The Bull Rider's Twins (14 page)

He tapped his watch again. No, twelve hours really had elapsed, and she hadn't spent them with him.

Which made him wonder if he'd said something to upset her. “Bath,” he said, “and I fell asleep. Possibly I should have offered to bathe with her, but she seemed determined to be alone.”

So that wasn't the problem.

“I'm pretty sure I shouldn't have been sleeping alone,” he muttered, and went to find Darla. There was a door that looked as if it connected to another room in the suite, so he banged on that, and a moment later she opened it, wearing a stunner of a white nightie. His breath left him.

“Yes?” Darla said, and he frowned.

“Why are you in there?”

“Where else would I be?”

He took in her pretty pink toenails, and sweet lace in a V down her front, almost to her belly. In fact, if she shifted just right, perhaps he could see a little bit more of Darla. The peekaboo effect really had his attention, so he decided to play it soft and smooth. “Shouldn't you be with me? In that nice comfy bed?”

She shook her head. “No, that's a honeymoon suite. I'm not on my honeymoon.”

“Oh,” he said, “
that's
what this is about. You're annoyed.” He had a sneaking suspicion he was caught in a plot, which shouldn't be happening in a honeymoon suite.

Other things should be happening, like lovemaking.

“Any chance I can convince you to let me order you breakfast in bed?”

She smiled. “I'd like that. Ask them to bring it to the B suite.”

He glanced over his shoulder. “Am I in the A side?”

“Yes,” she said, her tone like cotton candy. “A is for ass.”

He blinked. “Oh. This isn't a weekend for seduction. This is about showing me what I'm missing out on.”

“I always knew you were smart, cowboy.” Darla smiled at him, and his gut tightened. “We could be on a honeymoon, but we're not, because of a tiny bit of lead. We could be making love, but we're not, because you broke up with me, because of a fractional piece of lead. And so,” she said, “I'm sleeping without a husband, which I hate, because I really had my sights set on a certain cowboy. And so my children will be born without their father's last name, all because of a teeny weeny, miniscule—”

“That's it,” Judah said. “If you went to the trouble of getting a honeymoon suite, you probably also went to the trouble of making certain there was a justice of the peace around who would marry us after you drove me insane with that bridal nightie.”

Darla smiled. “Maybe.”

“Did you bring a dress and all the rigmarole a bride needs? I'd hate for you to marry me without feeling like a real bride.” Ten years from now, would she look back on their marriage as a quickie, low-budget affair? He tried to buck himself up to hero status in her eyes. “If you're determined to do this, we could fly to Hawaii.”

She handed him a menu. “Order breakfast. You'll need it to fortify yourself for giving up your bachelorhood. Fiona packed your tux. You'll find it hanging in the cabinet. I can't wait for Hawaii, Judah, because you might get shot. Although I can get you a bulletproof vest for under your tux, if you're worried.”

She closed the door.

“I'd like to think she's worried about me being shot,” Judah muttered, “but I think she's trying to tell me something.”

He went to order breakfast and then locate the tux the
little woman had thoughtfully commandeered on his behalf. Who was he to tell a lady wearing a white lacy nightie that he wouldn't run through a hail of bullets for just one night in her bed?

Fiona peeped in after Darla closed the connecting door between suite A and suite B. Jackie followed, as did Aberdeen, and Darla's mother, Mavis, with Corinne and Nadine waiting behind them. All her friends were here, and for Darla, sandbagging Judah like this couldn't have been more perfect.

“Is he gone?” Fiona asked.

“With his marching orders,” Darla said. “Come in.”

“We'll get you into this beautiful gown post haste,” Jackie said, “though I'm not afraid Judah's going to change his mind.”

Darla wasn't afraid of that, either. Not anymore. If she'd learned anything, it was that her man was stubborn and opinionated, and if Fiona said he really wanted to be caught, because he was too worried about the danger to Darla to go willingly, then maybe she was on to something.

“Judah did say once that he'd never be caught dead at an altar,” Darla said as Jackie eased her into the magic wedding dress, and Fiona said, “Well, he nearly was dead at the altar, so he was almost right, for once. We're just not going to tempt Fate a second time.”

“If it wasn't for the children,” Darla said, “getting married wouldn't matter to me so much.” But the instant she said the words, she knew it wasn't true. The magic wedding gown
sparkled on her, drew in light, making her catch her breath. “I love him,” she murmured. “I always have.”

“I know,” Jackie said. “That's why this time we're not taking any chances. It's all about the gown.”

It was true. The moment she'd waited for was here, and right. Deep inside herself, she knew Judah wasn't afraid of marrying her, he was afraid of hurting her. “Thank you all so much for helping me,” Darla said. “I treasure your friendship more than you can ever know.” She hugged her mother, and then, hearing Judah pound on the door adjoining their rooms, said, “You hide in here until we've left.”

The ladies concealed themselves in the large bathroom and the huge walk-in closet, and Darla opened the door. Judah, just as handsome as he'd been last night in his tux, stared at her. “New gown?”

“The one from last time had a few bloodstains on it,” Darla said. “I thought I'd wear something else for good luck.”

“The luck is all mine. Wow.” His eyes glittered as he took her in. “We could see how fast I can get you out of that gown now, and then go to the J.P.”

“No, thank you,” Darla said quickly, more than aware of the listening ears concealed in her room. “I'm not sure what time the office closes.”

Judah nodded. “That's probably a wise plan, but you know, you could change my mind. I'm easy.”

“I know.” Darla was blushing all over, and if she ever got the nerve to tell Judah where the wedding guests had been hiding, he would probably blush, too.

Or maybe he'd just be proud of himself.

“Then I guess we're going to run this route,” Judah said, “if you're sure you want to marry me.”

“I'm not one hundred percent certain,” Darla said coyly, “particularly as you once told me that marriage was for whipped men, and you wouldn't be caught dead doing it.”

“Got you into bed that night, didn't I, though?” Judah kissed her hand as Darla blushed again. “I knew you were the kind of girl who just couldn't resist a challenge.”

“Come on,” she said, knowing that later on she was going to get a lot of teasing from her lady friends—and heaven only knew what her mother thought about everything she was hearing. Fiona was probably shocked, too.

Judah smiled at her. “You're the most beautiful bride I've ever seen.”

“Really?” Darla asked. “Have you seen many?”

“My fair share,” her sexy rascal of a man said, “but somehow, you're the only woman who's ever made me feel like getting married is magical.”

“Let's go before the magic wears off, then,” Darla said, and Judah just smiled as he took her hand. He walked past the closet and banged on it, and then the bathroom door and banged on that, too, and said, “Ladies, don't be late to the wedding!” and Darla wondered if he'd just played hard to get to see if she wanted him enough to drag him to the altar.

He was the most infuriating man she'd ever known—and she was head over heels in love with him.

J
UDAH WASN'T CERTAIN
why he knew this moment was the best of his life, but the second that Darla Cameron said “I do” he felt like a new man. A better man. He couldn't have explained the emotions that swept over him as he watched her face while she spoke the words. All he knew was that something he'd waited for all his life had just agreed to be a part of him forever, and it was a very precious thing. He couldn't imagine not having Darla beside him at this moment and every other, and when he slipped the ring on her finger and she gazed up at him with wide, beautiful eyes, he just knew the moment was magic.

And he wanted it to last forever.

W
EEKS AFTER THE WEDDING
, gifts were still arriving at Darla's house, which now contained one cowboy husband and a bunch of well-wishers. Of course, everyone in Diablo wanted to know why she and Judah had married out of town. Darla simply told everyone that they'd decided to take a leaf from Aberdeen and Creed's wedding manual. Folks were satisfied with that, except that they were dying to see a wedding at Rancho Diablo.

Her house had become a shrine to weddings and babies. Darla had never seen so many presents. “These children will lack for nothing,” she told Judah, and he grinned as he unwrapped a pair of tiny pink snakeskin cowboy boots.

Then the smile slipped from his face. “Wait. Why are these pink, Darla?”

She glanced over at the boots. “I don't know, but they're darling.”

“I know that.” He studied them, mystified. “But they should be blue. Blue is for boys. My sons will not be wearing pink boots, even if they're in a cradle where I can cover them with a blanket.”

Darla laughed. “Babies don't wear cowboy boots in a cradle. They're for later on. Toddler age.”

“We'll have to take these back.”

Darla put down the crystal bowl she'd just unwrapped and went to look at the card. “The boots are from your brothers. Every single one of them signed the card. And there are two pairs of boots.” She giggled. “I never realized the Callahans are so into gag gifts.”

“I'm tired of gag gifts,” Judah grumbled.

Darla looked at him. “What do you mean?” she said, wondering if he was referring to the gag gift that had brought them together in the first place.

Judah dropped the boots back into the box. “Uh-uh,” he said, “you're not going to catch me that easily. I love gag gifts.
I love my brothers' insane sense of humor.” He kissed her cheek, her neck, finding his way to the buttons of her dress, which he casually popped open. “Don't worry that I meant the original, granddaddy of them all gag gift, because I didn't.”

“You'd better not.” She pulled away from his interested perusal of her cleavage. “Keep unboxing. We have a lot of thank-you letters to write.”

“This house isn't going to be big enough for all of us and all this stuff,” Judah pointed out.

Darla smiled. “Jackie and Aberdeen warned me this conversation would come up.”

“Why?” He shook his head. “By the way, I'm not writing the thank-you letter for these pink boots. You can do that one.”

Darla ignored his anxiety over the baby-girl boots. “Because somehow Jackie and Aberdeen said they found themselves eventually moving out to Rancho Diablo. I intend to hold firm, however.”

“But it's such a great place to live.” Judah held up a fluffy white baby blanket embroidered with a pink giraffe. “Why are we receiving pink things, Darla? Am I the last one in town to know something?”

She giggled. “It would be both of us. Unless my doctor has dropped a hint…”

They stared at each other.

“He wouldn't have,” Darla said.

Judah shook his head. “No. Doc Graybill wouldn't.”

“Unless Fiona wormed it out of him,” Darla said.

Judah started to deny the possibility, then closed his mouth.

Darla sighed. “Let me know if anybody gives us something blue. But you see, there are reasons not to live at Rancho Diablo while we're still getting to know each other, Judah.”

He gave her a look of innocence. “Did I ever hint that I wanted to move to the ranch?”

“You just claimed my house is too small.”

“It is,” Judah said, “but I like being as close to you as possible, Mrs. Callahan. In fact, I'd like to be a lot closer. Let's downsize and get a smaller house and a much smaller bed.” He grabbed her around the waist, lifting her so that she had to put down the gift she'd been unwrapping, after which he carried her to the bedroom.

Darla laughed, enjoying her husband's antics, thinking that there was nothing more wonderful than making love with Judah on a summer afternoon in August. But then pain sliced across her belly, and she doubled up. Worried, Darla waited for the pain to go away.

“What happened? Are you all right?” Judah asked, leaning over her as she took deep breaths through her nose, trying to stay calm.

Another cramp racked her. “Probably just a little baby kick or two. Maybe we're having dancers. I don't think it's something I ate.”

“We had oatmeal,” he said. “Plain organic oatmeal with a tiny bit of brown sugar, nothing exciting, so that means, Darla, my love, that you get a trip in my chariot to see the doctor. We'll let him tell us if you've got garden variety gas cramps. Or just a lot of baby fun going on in there.”

“I think you're right,” Darla said, letting Judah lead her past the presents to the door, feeling her whole world shake around her.

“I'
M NO COWARD
,” Judah told his brothers, who'd gathered around him to wait at the hospital, where Darla had been instantly sent by her concerned doctor, “but I'm shaking like a leaf right now. And if somebody doesn't come out of that room soon and tell me something about my wife, I'm going Rambo.”

“Easy,” Jonas said. “Darla needs you in a Zen state, not all whacked out. Everything's going to be fine.”

“You're a cardiac guy, what the hell do you know about that end of the female body, anyway?” Judah snapped, appreciating his brother trying to ease his fears, but unable to do anything but bite down on any hand that reached out to comfort him. Like a feral wolf. That's how he felt: feral, primitive, caged. This is when he ran. Always separating himself from fear, anxiety, doubt.

This time he couldn't. He had to sit here and wait. Darla wasn't far enough along to be having the babies. He knew that, though Jonas hadn't proffered any professional opinion. Judah had seen his brother hanging around the nurses' station, ferreting information out of them. Medical terminology was way over Judah's head at the moment. He wanted a simple “your wife is fine, your babies are fine.”

He wanted to be with Darla, but Darla had said she wanted him to stay in the waiting room. Had insisted.

The anxiety was killing him. He wondered why she hadn't wanted him with her. Shouldn't a wife want her husband? If he didn't hear something soon, he was going to make everybody mad by barging into his wife's room, and damn the consequences. Of all people, Darla knew best that he wasn't a patient worrier. He wasn't patient about anything.

At least he had his brothers with him to wait this agony out. “So, you guys are butts for giving Darla and me pink cowboy boots.”

“You're having two babies,” Sam pointed out. “We thought it was a priceless idea. Rafe came up with that one. I was rooting for pink baby dolls, but then Rafe suggested pink ropers and we immediately ordered them.”

Judah grunted. “Why not blue?”

His brothers smirked at him.

“Why would you be the one to have the boys in this family?” Creed asked.

“A precedent has been set, if you haven't noticed,” Pete
said, “and we figure gambler's odds on pink being the order of the day.”

“We'll see about that.” He'd be happy to have babies of either sex—babies born healthy and yelling the ears off the nurses, though not tonight. They weren't quite ready to come out of the maternal oven. “What could be taking so long? Darla was just having a bit of a stomach ache.”

The brothers turned their gazes to Jonas, who shrugged.

He was saved from answering by the doctor coming out. “Mr. Callahan?” he said, and all the brothers said, “Yes?”

“Sorry,” Rafe said, “we're strung tighter than guitars. This is Dad.” He pointed to Judah, who stood, with nervous pangs attacking him.

“I'm Darla's husband,” he said. “These are my brothers.”

“Why don't you step back here so we can talk, Mr. Callahan?” the doctor suggested. “I'm Dr. Feske.”

“Can I see my wife?” Judah asked.

“You can, but let's talk first.” They settled in a small room, and from the unsmiling expression on Dr. Feske's face, Judah knew the news wasn't good.

“Is Darla all right?”

“Your wife is fine. Your daughters were born prematurely—”

Judah tried to bat back the small specks of blackness dancing in front of his eyes. “Prematurely? They've hardly had time to grow.”

“The success rate with preemies is quite good, though they'll be in the hospital for some time.”

“Is something wrong?” Judah pressed his palms together, trying to keep his hands from shaking.

“We're running tests to make certain everything is as it should be, in the range for the amount of time they spent—”

“Doctor,” Judah interrupted, “is Darla all right?”

He nodded. “Mr. Callahan, the prognosis is good for your
entire family. Yes, the babies are young, but they seem well-developed and within the norm for what—”

“I'm sorry,” Judah said. “But I can only take in about half of what you're saying, and I really need to see my wife.” He wasn't certain he'd ever felt this desperate in his life. Fear gnawed at him, driving him crazy.