“Ruth is everything you said she was,” he said just to me as he walked past.
I cheered up immediately. Cheered up and got a spurt of new energy.
An hour later I’d helped Sandy and Mike cook up hamburgers. It was at dinner that I blew it. “Would you hand me the mustard, Mike?” I asked.
Of course everyone stopped and looked at me, so I gave a little laugh and said that Kane reminded me of someone I knew who was named Mike so I’d mixed up the names. The women paid no attention to me, but I was sure that Sandy knew what was up. I felt bad for messing up Mike’s secret and wanted very much to apologize.
After dinner I helped clean up, but I couldn’t get Mike alone—Ruth seemed to be permanently attached to his left side—so I went for a walk.
I’m a good walker, and I find that hiking helps me think, so I guess I walked some miles down an old weed-infested road before I reached what had once been a pretty little house. It was set a
ll by itself in what was once a lovely garden. A couple of roses were still blooming beside the porch.
“An ancestor of mine used to live here.”
Mike spoke softly, but still I jumped.
“Sorry,” he said. “I thought you wanted to be alone, but I didn’t want to lose you.”
I smiled at him. In the moonlight he was almost as handsome as his brother. “About this evening…” I began, but Mike just laughed and said Sandy was used to twin tricks, and he was fine once Mike had explained.
“I brought a lantern. You want to look around?”
Mike was heavenly company. He told me about his ancestors who’d lived in the house, including one who was an actor so good he was called the Great Templeton. Being a lover of stories, I was thrilled with the house with the faded wallpaper covered with fat roses.
“Cale,” Mike said when we’d finished the tour, “whatever you do, don’t tell Kane you know we switched places.”
I had no idea why it would matter, but I laughed.
“I’m very serious about this,” he said. “Don’t make a mistake and say ‘Mike said,’ or ‘Mike did.’ It’s important, Cale.”
“All right. Scout’s honor.” All this cloak-and-dagger stuff was like my books.
“I have to go now and meet Kane’s truck. The next time you see me, I’ll be someone else.”
I guess that was twin humor. I reached out to shake his hand, but he gave me a sisterly hug and kissed my cheeks and made me promise to visit him and his family. Then he was gone, and I felt as though I’d just lost someone who could have been a lifelong friend.
I had no desire to leave the house. It had a good feeling to it, as though the people who’d lived in it so long ago had had a lot of love and laughter inside them.
Holding the lantern Mike had left behind, I wandered around the rooms on the ground floor, climbed into the loft, then back down again. I knew it was getting late and I should start the long walk back to that lovely group of women, but I was postponing leaving.
It was when I’d procrastinated until the last minute that I looked up to see Kane Taggert standing in the doorway. And in each arm was a little boy about five years old. They were asleep, snuggled against their father in complete trust, and they were the most beautiful things I’d ever seen in my life. And I wanted them.
Once I saw a $30,000 table I loved. I dreamed about it the way men dream about owning the fastest cars or a woman dreams about a man. But I had never in my life coveted anything as much as I did those two sleepy-eyed little boys.
I knew that Cowboy Taggert and I were mortal enemies; I knew we hated each other; but I also knew I had to touch those delicious creatures. Reaching up, I stroked a black curl that was as soft as angel’s hair.
“Are they real?” I whispered.
Amused, Taggert said, “Very real.”
I moved my hand down to touch a soft cheek. “But they look too perfect.”
He snorted. “I don’t know about perfect, but at least they’re clean now. Give them about two hours and they’ll be filthy again.”
“What are their names?”
“Jamie and Todd.”