The Cowboy's Twin Surprise

by Cathy McDavid

  She gave him a once-over but, unlike him, managed to refrain from blurting the first thing to pop into her head.

  “Come on in.”

  He stepped over the threshold and was instantly assaulted by a pair of friendly dogs, one a Lab mix and the other a yappy terrier. Both sniffed his pant legs and boots. Apparently, he passed inspection, for they quickly moved away, tails wagging and tongues lolling.

  “I see you’re still collecting strays.” Spence bent and gave each dog an ear scratching. “Where are the cats?”

  “Cat,” Frankie clarified. “And she’s around somewhere.”

  She had a tender heart and was always rescuing one needy animal or another. Also, apparently, long-lost half sisters.

  On quick inspection, he saw the living room was decorated with a few items he remembered from her dad’s house. The oil painting hanging over the couch. The pine side table her grandfather had made. A braided rug beneath the table. Various pictures of little girls hung in a pattern on the wall. She and her sisters as children, Spence guessed.

  “You have a nice place.”

  “We—I like it.”

  He followed her inside, quite enjoying the view. She paused and turned. He enjoyed this view even better.

  Capri pants emphasized her shapely calves. Bare feet exposed red toenails. A gold chain circled her slim neck, the engraved disk nestled in her generous cleavage. A second gold chain circled her right ankle. Tiny crinkles that appeared at the corners of her eyes when she smiled had him falling for her all over again.

  “Frankie.” Unable to help himself, he reached for her. “I’ve missed you.”

  “Spence—”

  He didn’t give her time to finish and pulled her against him, aligning the body parts that mattered the most. “I’ve been waiting for this since I saw you in that ugly uniform yesterday.” He dipped his head.

  “Ugly—?”

  He cut her off again, this time with a kiss. Her spine stiffened, and she resisted him. For a moment. And while not exactly surrendering, she did relax and let his mouth move over hers in a familiar pattern he’d dreamed about for four straight years.

  Fire instantly flared inside him, the one only she could ignite. His hold on her tightened as he wrapped an arm around her waist and increased the pressure of his mouth, urging her lips to part. When they did, and he tasted her, the fire raged until it nearly consumed him.

  The next instant, it died when she extracted herself from his embrace. “Not now,” she said in a low voice, and stepped away, establishing a safe distance between them.

  “All right.”

  Had he really just answered her with complete composure? She’d left him shaken, both because of the intensity of their kiss—incredibly potent even after all this time—and her unnerving calm. How could her world not be spinning? His was, wildly out of control.

  Then again, she’d said, “Not now.” She hadn’t said, “Not ever again.” Spence wasn’t one to split hairs, but in his mind, there was a big difference.

  “Have a seat.” She gestured toward the couch.

  “Thanks.” He thought he detected a slight shakiness in her raised arm. Maybe she wasn’t immune to him, after all.

  Removing his cowboy hat, he placed it on the coffee table next to a stack of colorful books. Dr. Seuss? Really? Must be more childhood mementoes. Taking a cue from the dogs, who’d already claimed nearby spots on the floor, he lowered himself onto the couch.

  Was that a noise he heard from down the hall? Had Frankie left a TV on in the bedroom? Perhaps her sister Sam was here and had been issued strict instructions to stay out of sight while Spence was visiting.

  “You’ve done well for yourself,” he said.

  “This is mostly Dad’s doing. He won the lottery last spring. Maybe you heard.”

  “Your sisters mentioned something. I remember him buying tickets every week.”

  “Same numbers for over thirty years.”

  She chose the chair next to the side table rather than the end of the couch near him. Drat. Foiled again.

  “It wasn’t a fortune,” she said. “But enough to make all our lives easier. Dad split the money four ways between himself, Mel, Ronnie and me. I used my share for a down payment on this house and some furnishings. He and Dolores were getting married, and I didn’t want to be living with them.”

  “That was generous of him.”

  “It was. Ronnie started her barrel racing school with her share and Mel bought her vet practice. Dad paid for his wedding to Dolores and their honeymoon in Hawaii.”

  “You like her? Your stepmom?” Spence remembered the Frankie from high school who desperately missed her late mother and believed it was her job to help raise her younger sisters.

  “She’s wonderful. We love her to pieces.”

  “I’m surprised you didn’t use your share to start your catering business.”

  “I thought about it. But getting my own place was more important. We were living wi—” She stopped herself, not for the first time tonight. “No new bride needs a third wheel.”

  “I suppose not.”

  A lull fell, one that Spence felt acutely. This wasn’t typical. For them, conversation had always flowed easily.

  “It’s a good-sized house,” he said. “Lots of room for you and Sam. She lives with you, right?”

  “She does, though she’s with friends tonight.” Frankie shifted uncomfortably. “Look, Spence. There’s a reason I asked you over tonight and it has nothing to do with my catering business or us.”

  “Okay.” His insides clenched, responding to the somber tone in her voice and worried expression on her face.

  “Wait here.” She rose. “Don’t move. Promise me. I have two very special people I’d like you to meet.”

  She disappeared from the room and padded down the hall. Spence strained his ears, hearing voices. So he hadn’t been wrong about someone else in the house. But who? Not a guy; she wasn’t dating, and not Sam. Her stepmom maybe?

  Finally, after what felt like an agonizing amount of time, Frankie reappeared, trailed by two little girls. What the heck...?

  Stopping in the middle of the room, she gathered the girls to her sides. They were a study in contrast: one short and blonde, the other taller and with dark hair. Nonetheless, something made Spence think they were sisters.

  “This is Paige—” Frankie lifted the shorter one’s hand, clasped firmly in hers “—and this is Sienna.” She patted the top of the taller one’s head with her other hand. “My daughters.”

  Spence was never at a loss for what to say. Until now. He stared at Frankie and the girls, a malfunction occurring in the area of his brain responsible for speech.

  Daughters? Impossible!

  Well, apparently not, for there they stood, wearing matching pajamas and staring at him with a mixture of shyness and curiosity.

  “Um...uh, hello,” he managed to choke out.

  “I thought you three should meet. Girls, say hi.”

  “Hi,” they both said simultaneously and softly, clinging to their mother.

  Their mother! Frankie had children. Two of them! This explained the pictures on the wall and the Dr. Seuss books.

  When had it happened? Well, obviously during the last four years. How old were they? Spence wasn’t good at these things, having no experience. He was the youngest of three siblings and not a father himself. His oldest brother had children, but he and his wife lived in Marana. Spence visited them only once or twice a year.

  “We’re twins,” the shorter one said, as if she made that announcement regularly.

  “Really? You don’t look alike.”

  “They’re fraternal twins,” Frankie explained.

  Whatever that meant. Not wishing to appear stupid, Spence said nothin
g.

  “I’m older.” Again, the smaller one spoke. “Six minutes.”

  “Then how come you’re smaller?”

  “Grandpa says I’m still growing.”

  Did the taller one talk at all? Spence looked at her closely. Large, expressive eyes. Brown hair straight and thick as a horse’s tail. She reminded him of someone, though he couldn’t put his finger on who. The shorter one was the spitting image of Frankie. A Hartman through and through.

  “Well,” she started, “I just wanted to introduce you before I put them to bed. Say good-night, girls.”

  They did, and Frankie escorted them back to their bedroom.

  Unable to just sit there after they left, Spence sprang up from the couch and crept along the entryway leading down the hall. There, he waited and listened to Frankie conversing with her daughters as she tucked them in bed.

  She was sweet with them, making promises for the next day, reciting a good-night prayer and telling them to “Sleep tight.” He was admittedly touched.

  Before she turned off the light, Spence crept away and resumed his seat on the living room couch. His entire body shook, the result of shock and wonder and surprise. He’d returned to Mustang Valley thinking, hoping, possibly to win Frankie back.

  Her having daughters changed that. Spence wasn’t sure he was ready to step into the role of parent, even a stepparent.

  His first instinct was to leave town. But then, wasn’t that always his first plan of action? And probably what Frankie expected of him. She could be testing him again, like she had this morning about being on time. He’d bragged to her he was a changed man. Leaving town would show he’d lied.

  But daughters. Two of them. He was entitled to be taken aback. And reevaluating his return to Mustang Valley in order to woo Frankie was completely understandable.

  Hearing her sigh, he glanced up.

  She smiled weakly. “That took longer than I thought. Didn’t mean to keep you waiting.”

  “No worries.” He stood and reached for his cowboy hat. The idea of stealing a good-night kiss had also vanished. “It’s getting late. And you’re busy. I should probably go.”

  He saw the look in her eyes, silently accusing him of running. Damn. He just couldn’t stop himself and turned toward the door.

  “Wait, Spence.” She hadn’t moved. “There’s something else I need to tell you.”

  There was more? He tried to grin, certain it fell flat. “Sure. What?”

  “Paige and Sienna. Aren’t you the least bit curious about their father?”

  “I figured you’d tell me if you wanted me to know.”

  She gazed directly at him, and her stare was so powerful and unwavering, Spence tensed. His gut screamed she was about to deliver life-altering news.

  “I should have told you sooner.” She inhaled, then blew out slowly. “And I certainly understand if you’re angry at me.”

  “Why would I be angry?”

  Suddenly, everything clicked into place, and he knew her answer before she spoke.

  “You’re their father, Spence. Paige and Sienna are your daughters.”

  Chapter Four

  Spence’s vision dimmed to a hazy gray. He was aware of his surroundings and the words Frankie had spoken—Paige and Sienna are your daughters—but nothing made sense.

  Sweat broke out on his forehead. He swore he could feel each and every bead forming. Hearing a muffled thump, he looked down at his cowboy hat on the floor. Glaring at his hands as if they were at fault, he bent and retrieved the hat. The motion caused a dizzying sensation, as if he were on an elevator that had stopped too fast.

  He was a father? Impossible! Frankie would have told him. If not her, someone else. He’d been back in Mustang Valley for two days. Passed through last month. Surely a “Visiting your daughters?” or “Wondered when you were going to do right by those youngsters,” would have slipped out.

  Unless someone had said something. There was that remark the ranch hand at Powell Ranch made about seeing his girls. Spence had assumed he misunderstood and the guy said girl singular, meaning Frankie. He’d responded with a grin and “Heading to the café shortly.” Then there was the woman behind the counter at the market. She’d said, “Guess Frankie finally convinced you to come back,” with a knowing grin. Now, Spence understood what had been behind that grin.

  He whirled on Frankie, his anger erupting. “You lied to me.”

  “Yes.” She didn’t have the decency to look him in the face.

  “For years. I had a right to know.”

  “I’m sorry, Spence.” Finally, she raised her gaze to his. Tears filled her eyes.

  “That’s all you have to say? I’m sorry?”

  Her glance cut to the hallway. “Please. Not so loud.”

  “They don’t know I’m their father?”

  She shook her head.

  “What did you tell them? Have they even asked about me?”

  “Of course they’ve asked.” She swallowed. “I said he was a man I’d been in love with since I was fifteen. But that he had to leave before they were born because he has a job in California.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Well, a little more,” she admitted. “But I keep my explanations simple. Only answer the questions they ask. I did say you were coming back one day.”

  “Great. Now they think I abandoned them. I never took you for being cruel, Frankie.”

  His remark obviously cut deep, for more tears filled her eyes. But she had been cruel, by not telling him he was a father and then lying to the girls about why he wasn’t a part of their lives.

  “They’re three, Spence. I’m not sure they’re mature enough to think you abandoned them.”

  “You made me out to be the bad guy when you’re the one who lied. To me and to them. But, hey, they’re probably not mature enough to realize that.”

  She straightened her spine. “I did what I thought was best at the time.”

  “For who? You?”

  She and Spence stood in the middle of the living room, facing each other, when he wasn’t turning and pacing in frustration.

  “Yes, for me,” she admitted softly.

  “How? Why was it best for you?”

  “Lots of reasons. You were unreliable. Gone for months at a time, jumping from job to job. You didn’t want kids. You said so yourself, more than once. You weren’t ready to settle down. What was I supposed to do? Say, ‘Surprise, you’re a dad’?”

  “Those are just excuses to justify your actions.”

  She sniffed, visibly composing herself. “Well, we can’t change what happened. We can only move forward.”

  “You were on birth control. We were careful.”

  “It failed.”

  A memory suddenly resurfaced. “Is that why you insisted I never come back that last time? Because you were pregnant?”

  “No. I swear I didn’t discover I was pregnant until three weeks after you left. I insisted you never come back because I was mad at you and hurt.”

  “And still mad when the doctor gave you the test results?”

  “I was confused.”

  Spence groaned and shoved his fingers through his hair, feeling the damp strands against his skin. “And when exactly did you become unconfused? Oh, wait. You haven’t. Because we both know if not for me showing up yesterday, you and I wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

  Her answer was to blush a vivid pink. Or was that an angry pink? “You have to admit you weren’t ready to embrace fatherhood.”

  His anger reached a whole new level. “Me not being ready to embrace fatherhood isn’t the problem here. It’s you and the giant lies you’ve told.”

  “I had a high-risk pregnancy. Comes with having twins.” Her chin trembled slightl
y. “The doctor insisted I avoid as much stress as possible. Every time I thought of telling you, I’d panic.”

  “Wow.” Spence chuckled drily. “Now you’re blaming the pregnancy.”

  “It’s true. I did have a difficult time.”

  “Did it ever occur to you I might have made that time easier for you, not harder?”

  She breathed deeply. “Mostly, I was scared.”

  At last! They were getting closer to the truth. “Did you think I wouldn’t step up?”

  “No. I was sure you would.”

  “Then why?” Spence moved closer, wanting, needing to know the answer.

  “I was afraid you’d insist we get married.” Her voice grew small. “And that I’d say yes. We’d have both wound up miserable. You, because you were forced into a life you didn’t want. Me, because I was the one responsible for forcing you. Mostly, I was afraid you’d grow to hate me.”

  Spence considered what she’d said, and his anger slowly abated. He would have asked her to marry him. And, in those days, he might have grown to resent her for tying him down with a wife and children.

  Then. Now, he was a different person. And though having children wasn’t in his immediate plans, he had begun to see them as a possibility a few years down the road. Once his horse farm was more established. Spence did have his priorities and was determined to spend his money wisely.

  Wait a minute...

  “Is that why you told me now? Because I have money when I didn’t before?”

  Frankie recoiled in shock. “Absolutely not!”

  “You could sue me for back child support.” Could she? He’d better find out.

  “I doubt it, since I didn’t tell you about the girls.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  She paused. “I don’t know. I won’t sue, however.”

  “Come on, Frankie. What other reason was there for telling me?”

  She crossed her arms defiantly. “If I was after your money, you’d have heard from my attorney by now.”

  “Maybe you’ll hear from mine.”

  “You do what you need to, Spence.”