Babies in the Bargain

But Cutty picked up the ball where she’d dropped it and said, “Does your father know you’re here now?”

Kira finally managed to stop the flow of tears and dabbed at her face with the tissue. “He and my mom were killed a year ago in a freak accident. They were coming home from a day in the mountains when there was a rock slide onto the road. They were hit by a boulder that came right down on the car. They both died instantly.”

“I’m sorry,” he said once more. “Your mother was a nice enough woman.”

That was true. It was just that nice hadn’t had any potency against the strong will of the man she’d married. The man who had adopted her three-year-old daughter.

But that seemed beside the point now. Kira had come here hoping to find the sister she’d so desperately wanted to reconnect with. Hoping to find family. And it suddenly struck her that the only chance of that might be in Cutty Grant’s twins.

“The article said you have eighteen-month-old daughters,” she said then.

“Upstairs asleep as we speak,” he confirmed, a brighter note edging his voice at the mere mention of them.

“Marla’s babies?”

“Yes. They were barely three weeks old when the accident happened.”

“My nieces,” Kira said, trying it on for size because blood or no blood, if they were Marla’s babies, Kira felt a connection to them.

“I guess so,” Cutty conceded.

“I’d like to meet them. Get to know them. Would you let me?” she said impulsively and without any idea how she might go about that.

Cutty’s frown from earlier reappeared and he didn’t jump at the idea. Instead he said, “Like I said, they’re asleep.”

“I know. But…”

And that was when, completely out of the blue, the mess in the room caught her attention again and an idea popped into her head.

“What if I took the place of that woman you were talking to on the phone a few minutes ago?” she said before the notion had even had a chance to ferment.

“Betty? What if you took Betty’s place?” He sounded confused and leery at the same time.

“You said she took care of the twins and helped around the house, and without her—and with you needing to stay off your ankle—you’re obviously in a bind. So what if I did it? I’d like to help and that way I could get to know the babies. Bond with them.”

The more Kira considered this, the better it sounded to her.

But from the look on Cutty’s face it wasn’t having the same effect on him.

“Don’t you have a job or a husband or a boyfriend or something you need to get back to?”

“No, I don’t. In May I finished my Ph.D. in microbiology. I’m going to start teaching at the University of Colorado for the fall semester, but that doesn’t begin until the last week in August. I wasn’t really sure what I was going to do with myself until then but that means I’m free.”

“No husband or boyfriend, either?” he asked, and Kira couldn’t tell if he was looking for an out for himself or satisfying his own curiosity.

“No, no husband or boyfriend. I have one really close friend—Kit—but she can get along without me. Plus she’ll bring in my mail and water my plants for me, so it won’t be any problem for me to stay.”

“You really want to spend your summer vacation picking up after us? Changing diapers?” Cutty asked skeptically.

“I really do,” she said, hating that she sounded as desperate as she felt. “I admit that I don’t have any experience with kids,” she confessed because it seemed only fair to let him know what he was getting into. “But when it comes to cleaning—”

“You’re Tom Wentworth’s daughter,” Cutty supplied. “I don’t know, I like things casual.”

“Casual is good. I can be casual.” Although she wasn’t quite sure what casual housekeeping and child care meant.

But still he didn’t look convinced. In fact, he looked downright dubious and as if he was on the verge of saying thanks, but no thanks.

Why would he, though? It was clear he needed help and she was offering it.

Unless maybe he still harbored resentment toward her family for the way things had played out that night thirteen years ago when he’d come with Marla to tell their parents that he’d gotten their seventeen-year-old daughter pregnant.

“You know,” Kira ventured, “I didn’t have anything to do with what went on between you and my father. I know how ugly it got. He sent me to my room but I was hiding on the stairs, listening to what went on. He was a difficult man—”

“That’s an understatement. He was a tyrant.”

Kira didn’t dispute that. “But nobody can change the past and now he’s gone and so is Marla. But there are your twins. And me. I lost all these years that I could have had with Marla, with Anthony, and I can’t get them back. But I could have a future with the twins. If you’ll just let me.”

She hated the note of pleading that had somehow slipped into her tone.

And Cutty Grant must not have liked it much, either, because she saw his jaw clench suddenly and his voice turned tight. “I’m really not the bastard your father thought I was. The kind of bastard who would keep you from knowing your nieces.”

“I didn’t—I don’t—think you’re that. I just know there have to be hard feelings—”

“Harder than you’ll ever know. But I’m well aware of the fact that you were only a kid, that you didn’t have anything to do with it.”

“Then will you let me stay?”

Again he didn’t answer readily, and she knew he wasn’t eager to agree even if he did need the help.

But in the end she thought that he might have wanted to prove he wasn’t a bad guy, that he wasn’t punishing her for something she’d had nothing to do with, because he said, “I suppose we can give it a try.”

Kira was so happy to hear his decision that she couldn’t help grinning. “Shall I start right now?” she asked with a glance at the clutter all around them.

“It’ll all wait for tomorrow.”

In that case Kira thought it was probably better to get out of there before he changed his mind.

“Then if you’ll tell me where I can find a hotel or a motel I’ll get a room and be back first thing in the morning.”

Again he let silence reign as he seemed to consider something before he answered.

“If you aren’t particular about the ambience you can stay out back. Where Marla and I lived when we first got here.”

“No, I don’t care about the ambience. And it’s probably better if I’m close by.”

He didn’t look convinced of that but he didn’t rescind the offer.

“Do you have a suitcase somewhere?” he asked instead.

“Out in the rental car.”

“Why don’t you go get it and I’ll show you the accommodations?”

Kira didn’t waste any time complying. She hurried out to the car, retrieved her bag from the trunk and went back inside.

Cutty didn’t get to his feet until she was there. Then he did, leading the way from the living room through an open archway into a kitchen that was a disaster all its own.

He held the back door open for her, and she stepped into the small yard ahead of him, coming face-to-face with what looked to have been a garage once upon a time.

“This whole place belonged to my uncle Paulie. He converted the garage into an apartment for Marla and me, and added another garage to the side of the house later on.”

“So this is where you lived after you eloped?” Kira asked as they crossed the few feet of lawn and Cutty opened that door for her, too.

“Until my uncle died and left it all to us. Then we moved into the house. It’s been fixed up and refurnished. Ordinarily I rent it to students from the college. But since it’s summer vacation it’s empty.”

Cutty reached in and flipped a switch. Three lamps went on at once, illuminating an open space arranged as a studio apartment.

There were no walls, so only the furnishings determined what each area was used for. A double bed and an armoire delineated the bedroom. A small sofa and matching armchair, a coffee table and a television designated the living room. And some kitchen cupboards, a sink, a two-burner stove with a tiny oven, a refrigerator and a small table with two chairs made up the kitchen.

“That door alongside the armoire will put you into the bathroom,” Cutty explained without going farther than the doorway. “There’s a tub with a shower in it but the water heater is pretty small so if you do a lot of dishes you’ll want to wait half an hour before you take a bath.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

What she wasn’t sure of was why he had that dubious look on his face again, as if he was having second thoughts about this whole arrangement.

But if he was, he didn’t say it.

Instead he said, “The girls are usually awake by seven.”

“Seven. I’ll be over before that,” Kira said enthusiastically.

Cutty nodded his head. “There are towels in the bathroom. Sheets in the armoire. If you need anything before the morning—”

“I’ll be fine.”

He nodded again, which bothered Kira. If he didn’t want to go ahead with this, why didn’t he say something?

But all he said was, “Good night, then.”

“See you first thing in the morning,” Kira assured, moving to the door to see him out.

He turned to go without another word, leaving her with a view of his backside.

And although, as a rule, men’s rear ends were not something she took notice of, it only required one glance to recognize that his was a great one.

A great rear end to go with the rest of his great body and his great face and his great hair.

Not that any of that mattered, because it didn’t, she was quick to tell herself. She was only staying there for the babies, and anything about Cutty Grant was purely incidental.

Except that, incidental or not, she went on taking notice until Cutty Grant disappeared inside his house.

Chapter Two

Cutty had a hell of a time falling asleep Wednesday night and when he woke up before dawn Thursday morning it was aggravating to find his mind instantly on the mental treadmill that had kept him from sleeping in the first place. The treadmill Kira Wentworth’s appearance on his doorstep had caused.

She’d really shaken things up for him, and as he rolled onto his back and tried to fall asleep again, he didn’t feel any more sure of his decision to let her stick around.

He’d never expected to see any Wentworth again. Not after so many years and not when he was persona non grata in the extreme with Tom Wentworth.

Tom Wentworth who was the only Wentworth he ever really thought about when he thought about the family Marla had been estranged from. But then her adopted mother and adopted sister were just specks in the shadow Tom Wentworth cast, so it wasn’t surprising that they wouldn’t be uppermost on his mind for the last thirteen years.

Cutty opened his eyes and looked at the clock on his nightstand.

It was just after 5 a.m.

He doubted he would be able to sleep anymore but he didn’t want to get up, either, so he cupped his hands under his head and stared at the ceiling.

He still couldn’t believe that Kira Wentworth had shown up.

Marla’s sister.

He’d only seen her once before. Actually, he’d only met her mother and father one time, too. But while Tom Wentworth’s face was one Cutty would never forget, he had barely glanced at Kira before her adoptive father had ordered her to her room that night thirteen years ago. So there was no way Cutty had recognized her. If he had he might not have been so willing to let her come into his home. Her or anyone connected to Tom Wentworth.

Tom Wentworth.

Yeah, meeting him just once had been enough. More than enough, Cutty thought.

Marla’s father hadn’t wanted Marla to date in high school so she’d only seen Cutty on the sly. They’d made arrangements through friends; they’d met at the movies or the shopping mall; they’d seen each other at school functions. And always they’d had to keep an eye out for anyone who might report back to the controlling father, who ran his household with an iron fist.

But six months into dating, Marla had realized she was pregnant.

Cutty didn’t think he’d ever seen anyone as afraid of anything as she’d been to tell her father.

Two seventeen-year-olds facing a nearly three-hundred-pound mountain of mean—the memory was still fresh in Cutty’s mind.

To say it had been an ugly scene was an understatement. Tom Wentworth hadn’t even wanted Cutty in the house. He’d hit the ceiling at just the sight of a boy there with his daughter. But Marla had insisted that they all needed to talk. Then she’d told her father what they’d come to tell him.

And all hell had broken loose.

Cutty still couldn’t believe the way Tom Wentworth had exploded. It was as if a bomb had gone off in that living room. He’d screamed that Marla was a whore. A tramp. A good-for-nothing slut. And worse.

There hadn’t been much Cutty could do during the tirade. Nothing much anyone could do but sit under the rain of hurtful, hateful words. But when Tom Wentworth had begun to demand that Marla have an abortion, Cutty had stood up to him. He’d told Tom Wentworth that Marla didn’t want to have an abortion.

And Tom Wentworth had nearly beaten him to a pulp.

A few good punches of his own had saved Cutty, but after that he’d been afraid to leave Marla there alone with her enraged bull of a father. So Cutty had taken Marla with him and left, not having any idea what he was going to do with her.

And a baby.

The sun began to make its rosy entrance through Cutty’s bedroom curtains, and for a while he watched it, trying not to relive those early emotions that could still creep up on him every now and then. He’d been just a kid himself. A scared kid. With no one close by to turn to. He’d felt responsible. Overwhelmed. Terrified. He hadn’t known what the hell he was going to do….

Lying there wasn’t getting him anywhere, he decided suddenly and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He sat up on the edge, gripping the mattress and let his head drop forward.

Tom Wentworth had washed his hands of Marla—that’s what he’d told her when she’d tried to call him the next day in hopes that he might have cooled off. She was on her own. He didn’t care what happened to her.

Her adoptive mother had packed some of her clothes and sneaked them out to her because her father had said she wasn’t even entitled to those.

And that had been that.

At least for a couple of years until Marla had gone behind Cutty’s back. But that had been that in terms of Cutty and the Wentworths.

Until now.

Now when Kira Wentworth had shown up on his doorstep.

He really had thought she was the journalism student when he’d first caught sight of her coming up his porch steps. The journalism student had already interviewed his friend Ad, and Ad had told him she was slightly older than the average college student. That she was thin. Pretty. Blond.

Kira Wentworth fit that description. Although the minute he’d laid eyes on her he’d thought that he wouldn’t say she was merely pretty. Kira Wentworth was beautiful. And her hair wasn’t just blond. It was the color of honey shot through with sunlight. Plus she had skin like alabaster. And the softest mouth he’d ever seen. And a small, streamlined nose. And those eyes! They were the blue of a summer sky on a cloudless day. Not to mention that for a petite woman she had a body that wouldn’t quit….

So, okay, he couldn’t deny that that first sight of her had stirred things inside him that hadn’t been stirred for a long, long time. But how confusing was it that the first person he’d been attracted to, since he seemed to have gotten his head together again after Marla’s and Anthony’s deaths, was a Wentworth?

Incredibly confusing, that’s how confusing it was.

Rationally, Cutty knew there was no reason to hold a grudge against Kira Wentworth. But that had been his reaction when she’d told him who she was. In spite of his initial attraction to her. He’d been tempted to kick her out of his house. What had gone through his mind was that he didn’t want any Wentworth anywhere near him because with any Wentworth came the potential for contact with Tom Wentworth. Or the effects of having been raised by him.

But Cutty hadn’t wanted to be a hard-ass, so he’d tried to curb the feelings.

And apparently he’d been pretty successful, since only a few minutes later his heart had gone out to Kira when he’d told her about Marla and Anthony and witnessed the blow that struck.

He’d been so successful at curbing his negative feelings that he’d even been tempted to comfort her with a hug.

Well, more than a hug. What he’d really been inclined to do was take her in his arms, learn what it would feel like to have her head pressed to his chest, her body against his….

But she’s a Wentworth, he’d reminded himself to chase away that urge.

Or at least to resist it. The urge hadn’t exactly gone away, he just hadn’t acted on it.

In fact, he’d still been struggling with it when she’d offered to come in and care for the twins. And him.

He hadn’t expected that and once more his emotions had taken a swing toward the negative. He’d instantly imagined another Wentworth in his house. He’d flashed on the way things had been. On the way they could be again.

Cutty closed his eyes and shook his head as if that would get rid of the thoughts that he felt guilty for having had the night before and again now. Thoughts of Marla. Of life with Marla.

But guilty or not, the bottom line had been he really hadn’t been thrilled with the prospect of Kira stepping in for Betty.

After all, she’d been raised by the same man Marla had. And there she’d been, with the ink barely dry on her Ph.D. as a clue to the likelihood that she was an overachiever, not a hair out of place, not a wrinkle in her clothes, her makeup flawless, her posture perfect, and Cutty hadn’t had a doubt she was cut from the same cloth Marla was.

So no, he hadn’t wanted Kira’s help.

Only she’d made him feel like a heel for denying, not only the help she was offering, but for denying her the chance to meet the twins. To get to know them. To be a part of their lives.

They were her nieces, after all, and Cutty had known that if Marla had been there she would have welcomed Kira with open arms—both for herself and for the girls. He’d known that Marla would have wanted her younger sister to know her daughters.

So he’d caved.

Cutty opened his eyes and sighed, disgusted with himself. Just when he’d thought his life was finally settling down, here he was in a muddle of conflicting thoughts, conflicting feelings again. And for about the tenth time, he asked himself if he’d really accepted her help as temporary nanny and housekeeper because it was what Marla would have wanted, or if he’d had some kind of attraction to her. In spite of himself.

He hoped he’d only accepted her help because it was what Marla would have wanted.

Sure he’d told Ad a couple of weeks ago that he thought he was finally ready to get back into the swing of things again. But slowly. Cautiously. With great care and consideration given to exactly who—and what—he let into his life again.

And a pair of blue eyes—no matter how incredible a blue they were—didn’t change that.

He grabbed his cane from where it rested against the nightstand and got to his feet.

Kira would do the same job Betty did, and he would make sure his relationship with her was no different than the relationship he had with Betty—purely friendly.

And that was all there was to it.

Because while he might have finally made it over the hump of grief and been ready to restart his life, it wouldn’t be with Kira Wentworth.

What he was ready for was an ordinary, everyday woman who took things in stride, who knew when to put on the full-court press and when not to, who knew the value of people over the value of appearances, who stopped long enough to smell the flowers.

And he didn’t think for a minute that Dr. Overachiever Microbiologist Kira Wentworth was that woman.

After a restless night, Kira was awake before her alarm went off. The moment she remembered where she was and what she was slated to do today, she was too antsy to linger in bed. She got up and went into the bathroom for a quick shower.

The sun was just dawning when she came out of the bathroom and stood in front of the armoire to survey the clothes she’d brought with her. She didn’t have the slightest idea what was involved in taking care of eighteen-month-old babies, which meant she wasn’t sure what to wear. But she was sure that she wanted it to be just right.

Not that she thought her nieces would even notice what she had on, but she so desperately wanted them to like her that every detail of this first meeting seemed important.

Maybe something bright, she thought, taking out a red silk shirt.

Or was that too bright? Would it scare them?

Maybe.

She replaced the shirt in the armoire and continued the search.

Definitely not the black high-necked blouse, she decided when that was the next thing that caught her eye. Black was too austere. It might send the message that she wasn’t accessible and the last thing she wanted was for her nieces to see her as standoffish.

And white might make her look too washed out, so she decided against the white rayon cap shirt, too.

Kira was tempted to wear the flowered sundress with the full skirt but she wasn’t sure if that was practical. Although she did give it a second look when it also occurred to her that this was essentially her first day on a new job and making a good impression was probably not a bad idea.

But the impression she was thinking of making with the dress was on Cutty and the moment she realized that was what was dancing on the edges of her mind she shied away from the sundress for sure.

She wasn’t in Northbridge to impress Cutty. Her goal was connecting with the babies—only with the babies—and she wouldn’t let herself be distracted from that. Not even by a pair of deep, dark green eyes that had longer, thicker lashes than any man should be entitled to.

No, she wasn’t even going to think about him. Wasn’t that what she’d told herself the night before when she’d had so much trouble getting to sleep because every time she’d closed her eyes he was there, in her thoughts? There was one reason and only one reason she’d come to Montana and that was to try to have what remained of her family in her life again. And what remained of her family were the twins. Cutty was merely incidental. To her at least. He was just the person she had to go through to get to her nieces.

So what was she going to wear? she asked herself.

She forced herself to focus on the clothes in the armoire. To concentrate.

What about the linen slacks and the short-sleeved yellow silk blouse with the banded collar?

Comfortable but not sloppy. A little color but not too much. Sort of casual—because Cutty had made that odd comment about how he liked things casual—whatever that meant. So, okay, the linen slacks and the yellow blouse it was, she decided.

The slacks that made her rear end look good.

Not that that was a factor in her choosing them, she swore to herself. It was just a coincidence.

She took the pants and the shirt to the bed and laid them out before she turned to the small dressing table to do her hair and makeup.

Although she would ordinarily have worn her hair loose on the first day of a new job, for this particular job she thought it should probably be kept under control. That meant pulling it away from her face. A French knot seemed too stiff and formal, but she thought that a ponytail might be just the ticket. So she brushed her hair, pulling it tightly back and tying a pale yellow scarf around it to keep it there.

Once she was finished with her hair she applied a little blush, mascara and lipstick. Then she returned to the bed to put on the clothes she’d chosen before pulling on trouser socks and loafers, and concluding that she was ready to face the day and this new undertaking.