Rancher's Twins: Mum Needed

When Gray and Holly were safely down the hallway once more, Gray let out his breath with a whoosh.

‘My God,’ he said quietly. ‘That scared the living daylights out of me. I’d rather hear a crocodile growling at my elbow than my own daughter screaming.’

‘Anna’s screams are heart-rending,’ Holly agreed.

‘Has this been happening all along? Ever since Chelsea—?’

Holly nodded. ‘It was worse at first. She’s getting better. This is the first nightmare in a while.’

‘Maybe she’s had too much excitement for one day.’

‘Perhaps that’s it.’

Gray let out a heavy sigh. ‘I’m sure I’m not going to be able to get back to sleep.’ He ran stiff fingers through his thick dark hair. ‘It’s two o’clock in the afternoon where I come from. Would I disturb you too much if I made a cuppa?’

‘No, not at all. Go right ahead.’

‘If I make tea, would you like a cup?’

‘Tea?’ She laughed. ‘English tea?’

He shrugged. ‘English, American … I’m not fussy.’

‘I’m afraid I only have green tea or camomile.’

He pulled a face. ‘How about wine, then? I bought a couple of Australian reds in the duty-free.’

No, thank you.

Holly was sure she should get straight back to her room. Right now. She should not sit around in the middle of the night in her jammies having cosy chats and glasses of vino with her charges’ scarily handsome father.

‘I … I’d love a glass. I’ll … um … just grab a wrap.’

Okay, I’m a bird-brain, but I do have a good excuse, Holly consoled herself as she hurried away. Gray needed to talk about his children. He needed to debrief after the scare he’d had with Anna.

By the time she came back into the kitchen, safely covered by a tightly knotted kimono that ended well below her knees, Gray had, mercifully, pulled on jeans and a T-shirt and he was freeing the cork from a bottle.

CHAPTER FOUR

GRAY was extremely grateful that Holly was prepared to sit and have a drink with him at midnight.

His daughter’s screams had shocked him and, even though Anna had calmed quite quickly in his arms, the experience had left him feeling shaken. Anxious.

Now, more than ever, he was aware of his lack of skills. There was so much he didn’t know, didn’t understand about his children. He wouldn’t be able to read the experts’ books on psychology and grief and yet, very soon, Anna and Josh would be completely in his care.

Suddenly, his excitement over having them back in his life was mixed with terror. All his failures came back to haunt him—all the problems stemming from his childhood that had tainted his marriage.

Hell. How could he be a good single father? How could he be a role model for his kids? He’d let his parents down, let his wife down. Would he let his children down, too?

Worries chased each other, snapping like dogs at the heels of his thoughts as he and Holly sat on the corner sofas next to plate glass windows with views of the city.

They left the lamps turned low and the curtains open so they could see the black towers of the skyscrapers dotted with squares of lemon light. From below came the non-stop honk and roar of traffic. New York, the city that never sleeps.

It was a wonder anyone could ever sleep here with that constant racket, Gray thought wryly.

Holly was now wrapped in an elegant dressing gown of jade-green silk with a pattern of graceful white cranes. She sat with her bare feet tucked to one side, slim fingers curled around her glass of wine.

‘It’s a Margaret River red,’ he said. ‘Should be good. Cheers.’

She smiled faintly as she raised her glass. ‘Cheers.’

They sipped the wine and shared satisfied smiles. The wine was very good.

At first they talked about practical things, about the kinds of clothes the children would need immediately in Australia, and what could be boxed for posting. There were toys to be sorted, too—favourites to go with the children now, some to be sent to charities, others to be shipped.

‘How will Anna and Josh feel about leaving their friends behind?’ Gray asked.

‘Their school friends?’ Holly shrugged. ‘I don’t think that will be a problem. Little kids move on. Friends come and go.’ She smiled. ‘Don’t look so worried, Gray. Josh is cracking his neck to get to your ranch.’

Somewhat reassured, Gray had to ask the question that really bothered him. ‘About Anna’s nightmares—’

‘Yes?’

‘Do you know why she has them? Could it be because she was with Chelsea when it … when the aneurism … happened?’

‘There’s a good chance.’ Holly dropped her gaze to her glass. ‘Chelsea collapsed when she was in the middle of making Anna a peanut butter sandwich.’

It was almost too awful to imagine. Poor Anna. Poor

Chelsea. For a moment he couldn’t think past the horror of it. How helpless and terrified Anna must have felt and, quite possibly, even guilty.

He sighed heavily. ‘Does Josh have nightmares, too?’

Holly’s dark hair rippled as she shook her head. ‘I think Josh is naturally more resilient than Anna. But he rang for the ambulance, so he knows he did everything he could. I’m sure that’s helped him, even if it’s only at some subconscious level.’

It made sense, and the reminder of his son’s quick thinking caused a small glow of pride. But poor Anna shouldn’t feel guilty. ‘There must be so much I need to understand. Is there anything else you should warn me about?’

Frowning, Holly took another sip of wine before she answered. ‘I actually wish Josh showed more signs of grief. He’s been bottling it in and I’m sure a good cry would do him good.’

‘He probably thinks crying is for girls.’

‘Probably. My brothers would agree.’ Holly sighed. ‘He probably needs to be encouraged to talk about it.’

Gray grimaced. Talking about feelings? Sharing emotions with others? That was so not his scene. Weren’t women supposed to be so much better at it than guys? All his life, he’d been a man of action, not words.

Watching him, Holly said, ‘I guess you must be very busy running your ranch. I assume you’ve hired a nanny to help with the children.’

‘Ah …’ Gray drew a sharp breath. ‘So far, I’ve organised a team to look after the mustering, so that frees me up quite a bit. My plan was to wait till I saw Anna and Josh—and saw how they were. I thought I’d take them home, help them to settle in first, then look around for someone suitable.’