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, that’s about to end, isn’t it?” she said. “One way or another.”
“Excuse me?” He didn’t like the sound of that phrase.
“I just received a phone call from Stuart Waldman,” she said. “That’s what I needed to talk to you about.”
“My brother-in-law called you?” The Dallas attorney was married to Mason’s older sister, Margaret.
After Rance and Amy’s funerals in Horseshoe Bend, Stuart had offered his legal services to deal with the couple’s estate. Neither of the Waldmans had visited Austin to see their nieces, however.
“Apparently someone notified him, as the attorney to your brother’s estate, that Lily and Daisy are being released,” she said. “He and your sister will be here tomorrow.”
“Why?” Mason hoped he didn’t sound as irritable as he felt. Eight years his senior, Marge still regarded him as her kid brother. Furthermore, since childhood she’d had a way of hogging the limelight, performing a small amount of work and expecting a large amount of credit.
“He said your sister intends to raise the babies herself.”
Mason’s gut tightened. He’d gone through so much with these little girls. What the heck did Marge think she was doing?
If she loved them even a tenth as much as he did, she’d have come to Austin long ago. She’d have camped out, as he had, unable to bear missing a single day with them.
“My sister has no right to these children,” he said.
“According to your brother-in-law, she believes she could provide them with the best home,” Elly said mildly.
“The best home is the one where they’re loved.” He couldn’t keep an edge from his voice.
“I won’t disagree with you,” the administrator said.
“Did Stuart happen to mention why they never brought this up until now?”
“According to him, your sister needed time to ‘clear the decks’ of other involvements,” she said. “Still that wouldn’t prevent her from picking up a telephone and calling you, would it?”
Mason knew quite well why his sister hadn’t contacted him directly—because she didn’t want to give him a chance to speak bluntly. Acknowledging painful truths had never been Margaret’s favorite activity.
“She wants to take charge and be the center of attention,” he said. “In a few months, she’ll get tired of playing nursemaid and turn them over to a series of nannies. That may sound uncharitable on my part, Miss Maitland, but I’ve known my sister for a long time.”
“You understand that, no matter where my sympathies lie, I can’t get involved.” She tapped a pen against her clipboard. “Mr. Waldman asked me to delay the girls’ release for another day, to give them more time to get here. However, there’s no medical reason to hold them, so I declined.”
“Much obliged,” Mason said.
“It was the least I could do.”
As the administrator departed, the full impact of this development hit him. He might lose the girls. If Margaret was determined to take Lily and Daisy, she would have the odds stacked in her favor.
A lawyer for a husband. An elegant home in Dallas. Three nearly grown kids of her own as proof that she knew
