Twins Under His Tree (2 page)

“Is she all right?” Lily asked. “Please tell me she's all right.”

A light infant cry came from the area where Francesca was standing. It was very soft, but it
was
a cry.

“She's a beauty,” Jared told her. “We might have a few minutes now. I want to get her sister out, as quickly as I can.”

“I don't think I have a few minutes,” Lily gasped. “It's starting again.” She practically sat up with the strength and pain of the contraction.

“Use it,” Mitch said. “Go with it.”

“Just one more push,” Emily encouraged her. “She's your youngest. You're going to have to coax her a little harder.”

Mitch realized Lily wasn't focusing on him anymore. She was breathing when she had to, breathing any way she could. She needed a different type of support, physical as well as emotional. Knowing exactly what he had
to do, Mitch stood, went to the head of the birthing table and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. He warned himself he was only a substitute for Troy. But he didn't feel like a substitute. His arms around Lily, he knew he was doing this for himself as well as his friend.

Tears swept down her cheeks. Her bangs were plastered to her forehead. She pushed her shoulder-length hair away from her face and stared straight ahead.

As her contraction built, her body curved into it, curved around it. Mitch held her as she delivered a second little girl.

Jared announced, “And here's princess number two.”

Again he passed the infant to Francesca who worked at clearing her airway, cleaning her eyes, checking her lungs, hooking her up to the ventilator to help her breathe. When Mitch saw that, a lump rose in his throat.

“I've got them,” Francesca reassured Lily. “I'll be around to give you a report as soon as I can.” Then she pushed the babies away, out another door before Lily even glimpsed them.

Reluctantly, Mitch released Lily as she collapsed onto the bed, murmuring, “Maybe I should have quit work sooner and stayed in bed. It's often recommended with twins. But I rested the past two weeks. I kept my feet up as much as I could.”

Mitch knew he had to keep Lily calm after her ordeal. “You did everything you thought was best. That's all you could do.”

Lily surprised him when she caught his hand again and held it tight. “Troy should have been here. He should
have seen his girls born. He should have helped me name them. He should have…he should have…”

“He should have never died,” Mitch filled in.

Lily bowed her head and finally let the tears fall unchecked. Mitch did the only thing he could—he held her in his arms until she simply couldn't cry anymore.

 

Lily had been settled in her hospital room for at least two hours and was growing anxious. Why hadn't Francesca come yet? Wouldn't they have told her if something had happened to either of the babies?

Her gaze landed on Mitch, who was standing at the window. He was as calm as she was agitated. Where did that calm come from after what he'd been through? He'd been presented a Combat Medical Badge, awarded a Silver Star and a Purple Heart, though he never spoke of them. All Troy had told her was that Mitch had been involved in an IED explosion.

“How do you do it?” she asked, following the train of thoughts in her head.

Minus his jacket and tie, his tuxedo shirt was rumpled. He turned to look at her. “Do what?”

“Stay calm under any circumstances.”

He shot her a wry half smile. “It's a learned technique.”

Interested in anything that would keep her mind off what was going on down the hall, she asked, “Like meditation?”

Even though she'd worked with Mitch for more than two and a half years, she didn't know much about him. Just the little Troy had told her. She knew he was forty-five, had been born in Sagebrush—the small town where they both lived about fifteen minutes outside
Lubbock—but he had no family there. He'd been deployed to Iraq, injured and changed specialties—from trauma surgery to endocrinology—because he'd lost the fine motor coordination in his hand that he needed to perform surgery. But that was about the extent of her knowledge of his background.

“I learned several techniques,” he replied, running his hand through his jet-black hair. “Meditation was one. Guided imagery was another.”

Her gaze went to his hand and the ragged scars there. She wanted to ask if he'd learned the techniques when he'd been hurt. Had they been his method of recovering? But that was such personal territory. If he didn't mention Iraq himself, she knew better than to jump into it.

In spite of herself, she still remembered gazing into his eyes rather than looking at his nose while he'd coached her. Every time since the day she'd told him she was having twins, she'd felt such an intense…

She wasn't sure what it was she felt. Mitch knew things. He'd
felt
things. She could just instinctively sense that. The compassion he showed her seemed personal, but maybe he was that way with everyone.

“You know, your friends wanted to stay,” he said.

Yes, they did. But they all had children and husbands and practices to see to. “I told them there was nothing they could do here. I'm going to call them as soon as we find out about the babies. Oh, Mitch, what's taking so long?”

Leaving his pensive position at the window, he crossed to her bed. He was so tall…confident…strong.

She remembered being held in his arms—in the exam room at the practice, on the dais, in the delivery room. His cologne had wrapped around her as he'd given her
his strength. That's why she'd needed him with her through the delivery—because he was so strong. Now when she looked at him she could hardly swallow.

With one push of his booted foot, the comfortable chair by the nightstand now sat beside her bed. He sank down into the chair. It was well after 1:00 a.m. and she knew he had to be tired after a full day of work. She should tell him to go home, too. But he seemed willing to see her through this and she felt she needed him here.

Though she realized her body was ready for a good long rest, she couldn't relax. Adrenaline was still rushing through her because she was so concerned about her twins.

In the labor room, Mitch had taken her hand. Now he didn't.

Why should it matter?
she wondered. She quickly decided it didn't. After all, she was still in love with Troy. At times, she thought she heard him in the next room. Other times, she expected his booming voice to announce that he was home. She fought back sudden emotion.

Mitch's deep, even voice reassured her. “I have a feeling Francesca will only come to you after the babies are stabilized…after she can tell you something for certain.”

“You're so honest,” Lily blurted out. “I wanted you to say she probably had another emergency and that's why it was taking her so long.”

“Do you believe that?”

His expression wasn't stern. His lean cheeks and high cheekbones just made him appear that way sometimes.
As his black brows drew together just a little, he looked expectant…as if he knew she couldn't lie to herself.

“It's possible,” she murmured.

“Yes, it's possible,” he agreed.

“Talk to me about something,” she pleaded. “Anything.”

She knew she might be asking for a lot. Mitch communicated, but only when he had something to say. Chit-chat didn't seem to be in his nature. But now she would be glad for anything her mind could latch on to.

“When is Raina McGraw's baby due?”

Lily smiled, picturing her friend with her rounding stomach. “June fifth. Talk about having a lot on your plate.”

“I understand Shep adopted three children before she married him.”

“They're still in the process with Manuel, their two-and-a-half-year-old. Shep had started adoption proceedings, but then he and Raina married. It was almost like starting over. Their housekeeper, Eva, is wonderful, but Raina could be running from morning to night once the baby's born. I think she's going to take a leave from her practice.”

“Have you decided yet how long you're going to stay out?”

“I'll make up my mind soon. Everything about my life is in flux right now.”

“You don't have to decide right away. You might have to consider getting help with the twins.”

“No, I won't need it. My roommate Angie—Gina's sister—says she'll help me. She's a nurse, away right now on the disaster relief team. But she should be back
soon. Besides, there are lots of moms who take care of two babies.”

“Not necessarily at the same time.” His tone held a warning note that maybe she was being a little too Pollyanna-ish.

“I can handle it, Mitch. You'll see.”

She was contemplating the idea of breast-feeding both babies when the door pushed open and Francesca walked in. She seemed surprised to see Mitch there, but didn't comment.

Lily hadn't known Francesca very long. But one evening, the women who'd lived in the Victorian house on a quiet street in Sagebrush had gathered there and just enjoyed a ladies' night of chatting and sharing backgrounds. All of them were connected in so many ways—through their professions, friendships or family ties.

Lily had felt so alone after Troy had died, but that night all of the women had made her feel as if she had a support network.

“Tell me,” Lily said to Francesca.

“Your older daughter weighs four point two pounds, is seventeen inches long, and needs a little time to put on weight. We're giving her CPAP treatment. She's breathing on her own and is definitely a crier when she's unhappy.”

The continuous positive airway pressure would help the infant breathe but not breathe for her. Lily's heart swelled with love for this tiny baby although she hadn't even laid eyes on her yet. “And my youngest?” Lily's voice shook a little bit when she asked.

“She weighs four pounds, is sixteen and a half inches and had trouble breathing.” Francesca immediately
held up both hands. “Now, don't panic. We have her stabilized. She's on a ventilator for now—”

“Oh my God!” Lily's chest felt so tight she could hardly breathe.

“I mean it, Lily. Don't panic. We'll wean her off it. Her lungs need to develop and, of course, she needs to gain weight, too, before she can go home.”

“When can I see them?”

Francesca sighed. “I shouldn't allow it, but I know you're not going to rest or get any sleep until I let you visit them.”

Lily nodded. She was happy, afraid and plain exhausted. But she had to see them.

“All right. I'll find a wheelchair. But you can only have a few minutes with them, and then I need to tuck you in. Childbirth is natural, but it's traumatic, too, and you need time to recover.”

“I know,” Lily said. “When do you think I'll be discharged?”

“You'll have to ask Jared that, but my guess is you'll be here until Sunday morning.”

At least she'd be here so she could visit her babies.
Her babies
. Everything about their birth came rushing back, especially Mitch's presence and support. “Can Mitch come, too?”

Francesca hesitated and looked from one of them to the other. “This is just for a few minutes. You both have to wear masks and sterile gowns. I'll be right back.”

Mitch looked troubled. “Are you sure you want me there, Lily?”

“You helped me bring them into the world. Of course, I want you there.”

Maybe it was because of the letter Troy had left for
her. In it, he'd told her he'd asked Mitch to look after her if anything happened to him. He'd trusted Mitch, and that made it easy for her to trust him, too. He'd certainly come through for her tonight.

 

Ten minutes later, Lily and Mitch were in the NIC unit, staring at her two precious little girls. The babies absolutely snatched Lily's breath away.

Mitch stood behind her, his hand on her shoulder. “Have you considered names?”

“Now that I see them, I can name them.” She pointed to her firstborn, saying lightly, “Sophie, I'd like you to meet Mitch. He helped me bring you into this world.”

Her baby opened her eyes, seemed to gaze at them both for a few seconds before she closed them again.

Lily's heart overflowed with love as her focus turned to her youngest, who needed help to breathe.

Mitch's fingers tightened on Lily's shoulder and she was so grateful for his quiet strength, his stalwart caring.

“And this tiny angel is—” Lily's voice caught. Finally she managed to say, “Her name is Grace.”

Mitch crouched down beside Lily so he could see her children from her vantage point. The slant of his jaw almost grazed her cheek as he reassured her, “They're going to gain weight and strength each day.”

When Mitch turned to her instead of the twins, Lily's heart beat faster. “Thank you,” she said simply.

“You're welcome,” Mitch returned with a crooked smile. Just for tonight she'd let Mitch Cortega be her rock. Just for tonight, she'd depend on him.

Then she'd stand on her own two feet and raise her babies alone.

M
itch stood in Lily's hospital room on Sunday afternoon. She was ready to go home and be a mom, but her babies couldn't go home with her. At least, not for a few weeks, and only then if no further problems developed. She didn't want to leave them, but she had no choice. She also couldn't drive herself home. Gina was in Houston again. Angie was still away, helping flood victims. And Raina, six months pregnant with a new husband and three boys to think about, had enough on her plate.

So Mitch had offered to drive Lily home, and she'd accepted. In fact, the thought of being with him again had made her feel…less worried. But now that he was standing in the room, dressed in jeans and a dark-green V-neck sweater, her pulse was speeding faster. She told herself she was just excited about leaving the hospital.

However, she snuck another peek at him and felt her stomach flutter.

Maybe she should have just paid taxi fare from Lubbock to Sagebrush instead of accepting his assistance so readily.

He seemed to read some of her thoughts. “I know you want to be independent, Lily, but I'm only giving you a ride home. You'll be driving again soon.”

She did have to put this in perspective. “I just never expected to be going home without my babies and without—” She abruptly stopped.

“And without Troy,” he filled in, not afraid to say it.

Blinking very fast she zipped the overnight case that Raina had dropped off for her. “I'm ready to get out of here and finish decorating the nursery. Everything needs to be perfect when my girls come home.”

Mitch came up behind her, gently took her by the shoulders and turned her around. “You don't have to hide what you're feeling.”

“I have to get
over
what I'm feeling, Mitch. I have two babies to take care of, to support. I can't think about Troy not being here and do what I have to do.”

“You can't deny it, either. That will only bring you more heartache in the end.”

Gazing into his deep brown eyes, she felt that unsettled sensation in the pit of her stomach again.

“I'm ready to go,” she said firmly. She'd cry at night when she was too tired to do anything else. In the meantime, she was going to put a life together for her children.

Mitch dropped his hands from her shoulders and
picked up her overnight case. “Then let's get you home.”

Their fifteen-minute drive from Lubbock to the small Texas town of Sagebrush was quiet for the most part. Mitch didn't seem to feel the need to talk and stared straight ahead as he drove. She had too many thoughts buzzing through her mind to want to be involved in conversation—including her unsettling awareness of the black-haired, broad-shouldered, protective man sitting beside her. Before her labor, hadn't she looked at Mitch as the person he was? Had she just seen him merely as a colleague? Simply a friend of Troy's? A person on the outskirts of her life but not really
in
her life?

He pulled into the driveway in front of the detached garage at the large blue Victorian-style house with yellow shutters, then turned to her with questions in his eyes, voicing one of them. “Who's going to be staying with you?”

“No one's staying with me.”

Silence fell over the SUV as wind buffeted it.

“Isn't Angie back yet?” Mitch asked.

“No. When she's called away on the disaster relief team, there's no knowing how long she'll be gone.”

“What about Raina?”

“I can't expect her to come over here and sit with me with all her responsibilities. Besides, I don't need a babysitter.”

“As soon as you walk into that house, you're going to be surprised by how tired you feel. You can't stay here alone tonight.”

Lily suddenly felt panicked without knowing exactly why. “What are you suggesting?”

“I'm not suggesting anything. I'm going to give you
two options. One, I can take you home with me and you can stay there for the night.”

She was shaking her head already.

“Or, two, I can sleep on your couch.”

She was still shaking her head.

“Is your refrigerator stocked?”

“I don't know.”

“Do you feel like cooking supper?”

Though she didn't want to admit it, she did feel really tired. “I can make myself an egg.”

“I seem to remember Jared ordering you to go home and rest today, for what's left of it, and turn in early tonight.”

“He's just being cautious.”

Mitch unbuckled his seat belt and shifted behind the wheel to face her. “I know as doctors we make the worst patients, but you've got to be sensible. When those babies come home in a few weeks, you have to be ready
physically
as well as emotionally. So, at least for today, accept help without argument.”

Was
she being unreasonable?
Was
she trying to be too strong? Why was that? Because she didn't want anyone helping her…or she suddenly didn't want
Mitch
helping her? The thought of him sleeping on her couch tonight made her stomach do something more than flutter. She felt as if she'd gone over the top of a Ferris wheel.

But she certainly wasn't going to Mitch's place. The gossips in Sagebrush would have a field day.

“Let's go inside and you can curl up on the sofa,” he suggested. “I'll get you something to drink and we'll go from there.”

“Don't you have other things to do today?”

“Repairing winter's damage to the patio? Sweeping out my garage?” He gave her one of his rare smiles.

Ever since Mitch had started with the practice, she'd noticed the long hours he worked, longer than any of the other physicians. He even scheduled consultations on Saturdays. He had rarely taken off work in the time she'd known him. Didn't he have a life outside of the fertility lab? Did he have friends other than the service buddies Troy had once mentioned? Mitch was an enigma, a puzzle she couldn't solve—one she shouldn't be interested in at all.

She nibbled on her lower lip for a couple of seconds and then asked, “Do you know how to cook?”

When he chuckled, she liked the sound of it. “I do. My mother taught me the basics,” he said with fond remembrance. “I do all right.”

The air in his SUV seemed stifling. She was relieved they were separated in the bucket seats because being physically close to Mitch now seemed…dangerous.

She asked in a low voice, “Why are you doing this, Mitch?”

“I made a promise to Troy. I keep my promises.”

That's what she thought. This was duty for Mitch. He was a man who knew duty and honor well.

She let out a long breath. “All right, you can sleep on my couch. But just tonight. That's it. Tomorrow I'm on my own again.”

“Deal,” he agreed.

Even though he said it, she saw a considering flicker in his eyes. How long would his promise to Troy hold?

Minutes later they were escaping the blustery weather outside and walking into the old house that Lily now thought of as home. Last September she'd moved out
of the apartment she'd shared with Troy because the memories there had been too painful.

She breathed in the scent of cinnamon emanating from the potpourri dish beside the Tiffany lamp in the foyer. Angie had filled it before Christmas. Her housemate had understood how difficult the holidays would be for Lily and had included her in her family's celebrations. So had Gina and, of course, Raina. They'd kept Lily too busy to think if not feel. At night, alone in her room, she'd faced her loss and spoken to her unborn babies about their dad and about what their first Christmas the following year might bring. She had to look toward the future.

“Where would you like your overnight case?” Mitch asked, stepping in behind her.

“Upstairs on my bed would be great.”

“The steps won't be a problem?”

“Not at all. But I'll only do them once today.”

“Which room is yours?”

A jolt of reality hit when she realized Mitch would be standing in her bedroom in a few minutes. He'd see the baby catalogs and magazines splayed across the chest at the foot of the bed, as well as the photo of Troy on her dresser. What else would he notice?

And why was the idea of Mitch standing in her bedroom so unnerving?

“What's wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing. My bedroom's the second one on the right. It's the one with the yellow rose wallpaper.”

“Got it,” he said with the flash of a smile that made her breath hitch a little.

Confused, she decided she was just tired from the trip
home and worried about her babies. She wasn't reacting to Mitch as a man. She absolutely wasn't.

When Mitch returned downstairs, she was pulling greens and carrots from the refrigerator.

He came up beside her and took them out of her hands. “Stop. Today you're not doing a thing. Wouldn't you be more comfortable in the living room in an easy chair?”

He was a doctor, too. He knew what her body had been through, though she was trying to deny it.

“Don't you have a good book you want to read?” he teased.

She supposed humor was better than anything else. Maybe it would make this jumpy feeling she had when she was around him go away. “I'm sure I can find something to read.”

When she took a last glance around, he said, “Relax and trust me.”

Trust him. That was the tall and short of it. She did. And trusting him formed a bond that she just didn't want right now. She'd trusted Troy because he was her husband. But now he was gone, and she shouldn't be able to simply turn around and trust another man so easily.

Should she?

“What's going on in your head?” Mitch asked with gentle persuasion.

Nothing he'd want to know about. Her doubts and questions and issues were all hers. None of it had anything to do with him. “I'm just…wired and tired at the same time.”

He set the greens and carrots on the counter. Then he nudged her around and walked her toward the living
room. He was a good six inches taller than she was and she felt petite beside him.

The heat of his palm on her shoulder seeped through her knit top. She should have worn a sweater. This old house could be drafty. If she'd worn a sweater, she wouldn't feel the warmth of his hand at all…or remember him holding hers as Sophie was born.

He released her as they reached the sofa. Then he stood there and waited and she realized he wanted her to sit. He definitely was a commanding male. Why would that change simply because he was trying to be her friend? Men in the military had a particular bearing, a straightness of their backs, a tautness of their shoulders, that made them seem
more
than ordinary men. Not that anything about Mitch today seemed military. His jeans, sweater and even his leather boots looked comfortable. She couldn't remember ever seeing him dressed so casually before.

She sank down onto the sofa.

“Put your legs up,” he ordered.

She didn't usually take orders well. “I'll be bored,” she muttered.

While he pulled the afghan from the back of the sofa and spread it over her, he asked, “Don't you knit or something?”

“Crochet,” she corrected automatically, then pointed to the tapestry bag beside the easy chair. She knew if she made a move to get it, he wouldn't let her.

When he stooped to pick up the bag, she noticed the play of his shoulder muscles, the length of his upper torso, his slim hips. A tingle that she relegated to post-birth pangs rippled through her belly. Looking away, she pulled the afghan up higher.

He brought the bag to her and settled it in her lap. “What are you making?”

After opening the Velcro closure, she extracted a pink sweater that sported one sleeve. “I didn't know whether to make these both pink or not. You know, stereotypes and all. But then I thought, two baby girls. What could be cuter than matching pink sweaters?”

He laughed. “I'm sure Sophie and Grace will agree.”

She turned the sweater over in her hands and then admitted, “I was an only child. I wanted a sister desperately. Sophie and Grace will always have each other.” She looked up at him again. “Do you have brothers or sisters?” She really didn't know anything about Mitch's background or his childhood.

“Nope. No brothers or sisters.”

“Troy and his sister Ellie were close,” Lily said in a low voice.

“He talked about her often,” Mitch responded, in the way he had ever since Troy had been killed. She was grateful he made it all right for her to speak about her husband and anything connected to him.

“She's in a tough situation right now,” Lily said to Mitch. “She had a small store where she sold her own line of baby clothes. But her area of Oklahoma was hard hit by the economic downturn and she had to close the store.”

“What's she doing now?”

“She's trying to take her business to the internet.”

“Is she coming for a visit?”

“Ellie and Troy's mom, Darlene, both want to visit after the babies come home.” She'd always gotten along well with Ellie and Darlene…with all of Troy's family.
She knew he'd moved to Texas because the construction market had been thriving around Lubbock, unlike Oklahoma. She'd often wished his family wasn't so far away.

An odd expression crossed Mitch's face, one she couldn't decipher. He said, “You'll have a lot of people to help with the babies. That's just what you need.”

“
Is
that what I need, Mitch? I'm their mom. I want to take care of them myself.”

“Sure you do. But twins are a lot of work. There was a kid in my neighborhood when I was growing up. His mother had twins. She was always run ragged. And when you go back to work, you're definitely going to need child care.”

“I have to go back,” she said. “Insurance money and savings will only go so far.”