Unexpected Babies

“I have to ask you another question you won’t want to answer.” She felt disloyal to Alan after what Caroline had said about Richard. Imagining her husband as a lost little boy, forced to grow up, hurt her. She had to ask her sister about the state of their marriage, because she wasn’t sure he’d tell her the truth. If he’d persuaded her to go along with shielding his father, he must be used to pretending things were “normal.” “Were Alan and I happy?”

Caroline jerked her fingers back. “How would I know?”

Cate held her twin’s so familiar gaze with sheer will. “You’re my sister. I took you at your word when you promised I could depend on you.”

Caroline looked as if she’d like to run for her life. “You would no more have told me about problems between you and Alan than you would have hired a plane to list them in the sky.”

“I have to know.”

“You aren’t yourself.”

“I’m afraid not. I don’t trust the way people describe me so far. I was stuffy.”

“Not stuffy. Kind.”

“So much circumspection sounds unnatural.” Cate tucked her sheet around her waist. A walk down the hospital hall might clear her muzzy head, but weakness in her legs, combined with the deep cut on her thigh held her prisoner, and Caroline had backed away when she’d needed her most. “Thanks for talking. I appreciate your effort.”

“Wait.” Her expression dogged, Caroline propped one elbow on the edge of Cate’s bed. “Let me try again. Alan came to my house this morning, and he insisted I see you.”

Cate crossed her arms. She still possessed enough of her infamous self-sufficiency to resent Alan’s intervention.

“Hold on, Cate. He wanted to make sure I took care of you.”

If he knew she needed help, why had he stayed away last night? The obvious answer. She’d dropped a bomb on his head. He needed time to reconcile himself. Not the most romantic tactic, but if he showed up again soon, she’d try to understand. “Alan and I aren’t your responsibility.”

“Listen to me. You have to listen if you ask for advice. I don’t think he’d have come to me if he didn’t care.” Caroline fluffed her hair. “Why are we talking about this? He loves you. He’s been crazy since that car hit you.”

“He doesn’t act like a man in love. He acts like something’s wrong.”

“I noticed, but I don’t believe your marriage went bad.”

Cate plucked at a loose thread on her sheet’s hem. “I’m glad my marriage comforts you, but I’d love to know how I felt about it.”

“Yeah.” Caroline sounded unsure.

And she didn’t even know about the twins.

AGAIN, Alan stared at Cate’s door. Someone had printed her name on a small, square whiteboard beside the metal doorframe. He brushed away a smear at the end of the r in Palmer. Then he went inside.

Favoring her injured leg, his wife turned from the window.

“Cate.” He’d expected her to be in bed.

“I almost stopped hoping you’d come, but I didn’t want to be flat on my back when we talked.” A smile hovered at the corner of her mouth.

He knew that sweet shape as well as he knew his own face. He’d kissed that mouth, frowned at that mouth, dreaded seeing it thin in anger, and waited with held breath for it to smile. A real smile—not like her smile now.

“You knew you could expect me?” Somewhere inside her remained the wife who’d trusted him to take care of her.

“If you’d stayed away again tonight, I’d have understood you’d made your decision.”

No, this Cate wasn’t the wife he’d lived with for twenty years. His Cate had never tested him.

“I’m glad I passed.”

“I didn’t think of it as a trial. When you didn’t call or come back yesterday, I assumed you had to think about where we stood.”

A cold fist squeezed his heart. “Is that what you’ve been doing?”

She shook her head. Her bright hair fell over her shoulder, tempting him to slide possessive fingers through the strands before she slipped away from him forever.

“How could I decide anything without talking to you?” she asked in a low voice. Behind her, the night sky perfectly framed her pale skin and tense silhouette.

Her open gaze gave him hope for the first time since she’d run from the office.

“I want to go on together,” he said. “You’re my wife.”

“Don’t put it that way, Alan.” Emotionally, she distanced herself from him. “I don’t want us to stay together because we happen to be married.”

“I get the idea you don’t want me to say I love you.”

Those words didn’t belong between them since he’d hidden the business trouble and she’d concealed their baby from him.

She limped toward him, but she stopped beside her bed and flexed her fingers on the lip of her table. From her knuckles to her nails, her skin faded to palest white.

“I know something’s wrong, and saying you love me would only alarm me now.” She lifted her chin. “You could tell me what’s wrong.”

No, he couldn’t. It wasn’t just that her injuries had given him time to win her back. He’d never been good at admitting she’d always be his deepest need. He’d shown her in the only way he’d known how, providing a good life for her and their son.

From now on, he’d pay more attention to her, become the husband she wanted. His father’s decadesold advice rang in his ears. “Give your wife the good things in life. Provide, and provide well, or she’ll find a man who can.”

“I still don’t know why I decided not to tell you about the baby.” She slid her gaze away from him. “Don’t we need to know why?”

“One day I hope you’ll tell me.”

Frustration tightened her mouth, but she controlled it. “Tonight I have to tell you I had a test today.”

“What kind of a test? Is the baby all right?” Fear nearly dropped him to his knees. Even if he couldn’t provide for this child as he had for Dan, he’d love the new baby. He’d be the best father his resources allowed.

“I’ve scared you again. I’m sorry.” Cate hurried around the bed and reached for his hand.

Her fingers felt vulnerable in his, but he couldn’t let go. “I should be taking care of you,” he said.

“I should have found a better way to say this. Dr. Davis did an exam today and discovered we’re having twins.”

“Twins?”

She nodded. Seconds passed. He didn’t know how to respond to twins. The cost, the timing. She’d never understand his panic. Distance came into her eyes. By not answering, he was losing her, the woman he’d loved since he’d learned to love, and the woman he no longer knew.