Mackenzie's Pleasure (31 page)

with the ambassador. Mary and Shea were organizing a game for the younger kids. Loren,

who was often an oasis of calm in the middle of the Mackenzie hurricane, gave Barrie's

rounded stomach a knowing look. "How did the checkup go?" she asked.

"Twins," Barrie said, still in that numb tone. She gave Zane a helpless, how-did-thishappen look.

The whirlwind of activity came to a sudden stop. Heads lifted and turned. Her father

gasped. Mary's face suddenly glowed with radiance.

"Both boys," Zane announced, before anyone could ask.

A sigh almost of relief went around the room. "Thank God," Josh said weakly. "What if it

was another one – or fwo – likeNick!"

Barrie's head swiveled around as she began searching for a particular little head.

"Where
is
Nick?" she asked.

Chance bolted upright from his sprawled position on the couch. The adults looked around

with growing panic. "She was right here," Chance said. "She was dragging one of Dad's boots

around."

Zane and Barrie both began a rapid search of the house. "How long ago?" Barrie called.

"Two minutes, no more. Just before you drove up." Maris was on her knees, peering

under beds.

"Two minutes!" Barrie almost moaned. In two minutes, Nick could almost singlehandedly wreck the house. It was amazing how such a tiny little girl with such an angelic face

could be such a demon. "Nick!" she called. "Mary Nicole, come out, come out, wherever

you are!" Sometimes that worked. Most times it didn't.

Everyone joined in the search, but their black-haired little terror was nowhere to be

found. The entire family had been ecstatic at her birth, and she had been utterly doted on,

with even the rough-and-tumble cousins fascinated by the daintiness and beauty of the newest

Mackenzie. She really did look angelic, like Pebbles on the old
Flints tones
cartoons. She was

adorable. She had Zane's black hair; slanted, deceptively innocent blue eyes; and dimples on

each side of her rosebud mouth. She had sat up by herself at four months, crawled at six,

walked at eight, and the entire family had been on guard ever since.

They found Wolf's boot beneath Mary's glassed-in collection of angels. From the scuff

marks on the wall, Zane deduced his little darling had been trying to knock the collection down

by heaving the boot at it. Luckily the boot had been too heavy for her to handle. Her throwing

arm wasn't well developed yet, thank God.

She had a frightful temper for such a little thing, and an outsize will, too. Keeping her

from doing something she was determined to do was like trying to hold back the tide with a

bucket. She had also inherited her father's knack for planning, something that was eerie in a

two-year-old. Nick was capable of plotting the downfall of anyone who crossed her.

Once, when Alex, Joe's second oldest, had seen her with a knife in her hand and swiftly

snatched it away before she could harm anyone or anything, Nick had thrown a howling temper

tantrum that had been halted only when Zane swatted her rear end. Discipline from her adored

daddy made her sob so heartbrokenly that everyone else got a lump in their throats. That, and

making her sit down in her punishment chair, were so far the only two things they'd discovered

that could reduce her to tears.

When she had stopped sobbing, she had pouted in a corner for a while, all the time

giving Alex threatening looks over one tiny shoulder. Then she had gone to Bar-rie for

comfort, crawling into her mother's lap to be rocked. Her next stop had been Zane's lap, to

show him that she forgave him. She'd wound her little arms around his neck and rubbed her

chubby little cheek against his rough one. She'd even taken a brief nap, lying limply

against his broad shoulder. She'd woken, climbed down and darted off to the kitchen, where

she'd implored Mary, whom she called Gamma, for a "dink." She was allowed to have soft

drinks without caffeine, so Mary had given her one of the green bottles they always kept in

store especially for Nick. Zane and Barrie always shared a look of intimate amusement at

their daughter's love for Seven-Up, but there was nothing unusual about seeing her clutching

the familiar bottle in her tiny hands. She would take a few sips, then with great concentration

screw the top onto the bottle and lug it around with her until it was finally empty, which

usually took a couple of hours.

On this occasion, Zane had happened to be watching her, smiling at her blissful

expression as her little hands closed on the bottle. She had strutted out of the kitchen without

letting Mary open the bottle for her and stopped in the hallway, where she vigorously shook the

bottle with so much vigor that her entire little body had been bouncing up and down. Then, with a

meltingly sweet smile on her face, she had all but danced into the living room and handed the

bottle to Alex with a flirtatious tilt of her head. "Ope’ it, pees," she'd said in her adorable

small voice... and then she'd backed up a few steps.

"No!" Zane had yelled, leaping up from his chair, but it was too late. Alex had already

twisted the cap and broken the seal. The bottle spewed and spurted, the sticky liquid

spraying the wall, the floor, the chair. It hit Alex full blast in the face. By the time he'd

managed to get the cap securely back on the bottle, he was soaked.

Nick had clapped her hands and said, "Hee, hee, hee," and Zane wasn't certain if it was a

laugh or a taunt. It didn't matter. He had collapsed on the floor in laughter, and there was an

unbreakable law written in stone somewhere that you couldn't punish youngsters if you'd

laughed at what they'd done.

"Nick!" he called now. "Do you want a Popsicle?" Next to Seven-Ups, Popsicles were

her favorite treat.

There was no answer.

Sam tore into the house. He was ten, Josh and Loren's middle son. His blue eyes were

wide. "Uncle Zane!" he cried. "Nick's on top of the house!"

"Oh, my God," Barrie gasped, and rushed out of the house as fast as she could. Zane

tore past her, his heart in his throat, every instinct screaming for him to get to his child as

fast as possible.

Everyone spilled into the yard, their faces pale with alarm, and looked up. Nick was

sitting cross-legged on the edge of the roof, her little face blissful as she stared down at them.

"Hi," she chirped.

Barrie's knees wobbled, and Mary put a supporting, protective arm around her.

It was no mystery how Nick had gotten on the roof—a ladder was leaning against the

house, and Nick was as agile as a young goat. The ladder shouldn't have been there; in fact,

Zane would have sworn it hadn't been when he and Barrie had arrived, no more than five

minutes earlier.

He started up the ladder, his gaze glued on his daughter. A scowl screwed her small

features together, and she scrambled to her feet, perilously close to the edge of the roof.

"No!" she shrieked. "No, Daddy!"

He froze in place. She didn't want to come down, and she was absolutely fearless. She

paid no more heed to her danger than if she'd been in her bed.

"Zane," Barrie whispered, her voice choked.

He was shaking. Nick stomped one little foot and pointed a dimpled finger at him.

"Daddy down," she demanded.

He couldn't get to her in time. No matter how fast he moved, his baby was going to fall.

There was only one thing to do. "Chance!" he barked.

Chance knew immediately. He ambled forward, not making any swift movements that

would startle her. When he was directly below her, he grinned at his cherubic niece, and she

grinned at him. He was her favorite uncle.

"Dance," she crowed, showing all her tiny white teeth.

"You little Antichrist," he said fondly. "I'm really going to miss you when you're in

prison. I give you... oh, maybe to the age of six."

Benjy, Josh's youngest, piped up behind them, "Why did Uncle Chance call her

Dannychrist? Her name's Nick."

Nick spread her arms wide, bouncing up and down on her tiptoes. Chance held up his

arms. "Come on, cupcake," he said, and laughed. "Jump!"

She did.

He deftly snagged her in midair, and hugged the precious little body to his chest. Barrie

burst into tears of relief. Then Zane was there, taking his daughter in his arms, pressing his lips

to her round little head, and Barrie rushed over to be enveloped in his embrace, too.

Caroline looked at Joe. "I forgive you for not having any female sperm," she

announced, and Joe laughed.

Josh was frowning sternly at Sam. "How did the ladder get there?" he demanded.

Sam looked at his feet.

Mike and Joe began to frown at their boys.

"Whose bright idea was it to play on top of the house?" Mike asked of the seven boys

who hadn't been inside, and thus absolved of blame.

Seven boys scuffed their shoes on the ground, unable to look up at the three fathers

confronting them.

Josh took down the ladder, which was supposed to be in the barn. He pointed to the

structure in question. "March," he said sternly, and two boys began their reluctant walk to

the barn—and their retribution. Benjy clung to Loren's leg, blinking at his two older

brothers.

Mike pointed to the barn. His two boys went.

Joe raised an eyebrow at his three youngest. They went.

The three tall, broad-shouldered brothers followed their sons to the barn.

Nick patted Barrie's face. "Mommy cwy?" she asked, and her lower lip quivered as she

looked at Zane "Fix Daddy."

"I'll fix, all right," he muttered. "I'll fix some glue to your little butt and stick you on a

chair."

Barrie giggled through her tears. "Everyone wished for a girl," she said, hiccuping as

she laughed and cried at the same time. "Well, we got our wish!"

Wolf reached out and plucked his only granddaughter from his son's brawny arms.

She beamed at him, and he said ruefully, "With luck, it'll be thirty years before there's

another one. Unless ..." His dark eyes narrowed as he looked at Chance.

"No way," Chance said firmly. "You can turn that look on Maris. I'm not getting

married. I'm not reproducing. They're starting to come by the bunches now, so it's time to call

a halt. I'm not getting into this daddy business."

Mary gave him her sweet smile. "We'll see," she said.