Twins for Christmas

by Amanda Renee

  None.

  He couldn’t.

  He did.

  Hannah intrigued him. He had known Lauren’s background, at least what he remembered of it after their encounter and from what Hannah had told him. Where Lauren had been more forward, Hannah was more reserved. She’d already told him she’d majored in agricultural science, but Fern had told him she had also minored in agricultural economics. Her mother had filled him in on all things Hannah yesterday, and he hadn’t minded.

  “How does she do it all?” Noah hadn’t meant to ask the question aloud.

  “My sister?” Clay gathered his tools and slapped him on the back. “My man, if you intend to raise twins, you better learn how to multitask real fast.”

  Noah sat on the bottom step. He could multitask. If he could hover over the tree line in a helicopter and maneuver logs dangling from a cable, he could handle twins. Couldn’t he? He had years of training in the military and as a civilian. But Charlotte and Cheyenne didn’t come with a manual and he didn’t think the book he downloaded on his iPad last night would cover it.

  Once again he found himself wondering if taking the girls home to Oregon was the best thing for them. “What am I doing?”

  “I’ve been wondering the same thing.” Hannah’s voice startled him.

  “Oh, hey. I was trying to figure out what to tackle next.” Noah stood, inhaling her clean, fresh scent. Much better. “I’m surprised how many people are here.”

  “Lauren may not have been a Ramblewood native, but everyone loved her.” Hannah motioned for him to follow her onto the front porch. She handed him a countersink and a hammer. “We need to make sure there are no raised nail heads out here.” Hannah knelt beside him. “Lauren didn’t have any family...none living anyway. She came home with me on weekends, holidays and during the summer. And when we rented our little apartment in town, she was involved in every community event...parades, festivals, you name it, Lauren was at the heart of it. Lauren was the heart of it. And everyone adores her girls. Everyone coming out here today isn’t so much about helping me, it’s about remembering Lauren and making sure Charlotte and Cheyenne have everything they need.”

  Noah easily envisioned his daughters growing up on the ranch. Not that he’d admit it to Hannah anytime soon. Maybe summers in Ramblewood wouldn’t be such a bad thing.

  Chapter Five

  Monday morning, Hannah fought the urge to pace the lab’s waiting room. Noah was a half hour late. Avery had insisted on an independent lab performing the paternity test for fear the hospital would notify social services, and the less Constance knew at this point, the better for Hannah. Avery would notify social services of Noah’s paternal rights once they had a fully executed custody agreement in place. This way the courts would favor Hannah instead of relying on social services to determine temporary guardianship.

  Technically Hannah could leave. The girls already had their mouths swabbed and Fern had taken them home. Avery had arranged for the lab to send the results to her office, so there was no reason for Hannah to stay—except for the inexplicable need to wait that gnawed at the pit of her stomach. She didn’t know if it was out of fear or sympathy for Noah. It had to be fear, or maybe it was her own uneasiness.

  The door swung wide and Noah ran into the clinic, out of breath. “I’m sorry I’m late.” He patted his chest. “I got lost trying to find this place. The GPS in my rental is missing a few roads.” He glanced around the room. “Where are the girls?”

  “They already left with my mom. They got fidgety. What was I going to tell them if they started asking questions? There was no reason to keep them here.”

  The lines of concern on his face began to relax. “You’re right. Can I at least see them later on?”

  “I assumed you wanted to see them every day while you’re here.” Hannah didn’t know how long he intended on staying in Ramblewood and hadn’t asked for fear he’d try to take the girls with him. He had a job she figured he needed to get back to, as did she. In an attempt to reassure her that she’d have the girls for Christmas, Avery had explained that a custody agreement might take months to settle. Unfortunately, reassurance had become a foreign concept.

  “Thank you.” The receptionist slid the glass window open and handed him a form. He sat in the chair across from her, his pen tapping against the clipboard as he filled out the paperwork. “Why are you still here?”

  Hannah twisted her thumb ring. “I don’t know. I thought that maybe you needed a friend. I don’t know who you’ve told about this or what kind of support system you have in place. And believe me, when you’re a single parent, you need a support system. Lauren had a team of people rallying behind her. Since you don’t know anyone else in town, I’m lending you a shoulder to lean on in case you need one.”

  He smiled nervously. “I’m assuming this won’t take too long, and then we can be on our way.”

  Within minutes they called his name. William Knight. No, it definitely didn’t suit him. He looked more like a Noah. Strong and virile. Hannah watched the door close behind him. Okay, so the way his jeans hugged his backside as he crossed the room conjured up those images more than his name did.

  More waiting. She’d never been a patient person. Like barrel racing, everything she did was at full speed. She had too much going on in her life to sit around. Her brother and some volunteers from Hanson’s Hardware had been at the house when she’d left. The store had donated the supplies and they were prepping the old clapboards for a fresh coat of white. It hadn’t been her first choice of color, but she’d worry about it years from now when it needed another paint job. She was overjoyed with any color offered. According to the social worker’s report, the house needed to be free of peeling paint. Anything flaking off the walls presented a possible ingestion risk. If Hannah hadn’t had so many people willing to help her, it would have been impossible to have her home ready for inspection at the end of the week.

  Noah still hadn’t mentioned his support system or his friends. She knew about his mother, but he hadn’t talked about anyone else. It was inevitable Charlotte and Cheyenne would spend some time with him. She wanted—needed—to hear about the type of people who’d be in the girls’ lives.

  “That was painless.” Noah interrupted her thoughts. “They said the results will take twenty-four to forty-eight hours.”

  And the waiting begins again.

  Hannah thanked the receptionist and followed Noah to his car. “Do you mind if we stop at the dollar store on the way back? I want to pick up a few items so the girls can begin making Christmas ornaments and their gingerbread house.” Hannah slid into the seat next to him. “Better yet, you can be in charge of the gingerbread.”

  “Me?” Confusion etched his features in an adorable way...much like Charlotte’s. Another subtle reminder that the dynamics of their family unit were about to change. “How did I get roped into that one?”

  She fastened her safety belt as he started the car. “Men build houses.”

  He draped an arm over her seat, checking the rear view. “Isn’t that a little sexist?” His face was close to hers. Closer than it had been in the truck at the rodeo. The urge to kiss him reared its ugly head again. If she had turned away any faster, she’d have gotten whiplash.

  “Yes, but in this case it works for me and it will be good practice for you.” Hannah yanked her bag from the car floor, annoyed with the torrent of emotions running through her body. Was it lust? There was no place for any of that or anything else in their relationship except friendship. That was it. He was a new friend, if she could even call him that. “I just realized I don’t have your phone number. Give it to me and I’ll text you the link to the website Lauren got most of the children’s projects and recipes from.”

  “They have a website for that?”

  “I think they have a website for everything nowadays,” she s
aid. “Always check to make sure everything you give a child is nontoxic. Like you would never hand a kid any old marker and let them color with it. They have to use markers specifically formulated for children and preferably the kind that only write on special paper and not the walls and furniture, as Lauren and I found out the hard way.”

  “That had to have been fun.”

  Hannah laughed. “It wasn’t when it happened. We walked into the living room and found Cheyenne covered head to toe in black marker, happily drawing on Charlotte. Our landlord was furious. We’d rented the place furnished and even though we’d painted over the walls with the help of five coats of primer, the marker refused to come out of the furniture. We never saw that security deposit again.” She’d do anything to relive that day, despite the disaster. “I’m going to be honest with you.” Hannah clasped her hands in her lap. “Your not knowing about kids frightens me. I’m not saying you can’t learn. When the twins were born, my mom was right there beside Lauren 24/7 helping her and showing her what to do. How to diaper a baby. How to feed them. Plus, she went to prenatal and childcare classes. Lauren was super prepared and she still asked my mom for advice. You haven’t had any of that and I’m not trying to belittle you, but what makes you think you can take the children home and know what to do?”

  “I’ll admit, the same thoughts have been running through my mind. I do have my mom, though, and I think she did a pretty good job with me, if I do say so myself.” His grin was undeniably warm. “I also hope that you’ll allow me to call you whenever I need to. And you can always visit.”

  She whirled to stare at him, fending off the quick anger that rose within her. “Thank you, but I don’t want to be a visitor in their lives. I want to raise them, as Lauren intended.” Her fingers dug into her hands as she resisted the urge to defend her place in the children’s lives. Avery had warned her to keep her cool regardless of what he might say. She didn’t think he meant to be a totally uncaring ass, and that wasn’t the worst phrase that came to mind.

  “I think we’re getting ahead of ourselves. I haven’t made any decisions yet, not that I even have a legal right to. Are you going to tell me where to go, or not?” He rested his forearms on the steering wheel and glanced at her sideways. “We’ve been blocking the exit for five minutes and now there’s somebody behind us.”

  Good thing he clarified that last part, because she’d love nothing more than to tell him to go back to Oregon and stay there...alone.

  She gave him directions and they rode the rest of the way in silence. When she went to step out of the car, he reached for her arm to stop her. “Tell me how you see this playing out.”

  Hannah sank into the seat. “Charlotte and Cheyenne have grown up with me and my family. We are their family. Legally and in every sense of the word.” She shifted to face him. “If Lauren was still alive, she never would have let you take her kids away. I’m willing to give you what she would have given you—a couple weeks of vacation a year and vists whenever you want. But you’ll be uprooting them if you force them to go to Oregon. You’ve acknowledged that Lauren’s their mother, but you haven’t granted me that same respect. Would you have taken the kids away from her?”

  She was suddenly anxious to escape the confines of the car as a silence surrounded them. A cold knot formed in her stomach. She feared she’d said too much. She didn’t want to anger or upset him, but she refused to allow him to ignore her role in their lives.

  “I realize this situation is extremely unfair to you,” Noah said. “I promise to take everything you’re saying into consideration.”

  His unexpected response unsettled her. “I feel like I’m walking on eggshells around you. We can’t get to know each other if we’re constantly on edge. Avery already told me you won’t get the girls before the holiday, so can we call a truce and give Charlotte and Cheyenne the Christmas they deserve?”

  Noah’s eyes shone with wetness as he nodded. “Yeah, I can do that. Go ahead on in. I need a minute.”

  His reaction surprised her. Hannah hadn’t realized his attachment to the girls until now. She pinched the bridge of her nose. It had already happened. He’d fallen in love with them. She had no idea what made her reach for his hand and give it a squeeze. When he squeezed back, relief washed over her. They’d made some progress for the first time since he’d arrived. It was a start. The idea of spending Christmas with Noah both excited and frightened her. They were about to become a little family, giving Hannah the opportunity to show him the amount of love the girls had around them. Then maybe, just maybe, he’d give her the greatest gift of all—leaving Charlotte and Cheyenne with her.

  * * *

  NOAH’S PHONE HAD vibrated in his pocket repeatedly during their ride. He didn’t want to be rude and answer it, especially since he suspected it was the attorney’s office he’d contacted earlier. He retrieved the message and jotted down the information. He decided it was best to have this conversation when Hannah wasn’t around. He didn’t want to upset her further.

  He felt like an ass. She had been right...again. He hated being wrong, especially when it came at his expense. She had assumed Lauren’s role in the twins’ lives. He didn’t know if the law was in his favor, but he couldn’t in good conscience hurt his daughters by separating them from Hannah. But that didn’t mean he’d give up, either.

  He opened the car door. Whatever the resolution was, he wouldn’t find it today. He joined Hannah inside. She’d been in the store a few minutes and already held a basket filled to the brim.

  “I’m ready to check out. You need anything?” she asked.

  “That was fast.”

  “There are too many people waiting for me at the house. I can’t waste time shopping. I needed to pick these up now so the girls could start working on their Christmas decorations.” She held up her basket filled with colored paper, tape and stickers. “We enjoy making them together. I hope you’ll join us.”

  Noah detected a twinge of apprehension in Hannah’s jovial tone. Not that he blamed her. Christmas or not, she still thought of him as the enemy.

  “I’ll try my best. I haven’t made decorations since I was five or six years old.” His mom was many wonderful things, but crafty was not one of them. “Now that your parents’ tree is all set, what about one for the girls?”

  “There is an organic Christmas tree farm not far from the house and, depending on when we finish today, I thought it would be nice to drive out there and get one. I know the girls don’t remember last year’s tree. And who knows if they’ll remember this year’s, but I want them to have photos and videos to look at later. I want them to know I—we—did our best to give them an amazing Christmas under the circumstances.”

  Noah enveloped Hannah in a hug in the middle of the store. And she hugged him back with her free arm. Not only couldn’t he lose his girls, he was beginning to realize Charlotte and Cheyenne couldn’t lose Hannah, either. Somewhere his fight had changed from bringing his daughters home to keeping a family together and making sure he was a part of it.

  * * *

  BY THE TIME the sun began to set, Noah’s body ached. His heli-logging job required strict mental focus, not physical strength. He hadn’t been this sore since his air force days. He could still run a six-minute mile and maintained an active training schedule, of course. It helped keep his mind sharp, but none of it involved climbing up and down ladders, hefting shingles over his shoulder or having two twenty-one-month-olds bounce up and down on his chest as if he were a trampoline. He’d been away from home for a week and hadn’t worked out once.

  When the dust settled, literally, he lent Hannah a hand damp mopping the floors and wiping down the walls. She was adamant about keeping the allergen levels to an absolute minimum while they made the repairs. The living room rug had been delivered and a plastic drop cloth hung in the doorway to keep further construction dust out. Now that the room wa
s completed, he noticed how warmly Hannah had decorated it.

  The light-coffee-colored walls contrasted with the white trim nicely. The room had a modern yet rustic feel. While she didn’t have much furniture in here, the oversized and overstuffed couch and armchair invited you to sink into them. Instead of a coffee table, Hannah had laid out a washable play mat for the girls. The brick fireplace had a locking screen installed on the front of it to prevent little ones from climbing inside. Noah envisioned a tree in the corner and all three of them around it Christmas morning.

  “It looks good, doesn’t it?” Hannah came in, freshly showered. She flopped down on the couch. “We made more progress than I had expected today.”

  “You did a great job.” Noah considered joining her but didn’t think she’d take too kindly to him dirtying her couch. At least he’d had the good sense to kick off his boots. “I would have loved a room like this growing up. Honestly, I would have loved having this whole house and a big yard to run around in. I never knew my dad. He didn’t want to know me or even pay child support. All my mom could afford was a tiny third-floor walk-up on the edge of town. It was neat and clean, but it only had one bedroom, which Mom selflessly gave to me while she slept on the couch. Not even a sofa bed. Just a couch. I look around this place and everything you’ve taken on, and it looks overwhelming to me, because as strong as my mom was and still is, I can’t imagine her tackling this.”

  “Now I understand why you’re so determined to claim your daughters. But you’re not your father.” She rose from the couch and crossed the room to him. “You’re a better man than he is. Just keep in mind that even though I did the majority of this room on my own, I can’t say that for the rest of the house. Sometimes being a parent means accepting help from others.” She touched his arm lightly before moving the drop cloth doorway aside. “Are you hungry? I can reheat a casserole from the freezer.”

  “How about I clean up and take you and the twins out for dinner.” Noah checked his watch. It was a little past six. “I think we deserve to relax, and then we can swing by that Christmas tree farm you mentioned.”