For the Twins' Sake Page 5

  That same relief now flooded her. Okay. She had a safe place to land with her infants. She had a job. She had everything that was familiar and comforting. She’d be okay. This had been a good idea.

  “Thank you, Noah.”

  He nodded and looked out the window as if regrouping. “I won’t lose Annabel,” he whispered, and he glanced back at her so fast she realized he hadn’t meant to say it aloud. He picked up his mug and took a sip of his coffee. “I turned the spare room into her nursery,” he quickly said, “so that’s already all set up. You could take the guest room, and she and Chance can share the nursery. It’s small, but hey, so are they.”

  “I’d prefer that to taking a room in the farmhouse. This cabin will always feel like home.”

  He glanced at her with such warmth in his eyes that she wanted to fling her arms around him and just hold him—for old times, for now. As a link to tomorrow and the next few weeks and months. But touching Noah Dawson had always gotten her in trouble in every way, and she had to rely on him enough right now—she wasn’t going to mix up nostalgia, being grateful and need with anything else.

  And anyway, she recalled that his grandparents had always kept two of the bedrooms of the main house available for emergencies regarding guests. Family members in arguments. Couples breaking up overnight. Plumbing issues. Right now, Daisy had a room and she’d need one for a nursery, so that left only two. It wouldn’t be right to ask for one.

  “I’m so used to Annabel being here,” Noah said. “Honestly, I never thought she’d be going anywhere except when she graduated from high school.”

  She stared at him. “You really committed to being her father, huh.”

  He nodded. “I love that little girl. And I’ll love her twin too. I want you all right here. Besides, the guest room is your old bedroom.”

  She did like the idea of staying in her old room. And she couldn’t deny that Annabel looked happy and well cared for. And Noah had definitely turned the Dawson Family Guest Ranch around. But she didn’t trust him—aside from knowing he’d never mean her harm. He’d taken her trust two years ago by sabotaging everything he held dear, including their relationship. Then her husband had obliterated what little faith she had left in people. She couldn’t count on anyone but herself, and that was just the way it was. She’d do what she had to in order to fill a bank account with enough money to get back on her feet, then she’d figure out where she’d go from there. Maybe she’d leave Wyoming—not that could she could imagine it.

  She’d go back to the house in Wellington tomorrow to collect her things, everything that was hers. Then she’d officially move to the ranch with the twins and start over. She could breathe here, make a plan here. Being a foreman’s daughter meant she had ranch life in her blood and bones; she’d been assistant forewoman at the last ranch she’d worked at before she’d gotten married.

  “Glad to have you at Dawson Family Guest Ranch, Sara,” he said, extending his hand. “We can talk about what position you’d like once you’re settled. I could use an experienced assistant, if you’re interested. But there are a few open positions—from leading children’s activities and workshops to being a cowgirl.”

  She nodded, so relieved at how this had all worked out. “I’m glad to be here.”

  He had no idea how glad she was. This had always been home. And now, for the time being anyway, it would be again. She’d get on her feet, figure things out and then off she’d go.

  But Noah hadn’t let go of her hand, and she wasn’t pulling it away. Their history, their past, good and bad, lingered heavy in the air between them. There was too much to talk about, and right now, she just wanted to gaze at Annabel and get back the last seven weeks.

  But then Annabel started fussing again, and Noah reached for her, then put up his hands and stepped back. “Old habits,” he said. “I guess I don’t have to jump anymore.”

  “It’ll be an absolute treat to care for her,” she said, holding the baby girl, who once again was struggling to keep her eyes open. “Something I’ll never take for granted that I get to do after all.”

  He nodded and reached out a hand to hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Maybe we can put them both down in her crib, and then I can fill you in on the last seven weeks.”

  “Sounds good,” she said, snuggling Annabel close, aware that Noah was watching her.

  As he lifted Chance’s carrier—the little guy was still fast asleep—she couldn’t help but wonder what was going to happen, how this would all go. Could she and Noah share a cabin with all that had happened between them? Would the past flare up? Or would they both just ignore it?

  She would definitely ignore it, she told herself. No matter what he reminds you of or makes you think about, no matter how comforting it would be to be in his arms. Ignore it.

  This was her fresh start, her chance for a new life. Two precious little beings depended on her now, and she would not let them down.

  * * *

  “Oh, what a lovely room,” Sara said, looking all around the nursery as they walked inside, each holding a carrier. She’d stopped in her tracks, her mouth slightly open as though she wasn’t expecting this.

  Noah realized that she’d probably been expecting the basics. Not a room fit for a...beloved baby daughter. “It helped that I couldn’t sleep the past several weeks, between Annabel waking up every few hours and constantly worrying about something or other about the ranch or if I’d forgotten to take care of something. Made it easy to find the extra hours to turn this room into something special for her. Now them,” he added, nodding at Chance.

  He watched as Sara spun slowly, taking in the furnishings. The white spindle crib with the pastel monkey sheets. The stars and moon mobile that hung overhead and played lullabies. The white floor lamp that he’d stenciled matching stars and moons on. The big braided rug in yellows and pinks and blues. The yellow glider that he’d practically lived in the past seven weeks. The white dresser topped with the changing pad and basket of diapers and ointments. The bookcase he’d filled with board books and baby books and lined with stuffed animals. And the window with the yellow velvet drapes, tree branches and leaves and blue sky the view.

  Every time Noah came in here, he felt so strongly that this was all meant to be—that Annabel was meant to be here. The first few days, his sister had asked if he was worried about splitting his time between fatherhood and getting the final details taken care of for the grand reopening, then less than two months away, and for reasons he couldn’t quite ever figure out, the answer was more no than yes. Everything about Annabel in his life had felt so right, his bond with her so immediate, that he’d simply made it work. That was what you did.

  He hadn’t done it with Sara two years ago. Or with the small ranch he’d tried to keep going. That was what he’d thought about long and hard once he’d gotten his act together five months ago and became the person she’d wanted him to be then. Why had he let her go? Why?

  He didn’t know. And he hated thinking about it.

  “Thank you for taking such good care of her,” Sara whispered. “For giving her this beautiful home and nursery.”

  He managed a smile. He almost wished she’d stop reminding him that Annabel wasn’t his. That was unfair; he knew it. But still.

  This was going to be hard. However this new arrangement was going to go, what would happen. It would be hard. He had no doubt about it.

  “How about if I put Chance down,” she said, carefully taking her son from the carrier, “since I’m used to transferring him when he’s asleep, and you put Annabel down?”

  “Good idea,” he said, reaching for Annabel and cuddling her close for a moment before dropping a kiss to her soft little head. Love you, baby girl, he said silently.

  The moment she touched the soft sheets with the tiny pastel monkeys, she stopped fussing and her eyes closed.

  He sighed inwardly with
relief again. His baby girl wasn’t leaving. He wasn’t losing Annabel.

  Thank you, universe.

  “This is home for her,” Sara whispered, her voice shaky. “Of course she likes her crib.”

  He eyed Sara, wishing he could take her in his arms and just hold her, comfort her. This had to be so damned hard for her on so many levels. “And luckily, Chance seems like a champion napper who can sleep anywhere,” he said with a gentle smile.

  She nodded, her face brightening a bit. “He’s good that way.” But her face fell a moment later. He knew her well enough to be able to tell she was suffering from regret-itis. Wishing things had been different, that she’d been with Annabel from the moment she’d been born.

  “Hey. She’s your daughter, Sara. And she’ll be napping in your arms like she’s been there from moment one in no time.”

  “How’d you know that was...” She trailed off and turned away.

  “I’ve known you forever, Sara. Remember? Nothing escapes me about you.”

  She glanced at him, then gave a slow nod, and he wondered if he was getting too personal, if he should be more professional now, since they were going to work together. Heck, he was going to be her boss. “I guess we can leave them to nap and go talk,” she said.

  “I have a weird craving for a grilled cheese sandwich,” he said. “Want one?”

  “Actually, yes. An hour ago I couldn’t imagine ever eating again. Now I’m starved.”

  Because your life is back on track, he thought. You feel okay. He hoped she did, anyway.

  They headed down to the kitchen, and he told her to sit, that he had it. In minutes, she was sniffing the air appreciatively.

  “Grilled cheese was always my comfort food,” she said with a soft smile. “Whenever I was upset, if I couldn’t sleep at midnight, my dad would make me a grilled cheese and I’d feel better. I think a lot had to do with him making it for me and sitting next to me at this very table while I took a few bites that made me feel so much better.”

  “Yup,” he said. His closest-in-age brothers had been like that for him when there had been overlap with them staying on the ranch as he’d grown up. “And I’m not surprised Annabel conked out so easily. Meeting her mama was big stuff.”

  “It’s only seven weeks, right?” she said, her voice shaky. “That’s nothing.”

  She’d inadvertently thrown him a solid right hook in the stomach. Seven weeks had been more than enough for him to develop a serious bond with Annabel. Then again, he’d developed that bond within days. The weeks passing had just cemented it, his love for that baby growing every day. “A blip, Sara,” he forced himself to say. “And you’re together now. That’s all that matters anymore.”

  “I’m glad she’s staying here—for your sake too,” she said.

  “I’m not gonna lie. I’m very relieved. But I’m happiest for Annabel. I hope you know that. I love that baby. Truly love her, as if she were my own. I’d rather she had her mother and a twin brother and that she knew who she truly was than lived a lie with me for who knows how long.”

  And that was the truth, no matter how he felt about Annabel. If he loved that baby, he wanted what was best for her, not what was best for himself.

  He thought about the letter Sara told him Willem had left for her. What if the rat bastard hadn’t been reckless with that stupid Porsche? What if he had lived to ninety-three like his just-as-awful father had? Sara would never have known her daughter. He would never have known who’d left Annabel. All their stories would be very different.

  “I believe that,” she said. “You always had a big heart.”

  Again, so much of their past hung heavy in the air, regrets and good times. He’d let her down—hard. Driven her right into Willem’s arms. He’d never forgive himself for that.

  “Why do you think he left her here?” he asked. “With a note saying she was mine?”

  “Probably to create havoc for you, mess up your carefree bachelor’s life, screw up your good thing with the reopening of the ranch, if he even knew about that. Was there press about the grand reopening? He must have read it.”

  Noah nodded. “The Bear Ridge Daily did a big story on it. So did the Converse County paper.”

  “I think he thought he was getting the last laugh,” Sara said. “He knew how I felt about you and he couldn’t stand it, even when I told him that was in the past. He never believed me. He resented you and probably thought it was sweet justice that you’d think the baby he didn’t want was yours.”

  He wondered how she felt about him now. Two years ago, after a drinking bender that had left Noah in no condition to drive her and her dad to his appointment at the county hospital since her car was in the shop, she’d screamed that she was done with him, then had sent him a text a few hours later: I’ll never be done with you, Noah. Even if we never see or speak to each other again, I’ll always wish you well in my heart. But goodbye.

  Two weeks later, he’d heard she’d married the rat bastard.

  He had a feeling he’d never be clear on why he’d screwed up with Sara once he’d finally allowed himself to be in a relationship with her. He’d had everything, and he’d let it all go. Sara. His starter ranch. He’d frittered away most of the savings account she wouldn’t take from him on really dumb track bets. Then he had what he’d supposedly wanted, according to his sister, who’d eventually staged an intervention with his brothers: nothing.

  “Well, I’m glad Willem chose me,” he said. “Mine or not, it was an honor to take care of her the past seven weeks, Sara. Two years ago, I couldn’t have done it. Two months ago, I did. I’m a different person now, if you haven’t noticed.”

  “I noticed.” She opened her mouth as if to say something else but apparently decided against it. He imagined she’d been about to say: It’s a start, anyway. Let’s see where you are in six months. Or a year. Maybe you’re one challenge away from messing it all up again.

  He could see in her face that she didn’t trust him, and he didn’t blame her. But things were different now—because he trusted himself. That was everything. He hadn’t known anything about that two years ago or five years ago or ever. But when he’d taken on reopening the ranch, when his sister and brothers had told him he’d hit rock bottom and there was only one way to go from there, he’d grabbed control of his life with both hands. His siblings had believed in him when they’d had no reason to, when he himself had no reason to. By the time Annabel had been left on his porch, he truly was a changed man.

  Sara leaned against the doorway frame, crossing her arms over her chest, her long brown ponytail falling against her neck. “What a mess this could have been had he left her with strangers. I could have had a custody fight on my hands for my own daughter.”

  “The universe was looking out for you all along,” he said, lifting up an edge of the grilled cheese to see if it was golden brown. It was. He was surprised the conversation hadn’t distracted him into burning down the entire kitchen.

  “I think so.” She nodded. “Wow, that looks good,” she said, her gaze on the grilled cheese sandwiches.

  “And here it comes, good old-fashioned comfort food,” he said, putting the plates on the small round table by the window and grabbing two raspberry seltzers from the fridge.

  “Thanks, Noah. I have a feeling I’ll be saying that a lot.”

  “Sure beats the alternative,” he said, then regretted it. She’d had some choice words for him back then. He didn’t want to remind her of bad times. He wasn’t that guy anymore.

  But she gave him a smile and picked up half her sandwich. “I was wondering if I could borrow your pickup truck today. When the babies wake up, I can drive over to my house—my former house—and get Chance’s things. Then I’ll be done with that place.”

  He cracked open his seltzer. “I’ll do you one better. I’ll drive you and help you cart everything. And how ab
out if we ask Daisy to watch the twins?”

  Sara frowned. “I hate the thought of leaving Annabel for even a second when I just got her back.”

  “We could take the twins along if you prefer, but it would be a lot easier and faster to get the job done without having to worry about them or check on them.”

  She nodded. “You’re right. And Daisy does seem to adore Annabel. Think she’d mind?”

  “Mind? Annabel’s her—” He clamped his mouth shut.

  “Niece,” she said solemnly. “Annabel sure had a lot of love here. I’m grateful. Your brothers too?”

  He shook his head. “They know about her, but they all said they’d never step foot on the ranch again, that it was my thing and they were glad Daisy was here because it made them feel less guilty. I think a few of them were worried the baby news would trip me up about the ranch. I’m pretty sure they’re all waiting to see how things shake down. No doubt Daisy fills them in.”

  She nodded. “Your sister can still be Aunt Daisy,” she said, taking another bite of her sandwich. “He who won’t be named and I were both only children. Annabel can use an aunt and four uncles.”

  He smiled. “And Daisy is six months pregnant and wants baby experience. She’s loved her babysitting time with Annabel these past weeks. She’s an old pro already. I’m sure she’d be happy to watch both.”

  “Okay, then. I’ll take you up on the offer for help and your sister as babysitter.”

  He nodded and picked up his sandwich and took a bite. He’d eaten plenty of grilled cheeses here as a kid, just as Sara had had many meals in the main house. They’d been inseparable as children, the same age, when his five siblings had all been older and not so interested in the sprout tagging along. His eldest brother, Ford, was six years older, just a little more than a year separating all of them. They had three mothers among them. Daisy and Noah with the third wife. Axel, Rex and Zeke with the second, and Ford with the first Mrs. Dawson.

  “Thank you again, Noah,” Sara said, placing her hand on his. “For lunch. For the relief of a home and a job. For taking such good care of my daughter.”