The Soldier's Twin Surprise

by Judy Duarte

  She seemed to ponder that for the longest time, and when he feared she might blow him off, she smiled and said, “Yes, I’ll marry you. I love you, too. But I think we’d both be better off if we took our relationship one day at a time.”

  That’s all he’d hoped for, all he’d wanted to hear. He bent over her bed and gave her a kiss. It might’ve been gentle and a bit hesitant, but it was filled with promise—and commitment.

  When he straightened, she said, “So tell me. When are you going to have your vision checked again?”

  He hadn’t planned on doing that, but with Rickie suggesting it, he figured he ought to face his limitations, too. “I guess that depends on when Dr. Davidson will refer me to an ophthalmologist or neurologist.”

  Rickie laughed. “The receptionist has quite a bit of pull, so I’m sure she’ll have a name and phone number for you first thing tomorrow morning.”

  Clay kissed this amazing woman again. How had he ever gotten by without her in his life, his arms or his bed?

  “I have a question,” she said. “I know it was my idea, but maybe we shouldn’t take things too slowly. It might be a good idea to get married before the babies come.”

  “I was hoping you’d come to feel that way, too. I’d marry you tomorrow, but we’ll probably need a license.”

  She laughed once more, then reached for him, drawing his lips to hers. He kissed her again, and his heart as well as his dreams took flight.

  For the first time since his accident, he looked forward to the future, one that promised to be happy and bright.

  Epilogue

  A week after Rickie came home from the hospital, Lainie and her husband, rodeo promoter Drew Madison, and their children arrived home after their Disney cruise. When Lainie heard that her lost twin was looking for her and had left her phone number, she immediately placed the call.

  Lainie shrieked with joy and excitement. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.”

  “Oh, yes I do!” Rickie’s voice held the same thrill. “I was told that you died during your surgery. I was devastated to hear that, and I’ve been grieving for years. Imagine my surprise when I learned you were alive.”

  There were happy tears shed, and some sad ones, as they tried to play catch up after so many years apart.

  Sandra, who’d been standing nearby when the heartwarming phone call took place, listened with a smile and glistening eyes. When she heard the sisters’ planning to meet the next day and introduce their new families, she suggested they have a picnic.

  “That way,” Sandra had said, “we can have a meet and greet during your reunion.”

  Both sisters liked the idea, especially since the new Brighton Valley Park had an amazing playground the children would enjoy.

  And now here they were. Rickie brought her new family, which included Clay, his mother and grandfather. Soon Lainie, Drew and their three sons would be drawn into the fold.

  Clay, who’d been helping his mother carry the food and picnic supplies from the car, joined Rickie where she stood in the shade of a magnolia tree, watching the street and waiting for her sister to arrive. He slipped an arm around her waist and gave her an affectionate squeeze. “How are you doing? It’s a little chilly. Do you want me to get your sweater?”

  “No, I’m fine. In fact, I’ve never been better.” She leaned into him, placed her head against his shoulder and relished his familiar scent.

  “My mom is putting out a big spread,” he said.

  “I know.” Rickie couldn’t believe the woman’s energy. Early this morning, she’d made potato salad, baked beans and a huge fruit bowl, insisting she didn’t want help. At least she’d let Rickie bring dessert—cupcakes she and Clay purchased at a local bakery.

  Even Roger, who’d asked Rickie to call him Granddad from now on, would be doing his part, cooking hamburgers and hot dogs on a small stationary grill.

  “I’d better see if my grandfather needs help,” Clay said.

  “Have you talked to him yet?” Rickie asked.

  “Yes, I did. Right before we left the ranch.” Clay had passed the eye exam, although just barely. And he’d accepted the job as a Life Flight pilot.

  “How’d he take it?”

  “A lot better than I thought he would. He told me that he really hadn’t wanted to retire in the first place, but my mom had encouraged it. ‘You know how she is,’ he said. I would have agreed and rolled my eyes, but for the first time, I found myself saying, ‘She means well.’”

  “Maybe, on your days off, you can help out on the ranch.”

  “Yes, I plan to. That is, unless I’m busy being a father.” Clay placed his hand on her baby bump. “How are the kids doing?”

  “They’re a little restless today,” she said. “I think they’re eager to get out and meet their new cousins.”

  “Speaking of introductions, have we decided on their names for sure? Are we going to stick with Jonathon and Katherine?”

  “Yes, but those are pretty long names for tiny babies. What if we call them John and Katie?”

  “That works for me.” Clay nodded toward Granddad. “I’d better see if he needs help setting up that grill.” Then he brushed a kiss on her brow before walking away.

  At the sound of an approaching vehicle, Rickie turned and spotted an SUV entering the parking lot. It looked like a dad, mom and three little boys. That must be Lainie, she thought.

  When a brunette climbed out of the front passenger seat, she noted the resemblance and realized she was right.

  As Lainie crossed the grass, leaving her husband to help the younger boys get out of their car seats, Rickie hurried to meet her.

  “Can you believe it?” Lainie said, her smile beaming. “I never thought this day would come.”

  Rickie laughed. “Neither did I. You have no idea how much I’ve missed you. How many times I’ve thought about you over the years. I’m so glad we finally found each other.”

  Lainie slipped her arms around Rickie and gave her a hug, one they both were reluctant to end. So they continued to hold each other, their heads touching, their hair the same shade, the length similar. They’d always looked alike, but when Rickie had been the healthier twin, people didn’t have any trouble telling them apart. However, that wasn’t the case any longer. That is, unless someone looked at their stomachs.

  Everyone seemed to be giving them space and time to reunite, but before long, three adorable, dark-haired boys joined them.

  “Hey, Mama!” the oldest one said. “There’s two of you!”

  “You’re right,” Lainie told her son. “This is my sister—and your aunt.”

  “I’m so happy to meet you guys,” Rickie said, as she stooped to shake each small hand. There’d be plenty of time for hugs and kisses—once they got to know her better. And that wouldn’t take long. She planned to be the best aunt ever.

  Andre, the oldest had a walking cast on his leg, thanks to a recent orthopedic surgery to correct a bone that hadn’t healed properly. But that didn’t seem to keep the eight-year-old sidelined.

  From what Lainie had said last night, their early years had been rough, but they had a new home and loving parents now. Andre and his younger brothers, Mario and Abel, were as cute as they could be. And they were clearly happy and thriving.

  “Can we go play now?” Mario asked.

  Lainie caressed her son’s head. “Yes, of course.”

  As the boys dashed off, Rickie glanced across the grass and watched Sandra cover a table with a red-checkered cloth. “You know, I’d better insist upon helping my future mother-in-law.”

  “And I’d better get the kids’ jackets. I don’t want them to catch cold. When one gets the sniffles, they all do.”

  As Lainie strode toward the car, Rickie approached the woman who claimed she was the daughter she’d always wanted. “You’re spoiling me, Sandra. Please let me do something to help.”

  Sandra brightened. “It’s nearly done. I love cooking for my family, but I’m really g
oing to enjoy it now that our family has grown. I can’t wait for Thanksgiving and Christmas. They’re going to be extra-special days from now on.”

  Rickie agreed. The upcoming holidays promised to be big, happy affairs. She stole a glance at Clay, who’d wandered over to the playground and was pushing little Mario in the swing. Not only was that gorgeous man an amazing lover, but he promised to be a wonderful husband, father and uncle.

  She placed her hand on her growing womb and smiled. For the very first time, she could imagine living happily ever after.

  * * * * *

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  The Cottages on Silver Beach

  by RaeAnne Thayne

  CHAPTER ONE

  SOMEONE WAS TRYING to bust into the cottage next door.

  Only minutes earlier, Megan Hamilton had been minding her own business, sitting on her front porch, gazing out at the stars and enjoying the peculiar quiet sweetness of a late-May evening on Lake Haven. She had earned this moment of peace after working all day at the inn’s front desk then spending the last four hours at her computer, editing photographs from Joe and Lucy White’s fiftieth anniversary party the weekend before.

  Her neck was sore, her shoulders tight, and she simply wanted to savor the purity of the evening with her dog at her feet.

  Unfortunately, her moment of Zen had lasted only sixty seconds before her little ancient pug, Cyrus, sat up, gazed out into the darkness and gave one small harrumphing noise before settling back down again to watch as a vehicle pulled up to the cottage next door.

  Cyrus had become used to the comings and goings of their guests in the two years since he and Megan moved into the cottage after the inn’s renovations were finished. She would venture to say her pudgy little dog seemed to actually enjoy the parade of strangers who invariably stopped to greet him.

  The man next door wasn’t aware of her presence, though, or that of her little pug. He was too busy trying to work the finicky lock—not an easy feat as the task typically took two hands and one of his appeared to be attached to an arm tucked into a sling.

  She should probably go help him. He was obviously struggling one-handed, unable to turn the key and twist the knob at the same time.

  Beyond common courtesy, there was another compelling reason she should probably get off her porch swing and assist him. He was a guest of the inn, which meant he was yet one more responsibility on her shoulders. She knew the foibles of that door handle well, since she owned the door, the porch, the house and the land that it sat on, here at Silver Beach on Lake Haven, part of the extensive grounds of the Inn at Haven Point.

  She didn’t want to help him. She wanted to stay right here hidden in shadows, trying to pretend he wasn’t there. Maybe this was all a bad dream and she wouldn’t be stuck with him for the next three weeks.

  Megan closed her eyes, wishing she could open them again and find the whole thing was a figment of her imagination.

  Unfortunately, it was all entirely too real. Elliot Bailey. Living next door.

  She didn’t want him here. Stupid online bookings. If he had called in person about renting the cottage next to hers—one of five small, charming two-bedroom vacation rentals along the lakeshore—she might have been able to concoct some excuse.

  With her imagination, surely she could have come up with something good. All the cottages were being painted. A plumbing issue meant none of them had water. The entire place had to be fumigated for tarantulas.

  If she had spoken with him in person, she may have been able to concoct some excuse that would keep Elliot Bailey away. But he had used the inn’s online reservation system and paid in full before she even realized who was moving in next door. Now she was stuck with him for three entire weeks.

  She would have to make the best of it.

  As he tried the door again, guilt poked at her. Even if she didn’t want him here, she couldn’t sit here when one of her guests needed help. It was rude, selfish and irresponsible. “Stay,” she murmured to Cyrus, then stood up and made her way down the porch steps of Primrose Cottage and back up those of Cedarwood.

  “May I help?”

  At her words, Elliot whirled around, the fingers of his right hand flexing inside his sling as if reaching for a weapon. She could only hope he didn’t have one. Maybe she should have thought of that before sneaking up on him.

  Elliot was a decorated FBI agent and always exuded an air of cold danger, as if ready to strike at any moment. It was as much a part of him as his blue eyes.

  His brother had shared the same eyes, but the similarities between them ended there. Wyatt’s blue eyes had been warm, alive, brimming with personality. Elliot’s were serious and solemn and always seemed to look at her as if she were some kind of alien life form that had landed in his world.

  Her heart gave a familiar pinch at the thought of Wyatt and the fledgling dreams that had been taken away from her on a snowy road so long ago.

  “Megan,” he said, his voice as stiff and formal as if he were greeting J. Edgar Hoover himself. “I didn’t see you.”

  “It’s a dark evening and I’m easy to miss. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  In the yellow glow of the porch light, his features appeared lean and alert, like a hungry mountain lion. She could feel her muscles tense in response, a helpless doe caught unawares in an alpine meadow.

  She adored the rest of the Bailey family. All of them, even linebacker-big Marshall. Why was Elliot the only one who made her so blasted nervous?

  “May I help you?” she asked again. “This lock can be sticky. Usually it takes two hands, o
ne to twist the key and the other to pull the door toward you.”

  “That could be an issue for the next three weeks.” His voice seemed flat and she had the vague, somewhat disconcerting impression that he was tired. Elliot always seemed so invincible but now lines bracketed his mouth and his hair was uncharacteristically rumpled. It seemed so odd to see him as anything other than perfectly controlled.

  Of course he was tired. The man had just driven in from Denver. Anybody would be exhausted after an eight-hour drive—especially when he was healing from an obvious injury and probably in pain.

  What happened to his arm? She wanted to ask, but couldn’t quite find the courage. It wasn’t her business anyway. Elliot was a guest of her inn and deserved all the hospitality she offered to any guest—including whatever privacy he needed and help accessing the cottage he had paid in advance to rent.

  “There is a trick,” she told him. “If you pull the door slightly toward you first, then turn the key, you should be able to manage with one hand. If you have trouble again, you can find me or one of the staff to help you. I live next door.”

  The sound he made might have been a laugh or a scoff. She couldn’t tell.

  “Of course you live next door. I should have known.”

  She frowned. What did that mean? With all the renovations to the inn after a devastating fire, she couldn’t afford to pay for an overnight manager. It had seemed easier to move into one of the cottages so she could be close enough to step in if the front desk clerks had a problem in the middle of the night.

  That was the only reason she was here. Elliot didn’t need to respond to that information as if she was some loser who hadn’t been able to fly far from the nest.

  “We need someone on-site full-time to handle emergencies,” she said stiffly. “Such as guests who can’t open their doors by themselves.”

  “I am certainly not about to bother you or your staff every time I need to go in and out of my own rental unit. I’ll figure something out.”

  His voice sounded tight, annoyed, and she tried to attribute it to travel weariness instead of that subtle disapproval she always seemed to feel emanating from him.