A Bride In Waiting. Sally Carleen
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have to wear it for long, just long enough to eat some soup and get out of there.
As she turned to go, she saw hanging on the door a brightly patterned silk robe of red swirled with green and purple. She couldn’t resist smiling. Even from what little she knew of Analise, this robe seemed perfect for her. She touched the soft fabric, letting it slide through her fingers, and felt a curious connection with the missing Analise.
Lucas had promised that she could meet his fiancée if she did this favor for him, and they’d gone way beyond “favor” at this point. However, she was no longer sure she wanted to meet her look-alike. She was intimidated by everything to do with this woman she’d never met, this woman who might be her sister.
She looked at herself again in the mirror. There were differences, but she looked more like Analise than Analise looked like Clare and Ralph. Ralph had dark brown, almost black, hair and hazel eyes, and Clare had blond hair, blue eyes and a small, uptilted nose. No red hair and green eyes or strong, straight nose.
Analise could very well be adopted, too.
Analise could very well be her twin.
Sara straightened her shoulders. Whatever the cost, she had to meet Analise, had to know if they were related.
She left the bathroom, closing the door behind her, and went to sit on the bed.
“Omigosh!” She shot up, then reached behind her and pushed experimentally. “It’s a water bed!”
“Analise, will you stop being silly and sit down,” Clare demanded.
Sara lowered herself uneasily onto the unreliable surface, and Clare handed her the tray.
Sara took a tentative taste of the soup. “It’s wonderful!”
“Good,” Clare approved. “As soon as you finish eating, you take a nap. I’ll come wake you in plenty of time to get ready for the rehearsal dinner.”
“I’ll stay with her for a while longer,” Lucas said, coming to sit on the side of the bed.
Clare leaned over and brushed the wisps of hair back from Analise’s face then kissed her forehead. Sara closed her eyes and tried not to enjoy the maternal gesture that belonged to Analise, not to her. But again, as at the wedding rehearsal, it was hard to keep in mind that this was all make-believe.
“Very well, Lucas,” Clare said. “You can stay with her, but don’t keep her awake.”
The older woman bustled to the door, and Sara realized for the first time that Analise’s parents seemed to have no problem with leaving her alone in her room with Lucas. Did that mean they knew and approved of Lucas and Analise...well, of their doing things married people did?
Lucas and Analise were engaged, and in this day and age, that sort of thing was accepted. There was no reason for her to feel that swift surge of...what? Pain? Envy?
Whatever it was, she refused to acknowledge or indulge it.
Clare paused at the door, looked back and sighed. “This will probably be the last time I get to take care of you,” she said wistfully. “I don’t suppose you want me to tuck Sara in with you this one last time?”
Sara’s fingers clutched the tray in her lap convulsively. She heard Lucas gasp. What on earth was Analise’s mother saying?
“Oh, don’t give me that look. I know you’re all grown-up and too old for dolls, but I saw you cuddling Sara and talking to her just last week. Lucas, don’t you dare make fun of Analise. Of course she’ll want to take that old doll with her when you get married. She’s an only child, and that doll’s been her pretend sister since she was just a little thing.”
Chapter Four
The door closed behind Clare, and Lucas turned to Sara. Her gaze was still riveted on the door and she looked as confused as he felt.
“What’s going on here?” he asked. “Who are you? Why does Analise have a doll with your name and you have a doll with her name?”
She shook her head slowly. As if in a daze, she stood and set the lap tray on the nightstand. Managing somehow to look graceful and regal even in that ridiculous robe, she crossed the room and picked up Analise’s picture again.
“Is Analise adopted?” she asked.
“No, of course not. Well, I don’t think so.” He shifted from one foot to the other. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “It’s never come up.”
“She doesn’t look like either Clare or Ralph.”
“I hadn’t thought about it, but you’re right. She doesn’t.”
Sara set the picture back on the shelf and shifted her gaze to him, her eyes alight with sudden hope. “I need to find out if it’s possible she’s my twin.”
“Your twin?” He scowled. From the time this woman had kneed him in the groin, crushed his shin and held him at bay with pepper spray, this situation had become more and more bizarre. “Analise is an only child. She doesn’t have any sisters, certainly not a twin.”
Sara darted back to sit beside him, her cheeks flushed with becoming color, and he could feel the charge of energy surrounding her. “But what if she’s not an only child? What if she was adopted? What if she has a twin sister?”
Sara’s animation made her more delectable than ever. He wanted to agree with her just to please her, to let her maintain that glow. But he couldn’t. She was getting a little far-out.
“Are you saying your mother might have had twins and given up your sister for adoption? Sara, you’re not making sense.”
“Yes, I am. I was adopted.” Her voice softened, sadness spreading a cloud over her enthusiasm. “I just found out a year ago when my mother had kidney failure and I offered to donate a kidney. The tests showed I couldn’t be her daughter, and she finally admitted the truth to me. So maybe I had a twin sister, and we were both adopted.”
Adopted That explained a few things, like her response to Clare’s kindness and her need to prove Analise was her sister. With the only mother she’d ever known dead and not her biological mother after all, Sara must feel very alone in the world. She was probably desperate to find a family. Nevertheless, he had to shatter her ill-founded hopes about Analise. “Twins adopted by different people? That’s impossible.”
“Why is it impossible? Analise and I look so much alike her own mother couldn’t tell the difference. And look at the other evidence. Even twins separated at birth always seem to have some sort of a connection. I studied about it in school. They wear the same kind of clothes, marry people with the same names, go into the same professions.”
“But you and Analise dress completely differently.” This whole thing was so crazy, he didn’t dare tell Sara that Analise, unable to find employment in her chosen field in Briar Creek and forbidden by her parents to move to a larger city, did volunteer work at the library.
“We do dress differently, that’s true. But she wanted to be an entomologist, and so did I. I studied library science only because my mother insisted.” She rose and moved around the room again. “How do you explain the coincidence of the dolls? And look at all the music boxes Analise has.” She picked up one he’d given Analise for her birthday a couple of years ago, a crystal unicorn on a base of mirrors. Carefully she turned it over, wound the key and listened to the strains of “Born Free” as they tinkled into the room.
“What about the music boxes?” he asked.
“I’ve always loved them. Every time we’d go into a store, I’d search for the music boxes, then I’d choose one and wind it up and listen until my mother found me.” She looked at him, her chin tilted defiantly. “I’ve lived my whole life with lies. Now I’m going to find the truth.”
“In Briar Creek? Why here? Did your mother tell you that your birth mother