Twins for Christmas Page 11

  “We’ll figure this out, Hannah.” His voice, thick and steady, tempted her to explore the possibility of a future together.

  “I hope so.” Hannah feared she’d say more than she should if they didn’t end the conversation. “I’ve kept you on here long enough. And I’m getting tired. I wish I could sleep in like the girls.”

  “You deserve to have someone take care of you,” he said with gentle emphasis.

  “I don’t need anyone to take care of me, Noah.”

  “I’m not saying need, I’m saying deserve. There’s a difference. Maybe when I’m there, you’ll let me do that for you.”

  She wished she could alter time. Since the night of Lauren’s accident, she wanted to turn it back. Now she foolishly dreamed of wasting it, so it would fly by. She reminded herself to enjoy the moment. The kids were asleep upstairs and Noah was in front of her, even if only on a screen. For a brief moment, they were together. And that meant the world to Hannah.

  * * *

  NOAH WANDERED AROUND his house after he hung up with Hannah. He used to love the modern structure. He’d spent years designing it, carefully planning the cement floors and counters in every room. The built-in furniture and overall utilitarian vibe starkly contrasted the glass exterior walls overlooking the Willamette River. The property was private and secluded. And it was lonely and cold.

  He’d almost kicked off his shoes when he arrived home from the airport. It seemed the most natural thing to do in Hannah’s house. The wood floors and carpet were warm and inviting. He had no desire to walk barefoot on his cement floors. He’d been home for almost two hours and he felt chilly and damp. The house had plenty of heat. It just didn’t have any heart. Hannah’s had been all heart even when it had been a construction nightmare.

  He looked around his living room. He couldn’t picture the twins playing on the floor. The hard floor. Even if he had an area rug, it would still be hard and cold. And heaven forbid one of the girls fell on this floor or whacked her head. It pained him to admit it, but his house was not child friendly. A social worker would never find anything structurally wrong with it, but he couldn’t picture them feeling overly positive about it, either. The property itself was another story. He didn’t even have a yard for the girls to play in. He had trees, and a steep drop-off down to the river.

  Noah sat on a stainless-steel stool at the kitchen counter. Nothing felt comfortable anymore. Before he left for Texas, he’d loved everything about his house. He’d loved coming home to it. It had been his sanctuary. Now his furniture seemed foreign. The paternity lab had exuded more warmth than this place.

  He’d begun with a very singular plan. Bring his girls home. Between Hannah and the legal system, his plan had detoured through an organic horse-filled ranch and a henhouse. So he’d considered another plan, one where he attempted to convince Hannah to move to Aurora. His sardonic laugh echoed off the walls. She’d hate the house. I hate the house. He hated it because his daughters would never belong in it. They would never forgive him for taking them away from their comfortable surroundings.

  The thought of a place in the suburbs made his skin crawl. A few weeks ago, he’d probably have said the same thing about living on a ranch. But what if he could find a ranch where Hannah could have her horses and her farm? How could she say no?

  Noah grabbed a notepad from the drawer. He had to speak with his attorney and find a real-estate agent. He jotted down everything he needed to do before he could bring his daughters home. His list seemed more daunting than Hannah’s had been. Her house had been a lot of work, but at least she could rest easy and enjoy having the children live with her for the foreseeable future. There had been an effortlessness around Hannah and his daughters despite the superficial frustrations. Changing his entire lifestyle to accommodate them almost seemed unfeasible. He wanted to go home but wasn’t quite sure where that was anymore.

  * * *

  NOAH WOKE GRUMPY the following morning. When he was in Ramblewood, he looked forward to getting up and seeing the girls. This was nuts. He loved his job. Hovering a twelve-ton helicopter the size of a bus just above the treetops was exhilarating and challenging. He had to plan out every movement, especially when his loads outweighed the helicopter itself. But as thrilling as it was, it didn’t compare to being a father to two twenty-one-month-old toddlers.

  Noah climbed behind the wheel of his red Dodge Ram. He didn’t have the heart to tell Hannah he had a much newer version of her truck. He grabbed a doughnut and coffee in town, already missing Fern’s scrambled eggs and bacon. He even missed flying fruit and cereal.

  “Hey, man, it’s good to have you back.” Frank slapped him on the shoulder. “When are you going to bring the little ones home?”

  “It might be a long while. I need to talk to you about my schedule. I have to be able to spend time with my kids, especially at Christmas.”

  An hour later, Noah and Frank had hashed out a tentative three-and-a-half-day workweek schedule. Noah had off Thursday afternoons through Sunday. It looked great on paper until he factored in the five-and-a-half-hour flight plus the travel times to and from the airports. Never mind that the weather in the Pacific Northwest had the potential to decimate the plan with one storm. Flying one of the largest heli-logging aircrafts narrowed the pilot field down even further. He was only in his Chinook making lifts and drops for an hour and a half a day. The rest of his time he spent flying smaller helicopters to run errands and transport ground workers in and out of the woods. It was easy finding someone to fly those, but his copilot was still in training and didn’t have enough hours to operate the Chinook just yet, which put an enormous strain on his boss. Noah felt good climbing into the cockpit. He soared over the tree line until he spotted his ground crew. He checked his long line and lowered the hook. Once they hooked him into the choker they’d wrapped around the tree, he waited for the crew to clear the log and then was up on his way to the drop zone less than thirty seconds later. He flew over the zone, and with a click of his thumb, the hook opened and released the log. Within minutes of picking up the first load, he was back for another. This was his element. Up in the sky he was in total control. His job may be one of the most dangerous in the world, but it didn’t compare to the danger his heart was in when it came to Hannah and his daughters.

  * * *

  IF HANNAH EVER thought she had been nervous before, she’d been seriously mistaken. She’d been awake since two in the morning, checking and rechecking the house to ensure it was ready for Constance’s inspection today. She hadn’t given a specific time, but Hannah prayed it was soon. Between the copious amounts of caffeine she had consumed and the twins’ dislike for the outfits she’d chosen, her nerves were just about shot.

  Her family had arrived before sunrise, providing both moral support and a united front. She still hadn’t decided if having her family there was a blessing or a curse. She feared Constance wouldn’t think she could do it on her own if she had to have a team of people rallying behind her. Those thoughts were short-lived, dying as soon as Constance drove up. Hannah was thankful she had her family there. She’d never needed them more.

  After a two-hour inspection, Constance joined Hannah, the twins and her family on the front porch. “Miss Tanner, I’m almost speechless,” the social worker began. “You completed everything on my list and then some. You have an extraordinary support system in place here and I couldn’t be happier to see that. Congratulations on a job well-done.”

  Hannah had managed to keep it together until Constance left. She thanked her family and then excused herself to the stables. She saddled Restless, mounted and rode. The back of her property faced state land, giving her the freedom to travel the numerous trails carved out by other riders through the years.

  She didn’t want anyone to see her cry. Passing inspection had been bittersweet. All it did was guarantee she would have Charlotte and Cheyenne unt
il Noah decided to take them away. She wanted to put all her trust in him and believe he wanted them to be together. She wasn’t accustomed to being at anyone’s mercy, and while he may argue that fact, she had no other way to explain how she felt.

  Hannah’s phone rang in her pocket. She reined Restless to a stop and looked at the screen.

  Noah.

  “Hello,” she answered.

  “Hey, sweetness.” His voice instantly made her belly somersault. “I wanted to see how you were holding up.”

  “Great, actually.” Hannah should have called him as soon as the inspection was over. They were his daughters and he deserved to know the status of their living arrangements. “Constance left a little while ago. Everything passed.”

  “I knew it would.” Noah’s voice remained even. “Now you can relax.”

  Hannah’s sudden burst of laughter caused Restless’s ears to prick and his body to shift suddenly. “Easy, boy.” She patted the side of his neck. “You’re okay.”

  “I hope you’re with a horse or a very young boy.”

  “Jealous?” Hannah sucked in her bottom lip, awaiting his response.

  “A little. And curious, now that you ask. Should I be worried?”

  “Should I?” Hannah’s breath stilled.

  “Have faith we’ll figure this out. Together. I want what’s best for my girls and that seems to be you. We’ll talk more tonight, okay? I need to get back to work.”

  “Be careful up there.” She pocketed her phone and steered Restless back the way they’d come. “Everything’s going to be okay.” She nudged the horse into a trot, finally allowing herself the freedom to celebrate today’s accomplishment. For the first time since Lauren’s death, she had hope.

  * * *

  BY MIDAFTERNOON, NOAH called it. The winds had picked up and conditions had become too treacherous to fly. They’d have to try again tomorrow. After retrieving the last of his crew from the forest floor, he headed home for the night, forgoing their usual pub routine. A freezing rain had begun to fall. As he reached for the four-wheel-drive control switch, the back tires lost traction on the frozen highway. He spun the wheel in the opposite direction of the skid to regain control. He swore under his breath as he merged into a makeshift lane behind a line of cars and attempted to steady his erratic pulse. Ice began accumulating on the windshield faster than the wipers could sweep it away. The front defroster offered little help in keeping the windows clear. He was seven miles away from home. Seven miles away from a video chat with Charlotte, Cheyenne and Hannah. He couldn’t afford an accident...not now that he had family to look after.

  The SUV in front of him fishtailed wildly. He tapped the brakes and felt a hard thud from behind, causing the rear of his truck to kick out, sending him sideways down the highway. His breath caught as he fought to maintain control. Headlights fast approached the passenger side. Noah spun the wheel again. For a moment, he felt weightless, as if he were flying one of his helicopters, then the truck came to a sudden stop on the shoulder. For a brief second, he questioned if he’d survived. He looked behind him to see that multiple vehicles had collided and he’d somehow escaped unscathed.

  Hannah had feared his daughters would lose another parent because of his job. Instead, he’d almost lost his life the same way Lauren had. An icy chill passed through him and he wondered if she’d been his guardian angel keeping him safe for the family waiting for him in Texas.

  Chapter Eight

  Whoever said absence makes the heart grow fonder needed to be slapped. It had been over a week since she’d last seen Noah in person. They video chatted every night, sometimes during the day, depending on their schedules, and Noah had even begun reading the girls their bedtime stories. The situation wasn’t perfect, but it worked.

  She checked herself in the mirror one last time. Okay, for the twentieth time. It was late Friday evening and Noah said he’d arrive before midnight. He was supposed to arrive yesterday, but a storm in Oregon had shut down the airport for twelve hours. She’d checked his flight—twice. It had landed almost two hours ago. She’d expected him to call once he picked up his rental car, but he hadn’t. She’d received a one-line text message instead saying he was on the way.

  Hannah checked on the girls before heading downstairs. They still slept in the same crib. She tried separating them every night, and after a few hours of temper tantrums, she gave up. She didn’t see the harm in them sleeping together, but they needed more room. They’d be twenty-two months old in a few days and Hannah felt it was time to transition them into bigger beds. Charlotte had already managed to climb out of the crib twice. Hannah had installed a baby gate at the top of the stairs when she first purchased the house. Even though the social worker said it had passed inspection, Hannah had gone ahead and replaced it with a much higher one the other day. She feared if the twins made it past the gate across the bedroom door, they’d scale the other and tumble down the stairs. Trying to keep up with their inquisitive minds kept Hannah awake most nights.

  Headlights bounced off the far wall of the room. She looked out the window and saw a pickup truck pulling down the drive toward the house. Noah. She closed the door and quickly tiptoed downstairs, not wanting to wake the girls. They’d grown more accustomed to Noah every day through their video chats and had begun anticipating his next call. She ran out on the porch to greet him, barefoot in the chilly night air. He’d parked at the bottom of the stairs. “Hi.”

  “Hi, yourself. I’m sorry I didn’t call. My battery was about to die and all I packed was my wall charger.” The outdoor sconces on both sides of the door bathed him in a radiant golden light. Noah slung his black duffel bag over his shoulder, exposing the fitted navy blue T-shirt beneath his vintage bomber jacket. His chest muscles flexed as he climbed the stairs. Thank God it wasn’t daytime, because if he’d been wearing aviators she’d be a puddle on the floor. The man was rugged to the core. A small cell phone screen did not do him justice. She wanted to pull a Charlotte and run her palms over his stubble, luxuriating in the feel of it against her bare hands. “Hannah? I asked you how you are.”

  “What?” She snapped to attention. “I’m good.”

  “You sure?” He searched her face. “You looked like you were someplace else there for a minute.”

  I was. She hadn’t meant to ogle him...well, at least she hadn’t meant to get caught doing it. “Sorry, the girls’ room is right above the porch and I was thinking about not waking them.”

  “Oh, good point.” The corners of his mouth lifted invitingly. “In that case, we should go inside.” He looked down the length of the porch. “I love the scarecrow Mr. and Mrs. Claus. Did you make the Christmas sweaters?”

  “That was all Abby. She loves to knit.” Hannah and the twins had more sweaters than they could possibly wear during their short Texas winters. “Be careful. If you sit still long enough, you might end up with a Christmas sweater of your own.”

  “Thanks for the warning.” His eyes dropped to her feet and he smiled. “Believe it or not, I’ve missed your toes.”

  “Excuse me?” Hannah started to laugh at the unexpected comment.

  “My house isn’t exactly a barefoot kind of place. I got used to kicking off my boots with you. Wow, that sounded corny.” For the first time since they’d met, his cheeks darkened and Hannah found the vulnerability endearing. “Love the horse-head wreath on the door.”

  “Thank you.” The pine creation with its red ribbon halter and miniature pinecone decorations had delighted the girls when her sister-in-law brought it over the other day. “Abby again. She’s the crafting queen.”

  “Are you going to invite me in?”

  “Of course!” she said louder than she’d anticipated. “Come in.”

  Hannah wished she’d thought to turn on the foyer light before heading outside. The faint glow from the living room lamps p
rovided a whisper of illumination, leaving her to stand in the shadows with Noah mere inches from her grasp.

  “I didn’t just miss your toes. I missed all of you.” His voice, intoxicating and deep, sent a shiver of desire down her spine. Before she had a chance to respond, his mouth sought hers as his arms wrapped firmly around her waist, pressing the length of his body against hers. The caress of his lips left her breathless. And then he released her—much too soon, for she’d barely been sated.

  Hannah blindly reached for the newel post to steady herself. “Wow.” The faintness of her voice mirrored the weakness in her limbs. Clearly, he didn’t need to wear sunglasses to melt her resolve. “Where in heaven’s name did that come from?”

  After their relationship conversation the day Noah had left, neither of them had mentioned it again. They hadn’t had a chance between legal updates and constant toddler activity.

  “Did I offend you?” He laughed quietly.

  “No.” Hannah hurried into the living room. It was safer...brighter. She would see him coming this time—if he attempted to kiss her again. The thought alone warmed her insides. “The topic of us hasn’t come up in a while, so I wasn’t sure if you still felt the same way.”

  Noah shrugged off his jacket in the foyer and draped it over the banister. Holding her gaze, he knocked off his boots and swiftly crossed the room to stand in front of her. “Tell me you don’t want to see where this goes and I’ll never press the issue again. I promise I won’t hold it against you or cut you out of the children’s lives.”

  Hannah bristled at the last part. “As if you could.” She stepped away from him.

  A cloud of sadness settled upon his features. “I had hoped you’d realize by now that I would never hurt you that way. I’ve apparently failed to convey the message, and for that, I apologize. But I will not apologize for wanting you.” He slid his hands into the pockets of his jeans almost shyly, as if he’d exposed more of himself than he’d intended.