Lisa Bingham - Twins Times Two!

“Hold on a second,” Cara said into the phone. Then she looked at the twins and pointed a finger at the floor. “Down. Right now.” Cara purposely used the no-nonsense tone that preceded a session of time-out, with the twins isolated in two different rooms. As usual, the thought of being separated—even for two minutes—was enough to dissuade the twins from disturbing the cake. Reluctantly Heidi stepped aside so that Cara could scoop Zoe from the counter and shoo her in the direction of the playroom.

Finally she was able to devote her attention to Polly. “Hi, Polly. What’s up?”

Cara had already finished the payroll checks and stacked them neatly on the counter in preparation for delivering them to the office the following morning, so she doubted the call had anything to do with her duties as the Mom Squad’s CPA.

“Melba Wilson’s daughter just called, and Melba has been taken to the hospital with an apparent appendicitis attack. They’re rushing her into surgery now.”

“My gosh, will she be okay?”

“The surgery is fairly routine, but naturally everyone’s a little worried.”

“We should send someone to be with her daughter.”

“I’ve already taken care of that. I’ve got Sharon on her way to the hospital now. She’ll keep us posted throughout the evening and see about ordering some flowers from the hospital gift shop. Our immediate problem lies in the fact that Melba had a tending job tonight. I guess she was more concerned about canceling than she was about being hospitalized. We’re stretched awfully thin. I’d go myself, but I have two job interviews to conduct later, and I haven’t been able to contact the applicants. I wondered if you’d be available. You could drop the twins off at the office. They can entertain themselves in the day care room here while I do the interviews, then I’ll bring them back to your place and watch them until you get back.”

Accustomed to filling in for such emergencies, Cara pulled a pad of paper closer. “Give me the address and the time I need to be there.”

Polly’s sigh of relief was audible. As Cara copied the information, she knew that getting to the address located on the eastern bench would be tight, but if she took a few of the back roads…

Within fifteen minutes Cara was on her way. The twins were strapped into their car seats, a bag filled with extra training pants and snacks nestled on the floor beside them. Polly was waiting for her in the parking lot of the Mom Squad offices, and it took only another few minutes to transfer the twins into her care—most of that time spent in the twins insisting on offering her numerous farewell hugs and kisses.

As she drove away and watched the girls wave to her until she turned the corner, she felt an all-too-familiar lump of emotion wedge at the base of her throat.

Zoe and Heidi had brought her so much joy—so much joy in the midst of tragedy. When Cara’s brother and sister-in-law had been killed in an auto accident a year ago, Cara had received guardianship of the fraternal twins. She’d become a mother overnight, not an easy task considering the confusion and grief that all of them had suffered after the accident. But they were doing better now. Life had begun to develop a steady routine, and the anguish wasn’t quite so strong, coming in sharp jabs from time to time rather than the ever-present waves.

Cara had the children to thank for that. Little Heidi, with her long blond hair and indigo eyes, was the ringleader of the pair. She could dream up more ways to get into trouble than Cara could anticipate. Zoe, on the other hand, was quiet, eager to please and a quick learner—facts that often escalated Heidi’s plans for adventure. But with her carrot-colored curls and cornflower-blue eyes, she often affected an expression of angelic innocence that belied her mischievous nature.

Cara sighed, knowing that the twins had brought her more happiness than she had ever thought possible. She’d already begun formal proceedings to adopt the children—the idea having been suggested in her brother’s will. Yet, if anyone had asked her only a year before if she would ever consider motherhood, she probably would have told them no. With a nasty divorce behind her, she’d been so sure she would spend the rest of her life alone. Funny the way fate could shuffle the deck and deal a hand a person had never anticipated.

Retrieving the paper with the address from her bag, Cara checked the numbers against those on the nearest street sign. She was getting close.

Making a right-hand turn, she resisted the impulse to gawk at the houses on either side of the winding road. She had entered the newer building section high on the Wasatch Bench, located to the east of Salt Lake City proper, an area reserved for homes the size of hotels. The area all but screamed of wealth and privilege.

According to Polly, their client was a lawyer. And judging by the real estate surrounding his home, he was a wildly successful one at that. Cara doubted that her yearly earnings could even pay for a building lot in the area.

In the gathering dusk, she caught a glimpse of a pair of wrought-iron gates tipped with brass. The numbers corresponded to those she’d scrawled on her planner.

“Bingo,” she whispered under her breath, rolling to a stop in front of the security monitor and pressing the call button. Within seconds her summons was answered by a baritone, “Yes?”

“Hello, Mr.—” she glanced at her paper “—Mr. Gifford. I’m Cara Wells from the Mom Squad. I believe you were notified that I would be coming to watch your children tonight rather than Melba Wilson.”

There was a soft, nearly imperceptible whirring sound from behind a small glass screen, and Cara resisted the urge to mug for the camera that had probably been focused on her. Ahh, the drawbacks of wealth. Constant security and the constant threat of risk. Cara would take concerned neighbors, dead bolts and peepholes on her doors over high-tech electronic surveillance equipment any day.

“Will you hold your ID up to the camera please.”

Evidently Mr. Gifford was even more paranoid than most, she thought as she retrieved her wallet from her purse and held it up to the lens of the camera. She didn’t think many would-be thieves or kidnappers would be riding around town in such a conspicuous van. Banking on the fact that a company car would help promote some free advertising, the Mom Squad had a small fleet of pink and blue vans complete with huge plastic booties attached to the roofs.

“Drive on in.”

With no more fanfare than that the gates slid open, allowing Cara to roll onto a brick driveway laid in a herringbone pattern.

“Pretty ritzy,” Cara murmured to herself. She grew even more impressed when the driveway began winding through stands of huge evergreens and oaks—the sort of transplanted foliage that had probably been fully grown and transplanted onto the lot within the last few years. Through the trees she caught a glimpse of emerald-green lawns, a pond complete with ducks and swans and…

Was that a deer? Was the place actually home to deer, or had they come down from the mountain and jumped the fence?

“I hope they had ID with them,” she muttered under her breath, then laughed. No, the animals had to have been transplanted onto the grounds, as well. From the encounter she’d had at the gate, she doubted Ross Gifford would ever allow anything so untidy as unwanted deer—especially if the landscaping was any indication. As she continued to wind her way up the hill, she didn’t see a stray leaf, a straggly bush or a withered flower. Everything was theme-park perfect and slightly…unreal.

“Big money,” she murmured to herself. “Big, big money.”

No wonder he was so careful about checking her out. That much money had to make a person paranoid, especially with young children around. Nevertheless, she couldn’t help wondering why Ross didn’t have a full-time nanny and a fleet of governesses. Wasn’t that what wealthy people did with their children?