by Marin Thomas
Beth studied the farmhouse. The two-story home appeared as if it had recently received a fresh coat of white paint. Toys were strewn across the porch and a pair of bicycles sat in the yard. A woof echoed through the air.
“Can Bandit come inside?” Javier asked.
“Sure.” Mack chuckled as the twins raced across the grass to unchain their pal. The Lab jumped on the boys, teasing giggles from them. Then the dog went up on hind legs and rested his big paws on Miguel’s shoulders.
“Look, Uncle Mack! Bandit wants to dance.”
Beth couldn’t help but laugh at the trio’s antics. “I assume the boys and Bandit are inseparable.”
“Yeah. The second day Mig and Javi left for school, the dog chased the bus for two miles before the driver spotted him and pulled off the road.”
Beth envisioned the black Lab running down the highway. “What happened?”
“The driver let the dog onto the bus. The school called and Conway had to go into town and pick him up. After that incident, they had to chain Bandit to his doghouse during the day.” Mack took her hand and led her across the driveway. The boys and Bandit beat them to the porch.
When Mack opened the door, Beth asked, “Don’t they lock the house when they leave?”
“They usually do. Conway must have forgotten. I bet my brother was so nervous he made Isi drive them to the hospital.”
When they entered the kitchen the boys were already seated at the table, Bandit panting by their side. Mack rummaged through the shelves in the pantry. “What do you guys eat after school?” He tossed a package of cookies on the table, then a box of Cheerios and a plastic container of crackers.
The twins dove into the treats and before Beth realized she’d spoken, the words were out of her mouth. “Shouldn’t you wash your hands first?”
The boys stopped chewing, their cheeks puffed out like chipmunks. They looked at Mack.
“Beth’s right. Wash your hands.” He nodded to the doorway and the boys shoved their chairs back and left the room, Bandit by their sides. They didn’t go far. She saw them duck through a doorway in the hall and then heard running water.
“Can I get you anything?” Mack opened the fridge and peered inside.
“No, thanks. I’m fine.”
“I want milk.” Miguel marched into the kitchen. He looked at Beth. “Please.”
“Me, too, Uncle Mack.” Javier slid onto his chair. “Please.”
While Mack poured the milk, Beth spoke to the boys. “I can tell you’re both really smart.”
“How?” Miguel asked.
“Because smart people always use their manners.”
Javier reached for a cracker. “My mom makes me say please but my dad forgets.”
“She’s my mom, too,” Miguel said.
“And you both will have to share your mom with your sisters.” Mack ruffled the boys’ hair.
“Did Uncle Mack tell you our mom’s gonna have two babies?” Javier asked.
Beth took a seat at the table, finding herself drawn to Mack’s nephews, which was unusual because she had no practice conversing with kids. “Yes, he did. Do you think your sisters will look alike?”
Javier nodded and Miguel said, “No one’s gonna be able to tell them apart but us—” Mig pointed to himself and his brother “—’cause we’re twins.”
“I need to check the mail in the bunkhouse,” Mack said. “You guys behave for Beth.”
Before it registered that she’d been left alone with the twins, the boys shoved more cookies into their mouths and waited for her to make the next move.
“What did you learn in school today?” she asked.
Miguel gulped his milk, then mumbled, “Nothing.”
“I learned the three Rs,” Javier said.
“That sounds stupid.”
Javier glared at his brother.
“The three Rs.” Beth tapped her finger against her chin. “I don’t think I know what that means.”
Javier took the bait. “Reuse, recycle and reduce.”
Beth had expected Javier to say reading, writing and arithmetic.
“Mrs. Murphy said we have to take care of the earth and not litter and stuff.”
“I don’t get it,” Miguel said.
“Mrs. Murphy said we’re supposed to—”
The back door flew open. “Who wants to play catch?” Mack asked.
Bandit bolted outside and Miguel followed, leaving his half-empty glass of milk behind. Javier remained at the table and continued eating.
“What else did Mrs. Murphy suggest we reuse?” Beth asked.
“She said we could refill our water bottles from the sink.”
“That’s smart. If everyone did that, we’d use fewer plastic bottles.”
“And she said when we brush our teeth we should shut off the water until we’re done spitting.”
“Not wasting water is pretty important in the desert, isn’t it?”
Javier nodded. “How come you know so much about stuff?”
“Like you, I listened to my teachers in school.” When Javier remained silent, she asked, “Are you excited about your mom and dad bringing home your sisters?” The boy looked so forlorn that it was all Beth could do not to hug him.
“My dad says my mom’s gonna be busy with the babies and we’re not supposed to bother her.”
“Babies are a lot of work.”
“Do you have babies?”
Her breath caught in her throat. She’d been doing so well, answering Javier’s questions while ignoring the fact that she found his company charming.
“What’s the matter? You look sad.”
She wanted to cry. “I’m fine.” Her voice sounded rusty and she cleared her throat. “I don’t have any children.”
“Are you and Uncle Mack gonna have babies?”
The kitchen walls closed in on her and she struggled to draw air into her lungs. “Your uncle and I are just friends, Javier.”
“My dad and mom were friends and they got married.”
“And look what a nice family you have,” she said. “A mom, dad, brother and now two sisters.”
“My cousin Ryan got a girlfriend. He never wants to play with me now.”
“The whole boy-girl thing is complicated,” she said. “You don’t have to worry about girlfriends for a few years.”
“Do you wanna see my reading book?” Javier reached into his backpack on the floor by the chair. “It’s called—” he set the book on the table and pointed to each word on the cover “—Ben...and...Buster.” Javier opened the book and read the first page.
Beth listened as she took in the room. There were signs of children everywhere—colored magnetic alphabet letters holding up pieces of artwork on the refrigerator door. Batman drinking cups sitting on the counter. A white ceramic cookie jar with small blue handprints and the words Happy Mother’s Day painted on the side. Snack-size packages of treats filled a clear container on the counter and next to the back door sat two pairs of miniature cowboy boots.
“Let’s go outside.” Beth needed to get out of the house.
Javier glanced up, then quickly looked away but not before she saw his hurt expression. “I thought you could read on the swing,” she said.
The sparkle returned to his eyes.
When she walked onto the porch, she breathed a sigh of relief—the trees, barn and Mack’s truck didn’t remind her of children. Mack’s and Miguel’s laughter met her ears, but they were nowhere in sight. Maybe they’d ventured into the pecan groves on the other side of the barn.
Javier tugged on her pant leg. “C’mon, let’s sit down.”
“Sure.” When they sat on the swing, Javier pointed to her shoes.
“What?”
&
nbsp; “Your feet don’t touch.”
She leaned forward. “Neither do yours.”
Javier inched closer to Beth until his shoulder rubbed her arm. Would it really hurt to give the little guy a hug? She could do that without falling apart, couldn’t she? She snuggled Javier against her side. “Go on. I’m listening.”
Javier read, but Beth didn’t hear a word. Her attention focused on the pecan groves until the trees became a blur of green and brown. She retreated inside herself to a dark corner that shielded her from the cold, hard world. The gloom closed in on her in a protective way, blocking the pain and emotional devastation that came with knowing she’d never have what most women had—children of their own. Yes, she’d contemplated adoption and yes, her own mother had even told her to stop feeling sorry for herself and adopt if she really wanted to experience motherhood, but Beth’s fears had stopped her.
There were thousands of children waiting for a home...a couple to love them, but it wouldn’t be the same as having her own child and gazing into the eyes of a son or daughter and seeing herself reflected back. And she worried that if she did adopt, the child would see through her and know that he or she was a substitute for what Beth really wanted.
She wasn’t sure how long she and Javier had been sitting on the swing when Mack and Miguel entered the yard, Bandit trotting behind them. Miguel spoke and Mack’s head fell back, his chest shaking with laughter. Then the dog jumped on Mack, knocking him to the ground. Miguel dove on top of his uncle and the two wrestled while Bandit danced in circles.
“I wanna play!” Javier dropped his book in Beth’s lap and dashed off the porch. He raced across the lawn and joined in the fun.
Beth observed with a broken heart as the three rolled in the grassy dirt. A horn honked seconds before a pickup pulled up to the house and parked next to Mack’s truck. A young woman got out of the passenger side and the man reached into the back and removed a child from a car seat.
“I thought you were going to the hospital.” Mack walked over to the couple while the twins played with the dog.
“I hope you don’t mind, but Nate has a cold and I didn’t want to expose him to more germs at the hospital.”
The woman must be Mack’s sister. She pulled a tissue from her pocket and wiped the toddler’s runny nose. “Can you handle watching him and the twins?”
“Sure. I have help.” Mack waved Beth over.
If Beth had known a cattle-buying trip would evolve into running a daycare with Mack, she would have remained at the dude ranch.
“Beth, this is my sister, Dixie, and her husband, Gavin.” He pointed to the child. “And that little buckaroo is Nate.”
“Nice to meet you,” Beth said.
“We won’t stay at the hospital long.” Dixie thrust her son at Beth, taking her by surprise. “I’m glad you’re here. Mack’s great with kids but Nate’s a mama’s boy and he’ll want you.”
Instinctively, Beth settled Nate on her hip. The toddler looked at her, his expression serious. She smiled at the tyke and a warm, cozy feeling filled her when the boy laid his head against her.
Gavin handed a diaper bag to Mack. “There’s an extra set of clothes, his pajamas and food. Good luck.”
“You better let us know when Isi has the babies,” Mack said.
“We’ll call.” Dixie kissed Nate’s forehead. “Be good, honey.” Dixie looked at Beth. “Thank you for helping my brother with the kids.”
Mack stood next to Beth, watching the truck’s taillights disappear. If she allowed herself to, she could almost imagine she was holding her and Mack’s son and they were a family.
“Uncle Mack! Can Nate play with us?” Miguel shouted.
“Nate doesn’t feel good,” Mack said.
“What should I do with him?” She didn’t think it was a silly question but the grin on Mack’s face told her he thought it was.
“Why don’t you ask Nate what he wants to do?”
“Nate, how old are you?” she asked.
The boy held up three fingers. “What do you want to do?” He didn’t answer. “Would you like to sit on the swing and watch the boys play?”
“Good choice,” Mack said. “Nate likes the porch swing. He was a colicky baby and Gavin and Dix would sit outside and rock him for hours while he slept.”
“I like swings, too,” she said.
Mack jogged ahead of Beth and placed the diaper bag on the porch, then joined the soccer game in progress, leaving her alone with Nate.
Beth set him next to her on the swing, but he immediately crawled into her lap and rested his head against her chest. She ran her fingers through his fine, dark hair. Humming softly, she set the swing in motion. After a few minutes Nate fell asleep.
She wasn’t sure how long she’d been holding him when the trio of soccer players appeared on the porch, dirty and tuckered out. Mack checked his watch. “It’s six o’clock. Why don’t the twins and I run into town and grab supper.”
“What about Nate?” The child slept through their conversation.
Mack dug in the diaper bag and removed the plastic containers of food. “Dixie packed a bunch of healthy stuff for Nate. I’ll get him chicken fingers. He likes those.”
“That sounds good to me,” she said.
The trio hopped into Mack’s truck and drove off.
She continued to rock Nate, and her thoughts drifted back to adoption. Even though she’d been set against raising someone else’s child, she’d found the courage to bring up the subject with Brad after they’d married. To her relief he’d wanted to concentrate on his career. She’d never shared her fears about adoption with her mother or Brad. Silly as it seemed, she worried that she wouldn’t be able to form a bond with a child that wasn’t a part of her. She’d heard stories of couples who’d adopted and had devoted their lives to making the child happy, then years later the child blamed them for the poor decisions they’d made or the unfortunate circumstances they were in. Beth understood that the same thing could happen to parents with their biological children, but she believed the risks weren’t as high.
She snuggled Nate closer, the long day catching up with her. She closed her eyes, intending to rest for a few minutes. A horn blast startled her and her eyes popped open. She felt disoriented until she remembered she was at the farm helping Mack with his nephews. Nate slept through the noise of Mack’s truck pulling into the yard and the twins piling out, talking a mile a minute.
When they reached the porch, Mack handed the fast-food bags to Miguel. “Take this inside and both of you wash your hands.” He walked over to the swing. “Conway called and asked if I’d spend the night with the boys so he can stay at the hospital with Isi. After Dixie picks up Nate I can drive you out to the dude ranch.”
She didn’t want Mack to have to make the long drive that late at night with the twins. “I don’t mind staying. I can sleep on the couch.”
“Great.”
Nothing was going to happen between her and Mack with the twins around.
He nodded to Nate. “I’ll watch him. You go eat.”
“Are you sure?”
Mack lifted his nephew into his arms and took Beth’s seat when she vacated the swing. “I’m a pro at this.”
To Beth’s way of thinking, Mack was a pro at a lot of things.
Chapter Ten
“Uncle Mack, are you gonna marry Beth?” Javier asked after the boys climbed into the bathtub.
“Javi wants to know ’cause he’s gonna marry Stephanie,” Mig said.
“Am not.”
Amused by the red splotches spreading across Javi’s cheeks, Mack asked, “Who’s Stephanie?”
“His girlfriend.” Mig giggled. “They swing together at recess.”
“We do not.” Javi pretended interest in a mound of soap bubbles.
“Yeah,” Javi said. “She’s really smart. The teacher picks her first when she raises her hand.”
Mack wondered if Isi and Conway knew their shy son was sweet on a girl. He’d bet they didn’t.
“So are you gonna marry Beth, Uncle Mack?” Javier asked again.
Mack cupped his hands and sent a big splash at their heads. The boys ducked and the bath water hit the tiled wall. Miguel joined in the fun and slapped the surface of the water, soaking the front of Mack’s shirt.
“Uh-oh!” Javi pulled his brother to his side of the tub.
A water war ensued, all three becoming drenched. “Stop!” Mack held his hands up in surrender. “Your dad’s going to be mad if the water on the floor leaks into the kitchen.”
A snuffle sounded outside the door. “Let Bandit in,” Miguel said.
Mack glanced at the puddles on the floor. He supposed the four-legged mutt couldn’t make much more of a mess than the boys had. He opened the door and in less than a second Bandit assessed the situation then bounded past Mack and jumped into the water. Miguel grabbed the edge of the tub and spared himself a dunking, but the dog knocked Javi under the water. Mack pulled the kid up for air and he sputtered and coughed. “You okay, buddy?”
“Bad dog, Bandit.” Javi hugged the Lab’s neck.
“That scolding will teach him not to jump into the tub.” Mack handed Mig the bottle of dog shampoo from beneath the sink. “Might as well wash him while he’s in there.” The boys poured half the bottle on the Lab. Bandit flung his head back and forth, sending globs of lather flying across the room. It would take an hour to clean up after all three dried off.
“Did you wash your hair?” Mack asked Mig. The kid shook his head. “You do your own or does your mother help?”
“She helps ’cause we don’t scrub hard enough,” Javi said.
“Wash each other’s hair.” Mack leaned against the closed door and watched the boys squirt dog shampoo on their heads, then create Mohawk hairstyles. “That’s not scrubbing.”
The boys ignored him, so he got out his iPhone. “Look this way.” He snapped a photo of the trio then sent it to Conway. “Your dad will get a kick out of you three mutts.”
