The Trouble With Twins. Jo Leigh
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Temporary friends, at that. Which was fine. Except that she didn’t know if she could be friends with him, even for one night. Every time she saw him her body shifted into sex mode. It was getting rather tiresome.
“Sit with me,” he said, his voice husky, as if he’d been asleep. “Talk to me.”
“About?”
“Anything. Your family. This mother you’re looking for.”
“Ah, a light topic.”
“It brought you a long way. It sounded like it was important to you.”
She had to give him that. It was important. She pulled out a chair and sat while he foraged in the fridge. He ended up with several packages of cold cuts, mustard, cheese, a loaf of bread and a soda.
“So, talk,” he said as he sat across from her and began to prepare his sandwich.
She wasn’t quite sure where to start. “I called my brother Garrett to tell him what I found. He was pretty upset.”
“Aren’t you?”
She nodded. “But not as much as Garrett. He’s determined to get to the bottom of this little mystery. You have to admit, it’s unusual. To leave a child on a doorstep is one thing. To leave four kids is something else entirely.”
“Why? It actually makes more sense to me. Your parents might have been able to handle one. But four? That’s a lot of diapers and bottles.”
“Yes, you’re right. But… You see, two months ago, our mother made contact for the first time. Not directly, though. Through a friend. Megan Maitland. You’ve probably heard of Maitland Maternity in Austin?”
Gray nodded. “The baby on the doorstep thing, right?”
“And not the first baby. That’s where we were left.”
He put a slice of roast beef on his plate and leaned forward. “And your mother got in touch with you now?”
“She sent some items to Megan. Hand-knitted sweaters for me, Michael and Lana, and an old teddy bear for Garrett. She sent a note, too.”
“What did it say?”
Shelby closed her eyes and remembered sitting in Megan’s study, hearing her mother’s words. “‘Dear Mrs. Megan Maitland,’” she began, recalling every word by heart. “‘Thank you for finding my babies a good and loving home all those years ago—I knew you would. The teddy bear was Garrett’s, and these three baby sweaters have the triplets’ names embroidered on them. The only fancywork I ever had time to do. My only wish is for the children to know I loved them. Yours in gratitude.’”
She opened her eyes and gave Gray a small smile. “You can see where it would pique one’s curiosity.”
“No kidding. So tell me again, how did you end up here?”
“My brother Garrett did some research on triplets born in Texas the same year we were abandoned. They weren’t so common then. Not like today with all the fertility drugs. He found five sets of fraternal triplets that could have been us. We decided to look them up, so Garrett and I split up the list.”
“What about Michael and, who is it, Lana?”
She nodded. “Lana just got married, and she has a little one to look after. Michael wasn’t very interested at first, not until he got married last month—”
“Boy, this has been some year for you guys.”
“You have no idea.”
“So who’s left? On the list, I mean.”
“One couple, by the name of Larrimore. We know the husband’s dead, but we have no idea how to contact his wife.”
“So you think she’s the one?”
“I don’t know anymore. Someone sent the sweaters and the bear to Megan. If it was her, she’s certainly managed to keep her identity a secret.”
“And if it’s not her?”
“There’s really nowhere else to look. We could have been born out of state, but where on earth would we begin to search?”
“Are you okay with that?”
“I’ll have to be, won’t I?”
He frowned. “I guess that answers my question.”
“I’m sorry. It’s just a lot to get used to, that’s all. I loved my parents very much. They took us in heart and soul, and we never felt ‘less than,’ ever. But there is still a part of me that wonders. I’d like to know the answers, but it won’t kill me not to know. I’ve been very lucky all my life.”
His gaze darted to her waist, then quickly to his sandwich.
“I know. It doesn’t seem very lucky when you look on the outside. But I was. I’ve had so much joy and so much satisfaction in my life. Only—”
“Only?”
“Nothing. It doesn’t matter.”
“Sure it does. Come on. Spill.”
“Nothing every other single woman my age hasn’t felt,” she said, trying to make things light. “I’d like to find someone. Get married. Have children.”
“Ah, that.”
“Yes. That.”
“It’ll happen for you, Shelby. I know it will.”
She felt her face flush, knowing he was just saying the words, not meaning them. “It’s time for me to hit the sack.” She stood up and got her water glass. “Enjoy your sandwich.”
“Shelby?”
“Hmm?”
He shook his head. “Nothing. Sleep well. I’ll see you in the morning.”
She left him in the kitchen and went to the guest room at the back of the house. It was cozy and nice, with a little TV set and a great selection of books and magazines, as well as a very comfortable bed and an attached bath.
She wasn’t sorry she’d come back. Not really. But she did wonder if she’d come for the right reasons. Was it really to help with the children? Or did some part of her think there might be the possibility of a tango or two with Gray?
If she harbored even the slightest hope, she’d better get the heck out of here as soon as possible. No way anything was going to happen. No possible way.
Daydreaming was one thing. False hope was something else. Something dangerous. If she wasn’t careful, she was going to get burned again. And she already had too many scars.
THE NEXT MORNING, she found Gray in the living room, on the floor with Scout and Jem. The three of them were digging through a huge box of Lincoln Logs as if searching for buried treasure.
“Having fun?”
Gray raised his gaze, though not his head. “My car keys.”
“Ah. Well, they’ll turn up.”
“Right.”
She grinned and left them to it. She’d decided to make French toast for breakfast. If they had syrup, that is. If not, she’d wing it. Surprisingly, she’d slept well, and woken happy despite yesterday. Or maybe because of it.
The syrup was in the cupboard, and she went about preparing the meal. As she put the first slices of bread in the frying pan, she realized she was humming. It was as if she was playing house, just like when she was a kid. Only this time, the playhouse was a ranch, the kids were real, and the daddy made her break out in a cold sweat.
Just so long as she remembered it was make-believe, everything would be fine. Besides, she wouldn’t be here long enough to get into serious trouble.
She