Soon To Be Brides: The Marrying Macallister / That Blackhawk Bride. Barbara McCauley

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СКАЧАТЬ of the crib, or across the soft sheet on the tiny mattress, or perhaps just gazing into the crib and envisioning Miss M. sleeping peacefully there, where she belonged, with her mother watching over her.

      He looked quickly in both directions to be certain that no one had seen him standing there like an idiot who was attempting to carry on a conversation with a closed door before trudging back to his room.

      Everyone in the group was fifteen minutes early arriving in the lobby, but no one settled onto the comfortable-looking chairs and sofas, not having the patience to sit still.

      “What time is it?” Marsha said to Bud.

      “One minute later than when you last asked me,” he said, smiling. “Chill, pretty wife, or you’re going to pass out cold on your nose.”

      “Oh, right,” Marsha said, frowning at him. “Like you’re Mr. Cool, huh? Might I mention that you forgot to tie your shoelaces?”

      “Well, cripe,” Bud said, looking down at his feet.

      Matt whopped Bud on the back as he bent over to tend to his laces.

      “Little shook up, Daddy?” Matt said. “Mmm. Maybe we should check your blood pressure, Doctor. You’re in a high-stress mode.”

      “Can it, MacAllister,” Bud said, straightening and glaring at Matt. “Caitlin, do something about this man.”

      “Me? What man?” she said, laughing. “I’m such a wreck I’m having trouble remembering my own name.”

      “The vans are here,” a woman said, more in the form of a squeal.

      “So they are,” Elizabeth agreed, joining the group. “Is everyone ready? Let me count noses.” She did a quick perusal of the gathered people. “Right on the money. Let’s go meet some new baby daughters.”

      The fifteen-minute ride to the orphanage was a total blur to Caitlin until they suddenly turned onto a narrow street lined with small, shabby houses made of a variety of nonmatching material. At the end of the street a tall, seven-story building could be partially seen.

      “That’s the orphanage,” Elizabeth said. “It’s big, as you can see, and filled to the brim with kids. There are infant floors, where the little ones sleep two and three to a crib at times, toddler floors, then older children have several floors where they sleep dorm-fashion until they are fostered out to work in the fields in rural areas.

      “There is no heat in that building. They have to layer the kids in lots of clothes in the winter to keep them warm. A portion of the fees you paid for this trip will go directly to the orphanage for food, clothes, medical supplies, what have you.

      “The vast majority of the children are girls, as you know. The few boys that are brought here have some kind of medical problem, or perhaps a birthmark that is too noticeable, or they might have been the second boy in the family, breaking the law about only being allowed to have one child, and there isn’t a thing wrong with them. However, it’s rare for boys to be in the orphanages.

      “And,” Elizabeth said as the vans drove around a circle driveway. “Here—” the vans stopped “—we are.”

      Matt reached over and squeezed one of Caitlin’s hands, finding it ice cold.

      “Calm down,” he whispered to her. “If you touch Miss M. with hands that cold she’ll have a screamer of a fit.”

      Caitlin nodded jerkily.

      A beaming Dr. Yang greeted the group as they entered the building. He was a slightly built man in his mid-thirties with handsome features and dark, almond-shaped eyes that seemed to be actually sparkling.

      “I feel as though I know you,” he said, his English having only a trace of an accent, “because I’ve read all of your dossiers. Welcome to China. Welcome to Nanjing. Welcome to the humble place where your daughters are waiting to meet you. Our elevator is very small, so I’ll ask that you go up to the third floor four at a time, please.

      “We will go into a living room, then I’ll tell the head of the orphanage that you are here and that the caregivers should bring the babies to where you are. My paperwork is upstairs that documents the matches.” He laughed. “Same as always, Elizabeth. You bring me people who are too nervous to speak.”

      “Never fails,” she said, smiling.

      “But soon they’ll be crying those happy tears we always see,” Dr. Yang said.

      “They’ve been practicing those already. Okay, folksies. Here we go.”

      The living room Dr. Yang had spoken of was quite large, but the furniture and carpeting was very faded and worn. The paint on the walls was a color somewhere between gray and yellow and was peeling in numerous spots. There was a dusty, plastic red rose in a bud vase on a shabby end table in one corner. No pictures adorned the walls.

      Caitlin, Matt, Marsha and Bud settled onto a threadbare sofa. Bud wrapped his arm around Marsha’s shoulders and she sat as close as possible to him. Matt fought the urge to do the same to Caitlin as she sat next to him, her hands clutched so tightly in her lap the knuckles were turning white.

      Elizabeth and Dr. Yang left the room and a heavy silence fell as the minutes ticked slowly by. Then everyone stiffened as the pair reappeared followed by caregivers in white uniforms, some holding one baby, others with two.

      Dr. Yang consulted a sheet of paper he was holding, then placed his hand on the shoulder of one of the caregivers.

      “Sally and Fred Roberts,” he said.

      And so it began, the uniting of parents and their daughters, with happy tears flowing freely. Marsha and Ben were called and their Grace gurgled and smiled when Marsha lifted her from the caregiver’s arms and held her close, laughing and crying at the same time.

      “That’s my goddaughter. Awesome. You have to be next,” Matt whispered to Caitlin, “because you’re the only one left. Are you ready?”

      “Oh, I am so ready,” Caitlin said, staring at the empty doorway. “Why isn’t there another caregiver standing there. Where’s Miss M.? I don’t understand why—oh…my…God. Matt, look.”

      Matt’s eyes widened as a caregiver stepped into the living room, a baby tucked in the crook of each arm. Without realizing he was doing it, he grabbed Caitlin’s hand and got to his feet, drawing her up next to him.

      “Caitlin Cunningham,” Dr. Yang said, smiling. “Last, but certainly not least.”

      “I…” Caitlin said, making no attempt to free her hand from Matt’s as she walked toward the caregiver on trembling legs. “There are two… The pictures I got of Miss M. were of two babies, not just two photographs of the same baby. Dear heaven, they’re identical twins. Twins? I’m going to be the mother of twins? Did I know this? I didn’t know this. Oh, they’re so beautiful, so… Twins?”

      Dr. Yang frowned and looked at the sheet of paper. “Yes, it says here that you have been matched with identical twin girls of six months of age. Is there a problem?”

      “Let’s just all stay calm,” Elizabeth said quickly. “Caitlin, you and Matt take the babies to the sofa СКАЧАТЬ