Twins on the Doorstep

by Marie Ferrarella

  Saying good-night to Connor and then, in a more reserved voice, to Cole, Stacy made her way upstairs to her room.

  Closing the door, she locked it for good measure—just in case Cole was tempted to come in while she was sleeping.

  Or is that wishful thinking on your part? a little voice in her head asked, taunting her.

  She was too tired for this.

  Damn that man, anyway. Cole’s kiss had stirred up things he had no business stirring up. And the sooner she got to sleep, Stacy told herself, putting on her nightgown, the better off she’d be.

  Except that she couldn’t get to sleep.

  Not for a long, long time.

  Instead, Stacy tossed and turned, fervently hoping that somewhere along the line, sleep would somehow sneak up on her.

  But the only thing that did sneak up on her were memories that she’d thought she’d successfully managed to bury. Obviously, she was wrong. Those memories weren’t buried. They were very, very fresh.

  This was all Cole’s fault. If he hadn’t kissed her, she’d be well on her way to getting over him.

  Who are you kidding? Your pulse starts to rise any time he gets close to you. If you really wanted to get over him, you wouldn’t be here, you’d be at the hotel, clerking for Rebecca.

  With a deep, weary sigh, Stacy attempted to punch her pillow into a more comfortable, more accommodating shape. She failed.

  * * *

  IT TOOK HER a long time to finally drift off. Just before she fell asleep, she promised herself that she was never letting Cole get close enough to kiss her again.

  Never!

  She woke up feeling more tired than when she’d gone to bed.

  It took her a few moments to realize that one reason could be that she’d been dreaming about Cole. It seemed like even her subconscious mind was ganging up against her.

  So then she tried to remember what she’d dreamed about. But the more she tried, the more elusive and out of reach her dreams became. All she could recall was that the dreams were about Cole and that when she’d finally woken up, she was smiling from ear to ear.

  Sitting up in bed, Stacy dragged her hand through her hair, struggling to come to and pull herself together.

  It was after she’d finished washing her face and while she was still brushing her teeth that she noticed almost seven hours had passed by since Connor had said he’d put the twins to bed.

  They’d slept through the night!

  That seemed almost impossible, given their age. Stacy remembered hearing that, on the average, babies usually slept through the night only by the time they reached about four months—if their parents were lucky.

  “I guess the twins are really exceptional,” she said aloud, feeling a tinge of pride for a second.

  However, that was followed, for some reason, by a sense of urgency. It swept over her, starting in the pit of her stomach and quickly progressing on to the rest of her.

  Something was wrong.

  She could feel it.

  Stacy quickly threw on her clothes, all the while telling herself that she was overreacting and letting her imagination run away with her. After all, she had no real experience when it came to dealing with babies and she really had no reason to suspect that something might be wrong.

  She just did.

  Even so, Stacy forced herself to calm down before she left her bedroom. The last thing she wanted was to have Connor or Cole thinking she was some crazy person, given to flights of fantasy and anticipating the very worst for no reason.

  After putting on her shoes, she took a deep breath and left her bedroom, then immediately went into the twins’ room.

  They were both in their crib. Drawing closer, she saw their little chests were subtly moving up and down.

  See, they’re breathing. You’re just being paranoid.

  Calm now, Stacy turned away and was about to tiptoe out again.

  She had no idea what made her turn back again, or what made her lean over the crib railing and kiss first Katie’s forehead and then Mikey’s, but she did.

  The twins were both burning up.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Stacy’s heart instantly felt as if it had constricted and was now lodged in her throat. Rushing out of the twins’ room, she knocked urgently on Cole’s door.

  “Cole, wake up!” she cried through the door. “They’re sick, the twins are really sick!”

  As if in unison, the door she was knocking on as well as the one next to it, Connor’s door, flew open. The oldest McCullough was wide awake, wearing a pair of old jeans and shrugging into his shirt.

  “Sick how?” he asked.

  “What’s wrong with them?” Cole asked, his voice blending with his brother’s. “Give me details.” Shirtless, he was the first one into the twins’ room.

  “They’re burning up,” Stacy told them. She was doing her best to stay calm, but it wasn’t working. All sorts of soul-draining scenarios were flooding her head.

  “Have you taken their temperature?” Connor asked.

  She looked at him blankly for a second before she felt her brain kicking in. “Do you have a baby thermometer?”

  Connor shook his head as he followed her into the twins’ room. Cole, already there, was passing his hand over first one small forehead, then the other. He was frowning.

  “If we had one,” Connor told her, “either Devon or Cassidy took it with them when they left. There wasn’t any need to have a baby thermometer—until now.”

  “All you have to do is touch them to know that they’re running a fever,” Stacy told Connor. “Their foreheads and little bodies are really hot.”

  “She’s right,” Cole told his brother. “They are.”

  Wanting to see for himself, Connor went the old-fashioned route. He pressed his lips against each of the twins’ foreheads the way he remembered his mother doing whenever Cody or Cole were sick.

  Straightening up again, he nodded grimly. “You’re right,” he told Stacy. “They are hot.”

  “I hate being right,” she retorted. “Shouldn’t we be trying to lower their temperatures by immersing them in a tub of cold water or something?” For some reason, she recalled reading an article once describing lowering a baby’s temperature using that method.

  Cole thought he had a better idea. “Why don’t we get them to the clinic?” he said, looking from Stacy to Connor. “They probably need medicine and one of the doctors at the clinic would know the best one to prescribe.”

  Stacy glanced at the watch that was hardly ever off her wrist. “Isn’t it too early for the clinic to be open yet?”

  “I’ll call Dr. Dan at his house,” Connor told Stacy, adding as he walked out of the room, “You two get them ready to drive into town.”

  Stacy’s hands were shaking as she tried to slip a pullover shirt and a pair of pants over Katie’s sleepwear. She didn’t want to risk the baby getting chilled when she was being taken out to the truck.

  Cole noticed the way her hands shook. “They’re going to be all right,” he assured her, his voice low, comforting. “Babies run fevers all the time. It’s just the first time it happens that’s the scariest.”

  He sounded so calm, Stacy thought. How did he do it? “You’re not worried?” she asked Cole, slipping a hat on the baby.

  Katie was fussing, resisting being dressed. It was obvious that she was miserable and cranky. Lying next to her, Mikey was whimpering.

  “I didn’t say that,” Cole answered. “I am,” he admitted. “I just know that this is not unusual.”

  “It is to me,” Stacy told him, fervently wishing that she was the one with the fever, not either one of the twins.

  Connor came back into the bedroom. “Okay, I called Dr. Dan. He said he’d meet us at the clinic.”r />
  “You’ve got work to do here,” Cole reminded his older brother. “No sense in all three of us going to the clinic with the twins.”

  “But—” Connor began to protest.

  “That’s okay, I’ve got this,” Cole assured him. “Stacy can sit in the back, holding one of the twins, the other can make the trip in the basket I found them in. They can’t both fit in there anymore, but if I put one of them in it, he’ll still fit. I’ll strap the basket in with a seat belt.” Cole could see what his brother was thinking.

  “Way ahead of you, Connor,” he said. “The second we get back from the clinic and bring the twins home, I’m heading back into town to buy a couple of car seats at the emporium so that we can transport the babies safely.”

  Connor still appeared a little dubious. “Sure you don’t want me to drive?”

  “I’ve got this,” Cole repeated, taking out the keys to his truck.

  “Maybe you should put a shirt on?” Connor tactfully suggested.

  Cole glanced down at his chest. “Oh. Right. One second,” he told them, hurrying back into his bedroom.

  “And boots,” Connor called after him.

  “Right!”

  Less than a minute later, Cole was back in the twins’ bedroom, pulling on a work shirt. Closing a few buttons, he tucked his shirt into his jeans and looked at Stacy. “You ready?”

  She barely nodded. “Let’s go,” she urged, holding Katie against her. She could feel the heat from the baby’s little body permeating her own skin. If anything, it felt as if Katie’s temperature had gone up.

  They all hurried outside to Cole’s truck. Stacy handed Katie off to Connor so she could get into the back seat.

  He gave the twin back to her, then helped secure the seat belt around both of them. Meanwhile, Cole had placed Mikey in the wicker basket, then pulled the seat belt tightly around it before pushing the metal tongue into the slot.

  Without a word, Cole rounded the rear of the truck to get to the driver’s side.

  “Last offer,” Connor said as Cole climbed in behind the steering wheel.

  Cole flashed him a heartfelt smile. He was grateful for the offer, but at the same time, he knew how the work on the ranch was beginning to pile up. He’d cut back on his time at the Healing Ranch in order to juggle helping out with the twins with working on the family ranch alongside of Connor.

  “Thanks, but we’ll be okay,” Cole told him. “All of us. Tell Rita I’m going to be hungry when we get back so she should set a big breakfast aside for me and one for Stacy.”

  “Yeah, I’ll be sure to tell her,” Connor told him. “Call me when you know anything.” He closed both doors, but the windows were each cracked open so they could hear him.

  “In Cole’s case, that might not be for a long time,” Stacy quipped. It was her way of trying to stave off another attack of nerves.

  “Call anyway,” Connor said with a smile.

  He stepped back as his brother started the truck.

  Within a few moments they had pulled away from the main house and were on the road that led straight into Forever.

  There was only the sound of the twins, fussing and whimpering for several miles. Cole could almost feel Stacy’s tension as it continued to grow in the truck.

  This couldn’t be good for her.

  “At least we don’t have to worry about running into traffic here,” Cole said in an attempt to distract Stacy and draw her into a conversation.

  “Just the occasional stray mountain lion,” Stacy commented. She didn’t even bother looking up. Her attention was entirely focused on the two babies in the back seat.

  “It’s a big truck,” Cole answered. “I can outrun a mountain lion if it comes to that.” He glanced up into the rearview mirror to catch a glimpse of her face, “How are you holding up?”

  “I’m not the one running a high fever.”

  “No,” he replied, “you’re the one who looks as pale as a ghost.”

  She didn’t want any attention focused on her. She was too worried about the twins. “I didn’t get a chance to put my makeup on.”

  This time when he looked up into the rearview mirror, his eyes met hers for a split second. “You don’t wear any makeup.”

  She felt herself growing defensive. “Done right, it’s not supposed to look like there’s any makeup on at all.”

  “Then what’s the point?”

  “A question for the ages,” she answered. And definitely one she didn’t think merited discussion. “Can this thing go any faster?” she asked.

  “Yes,” he answered patiently. “But I don’t want to shake the twins up.”

  She just wanted to get them to the doctor as quickly as possible. “Their fevers are practically sky high. I don’t think they’ll notice.”

  “Okay, faster it is,” he told her, giving in and throwing the truck into fifth gear.

  The truck responded instantly.

  * * *

  THEY MADE IT to Forever in record time and drove right past Miss Joan’s diner and several other establishments, coming to a screeching halt right in front of the clinic.

  Dan was standing there, obviously waiting for them. He moved toward the truck the moment he saw them approaching.

  “Bring them inside to the first exam room,” he told them, waving the two adults into the clinic.

  By now the twins were both crying, very vocal in registering their mutual distress.

  Cole carried Mikey while Stacy brought in Katie.

  Holding the baby to herself, she was murmuring to the little girl, saying anything and everything that came into her head in an effort to soothe the infant a little—and maybe herself in the process.

  Because it was too early for either of the nurses to have come in yet, Dan had Stacy provide the extra set of hands he needed during each exam. When he finished with Katie, he handed the infant over to Cole and had Stacy help him with Mikey.

  The entire time he conducted his examination, Stacy never took her eyes off Dan. She was watching the doctor’s every move, gauging his every expression so that she could determine whether or not Dr. Davenport was telling her the truth about the babies’ condition, or if he was just handing her a bunch of platitudes to keep her from overreacting.

  She’d liked the doctor ever since he first came to Forever, but this was different. This involved two tiny human beings who had managed, without any effort at all, to wrap her heart around their tiny little fingers. She cared deeply about their welfare.

  She didn’t realize she was holding her breath until Cole leaned over and whispered, “Breathe,” into her ear.

  She shivered, shrugged off his words and moved a few inches away from him. Any farther and her view of the twins would have been obstructed.

  She made an elaborate display of drawing in a big breath.

  “Better,” Cole mouthed.

  She pretended she hadn’t seen him do it.

  Finally finished with his exam, Dan prepared two syringes, each filled with acetaminophen. He proceeded to inject a dose into the upper portion of first Katie’s and then Mikey’s chubby little upper thigh.

  Stacy winced each time the needle went in. The babies didn’t seem to even feel it. There was no change in their whimpering.

  “Why did you just give them shots?” she asked.

  “That was to lower their temperatures. A shot works faster than oral medication.” The doctor carefully threw the syringes he’d used into a self-sealing hazardous waste container. “Their temperatures should be going down by the time you get them back to your ranch,” Dan estimated.

  That was best-case scenario. She wanted to be prepared for what happened if it wasn’t.

  “And if not?” Stacy challenged. “What if their temperatures remain high?”

/>   Dan glanced in her direction for half a second, saying, “You give it a little longer.”

  She needed more than something so vague to go on. “How much longer?” Stacy asked, taking in a jagged breath.

  Dan paused, as if to weigh a few factors, then answered, “An hour, at most. If their fevers still don’t go down—which would be highly unusual—bring them back.”

  “And then what?” she asked.

  “I’ll keep them here for observation,” Dan answered her calmly. He put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “One way or another, we’re going to lick this thing, so don’t worry.”

  She let out a shaky breath. “I hope you’re right, Doctor.”

  “So do I, Stacy. So do I,” he told her with a warm smile. “Wait here,” he said, stepping out of the exam room. “I’ll be right back.”

  “What do you think he’s doing?” Stacy asked, gazing after the doctor. Picking up Katie, she cradled the baby against her and began rocking her.

  “Possibly getting tranquilizers for you,” Cole told her, picking up the other twin.

  She turned to look at him. “Me?”

  He pinned her with a look. “You’re about to go off like a Roman candle. I think he’s worried about you.”

  “He’s worried about me?” she questioned, knowing that Cole was actually referring to himself.

  “Maybe we’re all worried about you. But you’re not going to do these babies—or yourself—any good if you don’t get a grip on yourself, Stacy.”

  She’d just about had it with his advice. “You told me that I wasn’t going to be of any use to them if I didn’t get some sleep. So I got some sleep and look what happened,” she cried, looking down at Katie. “They’re sick.”

  “Stace, your sleeping had nothing to do with them getting sick,” Cole insisted.

  “But if I wasn’t asleep, I would have realized they were coming down with fevers and I could have called the doctor before it got to be this bad.”

  “And if you had wings and a propeller, you could be a plane.”

  She stared at him. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “And neither are you,” Cole told her. He could see that she didn’t understand. “Take a deep breath. Calm down,” he ordered. “The doc’s the best there is. You’ve got to have a little faith, Stacy.”