The Twin Birthright

He knew well what a mark her sister and mother’s deaths had left on her ability to believe happiness could last. Her teenage bout with cancer had piled onto that doubt, chipping away at what remained of her capacity for trust in happy endings.

“That’s a lovely tribute. What about middle names?”

“Mary Jaqueline, after both of my parents, Mary and Jack. And I hope you won’t mind if I name the other Breanna Royce.” Naomi’s eyes filled with emotion and a sheen of regret. “You’ve been here for me, but I understand if—”

“That’s perfect. Thank you. I’m honored.” Emotion, too much, threatened to steal his focus. He sealed it off and looked for tangible, logical facts. “I would guess they each weigh nearly six pounds. That’s remarkable for twins a month early.”

She studied him for an intense moment before blinking and glancing away. “No wonder I looked as big as a house.”

“You were—and are—beautiful.”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s nice not to be arguing with a woman who just gave birth in a car.”

“I don’t fight.”

“True.” She crinkled her nose, shadows chasing across her face. “But you seethe, holding it in either out of some reclusive habit, or fear of spiking the blood pressure of the pregnant woman.” She touched his arm lightly, her nails short and painted a pale pink. “I mean that nicely. You’ve been kind when you had every right to hate me.”

Her words stabbed him clean through. “I could never hate you.”

“We’re just wrong for each other.”

He couldn’t deny that, as much as it hurt to admit. Things had moved so fast with them. And then they were done.

“Life’s complicated.” He studied each baby’s face, their features imprinting themselves in his mind. In his heart. “But right now, it feels blessedly simple.”

Or at least he wanted it to be. Here in the dimly lit car, the whistle of the wind cutting through the Alaska night. A dream he’d entertained more than once in the past. Before. A whimsical thought that wasn’t like him.

She’d insisted he was trying to replace the fiancée who’d walked out on him after miscarrying their child years ago. That he’d been trying to replace that baby, as well. He couldn’t deny those losses had hurt like hell. But the breakup with Naomi had been exponentially worse.

Maybe she was right about his need to fill a hole in his life that had never healed after the baby he’d lost. But all he’d known after breaking up with Naomi was that no matter what had happened between them, he needed to usher the twins into the world before he could walk away.

Light sparked behind his eyes. Becoming stronger and stronger until he couldn’t blink it away. He frowned, sitting up, looking outside.

Car lights approached, twin beams streaking ahead, an emergency light strobing. Help had arrived. Thank God. Yet with that help came another realization.

As much as he’d thought he could cut ties once the babies were born, he still couldn’t walk away. Not tonight.

Two (#ua6bbe52d-5073-538a-97e9-76ed0f99f16b)

Naomi shivered under the blankets in the ambulance as she stretched out on the gurney. She had no reason to be cold. The heater was blasting and the emergency technicians had piled blankets on top of her.

Supposedly it was the aftermath of childbirth making her teeth clatter together. That and relief. Her two little girls—Mary and Anna—had been checked over thoroughly and both declared healthy miracles.

Twins, born in a car, in a snowstorm.

Amazing.

Both her babies were bundled up and being secured by the younger of the two techs in preparation for the ride to the hospital. A pediatrician would be waiting for them there.

Her teeth chattered faster and she searched beyond the open back door for Royce. He stood a few feet away, under a spotlight the techs had placed outside. The halogen beam shone down on his hair, made all the darker by the dampness from a fresh sprinkle of snowflakes collecting and melting. She heard the low, confident rumble of his voice. The tones grounded her with reassurance far more than the blankets. Holding strong to keep him at a distance proved hard right now, with her emotions so close to the surface.

“Thank you,” he said to the older of the two techs. “I appreciate your coming out on roads as messy as these.”

“That’s what we’re here for.” The medic tugged his knit cap more firmly over his head, wind whipping flurries sideways.

“And they’re all really okay.” Royce’s broad shoulders rose and fell with a sigh so heavy she couldn’t miss it.

“Mom’s blood pressure is a little higher than we would like, but we’re monitoring her and we’ll be on the road shortly.” He nodded. “You handled everything very well, especially considering the circumstances. The babies both have a ten Apgar score.”

“That’s good to know. When they were born, they both had blue hands, but they came out crying, actively kicking.”

“That’s excellent. You did a great job in a tough situation. There’s really nothing more anyone could have done in those circumstances.”

Royce scrubbed the back of his neck, a gesture she recognized as weariness. “Other than not go for an impromptu scenic ride with a pregnant woman.”

“You can beat yourself up later, Dad.” The older man clapped Royce on the shoulder.

Dad? Naomi’s throat closed and she bit her lip against a tremble.

Royce shrugged. “I’m not...their dad.”

The pain in his voice tore at her heart. For him, for herself and for her children. She and Royce had made such plans for the future. He was a good man who would have loved her children as much as if they were his own. If only she could have escaped the feeling he was filling a void left by the loss of his own child.

By the loss of his fiancée, a woman he’d known so much longer than his and Naomi’s few, intense months together.

Turning, he walked toward the ambulance, stepping up on the bumper and then inside, his eyes trained on Naomi, his broad shoulders nearly filling the opening.

The ambulance shifted again with the arrival of the other tech, angling past him. “My bad, man. I assumed you two were married.”

Royce shook his head. “Not married. Not a couple. Not the dad. Just a...friend.”

“Then I’m sorry, sir.” The man smiled apologetically. “You’ll have to step out of the rig. You can follow us in the tow truck.”

Royce’s face went tight for a moment before he shot her a forced smile. “Naomi, I’ll see you and the girls at the hospital. I promise.”

He stepped back out and the void where he’d been seemed to expand. Naomi’s stomach sank as the doors closed, sealing Royce out. He dropped out of sight.

She thought she’d gotten used to the idea of doing this on her own, but having him with her through the birth of the babies had felt so right, the connection between them fragile, but there.

The door to the rig slammed, and they pulled onto the road, taking with them the last hint of how things might have been.

* * *

Royce couldn’t will his feet to move, eyes fixed on the glass that separated him from the nurse’s station where the twins were being settled. He watched the staff cradle the girls, tugging a tiny T-shirt and cap on each newborn before swaddling them in a blanket. Try as he might, he couldn’t avert his gaze now that he’d finally made it to the hospital.

The trek here looped in his mind as he remembered the sinking feeling in his chest, being stuck in a damn tow truck with no rights to Naomi or the babies. He’d called to postpone his guest lecture series at the university. He’d also arranged for a car to pick him up in the morning, and sent an email to his administrative assistant at the oil company to start the paperwork for a replacement SUV. A new version of the one he’d had. He didn’t like change in his life. From a make and model of a vehicle to a brand of boots.

At least he hadn’t been stuck finding a ride tonight. The driver had taken pity on him and brought him all the way to the hospital before leaving with the demolished SUV.