Chapter 8
Terror was an ice-cold feeling that made him shiver more than the freakishly chilly wind. Twins. God, twins. Just like he'd been. The cruel joke of the name he'd inherited from his father still twisted in his gut like a blade. And the old man's words echoed like a curse. About how he'd been the stronger, and how he must always do whatever he must to survive.
Hell, he knew, with the rational part of his mind, that a child in the womb couldn't cause premeditated harm. Couldn't even harbor an ill thought. But it dug at him, ate at him. Always had.
And now he was the father, and dammit, there were two babies. Twins. He was scared to death. What if something happened to one of them? What if only one survived?
Standing stock-still in the cold, damp night, outside the boarding house. There were white candle bulbs burning in every window and a huge festive wreath on the front door. He blinked at the unfamiliar burning sensation in his eyes, the odd tightening of his throat, the hitch in his breathing.
He still didn't know who the hell had sent the photograph. It suddenly seemed like the least important thing in the world. What he did know was that he had to stay here until his children were born. And he had to do everything in his power to make sure they were both strong and healthy. Protected and safe. Cared for, provided for. And those jobs didn't belong solely to Maya Brand. They belonged to him. Because he was?their father. The idea made him stand a little straighter, square his shoulders, lift his chin. All of a sudden he felt?omnipotent
"Going to stand outside all night or go on in?" a small voice said from behind him.
Caleb turned to see the youngest Brand sister standing there staring up at him. Silvery Selene, with her huge mystical silver-blue eyes and her elfin features. She wore a red hood with a scarf attached and a black wool coat.
"I'm going in," he said. "You?"
She nodded at him. "Me too. I want to talk to you."
He shrugged and led the way up the front steps and onto the glass enclosed porch that stretched the entire breadth of the house. On the large mat in front of the door he heeled off his boots, then shrugged out of his coat and hung it on a nearby hook. Selene did likewise and looked around.
"This is nice, what Ida-May's done out here," she observed.
"It's cozy." Despite the early darkness and chilly temperature, it was pleasant. And private. Moonlight spilled down over the quiet little town, and he thought it had an almost enchantingly picturesque appeal. He went to the small round table in the corner, pulled out a chair. "Is this good for our?talk?"
"It's fine. At least it's warm in here. It never gets this cold for this long here. It's bizarre. We had record rainfall this summer. I could never have imagined what winter would bring." She came to where he was, sat down in the chair he held.
Caleb took his own seat across from her. "So," he said.
She drew a breath, licked her lips. "I'm not sure how to begin."
"Well, maybe I can help. You're about to ask me what my intentions are toward your sister."
She lowered her gaze. "That's?not what I came for?but since you brought it up?are you at least going to stick around a while?"
"At least."
Her gaze rose slowly, locked with his. "I have a confession to make, Caleb. I?I'm the one who made you come back here."
That shocked him into silence faster than almost anything could have. Not only that this innocent-looking baby of the family would resort to sending photographs that could destroy his career in unmarked envelopes, but that she would then come to him to admit it.
"I think you would have come anyway. In fact, I'm almost sure of it, but I couldn't take the chance I might be wrong. It was wrong to make you come back, I know that?and yet?I'd do it again. I'm sorry, though, if it messed up your life."
He closed his eyes, drew a breath, then opened them slowly. "That photograph could have ruined me, Selene. You could have just called me, you know. Anything a bit more discreet than-"
"What photograph?"
He frowned. Huge silvery eyes blinked innocently at him. "What do you mean, 'what photograph?' The photograph that landed on my desk yesterday-the one of your sister, her belly out to here, with the word 'congratulations' scrawled across the back."
Her eyes grew even wider, if that was possible. "Caleb?I don't know anything about any photograph. I just?gosh, I mean, I didn't think it would manifest like that! I'm sorry."
Caleb frowned, because she made no sense. He gave his head a little shake, but that didn't help. "Selene, if you didn't send the photo, then what did you mean when you said that you were the one who made me come back here?"
She looked so guilty that he almost felt sorry for her. Chin lowering, she said, "I?performed a little?rite."
"A rite?"
"A?spell."
He blinked at her.
"Magic," she said. "You know. You burn some herbs, light some candles, chant some words?."
Light finally dawned. This was the tarot card sister, the New Age guru. The Aquarian of the family.
"You're not supposed to mess with people's free will," she went on quickly. "But I messed with yours. I just wanted to own up to it. I'll deal with the karma. It'll be worth it if?well?I mean?if things work out the way I'm hoping they will."
Caleb smiled. She seemed really upset about all of this. Her hands were fisted together and kneading on the table, and her teeth were worrying her lower lip every little while. He covered her hands with his. "You didn't mess with my free will, hon. If I had known about the babies?I'd have been here long before now."
"You would?"
"Of course I would. Why does that surprise you?"
She blinked and seemed thoughtful for a moment. "Well?I guess because you used a false name and everything? you know, when you came here before. I assumed that was a precaution you used anytime you went out catting around, you know, to keep the women from tracking you down if there are consequences."
He sat very still for a long moment. Then he said, "And is that what your sister thinks, too, Selene?"
She only shrugged. "I don't know what she thinks. But I think she needs you, Caleb. She's doing just fine at playing the fearless firstborn of Vidalia Brand, but deep down, she's scared to death. About carrying those kids, about delivering them, and even more about raising them afterward."
He nodded. "She should be. But to be honest, she doesn't seem too eager to let me be a part of any of it."
Selene's eyes speared him, deadly serious and intense, she said, "That's got nothing to do with you, Caleb. It's got to do with the past, and our father, and stuff that I don't even remember. I just know it's in her, you know? Like a deep sliver she hasn't been able to dig out." She shook her head slowly. "Maybe she thought it was all healed over, but this thing with you just jammed it in deeper and started it hurting all over again."
For a moment he thought he was going to learn something real, something meaningful, about the mother of his children. He knew the story of her father. She'd told him, and he'd heard about it again from the local gossips ever since he'd come back this time. But he didn't know how Maya felt about it-how she'd felt then, how she felt now.
And it didn't look like he would know any time soon, either. Selene bit her lip, shook her head. "That's for Maya to talk to you about, not me. Like I said, I don't even remember. But I do know this much. If Maya's unwilling to let you be a part of this, you're going to have to make her let you. You have every right to be involved in the birth of your own kids, Caleb, and you need to say so. Don't take no for an answer."
"She might hate me for it," he said softly.
Selene shook her head. "Maybe for a while. But she needs you. Trust me." Her hand touched his. "I know things." Drawing a breath, straightening, she gave a nod. "And know that whatever happens will be real and that it will come from the two of you. I'm not going to interfere again."
He lifted his brows. "What, no love potions?"
"You're teasing me, aren't you?"
"
No, Selene. I might, but there's something about you that makes me wonder."
She smiled, seeming to take that as a compliment. "Well, that's it. That's what I came here to tell you. Good night, Caleb."
"Night," he murmured. But he barely saw her leave. He was too busy wondering if there were secret wounds festering in Maya Brand's heart?and how he could possibly hope to get close enough to find out.
From his room that night he called Bobby, spoke to him briefly, only to learn that no further word had come in about Caleb's impending fatherhood. No threats, no demands, no one even hinting that they knew. So if Selene hadn't sent that photo, and Maya obviously hadn't, then the question remained?who had? One of the other sisters? Mel or Kara? Perhaps Vidalia Brand herself? He hoped so. Because if it wasn't one of them, then that meant someone else must know about all of this. And if someone else knew, they were holding the fuse to Caleb's personal political powder keg.
Her back ached. Her head ached. Her stretch marks itched. Her feet were swollen. Her bladder was about to burst, and, oh, hell, she had a leg cramp. "Ow, ow, ow, ow, OW!"
The cramp eased. The knotted muscles in her calf relaxed. She stopped yelling and managed to get through her morning routine without serious damage. The babies were kicking so hard it actually hurt now and then, and she was so big she had to use the long-handled back brush to wash her feet, even though she'd put a waterproof stool in the shower stall.
Ugh!
Finally she chose one of her colorful tent-sized outfits from the selection in her closet and pulled it on over her industrial-strength bra and super-support panties. A pretty kaftan and a pair of stretchy leggings. But she just didn't feel pretty in them.
She sat at her dressing table, brushing her hair, when there was a tap on her bedroom door.
"Come in," she called, not even looking up from her brushing.
The door opened, footsteps came in, falling too heavily to belong to any of the Brand women. And she glanced into the mirror to see Caleb, of all people, standing there with a tray in his hands.
"What in the world are you doing here?" she asked his reflection.
"Good morning, Maya. How are you feeling this morning, hm?"
She eyed the tray, not answering, because she was so sick and tired of answering that same question every single day a dozen times. "What are you doing here? What is this?"
"Breakfast in bed. Or?it was intended to be. Only, you're not in bed, so I guess I'm late."
Maya set the hairbrush down and turned slowly. "Who let you in?"
"Your mother. I brought enough fresh pastries for everyone, and Vidalia was kind enough to supply the coffee to go with them." He nodded at the cup on the tray. "Decaf for you, of course."
He carried the tray in, right to the chest at the foot of her bed, and set it down. "I found this great bakery in town this morning, just a stone's throw from the boarding house."
"Sunny's Place. I know it."
Picking up a platter heaped with doughnuts, Danishes and muffins, he brought it to where she sat and held it under her nose.
God, they smelled good.
Hell, he smelled better. There was a hint of something?not cologne, it was too subtle for that Maybe it was the soap he used. Sort of a wind and water scent. It tickled a deep part of her that hadn't been tickled in?well, in nine months, give or take a couple of weeks.
"Pretty low trick, bribing your way in here with pastries, don't you think? Why are you doing this, anyway?" she asked him suspiciously.
"Because I want to. Hey, you've been lugging those twins around for nine months now. I figure the least I can do is help you through the last couple of weeks."
"Don't say that!"
He blinked. "Don't say what? That I want to help you out?"
"No. That 'couple of weeks' part. If it's more than a couple of days, I'll die. My belly will explode, and I will just simply die." She sighed, grabbed a yummy-looking Danish and a napkin, took a heavenly bite and closed her eyes in ecstasy as she chewed. "Oh, this is sooo good."
"I know. I ate two myself." He smiled at her.
And he was so damned charming she couldn't help but smile back. But then she thought about what he'd said a moment ago, about helping her through the last couple of weeks, and she tilted her head. "So does that mean you plan to hang around town until the babies come?"
Licking his lips, he seemed to think very carefully about his words before he spoke. "Maya, I'd really like to. I've never been a father before. This is all?well, it's special to me. Scary as hell, totally out of line with my plans?but special. I'm?I'm not the kind of guy who can just walk away from something like this?and I know you probably don't believe that, but I think you will. If you give me a chance. Get to know me?just a little bit." He swallowed hard. "I'd really like you to agree with me on this, but I want you to know that I'm staying, even if you don't. I mean?I'm their father." He looked at her belly. "I'm their father."
The second time he said it, he got a shaky, crooked little smile on his face, and his voice cracked just the slightest bit. She couldn't argue with him when he looked like that. And he was right, she knew that. She'd been feeling guilty about her attitude toward him all night long. It wasn't his fault she didn't want a man in her life.
"I was crabby with you last night," she told him. "I get that way a lot lately. But it's not my normal attitude, you know."
"I know."
She nodded. "I will not exclude you from the babies' lives. I want to make that clear, Caleb. You're right. You are their father, and you can be just as involved with them as you want or need to be. I promise."
He smiled broadly and blew a sigh of relief. "I'm glad to hear it." Then he glanced down at her belly. "Still nervous as hell and reeling from all this?but glad."
The babies were kicking like crazy. She had a thought, bit her lower lip, and finally gave in to it. "Give me your hand," she said, setting her Danish down.
He did. She took his hand in hers and laid his palm on her belly, sliding it around to the spot where some little foot had been repeatedly thumping her. He met her eyes, his expectant, excited. It took a moment. But finally there was a succession of rapid and rather forceful kicks.
She never looked away from his eyes when it happened. And she was glad she hadn't because they widened; then his gaze slid down to where his hand rested, and she swore she saw moisture gather in his eyes. "My God. Oh my God," he whispered.
"You look like you're going to faint Caleb. It's okay. Babies are supposed to kick. It means they're healthy."
"Are you sure?"
She nodded.
Caleb laughed nervously, gave his head a shake, met her eyes again. "I?it's like it wasn't quite real until just then." Then he frowned. "Does it hurt when they do that?"
"Oh, they give me a good jab once in a while. Enough to make me suck in a breath, maybe, but nothing drastic."
He stared at her for a long moment as if a little awed by her. But then he shook himself and went back to the tray, brought her cup of coffee. "Better drink this while it's still warm."
"You didn't need to do all this, Caleb."
"I wanted to, I told you."
She sipped the coffee. Finished the Danish. Grabbed a doughnut.
"Your mother says you, um?have a doctor's appointment today," he said, speaking slowly.
"Yeah. In an hour actually."
He looked at her, his blue eyes conveying a clear message. She rolled hers and sighed. "Don't tell me you want to come along."
He nodded hard. "Only if it won't make you too uncomfortable," he said quickly.
"When the stirrups come out, pal, you leave the room. Got it?"
He shuddered. "I?think I can safely promise that much." Turning, he went to the two cribs, checked them out, nodding in approval. "Why the mesh on the inside?" he asked.
"The slats were a bit too far apart on the older models. Of course, the five of us survived them, but you can't be too careful."
Nodding, he reached in
to touch the soft blankets. "I've never seen a baby quilt like this before."
"That's because I made it."
He turned toward her, his brows arched, then lifted the quilt out of the crib for a closer examination. Building blocks with letters on them, and bunnies and teddy bears, all hand stitched, in various textures and colors, littered the piece. "Wow. This is some intricate work, Maya." Then, grinning at her, he said, "I guess my plan is working."
"What?" she asked.
"To get to know you better," he explained. "Already I've learned something about you. You quilt."
The sound of a throat being cleared made them both look toward the door, where Kara stood looking in at them. Her head was only a few inches below the door-frame.
"She quilts, she sews, she cooks-the woman makes Martha Stewart look like an amateur."
"Oh, cut it out, Kara. I'm not auditioning for anything here."
Kara only shrugged. "Caleb," she said, "I have a favor to ask you."
He said, "Anything at all, Kara. What do you need?"
"Well, with all that's been going on, we haven't even got a Christmas tree up yet."
He tipped his head to one side. "Hell, I can't even remember the last time I had a tree for Christmas."
"Really?" Kara asked. "Why not?"
"I don't know. It's just me and my father, and I guess we?." He shook his head. "I don't know. So, what do you need? Help getting a tree?"
"Yeah. Not that we can't do it ourselves. I mean, we do every year, but the pickup seems to be acting up this morning. It doesn't want to start. So I thought maybe you'd volunteer yours."
"Sure. When?"
"Sooner the better," Kara said with a smile. "How about right after you two get back from the doc?"
"No problem." Caleb smiled. "Actually, I'm kind of looking forward to it."
Kara's smile had enough wattage to light the entire town of Big Falls, Maya thought.
"Hey, we should probably be going pretty soon," Caleb said. "I'm going to go out and start the car, let it warm up." He glanced at Maya. "I'm assuming you want to take the van, right?"
"It's the most comfortable for me."
He nodded and headed out of the room. Maya heard his feet running down the stairs. Her sister sent her an innocent look, and then turned to go.
"Kara, hold it right there."
Stopping, but not turning, Kara said, "What?" in a squeaky voice.
"What did you do to our pickup?"
Now she did turn. She must have thought those fluttering lashes would help her cause. "What do you mean?"
"You did something so it wouldn't run, so that you could con Caleb into coming with us to get the tree. Didn't you?"
Her brows came down fast. "You have a suspicious mind!"
"And you haven't denied a thing."
Kara crossed her arms over her chest. "I like him." Then she tipped her head to one side. "Besides, did you see his eyes light up? Did you hear what he said about not remembering the last time he bothered to celebrate Christmas with his father?"
"That's not what he said-he said he couldn't remember the last time he got a tree," Maya corrected.
"So how do you celebrate Christmas without a tree?" Kara shook her head. "He's lonely, Maya. I can see it."
"Yeah, well?maybe."
"Aren't you even curious?"
Behind her, Caleb said, "Curious about what?" Kara gasped and whirled on him. He only grinned, gave her a mischievous wink, and looked past her to Maya. "Your chariot awaits. But you can finish your coffee first. Give it time to warm up."
"I'll take the coffee with me," she said. "The sooner we get this over with, the better." She drew a breath, preparing herself for the inevitable awkward moment when she was forced to get her bulk up out of a chair. But before she could even begin, Caleb was there. He slid one arm behind the small of her back, steadied her with the other and helped her up so easily anyone would have thought she must be tiny. She liked it and that scared her.
A Brand of Christmas Page 25