the sun was even above the horizon. Memorial Garden Cemetery had been simple enough to locate. The freshly covered grave and flower arrangements were visible from the street. His feet felt leaden as he forced himself out of the car and onto the lawn. The gentle autumn breeze carried the delicate scent of roses and carnations, almost teasing him with the promise of something happy.
A hand-printed sign had been placed at the head of the grave. The L and E in her name stood out long before he got close enough to read the rest. He’d been to more than his share of funerals, but he’d never seen this many flowers. The obituary had even requested donations be made to an educational fund for the girls in lieu of flowers. The phrasing had left a bad taste in his mouth. His children shouldn’t need donations when he could provide for them. And he would have if he had known they existed. He snorted quietly. Here he was getting annoyed about other people providing for two kids he didn’t even know were his. The sound of a truck backfiring startled him. A battered Ford pickup trundled into the cemetery on what appeared to be its last legs. Appropriate place for it to die. He caught a glimpse of the driver. She looked remarkably like the woman he’d pulled up on the internet last night. Hannah Tanner...one of the country’s top barrel racers. Hers was the only other name mentioned in the obituary. His only lead to the truth.
He casually walked away from the grave, slipping his sunglasses on to hide his obvious perusal. After exiting the driver-side door, she lifted two tiny tots out of the passenger side. Since when was it okay for kids to ride in the front seat of a truck? Holding each of their hands in hers, they made their way slowly toward the mountain of flowers. Hannah’s long copper-red hair shone in the morning sun. And that was when it hit him.
Hannah was the woman who had been with Lauren when they’d met. In the pictures he’d seen online, her hair had been pulled away from her face and she’d worn a cowboy hat. This morning she wore an unadorned black button-down dress and a cropped denim jacket along with a pair of worn cowboy boots.
He climbed back into his car as he watched them, almost feeling guilty for intruding on their private moment. A part of him wanted to walk up and say hello. But if she recognized him, how would she explain who he was to the kids? He had been a one-night stand, nothing more. He wasn’t exactly a friend, either. If only the twins would turn around and look his way. A photo in a newspaper wasn’t the same as seeing them in person. He needed to be sure before he approached them.
After watching them for a few minutes, he detected the twins’ subtle differences. One was slightly taller than the other. Their barely shoulder-length, rich mahogany-brown hair reminded him of Lauren’s. When the shorter of the two faced his direction, he noticed hers was a shade or two lighter. Her gaze met his and he knew. His heart began to race. The urge to run to her and scoop her into his arms caught him off guard. She had his eyes—electric blue. They were piercingly visible even from a distance and he’d bet any amount of money in the world they were rimmed in black. He should go to her—to them—but his body remained frozen. Perspiration trickled down his left temple.
Before he could muster the will to approach them, they climbed into the old pickup and left. Noah’s palms began to sweat against the steering wheel, which he’d been using for support. Panic set in. What if he never saw them again? Fear and anxiety gripped his heart. He may not be ready to be a father, but he couldn’t walk away. Not without making absolutely sure.
He started his rental car, preparing to follow them. As they drove onto Main Street, he almost lost them at a traffic light. Once it changed, he managed to catch up while maintaining a reasonable distance until they turned onto a dusty ranch road. Quickly jotting down where he was and how he got there, he reluctantly headed into town. He could have followed them home, but that seemed creepy. He didn’t want to scare them or cause Hannah to feel unsafe. Approaching them required some thought and definitely more finesse than he had at the moment.
If he planned to stay in Texas for more than one night, he needed to buy some clothes and toiletries. His original trip to Texas hadn’t involved staying longer than a day. Maybe he’d be able to learn more about Hannah and her connection to the kids before he made his next move. He’d start with calling the hospital about a paternity test. If he was right, he had some enormous decisions to make. That both terrified and excited him. None of his relationships had reached the kid-talk stage. He’d assumed he would have kids someday, but he had never given much thought as to when.
Noah took a deep breath. Most men had nine months to plan for this; he hadn’t even had twenty-four hours. It didn’t matter. He’d love them more than life itself. Noah smiled. He already did.
* * *
THE RAP AGAINST the screen door caught Hannah by surprise. Everyone she knew didn’t bother with formalities and always let themselves in.
“It’s open,” Hannah called from beside the living room hearth. She wanted to finish replacing the loose tiles before her mother dropped off the kids. The person knocked again.
What in the world? Hannah huffed.
She scraped off her trowel and loosely covered the tub of adhesive grout. Her parents had taken the twins over to their house to play, giving her a chance to make some repairs without them underfoot. Just when she completed one task, she’d notice another potential hazard. She’d even considered sending them to her parents’ house to stay for a week or two, but she didn’t want to confuse them even further. “I said it was open.”
Hannah rounded the corner to the front door, surprised to see a stranger in a pantsuit peering at her through the screen.
“Miss Hannah Tanner?” the woman asked.
Hannah hesitated. The woman looked official...too official. “May I help you?”
“Are you Hannah Tanner?” the woman asked a bit more sternly.
Hannah stiffened her spine and gripped the doorframe. “I am, and who might you be?”
“I’m Constance Malone from Luna County Social Services.” The woman’s face showed zero expression. “I’m sorry for the loss of your friend Lauren Elgrove. Normally I would have called first, but I was unable to find a number for you. I’m here to follow up on the placement of Charlotte and Cheyenne Elgrove. May I come in?”
“I don’t have a house phone, just a cell.” Hannah opened the screen door, allowing her to enter. “I’m sorry, but I wasn’t expecting you. I gave all my information to Social Services in Boston. I didn’t realize there was anything more for me to do.”
Constance glanced around the foyer toward the living room, and then in the opposite direction at the dining area, which had become a construction catchall over the past few days.
“Please pardon the mess.” Hannah wrung her hands. “We’re in the middle of making some improvements on the house.”
“We?” Constance removed a pen and notebook from her oversized tote and began writing.
“My family and I.” Hannah didn’t appreciate being on the defensive in her own home. “I am trying to baby-proof the house. The girls’ arrival was quite unexpected.”
“Where are the children? I would like to meet them.”
“They’re visiting with my parents for a few hours while I work on the house.” Hannah pulled her phone from her pocket. “I can call and have my mom bring them back.”
“I can meet them another time.” Constance stepped farther into the living room. “I understand they have lived with you before. Do you mind if I have a look
