“It’s obvious you love those babies. You would have told me anything important.” He stabbed his fork into a piece of steak, stuffed it in his mouth and nodded at her.
“I don’t know if I would.”
“Yes, Abby. You would,” he said around his mouthful.
“How many times have you seen them?” she hissed.
“As often as I could get away from Kansas City. Maybe four or five times.”
“Have you ever changed a diaper?” She picked up her fork again and toyed with a chunk of chicken on her plate, cutting it into tiny morsels before lifting one to her lips. As she chewed, she scowled at Jack, waiting for the reply she knew was coming.
“No, but how hard can that be?” He kept eating, but now his eyes were sharp with anger.
“Have you ever calmed a crying baby?”
He shook his head and kept chewing.
“You honestly think you can take a five-month-old boy home and figure him out? He’s a human being, not a computer.”
Jack put his fork down and planted one fist on each side of his dinner plate. “Wyatt is five and a half months old,” he reminded her. “And if Brian could figure him out, so can I.”
“When? Are you going to quit your job?”
He raised one brow. “I can afford to hire a nanny.”
Abby nearly jumped out of her seat, her fury was so intense. “So, Wyatt will be raised by some stranger because you’re too mulish to admit I’m the best person for the job!”
Jack pushed his plate away and picked up his beer. He downed the rest of the glass without once pulling his eyes away from hers. Finally, he said, “The truth is, Brian left a letter with the lawyer for me to read on the event of his death.”
“A letter?”
“Yes.”
She swallowed. “I didn’t get one from Paige.”
“Sorry.”
“What did it say?”
He leaned over to pull his wallet out of his back pocket.
“Here, you can read it yourself,” he said.
Abby scooted her salad plate aside before taking the letter. She unfolded it carefully, knowing he must treasure this last communication from his brother, then started to read.
Dear Jack,
Hey, if you’re reading this, it means I croaked.
Funny to think about that, but it means Paige died, too, and that’s not funny at all. Paige and I have had our problems, but lately things have been good. We’re learning to compromise when we have a fight. One of the things we’ve worked out has been what to do if the babies need a home. Paige wants her sister to get them. Abby’s great, but she’s a single woman. A boy needs a man around. You know that. I want you to raise Wyatt if we die. We’re naming you as his guardian, and leaving you the land you financed. Please try it for a year, and then if you want to blow it off, you have my blessing. (Give Abby a chance and sell her the land cheap, you old shark.) But try it. You’re not doing anything better.
I love you, bro.
Brian
Abby refolded the paper with shaking hands. How could she compete with the plea of a dead man?
She couldn’t. She knew that. But in time she would find a way. She knew that, too.
Looking into Jack’s stricken face, she handed him the letter and shook her head. “Okay. You win this round,” she said. “But there’s something in there that’s confusing. They left you the ten acres of land?”
“Yes,” he said, shrugging as he slid the letter back inside his wallet.
“They left me the house.”
He stared at her for a moment, his eyes glittering with some internal emotion. She wondered if he was going to throw a fit or start blubbering.
He did neither.
His burst of laughter rang out across the restaurant, turning the heads of several nearby diners. “Those two rascals left me a piece of land with no house to live in,” he said in a voice rich with amusement. “They left you an old house with no farm to finance the upkeep. And they left each of us a twin.”
“Uh-huh,” Abby said, her brow pinched. Why was he laughing?
He shook his head, as if she should have gotten his point. “They were plotting something.”
Despite the circumstances, she had to grin. “Paige always did grill me about what I thought of you.”
Jack chuckled. “And Brian always said you were the perfect woman for me.”
Abby’s laugh was every bit as loud as his had been. “They were so naive,” she said. “We’ve already determined that I’m not enough woman for you, haven’t we?”
CHAPTER TWO
JACK TOOK MEASURE of Abby’s expression as he walked down the courthouse steps toward her, trying to determine whether she was despondent or furious. She was probably both, and he could hardly blame her. None of this felt right, but it was what Brian and Paige had wanted.
Abby had a parent flanking each side. At first glance, Mike Briggs seemed as easygoing as usual. He stood next to his daughter with a big yellow diaper bag looped over his arm. Today, however, his mouth formed a bleak line across his face.
Faye was the only one of the three adults who offered a smile. She stood to Abby’s left, holding the twin in white ruffles—that must be Rosie.
Abby had Wyatt clutched tightly against her chest, and looked quite comfortable for a woman who’d been caring for those babies only a couple of weeks. Her lips were pressed against the boy’s forehead, and she was swaying from side to side. The tip of the braid she always wore appeared at one side of her waist, then the other like a pendulum, as if keeping track of how many floggings he deserved for taking the boy from her.
Jack paused on the steps to blow out a puff of pure frustration, before charging on down to the group. When he reached them, Abby handed the child over without a word. Her lips were pinched so tightly that a scattering of dimples embellished her chin.
He smiled at her, appealing silently for understanding, but she didn’t seem to notice. Her stormy eyes never abandoned the baby.
Turning his own attention to the boy in his arms, he looked down into the face of his brother’s child—and his responsibility for about the next eighteen years. Wyatt’s eyes were a muddy blue today—somewhere between the gray-blue of a newborn and whatever shade he’d wind up with eventually. They were wide and trusting. Innocent.
A fit of panic nearly overwhelmed Jack, but he squelched it, and put on a mask of bravado for the benefit of Abby and her parents. “Hi, Wyatt,” he crooned. “I’m Daddy Jack. I’m going to take good care of you.”
The baby stared back. He had grown considerably in five and a half months, but he was still so very…puny. His balled fist lurched wildly through the air, and his face scrunched into an odd contortion.
Nervously, Jack studied the way Faye was holding Rosie with the baby’s back against her chest, wrapped in her arms, and gently bouncing. Rosie seemed content with the situation, so Jack copied their stance. The change in position meant he couldn’t see Wyatt’s face, but since the boy hadn’t started screaming, he figured it was working.
Abby and her parents stood watching, placing the burden of goodbyes on him. Since he couldn’t offer a handshake, he offered a nod instead. “Faye and Mike, it’s been good to see you again,” he said. “Next