The Twin Birthright. Catherine Mann

couldn’t will his feet to move, eyes fixed on the glass that separated him from the nurse’s station where the twins were being settled. He watched the staff cradle the girls, tugging a tiny T-shirt and cap on each newborn before swaddling them in a blanket. Try as he might, he couldn’t avert his gaze now that he’d finally made it to the hospital.

      The trek here looped in his mind as he remembered the sinking feeling in his chest, being stuck in a damn tow truck with no rights to Naomi or the babies. He’d called to postpone his guest lecture series at the university. He’d also arranged for a car to pick him up in the morning, and sent an email to his administrative assistant at the oil company to start the paperwork for a replacement SUV. A new version of the one he’d had. He didn’t like change in his life. From a make and model of a vehicle to a brand of boots.

      At least he hadn’t been stuck finding a ride tonight. The driver had taken pity on him and brought him all the way to the hospital before leaving with the demolished SUV.

      Monitors beeped, briefly calling his attention away from the smells of disinfectant and stale coffee. Even late at night, the hospital hummed with activity here in the maternity ward. The low din of a family huddled together waiting to hear the news. A couple of grandparents at the window, tapping. A cart rattled by, pulled by a nurse. A mother walked slowly down the hall, pushing a wheeled hospital bassinet.

      A rush of cold air pricked the hairs on the back of his neck as he registered the sound of doors opening. Barely enough time to digest the herd of people flooding in. Naomi’s family filled the room, rushing toward him and the glass window pane. Concern became a common, identifiable feature on everyone’s brow.

      So. Many. Brows.

      Her sister, Delaney; two of her brothers, Broderick and Aiden. Broderick’s wife, Glenna, and a slew of other Steeles and Mikkelsons, whose faces all started to become a blur after a while, there were so many of them.

      So many people here to support Naomi and the girls. That was a good thing. He should be fine with leaving. She didn’t want him here. She’d pushed him away.

      But he wasn’t anywhere near okay with turning his back on them. He needed to see her settled in with the girls after the tumultuous delivery. He could provide a buffer between her and her overprotective family. He’d already sent out messages to excuse himself from work for a few days, his research taking a back burner to this.

      Delaney—a shier version of Naomi—tugged her dark ponytail tighter, her eyes welling with tears that glistened even brighter than her diamond stud earrings. “Ohmigod, Royce, what happened to my sister?”

      “The babies?” Glenna’s gaze was direct.

      Broderick stepped up behind his wife. “In a snowstorm?”

      The Steeles and Mikkelsons were out in full, overwhelming force.

      In days past, they would have been at each other’s throats. Now they were a unified wall of huge personalities.

      Royce shifted toward them, while keeping his body angled enough toward the window that he could still see the infants out of the corner of his eye. “We had just left the doctor’s appointment. She got a clean bill of health, so we took a drive to get a bite to eat. The storm came out of nowhere right as she went into labor.” He gestured toward the side-by-side warmers, with pediatricians and nurses gathered on the other side of the partition glass. “Those are your nieces.”

      Delaney stepped closer with a soft, “Oh, my.”

      Glenna pulled her cell phone from its monogrammed leather case, smiling, her CFO, no-nonsense demeanor fading. “We need photos. Lots. Mom and Jack are already texting me like crazy for updates.”

      The Steele patriarch and Mikkelson matriarch were on a belated honeymoon.

      Broderick, the oldest of the Steele siblings—and a numbers person like his wife—gripped his Stetson. “Well, you certainly came through. I can’t thank you enough.”

      Glenna stepped nearer to her husband, her phone in her hand and her eyes still fixed on the window. “It had to be scary for you.”

      Teenager Aiden Steele didn’t even look up from the screen of his social media feed when he snorted, then said, “Like any guy’s going to admit that.”

      Royce exhaled hard, muttering, “It was scary. As hell.”

      Broderick’s stern face went taut. “Damn straight, it was.” He pinned his youngest brother with a quick stare. “Only young fools don’t know when to be afraid.” He looked back. “Being scared and pushing ahead, that’s bravery.”

      Royce cleared his throat. “I’m just glad everyone’s all right,” he repeated, for what felt like the millionth time, but knew it could never be said enough to ease the chill inside him. The room started to close in on him with all these people.

      Glenna wrapped her arms around herself, visibly trying to calm down as she rubbed her hands over the elbows of a cashmere cardigan. “Marshall—” the middle Steele son “—flew out to get Mom and Jack and bring them back here.”

      “I’m sure Naomi wouldn’t want to interrupt their honeymoon.” Royce waved a hand. Despite the difficulties between them, he knew Naomi could do without the fanfare. She wanted to prove she was capable all on her own. And the last thing he wanted was for her stress level to rise right now and have her blood pressure spike as a result.

      Jack and Jeannie had certainly waited long enough for a real honeymoon. They’d had to delay their wedding and their trip after Jack’s spinal injury in a horseback riding accident. Luckily, he’d made a miraculous recovery after the surgery. They’d gotten married shortly after he’d gotten the neck brace off, but their celebration trip had been further delayed.

      Broderick shook his head. “Like Dad was going to take our word for it that his little girl’s okay?”

      “Fair enough.” Royce scrubbed a hand over his bleary eyes. The magnitude of the night’s events threatened to overwhelm him until he rocked back a step. “I’m going to find the coffee machine. Text me if you hear any news.”

      He wouldn’t have been able to sit idly by, twiddling his thumbs, until he’d seen Naomi and the babies. He still needed to clamp eyes on them again.

      Then he could walk away.

      * * *

      Naomi’s shakes had waned, but reality was just as rattling now that she was tucked in her hospital bed.

      The magnitude of all that could have gone wrong kept pounding through her head. She’d faced the possibility of death as a teenager with cancer, bringing memories too close to the surface anytime she visited a hospital. But the thought of something happening to her babies?

      That scared her more than anything she’d ever experienced.

      Hospital beds, even in the maternity ward, never did Naomi’s back any favors. The hospital decor spoke of an attempt at making the place seem more like a homey living room, but fell short of the mark. Doing her best to adjust her position, she sat straighter, determined to make a rapid recovery. The interminable bed rest of her pregnancy had made her stir-crazy. She blinked against the harsh lights of the room as her doctor and the pediatrician exited into the too white hallway.

      Despite the roadside delivery, the pediatrician had given her a positive report that ought to have put her mind at ease. Instead, Naomi fidgeted, rubbing her fingers together as the redheaded nurse with freckled constellations on her cheeks adjusted the covers and set a glass of room-temperature water on the rolling bedside table.

      The nurse closed the door behind her as she left, and the hushed sounds of hallway conversation dimmed.

      But Naomi’s heart was with her babies. She felt like the exams had taken longer than if she’d delivered the babies here. In fact, her daughters would have to stay in the nursery for observation tonight, since they’d been born in such unusual, unmonitored circumstances. The doctor had told her that once