Twins Times Two!

“I didn’t think a person could actually get a job with a master’s in philosophy.”

Of all the nerve.

Her nerves stretched tight. “I find it immensely helpful when spending the evening with toddlers. You’d be amazed how many of them are well-versed in Descartes.”

Although she’d tried to keep her tone light, there was enough of a bite to it that Ross must have realized she didn’t appreciate being grilled.

His lips twitched in a self-deprecating grimace. “I hope you’ll bear with me. My children can be a…challenge. I merely wanted to make sure they would be in good hands.”

His shoulders shifted as if his jacket had grown too tight, and Cara wondered how many sitters had refused to help him before he’d come to the Mom Squad.

“I should have known your agency would send someone equal to the task,” he said, ushering her in with a wave of his hand. “Melba is a jewel. I was sorry to hear she was rushed to the hospital. How is she?”

“In surgery now, but I’ll be getting calls updating her progress throughout the evening.”

Ross nodded, absorbing the information with the intensity of a man being given stock-market quotes. “I’d appreciate it if you’d keep me posted. The twins and I are very fond of Melba.”

“I’ll do that.”

Without another word Ross turned, making his way toward a wide, sweeping staircase. “Sorry for the rush, but I’ve got less than an hour to get to a benefit dinner.”

“No problem.”

She followed him up the lushly carpeted staircase, trying her best not to look as if she were gawking. The staircase was a sweeping expanse of rich wood carved with wild animals, flowers and vines. The pale carpet underfoot looked too rich to be anything but wool.

Ross Gifford’s house was immense, with high-pitched ceilings, stark white walls and pale ice-white carpets. Except for occasional splashes of color from jewel-toned pillows and the rich woodwork, everything seemed pale and colorless….

And sterile.

Again she was reminded of the fact that this man was a widower. There had been no feminine touches added to the house, no knickknacks, no family photographs, no scattered toys. If not for her job assignment, there would have been no clues that children lived here. No clues that anyone lived here at all.

Again she was filled with the sensation of having entered a showplace for the Parade of Homes design competition and the thought filled her with sadness. The house had so much promise. So much effort had been expended to make it look beautiful, but no one as yet had taken the time to make it feel like a home.

Only once did she get a hint that a family lived here. Midway down the corridor she saw a portrait of a woman with bright-red hair and piercing blue eyes.

Was this Ross’s late wife?

Cara felt a twinge of sadness. How long had Ross Gifford’s wife been gone? Months? Years? Were the occupants of this house still mourning her passing?

“There’s a small kitchenette in the children’s wing.”

Wing? His children had a wing to themselves?

“The play area is located in the south turret, and their rooms are on either side. I’ve left my pager number, my cell number and a list of emergency contacts taped on the refrigerator. The twins have already eaten, but they may want a small snack before bedtime. Stibbs has left some fruit, milk and wheat-germ cookies.”

Wheat-germ cookies? No doubt they were healthy but they sounded less than appealing.

“The children need to be in bed promptly at 8:00 p.m. Their pajamas are waiting on the counter in the bathroom. They’ll need to be bathed first.”

“Of course.” Ross’s tone was so clipped Cara had the sensation of being briefed for battle.

“Other than that, the twins can be a handful once they realize I’ve left them for the evening, but they are usually well behaved. If they act out in any way, feel free to give them a paddling, but I’ve rarely found such a measure necessary.”

Cara bit her lip to keep from saying that she was a proponent of time-out rather than spanking. It wasn’t any of her business how Ross chose to discipline his children.

“If you have any problems at all, please call me. I’ve made arrangements to leave early, so I should be home no later than eleven.”

He stopped in front of a set of double doors. Glancing at his watch, he depressed the brass handle. “I won’t stay other than to quickly introduce you. If the children catch on that I’m going somewhere without them, they’ll scream and cry. They handle things better if I go quickly.”

“That’s fine. I’m sure we’ll all have a great evening together.”

Ross’s brow creased. “I wouldn’t go at all if there were any way to get out of this event. But…”

Despite his stern manner, her heart warmed at his apparent reluctance to leave the children even for a few hours. “We’ll be fine. Feel free to call if you want to check on us.”

“No. That won’t be necessary. I’ve always had good luck with the people sent by your agency.” He paused, opened his mouth as if to say something, then clearly thought better of it. “Well, here goes…”

In one smooth motion he opened up the door, revealing a child’s fantasy playroom on the other side.

“Becca, Brianne…this is Melba’s friend, Cara. She’s come to play with you for a little while. You be good for her, okay?”

In that instant a pair of children came running from the other side of the room, moving into Cara’s line of sight.

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.