Even if she would admit to having feelings for him, what if she couldn’t get past the fact that Zach had fathered his girls? She’d been great with them at the rodeo, but that was before she’d learned the truth. Would she still be so good with them? If not, how could he have a relationship with a woman who couldn’t accept his children? And Jen had reason enough to turn her back on them—walking, talking reminders of the pain she was trying to forget.
But talk about jumping the gun. He had nothing to worry about. The last thing she wanted was a relationship. She’d said it straight out; she was putting up all the roadblocks. In spite of her protest that she’d made a mistake and probably wouldn’t have stayed with Zach, Grady didn’t completely buy it. Or the fact that she no longer loved the man she’d married and lost.
Grady believed she now knew Zach wasn’t the guy she’d thought. But as the town sheriff, he’d seen smart women make the same mistake over and over. It was called dysfunctional, and domestic violence was the result. She and Zach had never gotten a chance to get that far, so Jen had never seen the violent side of him. And she’d had ten years to remember only the good stuff. That was a roadblock he didn’t think he could hurdle.
The hell of it was, he was damned attracted to her. Maybe for the first time in his life he was thinking about a lifetime with one woman. His own happily ever after. It was a chance he might be willing to take. If she felt half of what he did, she’d be willing, too. But she’d shut him down. That meant she must still be carrying a torch for Zach.
“Grady?”
He felt a hand on his arm, and gazed into a pair of pretty green eyes. Correction: pretty, worried green eyes.
“Hmm?”
“You zoned out.”
“Yeah. I’ve got some things on my mind.”
“Of course.” She set her half-full glass of water on the counter beside him. “That’s my cue to leave.”
When he wanted her to stay so badly, the last thing he’d do was give her a reason to go. But maybe it was for the best. No point in beating his head against the wall.
“What time did you say the appointment is? With Dr. Morgan?”
“Two o’clock. First one after lunch.”
“Okay.”
“Do you want me to help you talk to the girls? Prepare them?”
He shook his head. “I’ll take care of it.”
He needed her legal expertise. But that was business. No way would he make it personal. Counting on Jensen Stevens wasn’t something he needed to get used to.
Chapter Eight
While staring intently at her computer screen, Jen heard the whisper of her office door opening. A warm breeze darting in from outside fluttered her hair and she glanced up. Then did a double take. Kasey and Stacey O’Connor stood in front of her, each of them holding some kind of ceramic figure in their arms.
“Hi, Jensen,” one of them said.
Was it Stacey or Kasey? Until one of them brushed the hair off their forehead to show the scar or lack of one, she couldn’t tell.
“H-hi,” she said, swiveling her chair away from the computer to face them.
When she’d met the twins at the championships, she’d been captivated. They were completely adorable. But this was the first time she’d seen them since learning that Zach was their biological father. She was suddenly and completely nervous.
The two little faces—solemn big brown eyes, turned-up noses splashed with freckles, and full mouths with a lovely and very defined upper lip—were identical. They had the same shade of golden-blond hair. But they couldn’t have been dressed more differently. One in denim shorts, a T-shirt and sneakers. The other wearing a frilly pink sundress and white sandals. One adjusted her baseball hat, turning the bill backward to reveal a scar at her hairline. Okay. Now she was getting somewhere. Thank goodness Grady didn’t dress them in identical outfits. He let them express their individuality. Stacey was the tomboy.
Jen guessed the baseball equipment she’d seen strewn around Grady’s family room the day before belonged to Stacey. Did she just like sports? Or was she very athletic? Zach had been a national champion bull rider before he was killed. Had both girls inherited their father’s ability? She meant Zach. Grady was their father. Good Lord, this was awkward—and confusing. Fortunately she hadn’t said any of that out loud. But the two girls continued to stare at her. And the stare was turning into puppy-dog eyes.
She folded her hands together and rested them on her desk. “Does your dad know where you are?”
Stacey glanced at her sister. When she looked back, she had an answer. “He brought us to town.”
Did the two of them have telepathy? ESP? She’d heard communication between twins could border on extrasensory.
“Where is he? Your dad,” she clarified.
“In his office,” they said together.
“Where are you supposed to be?”
Two sets of thin shoulders rose in a shrug. Nonresponsive. Grady was the overprotective type under the best of circumstances, and lately circumstances had been downright lousy. She would bet her Beemer he didn’t know these two had slipped next door without permission. Was that the beginnings of a wild streak? Maybe a trait they’d gotten from Zach? Did they have traces of their biological father? How big a role did environment play in raising good kids? Or was this just a response to their world turning upside down? Grady had probably talked to them yesterday just as he’d said he would.
She shook her head. This whole train of thought was a wreck waiting to happen. Not to mention counterproductive. The man she’d married hadn’t been perfect and he’d kept parts of his personality hidden from her. But he wasn’t a monster. She’d have seen if he were and never would have loved him. Still, it was oddly comforting that the twins’ physical appearance favored their mother.
“You’re supposed to be with your dad in his office, aren’t you?”
The two looked at each other again, somehow assessing whether or not to come clean. Meeting her gaze again, they’d apparently decided to cut their losses. “We had to see you,” Kasey volunteered dramatically.
“It’s really important, Jensen,” Stacey added.
“Okay. What can I do for you?”
The girls put the ceramic figures on her desk. Studying them more closely, she realized the things were shaped like pigs and had a slit in the top for coins. They were piggy banks. What the heck was going on?
“Girls,” she said, looking at each in turn, “you’re going to have to tell me what you want.”
Stacey said, “We want to hire you for our lawyer.”
Jen was glad her chair sat firmly beneath her fanny. If she’d been standing, the shock of that statement could have landed her on the floor. Struggling not to show them the reaction, she smiled.
“Okay. Why?”
“Daddy talked to us.”
Good. Grady O’Connor was a man of his word. A brave man of his word to discuss the situation with two little girls all by himself. But she needed to know what words he’d used with them.
Always best not to jump in with both feet, especially when there could be quicksand. Get all the info possible before digging herself in deeper. Or let something slip. She couldn’t assume he’d discussed the lawsuit with them. “What did your dad say?”
Kasey glanced at her sister. “Stuff.”
Jen’s mouth twitched and she wanted to laugh at this comic exchange. But she managed to maintain a serious expression she hoped matched theirs. For one to gather information, it had to be available and relatively specific. “Stuff” took in a lot of territory.
“Could you be more precise? Tell me exactly what your dad said?”
One shoulder beneath the strap of Kasey’s pink sundress went up.
Stacey wasn’t so taciturn. “He said he’s not our dad. He said our real dad’s brother wants to take us away from him. He said we got an appointment with some lady doctor today and she’s gonna gag us with a cotton ball on a stick.” When she stopped, her chin t
rembled.
That did it. Jen stood and rounded her desk. She didn’t ordinarily make a habit of hugging her clients. But, damn it, this was different.
The girls molded themselves to her—one on each side, with their arms squeezing her waist. She put her arms around them, hugging them back as tightly as she could. No matter what, they were children. Confused about what was going on. Darn it, she wished Grady had let her be there when he’d talked to them. But she couldn’t really blame him. Because of who she was—who she’d married.
She squeezed their shoulders. “What do you want to know, girls?”
“Is that man our uncle?” Stacey’s hat fell off when she looked up. “Is our dad really our dad?”
“Can you remember what Grady—your dad—said?” How much had he told them? Had he said anything about how they were conceived?
“He said we were in Mommy’s tummy when he married her. That man who’s our real uncle asked the judge to make us live with him but he—the sheriff—won’t let that happen.”
“But we don’t know if he’s our real dad or not,” Kasey said. “So Stacey said we should ask you. But I said lawyers cost a lot of money. I saw that on TV. So we got our piggy banks. Together we have eight dollars and sixty-seven cents. It would be more, but we spent our allowance on squirt guns. Is that enough for a lawyer?”
“Yes.” As tears blurred her eyes, Jen squeezed the twins close again. “You’re in luck. This office just opened and I’ve got a special offer going. Free consultation.”
Two identical foreheads wrinkled with confusion. “What’s that?” they both asked.
“It’s when you get to ask me any questions you want, for as long as you want. No charge.”
Their faces brightened. “Wow.”
Jen sat on one of the metal-framed, plastic-covered chairs she’d placed in front of her desk for clients. Eventually she planned to upgrade. She tugged Kasey onto her lap and put her arm around Stacey, snuggling the little girl against her side. “So ask away. Anything. As many questions as you want.”
The small, sturdy bodies in her arms made her feel warm from the inside out. The sensation was amazingly wonderful. These bright, beautiful, terrific little girls filled her with love—just because they were children. They needed her. And she needed to be needed.
Kasey smoothed her dress over her knees. “The most important thing we want to know is—who’s our real dad?”
Jensen looked from one to the other. “Do you guys know what an officer of the court is?”
Identical blank looks settled over their faces. “Is it like being a sheriff?”
Jensen shook her head. “Not exactly. But it’s part of being a lawyer and it means I have to tell the truth. Okay?”
“Okay,” they said together.
The clouds lifted from their serious little faces and twin smiles were her reward. She could rack up a gazillion billable hours for her legal services and it would never be as satisfying as putting to rest the fears and insecurities of these two little girls.
“What about that man? That guy who says he’s our uncle?” Stacey asked.
Jen looked from one girl to the other. “He’s trying to get the judge to give him custody—that means he wants you to live with him.”
“Would we have to go away?” Stacey wanted to know.
Jen shook her head. “In my opinion, no.” That was an educated guess. Billy Bob wanted the ranch, and getting physical custody of the girls was the only way he could accomplish it.
Stacey nodded. “Good. Because I don’t want to leave Destiny. I’ve got a lot of friends on my baseball team.”
“I’ve got a lot of friends, too,” Kasey said.
“I bet you do,” Jen answered. “Don’t worry, you guys. Your dad and I are going to do whatever it takes to keep everything just the way it is.”
“Do we hafta get our mouth washed out with the cotton stick?”
“I’ll tell you exactly what’s going to happen.” She adjusted her hold on the girls. “Dr. Hannah Morgan is going to take a swab—it’s like a cotton ball on a stick—but she’s not going to gag you. It’s not like when you have a sore throat. She’ll rub it gently on the inside of each of your mouths. That’s it. It won’t hurt. I promise it’s really easy.”
“Why?”
“She’s going to send it to a lab where they run tests on it that will show who your father is.”
“But the sheriff said our bye-logical father is dead.”
She nodded. “That’s true. He was a bull rider and died in a rodeo accident.”
“How can the doctor test him?”
She hesitated for a moment, then decided the truth was always best. “I was married to your biological father.”
The two faces brightened. “Then you’re practically our mother.”
“No.” Although part of her wished she was. “But I’m your friend. The point is, I’ve got some things of his—a lock of his hair—that can be tested. The results will prove that he’s your father. But that’s not always the most important thing to a judge. She’s going to take into account your home environment, you have a nice house, clean clothes, enough to eat, the fact that you’re both good girls who never get into trouble.”
Stacey frowned. “Will the judge send me away because I threw a water balloon at Logan Peterson? I did it because he pushed my sister. The counselor at camp said it was bad and I should use words. I had to write a hundred times ‘I will not throw water balloons.”’
“No.” Jen shook her head for emphasis. “That’s normal kid stuff.”
“That’s a relief.” Stacey put her arm around Jen’s neck. “Next time I’ll throw a rock at him. That’s not so much to write.”
Behind her, the door opening stopped her “that wouldn’t be a good idea” speech. Then a long, broad shadow crawled up the wall in front of her. Somehow she knew who was there, and a warm feeling poured through her that had nothing to do with the girls and everything to do with their father. But he would have to wait. This conversation couldn’t.
“Do you know who our real father is?” Stacey asked again.
“You bet I do,” she answered.
“But what about the test?” Kasey wanted to know.
“The DNA will tell who your biological father is. But I don’t need any old DNA test to know who your real dad is.” Jen looked from one earnest face to the other.
She wondered about Zach. If he’d lived, would he have acknowledged them? He’d known of the pregnancy, but never bothered to take things a step further and claim them. But he’d traveled all over the country. He’d been young—
The thought stopped her. Grady had been exactly the same age when he’d assumed responsibility for identical twin infant girls not his own. What an awesome, difficult undertaking. To do something so selfless he must have loved their mother a lot. Lacey hadn’t lived a long life, but she’d known a lifetime of love. What would it be like to have that kind of love from a man? A man like Grady O’Connor? Her heart pounded and she held in the threatening sigh.
Stacey patted the hand at her waist. “So who is it, Jensen? Who’s our real dad?”
“Grady O’Connor is your real father in every single way that’s important,” she said emphatically.
“Well, now…”
Guiltily, the girls jumped away from her and whirled around. “Hi, Dad,” they said together.
“I was worried about you guys,” he said.
“We didn’t mean to worry you,” Stacey said. “We just needed a lawyer. We had questions.”
He opened his arms wide and they went to him, one on each side. He squatted down and nestled them close, taking in a deep breath.
He met her gaze. Humor evaporated the concern in his eyes. “Did you get them all answered?” he asked them.
“If not,” Jen said, “there’s still time. The free offer is still good.”
“Offer?” he asked.
“Grand opening special,” she explained. “Free consultation.”<
br />
The sight of him turned her brain to mush. She was surprised she got out words of more than one syllable. Consultation was a real challenge. Especially when the spark in his eyes told her he was pleased about what she’d said to the girls. She wished there was a law against her growing feelings for this man. Number one: he wasn’t likely to feel any respect for the woman who’d married the man responsible for what he was going through now. But the cold dose of reality didn’t put the brakes on her attraction. Number two: she had a very important job to do. Distraction from a six-foot hunk and a half wouldn’t help to win his case.
Number three: there was no number three. When she put an end to his legal troubles, there would be no need for them to have contact. She wouldn’t give him an opportunity to tell her to her face that he could never love the woman who’d had the bad judgment to marry Zach—even though that judgment had been young and stupid.
But watching him with the girls made her loneliness more acute. An aching void the size of Texas opened up inside her. She wished she could be a part of that warmth and love. Realization hit her between the eyes. These girls had captivated her from the first. The truth about their conception couldn’t change her feelings.
Kasey tugged on his shirt. “Daddy, we’re hungry. Can we go to lunch at the Road Kill Café before we hafta go to the doctor?”
“Sure, squirt.”
“Daddy, can Jensen come with us?” Stacey begged.
He looked at Jensen. “Would you care to join us, Counselor? My treat. To say thanks for your free consultation.”
Jen’s heart skipped. Say no, her sensible self warned. No. No. No. She looked into his eyes and the word no was on the tip of her tongue. Then Grady grinned and took the starch right out of her backbone.
She nodded. “Thanks. I’d love to go with you.”
“Yaay,” the girls cheered, breaking away from their father. They grabbed her hands and pulled her to her feet. “Let’s go.”
Jen was going, all right. Straight to hell in a hand-basket.
What If We Fall in Love? Page 9