Twins times two! (3 page)

And in the space of a heartbeat, the bottom dropped out of her world.

Chapter Two

Somehow Cara managed to hold on to her instinctive cry until she heard the whisper of Ross's footsteps disappear down the hall. Even so, she didn't dare move until the slam of the door was followed by the low growl of his car.

The trembling began in her extremities, moving inward until she was forced to grip the doorjamb to remain upright. Her eyes were glued to the children playing on the floor in front of her. As much as her mind rebelled against what she saw, the twins were so like her own—one a carrottop with cornflower-blue eyes; the other a strawberry-blonde with deep-indigo eyes. If not for the way the girls' haircuts were different—short and left to curl naturally—Cara would have believed that her own little girls had been brought to the house as part of an elaborate joke.

But they weren't her twins. When Ross's twins looked at her there was no recognition in their gazes. Instead they broke into hysterical cries and rushed to the window overlooking the drive.

"Daddy! Daddy, don't leave us!" one of them cried while the other pounded on the glass and sobbed.

They were "Daddy's girls." Heidi and Zoe had adored their father, as well. It had taken months for them to stop asking for Cara's brother. Now they tended to be reticent around males, probably because their world was more generally populated with women.

"Shh, shh, there's no need to cry."

Cara's instincts sent her body into autopilot. Pushing her own confusion aside, she quickly comforted the little girls, then showed them the treasures she'd brought with her in the duffel bag.

Soon the twins were assembling a floor puzzle decorated with cartoon animals. Yet, they must have sensed something in her manner because they regarded her now and again with concern and a hint of shyness.

Cara's smile was hollow and automatic. She felt numb, even though her limbs continued to tremble with shock and disbelief.

Cara's children were rarely shy. They raced up

to engage strangers in conversation as if meeting long-lost friends. But these youngsters...

No. They weren't her children. They were two completely different individuals.

Cara's stomach flip-flopped in sudden dread, and she sank into a child-size chair drawn up to a gaily painted table. In a rush she remembered the many times that her brother had teased his wife about the origins of Zoe's red hair. Patrick, her brother, had Cara's own strawberry-blond hair and indigo eyes, while his wife, Deirdre, had been a dark brunette with brown eyes.

Several times they had all joked halfheartedly that one of the twins had been switched at birth. After all, there had been a horrible blizzard the night the children were born, resulting in a blackout through much of northern Utah. Although the hospital's power had been running, due to an emergency generator, the weather had caused more than eight women to go into labor at the same time. Heidi and Zoe had been born in an ambulance en route to the hospital, and there had been rumors that another couple had given birth to twins in the hallway. Both women had been forced to wait in the corridor until rooms could become available for them and their babies could be taken the nursery.

Suddenly the family joke didn't seem nearly so funny. Was it possible that two sets of identical

twins really had been switched during their stay in the hospital? Had that error created two sets of fraternal twins from what had once been two sets of identical twins? Had Deirdre accidentally brought home little Zoe, when in reality Zoe had no biological ties to the family that had raised her?

Cara's head swam at the very idea. But even as her brain tried to tell her that she was overreacting and the whole situation was a horrible joke, her heart suspected the truth. Somehow she knew her theory was right and that two sets of identical twins had been "jumbled up" before being sent home with their parents, creating two sets of fraternal twins. As impossible as it sounded, it was the only logical explanation for the girls.

Raking her fingers through her hair, Cara took a deep, shuddering breath. Think. Think.

What was she going to do now? What was she supposed to do now?

Why couldn't she think!

Fortunately Ross's children seemed unaware of her turmoil. Fighting her fear and panic, Cara dragged the duffel toward her and reached into one of the pockets, removing her cell phone.

Her fingers shook so badly it took three tries before Cara was able to punch in the numbers. One ring. Two.

"Come on, Polly, please," Cara whispered, her eyes still glued to Ross Gifford's twins.

They were growing unsettled by her rapt attention. Whispering to themselves, they pushed their puzzle a few feet farther away from Cara and resumed their play.

So quiet. Cara's twins were rarely quiet and rarely still. She couldn't ever remember them sitting in one place for more than a few minutes at a time, let alone quietly working on a puzzle. Becca and Brianne didn't even talk much to each other. Instead, they worked together in a way that revealed how accustomed they were to anticipating each other's needs.

Dear sweet heaven above, how could this have happened?

Cara watched them for what seemed like hours, the phone clutched against her cheek.

No, it wasn't hours. She'd only just arrived. She'd only just dialed the phone.

"Hello, this is Polly Townsend. How can I help you?"

Cara gripped the phone so hard it creaked. In the background, she could hear the happy squeals of her own twins.

Heidi and Zoe were safe. They were with Polly. This wasn't a horrible joke.

"Polly?" She opened her mouth, then realized

she didn't know what to say. Dear heaven above, she didn't even know how to explain what was wrong. All she knew was that she was suddenly afraid. Deeply, terrifyingly afraid.

"Cara?" When Cara didn't immediately respond, Polly's tone sharpened in concern. "What's wrong? Didn't you find the Gifford house?"

"Yes. Yes, I'm here now."

"Has something happened to the children? Melba told me once that they are terribly attached to their father. Sometimes they cry for a while after he leaves."

Wrong? No, nothing was wrong with the children. They were beautiful. Completely and totally perfect.

Cara sobbed. "Polly, can you get someone to take the twins home and watch them for a little while. I need you to come over as soon as you've finished there."

Polly didn't argue about finding a sitter for the twins. Instead, her voice sharpened with concern. "What's up?"

"You won't believe it unless you see it."

"'It?' Cara you're scaring me. Tell me what's wrong."

Unable to think of another way of breaking the news, Cara blurted out, "Polly, I think a mistake was made. With the twins. When they were born."

There was a pause on the other end.

"I don't understand, Cara. Are Gifford's children sick or something?"

"No." Cara bit her lip when the word emerged as another ragged sob.

"Cara, tell me what's wrong."

The sobs came swifter now and stronger. "Polly, Ross Gifford's children look like Heidi and Zoe. Exactly like Heidi and Zoe. I think a mistake was made on the night they were born. I think one of each set of twins was switched at the hospital and was sent home with the wrong mothers."

Her announcement was met with stunned silence. "Cara, that doesn't make any sense. Are you telling me that..."

Polly's words trailed away, and Cara quickly filled the quiet with her own words. "I'm telling you that Ross Gifford has one twin that looks like Heidi and one that looks like Zoe. And I think I've just unknowingly opened Pandora's box."

Less than twenty minutes passed before Polly arrived, bringing with her the other partners of the Mom Squad, Bettina Wilfordson and Grace Ab-bington. By the time the company van pulled into the drive, Cara had bathed Ross's children and tucked them into bed. But where Heidi and Zoe would have dawdled over the tasks, Becca and

Brianne had gone to bed with a near military-like efficiency—giving Cara a clear indication that Ross Gifford was a man who liked keeping to a schedule.

Cara sank onto the couch and nibbled at her fingernail while the two women peeked in on the sleeping children. But the moment Cara caught sight of their stunned expressions, she knew that she had not overreacted.

"This is freaky," Polly whispered as she sank into a rocker.

Bettina sank cross-legged on the carpet, her skirt billowing around her. For once Bettina—who generally spoke of the effects of past lives and bad karma on everyday events—was silent.

Grace eyed Cara in concern. "So what are you going to do?"

Cara shrugged, unable to think. Her mind kept going in circles, reviewing her first glimpse of Ross's girls. She was numb and confused, her stomach knotting with a deep inexpressible fear.

"You could ignore the whole situation and continue on as before," Polly suggested.

Bettina gasped as if the cosmic forces of the universe were shuddering at the very idea. "Both sets of twins once shared the intimacy of the womb. Their psyches have unconsciously orches-

trated this reunion. To separate them again would be a tragedy."

"Let's leave the Fates out of this please," Grace inserted quickly before Bettina could begin elaborating on psychic bonds. "I think we would be better off focusing on the present reality of the situation."

Cara bit her lip. "Ross Gifford has to be told."

If Cara had expected her friends to talk her out of the idea, the silence of the room confirmed her worst fears. Yes. He would have to be told.

"How...when?" she stammered faintly.

"The sooner the better," Bettina offered. "To hold on to such a secret would eat at your soul."

"True, but I think before you start telling the man anything, you'd best think things through," Polly said.

"Polly is right." Grace sank onto the cushion next to Cara and took her hand. "You've got to look at this from every angle. And when the time comes, you'll have to tell Ross." She gave Cara a look of concern. ' 'But not tonight. As much as you might want to blurt things out the minute you see him, I think you'd better consult with a lawyer before you do anything."

"I agree," Polly offered. "I could call Bert

Morton and get you into his office tomorrow morn-mg.

Cara took a deep shuddering breath. "And until then?"

The other women exchanged concerned gazes.

"We'll take over the rest of the evening for you. Why don't you go home, put your feet up—" Grace began.

"No."

Cara wasn't aware that she'd said the word aloud until the force of it surprised even her.

"No, I've got to stay and finish out the evening." Cara prayed that her friends wouldn't push her for an explanation. She wasn't sure why she wanted to stay. But she needed to be here. She needed to see Ross's children again, to study them for long minutes in the darkness of their rooms. Maybe then she would be able to sort things out for herself and bring her reeling thoughts into line.

"No, I'll stay. Ross Gifford was nervous enough about leaving his children for the evening. I won't give him any more reason for concern. From the look of things, this man has more money than God. I don't think it would be good for business to do anything to upset him."

It was easy to see from her partners' faces that

they had already come to the same conclusion but had been willing to support her needs first.

"Really," she insisted with more strength than she felt, 'Til be fine."

Eventually Cara was able to convince her friends that she wasn't in immediate danger of becoming hysterical. Even so, it was more than an hour later when the women finally climbed into the van. Cara stood at the nursery window, watching them drive away. Hoping she looked natural, she smiled and waved.

But the smile died the moment the van was lost from view.

The quiet of the house settled around her. The central air created an artificial draft that should have been pleasant but made her feel chilled instead.

Idly her gaze swept over the lawn, the artificial pond, the distant glimpse of a winding footpath and a rock bridge.

Such a beautiful home.

In the darkness Ross's estate seemed even more removed from the real world. Subdued lighting had been cleverly camouflaged to make it look as if the grounds were flooded in moonlight. From her vantage point, she could see the deer grazing beneath

the trees, the ducks sleeping in the reeds, their heads tucked beneath their wings.

So serene. So beautiful. So surreal.

Once again Cara had the feeling that she had been plunged into the middle of a picture postcard or a movie set. If only she'd been given some hint of what she would find here. Maybe if she'd been more prepared...

But how could anyone be prepared for what she'd found here?

Without warning, the phone on the wall bleeped. Cara jumped, her hand flying to her chest as if to keep her heart from leaping free.

Taking a deep breath, she lifted the receiver. "This is the Gifford residence, may I help you?"

"This is Ross. I'm on my way home now."

There was a pause, and Cara wondered how she was supposed to respond to his blunt announcement.

Yes, sir?

Whatever you say, sir?

"Very good, Mr. Gifford." Damn. That sounded like something the stuffy Stibbs might say.

"How have things gone?"

Again, her stomach flip-flopped. Then, with the realization that she would soon be confronting Ross face-to-face, she fought a flash of dizziness.

What was she going to do?

What was she going to say?

4 'Miss Wells?"

"Th-the children were wonderful. They're sleeping soundly right now."

"Did you have any problems when I left?"

Such as her well-ordered existence tumbling down around her ears?

"No. They were fine."

There was a beat of silence.

"Really?"

"Yes." Then she quickly amended, "They cried a bit when they realized you were gone, but I was able to divert their attention with a puzzle."