Montana Twins

“The way I see it, they are home. Right here.”

“Yes, well…” For a man who’d only lately learned about the twins, he had certainly developed a possessive streak. Or maybe he was challenging her because he was innately competitive. Given the number of rodeo trophies on the mantel downstairs, he wasn’t one to give up easily. “That’s yet to be determined, isn’t it?”

“A court might decide my claim has more merit than yours, given my relationship with the twins.”

“You’re welcome to consult with an attorney.” She and Amy had already done that. In general, the mother’s wishes would prevail.

“I think I’ll do that tomorrow. Assuming you don’t mind staying with the babies while I drive into Great Falls and back.”

“If you’re planning to raise the twins, you’d better get used to having to take them with you wherever you go.”

His brows slammed down into a straight line, narrowing his eyes. “Now you’re telling me I’ll be disqualified as a father if I use a baby-sitter?”

Laura was sure Eric knew how to smile, but she had yet to see him accomplish the maneuver. But then, her comment had been unreasonable. “Point taken. I’ll stay with the twins while you check with your attorney.”

Before her accident, Laura had had adolescent dreams of someday finding a man as protective of her as Eric appeared to be of the twins. But as she’d grown older and finally fallen in love, she’d learned the truth. She was damaged goods, a woman no man would want to marry. She couldn’t bear his children.

She swallowed back the bitter memory. A man as macho as Sheriff Oakes would demand nothing less than perfection.

“Come to think of it,” Eric said, “who watches the twins when you’re at work?”

She cut him a sharp look. Fair was fair, she supposed, and he had a right to know what arrangements she’d made for the twins. “My mother will baby-sit the twins during the school year. She lives only a mile from me and adores Mandy and Becky. She loved Amy like her own, and she’s always wanted grandchildren but knew, since my accident—”

“Does that mean in order to get custody I have to come up with a loving grandmother, too, as well as a wife?”

“Well, no, I’d never require that of you.” Although Laura’s mother would be heartbroken to lose the only grandchildren she was likely to have.

He nodded, but his expression didn’t soften much. “Now, you were saying you needed something?”

She forced her thoughts back to practicalities. “A changing table. If you’ve got a card table or something like that I can use, it will do temporarily.”

“I haven’t done much decorating of the place, it didn’t seem important.” Until now, he realized. What did a bachelor need with eight rooms filled with furniture? He only used three or four of the rooms himself. But if this was going to be the twins’ home, they needed the right equipment. “Come on, we’re going shopping.”

“For what?”

“I saw some oak chests of drawers at the general store. Handmade by an old guy east of town. There ought to be one that’s the right size. You can help me pick it out. We can put their clothes and stuff inside.” He headed for the hallway. He could get another crib, too. At least order one from the catalogs Hetty Moore kept around. And he remembered Susie-Q, Lizzie’s little girl, had a jumping swing thing. He’d need two of—

“Eric, the babies are about to wake up. They’ll be hungry and need their bottles.”

“Oh. Well, okay.” So he needed to learn their schedules. No big deal. “We’ll feed them and then we’ll go.”

“What time does the store close?”

He checked his watch. “Six o’clock. It’s four now.”

“That should give us barely enough time—if the store doesn’t have a big selection and you don’t linger over your decision.”

His jaw went slack. It took that long to get the twins ready to roll? Lord, when he got up in the morning, he shaved, showered, ate breakfast and was on the road in under thirty minutes. How much longer could it take to get two itty-bitty babies organized for a trip of less than a half mile?

IT WAS LIKE PREPARING for an African safari.

There was a diaper bag, extra bottles, a plastic baggie of pacifiers in case the twins began to fuss. Then Laura had insisted that the infant car seats, which only an hour ago he’d taken into the house, had to be transferred to his vehicle. She was right, of course, that the babies’ safety was all-important but the seat belts had tangled. Sorting out the mess had taken Eric a full twenty minutes. She’d suggested, with mock sweetness, that they could take her SUV, which had the seat belts already adjusted to the proper length.

Not a chance! They were his kids now.

Still, he had to give her credit. While he had battled frustration, she had remained calm. Cuddling the twins and cooing at them. Checking on his workmanship to be sure the babies would be as safe as possible.

A child could do worse than have her as a mother.

Which didn’t mean Eric was going to concede the twins’ custody to her, not by a long shot. Blood counted.

By the time they all piled into the police cruiser, a black-and-white SUV with a light bar on top—which he’d been forced to drive because his personal vehicle was a pickup truck that didn’t have a place for the twins—Eric was exhausted. He suspected Laura was, too. But she was so tight-lipped, he was afraid to comment.

Hell, they would have been better off to carry the babies down the street to the general store. But then, how would they have gotten a chest of drawers back home if he hadn’t driven the SUV?

Not that there was much time left before the store closed to do their shopping by the time they got there.

LAURA ADJUSTED AMANDA in a cuddly sling across her chest. She had yet to find a sling to handle both babies at once, so Eric carried Rebecca into the general store.

A cheery chime greeted their arrival as he pushed open the door and held it for Laura.

An amazing array of products, from wilted produce to bathroom faucets, cluttered the narrow aisles. Aging Christmas items were still on display on the higher shelves, two-foot-tall aluminum trees, dusty Styrofoam snowmen in jaunty hats and a plastic crèche missing its wise men.

Idly Laura wondered how many years the decorations had been waiting for a frantic last-minute shopper to succumb to desperation.

From the back of the store, a woman appeared. She wore a blue butcher’s apron over a print dress and had one of those faces that was best described as having character. Laura guessed a line had been etched for each of the seventy-something years she had lived in Montana.

“Afternoon, Eric. Bet you’ve run out of frozen dinners again and don’t want to eat at—” Her eye caught the baby in his arms, and she halted abruptly. “My sakes, look at what you’ve got. Isn’t she the cutest little thing.”

Laura winced as the woman chucked Rebecca under the chin. She’d been told by the doctor that the twins’ immune system might not be as strong as those of a higher birth-weight baby, and she hated to take the twins around strangers.

“Excuse me,” Laura said. “The babies are—”

“Hetty, I’d like you to meet Laura Cavendish. Hetty Moore and her husband, Joe, own the store.”

Laura smiled politely, but before she could prevent it, Hetty had zeroed in on Mandy’s rosy cheek, giving the baby a grandmotherly pinch.

“Twins…” she crooned. “You’ve been keeping secrets from us, Eric. Shame on you. These little bundles are too precious to hide. And their mamma, too. Such a pretty girl.”

“I didn’t know about them till yesterday, Hetty.”

“He’s their uncle,” Laura tried to explain.

Hetty’s eyes widened and she gasped. “You mean Walker has been—surely not Rory. Why, they’re only just married, the both of them. I can’t think what gets into a man’s head these days. My Joe and me—”

“Hetty! It’s not what you think. This has nothing to do with my brothers.”

She huffed. “I should hope not.”

Eric rolled his eyes, and Laura stifled a smile. The good folks of Grass Valley had a tendency to jump to conclusions. Explaining the situation would likely take hours, and there wasn’t that much time before the store closed.

“Eric was hoping to buy a small chest of drawers to put the twins’ things in,” Laura said.

“With two new babies to manage, you’ll be needing a lot more than one chest of drawers.” On a mission now, Hetty bustled down the aisle toward the back of the store.

“They may not be staying that long,” Laura called, hurrying after her.

“Now, honey, you don’t have to play coy with me, giving me some wild story about young Eric being the twins’ uncle. If he’s their daddy, you have to give him a chance to make up for whatever he did that upset you. I’m sure you two can work out your differences.”

“We might as well give it up for now,” Eric muttered only loud enough for Laura to hear. “Once Hetty gets something in her head, it sticks there like Super Glue, even if it’s wrong.”

“I don’t want people to think you and I—”

“They won’t. Not for long.”

Just what did that mean? Was he going to take out an ad in the local paper, assuming there was one, to explain the situation? Or was it simply too obvious the handsome town sheriff wouldn’t be caught dead with someone like her? Not that she was a dog. But she certainly wasn’t model thin. Nor had she ever been considered sexy. Men had never fallen all over themselves to ask her out. And the few who had soon lost interest, either because she knew more about history and government than they did, or because she couldn’t give birth to the offspring their egos demanded a woman produce.

“Now here’s a nice one.” Hetty scooped a display of American flags and red, white and blue bunting off the top of a five-foot high honey-oak chest of drawers. “Conrad Gelb’s a true craftsman. I’m sure he’d make up another one just like this if—”

“It’s too tall,” Laura said. “I’m going to use it for a changing table while I’m here.”

“He could make you one of those, too, if you want.”

“We aren’t a hundred percent sure the babies will be staying—”

“I’m sure.” Juggling Rebecca in one arm, Eric lifted the edge of a dust cover from a similar oak piece that was about waist high and had three drawers. “How about this one?”

Laura nodded. “That would work fine.”

“Won’t hold but a teaspoon’s worth of baby clothes,” Hetty warned.

“We’ll take it.” Eric glanced around the store. “How ’bout those swing things babies like?”

To Laura’s dismay, and frequently over her objections, Eric went on a shopping spree that would have made most women envious. It made Laura uneasy. She didn’t like the thought of anyone wasting money. And she didn’t like the idea that Eric was so determined to provide everything possible the twins could want or need. In the long run, that attitude wouldn’t be healthy for the twins.

Short term, it would make it all the harder to put the babies back in her car and take them away from Eric.

Finally running out of steam, Eric handed Rebecca off to Hetty, who cuddled, cooed and happily pinched the baby’s cheeks.

Joe Moore, Hetty’s big, burly husband, who looked nothing like a storekeeper, was called from the back room to help carry the purchases out to the car.

Laura had the distinct feeling she and the babies had been dropped into the middle of a fast-moving stream at flood stage and were being carried along by the current. A helpless feeling and inherently dangerous.

ERIC PLACED the oversize teddy bear near the crib, fluffed its polka-dot bow and stepped back to admire his work. He’d brought everything up from the car. The low chest of drawers was in place across from the windows. The wind-up, jumping-rocking swing was at the closet end of the room right next to an oak rocking chair. Hetty had told him all moms needed a rocking chair.

A dad would, too, he reasoned, smiling. Yep, he’d done all right for his first day as a father.

The cry of a baby preceded Laura’s arrival in the nursery, one of the twins in her arms. He couldn’t tell them apart yet but he would soon enough.

She handed him the baby. “Mandy needs a change.”

“You want me to do it?”

“It comes with the territory, Sheriff. Spending money does not a father make.”

“I know that,” he mumbled. “It’s just that I haven’t ever—”

“Changed a diaper. I suspected as much. It’s time for your first lesson.”

“Maybe I ought to watch first.”

“Hands-on is the best way to learn, and Becky dozed off after her bottle, so this is a good time. Unless you’d like to wait until they’re both fussing.”

“You have a vindictive streak, don’t you?” He carried Mandy to the dresser and laid her on the thick pad he’d bought for this very purpose. He should have known Laura would make him initiate the darn thing.

Laura’s smile was all too smug. “Possibly.”

Almost immediately, Mandy began to fuss and kick her little legs.

“Hold still, Twinkle-Toes.” He managed to un-snap the legs on the pink-and-white sleeper but had trouble getting the toes unhooked. “Hey, Sweet Cheeks, how ’bout a little cooperation for your old man?”

Mandy’s crying increased in volume.

Eric began to sweat. “Feel free to help out anytime you feel like it.”

“You’re doing fine.”

Like hell! A little more struggling and he got one foot out. The second came easier. He gave Laura a grim smile of accomplishment. “Now what?”

“Take the old diaper off, use a wipe and put on some lotion so she doesn’t get a rash.”

It all sounded so easy the way she rattled off the instructions.

By bending Mandy’s legs over the top of her head, he got the old diaper off. He needed a third hand to reach the new diaper, and by the time he got that more or less in place, he realized he hadn’t done the wipe and lotion part. So he started again.

By now Mandy was pretty frantic, little sobs lifting her chest.

He opened the diaper, did a swipe, spread the lotion, reconnected the sides to the front with the sticky tabs and lifted Mandy, smooching her on the forehead, quieting her immediately.

He exhaled in relief, giving Laura a triumphant smile. And the diaper slipped down around Mandy’s ankles.

Laura’s stern, disapproving expression cracked. He’d thought of her eyes as an ordinary shade of pale blue, and they suddenly sparkled with amusement—at his expense—and he decided they held an amazing depth. Her smile was like a sunrise after a stormy night when the dark clouds had finally lifted. Her laughter reminded him of a lyrical songbird, light and airy. The uncanny transformation flustered and bewildered him. Beneath her tough-as-nails, I’m-the-teacher exterior lurked an entirely different woman.

A woman a man might have trouble resisting—if she were interested.

“I’m sorry.” She covered her mouth to silence her laughter, and he was sorry she’d hidden her beautiful smile. “It’s just that you looked so—”

“Ridiculous. I know.”

“No.” Her gaze softened. “Endearing. You were trying so hard, and then—”

“Yeah. I sort of made a mess of things.” Except now Mandy had her head buried against his neck, sucking on his collar, and seemed as contented as a baby could be. That part felt good.

“Perhaps we should start again and begin with me showing you the basics.”

He met her gaze, nodding. “Starting again sounds like a great idea.” He didn’t limit his thoughts to simply starting over with basic baby-care lessons.

SHE SHOULD HAVE PAID closer attention to Hetty’s comment about Eric eating frozen dinners.

Laura gazed into the refrigerator at the meager contents. A gallon of milk, a six-pack of beer, some eggs, two apples—one of which was already half rotten—and an assortment of condiments.

“I’m not much of a cook,” he admitted. “Most of the time I grab a burger and fries over at the saloon. Or stick something in the microwave.”

She opened the freezer and found the selection pretty much limited to pot pies and lasagna. “You might want to consider adding fresh vegetables to your diet.”

One side of his lips kicked up into a half grin. “Guess I’ll have to be a good example to the twins, huh?”

Now that he’d stopped glaring at her all the time, he looked less formidable. Which didn’t make him any less dangerous. More so, since he was so set on being a good father.

“I’ll treat you to chicken pot pies tonight,” he said. “Tomorrow I’ll pick up some fresh stuff when I’m in Great Falls. Hetty doesn’t have a real good selection.”

“I noticed.”

While Eric started dinner, Laura surveyed the spacious kitchen. The twins were in their car seats in the middle of a long oak picnic-style table with benches, probably crafted by the same man who had made the chest of drawers upstairs. The cabinets were a darker wood and needed a face-lift as did the tile counters. But there was a big window over the sink that faced west. It was dark now but Laura suspected it would provide a view of some spectacular sunsets.

“How long have you been sheriff?” she asked Eric while she tickled Rebecca’s tummy with one finger. Her reward was a wide, gummy smile.

“About five years. Before that I was on the rodeo circuit.”

“I noticed the trophies.” How could she not when they were on such prominent display?

“I had some Best-All-Around years until I took one too many headers off a bronc named Lucifer. I broke my leg in three places. Now I’ve got a couple of pins that set off security alarms in airports.” Still in his uniform, he stood with his back to the counter, one booted ankle crossed over the other, looking very much at ease. “I had to stay off my feet for six months, so I moved back to the Double O Ranch. About the time I was mobile again the former sheriff announced his retirement. I decided settling down was a good idea.”

“But not on the ranch?”

“Walker enjoys punching cows a lot more than I ever did, and he’s a good manager. Rory and I still have an interest in the place, though, and help out during roundups, that sort of thing.”

“I gather no woman wanted to settle down with you?”

His eyes immediately narrowed, and Laura regretted she’d asked such a personal question. It wasn’t that she was prying, exactly. Knowing something of Eric’s past, including his recent history, would help her decide if he was suitable to be the twins’ father.

“I’ve never met a woman I wanted to ask.” He held her gaze, the microwave humming its monotonous note behind him. “How about you? Have you ever been married?”

She swallowed hard and turned back to the twins. Mandy had spit out her pacifier; Laura plugged it back in. “I came close once. It didn’t work out.”

“What went wrong?” His voice was a little softer than it had been. Intimate.

Her past was none of his business, except maybe he’d understand better why she was so reluctant to turn over the twins to a stranger. Why she wanted to be their mother.

“He wanted to have a son to carry on the family name.” Lifting her head, she looked at him levelly despite the painful knot in her stomach. “I can’t have children. I was in an accident and they had to remove my uterus.”

His mouth went a little slack. “I’m sorry.”

“No more than I am.” She forced a shrug she hoped looked casual. “The worst is, they left the rest of my female parts, so I get the joy of PMS without any of the benefits.”

The buzzer on the microwave saved him from responding to her revelation. Just as well. Laura didn’t want his sympathy.

She wanted a reason, even a small one, to salve her conscience so she could reject him as a suitable father for the twins and raise them herself. After meeting Eric, that had to be the most selfish thing she’d ever wanted in her life.

DINNER didn’t go well.

Laura explained to Eric the uncanny knack the twins had for turning fussy the moment anyone sat down to eat a quiet meal. Eric found himself cradling Becky in the crook of his left arm while trying to fork a bite or two of pot pie into his mouth without dribbling the hot gravy on the baby. Not an easy task.

She couldn’t have babies of her own. No wonder she was so damn anxious to keep the twins for herself. As much as he might sympathize, that didn’t mean he had to hand them over to her. His sister had wanted him to raise her babies. It made sense that they’d live with a blood relative.

As a kid in foster care, Eric had spent hours fantasizing about an uncle or aunt or grandparent who’d show up and give him the home he’d dreamed of having. His own family. But nobody came.

He wasn’t going to let that happen to Mandy and Becky. It didn’t matter how much Laura loved or wanted to raise them. Or that she’d been Amy’s foster sister.

She wasn’t real family.

By the time they’d finished eating, the babies were ready for another bottle. That was followed by a change of diapers and clean sleepers. Tomorrow, Laura warned, she’d give him a lesson in bathing the babies. It was too late now.

“Do you want to do the next feeding on your own?” she asked as she placed Mandy in the crib next to Rebecca. Magically, the pair gravitated toward each other.

“What time does that happen?”

“Usually between one and two. Then they wake again around five.”

“How are we supposed to get any sleep?”

She gave him a wry smile that said sleep wasn’t a part of the deal.

“I’ll handle both feedings,” he said generously. “You’ve been up since early morning.” Of course, he hadn’t been out to feed his horses yet this evening, and there were still dinner dishes to do. But there weren’t many and they could wait until morning. He’d put them in the sink to soak. No big deal.

She arched her brows. “If you’re sure.”

“I’ll have to manage sooner or later. I might as well start now. I’ll call you if I run into trouble.”

With a shake of her head, Laura told him good-night and headed toward the guest room. He was the most determined man she’d ever met. She suspected, however, it was a case of a fool rushing in when an experienced person would be more wary. Granted, he’d pretty well gotten the hang of changing diapers and could fix a bottle, but in the middle of the night his new skills might not come all that automatically.

The spare bedroom looked as though it had once belonged to a teenage girl, the white antique furniture and twin bed with a pink flounce likely left behind by the prior owners. It smelled musty, and she opened the window to let in some fresh air. The scent of sage and lush summer grass wafted in the window.

The faint glow of starlight shadowed the rolling landscape and outlined the nearby barn and corral. Unlike her home in Helena, where there was always the sound of neighbors coming or going and the hum of traffic on the boulevard, here silence enveloped the night. It pressed in on her ear drums, sending a message of loneliness that was more easily ignored when drowned out by the presence of others.

The sound of the back door opening broke the quiet, and she caught sight of Eric striding toward the barn. The horses in the corral whickered a soft greeting, moving in the same direction. No matter how tired he might be, caring for his animals came before his own comfort.

She pressed her lips together. Given a chance, he’d do the same for the twins.

Turning away from the window, she opened her suitcase and pulled out her cotton nightgown. She’d been busy all day and was too weary to unpack now. When she’d left home, she had hoped she wouldn’t be staying long in Grass Valley, wouldn’t need to settle in.

In the face of Eric’s determination to be a father, that goal seemed less attainable now.

The next day or two—or maybe one sleepless night up with crying infants—would tell the tale of his resolve.

She’d hope for the best—or perhaps it was the worst she was looking for in the twins’ sleeping habits.

ERIC WENT TO SLEEP making plans to hang an old tire as a swing from the cottonwood tree out front when the twins were old enough.