Carla Cassidy

The Cowboy's Secret Twins


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Charlie. Hilary was Charlie’s sister and Henry had feared that Charlie might feel compelled to stop working for him because of sibling loyalty. But Charlie had assured him that he wasn’t going anywhere and that he didn’t get involved in his sister’s affairs.

      Henry had gotten the impression that there was no love lost between the two. In any case, he was grateful that he hadn’t lost Charlie. Good workers were hard to find.

      In fact, he was going to have to let Hank go. He’d noticed the tall, thin man had smelled like a brewery despite the fact it wasn’t even lunchtime. Henry had already warned him twice about drinking on the job. There wouldn’t be any more warnings.

      He closed the front door and returned to the living room to find Melissa gone. She’d apparently gone upstairs to check on the twins. He walked over to the large floor-to-ceiling windows and gazed out to the outbuildings in the distance. The tree was only the first of the deliveries that would take place over the next two days.

      The brief conversation he’d had with her over coffee had told him exactly what he needed to know. She had no family and he suspected she had few friends. That would make what he had in mind much easier. All he had to do was convince Melissa that his plan was in the best interest of them all.

      He looked up as he heard the sound of her coming down the stairs, a baby on each hip. He hurried to meet her halfway and took one of the boys from her.

      As he scooped the little one from her arms he tried not to notice the warmth of her body, that scent of her that half dizzied him with memories.

      “Which one do I have?” he asked.

      “Joey,” she replied.

      “How can you tell the difference?” The little boy snuggled against Henry’s chest, as if aware that he was held in loving arms. Once again the heart that Henry didn’t know he possessed filled with a strange wonder and a fierce sense of protectiveness.

      “Once you get to know them better, it’s easy to tell them apart by their personalities,” she said as they hit the landing. “But the quickest way is that Joey has a tiny scar in his right eyebrow. He was reluctant to be born and the doctor had to use forceps.”

      Henry looked at the little boy in his arms and noticed the tiny scar at the corner of his eyebrow. Joey grinned up at him and reached for his nose. Henry laughed as he dodged the little hand.

      James kicked his feet and wailed, his face turning red as Melissa wrestled with him. “He’s hungry and he has no manners,” she said.

      “Ah, a boy after my own heart,” Henry replied. “Let’s go to the kitchen and get them some lunch.”

      The kitchen was a huge room although Henry and Mary rarely took meals there. This was Etta’s space but it was also the easiest place to feed two hungry little boys.

      Etta was in the process of preparing lunch, but smiled with welcome as they all entered. Henry got the car seats that were serving as high chairs and placed them in the center of the large oak table, Once the boys were settled he watched Melissa prepare two small bowls of cereal.

      As she approached the table he held out his hand for one of the bowls.

      “You might want to put on a hazmat suit,” she warned as she gave him one of the bowls and a small baby spoon. “They not only like to eat cereal, they also like to blow it and spit it and play in it.”

      Feeding Joey was a pleasure like Henry had never known before. The kitchen filled with laughter as he and Melissa spooned cereal into their waiting mouths, off the front of their shirts and themselves.

      “Well. this sounds like fun,” Mary exclaimed as she came into the kitchen.

      “Ah, the shopper is home,” Henry said as he wiped off Joey’s face then handed him his bottle.

      “Randy is putting my purchases upstairs in my room.” She smiled at Melissa. “It’s been far too long since this house had such laughter in it. And the tree, it’s going to be just lovely.”

      “Melissa thought it would be fun to string popcorn and cranberries for the tree,” Henry said.

      Mary clapped her hands together. “What a lovely idea. We’ll have a real old-fashioned tree trimming. I’ll make hot cocoa and we’ll play Christmas music and have such fun.”

      Melissa looked from Mary to Henry. “You both are so kind,” she said and once again he saw a touch of vulnerability in the depths of her eyes.

      “Nonsense, you’re family now,” Mary replied.

      But she wasn’t family, Henry thought. She was still a stranger. And she would never really be family, he mentally added. Sure, he had a strong physical attraction to her and she was the mother of his boys, but she would never be anything more than that to him.

      His father had spent a lot of years warning Henry about the women who would want him for his money, women like Hilary who would turn themselves into whatever he wanted or needed to access the kind of lifestyle he could provide for them. As far as his father was concerned, aside from his wife, Mary, women were cunning creatures to avoid except for the occasional physical release, and then only if protection was used.

      “I was lucky, boy,” his father would often say. “I was poor as a church mouse when I met your mother. I never had to worry about if she loved me for my money or for myself. You won’t have that luxury. You’ll never really know if a woman loves you or your money.”

      He knew without a doubt that Melissa hadn’t set out to seduce him that night. There was no way she could have orchestrated the blizzard and the two of them being on the road at the same time in the same place.

      What he didn’t know was that once fate had placed them in that position, had she recognized him and taken a calculated risk of getting pregnant? It had been a mutual seduction that night. She’d been as willing a participant as he had been.

      He frowned thoughtfully as he watched her coo and sweet-talk the two little boys. But if that was the case, if she’d recognized him that night before she’d slept with him, why hadn’t she contacted him the minute she realized she was pregnant? Maybe she’d been afraid he’d talk her into an abortion.

      One thing was clear. Henry wanted his boys living here with him and he would achieve that goal with or without Melissa’s help.

       Chapter 4

      The afternoon seemed to fly by. Melissa was shocked when two baby cribs were delivered and Henry had them set up in the room across from hers. And the beds weren’t all. High chairs were also delivered, fancy high chairs that seated infants then changed to accommodate toddlers, along with boxes and packages in all shapes and sizes.

      “This isn’t necessary,” she’d protested. “We’re only going to be here a couple of days.”

      “Then things will be more comfortable for the couple of days that you’re here,” Henry had replied.

      Dinner was a pleasant meal with the boys happily seated in their new high chairs and most of the conversation between Mary and Melissa. Henry had been quiet, watching Melissa with an enigmatic gaze that made her overly self-conscious and more than a little bit nervous.

      After dinner they all gathered in the living room for the tree-trimming party. Mary supplied thick thread and needles to string the popcorn and cranberries that Etta provided, and Henry carried the two high chairs into the room and placed the boys in the seats.

      “Why don’t I put the lights on while you two make the garland?” Henry asked.

      Mary smiled at Melissa. “He’d do anything to get out of using a needle and thread.”

      “Sewing is a woman’s work,” Henry replied.

      “Stubborn and a male chauvinist, what a surprise,” Melissa exclaimed.

      “I’m not a male chauvinist,” he protested. “I