Twins For Christmas. Amanda Renee
two months ago. She wondered how Lauren had managed in Boston by herself. She had never complained, saying each day was a blessing. She had seen the beauty and grace in the simplest of things, whereas Hannah had always questioned everything.
Thanksgiving was a casual affair at the Tanner household. She threw on a pair of jeans, an ivory draped top and her favorite pair of Old Gringo boots, which Lauren had given her last Christmas. She quickly applied a little mascara and a slick of gloss over her lips on the way out the door.
She’d given Noah the address of her parents’ ranch. Back in their heyday, her parents had been sheep wool farmers. She asked him to meet them there around noon, and as she unfastened the twins’ car seat buckles, he drove toward her along the main ranch road. “Let me help you,” Noah said as he stepped from his car.
His arm brushed against hers as he reached into the cab and lifted Cheyenne out of her seat. Hannah shook off the tingling sensation it created, reminding herself of the Girlfriend’s Golden Rule—never lust after or date your best friend’s ex. Hannah gasped. The unexpected thought sucked the breath from her lungs. Any tingle from Noah would be completely inappropriate. She couldn’t betray Lauren. She wouldn’t.
“You look nice, by the way.” Noah’s voice snapped her to attention.
His casual comments didn’t help matters. “Thank you.” Every minute she spent around Noah, she understood Lauren’s attraction to him more. Granted the man would be in her life forever because of the girls, but it didn’t mean it was a one-way pass to a relationship.
“Are children their age permitted to ride in the front seat of the truck?”
His question knocked her off-kilter. She didn’t appreciate the insinuation she was illegally toting the kids around. “I assure you it’s quite legal. If a pickup truck doesn’t have an extended cab, children can ride up front if they are in an appropriate car seat or safety harness.” Hannah had read the manuals. She knew the rules. She’d even had the police department install the seats. There was no doubt in her mind the children were safe. Her truck wasn’t ideal, but she couldn’t afford a more child-friendly vehicle right now.
“Whoa, I didn’t mean to offend you.” Noah hip-checked the truck door closed once the twins were out. “Although I can see why you would be. I’m sorry. I guess I’m being overly protective. I mean, that’s what I’m supposed to do, right? That’s a fatherly thing.”
Hannah tried not to laugh at his explanation. He really was new to this. “I’m the one who should apologize. You’re asking the right questions. I’d be worried if you weren’t. This is old hat to us Charlotte and Cheyenne veterans.” She tugged at the bottom of Charlotte’s dress where it had caught in her white stockings. Not that those would last more than an hour the way the kids played. “For the record, I haven’t told anyone who you are yet. I mentioned I was bringing someone to dinner and figured we could tell them together. But again I ask you, please be careful what you say in front of the twins.”
Noah leaned closer to Hannah so the girls wouldn’t overhear. “I’m their father. You do plan on allowing me to tell them sometime soon, don’t you?”
“Yes, of course.” Hannah had the sinking feeling the next sixteen and a half years would be much harder than she’d imagined. He’d probably ask for a visitation schedule. She wasn’t ready for any overnight visits to his house and neither were the girls. “I’ve spent almost every day of their lives with them. I know what’s best. Trust me.”
Hannah introduced Noah to all sixteen members of her family—newly enlarged courtesy of her brother Clay’s marriage to Abby.
Once the girls were playing safely out of earshot, Hannah gathered her parents, brother and sister-in law together in the kitchen.
“I have something to tell you,” Hannah began. Her stomach clenched. “Noah isn’t just a friend of mine. He’s Charlotte and Cheyenne’s biological father.”
“Heaven help us.” Hannah’s mother reached for the counter to steady herself. “What does this mean?”
“It doesn’t mean anything yet.” Hannah spoke before Noah had a chance to respond. “The girls don’t know and we need to take this day by day.”
Noah excused himself, and for a brief second, Hannah wondered if he was making a break for it. From the outside looking in, she could see how her clan could be a tad intimidating.
“Why didn’t you call me as soon as Noah made contact with you?” Clay demanded. “I need to run him through the system and make sure he’s legit. I assume you’re going to schedule a paternity test. Taking this man at his word isn’t smart or safe.”
Hannah reeled from her brother’s onslaught of questions and demands. It was the downside to having a private investigator in the family. “I’m quite certain he’ll want a paternity test. But I’m positive he’s the father. He was the only person Lauren had been with during that time. As for a background check, I’m fine with it. I don’t think he needs to know, though.”
“Where does he even live?” Clay asked. “And what are his intentions with the twins?”
“I don’t know.” Lauren and Noah hadn’t spent much of their night together talking. And Hannah hadn’t thought to ask during his visit yesterday afternoon. “He met Lauren in College Station and he learned of her death there, too, so I’m assuming he lives somewhere in that vicinity.” It wasn’t next door, but three and a half hours away would allow him to visit on weekends. Maybe after a while she’d even be willing to make up a guest room for him so he could spend more time with his daughters.
Clay rolled his eyes. “My naive little sister, things aren’t always as they appear on the surface. What’s his last name? I’ll have one of my associates begin working on it.”
Hannah hadn’t remembered him mentioning a last name. She groaned inwardly. “I have no idea. I took him at his word.” Maybe she had more of Lauren in her than she thought.
“I’ll handle it. Until we know more about him, you should limit his time with the twins and make sure someone else is there when he’s around.” Clay enveloped her in a hug.
“I know this is hard, kiddo.” Hannah’s father joined them. “We’ll help you through it any way we can. Clay’s right, though. Until we know more about him, you need to keep your distance. At the very least, have one of us there with you.”
They rejoined the rest of the family as Noah reappeared bearing a bouquet for her mother and a couple of bottles of wine for her father. Her parents appreciated the sweet gesture. Something Lauren used to say came to mind: “You can’t fake sincerity.” Hannah had always argued that fact, until yesterday. Noah seemed genuinely enamored with his daughters, which was what Lauren had always hoped for. She had always vowed to find him one day.
By the end of dinner, Clay had grilled Noah more than a steak on a barbecue. His last name was Knight...as in shining armor. Lauren would have howled at that. And his first name was William. But there had been so many Williams in his kindergarten class he’d asked the teacher to use his middle name instead. He went by Noah from then on. That explained why Clay hadn’t been able to locate a pilot named Noah when Lauren asked him to find the father of her unborn babies. His job as a helicopter-logging pilot sounded as cool as it did dangerous.
“Aren’t you concerned with deforestation?” Hannah’s father, Gage, asked.
“Heli-logging actually works in harmony with the environment. Instead of scarring the hillside by dragging the logs out or building new roads to transport them, I’m able to lift a telephone pole–sized log straight up.”
“So you’re not creating huge sections of missing trees?” Abby asked.
“No, we’re not clear-cutting,” Noah continued. “We’re also eliminating the soil erosion that can arise from traditional logging.” Noah reached across the table for the salt and pepper shakers and placed them in front of his plate. “Heli-logging