dark. Other nannies had been critical of him for allowing the boys to have a night-light, but Natalie had merely accepted it and done what was necessary to make the boys comfortable.
He smiled, remembering her telling him that if the twins still needed a night-light when they got married, well then, maybe that would be the time to worry. But until then, it was perfectly normal and natural.
Jared flipped off the overhead light, then gazed at his sons for a long moment, his troubled thoughts on their question as he turned and headed out the door and down the long hall toward the kitchen.
“Are the boys asleep?” Natalie asked, glancing up from the counter she was wiping down when Jared walked into the kitchen.
“Out like two little headlights,” he said, letting his gaze take her in. The kitchen window was open, allowing a crisp fall breeze to blow in, ruffling the white curtains at the window and gently stirring her hair, which she’d absently tucked behind her ears as she worked.
“Would you like some coffee?” Natalie asked as Jared headed toward the stove. “It’s fresh and still hot, I think.” With a smile, she laid down her dishcloth and reached for the pot. Jared reached for it at the same time and their fingers brushed, his covering hers.
Both of them froze for a moment.
Natalie slowly lifted her gaze to his, surprised to find him studying her curiously, those beautiful blue eyes clouded with an emotion she couldn’t read.
Contact with him, even the slightest brush of their fingers always triggered something in her, something foreign and just a bit frightening. There was something powerful in Jared’s touch, something that made her heart ache and her soul yearn.
No matter how she tried to deny it, her feelings didn’t lie.
With a confidence that belied the tension storming within her, Natalie held his gaze. Heat streaking through her tense body from his casual touch, she tried to ignore the wild pounding of her pulse, her heart.
“Sorry.” Forcing a bright smile, she relinquished the pot handle to him. Ever since Halloween night, when they’d gone to dinner and confided so much in each other—and Jared had kissed her in a way that left her heart and her head spinning—she’d tried hard to ignore the feelings that coursed through her every time he came near. Tried to ignore the feelings she could no longer deny.
In spite of everything, she was falling in love with Jared Ryan.
And she knew such a thing could have disastrous consequences.
But she was powerless to stop it, and at a loss as to what to do about it. She enjoyed the time they spent together. Every evening now, when Jared came in, they would have dinner with the kids. Then she cleaned up the kitchen and make lunches for the next day while Jared gave the boys their baths and tucked them in.
Just like a real family.
There was no way she could deny that she was enjoying—relishing—the feeling of normalcy being here had given her. For the first time since the twins had been born, she felt as if she was giving them a normal family life. For the first time she felt content, at peace.
And she knew Jared was the cause of those feelings.
Tonight, she’d been lollygagging, happily daydreaming about Thanksgiving while making preparations for the big dinner she was cooking, and finishing up some last-minute details on the boys’ costumes for the parade tomorrow. As a result, she hadn’t quite finished cleaning up the kitchen when Jare
d came in.
A little off balance since she’d realized the depth of her feelings for him, Natalie picked up her dishrag and continued wiping down the counter, forcing her smile to remain in place. She didn’t want to reveal how she felt; it simply wouldn’t be fair to either of them. If Jared ever learned the truth, there was no way they could have a future together, and she’d be foolish to believe otherwise.
“Did Timmy tell you he got an A on his spelling quiz today?” she asked brightly, glancing up at Jared, surprised to find he was still standing there, staring at her.
“No, he didn’t.” He smiled, reached out to brush a stray strand of hair behind her ear, letting his fingers linger for a moment. It was the first time he’d touched her all day, and he found he’d been looking forward to it. “That’s terrific. I guess he’s learning his letters better?”
She nodded, trying not to shiver from his touch. “Definitely. I’m very pleased with his progress. And the ophthalmologist today confirmed that Timmy’s vision is perfect.”
“You’ve worked very hard with him, Nat, I know that. Tommy tells me you’ve spent at least an hour every day painstakingly printing letters and numbers with Timmy, making a game out of it so it doesn’t seem boring or monotonous to him.”
She shrugged, uncomfortable with the praise, since it wasn’t anything special, nothing any other mother wouldn’t do with a child who was struggling in school.
“It’s my job, Jared,” she said softly.
“Yes,” he said carefully. “It is. But you’ve gone way beyond the call of duty with your devotion and care of the boys.”
“I love them,” she said simply, no longer afraid for him to see the intense emotion she had for the boys. “They’re truly wonderful kids.”
“They love you, too,” he said softly. She looked so perfect standing there in the kitchen, apron around her waist, dishrag in her hand, cleaning up just like any other wife or mother would after dinner.
Lost in his own thoughts, he continued to study her, still thinking about Terry’s question about her leaving.
He simply couldn’t bear the thought of her not being in their life.
“Jared?” She searched his face, saw something that made her stomach quiver. “What?” Instinctively, Natalie dropped the dishcloth and took a step closer, tension coursing through her. “Jared, what is it? Is something wrong?” Absently, she laid a hand on his bare arm, ignoring the warmth of his skin, the muscled strength beneath. “Are the boys all right?”
“The boys are fine, Natalie,” he said softly, reaching out to stroke a finger down her cheek. He’d waited all day to see her, to touch her, and now that she was here, right in front of him, he simply couldn’t resist.
She was standing so close to him now that every breath he took was filled with her fabulously feminine scent. It was incredibly intoxicating and made him want to draw her close and bury his face in her hair, the long, slender column of her neck.
“That’s not the look of ‘the boys are fine,”’ she said skeptically, making him grin.
“Natalie,” he began slowly, not certain how to phrase this. He was still reeling from the realization of how he felt about her. He had no idea how she might react if she knew, and he didn’t want to do anything to make her uncomfortable around him. “The boys are very concerned about something. And they wanted me to talk to you about it.”
“What?” Her gaze searched his. “What is it? Have I done something to upset them?” Her heart was hammering and her hand unconsciously tightened on his arm.
“No,” he said with a gentle smile, taking her hand in his and holding it, relishing the soft silkiness, needing to have some physical connection to her. “It’s nothing like that.”
Relieved, she nodded. “Then what is it, Jared?” She clung tighter to his hand, as if bracing herself for a blow. “Please, just tell me. You can tell me anything.”
His smile was slow and heartbreakingly sweet. “I know that, Nat,” he said quietly, thinking about the night he’d told her about Kathryn and Jesse. Afterward, he’d lay in bed wondering why on earth he’d told her. Because he felt so comfortable with her, he realized now. Because he trusted her. Because he wanted her to be part of his life—his heart.
“The boys are concerned…” His voice trailed off and he looked helplessly at her. “The boys are worried that you’re going to leave.”
“Leave?” Caught off balance, Natalie merely stared at him, then shook her head. “I don’t understand, Jared. Why on earth would they think I was leaving?”
“Why wouldn’t they think you were leaving?” He smiled that slow, lazy smile that was somehow heartbreakingly sad. “In their experience, that’s what women do.” He shrugged. “They leave. First their mother, then Kathryn, then every other nanny—woman—who’s been in their life.”
“And so they think I’m going to leave them, too?” Stung, Natalie reeled for a moment, then quickly righted herself. She’d forgotten she could still be hurt, forgotten that she wasn’t immune to pain, not when it came to the boys.
The moment the boys had disappeared, it was as if everything inside of her had frozen, shriveled and then died, to prevent her from feeling anything. Because if she had been able to feel, she would have to deal with the reality of what had happened, and she simply could not endure the pain of having lost her children.
She simply hadn’t been able to cope with it, and so, as an act of self-preservation, she’d shut down her feelings, withdrawing into herself as a desperate form of protection.
Raymond had hurt her, yes, but by then her marriage was in serious trouble. She’d seen the real man beneath Raymond’s charming facade, seen how she’d been deceived and, more importantly, used.
It had hurt, but she’d managed to cope with it, because by then her own feelings for him had long since withered and died, killed by his lies and cruelty.
But the feelings for her children were not something she could simply ignore, and the pain of their loss had been so enormous she’d done the only thing she could to survive—she’d stopped allowing herself to feel.
But now, looking up at Jared, letting his words sink in, she realized it hurt deeply to know that her boys feared losing her, feared that she’d leave them. That they, too, had been hurt, hurt to the point where they expected to be left, to be abandoned.
They were far too young and innocent to have such terrible expectations, she realized sadly, and the mere thought almost broke her heart. She would never leave her children, would never have been separated from them by choice.
But she’d had no choice.
Because of it, her children had been victimized by a series of women who had not loved or understood them enough to stay with them, nurture them or care for them. And the knowledge hurt.
“Oh, Jared.” Shaking her head, Natalie glanced down so he wouldn’t see the sudden tears that filled her eyes. It had been a long time since she’d allowed herself the luxury of tears. Now she couldn’t help it.
“I know,” he said, understanding perfectly how she felt. He slipped his arms around her waist and gathered her close, wanting to comfort her, to ease her pain. Absently, he kissed the top of her head, savoring her wonderfully feminine scent.
She loved the boys completely and unconditionally, that was obvious—enough that their pain affected her. The fact moved him deeply.
“Don’t cry,” he said softly, touched beyond measure by the caring, the compassion this woman had for his boys. “I didn’t tell you this to upset you.” Gently, he rubbed her back, letting his fingers trail over the soft cotton of her shirt, feeling her warmth pressed against him, comforting him in return. “But so that, hopefully, we might be able to come up with a way to reassure them.”
He rested his head against the top of her head, smiling because she’d stiffened when he’d pulled her into his arms, as if it still surprised her that he wanted to.
He had a feeling, judging from the look that came over her every time they touched, that she
hadn’t had much experience with men.
She looked almost surprised that there was this attraction between them—strong, vibrant, almost a living, breathing entity. He suspected that she didn’t quite understand it or recognize it.
Unfortunately, he couldn’t claim the same ignorance. He not only understood and recognized it, but was beginning to enjoy it, despite the fact that warning bells should have been going off in his head.
“Considering their history, I think the boys’ expectations are perfectly understandable, don’t you?” he asked quietly, drawing back to look at her. Using his thumb, he wiped away a tear.
“Absolutely,” she admitted, feeling guilt crash over her like a tidal wave, engulfing her—guilt that she’d failed to protect her children from the pain of being hurt, of loss, of the fear of abandonment.
Her sons had been defenseless, at the mercy of strangers, and she hadn’t been around to protect them or to do anything about it. Her fists clenched as the full impotency of the situation hit her once more.
From the moment the boys had been born, the moment she’d glanced down and seen their beautiful faces, something had erupted inside of her. It was a kind of fierce, loving protectiveness, the sort she’d never have believed possible if she hadn’t actually experienced it herself.
From that moment on, she’d mistakenly believed she could protect her children from any kind of pain, shield them from all of life’s sorrows. She’d believed it simply because she loved her sons so fiercely she knew she’d do everything necessary to protect her boys and always keep them safe.
It had been a sad and bitter lesson to learn she couldn’t.
How could she have been so wrong?
She was their mother, and yet she’d failed to protect her boys, on so many levels that she wasn’t certain they’d ever be able to forgive her.
Worse, she wasn’t at all certain she’d ever be able to forgive herself for the untold damage that had been done to her children, damage she’d been helpless to prevent.
Resolutely, she blinked her tears away, then sniffed, tilting her head to look at Jared, forcing herself to hold his gaze. “But Jared, I have no intention of leaving the boys. I can honestly say the thought has never even crossed my mind.” She hesitated, choosing her words very carefully, knowing she couldn’t afford to say anything that might give herself and her real purpose away. “I like it here very much. You’ve made me feel more than welcome.” Lowering her gaze, Natalie glanced at the buttons on Jared’s work shirt, unable to continue looking directly at him because it made her pulse dance so wickedly. “You’ve all treated me almost like…family,” she said softly, ignoring the bitter remorse that nibbled away at her for the deception she was playing on all of them.
Anything for Her Family Page 10
