His Twin Baby Surprise. Patricia Forsythe

she did.

      “Ben, I’m...I’m glad you’re willing to provide financial support, but we should have a legal agreement.” She studied his face, unsure how he would react to that statement.

      “That makes sense, and I can pay for...for your before-baby care, too.”

      “It’s called prenatal care. Thanks, but I don’t need your help. I’ve got health insurance, a good hospital, a good doctor. And Gemma will help deliver the baby when it’s time.”

      He nodded. “And the time will be...September?”

      “That’s right.”

      “I’ve been invited to help establish an American-style football league in India. I have to be there in August, but sometimes there are delays. I might be in town in September,” he said.

      Lisa dropped her head forward in surrender. Leaning down, she set the bowl beside the glass and stood. “I’m so glad you think you might be able to fit the birth of your child into your schedule, but I don’t expect you to be there.”

      He surged to his feet. “I didn’t mean it like that. I want to help—”

      “Yes, as long as it corresponds with what you already have planned and doesn’t interfere with your freedom.” Turning, she stomped to the door.

      “Be fair,” he insisted, following her. “I don’t know anything about kids.”

      Unwanted tears sprung into her eyes as she said, “And that’s the way it’s going to stay, isn’t it, Ben?” She waved a hand in dismissal. “You can be whatever kind of father you want to be.”

      Eager to escape a situation that had gone from uncomfortable to unbearable, she grasped the doorknob. Of course, the door wouldn’t open. Ben reached around and gave it a tug, but this time she was quick enough to move aside and avoid injury. She hurried out and down the steps to her car with him following.

      As she slid behind the wheel, he leaned in and said, “We can talk about this later, when we’ve both had time to process it a little.”

      “You’ll be hearing from my attorney,” she responded, jerking the door shut.

      Ben called after her, but she started the car, turned in a big circle and slammed on the gas pedal, shooting up gravel that had him scrambling backward. Blaming overactive hormones for her out-of-control emotions, she wiped away her tears, took a breath and concentrated on driving.

      She had done what she was supposed to do. Ben now knew he was going to be a father, a role he obviously didn’t want. She didn’t know exactly what she’d expected to happen, but this was worse than she’d imagined.

      Now that she’d had time to come to terms with her impending motherhood, she felt exhilarated but also terrified. She had to remember that she had friends, a support system that would help her every step of the way. Her baby would have honorary aunts in Gemma and Carly and uncles in their husbands, Nathan Smith and Luke Sanderson—even a cousin in Carly and Luke’s adopted son, Dustin. Her child wouldn’t have a father. But then, Lisa had never had one, either.

      * * *

      LONG SHADOWS WERE stretching across the road as Lisa gratefully headed for home. She couldn’t wait to go inside, put her feet up, eat dinner and try to come to terms with what had turned out to be an emotionally wrenching day. She’d known it would be hard telling Ben about the baby, but she hadn’t expected the overwhelming disappointment she’d felt in the charming, winsome Ben McAdams.

      She wanted to talk to Gemma and Carly about it, but it was dinnertime and they had family responsibilities, so the lengthy talk she would need to put this into perspective would have to wait.

      As she approached her home, she glanced over in surprise to see an ancient compact car parked out front. Her stomach quivered nervously when saw the Illinois license plate. The car appeared to be stuffed with bags and boxes.

      Cautiously, she parked in her carport, grateful for the automatic lights that flipped on as soon as she pulled in. Looking around as she stepped from the car, she reached into her pocket for her cell phone, prepared to call for help. She was two miles out of town, though, so she didn’t think assistance would arrive as quickly as she might need it.

      “Hello?” she ventured, her gaze darting around. She kept the car door open in case she had to leap in and make a fast getaway. Fortunately the carport was open at both ends and no longer obstructed by the broken-down tractor that had once barred the way.

      At the sound of a hesitant step behind her, she spun around. She had her keys in her hand, the tips protruding from between her fingers—the only weapon at her disposal.

      “Oh, hello,” a woman’s voice said as she stepped into the light.

      Lisa blinked, astonished. “Maureen?”

      “You said we could talk later,” Maureen said with a hesitant smile, running a hand through her short, dark hair. She shrugged one shoulder in a way Lisa thought looked vaguely familiar. “Hello, Lisa.”

      “Um, hi. I’m sorry I didn’t call you. I’ve had...a crazy day and...” Her voice trailed off. The drama with Ben had made her forget about Maureen.

      “It’s okay. I know it must have been a shock for me to come strolling into your office that way. It’s a lovely place, by the way. Very neat and clean.”

      “Thank you.”

      “I was taking a look around while I waited,” Maureen said, her hands sweeping out to encompass the property. “I hope you don’t mind. The place is wonderful. What did you do with all that junk Dad had piled everywhere?”

      “Um, uh, sold it, donated it, tossed it...” Lisa’s voice trailed off. She couldn’t seem to make sense of what was happening, couldn’t believe what her eyes were telling her. The mother she barely knew was standing in front of her, casually talking about how great the old homestead looked. “Were you looking for...something?”

      Maureen answered with an awkward laugh. “No. It’s just that I’d never seen the place without piles of old tires, wrecked cars and various abandoned tasks all jumbled together.” She paused, glanced around and stuffed her hands into her pockets.

      Good grief, Lisa thought. What should she say to this woman? The mother who’d left her when she was a month old?

      Her curiosity overcame her trepidation. Stepping away from her car, she closed the door and said, “Would you like to come in?”

      Immediately, Maureen’s shoulders relaxed and relief flooded her face. “Yes, thank you.”

      Maureen waited while Lisa unlocked the door and held it open so she could precede her into the kitchen.

      Once they were inside and Lisa had flipped on the light in the kitchen, she was able to get a better look at her mother. Maureen was examining the room, her mouth open in awe.

      There was no denying who Maureen’s parents were. She had Grandma Lily’s dark blue eyes, which Lisa had also inherited, and her face was square-shaped like Grandpa Wesley’s. Her short dark hair was touched with gray and her face was free of makeup. Lisa thought she appeared drawn and thin, but she saw her mother so infrequently, she couldn’t be sure.

      She attempted to see the kitchen as her mother did. It had been completely gutted, and where piles of books, boxes of odds and ends, and other detritus had once made it impossible to move without the danger of injury, the simplest of hickory cabinets, white-tiled countertops and stainless-steel appliances had been installed. A row of glass jars filled with rice, pasta and beans was the only item on the counter. A couple of antique signs advertising long-vanished brands of ice cream hung on the wall over the breakfast nook. The cozy little corner held a small wooden table and two chairs Carly had found and refurbished for her. Lace curtains on the east-facing windows let the sunshine in every morning, brightening the whole room.

      Maureen pointed to the hardwood floor that gleamed a dark honey