The Bull Rider's Twins

by Tina Leonard

  “But it’s such a great place to live.” Judah held up a fluffy white baby blanket embroidered with a pink giraffe. “Why are we receiving pink things, Darla? Am I the last one in town to know something?”

  She giggled. “It would be both of us. Unless my doctor has dropped a hint…”

  They stared at each other.

  “He wouldn’t have,” Darla said.

  Judah shook his head. “No. Doc Graybill wouldn’t.”

  “Unless Fiona wormed it out of him,” Darla said.

  Judah started to deny the possibility, then closed his mouth.

  Darla sighed. “Let me know if anybody gives us something blue. But you see, there are reasons not to live at Rancho Diablo while we’re still getting to know each other, Judah.”

  He gave her a look of innocence. “Did I ever hint that I wanted to move to the ranch?”

  “You just claimed my house is too small.”

  “It is,” Judah said, “but I like being as close to you as possible, Mrs. Callahan. In fact, I’d like to be a lot closer. Let’s downsize and get a smaller house and a much smaller bed.” He grabbed her around the waist, lifting her so that she had to put down the gift she’d been unwrapping, after which he carried her to the bedroom.

  Darla laughed, enjoying her husband’s antics, thinking that there was nothing more wonderful than making love with Judah on a summer afternoon in August. But then pain sliced across her belly, and she doubled up. Worried, Darla waited for the pain to go away.

  “What happened? Are you all right?” Judah asked, leaning over her as she took deep breaths through her nose, trying to stay calm.

  Another cramp racked her. “Probably just a little baby kick or two. Maybe we’re having dancers. I don’t think it’s something I ate.”

  “We had oatmeal,” he said. “Plain organic oatmeal with a tiny bit of brown sugar, nothing exciting, so that means, Darla, my love, that you get a trip in my chariot to see the doctor. We’ll let him tell us if you’ve got garden variety gas cramps. Or just a lot of baby fun going on in there.”

  “I think you’re right,” Darla said, letting Judah lead her past the presents to the door, feeling her whole world shake around her.

  “I’M NO COWARD,” Judah told his brothers, who’d gathered around him to wait at the hospital, where Darla had been instantly sent by her concerned doctor, “but I’m shaking like a leaf right now. And if somebody doesn’t come out of that room soon and tell me something about my wife, I’m going Rambo.”

  “Easy,” Jonas said. “Darla needs you in a Zen state, not all whacked out. Everything’s going to be fine.”

  “You’re a cardiac guy, what the hell do you know about that end of the female body, anyway?” Judah snapped, appreciating his brother trying to ease his fears, but unable to do anything but bite down on any hand that reached out to comfort him. Like a feral wolf. That’s how he felt: feral, primitive, caged. This is when he ran. Always separating himself from fear, anxiety, doubt.

  This time he couldn’t. He had to sit here and wait. Darla wasn’t far enough along to be having the babies. He knew that, though Jonas hadn’t proffered any professional opinion. Judah had seen his brother hanging around the nurses’ station, ferreting information out of them. Medical terminology was way over Judah’s head at the moment. He wanted a simple “your wife is fine, your babies are fine.”

  He wanted to be with Darla, but Darla had said she wanted him to stay in the waiting room. Had insisted.

  The anxiety was killing him. He wondered why she hadn’t wanted him with her. Shouldn’t a wife want her husband? If he didn’t hear something soon, he was going to make everybody mad by barging into his wife’s room, and damn the consequences. Of all people, Darla knew best that he wasn’t a patient worrier. He wasn’t patient about anything.

  At least he had his brothers with him to wait this agony out. “So, you guys are butts for giving Darla and me pink cowboy boots.”

  “You’re having two babies,” Sam pointed out. “We thought it was a priceless idea. Rafe came up with that one. I was rooting for pink baby dolls, but then Rafe suggested pink ropers and we immediately ordered them.”

  Judah grunted. “Why not blue?”

  His brothers smirked at him.

  “Why would you be the one to have the boys in this family?” Creed asked.

  “A precedent has been set, if you haven’t noticed,” Pete said, “and we figure gambler’s odds on pink being the order of the day.”

  “We’ll see about that.” He’d be happy to have babies of either sex—babies born healthy and yelling the ears off the nurses, though not tonight. They weren’t quite ready to come out of the maternal oven. “What could be taking so long? Darla was just having a bit of a stomach ache.”

  The brothers turned their gazes to Jonas, who shrugged.

  He was saved from answering by the doctor coming out. “Mr. Callahan?” he said, and all the brothers said, “Yes?”

  “Sorry,” Rafe said, “we’re strung tighter than guitars. This is Dad.” He pointed to Judah, who stood, with nervous pangs attacking him.

  “I’m Darla’s husband,” he said. “These are my brothers.”

  “Why don’t you step back here so we can talk, Mr. Callahan?” the doctor suggested. “I’m Dr. Feske.”

  “Can I see my wife?” Judah asked.

  “You can, but let’s talk first.” They settled in a small room, and from the unsmiling expression on Dr. Feske’s face, Judah knew the news wasn’t good.

  “Is Darla all right?”

  “Your wife is fine. Your daughters were born prematurely—”

  Judah tried to bat back the small specks of blackness dancing in front of his eyes. “Prematurely? They’ve hardly had time to grow.”

  “The success rate with preemies is quite good, though they’ll be in the hospital for some time.”

  “Is something wrong?” Judah pressed his palms together, trying to keep his hands from shaking.

  “We’re running tests to make certain everything is as it should be, in the range for the amount of time they spent—”

  “Doctor,” Judah interrupted, “is Darla all right?”

  He nodded. “Mr. Callahan, the prognosis is good for your entire family. Yes, the babies are young, but they seem well-developed and within the norm for what—”

  “I’m sorry,” Judah said. “But I can only take in about half of what you’re saying, and I really need to see my wife.” He wasn’t certain he’d ever felt this desperate in his life. Fear gnawed at him, driving him crazy.

  “I understand, Mr. Callahan. Would you like to see your wife, or visit the neonatal—”

  “Darla,” Judah said. “I need to see my wife.”

  The doctor led him to Darla’s room. She was pale, and had a sheet pulled up to her neck.

  “Hey, beautiful,” Judah said. “How do you feel?”

  “Like I’ve been through a washer.” She looked at him as he tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Have you seen the babies? What do you think?”

  “I came to see you first.” Judah kissed her forehead, then her lips.

  “Well, apparently your daughters were anxious to see you,” Darla told him. “They get their impatience from the Callahan side of the tree.”

  He tried to smile for her sake. “Everything’s going to be fine.”

  “I know,” Darla said. “They’re Callahans. They’re tough.”

  Judah nodded, his throat tight. He hoped so. God, how he hoped so.

  Chapter Seventeen

  When Judah saw his daughters ten minutes later, he honestly thought his heart stopped. He felt for his chest, wondering if he’d imagined a skipped beat. His daughters weren’t tough at all. They were tiny, half the size of footballs maybe, with more tubes than a baby should endure taped to teeny appendages.

  He wanted to cry. Pete’s daughters had gone longer in the womb than these, and at their birth, Judah had been totally unnerved by those tiny little babie
s. He was overcome now by the urge to hold his daughters, but he knew he couldn’t.

  He had to stay strong for Darla.

  “You’re as beautiful as your mother,” he told his twin girls through the glass. “You don’t know this now, but she’s a nurse. She can help you grow big and strong.”

  Then his shoulders began to shake, and he started to cry, wondering what he could have done differently to help his tiny babies grow. The doctor didn’t have to lie to him. Judah could tell that these babies might not make it, and if they did, they might not be strong, barrel-racing, boot-scooting cowgirls. “You’ve got me on your team,” he told them, “and I’m a big, tough guy. Daddy won’t let anything happen to you. Nothing at all.”

  But he thought they needed guardian angels, too.

  “Don’t worry,” a voice said next to him.

  Judah turned, startled to see Fiona’s Native American friend standing at his side.

  “Do not worry,” he said, his black eyes sure and calm as he met Judah’s gaze. “These are blessings, and they are meant to be here. They are meant to make you strong.”

  Judah blinked. “You mean, I must make them strong.”

  “No.” He went back to perusing the tiny bassinets.

  After a moment, he surprised Judah by taking out an iPhone and snapping a picture. “I will say prayers,” he told Judah, and then ambled down the hall.

  Judah stared after the man, who disappeared around the corner before he had a chance to say anything else, stunned as he was by the sudden visit. Then he glanced back at his daughters, his gaze searching, but strangely enough, he felt calmer now.

  “I’m going to go take care of your mother,” Judah told his daughters. “But I’ll be back. Every day you’ll see my face at this window. For now you just rest, and when you’re ready, I’ll be here to hold you. Daddy will always be around to hold you, until finally it’s your turn to take care of me.”

  Judah loped off to find his wife. It was just beginning to hit him that he was a father now, for real. Those tiny bundles were his, and he felt as if he’d just been handed the world’s biggest trophy and the shiniest buckle ever made.

  “HE’S CHANGED,” Fiona told Burke a week later. “I don’t know what’s come over Judah, but he’s seems in permanent ‘ohm’ mode. Have you noticed the calmer, more relaxed Judah? When he’s not at the hospital, that is.”

  “Guess he likes being a father.” Burke put away the last of the dishes and smiled at her. “He just didn’t know how much he would, maybe.”

  “He’s different.” Fiona considered her nephew with some pleasure. “Nothing rattles him anymore. He never even mentions being shot. I’ve got the ballistics report from the sheriff, but Judah never talks about what happened that night, so I’m sure not going to bring it up.”

  Burke shrugged. “The shooting wasn’t important to Judah, as long as Darla was fine. I think he believes it was an accident, and if it wasn’t, Sheriff Cartwright’ll let him know. All Judah cares about is that he married Darla with no static from next door, and he has his daughters. That’s all that matters to him.” Burke looked over Fiona’s shoulder at the paper she held. “So what does it say?”

  “That the gun was a .38. It’s not registered to Bode or anybody else in this town. Likely it was black market.” Fiona frowned, her thoughts moving from the pleasant aspect of her two new great-nieces to the rumblings on the ranch. “Which scares me, because it means we don’t know what we’re dealing with. It’s a new element. I was hoping it was Bode,” she said, “because we could have easily handled him.”

  Burke frowned. “Does the sheriff have any theories?”

  “They found no footprints, and no new vehicles coming through town that they noticed that night or since. No one’s been in town asking questions, and nobody has contacted the sheriff’s office with any tips. And everyone knows about the shooting, because most of Diablo was there. So if somebody strange was hanging around, Sheriff Cartwright would get a call in a hurry.”

  “Why would someone we don’t know want to take a pot-shot at Judah?” Burke asked.

  Fiona and he looked at each other for a long time.

  Then they turned back to cleaning the kitchen, both to their own tasks, without saying another word.

  SINCE DARLA HAD REQUIRED a C-section, her mother and all her friends wanted to come over and take care of her. Judah found he didn’t have as much time alone with his wife as he wished, thanks to the steady stream of callers. He’d asked Darla if she’d like for him to start screening her visitors a bit, trim her social time, so she could rest—and so he could spend some time with her.

  Darla had said she enjoyed the company and knew he needed to be working, so he might as well go do what he had to do and let everybody else look in on her if they wanted to. He’d tried to act as if he had a whole lot he could be doing, but the truth was, his brothers were covering for him, and shooed him away from the chores if he ever came to help.

  It was getting depressing. There was nothing for him to do at the hospital except stare through the glass at his daughters, and because he was there so much, it seemed to him that they never grew. He didn’t detect any changes at all, which gave him the nearest thing to a panic attack he could ever recall having.

  In fact, staring at his babies and not being able to do anything to help them was worse than a bad ride. He’d rather be thrown any day of the week than be helpless, as he was now.

  And Darla didn’t want him hanging around. That much was clear. She said she had “lady” moments he couldn’t help with, which he’d decided was code for I’m trying to figure out pumping breast milk, so I need Jackie and Aberdeen more than you right now.

  Although he would have been more than happy to help with that. He was pretty sure Darla’s breasts were a lot bigger right now, and he wouldn’t have minded reacquainting himself with them, which he supposed was a chauvinistic thought, except that he missed his wife and wanted to feel he had some connection with her.

  He felt like a roommate. He wasn’t even sleeping with her, having banished himself to a guest room so she could rest, and so he wouldn’t accidentally turn over in the night, forget and reach for her, and crush her stitches or something. He didn’t know if she had stitches. He wasn’t certain how a C-section was performed, exactly. He did feel that his wife was in a fragile state right now, and the best thing he could do was not roll over on her in his sleep.

  But she hadn’t invited him into her room, either.

  Forced away from chores on the ranch and outnumbered by females in his house, Judah slunk off to the bunkhouse to try to center himself. He flung himself onto the leather sofa and closed his eyes in complete appreciation of the quietude.

  Which lasted all of five minutes before the door blew open on a strong gust of wind. Judah didn’t open his eyes until he realized the door hadn’t closed.

  He sighed upon seeing his visitor. “It would be you, Tunstall. An ill wind blows no good.”

  “Your brothers said I’d find you here,” Sidney said. “Mind if I talk to you?”

  Judah sat up and motioned to the sofa. “Sit.”

  He waited for Sidney to unload. Hopefully, this was about anything other than Darla. Right now, Judah wasn’t in the mood to discuss his wife, or his life, or much of anything. He didn’t even want company.

  “Congratulations on the twins,” Sidney said.

  “No doubt you wish Darla was married to you. Probably, you figure that as a doctor, you could care for them better than I can,” Judah said sourly.

  “Problems?” Sidney asked.

  “Do I look like I’m having problems?”

  “You always look like you’re having problems, Judah.” Sidney smiled. “Your daughters are going to be fine.”

  Judah crooked a brow. “Do you think so? Or are you just blowing smoke up my ass for your own nefarious purposes?”

  “Now, Callahan,” Sidney said. “Darla told me you were having a few little worries about your girls
. I just came to reassure you.”

  Judah grimaced. “Because you’re a pediatrician or a wizard, and know so much.”

  Sidney shook his head. “Look. I know all this animosity isn’t because of Darla. I know you’re worried. Darla loves you. She just wants you to lighten up so she can quit worrying about you.”

  “Did she send you to tell me this or are you applying for a job as a marriage counselor?” Judah couldn’t have said why he was so ornery. Pretty much anything Tunstall said was going to rile him. His brothers could give testimony to the fact that just about everything annoyed Judah lately. “Okay,” he finally said. “I’ll admit I’m a little worked up. But that doesn’t mean I want you here ladling out advice and words of comfort I don’t need.”

  Sidney nodded. “All right.”

  “So you can go.” Judah waved a hand toward the door.

  “I haven’t finished.”

  Judah raised a brow. “Then would you get on with it? I don’t have all day to listen to your clichés.”

  Sidney laughed. “You really have it bad, don’t you?”

  “Have what bad?” He frowned.

  “Never mind,” the doctor said. “Listen, what I wanted to ask you is…” He lowered his voice, even though there was no one else in the bunkhouse. “Well, I’ve been talking to Diane lately. And I was wondering—”

  Judah held up a hand. “No. You can’t marry her to fulfill the terms of that inheritance that’s hanging over your head. Diane isn’t Darla. Darla was being…well, she was trying to be helpful because she’s like that, and you caught her at a difficult time in her life, and…I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “I wasn’t talking about Darla. You were,” Sidney said. “All I want to know is if you think Diane is ready to date. I didn’t say I wanted to marry her. Jeez.”

  Judah lowered his eyelids, considering him through slitted eyes. “You’re kind of a snake in the grass, aren’t you?”

  “I resent that!”

  Sidney really did sound riled. Judah grunted, realizing he’d drawn blood, when he hadn’t drawn any with all the other barbs he’d flung at the doc. “All right. Why Diane?”