Twins times two! (7 page)

Zoe rose on tiptoe to whisper in Cara's ear. "Can we have a cookie?"

"One each. Take them off the plate. The cookies on the baking sheet are still hot."

Ross's presence was quickly forgotten as the little girls thundered into the kitchen, giggling and jabbering to each other.

"They're so..."

"Like your little girls?" Cara finished.

He nodded.

"I couldn't believe it myself last night. I thought it was a horrible joke."

He rubbed his hand over his mouth, staring at a point in midair. "How could this be?"

Cara shrugged. "As near as I've been able to piece together, the twins must have been switched at the hospital."

He was so obviously stunned, that Cara gave him a few moments of silence to think about that long-ago night when his children were born. Although she knew it would have been wiser to speak with her lawyer first, she couldn't deny that she was secretly relieved that the truth was out.

"I've been trying to figure out how to break the news to you," she said softly.

"And the lawyer you were seeing..."

"Last night I was so shocked, so flustered, that I asked the advice of some friends. They told me I should check with a lawyer before telling you anything."

She wasn't sure how he would respond to that, but the comment brought no immediate response, so she didn't think he was offended by the move.

"I still don't know how the hospital could have made such an error," he said, rubbing at a spot between his eyes.

Cara stood and retrieved a framed photo from the side table. In it, two infant children slept through their first hospital portrait.

"When they were first born, we thought they might be identical twins. They were bald with blue eyes..."

Sensing what she was trying to say, Ross removed his wallet and flipped it open to reveal the pictures of two more infant children.

"They look alike," Cara breathed. "They could be quadruplets if we went by these photographs."

Ross breathed deeply. "So they could have been switched at the hospital."

"Let's face it. Mistakes like that rarely happen, but they do happen."

He frowned, his thumb caressing the photograph. "Which leaves us with a dilemma." He looked at Cara, his eyes intent. "What do we do now that we've discovered the error?"

Chapter Five

Cara bit her lip and tried to read Ross's thoughts from the expressions that raced across his face.

What would they do now? Had sharing the news with Ross eased the burden? Or had she merely acquired a whole new set of troubles?

But even as the thought came, Cara knew that there would have been no way to avoid the inevitable. Ross Gifford had a right to know the truth, and if she had delayed the news, she only would have made things worse.

When he remained silent, she asked, "What are you going to do now?"

"I don't know."

He stood and began to pace the narrow confines of the room. A deep line slashed between his brows. His strides were quick and powerful, and Cara had the impression of a tiger that had been unexpectedly caged.

"Your girls. What are their names?"

She didn't fault him for not remembering. His mind was probably still stuck on the discovery he'd just made.

"Heidi and Zoe."

"And the one who looks like my wife is..."

She felt something akin to a pang touch her heart. The one who looks like my wife. He spoke of his wife as if she were still alive.

"Zoe. Zoe is the redhead."

Tension settled into the muscles of her jaw, even though she told herself that she shouldn't feel threatened by the question. He wasn't making a claim on the child, he was just asking for information.

Wasn't he?

"Your brother and his wife. Did either of them have red hair?"

She shook her head. "We have no redheads in our family that we know of. Zoe's coloring always puzzled us. I guess now we know...or I know."

She bit her lip, reminded again that she was alone in making whatever decisions had to be made. The actions and responses she made from this moment on would determine much of the children's future.

Ross was pacing again. His features had grown

even harder, if that was possible, but Cara couldn't even guess at the emotions he must be feeling.

He must be a hell of a lawyer, she realized. If he was able to keep his thoughts so skillfully hidden, he must terrify his adversaries. She shivered, glad that she would not be facing this man on the witness' stand.

From the comer of her eye Cara noted that the children had returned and were watching Ross from the doorway. Their faces were smeared with chocolate and crumbs, and they had never looked more adorable to her.

"What were they like, your brother and sister?" Ross asked.

Cara flicked a glance from Ross to the children. "They were good people. My brother was sensitive and funny and smart. His wife was petite and clever and talented."

"What happened?" The question was offered without a shred of emotion. Cara had grown so accustomed to people offering their immediate sympathies that she found the question unnerving—especially when coming from someone who had experienced a similar tragedy.

Again her gaze darted to the children, but they had tired of the grown-ups and were moving toward the television. Within moments they were fo-

cusing their attention on the television and the antics of Elmo and Big Bird.

"They were killed in a car accident. A drunk driver crossed the median and slammed into them head-on."

Ross winced.

"And your wife?" she breathed, needing to know.

"Cancer. She died soon after the twins were born." He looked at the children again. "How long have you had them?"

"They've been living with me for a year but I became their legal guardian six months ago." She wiped her palms down her dress, hoping that he wouldn't see they were moist.

"You were appointed their legal guardian?"

Her stomach twisted. "Yes. I've already begun formal adoption proceedings."

She wasn't sure if she should have offered the information, but she knew that Ross would find out the details of the arrangement soon enough. It would be better for all concerned if she were honest from the start.

"The children are dealing with the loss?"

"They seem to be. They miss their parents and occasionally ask for them, but the trauma of their deaths seems to be fading. They've even begun to call me Mommy rather than Auntie Cara."

Again she bit her lip to hide the telltale spasm of emotion that gripped her. She still had so many mixed feelings about being called Mommy. She was pleased the twins had accepted her and thrilled that they loved and trusted her as a parent, but she also felt uncomfortable supplanting the role her sister-in-law had played in the twins' lives. She didn't want the twins to forget their parents, even though time had already begun to erase the memories.

Ross paused, his hands resting on his hips. For long moments he stared at the children, then at the carpet.

At that moment Cara would have done anything to read his thoughts. But he continued to wear an inscrutable mask, giving her no clue to the workings of his mind or his heart.

"I've got to go," he said abruptly.

Cara was sure she'd misheard. "What?"

But Ross didn't respond. He was already turning and heading toward the door.

Panicked, Cara jumped to her feet and hurried after him.

"No, you can't just leave. Not yet." Without thinking, she touched his arm, then wished she hadn't. A hot spark ignited at that tiny point of contact and raced through her body, leaving her stunned.

Ross had felt it, too, she knew he had, because

he stared at the spot where her hand touched his sleeve. When he looked up again, his eyes were dark. He had beautiful eyes, rich espresso-brown eyes. If only they weren't so guarded, so...

Bleak.

Her stomach flip-flopped with a fresh bout of nerves.

"You can't just leave," she insisted, forcing herself to concentrate on the twins and their future rather than her own inexplicable yearning to soften the grief that radiated from Ross like an invisible force field. "We've got to talk this out."

Ross pulled away from her, his hand reaching for the doorknob.

"I've got to think about this." When she opened her mouth, he added, "Alone."

Again she reached for his arm. "No. I need to know what you're considering."

Ross sighed. "I don't know what I'm considering. I don't know anything." He glanced at the children. "All I know is that a piece of my wife is sitting on your living room floor watching cartoons, and until a few minutes ago I didn't even know she existed. I'm stunned and...at a loss."

He speared Cara with a glance that chilled her to the bone, then continued, "But my first gut reaction is that she should be with her biological sis-

ter. Just as Becca should be with her biological twin. It's a crime to keep them apart."

Immediately Cara was on her guard. Was Ross trying to tell her that he was contemplating legal action? Was he thinking of claiming Zoe—who with her red hair and blue eyes was obviously his late wife's biological child?

Dear sweet heaven, what had she done? From what Cara had been able to gather, Ross was a powerful man with even more powerful connections. Could he stake a claim on one child? On them both?

Fear flowed through her veins in an icy wave. No. No! She couldn't let him take Zoe away. She couldn't let him disrupt her little family. Not after they'd suffered so much already.

Feeling much like a tiger protecting her cubs, Cara wrenched open the door, then placed her body between Ross and the children.

"I think you're right," she said coldly. "You'd better leave."

Ross jerked as if she'd physically pushed him. "I beg your pardon?"

He was clearly surprised by her sudden stand, and that fact gave her courage. "You'd better go. Now." She pointed at the two girls seated on the floor. "Those are my girls. Mine. And don't you

dare talk about taking them away from me. I won't allow it, do you hear me?"

"Cara, I—"

"No. I'm not going to listen to you anymore. This is my house and these are my children and I think the time has come for you to go."

The muscle in Ross's jaw tensed. "Fine. But we'll be talking about this again. Soon."

As soon as he'd cleared the door, Cara slammed it behind him, then twisted the dead bolt. As she whirled to press her back against the panels, she watched the children bickering over ownership of the remote control and felt huge sobs well up from her heart.

What was she going to do if Ross decided to fight her for the children?

Her legs suddenly lost their strength, and she sank to the ground and began to cry.

What am I going to do?

Ross soon discovered that returning to his own home, to his own children, would not help him pull his thoughts together. He went through all the motions—greeting the twins, informing Stibbs of his discovery, even calling his lawyer. But he couldn't have repeated a single statement that any of them had made. The day was a blur, a moment after Cara had opened her door to reveal her children.

As he stared into the darkness of his bedroom late that night, Ross willed himself to relax. But the exercise was futile. Try as he might, he couldn't escape the reoccurring image of those two little girls—girls identical to his own except for the shorter haircuts.

His mind kept telling him that the whole situation was impossible. Hospitals didn't make mistakes. They had security measures to prevent such things from happening. Ross remembered the plastic security bands he and his wife had worn—and the corresponding bracelets attached to the babies' ankles.

But the twins hadn't been born in the delivery room. There had been a delay in banding the babies due to the confusion of the storm and so many expectant mothers arriving at once. A delay that had obviously allowed time for an error to occur.

His stomach clenched, and he felt a sharp stab of pain deep in his gut—the same kind he'd been experiencing more and more often of late. He was probably heading straight for an ulcer. With his caseload, the death of his wife and now this, heaven only knew he'd earned one.

But he didn't want to dwell on that now. He had to concentrate on the twins. Two sets of twins. One set biologically his, and the other...

His jaw hardened. It didn't matter that Brianne wasn't biologically his. She had become his daughter the moment she'd been placed in his arms. He didn't need blood ties. His bond to her was as strong as if his wife had given birth to her—and he wouldn't give her up.

But neither could he ignore the little redhead living under Cara's roof.

He willed himself to relax, taking deep calming breaths. What would Nancy have thought of these events if she 'd lived?

No. He couldn't think about that now. He couldn't think about his wife or her death or her sweet, sensitive soul. He had to keep his mind on the present. On the twins.

Naturally, there were things that would have to be done. The lawyer in him knew there were tests that would have to be taken in order to confirm the biological identities of the children. He would need to research the legal precedent of such a situation. An investigation of negligence within the hospital would need to be made. Negotiations with Cara concerning the futures of the children would have to be instigated.

His gut twisted again at the mere thought. Only twenty-four hours ago, he'd been toying with the idea of seeing Cara again—on a purely personal

level. He'd envisioned asking her to dinner or a night at the ballet.

Ross sighed. If he'd ever thought that something might develop between Cara and him, such ideas were doomed now. She was obviously terrified of the threat he represented in her life.

But as much as he longed to reassure her, he couldn't. The little redhead in Cara's care was so much like his own Becca—and so much like his late wife—that there was no doubt in Ross's mind of her biological origins. How could he turn his back on that discovery?

Yet, therein lay the dilemma.