Taking On Twins

Taking on Twins

Carolyn Zane

MILLS & BOON

Before you start reading, why not sign up?

Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!

SIGN ME UP!

Or simply visit

signup.millsandboon.co.uk

Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

One

“Wyatt?”

Wyatt Russell glanced up to see his foster cousin and bride-to-be Liza Colton burst through the front doors of her uncle Joe’s massive Spanish-style ranch house. In her tail-wind she dragged some hapless devil that he could only guess to be her fiancé. Liza’s giddy laughter rang out and a grin started in Wyatt’s belly and flared into his cheeks. Man, it was good to be back. As he pulled his bags out of the trunk of the idling cab, Wyatt inhaled a deep lungful of home.

Ah, Prosperino, California. Just standing in this fertile valley was rejuvenating.

The day was typically sunny, the sweeping vista filled with rolling hills and endless blue sky.

Yes, this was paradise on earth. Even more so, because of the people who waited here for his return.

“Yes! Nick, honey, it is Wyatt! Sweetheart, come on, hurry!”

“Nick,” as it were—wearing an indulgent smile—allowed himself to be yanked by the wrist as Liza rushed down the aggregate steps that led from the Hacienda de Alegria and to the cab parked beneath the sprawling portico. “Wyatt Russell, you sneaky—and terminally late might I add—rascal! I can’t believe you are actually here in time for my wedding! And a week early? Nick, honey, get ready to catch me, I may faint.”

“Liza!” Wyatt dropped his suitcases in favor of a hug and swept the willowy woman into his arms.

After they rocked and exclaimed over each other for a moment, Wyatt set Liza back on her feet and looked her up and down. Now slender and sophisticated, cousin Liza’s baby fat had migrated to all the right places, leaving her a beautiful woman. Wyatt let out a low whistle.

“Good grief. My little Lizard’s gone and grown up on me.”

“So have you, Beevis.” Liza preened under his scrutiny. She reached up and lightly touched the cleft in his chin with a forefinger. “Handsome as ever I see, ya big heartbreaker.”

Wyatt rolled his eyes. “How long has it been?”

“Too long.” She pouted. “Now that you’re a big-time Washington lawyer, you don’t have time for us little people.”

“This from the diva of the hoi polloi.”

“Don’t tell me you pay any attention to my career.”

Wyatt snorted. “Only every time I go through the checkout line. Did you know that you and Elvis are expecting an alien baby?”

“That is so yesterday. You obviously haven’t heard that Nick and I are divorcing.”

“Before the wedding?”

“Saves all kinds of time, don’t you agree?”

“Always thinking. And, speaking of your career, congratulations on getting your voice back. You sound better than ever.”

She lifted a palm of supplication to the heavens. “Thanks to Nick.” Liza tugged her fiancé from where he stood in the shadows behind her. “That’s how we met. He was my doctor.”

“Nick, music fans everywhere are indebted to you, man.”

Nick chuckled. “She makes me look good.”

“Wyatt, I want you to meet the man I love—” her sigh was content as she circled his biceps with her arms “—Nick Hathaway. Nick, Wyatt Russell was one of Uncle Joe’s many foster sons and—” she grinned “—my nemesis growing up.”

As Wyatt held his hand out to Nick, he could see the love sparkling in Liza’s eyes and knew that she was happy. He felt a tiny stab of envy and exhaled in a world-weary way. If only he could get his caseload to cooperate, maybe he could start penciling in a social life. A special someone. The bachelor deal was growing tedious and he longed for the type of connection with a woman that he saw radiating between these two.

He raked a hand through his hair. Weddings. They always made him go soft in the head.

“Good to know you, Nick,” he said, gripping the other man’s hand and clapping him on the back. And he meant it. There was something about Nick that immediately inspired trust. Wyatt liked him already.

“Good to meet you, too. Liza has told me all about you.”

“All?” Wyatt bent to retrieve his bags. “Has she told you that if you want to hear her really hit those high notes, a well-placed pile of plastic barf will do the trick? I recommend her sock drawer, although her shoes and her closet are both good.”

Nick cast a thoughtful look upon his intended. “I’ll keep this in mind.”

“You will do no such thing! Wyatt, leave your luggage here. We’ll get it later.” Flitting like a delicate butterfly, Liza moved between the men and, slipping her hands into the crooks of their elbows, urged them toward the house. “Right now everyone is wanting to see you. Especially Uncle Joe.”

Just as Liza had predicted, the welcoming committee was waiting in the parlor just off the breezy foyer.

“Wyatt, my boy!” Family patriarch Joe Colton’s affectionate voice reverberated off the endless expanse of slate flooring, and Wyatt was summarily joggled and jostled and pounded on the back. “You made it, son! Good deal. Just in time for dinner, too. Nothing has changed, I see.”

The poignancy of belonging burned the back of Wyatt’s throat as he returned Joe’s manly displays of affection. It was such a relief to see Joe standing there, safe and sound considering what he’d been through last year. The older man carried only a light scar on his cheek as a somber reminder of the attempt made on his life at his sixtieth birthday party.

“You’re looking good, Joe.”

Joe snorted and waved the compliment away.

Wyatt grinned. Joe never could take a compliment. He never seemed comfortable with the fact that, even in middle age, he was still a handsome guy, commanding the ladies’ attention with dark good looks and the physical build he hammered into shape every morning. Even though he’d just entered his seventh decade, his hair was only now beginning to silver at his temples, which only added to his distinguished appeal.

But none of that stuff mattered to Joe.

No. To Joe, family love and a good moral character were of utmost importance. And that was why, Wyatt noted with admiration, Joe Colton was the man he was today.

As Joe steered him into the parlor, Wyatt heard his name ring out. Soon, he was enveloped in hugs and memories of happy times that began in the bosom of this family and he laughed with unbridled joy at each familiar face that came forward to greet him. This family was his heart and soul.

But even so, he was suddenly feeling a tad fifth-wheelish.

As he looked over the crowd of faces that helped to shape his youth, everyone, it seemed to Wyatt, had a partner in this old life. Everyone but him. Odd how he’d never really noticed this feeling before today. Then again, there had been a rash of weddings recently. His gaze slowly swept the crowd as he made note of the many couples.

Besides Joe and Meredith, there were the parents of the bride, Uncle Graham and Aunt Cynthia, Wyatt’s foster brother Rand and his wife, Lucy, Joe’s daughter Sophie and her husband, River, Joe’s son, Drake and his wife, Maya, and family friend, Heather, and her husband, Thad.

And, of course, there were the bride and groom, Liza and Nick.

And these were just the people in the parlor at the moment. Damn. Wyatt passed a palm over his jaw. When had everyone gone and paired off? Over the next hour, more of the family moved in and out to extend their greetings, all married, or at the very least, engaged.

“Hey brother, how was your flight?” Rand—Wyatt’s foster brother and newest partner in their Washington D.C. law practice—inquired as he pressed a cold drink into Wyatt’s hand.

“Smooth as glass. Yours?”

“Same.” Rand lowered his voice and darted a covert glance over his shoulder at Meredith. “Have you seen Austin yet?” Austin McGrath was a shirttail foster cousin of his and Rand’s and a private investigator of growing renown.

Wyatt shook his head. “Last time we spoke on the phone, he’d hit a dead end. But he said he was close and should be sending over some sensitive information as soon as it comes in.”

“Good. I’m anxious to see if he has anything new on the situation with—” he glanced over his shoulder at Meredith “—Mom. If he sends news, I want to meet with you in private and bring you up to speed.”

Wyatt nodded. “Sure.”

“By the way, brother, thanks for staying behind and wrapping up so many loose ends back at the office. Lucy and I needed the family time.”

“No sweat. How was San Francisco?”

Rand crossed his eyes for a brief, yet meaningful moment. “We spent a few days…er, enjoying Lucy’s relatives. At her second cousins insistence, young Max will be staying there, until the wedding. Wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

“Ah. In-laws. How is that?”

“You’re a lucky man, Wyatt. Don’t take your bachelorhood for granted.”

“In-laws are that bad?”

Brow arched, Rand’s grin was weak.

Wyatt’s shrug was philosophical. “Yeah, well, at least you have a date to the wedding.”

Turning from her conversation with the bride, Lucy stepped between them and looked from her husband to Wyatt and back again and, as if she knew what they’d been talking about, said, “Rand, we’ve got to get Wyatt a date to the wedding.”

Wyatt laughed. “Can’t you turn her off for a minute?”

Rand shook his head. “Are you kidding?”

“Lucy—” Wyatt dragged her against his chest and ruffled her hair “—give it a rest. It’s bad enough that I have to put up with your incessant matchmaking on a daily basis back home.”

“Some day you’ll thank me.”

“I’ll thank you to shut up.”

Lucy pretended to pout. “Okay, Mr. Grinch. Come on, I’ll show you your suite. It’s right across from ours. Lucky you. I can matchmake all weekend.”

“Lucky me.”

As Wyatt unpacked his bags and stowed them in the closet of his luxurious suite, he couldn’t help but wonder if there would ever be a wedding in his own future.

He gave his head a sharp shake. Nah. He’d blown his chance, back in college with Annie.

Annie.

Not a day went by that he didn’t think of her. Even the mere thought of her name had his guts roiling with regret. A muscle worked in his jaw and he ground his back teeth in a way that was becoming second nature. What an idiot.

He could have been happily married by now, with a couple of kids to wrestle if he hadn’t been so self-focused. Wyatt rolled his shoulders and rotated his head from side to side to ease the tension.

Something about Liza’s impending marriage made him reflective. Maudlin. Short-tempered. And he knew it had a lot to do with his own sorry, lackluster personal life. Oh, his career path was very fulfilling and had been since college. But now that he had hit—and passed—thirty, he harbored a yearning for something he’d felt very strongly the moment he stepped from the cab.

Family. Home. Belonging to a unit. There was nothing like it.

A knock sounded at his door. “Wyatt? It’s me, Lucy.”

Then again, along with family came the hassles…. With a mock frown, Wyatt yanked open his door and barked, “I can find my own damned dates.”

“Yeah, right. Come on, Rand,” Lucy called. “He’s decent.” She scowled and moved into Wyatt’s room and perched on the bench at the end of his bed. “Well, he’s dressed anyway.”

Rand, reading as he walked, moved into the room and dropped down to sit next to his wife.

Noticing the sober look on his foster brother’s face, Wyatt stopped unpacking. “What is it?”

“The information Emily’s been wanting for so long finally came in.”

“Have you spoken with Emily?” Wyatt couldn’t help but worry and wonder about their young sister. Though she was of age, she was still just a kid in his mind.

“Not yet. But I will. Listen. Austin had a courier drop this by so that we could take a look.”

Wyatt moved to the end of his bed and dropped on the bench next to Lucy, sandwiching her between himself and Rand. “What does it say?”

“More evidence that Meredith isn’t Meredith anymore.” Rand’s tone was wry.

Wyatt’s exhale was long and slow. “What now?”

Rand tapped the pages he held. “Okay. So far we’ve all suspected that the woman out there we’ve known as ‘Mom’ might not be mom at all, but instead, her twin sister.”

“Patsy Portman,” Lucy murmured.

“Right.”

“That’s just…so hard to believe. I mean, come on. It’s wacky.” Wyatt raked a hand through his hair. ”

“True. But Emily believes it,” Rand drawled. “And she was traumatized enough to run away last September.”

“We should have listened to Emily.” To stem his agitation, Wyatt stood and moved to the wet bar. He pulled bottles of sparkling water from the refrigerator and passed them out.

“Don’t be so hard on yourselves,” Lucy murmured as she popped the top to her bottle. “Sometimes people change after severe trauma to the head. Act completely different. Besides, you had no way of knowing that Meredith had a twin. Obviously, she didn’t want any of you to know about Patsy. And can you blame her?”

Wyatt took a long pull on his water bottle, hoping to rinse the acid taste from his mouth. “No. Except that now that Em’s run away, it might have been helpful.”

“Considering what Emily’s been saying about Meredith, she may be better off out of this house.” Rand held up the documents in his hand. “Austin’s report confirms her worst suspicions.” He snapped the pages with his thumb and forefinger.

As understanding dawned, Wyatt leaned against the wet bar and gave his head a kind of backward nod. “It’s confirmed. Patsy Portman is here.”

“Right.”

Lucy twisted her fingers together. “Then it’s true. That wacko is here. In the house. With us. Now.”

Wyatt arched a brow. “We knew there was that possibility.”

“Yes, I knew it up here,” Lucy gestured to her head, “but deep down, I couldn’t really believe it. I mean it’s so…so…I mean, how can one woman take another’s place and fool everyone for ten years?”

Tipping his chin to his shoulder, Rand looked over at Wyatt. “Which also begs the question, if she’s not Mom, then where is Mom?”

Wyatt chose not to mince words. “You think she may be dead?”

“Could be. Drake thinks so. Hell, practically the whole family does.”

“Murdered?”

“Probably. Patsy’s done it before.”

Lucy glanced between the two men. “Why would Patsy do that to her own sister?”

“Jealousy, most likely.” Wyatt was becoming more certain with every bit of information revealed. “Taking Meredith’s identity would also keep her from facing another murder rap.”

Lucy let her head flop back on her shoulders. “Okay, so my mother-in-law is a murderer.”

Wyatt held up a finger. “Actually, she’s your aunt-in-law.”

Lolling her head from Wyatt to Rand, she stared pointedly at her husband. “I don’t ever want to hear you complain about my family again.”

“So far, Mom’s murder is still conjecture.” Rand tipped back his water bottle and drank, then wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “Right now, we don’t have any hard evidence that she is indeed dead. Without a body, we can’t prove anything yet.”

“But until we do, we have to pretend that Patsy is Meredith, and that her bizarre behavior is normal?” Lucy wondered.

Wyatt shrugged. “Nothing we haven’t been doing for years now.”

Lucy looked back and forth between the men and shivered. “The only difference is that now we know for sure.”

Later that evening, dinner with his family sent memories cascading through Wyatt, making him feel more alive than he’d felt in years. There was nothing like the praise—and good-natured insults—of family. It was too bad that “Meredith” had pleaded headache and missed most of the festivities. When she’d made her excuses and stepped from the room, he’d exchanged meaningful glances with Rand and Lucy and wondered how many others at the table suspected that Meredith wasn’t actually…Meredith.

If she was missed, it didn’t dampen the festivities for long. There were toasts to the bride and groom, trips down memory lane, and a feeling of something so incredibly right. Again, Wyatt yearned for more than a professionally decorated and cleaned condo to come home to at night.

After the candles had burned low, some of the crowd retired, some headed for the hot tub, some for the pool tables and others for after-dinner drinks in the courtyard. Lucy and Rand walked with Wyatt to their neighboring suites and stepped inside Wyatt’s room for a moment.

“What now?” Wyatt asked.

Rand patted the pocket that held the papers that Austin’s courier had delivered that afternoon. “We need to get this information to Emily.” Rand glanced at Lucy. “I’ll be back in time for the wedding.”

“You’re leaving?” Wyatt asked.

“Have to. We can’t leave Emily twisting in the wind. The more we keep her in the loop, the safer she’ll be.”

Frustrated by feelings of helplessness, Wyatt nodded. “Right. How did you figure out where she went?”

“Austin’s P.I. found her a few hours ago.” Rand paused and looked into his brother’s eyes before he spoke. “She’s in Keyhole.”

Tiny hairs stood up on the back of Wyatt’s neck and he froze. Had he misunderstood? “Keyhole? Keyhole, Wyoming? You’re kidding!”

“I thought that place might ring a bell for you.” Rand narrowed his eyes, searching Wyatt’s face.

“What rings a bell? Why?” Lucy’s head swiveled back and forth between the two men as they talked over her head. “Why would some town named Keyhole ring a bell?”

“Emily’s hiding out in Keyhole?” Wyatt asked, ignoring Lucy. “Why Keyhole?”

“Don’t know. The P.I. didn’t talk to her. Keyhole’s not far from Nettle Creek, where Dad grew up, so I guess Emily maybe feels a little less homesick.” His eyes narrowed. “Isn’t Keyhole where Annie lives now?”

“Who’s Annie?” Lucy wondered.

Wyatt gave his throat a noisy clearing in hopes that he didn’t sound as screwed up as he felt. “Yeah. As far as I know.”

Lucy sighed. “Hello? Guys? Remember me? Who is Annie?”

“How long has it been since you two saw each other?” Rand asked his brother.

“Not since college.” Wyatt passed a hand over his forehead and rubbed at the familiar ache that settled in his brow every time he thought of the life Annie led without him. Just speaking about her marriage turned him into a melancholy mess. “She got married and had a couple of kids. Twin boys, I hear.”

“I’m gathering somebody named Annie has twin boys. Don’t feel like you owe me any explanation or anything. After all, I’m just standing here,” Lucy fumed.

“Wasn’t her husband killed in an accident of some kind a few years back?” Rand asked.

“Yeah. I thought you told me that.”

Rand shrugged. “Can’t remember.”

“Maybe it was Austin.” Unfortunately, Wyatt hadn’t learned of the accident that took her husband’s life until long after the funeral, and by then, his condolences seemed untimely. Misplaced. At least that was the excuse he used to explain away his fears of contacting Annie. “Anyway, as far as I know she hasn’t remarried.”

With a moan, Lucy buried her face in her hands. “I’m invisible.”

Rand laughed. “Lucy, honey, Annie was Wyatt’s first—” he arched a brow at Wyatt “—and only love.”

Lucy peeped between her fingers. “You were in love once?”

“You don’t need to sound so shocked.”

“Excuse me? Mr. I-Don’t-Need-Nobody-Nohow-Never was once in love? Oh, baby. This is juicy.” She hooted, then her eyes narrowed and she gently probed his cheekbones with her fingertips. “And, by the little flush in your cheeks, may I deduce that she still has your heart?”

Wyatt looked askance at Rand. “How do you put up with her meddling?”

Rand laughed. “With Lucy, it’s an art form. Her talent at digging up dirt is one of the main reasons I fell in love with her.”

“Aw, honey. You’re so sweet.” Lucy stepped into her husband’s arms and met his mouth for a solid kiss. Soon, happy moans were rumbling from their throats.

Wyatt rolled his eyes. “Don’t you two have a room of your own?” he groused. For crying in the night. Sometimes they could be so obnoxious. Not to mention thoughtless. It wasn’t like he had anyone of his own to turn to when they skipped off to their room to do whatever came naturally to newlyweds.

“Honey,” Lucy said as she nuzzled Rand’s neck, “why are you going to Keyhole? Don’t you think we should make Wyatt go? After all, he has more reasons to go than you do, don’t you think? Besides, I don’t want you to go. Stay with me. I’ll make it worth your while.”

“I can’t think straight with you kissing my ear that way,” Rand groaned.

“That’s it. Get out of here,” Wyatt ordered and, striding to the door, yanked it open.

With one smooth move, Rand lifted Lucy and carried her to the hall.

“Don’t worry, Wyatt,” Lucy called. “You can be back in time for Liza’s wedding. Bring a date back with you!”

Their laughter echoed down the hall and into their suite. And then it was silent.

Wyatt kicked off an insanely expensive pair of Italian leather shoes and, wiggling his toes, allowed his gaze to travel leisurely around his suite. Never—not even in his wildest dreams—would he ever have believed that he’d build a decent life for himself on this old planet. But he had.

Thanks to the fact that Joe had been a foster child himself and remembered how it had felt to be taken in and loved when the people who’d brought him into this world had been unable. The fact that Wyatt hadn’t been in Prosperino for nearly five years, then could sit down at the table and pick up where he left off as easily as if it had been five minutes, proved that family was about far more than blood. It was about shared history. About caring. Love.

As Wyatt leaned back into the pillows that were propped against the headboard, his thoughts moved to Annie.

Always to Annie.

Her family came from Keyhole. The same small town where his foster sister Emily had gone. Lord have mercy, what were the odds of that? Some astronomical number, he decided as he considered the bizarre coincidence.

Keyhole, Wyoming. The quaint little village came to life in his minds’ eye. It had been years since he’d been there. To visit Annie. To meet the family. To mess up the best thing that had ever happened to him.

His mind, like a runaway locomotive, churned and screamed with thoughts of Annie. He’d learned a long time ago that once he started thinking about her, he couldn’t stop. It made him miserable, left him sleepless. But there didn’t seem to be any cure. It was almost as if, after their first kiss, she’d become entwined with the ladder of his very DNA. Even after all these years, memories of her made his mouth go dry as the Mojave desert and his face feel the burn of his changing blood pressure. With a tortured groan, Wyatt shifted his position and covered his head with a pillow.

Fool. Fool. Fool. The downy feathers couldn’t seem to drown out the incessant refrain.