The Other Twin

“I don’t know how to take care of her. It’s dangerous leaving a child with someone like me. Just...think about it. Please.” He yanked open the door. “Thanks for helping today.”

She slammed the door in his face and snapped the lock shut.

Nathan threw open his apartment door and headed straight to the fridge. His beer opened with a hiss. Now what? If Cheryl refused, who else could he turn to—Daniel? They weren’t that close. His brother would tell him to clean up his own damn mess. Besides, Daniel and Bess were getting married this summer. He wasn’t stupid enough to suggest they take on a kid.

Tipping his head, he slammed back half the beer. How long would Cheryl let—his brain wouldn’t retrieve his kid’s name—stay? He finished the beer and pitched the bottle into the open recycling bin.

After four years, why would Heather insist he take care of their kid?

He dug through the bags, but couldn’t find anything that looked like Heather’s phone number.

He grabbed another beer from the fridge. What the hell should he do now? He kicked back in the lounge chair and drank.

* * *

SOMEONE SCREAMED.

Nathan jerked upright. The leg rest on the lounge chair snapped closed. Hell, he’d fallen asleep.

Another muffled scream came from next door. His heart hammered against his ribs.

Rushing down the hall, he tried Cheryl’s door. Locked. He pounded on it. “Open up!”

His only answer was another scream.

He raced back to his apartment and grabbed his keys, searching for the carriage house master key. No wonder his brother labeled everything, not that letters would have made any sense right now.

He shoved key after key into the lock. Finally one turned. He pushed on the stubborn door, promising he would fix it if everyone was okay.

Another cry broke out. He honed in on the sound and sprinted down the hall.

“You’re safe. You’re all right,” he heard Cheryl murmuring. He burst into the kids’ bedroom.

Cheryl jumped, his daughter in her arms. “What?”

“I heard screaming.” He searched the room for an intruder.

Fear filled Cheryl’s eyes. Josh stared at him like he was the burglar. His daughter shrieked again.

Nathan drew in a breath. “I thought someone had broken in.”

“You did.” Cheryl glared at him, handing him the girl.

“What? No!” He held up his hands and stumbled back.

“Take her,” Cheryl whispered. “Comfort her.”

“Shush now.” He took the kid and ran his hand hesitantly down her back She trembled like a bird cornered by a cat. What had made her scream? “Hush.”

Jesus. Now what?

Cheryl tucked Josh back into bed. “Go back to sleep, honey.”

Nathan bounced Isabella a little. Didn’t people do that with babies? But his daughter was four.

Her arms wrapped around his neck and her muscles softened. How could she trust him? He was a screw-up.

“I think she’s asleep.” He tried to hand her to Cheryl.

She shifted away. “Put her in bed.”

The sheets were pulled back, so he set her in the middle of her pillow. Isabella curled into a ball and whimpered.

“Rub her back.” Irritation filled Cheryl’s voice.

He did and Isabella relaxed under his hand. His tension eased with each stroke. Pulling up the covers, he tucked the sheets into the edge of the bed. His mom had done that. As kids, he and Daniel pretended they were caterpillars, tucked in a cocoon.

After joining Cheryl in the hall, he whispered, “What the hell was that?”

“Night terrors.” Cheryl put her fists on her hips. “How did you get into my apartment?”

“I heard screaming. You didn’t answer the door,” he shot back. “I used the master key.”

Her lip trembled. “Don’t you ever—ever—use that key again.”

He backed away. “Got it.”

There went his idea that they could work together, that she’d take on the role of nanny. That idea had come with his third beer.

Cheryl sniffed. “You’ve been drinking.” She said it like he was a serial killer.

“A couple of beers.” No big deal.

“Get your act together. You have a daughter depending on you.” She stalked down the hall to the kitchen and then pointed at the open door. “You didn’t even close the door!”

“I was worried.” How could he have known about night terrors?

“Out. Pick up Isabella by eight.”

Damn. Who would watch the kid tomorrow?

* * *

CHERYL TAPPED ON the top bunk. “Last call for breakfast.”

Both kids were exhausted from Isabella’s nightmare. Cheryl was tired, too. But the day wouldn’t wait.

She pulled back Isabella’s bedding and caught a whiff of urine. Great. “Time to get up, Isabella.”