But babies? What if something went wrong? He could never forgive himself.
It also meant that, after tomorrow, he would never see Gina Kennedy again. Of course, he knew she was too delicate for ranch life. And that he wasn’t husband material.
Yet he’d grown to depend on the quiet strength revealed in her blue eyes. Each day, he felt he knew her a little better, until it seemed that she had been a part of his life forever.
It made no sense. Her upbringing, as she’d described it one day while they were chatting, was so different from his that she might as well have come from another planet. He was a down-home Texas man, through and through. She had an air of sophistication that had developed as her engineer father moved the family to Kuwait, Alaska and Japan before settling in Austin.
Mason ought to be glad he was free to take the girls home. Instead, he kept longing to spend more time with Gina, to touch her soft hair, to grip that tiny waist and lift her onto his lap, to kiss her until time stood still.
She replaced Lily in her bassinet. “That’s wonderful news.”
“Is it?” he asked.
“What do you mean?” Some emotion he couldn’t identify fleeted across her face and vanished almost immediately. “If you’re worried, you could arrange for a private nurse. There must be someone in the town near your ranch. What’s it called—Horseshoe Bend?”
“I wouldn’t need to go that far for help. The girls will have a ready-made family on the ranch,” Mason said, to reassure himself as much as her. “Some of my cousins live there.”
She gave him a fleeting smile. “Does your housekeeper have children?”
“Actually, no,” he admitted. “She never married. But she raised one of her nephews, and she takes care of her mother. Nana lives with her in the village.”
“In Horseshoe Bend?”
Mason shook his head. “The village is a cluster of houses on my property, just down the way from the big house. My cousin Ed—he’s the foreman—and his family have their own house. So do a couple of ranch hands, and Bonita and her mother.”
“Aren’t there other children?” she asked. “For the girls to play with when they get older?”
He hadn’t thought beyond their infancy. Certainly playmates hadn’t entered his mind. “Not at the moment,” he admitted. “I can look for a family man though. I’ll need to hire someone to take my brother’s place.”
A wave of pain hit him, one that hurt no less for having become familiar during the past two months. No one could replace his brother, not in any sense of the word.
Gina dragged him back from his dark thoughts. “Get plenty of sleep tonight.” She took out a clean crib sheet, frowned at what appeared to be a freshly changed bassinet, and put the sheet back in the cabinet. “You’ll need it.”
She was, he realized, avoiding eye contact. He wished he knew what was upsetting her.
“I can manage without sleep if I have to,” he said. “I’ve done it before.”
“Not with two premature infants to take care of, you haven’t!”
Mason caught her shoulders. It was the only way to hold her still so he could address her. “Don’t tell me that you doubt me, Gina. Not you of all people.”
Trapped, she raised her face toward his. He’d never seen the blue of her eyes so brilliant and glittery. It was, he realized, the effect of tears.
“You’re going to miss them, aren’t you?” he asked gruffly.
She swallowed hard and nodded.
“You could…come and visit.” Even as he said it, he knew it wasn’t feasible. “Besides, a beautiful woman like you will have babies of your own. I’m surprised you don’t already.”
“Haven’t met the right man yet, I guess.” She ducked away.
At least he understood what was bothering her. It was Lily and Daisy. She’d grown to love them, just as he had.
Did she react this way when all of her patients left? He wished he could read her moods better.
“Mr. Blackstone?” One of the other nurses signaled to him. “Eleanor Maitland wants to talk to you.”
“Much obliged.” Through the glass window of the nursery, he saw the hospital administrator waving from the corridor.
A daughter of Maitland Maternity founder Megan Maitland, Miss Elly—as he’d heard her teasingly called in a reference to the TV series Dallas—was only twenty-five, the same age as the hospital. She wore glasses and tailored suits that made her look a bit older than her age, but not by much.
“Maybe she has some words of advice about the girls,” Gina said. “After all, she’s a twin herself.”
“I guess I’ll find out.” Regretfully, he turned away. He wished Gina could come into the hall with him. Heck, he wished she could come all the way to the ranch with him.
There was no point in deluding himself. Mason couldn’t picture the doll-like blonde living on the Blackstone Bar Ranch. And why would a pretty girl like her want to tear herself away from Austin’s music clubs and, no doubt, her many admirers?
On the way out of the nursery, he shrugged off his gown and dropped it in the laundry container, then collected his hat. Elly Maitland met him at the door.
“Congratulations,” she said. “Dr. Rogers tells me the girls are going home.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Mason gripped the hat in both hands. Give him a stray heifer to rope any day over the need to carry on polite chitchat.
“You know, there’s a good chance the press will be here tomorrow when they’re released,” she said. “There’s been a lot of interest in the twins.”
The deaths of both parents, orphaning the little girls, had stirred the public’s curiosity. Also, there’d been interest in the fact that two sets of twins had been delivered at the clinic on the same day.
Despite his absorption with his family’s double tragedy and his nieces’ medical progress, Mason had noticed the Winston boys, Henry and Hayden, and how their mother hovered over them. He hadn’t seen the father, though, and hoped matters had improved between the couple since the boys had gone home.
Elly seemed to be waiting for a response, so he said, “I’m aware of the media interest, ma’am.”
“If you like, we can arrange for you to leave by a rear entrance,” she said.
He shrugged. “I figure I can weather a few gabby reporters.”
“That’s fine, then.” She cleared her throat. “There is one other thing, Mr. Blackstone.”
“If it’s about the bill—”
“No, no,” she said. “The paperwork’s gone through fine.”
He was glad to hear it. Every spare minute of the past two months had been spent on one form of paperwork or another.
Through the glass, he could see some other parents arriving in the nursery, asking questions of Gina. She answered them in the same kind, steady manner she used with Mason himself.
After tomorrow, he and the girls would be gone. But for Gina, everything would continue, undisturbed. For some reason, that prospect irked him.
“Mr. Blackstone?” Elly said. “Are you all right?”
“What?”
“You seem distracted.”
“I’m a mite tired.” That was the truth. “It’s a long drive between here and my ranch.”
“Well,