by Kaitlyn Rice
“Wyatt’s childhood would be just as miserable with all of those inappropriate women circulating in and out of his life.”
“Inappropriate women?”
Abby smiled sadly. “Don’t you realize? Every woman you date has some strange personality flaw that allows you to keep your distance.”
He scowled. “Everyone has flaws, Abby, and I didn’t keep my distance from you.”
She ignored him. “I can provide a stable life for both twins. Please, leave Wyatt here.”
“I wish it were that easy,” he said. “But I love both of those babies, too. And, for whatever reason, my brother asked me to raise Wyatt.”
“Wouldn’t it be better for everyone if you just visited often, like a favorite uncle?”
Jack’s narrowed eyes pierced hers as he shook his head, just once, from left to right. “I can’t become my dad.” He let his gaze fall down to some spot on the table and said, “All things considered, Wyatt will be fine with me. At least I have a healthy attitude toward the opposite sex.”
A healthy attitude? She frowned.
“If you never learn to trust a man, you’ll wind up becoming the hermit you seem to think you are now,” he said. “Would that be a healthy thing for a boy to experience?”
She recognized the truth, and couldn’t answer.
Jack ran a palm along his jawline. “I’ll start packing tonight. Will you gather Wyatt’s things?”
She nodded.
He left to head down the hall toward his rooms, and she remained in the kitchen trying to think, but not able to think at all.
She felt as if she’d passed beyond heartache to numbness—just as she had on the night of her sister’s death.
Except this time her wounds were self-inflicted.
Abby took the soup bowls to the sink and ran water over them. As she opened a cabinet to gather half of the baby bottles and set them out on the countertop, she was very aware that her composure was superficial—as if she were a puppet on a string. She knew she’d remember every detail about tonight.
After she’d boxed up every downstairs toy and blanket, every spoon and dish and hat that she thought Wyatt might need, she stacked them in the front foyer and tiptoed past Jack’s closed bedroom door on her way back to the kitchen.
She stared out at the greenhouse plants, running through a mental list of all the places in the house where Wyatt’s things were stored.
There was just the nursery left, but she’d have to pack those things in the morning, after the twins were awake.
When she remembered the box of infant clothes in the cellar, she knew it was right that Jack should take those, too. He’d be the one to guide Wyatt into adulthood. He’d be the one to tell stories about babyhood’s sweet memories.
She also knew she could trust him to handle that gently and well. During the past few months she’d seen Jack deal with enough people to know that he was full of integrity and kindness, as well as charm.
The boy would grow up strong, sturdy and caring under Jack’s tutelage. He’d miss growing up in the same house as his sister, but he’d benefit from his bond with a good man.
Before Jack left, she would talk to him about keeping the twins in close contact. Perhaps they could grow up like cousins, or the children of amicably divorced parents. They needed every opportunity to be close to one another.
She knew Jack would agree.
She dragged the box up the cellar steps and set it in the middle of the living room floor. As the clock ticked toward midnight, she knelt beside the carton and meticulously separated blue from pink, and his from hers. She made separate stacks of neatly folded clothes all around her on the floor.
When the box was empty, she began to put Wyatt’s things back inside, and noticed the edge of a pink envelope sticking out from under the bottom flap.
Frowning, she tugged at it. The scent of roses drifted up and caught her by surprise. Paige must have put the envelope in here.
Abby cried out when she turned it over. In her sister’s round lettering, the envelope was addressed to the lawyer’s office. There was a stamp, carefully placed, but no cancellation marks. The letter must have gotten lost in this box. Paige probably never knew she hadn’t sent it.
With trembling hands, Abby turned it back over and slid an index finger under the flap. Gingerly, she pulled out the familiar stationery, unfolded it and read:
Dear Abby,
A few days ago, Brian and I came to an agreement about how to handle our will, and the intent of this letter is to explain my decisions. You are a wonderful aunt. You’ve been around from the minute the twins were born, and I know you’ll be a constant source of love in their lives. I also know that if I die, you’ll be as good a mother as I would have been. We’re asking you to raise Rosie.
But here’s the hard part—Brian wants Wyatt to go to his brother. Jack will do a good job. He’s always been an attentive brother to Brian. I know you so well. You gave up on some dreams, after your divorce. If we leave everything to you, you’ll put all your energy into the twins and the farm. That’s admirable, but I hate thinking about you missing out on loving a good man. It’s a joyful part of life—and I know you still want it. We asked Jack to take responsibility for the farm for a year, in hopes that you two would develop a friendship, and realize Rosie and Wyatt need to grow up knowing one another. I hope that happens. Most of all, love Rosie. Give her everything you think she needs. But take time for you, too. For my sake.
I love you—Paige
Abby wiped away a few tears, then slowly got up and crossed the room with the letter. She sank down on the sofa and read it again. After the fifth or sixth reading, she tucked the letter back into its envelope and leaned forward to slide it between two magazines on the coffee table.
She smiled as she rested against the sofa cushions and stared at the pink tip of the envelope jutting out. Her sister had been four years younger, but she’d always had a way of helping Abby put things in perspective.
Even now.
The faint sound of a drawer sliding shut caught Abby’s attention, and she listened intently. Jack must still be packing. She chuckled out loud and put a hand to her chest when she felt her heart pounding, heavy and fast.
She felt okay about sending Wyatt with Jack, because she knew Jack would take the utmost care in raising him. Despite the lifestyle he’d led, Jack was an honorable man.
He was a man who wouldn’t have been insincere when he said he loved her. He would have meant it.
And her childhood dream of the country home, teeming with kids and animals, would never be complete without the smiling man who now had Jack’s face. Her dream had evolved.
As she started for the hallway, she glanced down at the edge of her sister’s letter. She’d remember to put that away for safekeeping, later.
Right now, she had something more important to do.
JACK CLOSED THE LID on another box and set it near the bedroom door. He’d stared at the doorknob every time he was within reach of it, but he always returned to his packing.
His excuses for going out and finding Abby hadn’t been good enough, until now.
Now that he’d had a chance to think about things, he realized he’d been wrong to tell her she couldn’t keep that baby boy.
She would put her entire heart into the task of raising him. Although it tore Jack apart to give up any of the three people he considered his family, he could live with some sort of visitation agreement.
But Rosie needed her brother and Abby needed her babies.
He picked up the tie to Abby’s robe, which he’d meant to return weeks ago, and finally turned the knob.
She was standing in the hallway. “May I come in?” she asked politely.
Jack pulled the door open wider, and frowned as she stepped around boxes and suitcases to perch on the edge of his bed. When she patted the spot next to her, he sat down and handed her her belt.
Then she handed him the porcelain rosebud he’d given her mon
ths ago, in the beginning. “Do you remember what you said when you gave me this?”
He smiled as he accepted it, and felt the first glimmer of hope. He couldn’t remember his exact words, but he knew they’d had something to do with honoring the occasion of their moving in together.
He shook his head. He needed her to tell him.
“You said it commemorated a new beginning,” she reminded him, with eyes so full of feeling they’d turned to burnished gold. “I’m giving it back to you, to share.”
He nodded, and felt the hope grow.
“Let’s start over,” she said. “I love you, Jack.”
He didn’t answer, but only because she didn’t give him a chance. She tackled him with a kiss that sent them both sprawling across the bed, and nearly made him forget he had something to ask.
As soon as he could, he reached over to put the rosebud on his pillow, then stood to remove the velvet box from his jeans pocket. Although he’d felt its uncomfortable bulk all evening, he hadn’t taken it out.
Now he knew why.
He knelt beside the bed, pulling the ring from the box and holding it on his open palm. “Will you take this?”
She did.
“I chose this ring for a reason,” he said. “The marquis diamond in the center signifies permanence, and also the perfection of a decision that’s right.”
She touched the stones. “And the others?”
He looked at the two satellite diamonds next to the marquis. “The twins,” he said. “Because I want all of us to be together. I love you, too, Abby. All of you. Will you marry me?”
She slid down to the floor, answering on the way. “Yes,” she said, with no hesitation.
She felt good in his arms, and even better on his lips. He’d managed to kick a couple of boxes out of the way before Abby absorbed his full attention.
“We may have to have the ring adjusted, though,” she murmured.
“It doesn’t fit?” He sat up, and realized she was still holding it. He took it back long enough to slip it on her finger.
“Oh, it fits,” she said with a brilliant smile. “But we may have to add a stone or two, later.”
He raised an eyebrow and let his gaze drift down to her belly.
She laughed. “No, not this soon. Probably not, anyway. But would you mind another baby?”
He pulled her close again and answered against her ear, “I was counting on it.”
EPILOGUE
Fifteen months later
ABBY CARRIED ROSIE’S CAKE across to the table and set it down next to Wyatt’s, and smiled at the mixture of voices drifting in from the living room. The last time she’d checked, her dad was on the sofa talking with Zuzu about herbal cold remedies, her mom was trading chili recipes with Earl Hauser, and Sharon was on the floor beside Jack’s mother, playing with the twins and their train set.
The company filled the living room, and Abby’s heart. She knew each of today’s visitors would want to celebrate many of her family’s milestones through the years. As soon as Jack got home, this year’s first party could begin.
She scanned the decorations one last time, making sure every balloon and streamer was in place, and then sank four candles into the frosting. Two red ones for Wyatt and two purple ones for Rosie.
She and Jack had agreed that they would always acknowledge each twin’s individuality, but so far, Rosie and Wyatt wanted everything to match their clothes, their toys, even today’s birthday cakes.
Abby had managed to sneak in a hint of variety with the candles and cake flavors, but the outsides were fashioned into twin dog faces. Puppies had become a common topic around the farmhouse lately.
The sound of the back door opening sent Abby scooting across the room, and she met Jack at the door to peer into the crate. “Oh, she’s adorable,” she whispered, reaching in to pull out a frisky black-and-white puppy and cradle it atop her rounded belly. “They’ll love her.”
“I thought of the perfect name on my way home,” Jack said as he put the crate on the floor.
Abby grinned. “For the baby or the dog?”
“You still don’t want to take Zuzu up on her bid to name the baby after her?” Jack asked, pulling both Abby and the puppy into a hug.
When he let go, Abby stepped back and waited while he took off his coat and hung it near the door, and then she grinned broadly.
“When Zuzu offered her feng shui expertise to bring good fortune to our home and marriage, and said it was her wedding gift to the two of us, I didn’t have the heart to tell her ‘no,’” Abby said in a low voice. “Through the months of decorating she became a friend, but she’s still a mystery. A few minutes ago, I heard her tell Sharon that Zuzu was just a name she made up to sound exotic.”
“It is?” Jack glanced toward the entry to the living room and lowered his voice. “What’s her real name?”
Abby laughed. “She wouldn’t say.”
“Hmm. Well, we still have a month or two to negotiate baby names,” he said. “I was talking about the dog, anyway, what do you think of Diamond Lil?”
Abby studied the puppy. “It’s perfect,” she pronounced.
“It goes along with Calamity and Wild Bill.”
He took the puppy from her arms and returned it to the crate. “There’s another reason for the name.”
“Why am I not surprised?” Abby chuckled as he swept her into a stronger embrace. “What’s the other reason?”
“A diamond is something that can’t be easily divided.”
Abby answered with a kiss meant to be short and sweet. Every adult in the other room had been asked to keep the twins occupied and out of the kitchen, but they all must have heard Jack’s voice by now.
At any moment, one of the twins could break away and make a beeline toward the kitchen, with a trail of adults behind. Abby and Jack needed to go out and start the party.
But his lips lingered and deepened, and lingered a little more. Finally, Abby laughed and pulled away, whispering, “Jack! My parents are in there.”
“So’s my mom,” he answered. “But it’s all right, they all watched us dance at our wedding.”
He bent down to pick up the crate, and then offered an elbow. “Are you ready, Mrs. Kimball?”
She reached out to straighten the bow on the side of the crate, and looped her hand through the arm of the man she loved. “I’m ready.” Enough time had passed to ease the first wondrous days of their marriage into responsibilities and routines, but Abby still felt thrilled at Jack’s touch.
Gently, she pressed her fingers into his muscles, silently acknowledging her feelings one more time. She’d always feel lucky to enter a room beside him.
As they rounded the corner into the living room, Wyatt spotted the crate and started running toward it, and Rosie stared from her spot on the floor. “Puppy home?” she asked in her sweet, high voice.
The dog’s answering yip made everyone laugh.
And Abby knew it was an entire family, who’d found a home.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-7011-8
TEN ACRES AND TWINS
Copyright © 2003 by Kathy Hagan
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