The Twin Birthright
Автор
Catherine Mann
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One
Some women dreamed of giving birth in a hospital, husband holding her hand.
Some visualized delivering at home, man of her dreams breathing alongside.
No one fantasized about bringing a new life into the world in an SUV, in a snowstorm, with her ex-fiancé playing “catch the baby.” Or in Naomi Steele’s case, babies. Plural. Two of them. The first of which was due to make an appearance with the next...
“Push! Push, Naomi, push,” Royce Miller’s soft, deep voice radiated confidence in the confines of his Suburban, heater blasting inside, snow pelting the vehicle outside.
“I am pushing, damn it. I’ve been pushing.” Because there wasn’t any need to wait. No help was on the way. Cell phone reception was almost nil on a deserted highway north of Anchorage, Alaska. Sporadic bursts of connectivity offered only minimal reassurance that anyone had heard their pleas for rescue when she’d gone into labor a month early.
Even if help could make it to them through this Alaska blizzard.
The seats of the SUV had been flattened, blankets under her, an emergency kit including first aid spread out beside her. Thank goodness he’d kept his vehicle well stocked in the event of being stranded in a storm. But then of course he had. He was always analytical, organized, the brilliant scientist and professor who planned for any—and every—contingency.
She had her own analytical side as an attorney, but was more known for her flair for the dramatic, which had served her well in the courtroom more than once.
Royce knelt on the floor, his muscular body wedged in, but he still managed to look comfortable. At ease. In control.
Pain ripped through her, her whole body locked in one big muscle spasm beyond anything she’d read about or heard about in child birthing classes. She understood intellectually that a couple of pushes wouldn’t get the job done, especially for a first-time mom, but she was so done. Ready to quit. Close to tears and burning to scream, but she didn’t want to put any additional burden on Royce when he had to be afraid, in spite of his calm demeanor.
Beads of sweat rolled down his face.
And she knew she wasn’t going to get any relief with this contraction. Disappointment stung even as the pain eased. She exhaled and sagged back. Taking the moment to store up every kernel of energy as best she could.
Light from outside grew dimmer with the ending day and thick storm. Their car lights provided minimal illumination. Royce had hung two flashlights with bungie cords. She didn’t want to think about what would happen if this took too long and they ran out of gasoline.
After months on bed rest for her blood pressure, Naomi had been released by the doctor today. Once they’d finished the appointment, all she’d wanted was a simple afternoon drive and to celebrate a less restricted final month of her pregnancy. She was sure about their due date, since hers had been an in vitro fertilization, with a donor sperm. When she’d made the decision, she’d been worried her chance to be a mother was passing her by; that was before she met eccentric research scientist Royce Miller. Their relationship had been doomed from the start. She’d been just over two months pregnant and it had been too easy for him to use her babies as a substitute for his unresolved past.
Royce patted her knee with his broad hand. “Are you warm enough?” The wind howled, nearly drowning out his words. “I’ve got my coat ready for the babies, but I can give you my shirt.”
She knew those beads of sweat on his forehead had nothing to do with the temperature in the vehicle.
“I’m fine, really.” Even if she had been cold—which she wasn’t because currently her body was on fire with pain—she couldn’t take anything more from Royce. He’d given up so much of his life for her, even after they’d ended their engagement. He’d seemed to feel obligated to stay by her side until the babies were born. Every day since the breakup had been bittersweet torture. Being with him filled her with regret, sadness but—ultimately—resolve.
And she’d needed that resolve to stand her ground—she’d made the right decision in ending things—and stand up to this silently stubborn man. He’d steadfastly continued to show up with his own agenda.
Like insisting on driving her to the doctor’s office today even though she had over a dozen family members who would have stepped in to help. After the smooth-as-silk OB visit, Royce hadn’t driven far and the weather report had been clear as a bell. They’d been doing everything right—
Another contraction hit her hard and fast, with minimal buildup to warn her. She held back the urge to shout, and forced even breaths in and out—well, as even as possible. The distant sound of Royce counting to ten grounded her until, finally, the contraction subsided and she could relax again.
He was always so careful and precise. Unlike her reckless self. They’d broken up twice, and the second time had stuck. Well, stuck in that they stopped sleeping together and any mention of the love they’d once shared was off-limits.
And like karma laughing in her face at supposed boundaries, here she was, stuck in a snowstorm with him, just like the day they’d met nearly six months ago. Theirs had been a whirlwind romance, with an engagement that had ended nearly as quickly as it had begun.
They were just too different. They wanted different things.
At first, they’d struggled with her need to prove her strength and independence, a by-product of her teenage battle with cancer. His overprotective ways had been stifling. But eventually they’d found a balance in that. Even so, in the end, there’d been another, larger problem lurking, one core to their personalities. Something they couldn’t change.
He was a brilliant, reclusive man who thrived on his work, but battled emotional insecurity, searching for a “replacement” family. She was an extrovert who flourished in the courtroom and in the company of her big, boisterous family. She’d nearly gone stir-crazy in their secluded cabin. And he’d been climbing the walls when they’d tried living in the city. She couldn’t bear to see him lose what made him so special in the first place. They’d had to admit they were just too different.
And he was an admirable man. That ripped at her most of all. Still, she’d tried to push him away, but no matter what she’d said and done, he wouldn’t go. His stubbornness only solidified her opinion that any emotion he’d invested in their time together was all about the babies.
He had insisted on staying in touch during her pregnancy, helping, even though the babies weren’t his biological children. Seeing him was beyond difficult. Her heart broke over and over again. But given that he consulted for her family’s oil business, there was no avoiding each other completely. They had to learn to coexist peacefully.
She just hadn’t expected that coexisting to include him parked between her bent knees delivering her twins—
Another pain gripped her, and as hard as she tried to force those breaths in and out, panic built. “I’m scared,” she gasped, fighting against the pain, which only made it worse. “What if something’s wrong? We’re out in the middle of nowhere—”
“Breathe, Naomi, breathe. Everything’s going to be okay.”
“Like you have—” she huffed a half-hearted breath “—any choice—” another gasp “—but to say that.”
“All was well at your last checkup...” He paused, then continued, his voice intense, “I see the baby’s head coming closer. You’re doing it. Come on, Naomi.”
“How do you know?” she groused, while pushing, gripping the door handle.
He rested a hand on her knee, catching her gaze with his deep brown eyes as the contraction subsided. He was steady. In control. “I’ve actually delivered a baby before.”
“Really?” She wanted to believe it. So much.
“I never told you that?” The smile on his handsome face lit hope inside her.
“No, you didn’t.” But then they hadn’t known each other even a year yet. So much passion—and then heartbreak—had been packed into a short time. They hadn’t been able to keep their hands off each other from the start. They’d let that sexual connection take precedence over getting to know each other.
“Let’s get these babies into the world and I’ll tell you all about it.”
The next contraction cut short anything she might have thought about saying, if she could even remember words. Pain gripped her. More powerful than any of the others. Pressure built, intensified until she lost track of counting. It surely had to be more than ten—
The pressure released and the vehicle filled with...cries. Her baby. Tears welled in Naomi’s eyes, blurring the vision of Royce holding her newborn child up for her to see.
“It’s a girl,” he said, emotion clogging his voice as he confirmed the gender ultrasounds had shown.
But hearing it now still carried such a momentous thrill.
“She’s okay?”
“A healthy set of lungs, ten fingers and ten toes.”
Once Royce tied off the cord and wrapped the infant in his parka, he passed the bundle to Naomi, who held out her arms. She cradled the precious weight against her, marveling in gazing at her child for the first time. Love swelled in her heart and she looked at Royce. Just as another contraction gripped her. He reached over her to settle the baby at her side.
Naomi gasped, “I guess...now...I know with absolute...certainty that you have...delivered a baby before.”
His low chuckle filled the SUV just before the pressure built again, until she felt the familiar release. Followed by another infant cry.
“Naomi, you have another healthy baby girl.” Royce’s joy was mixed with a hint of a tremble that relayed yes, he must have been more nervous than he let on.
How could he not have been?
But all that mattered now was that her twins were alive. Safe. She sagged back in relief, holding her first child against her side and reaching out her arm for the other.
Royce wrapped the second newborn in her pink parka and passed the baby over. Naomi stared into those wide curious eyes and thought of her sister, Breanna, who’d died over a decade before, along with their mother.
The connection between Naomi and her sister had been strong. They were fraternal twins. Although people had often thought Breanna was Marshall’s twin since she favored him so closely when they were young, and they were inseparable. Who knew how her sister would have looked as an adult since she’d died so young. Naomi swallowed back a lump of emotion and focused on the present. This joy.
Royce settled her legs and rested a blanket over her, before stretching up to lie beside her. “I’ve sent out texts for help. Let’s just enjoy the babies and stay warm while we wait.”
He climbed onto the reclined seats, curving his muscular body against her, somehow making room for himself in spite of the seat belts draped overhead and flashlights suspended from bungees. He was so familiar, and Lord, how she’d missed the feel of him, this closeness. She’d once dreamed of them like this, except spooned together in a hospital bed with the babies, all of them a family.
She looked over at him and found him studying the babies, which allowed her to stare at him longer. He was so much more than broodingly handsome good looks. The appeal was more than his leanly muscle-bound body on display in his chest-hugging T-shirt. And yeah, he got bonus points for the thick dark hair a hint too long, as if he’d forgotten to get a haircut, tousled like he’d just gotten out of bed.
All enticing. Sure.
But it was always his eyes that held her. Those windows to the soul. To the man. A man with laser-sharp intelligence in his deep brown gaze that pierced straight to the core of her and seemed to say, Bring it, woman. I can keep up.
And he had. He’d been willing to make every compromise to secure her—and her babies—in his life in a sad effort to recreate what he’d lost when his former fiancée had miscarried, then walked away.
Naomi couldn’t risk hoping for a future with him, now more than ever, with the stability and well-being of these two precious little lives counting on her. If only they could all four stay just like this forever, warm and secure together while the storm raged outside.
A crack echoed, interrupting her thoughts, and she glanced up sharply to see an ice-laden tree fall across the hood of Royce’s SUV.
* * *
Compartmentalizing was easier said than done.
Royce Miller wanted to be the cool scientist, detached. But this was Naomi. Her babies.
Not his.
His chest ached as if he’d sucked in a gulp of frozen air. He tucked his arm around her tighter as she catnapped, the babies sleeping against her chest.
Earlier, while she’d nursed the babies, he’d sent out a slew of additional texts, hoping one would make it through the storm. The SUV was still running, and he had extra fuel in the emergency kit. But once they needed that, he would have to try to move the tree off the hood. Hopefully, the SUV would be in shape to drive, although that was a last resort in this weather. Especially with two infants and no car seats.
He’d turned off all but one of the flashlights now to preserve batteries. His heart still slugged against his ribs in the aftermath. He could still barely wrap his brain around the fact that he’d delivered the babies. That Naomi was okay. Relief mixed with the reality that until he had them all in a hospital, he couldn’t breathe easy.
After scanning the babies, checking that their chests rose and fell evenly, he glanced at the pulse in Naomi’s neck. He grounded himself in the steady rhythm.
“Royce?” she whispered.
Her soft voice drew his gaze to her face. The look in her tired but beautiful eyes was...incredible. Shining brighter than the flashlight overhead.
He’d had her, and she’d slipped away from him.
It still grated deep in his gut how she’d pushed him away, given up on what they’d shared, what they could have had in the future. It was hard as hell to forgive how she’d just let go.
He brushed back her hair from her forehead, the softness of her skin soaking into him. “Here we are again, stuck together.”
“Your SUV is almost as big as that little cabin you were staying in.” She smiled at him wryly. “Somehow, we always manage the craziest scenarios. The way you chased that bear off my car when we first met.”
Memories of that day filled him. How she’d bluffed her way into his cabin retreat to convince him to sign on his research with her family’s oil business—Alaska Oil Barons, Incorporated. He’d been resistant, but man, how she’d won him over with her lawyer skills—and her smile.
And her bravado in the face of an unexpected grizzly climbing on the hood of her vehicle when she’d arrived at his cabin. “I suspect you could have handled that massive Pooh Bear yourself.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“It was intended as one.”
She was a gutsy woman with an indomitable spirit he admired. Pulling his gaze away from her intoxicating whiskey-brown eyes, he looked out the window. The snow had turned to sleet, pinging on the rooftop in the silence between them.
Naomi shifted and settled. “Now you’ve saved me again. And my girls. Maybe I could have handled that bear, but I couldn’t have delivered my own babies.”
“Happy to help. And even happier everyone’s okay.” Relief still burned through his veins. So much could have gone wrong. Still could, if help didn’t arrive soon. “As much as it seems we have these somewhat similar crazy turns in our lives, a lot is different.”
She chuckled hoarsely. “Like the fact that there’s not a chance we’ll be having sex this time.”
He tapped his temple. “I’m intuitive that way.”
Except he hadn’t been so intuitive at the start. He’d fallen for the deception that brought her into his life. She’d hidden her identity as a Steele, hoping to get an inside scoop on his research, and ultimately lure him into signing on with her family business. He’d seen only her, wanted her, was determined to have her. And he’d ignored all the warning signs. In fact, he could see now how they’d both used sex to avoid talking about the deeper issues that would later tear them apart.
Resting her head on his shoulder, she sighed. “Thank you, so much. You were amazing and calm. I can’t believe everything went okay. They’re healthy and alive and I’m still here.”
“Yes, you are.” He swallowed hard.
“They’re beautiful.” Her voice rang with awe and love.
“That they are.” Like their mama. “Have you settled on names yet?”
“Mary for my mother...” She pressed a kiss to the forehead of her firstborn, still wrapped in his jacket. “And I was thinking Breanna and call her Anna—” she kissed the clenched fist of her baby wrapped in her pink parka “—in honor of my sister.”
Both of whom had died in a plane crash.
He knew well what a mark her sister and mother’s deaths had left on her ability to believe happiness could last. Her teenage bout with cancer had piled onto that doubt, chipping away at what remained of her capacity for trust in happy endings.
“That’s a lovely tribute. What about middle names?”
“Mary Jaqueline, after both of my parents, Mary and Jack. And I hope you won’t mind if I name the other Breanna Royce.” Naomi’s eyes filled with emotion and a sheen of regret. “You’ve been here for me, but I understand if—”
“That’s perfect. Thank you. I’m honored.” Emotion, too much, threatened to steal his focus. He sealed it off and looked for tangible, logical facts. “I would guess they each weigh nearly six pounds. That’s remarkable for twins a month early.”
She studied him for an intense moment before blinking and glancing away. “No wonder I looked as big as a house.”
“You were—and are—beautiful.”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s nice not to be arguing with a woman who just gave birth in a car.”
“I don’t fight.”
“True.” She crinkled her nose, shadows chasing across her face. “But you seethe, holding it in either out of some reclusive habit, or fear of spiking the blood pressure of the pregnant woman.” She touched his arm lightly, her nails short and painted a pale pink. “I mean that nicely. You’ve been kind when you had every right to hate me.”
Her words stabbed him clean through. “I could never hate you.”
“We’re just wrong for each other.”
He couldn’t deny that, as much as it hurt to admit. Things had moved so fast with them. And then they were done.
“Life’s complicated.” He studied each baby’s face, their features imprinting themselves in his mind. In his heart. “But right now, it feels blessedly simple.”
Or at least he wanted it to be. Here in the dimly lit car, the whistle of the wind cutting through the Alaska night. A dream he’d entertained more than once in the past. Before. A whimsical thought that wasn’t like him.
She’d insisted he was trying to replace the fiancée who’d walked out on him after miscarrying their child years ago. That he’d been trying to replace that baby, as well. He couldn’t deny those losses had hurt like hell. But the breakup with Naomi had been exponentially worse.
Maybe she was right about his need to fill a hole in his life that had never healed after the baby he’d lost. But all he’d known after breaking up with Naomi was that no matter what had happened between them, he needed to usher the twins into the world before he could walk away.
Light sparked behind his eyes. Becoming stronger and stronger until he couldn’t blink it away. He frowned, sitting up, looking outside.
Car lights approached, twin beams streaking ahead, an emergency light strobing. Help had arrived. Thank God. Yet with that help came another realization.
As much as he’d thought he could cut ties once the babies were born, he still couldn’t walk away. Not tonight.
