using for support. Panic set in. What if he never saw them again? Fear and anxiety gripped his heart. He may not be ready to be a father, but he couldn’t walk away. Not without making absolutely sure.
He started his rental car, preparing to follow them. As they drove onto Main Street, he almost lost them at a traffic light. Once it changed, he managed to catch up while maintaining a reasonable distance until they turned onto a dusty ranch road. Quickly jotting down where he was and how he got there, he reluctantly headed into town. He could have followed them home, but that seemed creepy. He didn’t want to scare them or cause Hannah to feel unsafe. Approaching them required some thought and definitely more finesse than he had at the moment.
If he planned to stay in Texas for more than one night, he needed to buy some clothes and toiletries. His original trip to Texas hadn’t involved staying longer than a day. Maybe he’d be able to learn more about Hannah and her connection to the kids before he made his next move. He’d start with calling the hospital about a paternity test. If he was right, he had some enormous decisions to make. That both terrified and excited him. None of his relationships had reached the kid-talk stage. He’d assumed he would have kids someday, but he had never given much thought as to when.
Noah took a deep breath. Most men had nine months to plan for this; he hadn’t even had twenty-four hours. It didn’t matter. He’d love them more than life itself. Noah smiled. He already did.
* * *
THE RAP AGAINST the screen door caught Hannah by surprise. Everyone she knew didn’t bother with formalities and always let themselves in.
“It’s open,” Hannah called from beside the living room hearth. She wanted to finish replacing the loose tiles before her mother dropped off the kids. The person knocked again.
What in the world? Hannah huffed.
She scraped off her trowel and loosely covered the tub of adhesive grout. Her parents had taken the twins over to their house to play, giving her a chance to make some repairs without them underfoot. Just when she completed one task, she’d notice another potential hazard. She’d even considered sending them to her parents’ house to stay for a week or two, but she didn’t want to confuse them even further. “I said it was open.”
Hannah rounded the corner to the front door, surprised to see a stranger in a pantsuit peering at her through the screen.
“Miss Hannah Tanner?” the woman asked.
Hannah hesitated. The woman looked official...too official. “May I help you?”
“Are you Hannah Tanner?” the woman asked a bit more sternly.
Hannah stiffened her spine and gripped the doorframe. “I am, and who might you be?”
“I’m Constance Malone from Luna County Social Services.” The woman’s face showed zero expression. “I’m sorry for the loss of your friend Lauren Elgrove. Normally I would have called first, but I was unable to find a number for you. I’m here to follow up on the placement of Charlotte and Cheyenne Elgrove. May I come in?”
“I don’t have a house phone, just a cell.” Hannah opened the screen door, allowing her to enter. “I’m sorry, but I wasn’t expecting you. I gave all my information to Social Services in Boston. I didn’t realize there was anything more for me to do.”
Constance glanced around the foyer toward the living room, and then in the opposite direction at the dining area, which had become a construction catchall over the past few days.
“Please pardon the mess.” Hannah wrung her hands. “We’re in the middle of making some improvements on the house.”
“We?” Constance removed a pen and notebook from her oversized tote and began writing.
“My family and I.” Hannah didn’t appreciate being on the defensive in her own home. “I am trying to baby-proof the house. The girls’ arrival was quite unexpected.”
“Where are the children? I would like to meet them.”
“They’re visiting with my parents for a few hours while I work on the house.” Hannah pulled her phone from her pocket. “I can call and have my mom bring them back.”
“I can meet them another time.” Constance stepped farther into the living room. “I understand they have lived with you before. Do you mind if I have a look around? I’m required to perform a home evaluation.”
Oh, crap! “Um, sure. I wasn’t exactly prepared for your visit.”
“I understand this is rather sudden. Everyone involved needs time to adjust. That’s why I’m here—to aid in the girls’ adjustment.” Constance examined the thermostat. “Do you always keep it this cold in here?” She jotted down something on her notepad.
Hannah tugged the bandanna from the top of her head in a vain attempt to look more presentable. “I lowered it because my brother sanded the banister earlier and I wanted to air the residual dust out of the house before I damp mopped the floors. That’s also why the front door was open.” She ran her hand down the front of her paint-stained T-shirt.
She followed closely behind Constance for almost an hour as the woman took numerous notes. Hannah’s jaw began to ache from clenching it so tightly. After a mini interrogation about her lifestyle and finances, the social worker handed her a mile-long list of items that needed to be resolved before next week’s inspection.
“What happens if I can’t get these completed by then?” Hannah asked. They’d been mired in long-term renovations even before they realized they’d need to baby-proof.
“Miss Tanner, we understand this is a very difficult time for you and the children.” Constance removed her glasses. “It’s not my intention to appear hardhearted, but your home isn’t exactly a child-friendly environment. I know you were in the middle of renovations when the twins arrived, but it’s my job to put their safety first. I sympathize with you, but I’m afraid if the repairs aren’t made, I’ll be forced to remove the children and place them in temporary foster care until your home is ready. And I’m emphasizing temporary. It wouldn’t be forever. Just until you are better equipped to manage them.”
“Foster care?” Hannah tucked her hair behind her ears. “I’m their legal guardian. Our attorneys drew up the documents when Lauren created her will before the twins were born.”
“Hopefully it won’t come to that.” Constance gathered the paperwork she’d spread across the kitchen table. “Since you already have a couple of completed rooms and what appears to be a strong support system, I feel comfortable leaving them here with you, for now. But I urge you to complete that list. I will work with you in whatever way I can. It’s clear to me you’re making a valiant effort. Please be sure the children are available next week. I will be out to see you next Friday.”
Hannah followed Constance to the door. Even with her family’s help, it would be impossible to finish everything. “What if I move into my parents’ house with the girls until the repairs are completed? Will that give me more time?”
Constance shook her head. “I’m allowing an additional two days because of Thanksgiving. I probably won’t have a chance to perform another home evaluation before next Friday at a residence you may or may not be living in. You have nine days.” Constance reached into her tote and removed her notepad once again. “Give me your parents’ address and I’ll try my best to visit them before the end of next week. No guarantees, though. So please complete that list. I try to do everything I can to prevent placing a child—let alone two—in temporary foster care before a weekend, because it ties everyone’s hands until the following Monday. Thank you for your time today.” She gave Hannah’s hand a gentle squeeze. “I have faith you can do this, Miss Tanner.”
Hannah’s world tilted on its axis. She closed the front door behind Constance and scrambled into the kitchen, pushing the containers of food aside on the counter in an attempt to find her phone. Help! She needed it and fast. She refused to let Lauren down. Hell would freeze over