The Twin Birthright. Catherine Mann

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placed outside. The halogen beam shone down on his hair, made all the darker by the dampness from a fresh sprinkle of snowflakes collecting and melting. She heard the low, confident rumble of his voice. The tones grounded her with reassurance far more than the blankets. Holding strong to keep him at a distance proved hard right now, with her emotions so close to the surface.

      “Thank you,” he said to the older of the two techs. “I appreciate your coming out on roads as messy as these.”

      “That’s what we’re here for.” The medic tugged his knit cap more firmly over his head, wind whipping flurries sideways.

      “And they’re all really okay.” Royce’s broad shoulders rose and fell with a sigh so heavy she couldn’t miss it.

      “Mom’s blood pressure is a little higher than we would like, but we’re monitoring her and we’ll be on the road shortly.” He nodded. “You handled everything very well, especially considering the circumstances. The babies both have a ten Apgar score.”

      “That’s good to know. When they were born, they both had blue hands, but they came out crying, actively kicking.”

      “That’s excellent. You did a great job in a tough situation. There’s really nothing more anyone could have done in those circumstances.”

      Royce scrubbed the back of his neck, a gesture she recognized as weariness. “Other than not go for an impromptu scenic ride with a pregnant woman.”

      “You can beat yourself up later, Dad.” The older man clapped Royce on the shoulder.

      Dad? Naomi’s throat closed and she bit her lip against a tremble.

      Royce shrugged. “I’m not...their dad.”

      The pain in his voice tore at her heart. For him, for herself and for her children. She and Royce had made such plans for the future. He was a good man who would have loved her children as much as if they were his own. If only she could have escaped the feeling he was filling a void left by the loss of his own child.

      By the loss of his fiancée, a woman he’d known so much longer than his and Naomi’s few, intense months together.

      Turning, he walked toward the ambulance, stepping up on the bumper and then inside, his eyes trained on Naomi, his broad shoulders nearly filling the opening.

      The ambulance shifted again with the arrival of the other tech, angling past him. “My bad, man. I assumed you two were married.”

      Royce shook his head. “Not married. Not a couple. Not the dad. Just a...friend.”

      “Then I’m sorry, sir.” The man smiled apologetically. “You’ll have to step out of the rig. You can follow us in the tow truck.”

      Royce’s face went tight for a moment before he shot her a forced smile. “Naomi, I’ll see you and the girls at the hospital. I promise.”

      He stepped back out and the void where he’d been seemed to expand. Naomi’s stomach sank as the doors closed, sealing Royce out. He dropped out of sight.

      She thought she’d gotten used to the idea of doing this on her own, but having him with her through the birth of the babies had felt so right, the connection between them fragile, but there.

      The door to the rig slammed, and they pulled onto the road, taking with them the last hint of how things might have been.

      * * *

      Royce couldn’t will his feet to move, eyes fixed on the glass that separated him from the nurse’s station where the twins were being settled. He watched the staff cradle the girls, tugging a tiny T-shirt and cap on each newborn before swaddling them in a blanket. Try as he might, he couldn’t avert his gaze now that he’d finally made it to the hospital.

      The trek here looped in his mind as he remembered the sinking feeling in his chest, being stuck in a damn tow truck with no rights to Naomi or the babies. He’d called to postpone his guest lecture series at the university. He’d also arranged for a car to pick him up in the morning, and sent an email to his administrative assistant at the oil company to start the paperwork for a replacement SUV. A new version of the one he’d had. He didn’t like change in his life. From a make and model of a vehicle to a brand of boots.

      At least he hadn’t been stuck finding a ride tonight. The driver had taken pity on him and brought him all the way to the hospital before leaving with the demolished SUV.

      Monitors beeped, briefly calling his attention away from the smells of disinfectant and stale coffee. Even late at night, the hospital hummed with activity here in the maternity ward. The low din of a family huddled together waiting to hear the news. A couple of grandparents at the window, tapping. A cart rattled by, pulled by a nurse. A mother walked slowly down the hall, pushing a wheeled hospital bassinet.

      A rush of cold air pricked the hairs on the back of his neck as he registered the sound of doors opening. Barely enough time to digest the herd of people flooding in. Naomi’s family filled the room, rushing toward him and the glass window pane. Concern became a common, identifiable feature on everyone’s brow.

      So. Many. Brows.

      Her sister, Delaney; two of her brothers, Broderick and Aiden. Broderick’s wife, Glenna, and a slew of other Steeles and Mikkelsons, whose faces all started to become a blur after a while, there were so many of them.

      So many people here to support Naomi and the girls. That was a good thing. He should be fine with leaving. She didn’t want him here. She’d pushed him away.

      But he wasn’t anywhere near okay with turning his back on them. He needed to see her settled in with the girls after the tumultuous delivery. He could provide a buffer between her and her overprotective family. He’d already sent out messages to excuse himself from work for a few days, his research taking a back burner to this.

      Delaney—a shier version of Naomi—tugged her dark ponytail tighter, her eyes welling with tears that glistened even brighter than her diamond stud earrings. “Ohmigod, Royce, what happened to my sister?”

      “The babies?” Glenna’s gaze was direct.

      Broderick stepped up behind his wife. “In a snowstorm?”

      The Steeles and Mikkelsons were out in full, overwhelming force.

      In days past, they would have been at each other’s throats. Now they were a unified wall of huge personalities.

      Royce shifted toward them, while keeping his body angled enough toward the window that he could still see the infants out of the corner of his eye. “We had just left the doctor’s appointment. She got a clean bill of health, so we took a drive to get a bite to eat. The storm came out of nowhere right as she went into labor.” He gestured toward the side-by-side warmers, with pediatricians and nurses gathered on the other side of the partition glass. “Those are your nieces.”

      Delaney stepped closer with a soft, “Oh, my.”

      Glenna pulled her cell phone from its monogrammed leather case, smiling, her CFO, no-nonsense demeanor fading. “We need photos. Lots. Mom and Jack are already texting me like crazy for updates.”

      The Steele patriarch and Mikkelson matriarch were on a belated honeymoon.

      Broderick,

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