Twins Under the Tree--A Clean Romance Read online

  He never stayed put...

  ...until she gave him a reason to

  Rebel cowboy Hadley Smith had never been one to stick around. Then he suddenly became a single father—to twins. Hadley doesn’t need Jenna Moran looking over his shoulder, but he grudgingly starts to fall for her compassion and strength. When faced with an impossible choice, can Hadley prove to Jenna he’s willing to put down roots?

  “Maybe I should let it go at that. This, too.”

  He leaned away, his eyes somber on hers. He tilted her chin up with one finger. “Because all I have to offer you is this.”

  With tears trailing down her cheeks, he lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her. His lips felt firm yet soft, and she wanted to tell him he was wrong. He could care about someone other than his twins and his brother. He could care about her. She sensed it in his kiss.

  But was he telling her goodbye? Was that the best thing for Jenna? She’d always known this time would come, that she shouldn’t trust him.

  For another brief moment it didn’t seem to matter. She cared about him, and even with the words between them that should have made her leave now, as he would leave Clara’s ranch, she stayed in Hadley’s arms...

  Dear Reader,

  I’m so excited about this latest book in my Kansas Cowboys miniseries! This is Hadley Smith’s story (he was the foreman in The Rancher’s Second Chance), and this bad boy seriously needed reforming. That’s now Jenna Moran’s job, which she’s not quite prepared to take on—along with Hadley’s twins.

  Twins have always fascinated me. When I was a teenager, my best friend and I used to babysit her cousin’s twins. Although as toddlers they were a bit older than my fictional babies, they were equally adorable. Add their five-year-old sister, who was part of our babysitting assignment, too, and we really had our hands full. But the fun more than made up for the trouble!

  It’s the same way for Hadley in this book—even when he never expected to become a father and doesn’t think he’d be very good at it. We all learn the hard way. At first, he doesn’t welcome Jenna’s involvement, and she’s definitely not eager to risk her own heart again. But I hope you enjoy watching these two struggle as they develop a love, and a family, that neither of them dared to dream of.

  As always, happy reading!

  Leigh

  Twins Under the Tree

  Leigh Riker

  Leigh Riker, like so many dedicated readers, grew up with her nose in a book, and weekly trips to the local library for a new stack of stories were a favorite thing to do. This award-winning USA TODAY bestselling author still can’t imagine a better way to spend her time than to curl up with a good romance novel—unless it is to write one! She is a member of the Authors Guild, Novelists, Inc. and Romance Writers of America. When not at the computer, she’s out on the patio tending flowers, watching hummingbirds, spending time with family and friends, or, perhaps, traveling (for research purposes, of course). She loves to hear from readers. You can find Leigh on her website, leighriker.com, on Facebook at leighrikerauthor and on Twitter, @lbrwriter.

  Books by Leigh Riker

  Harlequin Heartwarming

  Kansas Cowboys

  The Reluctant Rancher

  Last Chance Cowboy

  Cowboy on Call

  Her Cowboy Sheriff

  The Rancher’s Second Chance

  A Heartwarming Thanksgiving

  “Her Thanksgiving Soldier”

  Lost and Found Family

  Man of the Family

  If I Loved You

  Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.

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  For my family

  Because that’s what matters most

  Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  EXCERPT FROM RESCUED BY THE PERFECT COWBOY BY MELINDA CURTIS

  CHAPTER ONE

  November

  Near Barren, Kansas

  “WOULD YOU LIKE to hold your babies?”

  The nurse’s soft voice reached Hadley as if it had come down a long tunnel, the words echoing inside him. He stared through the big window of the nursery in Farrier General Hospital, where the two little infants wrapped in pink and blue blankets, looking for all the world to him like a pair of burritos, wriggled in their plastic isolette. One tiny hand waved in the air as if to say hello. Another set of china-blue eyes gazed straight at him. They were less than an hour old—and they had no mother.

  Hadley couldn’t seem to grasp the notion. Only this morning Amy had pressed his hand to her swollen abdomen. “I think it’s today,” she’d said with an angelic smile, not afraid at all of the painful process to come. She should have been.

  Before she’d even turned thirty, Amy was no more. “Complications during delivery,” the doctor had tried to explain, but nothing registered with Hadley. The words banged around in his skull like so much mumbo jumbo, and even Sawyer McCord’s comforting hand on his shoulder couldn’t make it real.

  Hadley had stumbled from the waiting room down the brightly lit hallway in a daze, and he was still in it. Underneath the fog that had taken over his brain, though, something else kept demanding his attention, tapping at his memory and telling him to pay notice. Hadley just couldn’t remember what that was.

  The nurse repeated her question, then said, “We have a small lounge you can use.” She gently took his arm and led him a short distance away to the open door of a room. “I’ll bring them to you.”

  “No,” he began, heart in his throat. Even after the long months of waiting, he wasn’t ready; he’d told Amy often enough that he would never be ready, which had only led to yet another of their usual impasses.

  But the nurse had already disappeared through the door across the way where Hadley was able to pick out the low murmur of voices among the other nurses. He saw one of them swipe at her eyes.

  This was not the happy occasion it should have been—most of all, for Amy—but Hadley didn’t quite know how to grieve. They’d separated earlier in the year, but during one last night together they’d created two new lives. The news that she was pregnant had cut short their divorce proceedings.

  He’d promised to stay with her until the babies were born, then they’d decide about the future.

  The situation now seemed bizarre, and everything in Hadley’s life had been temporary. His whole approach to things was what he called the finger-in-the-dike method, plugging up one hole as it sprang a leak, then the next. He didn’t stay long anywhere he happened to land. He’d never had a home, a real family. What was he going to do now with the twins?

  In the lounge, he sank onto the faux-leather couch, trembling inside. Trying to steady himself, Hadley looked down at his blue ch ambray shirt, faded jeans and scuffed boots. Even in their better moments, he was never the guy Amy had hoped he could become.

  When the nurse stepped into the room again, he startled. “Baby Girl,” she announced, carrying two bundles, one on each arm, “and Baby Boy. Have you chosen names for them, Mr. Smith?”

  “No,” he said, pulse stuttering in alarm. He’d left those choices, and most others, to Amy. He should have paid more attention.

  He considered making another protest—what did he know about babies?—but the nurse transferred one twin, then the other, into his hastily outstretched arms. He could hardly have refused to take them; they would have ended up on the floor. Since the cover and the first mini cap were blue, he must be holding the boy. Next, in pink...the girl. “God, they’re small,” he muttered.

  “Yes, but not preemies. They weighed in almost the same, remember, just over five pounds each. And healthy. Their Apgar scores were off the chart.” She smiled, looking misty-eyed. “Go ahead, you can touch them. They won’t break.”

  Hadley wasn’t sure of that. He tried to repress the image, but he couldn’t help but note that the babies were no bigger than two sacks of potatoes, together maybe a quarter the weight of a good saddle.

  He’d seen birth before...at least on the ranch. Give him a laboring cow to manage, let a newborn calf slide into his hands, and he knew exactly what to do. Its mama soon took over, and Hadley’s job was done. He’d once reminded Amy’s doctor of that, and Amy had chided him for comparing her to cattle. But he had no idea what to do with these two little babies.

  He decided not to share this sum total of his experience with the nurse, who kept giving him weird looks anyway.

  Saying, “I’ll leave you with them,” she vanished into the hall.

  A fresh spurt of panic shot through him. What was he supposed to do? Even with his friends’ kids, he’d only watched, never taking part in the childcare.

  “Wait,” he called after the nurse, but she didn’t hear him. She’d promised to come back soon, but how long would that be? Minutes? An hour? He sat rigid on the sofa, his head throbbing. Already his right arm ached from the slight, warm weight resting against it, and something niggled at the edges of his mind again, then flitted off. In his numbed state, what was he missing? Then the boy snuffled, and Hadley’s pulse lurched. Could he breathe all bound up like that?

  With one finger Hadley nudged the blanket aside and saw a little face staring up at him, blue eyes wide and intent, the most focused look he’d ever seen. “Hey, pal,” Hadley murmured. He blinked but his focus had somehow quit for the second time that day; the first had been when he learned Amy hadn’t survived. The tiny girl’s cover slipped, and there she was, too.

  Like her brother, the baby had Amy’s reddish-gold hair, and Hadley swore he could see Amy’s face. Her nose, her lips, her chin. Well, maybe his ears, but that was all he could see of himself in the little girl. Ah, Amy. She would never experience this awesome sight. He noisily cleared his throat. “Look at you, sweetie pie.”

  She reached out her hand again, as she’d done earlier through the nursery window. A random motion or was she seeking him? When Hadley dared to touch her, she wound her impossibly small fingers around his and held on much tighter than he would expect from such a little mite, and his heart clenched. Her skin felt creamy and smooth. She smelled like...innocence. Her nails were perfect, translucent. An all-around miracle, as birth always was.

  When Sawyer McCord suddenly appeared in the doorway in his white coat, Hadley couldn’t speak.

  Sawyer’s dark blue gaze softened. “Nothing like it, is there?”

  “Nothing,” Hadley managed to say. He didn’t suppose they meant the same thing.

  Odd as it seemed, though, theirs was a shared experience. Sawyer and his wife, Olivia, had become the parents of a son only last spring. Hadley looked from one twin to the other, uncertain which seemed more vulnerable, sweeter.

  Gazing at him, Sawyer had folded his arms as if he expected Hadley to try to shove the newborn twins at him, then run, the big tough cowboy who only wanted the open range and a horse of his own. He’d done bad stuff in his life, inherited bad genes, but... He gazed down at the squirming babies in his arms, and his whole being turned to mush. He hadn’t been a good husband, at least not the one Amy had wished for. He sure hadn’t wanted to have kids who might turn out like him. The one family member who’d relied on him years ago, Hadley had let down—to put it mildly.

  If he wanted to live by the cowboy’s code of honor, which Hadley did, he needed to accept the consequences of his own actions now. Never mind his rocky, on-again, mostly off-again relationship with Amy. That was, sadly, over.

  In a few short moments, he’d morphed from a possibly divorced man into a widower, then a father. And finally he knew what to do. This would be different from his marriage. These were Amy’s babies, always would be, but they were also his. What other choice was there? “Guess I’m a daddy now,” he told Sawyer.

  Because no way would he let anyone else have them. Once before, he’d given up someone he should have cared for, and it wouldn’t happen again. Looked like he wasn’t going anywhere. For now.

  That was when he glanced up and saw the woman standing frozen in the doorway. And at last Hadley remembered the other problem that had been circling, half-formed yet unreachable, through his head. Jenna Moran would have been his easy way out.

  Instead, he had a fight on his hands.

  * * *

  “I GOT HERE as soon as I could,” Jenna said. “I can’t believe this has happened. How terrible.”

  She’d been crying ever since her friend Olivia, who’d heard the news from her husband, Sawyer, called. During the drive from her apartment building to the hospital, Jenna had sobbed at the wheel. Poor Amy. The friendship they’d nurtured as neighbors over the past months of her pregnancy had just ended abruptly, and Jenna would never see Amy again. Which seemed impossible.

  Sawyer touched her shoulder. “It’s a sad day, Jenna. I’ll leave you two to talk.” He said a few low words to Hadley Smith, who forced a brief smile. Then Sawyer swept from the room in a blur of dark hair and broad shoulders that, unlike Hadley, she imagined would willingly carry the weight of the world. She was surprised Hadley was still here.

  The consensus in town before Amy’s loss was that Hadley would flee as soon as the twins arrived. Now he was an unlikely single dad. But from what Jenna knew, largely from Amy, she couldn’t imagine this rough cowboy sticking around long enough to change diapers.

  The cold look in Hadley’s eyes, a penetrating steel blue, didn’t change her mind about him, not that she was normally given to judging other people. But even physically—with his powerful, athletic build—Hadley seemed too tall, too big and, most of all, too remote to be a daddy. Those traits reminded Jenna of her own father, who had either neglected her or unleashed his anger on her. According to Amy, Hadley had a temper, too. She refused to meet his stare.

  She knew what her friends in their Girls’ Night Out group called him. The Bad Boy of Barren. There were others in town who were attracted to his rugged good looks and that brown, nearly black hair, but Jenna couldn’t see past the picture Amy had painted of Hadley.

  “Well,” he said, “I know why you’re here. And you’re wasting your time.” His mouth had tightened. “My kids don’t need a stand-in mother.”

  “You mean a standby guardian,” Jenna corrected him. She’d never heard the term until a few months ago. “Amy asked me if I would be the twins’ guardian, and I said yes.” Because Jenna, who was unfailingly loyal, supported her friends. “But I never imagined anything terrible would actually happen to her.”

  “I didn’t expect Amy to die, either.”

  Jenna blinked. “I wish with all my heart she hadn’t. But you must have known about the court hearing to appoint me guardian.” The judge would have made it official for J enna to take over custodial duties for the twins in case something happened to Amy, and Hadley also left them and disappeared.

  Heaven knew, Amy had wanted Hadley to love her as she loved him, a man who’d never wanted a family and claimed he couldn’t love anyone. She’d never stopped trying to change him, but she’d also never trusted that he wouldn’t abandon her, or in this case, their babies.

  “That hearing,” Jenna said, “was scheduled for next week.”

  “It won’t take place now. Which means you’re free and clear.” He gazed at the babies he held. “Our marriage was always shaky. By the time these little ones were born, I might have been somewhere else.” He paused. “That’s all changed now, though. To set your mind at ease, I mean to stay.”

  This wasn’t at all what Jenna had expected. She wouldn’t have to go through with the guardianship, which would have been difficult for her at best, and instead she could continue putting herself together again after her divorce. Nothing would ever again derail her the way her broken marriage had. No one, she told herself, including Hadley Smith.

  “Amy ever mention what names she picked out?” he suddenly asked.

  A couple of weeks ago, one night while Hadley was out, Amy had talked about her choices, and Jenna did recall several of them. “I remember Luke,” she said, “and Grace. Didn’t you know?”

  “I’m not a very good listener,” he admitted.

  Jenna took a few more steps into the room. “I’m sure she left her baby name book on the shelf in her living room. There should be a list tucked inside with the names she liked most starred.”

  “Grace,” he said, not looking at Jenna. “Luke. If you say that’s what she wanted, I don’t see why not. Lucas Smith is a good name for a guy, don’t you think?”

  “Yes,” she murmured, bending down and noting the babies’ fine features. They didn’t appear crumpled and wizened like many newborns’ faces, probably because they’d been cesarean deliveries. “And Grace sounds soft but strong,” she added.