Charlotte Maclay - Montana Twins

“Come on,” Eric said. “You waltz into my life with some crazy story about a sister I never knew I had? Wouldn’t you have some doubts, too? A desperate woman looking to find a decent home for her baby can come up with a very convincing lie.”

She leveled him a look that would have made most men back off in a hurry. “I personally guarantee that if you don’t want to raise the girls for any reason at all, they will always have a good home—with me.”

The intensity of her words brought him up short. This woman was not fooling around. “You want to adopt the twins?”

“With all my heart.” A fine sheen of tears appeared in her eyes, but she didn’t let them spill over.

“Then why did you bother to track me down? I never would have known otherwise.”

“Because I promised I would.”

Montana Twins

Charlotte Maclay

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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Charlotte Maclay can’t resist a happy ending. That’s why she’s had such fun writing more than twenty titles for Harlequin American Romance, Duets and Love & Laughter, plus several Silhouette Romance books. Charlotte is particularly well-known for her volunteer efforts in her hometown of Torrance, California; her philosophy is that you should make a difference in your community. She and her husband have two married daughters and four grandchildren, whom they are occasionally allowed to baby-sit. She loves to hear from readers and can be reached at P.O. Box 505, Torrance, CA 90508.

HARLEQUIN AMERICAN ROMANCE

474—THE VILLAIN’S LADY

488—A GHOSTLY AFFAIR

503—ELUSIVE TREASURE

532—MICHAEL’S MAGIC

537—THE KIDNAPPED BRIDE

566—HOW TO MARRY A MILLIONAIRE

585—THE COWBOY & THE BELLY DANCER

620—THE BEWITCHING BACHELOR

643—WANTED: A DAD TO BRAG ABOUT

657—THE LITTLEST ANGEL

684—STEALING SAMANTHA

709—CATCHING A DADDY

728—A LITTLE BIT PREGNANT

743—THE HOG-TIED GROOM

766—DADDY’S LITTLE COWGIRL

788—DEPUTY DADDY

806—A DADDY FOR BECKY

821—THE RIGHT COWBOY’S BED*

825—IN A COWBOY’S EMBRACE*

886—BOLD AND BRAVE-HEARTED**

890—WITH VALOR AND DEVOTION**

894—BETWEEN HONOR AND DUTY**

915—WITH COURAGE AND COMMITMENT**

929—AT THE RANCHER’S BIDDING

943—COURTSHIP, MONTANA STYLE

980—MONTANA DADDY

984—MONTANA TWINS

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

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

“I’m going to be a father.”

Still stunned by the news, Sheriff Eric Oakes sat down heavily in the swivel chair behind his desk, trying to figure out how it had happened. Or if it could possibly be true.

His brother Rory, who had just come into the office, looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. “You’re kidding.”

“Twins. Girls.”

“Hey, I didn’t even know you were seeing anyone. How come you’re keeping secrets from—”

“No, it’s not like that. It’s like—” He was stammering almost as much as the woman who’d called him with the news a few minutes ago. “They’re my sister’s kids.” Three months old, the woman had said.

Rory frowned, and a hank of his dark hair slid across his forehead. In a futile gesture, he shoved it back into place. “Have you been nipping at that bottle you keep in your bottom desk drawer? You don’t have a sister. Two brothers, me and Walker. Unless ol’ Sharpy has had a sex change I don’t know about—”

“No, that’s not it.” Eric pushed back from his desk, stood and paced across the room to look out the window onto the town of Grass Valley, Montana, located not far from the Canadian border.

Small was the only way to describe the town.

Rory’s veterinary clinic was down a side road a block away, across from Doc Justine’s medical clinic where Rory’s bride, Kristi, worked as a nurse practitioner, helping her grandmother, the long-time town doctor.

On the main street there was a garage with rusty old heaps parked around it, a drugstore that sold more ice cream than prescriptions, and a general store. The saloon with a tattered banner that announced “Good Eats” was the only place that ever drew a crowd, except for the nearby church.

Crime wasn’t a big issue in the community. A few Saturday-night drunks to fill his two jail cells now and then. Traffic accidents on the highway that called for him to respond. Occasional reports of cattle rustling or adolescent vandalism. A safe place to live.

And to raise kids, he thought as a lump formed in his throat. He’d always wanted children. A family of his own.

He turned back to his brother. “Some woman called a couple of minutes ago, a Laura somebody from Helena. She says my mother had another baby after she abandoned me.” It was no big deal to tell Rory he’d been dumped by his mom. Rory’s mother had done the same thing to him. That’s how they’d both ended up at the Double O Ranch as foster kids to Oliver Oakes, who’d eventually adopted them and another kid, their brother, Walker—nicknamed Sharpy because he’d once shot himself in the leg. Walker was running the ranch nowadays.

“According to this woman, my sister’s name was Amy Thorne, and she had twins a couple of months ago. Then she died.” Still incredulous about the phone call, he shook his head. “She wanted me to have the babies. Be their dad. Apparently I’m their only living relative.”

“Somebody’s putting you on.”

“I don’t know. This Laura person sounded pretty legit.” Except she’d been nervous, stuttering and stammering as she tried to tell her story.

“No, it’s got to be some kind of scam. Did she ask for money? Child support?” Rory hooked his hip over the corner of Eric’s desk and crossed his arms. His Native American heritage sometimes gave him a brooding look, but since discovering that he had a son and his recent marriage to the boy’s mother, Kristi Kerrigan, Rory had been all smiles. Until now.

“The whole phone call kind of caught me off guard,” Eric said. He was still shaken, half disbelieving the news yet wanting it to be true. “But no, she didn’t say anything about money.” Not that he could remember, at any rate. “She’s going to bring the twins up here tomorrow.”

“And just hand them off to you?”

“I don’t know. She said something about interviewing me.” Which didn’t make a whole lot of sense. Either he was the twins’ uncle or he wasn’t. And if he wasn’t, that woman wouldn’t have bothered to call and make him identify himself by his birth name, Eric Johnson. A name he hadn’t used since he was fifteen and Oliver Oakes adopted him. Eric had celebrated his thirty-second birthday last fall out at the ranch. Walker’s wife, Lizzie, had baked the most lopsided cake he’d ever seen—not that he or anyone else had cared. Devil’s food with chocolate frosting was hard to beat whatever the shape.