by Jane Toombs
Talal contemplated his shoes. One of the great things America had come up with was the various types of running and walking shoes—all comfortable. His were an expensive name brand, white with black bands. He’d found Yasmin a pair almost like them, but when he showed them to her, she shook her head. She wanted a pair with little animals on them.
Girls were not always easy to satisfy. Women, either, for that matter. There were flitting butterfly types like Danny’s mother, who were easy to take and easy to leave. And there were types like his wife who, though seemingly submissive, rebelled in secret.
Then there were women like Linnea. Keepers. Women best left alone unless a man had honorable intentions. Even if he did have, he’d think twice before linking himself to such a stubborn one—she’d be nothing but trouble.
But he wanted her, his need for her ran deep and hot, even though every instinct told him to leave her alone. Her response to his kiss had heightened his desire until he could feel it simmer even thinking about her.
Once he’d made certain she was safe with his brother, he’d have to return to Kholi. Confronting his great-uncle with the unpleasant truth, telling him that the child he’d brought to America and delivered was a changeling, was something he didn’t look forward to. Then, of course, he’d be honorbound to find Linnea’s real child whom Malik had kidnapped, no doubt well hidden by the Khalduns, who obviously would have arranged for the required heart surgery. Even if it wasn’t a matter of honor to him, he knew the king would order him to find the child.
And what about little Yasmin there in the other room? If he didn’t bring her back to Kholi with him, his great-uncle would have his hide. He could plead illness on Yasmin’s side, but that would only postpone the inevitable and make it all the more difficult for Linnea to part with Yasmin.
He could adopt Yasmin once they’d returned to Kholi, but though that would ensure her future, it wouldn’t cure Linnea’s broken heart. He had the feeling she’d never forgive him for taking Yasmin away from her even if he found her birth daughter for her.
Linnea had correctly labeled it a no-win situation. In any way, shape or form. There was an Arab proverb his grandmother was fond of quoting: Patience is the key to solutions. Not this time.
He wondered what Grandmother would think of Linnea. Not that she’d ever meet her.
Sighing, he straightened and rose from the chair. When he turned, he saw Linnea sitting in the doorway with something in her lap and realized after a moment that she was sketching him.
“Are you that bored?” he asked, denying his pleasure that she found him interesting enough to draw.
“Actually, yes,” she admitted, rising and holding her sketch close to her so that he couldn’t see it.
They stood facing each other in the no man’s land of the connecting doorway. For some reason he couldn’t seem to find any words, and apparently, neither could she. But the silence pulsed with emotion.
Finally they both started to talk at. once. “Ladies first,” he said.
“Yasmin’s fever is gone,” she told him.
“Good. That means we’ll be in Nevada by tomorrow night.” He didn’t add it couldn’t be soon enough for him. He’d never realized what torture it was to be forced to stay this close to a woman he wanted but knew better than to touch.
“I’m glad,” she said. “Being cooped up...” She didn’t finish, instead turned to prop her sketch pad on the seat of the chair, the drawing of him facing the chair back so he was unable to see it.
“Plenty of space in Carson Valley,” he said inanely.
“I imagine there is.”
Her words weren’t any more intelligent than his, telling him she shared his frustration at this awkward position they’d been thrust into—by him, he realized. They were in this motel at his suggestion.
As though she’d been reading his mind, she said, “I forgot to tell you the phone rang when I was leaving the house. I was afraid to answer it and I didn’t wait for the answering machine to pick up so I don’t know what the call might have been.”
Should he ask her to call and check the message? Most answering machines let you do that.
“I thought of calling to check,” she said, following his train of thought, “but then I decided I’d rather not know.”
“The message might be innocuous.”
“Or not. Whatever it is, I’m in no position at the moment to do anything other than get on that plane for Nevada, so why call?”
“Nothing important you could be missing?”
She shook her head, glancing behind her toward the bed where Yasmin slept, telling him clearer than words what was most important to her.
“I know you don’t understand why I have to keep Yasmin as my daughter,” she said.
“Perhaps it’s because of those few minutes when you believed she was the child you’d borne.”
“More than that. There’s a bond between us. I can’t explain it, but I feel the bond and I think she does, too.” She looked up at him, her tawny eyes wide with appeal. “It’s as though we’ve chosen each other, Yasmin and I.”
Her plea for understanding struck his heart and lodged there. Which would make it all the more difficult to do what must be done.
She gripped his arm. “You do see, don’t you, Talal?”
Didn’t she remember how dangerous it was for them to touch? It took all his willpower not to take her into his arms and hold her close. His immediate motive might be comfort, but he didn’t trust himself to keep it that way once he held her.
He lifted her hand from his arm, held it briefly between his hands and let her go. Any words he could find seemed like lies. The only phrase that came to him was his grandmother’s adage, so he offered it to her. “In Kholi we say, ‘Patience is the key to solutions.”’
She stared at him. “Patience? During this miserable time of waiting I’ve run out of patience. I have my gift daughter. I love her and will fight to keep her, but I want my baby, too. My poor little baby with her congenital heart condition. I’ve so worried that Malik didn’t have the surgery done, though he knew she needed it. Still, he must have, don’t you think?” Tears brightened her eyes.
Those tears snapped his control. He reached for her, wrapping his arms around her, soothing her as he would Yasmin, murmuring in Arabic.
Linnea leaned against him, finding the comfort she needed so desperately in his warmth and strength. For the moment, she caved in to her need for strong arms around her, giving her the feeling she wasn’t alone. She didn’t know the words he said but that didn’t matter, she understood his soothing tone.
After a time, much too soon as far as she was concerned, he held her away, saying, “Did I hear Yasmin?”
Snapping back to reality, she turned and hurried to the bed, Talal following her. Yasmin’s eyes were open. “Ice cream?” she said hopefully.
Linnea and Talal looked at each other and laughed. If she could ask for what she’d been eating when she threw up, Yasmin was definitely better.
Talal said, “Later.”
Yasmin’s mouth drooped. “Aziz?” she murmured. Linnea plucked the pink kitten from the dresser and handed it to the little girl, who cuddled the stuffed animal to her and began whispering to it.
“Telling the cat how mean we are,” Talal said. “What does the doctor say we can give her?”
A few minutes later, Yasmin sat propped up against pillows sipping a lemon-lime soft drink, Aziz in her lap. “Go Nevada?” she asked.
By early evening of the following day, Linnea found herself staring at the red-gold reflection of the setting sun shimmering in the windows of tall buildings in Reno as the plane slanted down between the mountains toward the landing strip.
Soon, with Talal carrying Yasmin, they were on their way to claim their baggage, passing slot machines pulsating with colored lights and making electronic noises. Distracted momentarily, Linnea listened to the occasional rattle of coins on metal, hinting of wins, though it seemed to her that, o
verall, people were putting more money in than was coming out.
Forcing her attention away from the exotic, seductive machines, she asked, “Are you going to rent a car?”
He shook his head. “I made other arrangements.”
She gave him a speaking look, which he ignored. His tendency to keep important details to himself infuriated her. When they reached the baggage claim area, instead of watching the carousel for their luggage, he kept looking around.
From her vantage point near his shoulder, Yasmin looked, too. Suddenly she pointed, saying, “Ya, Talal.”
He turned toward where she pointed and a grin spread over his face. Linnea craned her neck and saw a tall, dark man striding toward them. As he neared and she got a better view of him through the crowd, she drew in her breath in surprise.
She noticed Yasmin staring at the man. The girl bent down to look into Talal’s face, then fixed her gaze on the man again. He was now nearly to them, a man in jeans and cowboy boots who seemed to be a carbon copy of Talal.
“Zeid!” Yasmin crowed. “Zeid, Zeid!”
“That’s Zeid, all right,” Talal said. “That’s my brother.”
His other arrangements, Linnea thought with some asperity. He’d also neglected to mention that Zeid was his identical twin, though he’d evidently told Yasmin.
Zeid belonged to the royal family. She’d wondered before, and the incongruity of it struck her again. Why was a Kholi prince living on a ranch in Carson Valley, Nevada?
Talal thrust Yasmin at her and embraced his brother, kissing him on both cheeks in the fashion of Kholi men. They both turned to Linnea at the same time, and Talal introduced her to his brother.
“Hello, Zeid,” she said, still marveling at their close resemblance.
“Zeid is Talal’s Arabic pronunciation, Linnea,” he said in a voice as American as her own, with no trace of a Kholi accent. “Call me Zed, that’s my name.”
Chapter Five
On the drive back to Zed’s Carson Valley ranch, Yasmin was clearly fascinated with the man Talal told her to call Uncle Zeid. Buckled into the rear of the extended cab of Zed’s pickup with Linnea, she watched every move he made.
For that matter, he interested Linnea as well. His speech and gestures were so typically American as opposed to Talal’s that it blew her mind.
“Ya, Uncle Zeid,” Yasmin said finally. A string of Arabic followed.
He turned to glance over his shoulder at her, saying, “Sorry, honey, I don’t understand. I don’t speak Arabic.”
“She wants to know if you have a little horse,” Talal put in. “I told her about Windy.”
“Oh, the pony. Yes, Yasmin, Windy’s waiting for you to try him out.”.
While Talal translated, Linnea tried to come to terms with the reality of his having an identical twin brother who didn’t know Arabic.
Her confusion grew after they arrived at the ranch. As they piled out of the pickup, she hardly had time to take in the backdrop of the mountains or the tree-shaded rambling house before a toddler came running from the house, followed by a blond woman. The little boy flung himself at Talal, shouting, “Daddy T!”
Talal scooped him up and raised the boy over his head, holding him there momentarily before embracing him. “Yo, Nimr,” he said. “How are you, my son the tiger?”
Watching, Yasmin clutched Linnea’s hand hard. “Nimr?” she whispered.
Apparently nimr meant tiger and the word upset Yasmin. “Danny,” Linnea told her reassuringly, fairly sure she was right. “That’s Danny.”
“Danny?” Yasmin echoed, keeping her gaze fixed on Talal and the boy, her grip relaxing slightly.
The blond woman came up to them. “I’m Karen,” she said, smiling. “You’re Linnea, I know, and—” she crouched down to Yasmin’s level “—you must be Yasmin. Welcome to Nevada.”
Yasmin shrank bashfully against Linnea. Reaching down, Linnea lifted her into her arms. “Hello, Karen,” she said, desperately trying to make sense of the relationships.
“Karen,” Yasmin murmured, peeking at the blond woman.
“She says my name like Talal,” Karen said, chuckling. “He must have taught it to her. But why are we standing out here? Come on in where it’s cool and relax. Hey!” she called to the men, “that goes for you guys, too. Inside!”
A beautifully carved wooden cradle sat on the floor of the living room, its occupant waving tiny arms and legs. Yasmin wriggled from Linnea’s arms and walked to the cradle to peer down at the dark-haired, tawny-eyed baby who stared solemnly back at her.
“Baby,” Linnea said, joining her.
“Her name’s Erin,” Karen told them.
“Danny’s sister?” Linnea asked, hazarding a guess.
Karen hesitated, then finally said, “I guess Talal hasn’t explained. We call her that, but actually Erin and Danny are cousins. She’s named after Danny’s mother.”
Her explanation left Linnea more confused than ever. Apparently it showed because Karen smiled ruefully. “It’s sort of complicated. I’ll start at the beginning when we have a chance to be alone. To be brief, Zed and I are raising Danny even though he’s Talal’s son. Danny’s almost two. Erin is our child and she’s three months old.”
Danny bounded into the room, stopping momentarily when he saw Yasmin standing by the cradle. Marching over to her, he looked from her to the baby and back. “Mine,” he announced.
Karen shook her head. “He’s usually friendly, but he’s also at the possessive stage.”
Yasmin’s only reaction was to stare at him. “Danny,” she said finally.
He smiled at her and grabbed her hand. “Choo-choo,” he said, pulling her toward the far end of the room where toys lay scattered around an unlidded chest. Danny was slightly taller and had a sturdier build than Yasmin.
To Linnea’s surprise, Yasmin trotted after him without a backward glance.
“Talal said she was three—she’s a tiny little thing, isn’t she? She must be small-boned. But she’s exquisite.” Karen gestured toward a chair. “Please make yourself comfortable.”
Warmed by Karen’s friendliness, Linnea began to relax, feeling safe for the first time since Talal had warned her about the media.
“I don’t know how they’ll get along,” she told Karen. “Yasmin doesn’t understand English.”
“Don’t worry. Kids find ways to communicate even when they speak different languages. I noticed it when I was teaching.” She glanced around. “Zed must have taken Talal to the barn to see Najla’s colt. She’s the Arabian mare Talal sent us for a wedding present—a gorgeous creature.”
Linnea’s curiosity got the better of her. “Danny’s mother—” she began.
She got no further before Karen spoke. “Erin was my cousin. She died when Danny was born and I became his guardian.”
Though aware that couldn’t be the entire story, Linnea decided not to probe any further at the moment. The back door opened and a female voice called from the kitchen, “Anybody home?”
“In the living room, Jade,” Karen answered.
A slim woman with chestnut hair and green eyes strode into the room, her entrance charging the air with vitality. “Hi,” she said to Linnea. “I’m Jade, the twins’ sister.” Tilting her head to one side, she examined Linnea. “Hmm, I can see why you might get to Talal. Can’t you, Karen?”
“Don’t embarrass Linnea,” Karen chided.
“Well, she has and you know it.” Focusing her attention on Linnea again, she added, “Don’t mind me, I’ m harmless.”
Karen rolled her eyes, but all she said was, “I think the guys are out in the barn if you want to say hello.”
“Much as I like horses, I can wait. Though it might be a long one. Once those two get together...” She broke off, walked to the cradle and knelt next to it, touching Erin’s tiny fingers. A moment later Danny was beside her.
“Mine,” he said, as he had to Yasmin.
“Yes, I know she’s your sister, but can’t I be A
untie Jade to her like I am to you?”
While Danny appeared to think this over, Yasmin started to walk past the cradle on her way back to Linnea. Jade reached out an arm and stopped her. “Hello, Yasmin,” she said. “I’m Jade.”
Yasmin looked at her. “Jaida?” she said uncertainly.
“I can see we’ll have to do some retraining,” Jade told her. “Talal and his Jaida.” She smiled at Yasmin and stroked her hair. “Jade, honey,” she murmured. “Just plain Jade.”
Linnea thought “plain Jade” was a gross understatement. Jade was as attractive a woman as the twins were men. She started to call to Yasmin, then held back as Danny reached for Yasmin’s hand. “Mine,” he said, frowning at his aunt.
As Linnea and Karen tried not to laugh, Jade scowled back at Danny, and in that moment, the two looked so much alike they could have been mother and son.
Jade reached and tousled Danny’s hair, saying, “Kid, sooner or later, you’re going to have to learn to share.”
“Why don’t we feed Yasmin and Danny now,” Karen suggested. “Then maybe we can eat in peace later.” As she rose from her chair, the baby started to fuss.
“You go ahead and take care of Erin,” Jade said. “Linnea and I will handle the other kids.” So saying, Jade herded the children ahead of her toward the kitchen.
Linnea joined her, thinking about Jade’s initial remark to her. What had led Jade to believe Talal might be “taken” with her?
Unsure what to feed Yasmin, Linnea settled for the chocolate milk she found in the refrigerator and some bread and jam.
“Ice cream?” Yasmin asked.
“So she does speak some English,” Jade said.
“Very little. About as many words as I remember in Arabic.”
“Ice cream,” Danny repeated.
“Ice cream later,” Jade said. “After you eat my wonderful omelette.”
“Later,” Yasmin echoed. “Badayn.”
Evidently liking the sound of the word, Danny repeated it. “Badayn, badayn.”
Yasmin giggled, joined by Danny.
“Good grief, is she already teaching him Arabic?” Jade looked to Linnea for confirmation.