The Cowboy's Twin Surprise. Cathy Mcdavid

next instant, it died when she extracted herself from his embrace. “Not now,” she said in a low voice, and stepped away, establishing a safe distance between them.

      “All right.”

      Had he really just answered her with complete composure? She’d left him shaken, both because of the intensity of their kiss—incredibly potent even after all this time—and her unnerving calm. How could her world not be spinning? His was, wildly out of control.

      Then again, she’d said, “Not now.” She hadn’t said, “Not ever again.” Spence wasn’t one to split hairs, but in his mind, there was a big difference.

      “Have a seat.” She gestured toward the couch.

      “Thanks.” He thought he detected a slight shakiness in her raised arm. Maybe she wasn’t immune to him, after all.

      Removing his cowboy hat, he placed it on the coffee table next to a stack of colorful books. Dr. Seuss? Really? Must be more childhood mementoes. Taking a cue from the dogs, who’d already claimed nearby spots on the floor, he lowered himself onto the couch.

      Was that a noise he heard from down the hall? Had Frankie left a TV on in the bedroom? Perhaps her sister Sam was here and had been issued strict instructions to stay out of sight while Spence was visiting.

      “You’ve done well for yourself,” he said.

      “This is mostly Dad’s doing. He won the lottery last spring. Maybe you heard.”

      “Your sisters mentioned something. I remember him buying tickets every week.”

      “Same numbers for over thirty years.”

      She chose the chair next to the side table rather than the end of the couch near him. Drat. Foiled again.

      “It wasn’t a fortune,” she said. “But enough to make all our lives easier. Dad split the money four ways between himself, Mel, Ronnie and me. I used my share for a down payment on this house and some furnishings. He and Dolores were getting married, and I didn’t want to be living with them.”

      “That was generous of him.”

      “It was. Ronnie started her barrel racing school with her share and Mel bought her vet practice. Dad paid for his wedding to Dolores and their honeymoon in Hawaii.”

      “You like her? Your stepmom?” Spence remembered the Frankie from high school who desperately missed her late mother and believed it was her job to help raise her younger sisters.

      “She’s wonderful. We love her to pieces.”

      “I’m surprised you didn’t use your share to start your catering business.”

      “I thought about it. But getting my own place was more important. We were living wi—” She stopped herself, not for the first time tonight. “No new bride needs a third wheel.”

      “I suppose not.”

      A lull fell, one that Spence felt acutely. This wasn’t typical. For them, conversation had always flowed easily.

      “It’s a good-sized house,” he said. “Lots of room for you and Sam. She lives with you, right?”

      “She does, though she’s with friends tonight.” Frankie shifted uncomfortably. “Look, Spence. There’s a reason I asked you over tonight and it has nothing to do with my catering business or us.”

      “Okay.” His insides clenched, responding to the somber tone in her voice and worried expression on her face.

      “Wait here.” She rose. “Don’t move. Promise me. I have two very special people I’d like you to meet.”

      She disappeared from the room and padded down the hall. Spence strained his ears, hearing voices. So he hadn’t been wrong about someone else in the house. But who? Not a guy; she wasn’t dating, and not Sam. Her stepmom maybe?

      Finally, after what felt like an agonizing amount of time, Frankie reappeared, trailed by two little girls. What the heck...?

      Stopping in the middle of the room, she gathered the girls to her sides. They were a study in contrast: one short and blonde, the other taller and with dark hair. Nonetheless, something made Spence think they were sisters.

      “This is Paige—” Frankie lifted the shorter one’s hand, clasped firmly in hers “—and this is Sienna.” She patted the top of the taller one’s head with her other hand. “My daughters.”

      Spence was never at a loss for what to say. Until now. He stared at Frankie and the girls, a malfunction occurring in the area of his brain responsible for speech.

      Daughters? Impossible!

      Well, apparently not, for there they stood, wearing matching pajamas and staring at him with a mixture of shyness and curiosity.

      “Um...uh, hello,” he managed to choke out.

      “I thought you three should meet. Girls, say hi.”

      “Hi,” they both said simultaneously and softly, clinging to their mother.

      Their mother! Frankie had children. Two of them! This explained the pictures on the wall and the Dr. Seuss books.

      When had it happened? Well, obviously during the last four years. How old were they? Spence wasn’t good at these things, having no experience. He was the youngest of three siblings and not a father himself. His oldest brother had children, but he and his wife lived in Marana. Spence visited them only once or twice a year.

      “We’re twins,” the shorter one said, as if she made that announcement regularly.

      “Really? You don’t look alike.”

      “They’re fraternal twins,” Frankie explained.

      Whatever that meant. Not wishing to appear stupid, Spence said nothing.

      “I’m older.” Again, the smaller one spoke. “Six minutes.”

      “Then how come you’re smaller?”

      “Grandpa says I’m still growing.”

      Did the taller one talk at all? Spence looked at her closely. Large, expressive eyes. Brown hair straight and thick as a horse’s tail. She reminded him of someone, though he couldn’t put his finger on who. The shorter one was the spitting image of Frankie. A Hartman through and through.

      “Well,” she started, “I just wanted to introduce you before I put them to bed. Say good-night, girls.”

      They did, and Frankie escorted them back to their bedroom.

      Unable to just sit there after they left, Spence sprang up from the couch and crept along the entryway leading down the hall. There, he waited and listened to Frankie conversing with her daughters as she tucked them in bed.

      She was sweet with them, making promises for the next day, reciting a good-night prayer and telling them to “Sleep tight.” He was admittedly touched.

      Before she turned off the light, Spence crept away and resumed his seat on the living room couch. His entire body shook, the result of shock and wonder and surprise. He’d returned to Mustang Valley thinking, hoping, possibly to win Frankie back.

      Her having daughters changed that. Spence wasn’t sure he was ready to step into the role of parent, even a stepparent.

      His first instinct was to leave town. But then, wasn’t that always his first plan of action? And probably what Frankie expected of him. She could be testing him again, like she had this morning about being on time. He’d bragged to her he was a changed man. Leaving town would show he’d lied.

      But daughters. Two of them. He was entitled to be taken aback. And reevaluating his return to Mustang Valley in order to woo Frankie was completely understandable.

      Hearing her sigh, he glanced up.

      She smiled weakly. “That