The Cowboy's Twin Surprise

by Cathy McDavid

  Chapter Eight

  “No. I’ll do it.” Spence stepped in front of Mel Hartman and prevented her from lifting the mare’s right front hoof.

  She braced her hands on her hips and forced an unconvincing scowl. “I’m a veterinarian. Specializing in large animals.”

  “You’re pregnant. I’m not taking any chances.”

  He was confident neither of his former racing mares would kick or bite. He’d securely confined this one in the wash rack, restricting her mobility. But accidents happened, and he would never forgive himself if Mel was injured. Then there was Frankie. She’d refuse to ever speak to him again.

  “You tell me what you want,” he instructed Mel, “and I’ll do the heavy lifting.”

  “I’ll be fine,” she insisted.

  He didn’t budge.

  When he’d sat with Frankie’s sisters in the booth at the café the other day, he hadn’t noticed Mel’s slightly protruding stomach behind the tabletop. Now, he regretted calling her. Because she refused to leave and insisted on completing the exams, he was monitoring her every move—and would willingly take a kick to his most sensitive places in order to spare her.

  She narrowed her gaze. “You know, I’m going to have to get close to feel for the foal.”

  “Maybe we should tranquilize her.”

  “I’m not giving her any unnecessary drugs.”

  “Do you have an associate I can call instead?”

  “Spence.” Her annoyance promptly evaporated, and she started to laugh. “All right. We’ll do things your way.” She indicated the mare’s hoof. “Let’s take a look. I noticed she favored that foot when you brought her out from the stall. She might have an abscess or contracted a case of thrush during the long trailer ride.”

  When nothing appeared amiss with the hoof, Mel finally convinced Spence to let her near enough to run her hand down the mare’s leg and also feel her underside. But only from behind the wash rack railing, and with him standing right there.

  Fortunately, and predictably, nothing happened short of the mare cranking her head around to inspect Mel’s hair.

  “She’s a beauty, Spence.” Mel evaluated the mare from head to tail. “And the foal appears fine. Good size and moving around.”

  “Should we have an ultrasound done?”

  “I honestly don’t believe it’s necessary. She shows no visible signs that the pregnancy is in distress. Of course, if you really want one, I’ll come back tomorrow with the machine. But in my opinion, you’re wasting your money.”

  “What about her limp?”

  Mel tapped a finger on her chin, considering. “I don’t see cause for concern. Maybe she simply pulled a muscle during the long drive. I suggest you take her on some easy walks for the next few days and see how she is after that. Call me if there’s no improvement.”

  Spence’s other mare passed her exam with high marks—and only a few grumbles from Mel, when Spence intervened. Relieved, he returned the mare to the stables and then met up with Mel at her truck.

  She already had an invoice prepared and handed it to him.

  Spence read the total. “You didn’t charge me enough.”

  “I gave you the family discount.”

  “But I’m not family.”

  “You’re my nieces’ father.”

  He might have been more than that. Like her brother-in-law, for instance. But after last night, and the way he and Frankie had left things, he wasn’t sure anymore.

  “Thanks.” After pulling his wallet from his rear jeans pocket, he withdrew enough bills to cover the invoice.

  Mel must have read something in his expression, for she said, “Frankie mentioned you told the girls last night that you’re their father.”

  “Yeah. We did.” Was their conversation casual or had Frankie complained about Spence to her sister? “I think it went well.”

  “She said the girls had more questions this morning at breakfast, but nothing she couldn’t answer.”

  “What kind of questions?”

  Spence propped an elbow on the hood of Mel’s truck. They’d always gotten along in a younger-sister-of-his-girlfriend way, and he respected her opinion. Hadn’t she warned him that last time not to leave, saying Frankie wouldn’t be happy and might break up with him? He’d chosen not to listen, convinced he could sweet-talk Frankie as usual.

  “Mostly about your family.” Mel finished stowing her medical supplies while they chatted. “According to Frankie, Paige and Sienna are fascinated with their new relatives. They asked when they were seeing you again.”

  “Really?” That was better than he’d hoped. “I want to see them again, too.” Today, if possible.

  Mel looked at him with interest. “You’re happy about being a dad.”

  “I am. I admit, it took me a day to get used to the idea.”

  “That kind of news is a shock when you’re not expecting it.” She patted her belly. “Aaron needed time to process after my big announcement.”

  “The girls are growing on me. Fast.”

  “Have you told your folks yet?”

  “I’m calling them after you leave.” He’d texted his mom this morning, asking when she and his dad would both be available.

  “Oh, good. They’ll be thrilled.”

  Still convinced she’d undercharged him, Spence watched Mel pull away. He debated phoning or texting Frankie about coming by later in the day. His mother was bound to ask for pictures of the girls, and he’d forgotten to take any yesterday. Plus he wanted to give Frankie his child support payment.

  Right. Who was he kidding? Certainly not himself. He wanted to talk to Frankie about their argument last night.

  After considerable thought, he’d decided he might have been too quick assuming that, because the girls reacted well initially, they’d easily adapt, moving forward. On the other hand, he wasn’t wrong about Frankie’s attempts to, if not keep him at arm’s length, then resist his involvement.

  Granted, he’d made some mistakes in the past. Let her down. Disappointed her. But no matter how valid she’d believed her reasons were, she’d been seven kinds of wrong not to tell him about the girls. All those lost years he could never get back.

  Removing his phone from his shirt pocket, he noted he’d missed a text from Cara Dempsey reminding him of the adoption event committee meeting tomorrow. Typing as he walked, he sent her a return message confirming he’d be there for at least part of the meeting.

  He might have regretted volunteering if not for Cara’s enthusiasm and his support of what he considered a worthy cause.

  Finding a secluded bench behind the stables, where he could sit in the shade and talk to his parents in relative privacy, he leaned back, stretched out his legs and dialed their number.

  “Spence, sweetie!” His mother’s cheery voice greeted him after the second ring.

  “Hi, Mom. How you doing?”

  “Your dad’s bursitis flared up. He’s resting on the couch. I just put a fresh ice pack on his shoulder and gave him some more ibuprofen. He refuses to see the doctor, of course.” They chatted briefly, until Spence asked her to find his dad and put the phone on speaker so they could both hear him.

  A minute later, his dad’s booming voice filled Spence’s ear. “Your mares arrive yet?”

  “They did. Yesterday.” Before his dad could ramble on, Spence said, “I have some news for you and Mom. Big news.”

  “You and Frankie are back together!” his mom blurted in an excited voice. She’d always adored Frankie and was devastated over their breakup.

  “No. But it does involve Frankie.”

  “Oh?”

  “I’m not sure how to say this, so I’ll just come out with it. Are you both sitting down? If not, grab a chair.”

  “Just te
ll us, son,” his dad insisted, “before your mother has a stroke.”

  “Frankie has twin daughters. They’re almost four.”

  Complete silence followed for several seconds.

  “Spence?” His mom’s voice shook. “What are you saying?”

  He swallowed, fighting a sudden tightness in his chest. He hadn’t realized how affected he’d be, telling them.

  “Their names are Paige and Sienna. And I’m their father.”

  “What? My God. You can’t be serious.” His mother started babbling something to his father.

  “Mom. Calm down. I can’t understand you.”

  “How is this possible? Why didn’t she tell you?”

  “It’s a long story. She didn’t find out she was pregnant until after I left.”

  His dad cleared his throat. “I hate to say it, but are you sure these girls are yours? I tend to think most women would hunt down the man who got them pregnant.”

  “That’s a part of the long story.”

  His mom interrupted him. “You can tell us later. I want to hear about Paige and Sienna.” She spoke the girls’ names with something like reverence.

  For the next fifteen minutes, Spence recounted meeting the twins for the first time, and their day yesterday. As expected, his mother insisted on hearing every detail. Twice, she stifled a soft sob.

  “I’m hoping to see them again tonight,” he said, and promised to send pictures.

  His father, who’d been mostly quiet, cleared his throat again. “Have you thought about getting an attorney?”

  “Frankie and I have agreed on child support payments.”

  “Look, son. You sound happy and your mother’s beside herself with joy. But you really should obtain legal advice. Frankie did hide your children from you for years. It’s a little suspicious, if you ask me.”

  “Do you have to bring that up now?” his mom demanded.

  Spence could imagine her glaring at his dad and possibly punching him lightly on his unaffected arm. “It’s okay, Mom. Dad’s right. I’d be stupid not to consult an attorney.”

  Frankie could change her mind. Last night was a good example.

  “I’m sure Warren can recommend someone,” his dad said, referring to the friend and attorney who handled his parents’ personal matters.

  “I’d appreciate that.” Spence stood and brushed dirt from his jeans, left there from the old bench. “Look, I hate to cut this short, but I have an appointment to look at a rental house.”

  Sooner or later, he was going to have to find more permanent digs than Eddie’s spare room.

  “Call us tonight.”

  “Yes, Mom.” He knew better than to refuse. “Love you guys.”

  He’d barely hung up when his phone chimed. Frankie’s number appearing on the screen started his pulse racing.

  Placing the phone to his ear, he said, “I was going to call you later.”

  “Hi,” she began tentatively. “I was wondering, are you busy tonight?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Any chance you could come over?”

  “Absolutely.” Apparently she wasn’t that put out with him.

  “I got a call. A big catering job. Fifty pounds of brisket for a VIP luncheon tomorrow.”

  “Whoa. Kind of last minute, isn’t it?”

  “They’re willing to pay extra. I need...” She paused again. “Help. Sam and Ronnie left earlier for the rodeo, and Mel’s busy. Seeing as you’re my business partner, I—”

  Spence didn’t let her finish. “I’ll be there. What time?”

  “I’m heading to Scottsdale as soon as I’m off work. There’s a wholesale supplier with quality product on Thomas Road. I prefer buying my meat from them. The girls can go with me. They’ve been before. Can you meet us at the house around seven?”

  “No problem.”

  “And bring whatever personal stuff you need. Smoking brisket is a twelve to fourteen hour job. You’ll be staying all night.”

  * * *

  DON’T LOOK! DON’T you dare.

  Frankie forced her gaze away from her phone, refusing to check the time. Spence had said he’d show by seven. Sooner or later, she had to start trusting him. A little at least. About things like punctuality.

  She disliked the renewed friction between them and was baffled at his inability to see reason. The girls absolutely had to come first. If he charmed them, like he’d always charmed her, then took off again as was his habit, they’d be devastated. Their relationship, so new and tentative, would end up in shambles. If that happened, Frankie would never forgive him.

  “The heck with it,” she grumbled, and snatched her phone off the patio table. Tapping the screen, she activated the display. It showed 7:06 p.m. He was late again. “Figures.”

  Setting the phone back down, she checked the temperature on her two smokers, added the meat and shut the doors with a satisfied nod. Before long, rising smoke would drift away on the mild breeze. Her neighbors were always stopping Frankie to comment on the delicious aromas coming from her backyard whenever she and the girls were out walking the dogs.

  Don’t look.

  Naturally, she did. Why hadn’t Spence answered her text? Knowing she’d be outside and unable to hear the doorbell, she’d told him to come though the side gate. Should she call?

  An angry squeal had her turning toward the grassy area where the girls played with the dogs. Correction, had been playing with the dogs. Bozo and Miss Muffet now sat in front of the French doors, pleading to go inside and escape the mayhem.

  Sienna squealed again, the result of Paige throwing a handful of sand at her. Last year, Frankie’s dad had built the sandbox for the girls as a birthday gift. They loved it. Frankie, not so much. She was tired of cleaning sand out of shoes and clothes and mouths and, yes, hair.

  Slinging the dish towel she’d been using as a hot pad over her shoulder, she marched across the yard. Thank goodness she’d gotten both smokers going before this latest interruption. “Paige! What have I told you about throwing sand?”

  She stared up at Frankie with unabashed innocence. “It was an accident, Mommy.”

  Right. Just like last week.

  “Stay put.” She leveled a finger at Paige. “Don’t move.” Pivoting, she reached for Sienna. “You’re all right, sweetheart. It’s only sand and will wash out.”

  Sienna burst into sobs. Frankie brushed as much sand as she could from her sensitive twin’s hair and clothes. Using the end of the dish towel, she wiped her face and mouth.

  “Mommy, don’t.” Sienna pushed Frankie’s hand away.

  Rather than reprimand her, Frankie ceased her efforts. Sienna was too young to realize she wasn’t mad at Frankie but rather her sister.

  “He’s here!” Paige hollered, just as the dogs raised the alarm. “Our daddy.”

  Our daddy? Not quite the same as “Daddy,” but close. Perhaps they were easing into it.

  Spence closed the gate behind him and, waving hello, crossed the yard, a bulging gym bag at his side. Hmm. While Frankie had told him to bring what he needed, she’d meant a toothbrush and a clean shirt for tomorrow. He appeared to have packed an entire change of clothes, a pair of shoes, and possibly pajamas. Did he need pajamas to sleep on the couch?

  “Hiya, angel face.” He stopped and gave Paige a brief hug.

  She beamed. Then again, she was the twin who loved attention.

  Sienna’s sobs instantly ceased, and she slowly approached Spence, determined to be included.

  “What happened to you?” Instead of hugging her, which was a smart move, as Sienna often shied from physical contact, he lowered his face to her level. “You’ve been crying.”

  “Paige threw sand at me,” she murmured.

  “It was an accident.”
Paige feigned contrition.

  “Did you apologize?” Spence asked.

  “Um...”

  “She didn’t.” Sienna glared at her sister.

  “Do you think you should?” He raised his eyebrows.

  “I’m sorry.” Paige kicked at the ground with the toe of her sneaker.

  “I brought you something.” Spence set down his gym bag and unzipped it.

  Frankie inched closer. Was he trying to buy their daughters’ affection? The idea didn’t sit well with her.

  Reaching into the bag, he withdrew two coloring books and held them out to the girls. “One has puppies, one has kittens.”

  Sienna squealed again, only with delight. For once, she beat her sister to the punch and grabbed the kitten coloring book. Luckily, Paige was equally delighted with the puppy one.

  Spence’s hand went into the bag again. “I figured you already have crayons, but I brought a box, anyway.”

  Frankie might have been amused or charmed if she wasn’t busy having reservations. More than once when they were dating, he’d added a token gift to his winning smile when sweet-talking her out of being mad. Kind of like when he’d brought ice cream.

  “Mommy, look!” Paige whirled and held up her gift. “A coloring book.”

  “I see. What do you say?”

  “Thank you,” both girls chorused.

  Spence grinned. “You’re very welcome.”

  “Come on, Sienna!” Paige grabbed her sister’s arm.

  “Don’t run off just yet.” Spence plucked his phone from his shirt pocket. “I want to take some pictures for your grandparents.”

  “I haven’t had a chance to make those copies,” Frankie said. “Sorry.”

  “No worries. You’ve had a busy day. And from the looks of it—” he nodded at the smokers “—a busy night ahead.”

  “Yeah.”

  Spence patted the girls’ heads, as naturally as if he’d been doing it all their lives. “Let’s go over there. The light’s better.”

  Paige and Sienna skipped after him, Paige chatting up a storm.

  They were adapting quickly, Frankie mused. That, or Spence was a yet-to-wear-off novelty.