For The Twins' Sake. Melissa Senate

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СКАЧАТЬ Sara asked, her gaze moving from the baby to Noah as she gently touched her wispy light brown curls, her cheek, her arm, her little fingers. “I just can’t believe this is real.”

      Me either. He stared at his daughter—her daughter—and the jab in his chest intensified.

      “You can take her into the cabin,” he said. “She’s eaten recently and been changed, so she’s all set.”

      Now she stared at him, as if shocked he knew anything about Annabel’s feeding and diaper-changing schedule.

      “My son, her twin brother, is in the SUV,” Sara said. “Could you take him out for me? I can’t bear to let go of my daughter.”

       My daughter. My daughter. My daughter.

      Noah’s head was swimming, and his knees were wobbly. He nodded and lurched toward the Range Rover, mostly to have something to brace his fall if his legs did give out.

      He pulled open the door, and there was Annabel’s honest-to-goodness twin in green-and-white-striped pajamas. They looked so much alike—the wispy light brown curls. The slate-blue eyes. The nose. The expression. It was all Sara.

      He took out the car seat and brought it around to where Sara stood. He lifted up the seat to Annabel’s level. The baby that had been in his arms until five minutes ago. “Annabel, you’re about to meet your twin brother.”

      Sara’s mouth dropped open. “Annabel? That’s what you named her?”

      He nodded. It was Sara’s middle name.

      Tears filled her eyes, and she blinked hard.

      “This is Chance,” she said. “Chance, meet Noah Dawson. I’ve known him a long time.”

      A very long time. “Very nice to meet you, Chance.” He gently touched a hand to the downy little head with its soft brown wisps.

      “And Chance, this is Annabel, your twin sister,” Sara added. “You’re back together where you belong.”

      Oh hell. He was about to break down himself.

      “I want to hear everything,” she said, her pale brown eyes imploring. “From the moment you realized she was outside on your porch to the moment I drove up. I need to know about her life these past seven weeks. But first I just need some time alone with her. To let this sink in.” She cuddled Annabel against her, her gaze going from her daughter to Noah and back again.

      All these weeks that Annabel had been right here, with him, her mother had believed that her baby girl was dead. He had to stop thinking about himself and focus on that—what Sara had been through.

      And how twin babies had almost been separated forever.

      “I understand,” he said, the sturdy weight of the car seat in his right hand making him both happy and miserable. “I’ll help you inside with the twins, and you can have the place to yourself for however long you need. Text me when you’re ready and I’ll come fill you in.”

      She let out a breath. “Thank you, Noah. You can’t imagine.” She shook her head, her tear-streaked face his undoing as much as the situation.

      He couldn’t imagine.

      They started walking to the cabin, which had once been her home when her father had been foreman. She stopped for a moment, staring up at the newly renovated two-story log house with the hunter green covered porch and flower boxes his sister had insisted on putting everywhere. Sara didn’t say anything about the place, how it had changed, but she had much bigger things on her mind than the ranch.

      He opened the door, then stepped aside so she could enter with Annabel. He followed her in, wanting to rip his daughter from her arms. He had to stop walking for a second; the pain in his chest was that severe, and dammit, he was worried he’d start bawling like a little kid any second.

      He led her into the living room and set Chance’s carrier on the floor beside the sofa. Sara dropped down on the sofa, crying, laughing, staring at the baby girl in her arms.

      “Her baby bag is on the stroller by the door if you need anything,” he managed to say. “Plus, there’s a big basket of baby stuff on the side of the coffee table.”

      She couldn’t take her eyes off Annabel. She nodded as if barely able to hear him.

      “Take as long as you want,” he said. “Text me when you’re ready for me to come back and we’ll talk.” He jotted his cell number down and left it on the coffee table.

      She nodded, not taking her eyes off her daughter.

      He wanted to grab Annabel away from her and run. Or just stay here, not letting the baby girl out of his sight.

      Because no matter how many times he told himself she wasn’t his daughter, he couldn’t make himself believe it.

      He forced himself out the door, his heart staying behind.

       Chapter Two

      Sara couldn’t stop staring at the tiny baby nestled against her chest. Couldn’t stop touching her, couldn’t stop telling her she loved her, that she was so sorry she hadn’t been there the past seven weeks, that nothing would ever come between them again.

      On the drive over to the ranch from the lawyer’s office, she’d kept thinking, Please let my daughter be alive. Please let her be there. Please, please, please. Her prayers answered, Sara’s relief, her pure joy at being reunited with her baby girl, trounced her anger—murderous rage, really, at what had been done to the infant, done to Sara. That monster took so much from us. He’s not getting a second more of any piece of me. Not my thoughts or my emotions. Nothing. He’s gone.

      “We have so much to catch up on,” Sara whispered, in awe of everything about Annabel. Her ten fingers and toes. Her little nose and chin. The way her chest rose and fell in her sea-foam-green-and-white pajamas with little ducklings across the front. That she was really, truly here.

      The baby’s eyes were drooping, and Sara would be happy to sit here forever with Annabel napping in her arms. She glanced down at Chance, who was already asleep in his carrier. The siblings, twins, back together. She took in a deep, satisfying breath. Seven weeks felt like so much to miss out on, but she knew as time went on, she’d be grateful it had barely been two months.

      She stood up, gently rocking Annabel, and walked over to the stone fireplace that dominated one wall of the living room, photos on the mantel. She’d lived in this house from the time she was born until she was sixteen, had sat on the sofa facing that fireplace night after night with her father after her mother passed away when she was nine. Talks, homework, reading, her dad’s delicious sub sandwiches as they watched a series they could enjoy together. Her entire life was up in the air right now, but being here in this cabin made her feel safe.

      “I grew up here,” she whispered to Annabel. “Your grandma lived here. And your grandfather loved this cabin. He was the foreman here.” Now Noah was.

      She froze, biting her lip as Noah’s words came back to her. СКАЧАТЬ