The Soldier's Twin Surprise

Home > Romance > The Soldier's Twin Surprise > Page 12
The Soldier's Twin Surprise Page 12

by Judy Duarte


  But Rickie didn’t want to hang out at the house alone. And she actually liked the Clay she’d begun to know. Besides, didn’t her babies deserve to have a daddy in their lives?

  “All right,” she said. “Give me a minute to splash some water on my face and to change clothes.”

  “Take all the time you need.”

  She wouldn’t take long. Spending the afternoon with the gorgeous father of her twins was beginning to sound like a good idea. It might be too much to hope for, especially when the future never turned out the way she hoped it would, but maybe...if things continued to develop between her and Clay, she’d be able to provide her kids with a loving home, complete with a mommy and a daddy.

  Chapter Nine

  Clay had expected the experience of shopping for baby things to be a real pain in his backside, but so far it hadn’t been too bad. He just hoped that when the day was over, and all was said and done, the charges on his credit card were the only costs he’d face.

  They first stopped at the hardware store to pick up the paint supplies for the nursery. The last time they’d been there, Rickie had studied the colors carefully, but today she didn’t dawdle. She immediately reached for a green swatch and pointed to the lighter shade on the bottom. “This will work perfectly with the comforter set I plan to buy.”

  He was glad she’d finally chosen the paint for the nursery walls—and relieved that she’d stopped crying. He didn’t like seeing her so upset.

  After paying for their purchases, Rickie walked beside Clay as he pushed the shopping cart that carried the paint, brushes and other supplies out to his Dodge Ram. Once he unlocked the truck, he placed them in the back seat of the extended cab. Then he drove to a specialty store that sold baby clothes, toys and furniture.

  As he followed Rickie up and down the aisles, he couldn’t help wondering how much of this stuff the babies really needed. He had a feeling that a lot of the displays were just to tempt new parents into spending more money than they’d budgeted. But what did he really know?

  As he’d expected, since it had taken days to choose the paint, Rickie studied the various bedding sets way longer than he thought necessary. After narrowing down the options, she turned to him and asked, “What do you think? If you were a baby, would you rather have your room decorated with jungle animals or cowboys?”

  Normally, he’d be inclined to hold back his opinion and let her make the ultimate decision. But in this case, he actually had a preference. It was bad enough that he’d been forced to live a rancher’s life. He wasn’t about to point his kids in that same direction from the day they were born. So he said, “I like the monkeys.”

  “Me, too. I was afraid we might have to return the green paint for beige if you preferred the cowboy print.”

  He didn’t mind cowboys. Or ranching, for that matter. It’s just that he didn’t like being tied to the land, unable to travel to exciting places or pursue his own interests. Of course, now that he was no longer in the Army or able to fly, not much interested him these days.

  Rickie put the two comforter sets into the cart, and then she led him to the furniture section to pick out a chest of drawers, two cribs and mattresses.

  “It’s a good thing I have a truck,” he said.

  “Actually, I think we need to order the big items and set up a delivery date.” She pointed to a couple of crib styles she liked, then looked up at him. “What do you think?”

  His only thought was that her soulful brown eyes had a way of looking into the heart of a man. And Clay didn’t like the idea of anyone digging that deep, but she’d asked for his opinion again.

  “You choose,” he said.

  She bit down on her bottom lip, then blew out a soft sigh. “All right, then.” She placed her hand on a white, four-in-one convertible model with an arched headboard. “I like this one, but since it’s more expensive, I probably ought to go with a simpler style.”

  He’d brought her shopping to see her happy, so why would he encourage her to get something other than her first choice?

  “I prefer that white one, too,” he said. “Let’s order two of them and get the matching dresser.”

  Her smile deepened, putting the glimmer back into her eyes, and he looked away, trying to shake the effect her happiness had on him.

  “What else do you want to look at?” he asked.

  “This will do for now. Once we paint and move in the furniture, that old office will look like a real nursery. Then, on the weekends, I can add other things bit by bit.”

  “What other things?”

  “I’ll eventually need a lamp, wall hangings and stuff like that.”

  The nursery was going to end up costing a boatload of money, and that was before Clay counted baby clothes, diapers, bottles and who knew what else. But he wouldn’t complain. He’d expected to take on his share of the financial burden—if not more.

  That was about it, though. When it came to babysitting or burping or changing diapers, Rickie would have to look for someone else to step up, because he didn’t know squat about babies.

  When the kids got old enough, he’d feel more comfortable being around them and doing things with them. He’d teach them to ride a horse, as well as a bike. And he’d take them camping and fishing. But for the first few years, he’d have to leave the entertaining and the day-to-day stuff up to Rickie.

  By the time they’d ordered the furniture and set up a delivery date, then packed the comforters in the back seat, on top of the paint supplies, Clay asked Rickie if she was hungry. “If you want, we can stop someplace and get a bite to eat.”

  “Let’s just go home. I’ll whip up something for us to eat there.”

  The day had turned out to be a lot better and more productive than Clay had expected it to. And for some odd reason, going “home” for dinner with Rickie sounded like a nice way to end it.

  * * *

  While Clay prepared the nursery walls for the painting he planned to do another day, Rickie cooked ground turkey then added a jar of marinara to make spaghetti sauce. She also made a green salad. It was an easy and casual meal, but after all Clay had done for her today, she wanted to make it special. So she set the dining room table, using her mother’s good china. While tempted, she decided not to light candles, which would provide a romantic vibe. She could hardly look at the hunky rancher without triggering flashbacks of the night they made love, and her memories didn’t need any prompts.

  While the pasta boiled, she went to the nursery to check on Clay’s progress. He’d already washed down the walls and now stood at the window, putting up blue masking tape to protect the glass. He hadn’t heard her approach, so she took a moment to admire his work ethic, not to mention his broad shoulders and the way his jeans fit his perfect backside.

  As if sensing her presence, he turned to the door and smiled. “Something sure smells good. I’m nearly finished in here for today. I promised my granddad to go with him to purchase a couple more cutting horses tomorrow, so I’ll have to come back to finish next Saturday.”

  “That’s not a problem. I’d do it myself, but the fumes aren’t good for the twins. I’m just happy to know it’ll be done soon.”

  He placed the roll of tape on the windowsill, crossed his arms and shifted his weight to one hip. “Maybe it would be better if I came back during the week, while you’re at work and staying at the ranch. That way, the room can air out and you won’t have to deal with the smell.”

  “That would be great, but...” She couldn’t expect him to do that. “It’s a long drive.”

  “I’d have to make the trip no matter which day I paint.”

  True, but she liked the idea of being home when he came. Besides, once the nursery was painted, he wouldn’t have too many reasons to return.

  Their gazes locked for a couple of beats, and her heart fluttered the way it had the first time she’d laid eyes on him. It had only been physical attraction then, but he’d been so helpful and supportive today, not to mention incre
dibly generous, that... Well, she couldn’t help thinking that a guy like him would make an awesome father and husband.

  Whoa, girl. You’re letting those pregnancy hormones run away with you.

  Nesting and creating a nursery for the babies was one thing, but imagining Clay in a family scenario was another. She’d better reel in those whacky thoughts before she set herself up for a major disappointment, not to mention heartbreak. She’d already had enough of those to last a lifetime.

  She tore her gaze away and nodded toward the door that opened to the hall. “Dinner is just about ready, so you might want to wash up and meet me in the dining room.”

  “Sounds good.”

  Ten minutes later, they sat across from each other at the linen-draped table.

  “This spaghetti is really good,” he said. “But I didn’t expect you to work so hard.”

  “Thank you, but I didn’t go to much effort. As far as meals go, this was pretty simple to make.”

  “Either way, I appreciate it.”

  She swirled the long pasta strands on her fork only to have them unwind and slide back onto her plate. Too bad she hadn’t fixed something that was easier to eat. Next time she’d have to make tacos. That was, if there was a next time.

  At least he’d come today. He’d also gone above and beyond, especially when he’d held her in his arms while she’d cried. How many men were that sensitive, that supportive?

  Maybe she’d better let him know that she appreciated it. So she said, “I’m sorry for falling apart on you earlier today.”

  He stopped twirling his fork and looked up. “Don’t worry about that. You were hit with both good and bad news at the same time. That’s enough to make anyone cry.”

  Did he ever cry? Somehow she doubted it.

  “Are you going to look for your sister?” he asked.

  “Yes, but I really don’t know where to start.”

  “You could hire a private investigator.”

  She set her fork aside and leaned back in her seat. “I think that’s what my sister did. Mama Kate said in her letter that a private investigator had contacted her. So my sister might be looking for me.”

  “Hopefully she’ll find you first. But in the meantime, I’ll talk to my friend Poncho. He’s a cop with the Wexler Police Department, so I’m sure he can recommend a good PI who’s local. He also might have some other ideas and suggestions.”

  “That would be awesome. I’d give anything to see Lainie again.”

  “You could also try one of those home DNA kits you get online,” Clay said. “People use them to learn about their ancestry, but a lot of them have found lost relatives that way.”

  “Good idea.”

  They continued to eat in silence. When they finished, Clay began to clear the table.

  Rickie reached for his wrist to stop him. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m going to help you clean up.”

  “Don’t be silly. You have a long drive in front of you. Besides, I’ll have the dishes washed before you leave city limits.”

  He offered her a warm, appreciative smile. “Thanks for your concern, but I insist. I’m not going to eat and run.”

  Since she’d tidied up as she prepared the meal, it didn’t take long for them to load the dishwasher.

  “See?” he said. “That didn’t delay my drive home.”

  As he headed to the front door, she followed, wondering if he would kiss her good-night. She hoped so, but he’d have to make the first move.

  He paused on the stoop and brushed his lips across her forehead, the warmth of his breath lingering on her skin.

  “Thanks again for dinner. I’ll see you back at the ranch on Monday evening.” Then he turned and strode toward his truck, leaving her on the porch with a tingly brow.

  She appreciated the friendly gesture, but it was hardly the kind of kiss she’d hoped for. And as he drove away, disappointment settled over her.

  What was wrong with her? Clay had been amazing today. He’d shown her a sweet and kind side, and he’d been more than generous. Instead of yearning for more, she ought to be grateful for his support and friendship. Entertaining any thoughts of romance was crazy and would only lead to further disappointment.

  Hadn’t his mother told her that he hadn’t planned to have kids? He probably wasn’t marriage minded, either.

  Clay might have a playful grin and a soft southern drawl she found mesmerizing, but he’d undoubtedly used it on other women before. He’d certainly charmed her that day on Hawaii’s North Shore.

  Only trouble was, that same charm had cropped up again today, promising to lure her in once more. And she’d have to be on guard. She couldn’t risk another broken heart.

  * * *

  On Monday morning, Rickie packed her things for a four-night stay at the Bar M, then drove to Brighton Valley to start her second workweek. It was business as usual at the family clinic, and before she knew it, five o’clock rolled around.

  After the last patient left and Glory locked up, Rickie went out to her car. But instead of driving straight to the ranch, she stopped by a fast food restaurant and picked up something to eat.

  She figured Clay’s mother would offer to feed her, but she didn’t want to make any assumptions or to be any more trouble than necessary. So she headed back onto the highway and munched on a grilled chicken sandwich while she drove.

  She’d no more than parked her car by the barn when Sandra stepped out onto the porch and waved in welcome. “Can I help you bring anything into the house?”

  “Thanks for the offer, but I’ve got it.” Rickie reached into the back seat and removed her suitcase. Then she crossed the yard and met Sandra on the porch.

  “I’m glad you’re here. Dinner’s almost ready.” Sandra opened the door for her and followed her into the house. “We normally eat around five thirty, but Clay and his grandfather went into town for supplies and haven’t returned yet. You’re probably hungry, so I can get you a snack or appetizer to tide you over.”

  “Actually, I already had dinner.”

  “That’s too bad. From now on, I hope you’ll eat with us on the nights you stay here. It’ll be nice to have another woman to talk to. I’m usually stuck with a couple of men who’d rather wolf down their meals than waste their time on conversation.”

  Rickie laughed. “I was in the Army, remember? I’ve had plenty of experience with men.” She paused as her words sank in. “Oops. That came out wrong. I meant I know all about male habits and mannerisms.”

  “I knew exactly what you meant.” Sandra laughed. “Come on, I’ll show you around. Then I’ll take you to the guest room so you can get settled.”

  After a brief tour of the house, Sandra ushered Rickie into a large, tidy bedroom with a lemony scent. A floral comforter covered a queen-size bed and a green throw rug adorned the hardwood floor.

  “You’ll have your own bathroom,” Sandra said, pointing to an open interior door. “You’ll find clean linens on the cupboard. Please make yourself at home. And if there’s anything you need, let me know.”

  “I’ll be fine. Thank you.”

  “Once you unpack,” Sandra said, “come to the table. You can have dessert with us. I made a blueberry cheesecake.”

  Rickie offered her a warm, appreciative smile. “I’ll certainly make room for that.”

  When an engine sounded outside, Sandra brightened. “Clay and Roger, his grandfather, just got home.”

  Rickie momentarily brightened, too. And her heart skipped a couple beats. But she did her best to quell her excitement and tamp down any romantic thoughts.

  “I’d better get dinner on the table,” Sandra said. “I hope you’ll come and sit with us, even if you’re not hungry.”

  Rickie thanked her but remained in the bedroom even after she unpacked, trying to play it cool. About twenty minutes later, she made her way to the kitchen table, where the small family of three had just finished a meal of meat loaf, baked potatoes and green beans.
r />   Both men stood when she entered. Clay’s grandfather, a tall, gray-haired man in his seventies, reached out a big, work-roughened hand in greeting. “I’m Roger Masters. You must be Rickie.”

  “Yes, sir. It’s nice to meet you. Thanks for allowing me to stay with you on weekday evenings. I’ll try not to disrupt your routines or to be a bother.”

  “Nonsense,” Sandra said. “We’re happy to have you. And our usual routines could use a little shaking up.”

  Clay pulled out the chair next to his, and Rickie took a seat. While Sandra cleared the table, the men lapsed into a talk about the new horses they’d just purchased and the ranch foreman’s search for another hand.

  When Sandra passed out slices of cheesecake, the men quickly dug in, and their conversation stalled.

  “Rickie,” Sandra said, “how was your day?”

  “It was good. I really enjoy working with Dr. Davidson.”

  “Any exciting moments?”

  “Actually, two. A woman came in for a checkup, and while she was sitting on the exam table, she mentioned having an upset stomach and an ache in her jaw. It turned out that she was having a heart attack. We’d no more than sent her off in an ambulance to the hospital when a mother brought in a kid who’d sliced a deep cut in his knee while trying to saw into a watermelon with a bread knife.”

  “How in the hell did he do that?” Roger asked.

  Rickie’d wondered the same thing when she’d first talked with him and his mom. “Apparently, he was sitting on the floor and holding the melon in his lap.”

  The elderly rancher chuckled and shook his gray head. “That boy’s lucky he only sliced into his knee.”

  At that, Rickie laughed.

  “When is your next doctor’s appointment?” Sandra asked.

  “It’s on Friday afternoon.” Rickie glanced at Clay. “A lot of fathers go to those appointments. Let me know if that’s ever something you might like to do. You’d be able to see the babies on the ultrasound.”

 

‹ Prev