Bartered Bride Romance Collection (48 page)

The squalling of the infant Bess held suddenly became amplified. It took him a moment to realize a second cry had joined the first. Bess understood first. “Twins?” she asked, her voice cracking with amazement. “It’s obviously a family thing.” She headed down the stairs with her little bundle while Luke hurried to respond to Matty’s second appearance in the doorway.

“Twin girls,” she announced, surrendering the second bundle to Luke. “Ask Bess to get her cleaned up, too, then bring them back for Corrie to see right away.”

“Is Corrie okay?” This time Luke’s attention wasn’t going to be stolen by feminine wiles, no matter how tiny or inexperienced.

Matty smiled broadly. “She is. She’s tired but in good shape.”

Relief flowed through him so strongly he felt his legs tremble. Matty placed her hands beneath his as he held the baby. “Careful, don’t drop her. When you bring the babies back, I’ll let you see Corrie for yourself.”

It seemed to take forever for Bess to get the little ones cleaned up and wrapped in blankets. He held the first as she took care of the second. Then she placed the second little one in his other arm. He relished the armful. “Go ahead,” Bess said, her eyes shining. “You deserve the honor of delivering them both to their mama.”

He’d never taken the stairs so carefully yet so joyously. The longer he held these little ones, the more he felt his heart being overtaken by them. He’d witnessed birth many times in the barn, but nothing could compare to the wonder of the human life he held.

Matty held the door open for him as he approached. Then he was beside Corrie’s bed, where somehow he managed to kneel in spite of his cherished burden. Her face was still lined with the agony and effort of the night, but she’d never looked more beautiful to him. “Corrie, I’d like you to meet your daughters,” Matty said as she helped him lay first one, then the other, on Corrie’s chest. She looked down at the babies, radiance replacing the night’s imprint on her features. “They’re beautiful,” she whispered. “Twins, just like us, Tilde. Thank you.” She looked first at her sister then held Luke’s gaze for a long moment. “Thank you, too.” Her attention returned to her daughters. Luke slipped out of the room and made his way quickly outside to the barn. He needed privacy before the tears of relief, joy, and love escaped.

Chapter 9

C
orrie floated for days on the euphoria of love for her babies, whom she named Brianne and Madeline, after their father and their aunt. Though her body was sore and unbroken sleep seemed but a distant memory, she couldn’t get enough of watching them, touching them, feeding them, caring for them. She had no idea how she would have managed without the ready assistance of her sisters. They kept the never-ending pile of laundry from taking over her room, brought her meals, and cuddled one fussy baby while she nursed the other.

In the evenings, she ventured downstairs. There she found both Jim and Luke eager to take their turns with the babies. She turned to mush inside every time she saw one of the big ranchers so tenderly cradling one of her daughters. One night she caught tears in Matty’s eyes as Jim cooed to Madeline. Though Matty had a tender heart, she was rarely moved to tears. Was something amiss? Corrie studied her twin and decided the little ones had turned them all to mush.

Almost before she could catch a breath, Christmas arrived. The celebration wasn’t the rollicking noisy time she remembered from her childhood, but the quietness of it suited her mood this year. She was surprised to find that each of her sisters had made gifts for her daughters as well as for her. Matty and Bess had sewn her loose, front-opening dresses. Each garment came with a belt, which would pull in some of the fullness as she regained her figure. They’d also sewn a pile of baby nightgowns, which they presented, wrapped in two soft blankets.

“Wherever did you get such soft fabric?” Corrie asked as she fingered the edges. Matty and Bess exchanged smiles. “We bought it before we left Rhode Island,” Matty explained, “knowing you’d need baby-type Christmas presents. There’s enough fabric left for two larger blankets for when they’re older.”

Bertie had carved a lovely wooden plaque with the babies’ names and birth dates. “That’s all I had time to do,” she explained. “I hope you don’t mind having them share it.”

Corrie embraced her younger sister, touched by the uncertainty in her eyes. “It’s a perfect gift, Bertie. I’ll treasure it always.”

She hadn’t noticed Luke leave the room, but now he appeared, lugging a large, burlap-wrapped object. “My present is mostly for the babies, but I hope you’ll like it, too.” He set it in front of her.

Corrie slowly pulled the burlap away. “Ohhhh,” she breathed in wonder, running her fingers over an intricately carved wooden cradle. “It’s even wide enough for both of them.”

He grinned. “I did have to expand it after they arrived. Now that winter is here, I plan to make another so they can each have their own bed when they’re too big to share this one. For now, though, I thought they’d be happier sleeping together.”

Her eyes filled with the tears that never seemed far away. She’d noticed the girls did prefer to sleep not only together, but touching one another. That he’d so accurately perceived her children’s needs touched her more deeply than his ever-present concern for her. As she blinked away the tears, she noticed a cutout carving at one end of the cradle. Four intertwined hearts. She counted them again to be sure the tears hadn’t warped her vision. Four.

She looked into his eyes. His steady gaze held hers, and she knew. As always, he wouldn’t press his suit. The cradle was his declaration just the same. If she wanted his heart, he was ready to give it. Not just to her, but to all three of them. She smiled her thanks then held out her arms for her babies, who were being cuddled by Bess and Bertie. “Time for mama and babies to have a rest.” Her emotions had suddenly become too much for her, strangling her thoughts. She needed to get away to collect herself.

“May I bring the cradle up?” Luke asked softly.

She nodded and then made her way upstairs. It took a bit of shifting around to get the furniture arranged in such a way that she wouldn’t bang her legs on something every time she moved, but eventually they found a solution. She settled the sleeping little ones in their new bed and nudged the rocker with her foot to set it in motion. “It’s beautiful, Luke. Thank you.”

“I enjoyed making it,” he answered softly, one large finger tracing the hearts as the cradle rocked.

When the door thumped closed behind him, somehow his gentle presence lingered behind.

As the New Year unfolded, the babies grew and Corrie regained her strength. She delighted in returning to the routine of the family life the six of them had established. Her life still centered around the babies, but there was always an extra pair of arms ready to cuddle them while she finished kneading a batch of bread or baking a panful of cookies.

Her connection with her twin didn’t suffer either. Though no one else commented on it, she noticed Matty’s pallor in the mornings. Sensing what might be the trouble, Corrie did her best to make sure coffee was ready before Matty came downstairs so she wouldn’t have to smell it being prepared. If there were meats to fry or other strong-smelling foods to prepare, she did what she could to relieve Matty of the chore. She wondered when Matty would be ready to announce her happy news to the rest of the family.

In addition, there was always an undercurrent of awareness shimmering between her and Luke. Their gazes often locked over the supper table or across the room. She no longer wore her mourning brooch because it tended to get in the way while she was feeding the little ones. Somehow she didn’t miss its weight.

One evening in early February, Corrie stood at the sink washing supper dishes. The chatter of the family swirled around her, and she reveled in it. She just was happy tonight, and it felt good after so many months of mourning and uncertainty. Bess sat at the end of the table with Brianne in her arms. Luke sat beside her, holding Madeline.

“Aren’t you just the prettiest girls,” Bess cooed. “You look just like your daddy, but you’re still pretty, pretty, pretty. Your hair is curly like his, and you have his twinkly eyes.”

Embarrassment and shame sliced into Corrie like twin knives. She hadn’t noticed the resemblance, but now that Bess mentioned it, how could she have missed it? She hadn’t been looking for their similarity to Brian. She’d been so caught up in the pink haze of her attraction to Luke, she’d not even considered her daughters’ father, the one whose love had helped bring them into being. Hot tears filled her eyes as she rinsed the last few dishes and placed them on the counter to dry. Then, still blinking back the tears, she gathered Madeline and Brianne into her arms and carried them to her room. Tears dripped on their little heads as she nursed them and on their bellies as she changed their diapers. When she settled them into the cradle, she reached for her brooch on the bureau, and her weeping began in earnest.

She worked hard to keep her crying silent, both to avoid disturbing her daughters and to keep Matty from hearing her distress. There was no way she could discuss this with anyone. Yes, she cared deeply about Luke, but how could she do so if she’d truly cared about Brian? It hadn’t been even a year since his death.

She forced herself to remember the awful day when she had become a widow. Her heart still ached over the loss, but she no longer felt emotionally crippled by it. Should she be able to recover so easily? She opened the brooch to stroke the lock of Brian’s hair within. The hair could have belonged to anyone for all the comfort it brought her.

Sleep eluded her, even in the hours when her daughters slept. Every time she tried to slip into slumber, her thoughts chased one another in endless tangles, never creating a solution. Her love for Brian still caused her heart to ache. Yet her growing love for Luke demanded equal attention. What kind of woman could love two men?

The next morning, she didn’t even try to go downstairs. As she expected, Matty came to check on her, looking no better than Corrie felt. “Are you okay, dear one?”

“Just a rough night.” Corrie tried to manage a small smile. “You don’t look so great yourself. When are you going to announce your news?”

Matty enfolded Corrie in a delighted, though shaky, embrace. “I should have known I couldn’t hide it from you. Jim knows, but we’re waiting another few weeks before we say anything. We like having our own secret.”

Tears again pushed at Corrie’s eyes, remembering hers and Brian’s similar feelings not so long ago. “Don’t push yourself too hard, okay? Remember what you told me—if something makes you sick, don’t do it.”

“Yes, Mother,” Matty responded with mock resignation. “Would you like me to bring you some breakfast?”

“Only if it won’t make you lose yours,” Corrie answered, reaching for Madeline, who’d begun yelling for her own breakfast.

Just that easily a new routine established itself. Matty brought Corrie’s meals and carried out the laundry. Corrie and her daughters remained ensconced in the bedroom, the one place where Corrie wouldn’t have to face Luke or deal with her feelings. Without the distraction of his presence, her grief for Brian settled back into place, comforting in its familiarity and yet, if she were completely honest, feeling like a shoe that had its sole worn through.

Three days passed. Corrie’s grief spent itself. The babies grew restless, having become accustomed to more company than just their mother. “You need to get used to this,” Corrie told both herself and them. “The day will come soon when it will just be the three of us.”

The conclusion had come to her slowly but settled in with certainty. As soon as the girls were eating solid food, she planned to move to town and resume her bakery business. She and her sisters had planned to make the jail habitable. Why couldn’t she do it for herself and the babies? She knew it wouldn’t be easy to meet their needs and support all of them financially, but it was what she needed to do. If, by the twins’ first birthday, the attraction between her and Luke remained strong, then she would allow herself to put Brian’s memory to rest.