For the Twins' Sake Page 10

  Daisy smiled. “Glad to hear that.” She took a sip of her seltzer. “You know, given what your late husband did, Sara, things sure worked out all right. Noah did wake up. He saw the note saying she was his and took immediate responsibility—he even had her checked out by Doc Bakerton at 2:30 a.m. And then just seven weeks later, the truth is revealed in that letter. Willem’s whole terrible plan was interrupted within two months. Someone up there was sure looking out for you.”

  “I think about how it could have been decades,” Sara said, shaking her head.

  “Cosmic justice,” Axel said. “Sorry if I’m speaking ill of the dead, but...”

  No one disagreed. That the plan had been foiled so early because Willem had been killed in an accident and had left that “last laugh” letter for Sara did seem like cosmic justice.

  Noah loved Annabel with everything in him, but now that he knew the truth of her parentage and her brief history, he wasn’t Team Ignorance Is Bliss. It wasn’t—and never was. Annabel deserved to know her mother; Sara deserved to be with her daughter. Things had worked out for the best for the two of them. Except when it came to what Noah would have to give up when Sara—as she put it—left one day.

  “The twins are beautiful, Sara,” Axel said, standing up and peering in the stroller.

  “And look just like you,” Ford noted.

  “Didn’t Noah say that Annabel looked just like him?” Rex asked with a grin. He peered closer at the baby girl. “Uh, maybe the coloring—hair and eyes. But that nose, that chin, the shape of the eyes, even her expression—all Sara.”

  Humph. Noah really had thought Annabel looked something like him; he had from the moment he’d brought her inside. Yeah, she’d looked more familiar than like him, but still.

  “And both twins are safe and sound,” Zeke added with a nod.

  They all raised their bottles to that.

  “Well, hell,” Axel said. “I say they’re our honorary niece and nephew.”

  As everyone clinked to that, Noah noted that Sara’s smile was genuine.

  So what did that make him? Honorary dad?

  As the group crowded around the stroller to take closer looks and photos of their honorary niece and nephew, Ford held back.

  “You okay?” his brother whispered.

  “Somehow,” Noah said. More glumly than he meant to.

  “Probably because you care more about Sara than you do about yourself,” Ford whispered back. “Always have, right?”

  Noah sucked in a breath. He was always surprised at how well his siblings knew him when they didn’t get together very often the past ten years. But suddenly he understood why Ford, who’d led the intervention in Noah getting his act together and rallying the siblings in support of Noah’s determination to rebuild the Dawson Family Guest Ranch, believed in his youngest brother. Because Ford did know him. And that confidence in him meant the world to Noah.

  Yes. He did care more about Sara than about himself. Always had, always would. Except for those months two years ago when he’d finally given in to his attraction to her, despite how bad he knew he was for her, when he’d been at rock bottom without realizing it, putting on a good show with the small ranch he’d bought until he couldn’t hide who he was back then: his father’s son.

  As Ford joined the others in fussing over the twins, Noah couldn’t take his eyes off Sara, who’d never looked more beautiful, Annabel in her arms.

  Everything that meant anything to him was in this backyard, on this property right now, including the ranch itself. And the best way to take care of Sara and the twins was to make sure the ranch was a big success. Annabel and Chance would always have a home here, Noah’s own grandparents’ home for many years. There was family history here for them, and he wanted Dawson’s to succeed for them.

  He owed his siblings that too—for their investment in the ranch and in him. He couldn’t fail, couldn’t lose sight of the prize: steady bookings, good reviews, word of mouth. Nothing could get between him and making this ranch everything it needed to be for his family—and Sara’s.

  So keep your distance from her, no matter how attracted you are to her.

  Not going to be easy, since they were not only sharing a cabin, but essentially a workplace. He was her boss, and he was going to have to keep things very professional between them.

  And his thoughts were anything but professional as he took in how beautiful she was, how sexy, memories of their brief romance hitting him left and right.

  If you care about her, you’ll keep your hands and lips to yourself.

  He made that silent vow, then headed over to where the group stood around Sara and the babies, his head clear, his heart guarded.

  Chapter Seven

  After a brief tour of the guest ranch and more hat tipping to Noah at what he’d done with the place, the Dawson brothers—except for Ford—got back in their rented truck and headed off to the Airbnb they’d booked in town. There were free rooms in the main house and a bunch of comfortable couches in the lodge, but between being honest about the place still having too many bad memories attached and not wanting to distract from the big day tomorrow, Axel, Rex and Zeke opted to stay elsewhere. Sara had gotten the impression that Noah understood; he still seemed to be marveling over the fact that they’d come at all. Ford had been cryptic about why he wanted to stay at the house, and Noah hadn’t pushed, but Sara sure was curious. Ford was the Dawson sibling who held the worst memories of the ranch.

  Now, just after 9:30 p.m., she and Noah were in the nursery, putting the twins to sleep in their crib. She stood beside Noah as he told a story about Batman, an Appaloosa, escaping his stall and running all over the ranch in search of the perfect carrot. Noah’s voice was so soothing, so beautifully familiar, that even Sara almost fell asleep, but the twins were out within two minutes.

  “My work here is done,” he said with a smile, but it quickly faded.

  “Everything okay?” She knew he had a lot going on, a lot on his mind, but she had a feeling he was still thinking about their conversation in the barn earlier that day.

  “Are you planning to leave?” he asked, finally turning his head to look at her. “If you are, I want to know. I need to prepare myself so I’m not blindsided by losing Annabel.”

  She liked how direct this new Noah was. But then again, this wasn’t a conversation she could have now. How could she possibly answer him?

  “I have no idea what I’m doing, Noah. Right now, I want to be here. I need to be here. That’s all I know.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “So maybe you’ll stay for a couple of months.”

  “I really don’t know. I guess it depends on how things between us are. And right now, they’re not good.”

  He stared at her. “In general or this minute?”

  She felt herself relaxing. “This minute. And the minute earlier in the barn.”

  “I don’t want to run you out of here,” he said, taking her hand. “I want you to stay.”

  If she wasn’t mistaken, he’d been about to add the word forever but then clamped his mouth shut.

  So why did that make her feel so...prickly? Because that want had nothing to do with her and everything to do with his love for the baby he’d thought was his daughter?

  Maybe. That should make absolute sense to her. It wasn’t as if she wanted Noah Dawson to be romantically interested in her. Did she?

  Oh hell. She did a little. Because she was still reeling from all that had happened and needed a pair of strong, familiar arms? Or because her residual feelings for him would never, ever fade? Noah was her first love. Her only love. Yeah, she’d been married. She’d also had some short-term relationships over the years that hadn’t gone anywhere—maybe because she’d never felt about anyone the way she’d felt about Noah. Despite how wild he’d been, how she hadn’t been able to tame him. He’d done that re
ining in himself, now that she thought about it. Maybe that was why she was even remotely thinking about him that way.

  When she was ready to find love again—though that felt very far off—she’d look for a man who’d be a great father to her twins. Like Noah.

  She’d look for a man who was responsible and reliable in ways she could plainly see. Like Noah.

  She’d look for a man who sent little chills of anticipation up her spine at the thought of kissing him, of being in bed with him. Like Noah.

  Oh hell. She was sunk!

  She wanted to flee the room and fling herself into his arms. That’s how much she couldn’t get a handle on herself.

  She needed fresh air and more open space, somewhere his tall, muscular, sexy being couldn’t dominate. She gave his hand a squeeze. “Let’s go enjoy the gorgeous night. We can sit outside and not talk.”

  He laughed. “Let’s do that.”

  Downstairs, he grabbed a baby monitor from the hallway console table and they headed out to the front porch, so big and welcoming. His sister had told her she’d planted all the beautiful flower boxes that hung from the windows, and there were four white rocking chairs and a porch swing along the side porch where it wrapped around. They opted for the swing, Noah giving them a push with his foot.

  She had the urge to wrap her arm around him, and whether she should or not, she was going to. Doing so earned her a smile and Noah scooting a bit closer. “How many nights did we sit here and look at the stars and not talk because there was too much to say and we both knew what the other thought anyway?”

  “I feel like that’s both the case and not, now, though,” he said. “We do have a lot to talk about, but it’s so complicated—and not—that there’s really nothing to say at all.” He shook his head. “Did any of that make sense? Was it actually English? Between you saying things like you’re leaving and my brothers’ surprise visit, I’m a little out of whack.”

  “What if I promise I’ll stay the summer at the very least?” she said, turning to look at him.

  He got up abruptly and walked to the porch railing, facing away from her, then turned around. “Great. So three more months of getting attached to Annabel and now her brother and then you’ll leave? That’s great, Sara.”

  “I thought we weren’t going to talk because it’s too complicated.”

  “I don’t push things under the ole rug anymore,” he said. “You talk or you fester and implode. I’d rather talk.”

  “I suggested the summer because you’ll know we’re staying put for at least that long.”

  “I love Annabel, Sara,” he said, a fierce edge in his voice. “She’s my daughter. There, I said it. She’s my daughter,” he shouted into the sky. “I know she’s yours, but she’s mine too.”

  Sara gasped. “I get it. I do.”

  “Marry me. Let’s get married. That’s the solution. Annabel stays forever. And not only that, but I get to be dad to her twin brother too. The twins grow up in the place where they have so much family history. Both Annabel and Chance will have a loving, devoted father. You’ll have the security of the ranch that means home to you. And to sweeten that end of it, I’ll split my share of the ranch with you fifty-fifty. You’ll be an owner, with the same share as I have.”

  She gasped again. It was all too much to take in. The marriage proposal. The security. The ranch ownership.

  The marriage proposal.

  All because he felt like Annabel’s father in his heart, in his blood and veins and every cell in his body.

  Security—for the twins and for herself when she was penniless with maybe $1,100 in jewelry to sell if she needed to.

  Home—when the Dawson Family Guest Ranch was home and always had been.

  And if the place went belly up, if Noah reverted to his old ways and ran the place into the ground?

  He won’t, a voice inside her knew full well. He cares too much now. His family is involved. Annabel is involved. And now you and Chance are added to the mix.

  And you believe in him.

  “I need some time to think,” she said, turning away. It was all too much.

  “Am I being selfish here, Sara?” he asked, stepping closer. “I know what you went through with Willem. Why you said yes. Am I asking the same thing of you?” He took a step back, regret all over his face. “You know what, forget I even brought up the word marriage. After everything you’ve been through, it’s not fair to you.”

  She studied him—hard—and his sincerity was clear. His sincerity had never been the issue. “I don’t think you’re being selfish. I understand where you’re coming from. You’re making me an offer, Noah. What Willem did, what I accepted, was very different. Or it feels different, anyway. But I do need time to think.”

  He nodded. “Take all the time you want. I’ll go do my rounds on the animals. Need anything before I go?”

  A hug. A bear-hug.

  She shook her head. “I’ll just sit out here awhile and then probably go up to bed.”

  He nodded. And then she watched as the man who’d just proposed to her headed down the path toward the red barn.

  Marry Noah Dawson? Once, that had been her dream. Now it might be her only option for security for herself and the twins. But more, she understood Noah’s depth of love for the baby he’d rescued, had thought was his, had raised, even if it was for barely two months. How could she take Annabel from him when the baby meant so much to him that he was willing to give up his freedom for her?

  Maybe that was what put a check mark in the no column. When she’d dreamed of marrying Noah Dawson, love was the biggest factor. Now, it wasn’t even on their radar.

  * * *

  Noah moved sideways through the stables, giving each of the thirty-two horses a pat and a little pep talk for tomorrow. He was expecting twelve guests, which meant twelve horses would christen the new and improved Dawson Family Guest Ranch’s trails and fields. And though Noah would do his best to match rider to horse based on the guest’s level of experience or lack thereof, sometimes, they’d have to see how it went. Which meant having lots of solid, sweet, well-rested horses to choose from. “Based on the initial questionnaire the guests filled out,” he said to horse twenty-seven, Blaze, “you’ll definitely be paired with our most experienced rider. Do me proud tomorrow.” He gave Blaze a pat.

  He’d gotten up to horse number thirty, Sugar Cube, when he finally broke, when he couldn’t pretend to have only the ranch at the forefront of his mind.

  “I proposed, Sugar Cube,” he said to the silvery-white quarter horse with the soulful brown eyes. “Proposed marriage. What if she says no? What if she says yes?”

  Sugar Cube didn’t respond, but she still got her pat. Noah moved to the next stall, Goldie, and told the gorgeous palomino with her gold-colored body and white mane that he had no idea what Sara’s response was going to be. “Think she’ll say yes? She might? Then we’ll both have what we want and need. Right?”

  He’d still considered Sara his best friend the past two years when they hadn’t spoken or laid eyes on each other, when they’d known nothing about each other’s lives. That was how strong their connection was. To him, anyway. That seemed like a solid basis for marriage. Much more so than the hot and cold of fleeting love with all its passion and arguments. Best friendship: lasting. Real. He’d let passion intrude on that friendship two and a half years ago, and what happened? He’d run Sara off into the arms of a psycho.

  He’d be able to raise Annabel and Chance. They’d be his children for real. And his precious Sara, whom he cared about to the moon and back, would be beside him, sharing his life, his world.

  “It wasn’t impulsive,” he told Bluebell in the next stall, giving her a pat. “I mean, it was. I didn’t think of it until that moment, but it’s probably the smartest thing that’s come out of my mouth ever.” He reached the end of the stalls, patted King and
felt the tension leave his shoulders.

  As he was leaving the stables to head back toward the main barn, he noticed his brother Ford walking about a hundred feet ahead, just around the side of the pasture fence. Ford was staring at a piece of white paper, then looking down, then around. He had something in his other hand. Looked like a narrow pitchfork.

  What the hell was he doing?

  “Ford?” Noah called out.

  His brother jerked his head up, clearly surprised. “Just looking around.”

  “Sure you are,” Noah said, walking over to him. He glanced at the piece of paper in his hands, which looked like some kind of crudely drawn map. “What’s that?”

  Ford sighed. “My legacy from Dad.”

  “Ah.” He suddenly realized why Ford “Hell Will Freeze Over Before I Step Foot on the Ranch” Dawson had decided to stay the night at the main house.

  “A map of some kind?” Noah asked.

  Ford nodded. “It was folded up in the letter he left me. The letter rambled on about how one night when he was drunk and angry at my mother over an argument, he put her diary, which he’d jammed open with a knife, in a metal box and buried it somewhere near the stables. Or he thought near the stables.”

  “Her diary?” Noah repeated. “You sure you want to find that?”

  Ford sighed hard. “Apparently my mother had a secret. That Dad knew about. He wrote that my mother flew into a rage and tore up the property looking for the diary but never found it. Then I guess she gave up on it, figuring he was too much of a drunk to ever dig it up himself and use it against her, since he’d likely never find it.”

  “Any idea what the secret is?” Noah asked.

  He shrugged. “Who the hell knows. I’m not sure I want to know. But Dad’s letter said it’s something I should know, that he’s sorry he wasn’t a better father to me or any of his kids. I figured while I was here tonight, I might as well try to find it, since Dad made a point of saying it was far off any of the trails or paths. I didn’t want to do anything to mess up the grounds the night before opening day. I’ve just been poking into the dirt, hoping to hit on something hard.”