Twins for Christmas

by Amanda Renee

  “Where would you like it?”

  “Huh?” Her breathing halted as her pulse quickened.

  Noah stood in the open doorway, kicking off his work boots while holding the Christmas tree in one hand and the stand in the other. “I gave it another fresh cut. Where do you want me to set it up?”

  “Uh...um...” Hannah’s brain short-circuited. “The corner of the living room, to the left of the fireplace so you can see it from outside.”

  Noah’s gaze searched hers. “Are you okay?”

  “Of course.” Hannah hurried past him and pulled the plastic drop cloth aside so he could get through the archway. She ran to the corner, her arms wide. “Here would be perfect.”

  Noah stared at her. Her body tingled under his scrutiny. “Sweetheart.” He half laughed. “If you want me to put the tree there, you’re going to have to move out of the way.”

  Hannah slinked away from the window. What the heck was wrong with her? Noah wasn’t the first man she’d wanted to kiss, although none of them had been rugged, ex-military helicopter pilots who’d helped create two of the most beautiful angels on earth.

  Rather than risk embarrassing herself, Hannah escaped into the kitchen. She filled a watering can, composed her thoughts and returned, maintaining a safe distance from Noah.

  “You beat me to it.” Noah reached for the steel can. “I wondered where you ran off to.”

  She hadn’t run off. Okay, she had. “I wanted to stay one step ahead of you.” That was the truth. “I think we should call it a day. It’s late, the kids are in bed and I need to get up early. Here are the keys to my truck. I’ll take you up on your offer. I’m not planning on going anywhere tomorrow, though.”

  “Mine are by the stairs.” Noah filled the stand and took the keys. “What time do we collect eggs?”

  She laughed. “You were serious?”

  “Why not?” He handed her back the can. “I’m open to new experiences.”

  Hannah narrowed her eyes. “You are, huh?” She could teach him a thing or two. “Be here at five. You can stay here with the kids while I tend to the horses, then once they’re up and fed—which you can do—I’ll put you to work in the henhouse.”

  “Work in the henhouse.” His left brow rose the same way Cheyenne’s did when she was leery about something.

  “You’ll see.” A renewed confidence swept over her. She was an expert when it came to her ranch. And she may be in the midst of an emotional upheaval, but she was confident in her ability to turn the plans for her land into a reality. Even if it took every ounce of strength she had, she’d ensure Charlotte and Cheyenne were there beside her. If Noah wanted to be part of their lives, he’d have to figure out how to do it in Ramblewood. It was time for her to regain control.

  * * *

  NOAH KNOCKED ON Hannah’s front door at five minutes to five.

  She opened the door barefoot, dressed in faded denim overalls, a long-sleeve gray T-shirt, and her hair up in a messy bun. Country casual shouldn’t look so sexy this early in the morning. “I wasn’t sure you’d show up. Come on in.”

  “Here are your keys. Your truck wasn’t half bad. Well, once I realized I wasn’t being shot at.”

  Hannah laughed. “Old Blue can scare a calf out of a cow from ten miles away when she gets temperamental. She runs a little rough in the morning.”

  Ah...so that’s the color of the truck. “That’s one way of putting it.” He slipped off his boots and carried them to the back of the house, leaving them in the mudroom off the kitchen. “Is the porch getting painted today?” he asked as she handed him a cup of coffee.

  Hannah nodded. “The painters are using a sprayer, so it won’t take long, but we won’t be able to walk on it for a few days. I hope it’s dry in time for Friday’s inspection.” We? Noah wondered if she included him in her we. A piece of toast popped up in the toaster and she grabbed it, pointing to the loaf of bread on the counter. “Help yourself to whatever you want. People are still dropping off food.” She bit off a piece, dry. “The kids are asleep and the baby monitor is on the table. Take it with you wherever you go. I’ll probably be finished by the time they wake up.” Hannah scrutinized him. “You’re not a diaper man, are you?” She laughed. “We’re not quite ready for potty training. Lauren had start—” She waved her toast. “Nope, I am not going to make myself cry. Holler out the back door if they wake up and I’ll walk you through the process. I’ll be in the stables mucking stalls. Then we’ll—you’ll—tackle the eggs.” She tugged on a pair of boots over her bare feet and bounded down the back steps.

  Picking up the baby monitor, he ran his fingers across the screen, resisting every impulse to go upstairs and hold his daughters. They needed their sleep. He clipped the monitor to his belt and watched Hannah through the back door.

  She began opening the outer stall doors, allowing fresh air to enter the stables before disappearing inside. Every so often, he’d see her reappear in one of the stalls. Somewhere in the distance, he heard the sound of a small engine start. A large puff of smoke appeared as Hannah drove a battered red tractor pulling a wooden trailer filled with hay bales. She stopped in front of a large metal rack in the middle of one of the pastures, cut the engine and climbed onto the wagon.

  After cutting open the bales, she filled the rack with hay using a large pitchfork.

  “Oh,” Noah said. “They’re horse feeders.”

  She repeated the process in two more pastures before returning to the stables. Within minutes, she led two horses down a dirt path and into a pasture behind the barrel racing practice area. After she’d turned out the rest of them, she pulled a pair of gloves from her pocket, grabbed the wheelbarrow next to the stables and disappeared.

  Noah walked back into the kitchen, feeling guilty for not helping her. Being idle was not his strong suit. His stomach growled. He glanced around the kitchen. The room was an organized chaos of food. When he spotted the half-eaten cherry pie in the fridge, he knew what he was having for breakfast.

  After washing his empty plate, he tiptoed upstairs and peeked in at the girls. Seeing them on a three-inch black-and-white screen just didn’t cut it. Cheyenne was sound asleep on her back and Charlotte was curled up beside her. He’d have to remember to ask Hannah later why the girls slept together when they had two cribs.

  The marvels of creation fascinated him. It didn’t matter how many times he saw the twins, he still couldn’t believe they were real. Maybe the paternity test results would help solidify that feeling.

  He resisted the urge to look in Hannah’s room before making his way downstairs. He wanted to learn more about her, but he wanted to discover who she was organically. Noah laughed to himself. One week around Hannah and he was talking about organics.

  He hadn’t meant to find the social worker’s report, but it was hard to miss nailed to the pantry door. Hannah and Clay had filled him in on what they needed to complete. A few days ago, it had sounded like an insurmountable list, but with the exception of the porch, she was finished.

  The dining room had become a construction material catchall. He could work on straightening it up. He wanted to go outside and explore the ranch but couldn’t leave the twins. An hour later, he felt slightly more useful. A truck rumbled out front. The painters had arrived to spray the porch. He plodded through the house to let Hannah know. He hadn’t expected to find her pushing a wheelbarrow full of manure to a large fenced area he figured was a compost heap.

  “She maneuvers that thing like a boss,” Noah said to himself. She impressed him more every day.

  Hannah took a five-minute break, spoke to the painters and then went back to work. Noah wanted to get out there and help, not be stuck inside waiting to hear a cry on the monitor. He had a strong suspicion that had been Hannah’s point. Back in Oregon, he came and went as he pleased and Hannah knew it. She’d shown him the mea
ning of tied down in a matter of hours. The concept would take some getting used to.

  Hannah finished her chores and showered before the girls awoke. Diaper duty officially became his least favorite part of parenthood. He’d diapered the right end. That had to count for something.

  “How do you plan to do all of this on your own?” Noah asked, more out of fear he wouldn’t be able to do it on his own.

  “I told you. I have help. A lot of it. You know that old saying that it takes a village to raise a child? It’s true, especially when there are twins. I don’t know how Lauren did it alone in Boston. Her new job had on-site day care. She could pop in and see them throughout the day and that made a world of difference. That’s why she accepted the position. What would you do with them in Oregon? Get up in the morning, drop them off at day care for eight to ten hours and then pick them up at night when they’re too tired to have anything to do with you? Why do you want some stranger raising your kids when my family and I are here?”

  He didn’t have a response. In a perfect world, he wouldn’t hire a stranger. He would hire...Hannah? He wondered if she’d be open to the idea of coming with them to Oregon as the girls’ nanny. Of course, she’d be more than hired help. While the idea had its appeal, he didn’t think Hannah would go for it. If she would at least give Aurora a chance, she might want to move there. She could do everything she was doing in Texas, only there. It would be a big change, but it wasn’t impossible. Then they could parent the kids together.

  After a breakfast of flying fruit and played-in cereal, he didn’t know who needed a change of clothes more. How he’d ended up wearing the twins’ food was beyond him, but he was exhausted by nine in the morning.

  “Ready for the chickens?” An amused expression crossed her face. “We’re already behind schedule.”

  “We are?” Noah thought they’d done pretty well. She was challenging him and he relished every minute of it...sans diapers. Her mood had noticeably lifted since yesterday evening and he was enjoying her lighter side. “Lead me to them.”

  “Grab the stroller and meet me outside.” Hannah had the kids up, ready and outside before he’d managed to get the stroller open. “Come on, big guy. I have faith in you,” she mocked from the back steps.

  “This isn’t fair.” Noah found the release and the stroller sprung into shape, almost taking out his manhood in the process. “You had directions the first time you did this.”

  Once the kids were fastened in the stroller, they walked to the henhouse. “They’re loud.”

  “Cackling means they’re laying eggs. I check them twice a day.” She parked the stroller outside the whitewashed structure. “I have roll-out nest boxes, so all you need to do is lift this lid and collect them.”

  There were probably thirty brown and white eggs sitting atop a green artificial grass-like material. “What’s the difference between the two?”

  “Nothing. The color of a chicken’s ears determines what color eggs they lay.”

  “Chickens have ears?”

  Hannah stared at him incredulously. “Of course they have ears.” Hannah opened the outer pen gate, picked up a chicken and held it up to him. “Look right here.”

  “I’ll be damned. I never knew chickens had ears.”

  Hannah swatted him. “No swearing around the kids.”

  “What did I say?”

  “D-a-m-n-e-d. We don’t use that language when little ones are present.”

  “I’m sorry.” He’d never considered the word a swearword before. “What’s my punishment?”

  “You’re going to clean the henhouse.” Her smile lit her face brighter than the midmorning sun.

  “I’m what?”

  “Hannah rested her hand on his back and gave him a gentle push. “Go inside and shoo out the hens. Don’t be afraid of them.” She handed him a pair of gloves. “Shovel all the soiled bedding into a wheelbarrow. There’s a large scraper hanging on the back of the henhouse door. Scrape down the floor to make sure it’s chicken-poop free. Dust all the corners and nooks with the broom to make sure there aren’t any spiders or snakes lurking around.”

  “Snakes?” Noah hadn’t signed on for snakes.

  “They love to dine on eggs.” Hannah patted his arm. “You’ll be okay. The broom will protect you,” she teased. “If you see a snake, call me and I’ll take care of it. Keep your hands out of any dark recesses and you’ll be fine. After you’re finished with that, I’ll show you how to put down fresh straw, and then you’ll clean and disinfect the food and water dishes with the poultry-safe disinfectant hanging on the door next to the scraper. We’ll feed them, and then chicken duty will be over for the morning. I’m going to take the girls to see the horses and will check on you in a little bit.”

  “You do this every day?”

  “I like to clean out the coop once a week. It’s been almost two with everything going on.”

  When he offered to collect the eggs, he hadn’t expected to be roped into cleaning up after the hens. He carefully opened the door and looked in. He couldn’t remember ever being around chickens. It wasn’t as if he lived in the city, but you didn’t usually stumble across a chicken in a helicopter. A bird jumped at him from the corner flapping its wings. He screamed and closed the door.

  “That’s quite a girlie scream you have going on,” Hannah called from the path between the corrals. “They’re more afraid of you than you are of them.”

  “You want to bet?” he mumbled. After a few false starts, Noah managed to clean the henhouse and ruin his boots at the same time. By the end of the morning, he wanted to join Charlotte and Cheyenne when they went down for a nap.

  Hannah told him more about her plans for the farm while they ate lunch. Her cell phone rang and Hannah answered. “It’s Avery,” she whispered to him. “The paternity test results are in.” She listened while nodding. “His attorney?” Astonishment lit her face. “I hadn’t realized he had one. I assumed he would, but no, he hadn’t mentioned it.”

  “About that.” He’d planned to tell Hannah that morning but hadn’t had the opportunity. He’d transferred the retainer fee through his mobile banking app last night and had expected it to take a day or two before the funds were processed and Mark contacted Avery. “I was going to tell you.”

  Still on the phone, Hannah strode to the pantry and tore the social worker’s list off the wall. “It will be finished today, with the exception of cleanup.” She paced the room. “Okay, we’ll see you later. Thank you.” She hung up and pocketed her phone. “We have to meet Avery at her office at five o’clock.”

  “If she has the results now, why can’t she read them to us over the phone?”

  “They’re sealed and she won’t open them until we’re there and she has your attorney on the phone at the same time.”

  “She can’t do this sooner?” He’d no doubt the twins were his, but he wanted to see it in black and white.

  “She has other clients. Five o’clock is the soonest.” Her right hand tapped wildly against her thigh. “What happens now?”

  Noah understood her apprehension. “We take it one step at a time. I wanted you to hear about my attorney from me, not Avery. There wasn’t a good time this morning.”

  “When did you hire him?” She shot him a penetrating look.

  “Last night.”

  A soft gasp escaped her. “Wow! I feel like a fool. Here I thought we were getting closer. At least that’s what you led me to believe. The joke’s on me.”

  Noah swung her into the circle of his arms, refusing to allow her to think he’d played her. He lifted her chin so she’d look at him. “We are getting closer.” His lips brushed hers. It was a simple, sweet kiss until she entwined her fingers in his hair, pulling him closer with her free hand, and kissed him the way a man dreamed of being kissed.

  “Noah.�
� Her voice was barely a whisper against his mouth.

  His lips softly found hers, easing them apart with his tongue. Slow and easy, he drew her to him. She stood on her toes and wound her arms around his neck. He’d dated his fair share of women, but none had curled his toes and made his blood boil at the same time. And damned if he didn’t want more of it.

  His hands found her bottom and lifted her onto the edge of the counter. He broke their kiss and gazed at her. Her lips were swollen from the assault, her eyes hungry. “Tell me to stop and I will.”

  “The children are upstairs.” Breathless, she tilted her head back and looked toward the ceiling.

  “They’re upstairs sleeping. The workers are finished painting the porch and it’s just you and me.” Her rapid pulse was visible on the side of her neck. His hands traveled up her thighs, pausing on her waist. His thumbs gently grazed the tender bit of flesh beneath the hem of her shirt. He was thankful she’d shed her loose overalls for something more formfitting after her shower.

  “Wait.” She pushed lightly against his chest. “How do I know you’re not just attracted to me because you feel it will help you with the girls?”

  Noah eased her down from the counter. “I would never use you that way.” He pulled out a chair for her at the table and sat across from her. “I could ask the same question. I know you’re grieving and I probably shouldn’t have kissed you, but I’m finding it more and more impossible to deny what’s developing between us. And please don’t ask me what I would do if Charlotte and Cheyenne weren’t part of the equation, because they are. I choose to live in the present and look toward the future. I’d like to see where it leads with you.”

  “I need more time. We’re about to hear proof you’re the girls’ father. And you’re right. I need to be certain what I feel for you is really about you and not because I’m terrified of losing them.”