Fortune's Twins Read online

  Later that day, the Nash customer showed up. He was a gruff and unpleasant sort, and he wasn’t pleased that Eli wasn’t there personally to give him the car. He spent a ridiculous amount of time going over the car, then insisted on a test drive.

  Gwen thought that was reasonable. She would never buy a car without driving it. So she let him have the keys.

  He was gone almost half an hour, and when he came back, he didn’t want to pay the full price he’d agreed to.

  “There’s a scratch on one of the whitewalls,” he complained. “And I told Eli I didn’t want that rear reflector.”

  “It’s illegal, not to mention unsafe, to drive the car without one,” Gwen explained, though she was sure Eli had already done so.

  The man grumbled some more, but finally handed over a check for the agreed-upon amount. But it was drawn on his personal account, rather than the cashier’s check Eli had specified.

  “My husband specifically said it had to be a cashier’s check,” she told him.

  “Are you saying you think my check’s no good?”

  “I’m not saying anything except that I want to follow my husband’s instructions.”

  “Well, you can take this check, little lady, or I’m walking away from the deal. I know a guy up in Seattle has a better Nash than this for a lot less money.”

  Gwen started to tell the man to go for it. She knew he was blowing smoke. But what if she was wrong? She would blow Eli’s deal, and he might really need that money. So she caved in. If anything went wrong with the check, she would take responsibility for it.

  Wracked with guilt, she called Eli on his cell phone and told him what she’d done.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Eli said. “I’d have probably done the same thing. So how are you feeling?”

  “Fine, but I miss you.”

  “I miss you, too,” he said, his voice husky. “I’m thinking of catching the red-eye. If I do, I’ll be home before you wake up tomorrow.”

  Gwen thought about waking up in Eli’s arms and shivered with anticipated pleasure. “That would be really nice.”

  That evening, some of her friends surprised her with a baby shower. They just showed up en masse on her front porch, so she didn’t have to go out, which was nice.

  “I know you can buy anything you need,” said Sylvia, who had organized the event. “But we had to do something. I mean, twins! We’ve never had twin babies in Jester.”

  “It has nothing whatever to do with the fact that you’re special and we love you,” Amanda added.

  “Come on, now, open your gifts,” said Olivia. “Mine first.”

  The presents they gave her were thoughtful and one-of-a-kind—or in some cases, two-of-a-kind. Finn Hollis, who liked to whittle, had carved mobiles for her to hang over the cribs. Stella had crocheted two miniature afghan blankets. Oggie had gotten some of the students at the school to collaborate on an illustrated children’s book.

  “You guys are the best friends anyone could hope for,” Gwen said with tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry Eli isn’t here to share in this.”

  “We didn’t realize he was going out of town,” said Wyla, who had somehow wangled an invitation. And, to her credit, she’d given Gwen an adorable ceramic switchplate for the nursery light switch. “Where’d he go?”

  “Las Vegas,” Gwen said.

  “What’s he doing there?” Wyla persisted.

  It was embarrassing for Gwen to admit she had no idea. Shelly came to the rescue by deftly changing the subject, but Gwen realized it was abnormal for a husband to be so secretive about his business travel. She could tell her friends thought it odd she’d been left in the dark.

  But it was like he said, she reasoned later that night as she tried to sleep. He’d never been accountable to anyone but himself. Trust would come slowly. But it would come, she was sure of it. Meanwhile, she had better stop being so suspicious. Nothing could under-cut a relationship like unfounded suspicion.

  When she awoke the next day, the first thing she saw were two enormous white teddy bears sitting at the foot of the bed. She thought for a moment she was dreaming about the North Pole, until she saw Eli grinning at her.

  “I saw them at the airport and I couldn’t resist,” he said before pulling her into his arms for a good-morning kiss.

  Apparently there were several things he couldn’t resist. Some he’d brought home with him—clothes and toys and games for the girls that they wouldn’t be ready to play with for years. Some were delivered by FedEx and UPS—a swing set, tricycles, boxed sets of Disney DVDs.

  “Eli, we don’t even have a DVD player.”

  “Oh, yes, we do.” That was the next delivery. “Do you think we should get them puppies? Maybe a couple of golden retrievers.”

  “Oh, yes, that’s all we need is two puppies to care for in addition to two babies. Eli, get a grip, please!” But she couldn’t help laughing. She’d wanted a caring and involved father, and so far she wasn’t disappointed. Granted, buying presents was a lot easier than changing a diaper at four in the morning, but Eli’s generosity was a good sign.

  She hoped he wasn’t overextending himself, but she’d vowed to stay out of his finances, and she tried very hard to do that.

  Unfortunately, the cheery bubble of matrimonial bliss and expectant-parent rapture came to an abrupt end.

  Gwen was baking cranberry muffins. She’d been feeling exceptionally energetic today, and now that the summer heat was but a memory she’d felt like having a meaningful relationship with her oven. Eli, still in his work clothes, wandered into the kitchen and got himself a beer from his private stash in the fridge. Since he never overindulged, Gwen had decided to lift her grandmother’s ban on alcohol.

  Eli didn’t greet her with his customary smile and kiss.

  “Eli, is something wrong?”

  “Nothing that can’t be fixed with a barrel of money.”

  “What?”

  “Bud Farrell, the guy who bought the Nash?”

  “Yes?”

  “He stopped payment on the check. Apparently on his way back to Denver he had an accident—totaled the car. He claims it was the car’s fault—my fault—and he’s threatening to file suit.”

  Gwen set down the pan of muffins she’d just removed from the oven and joined Eli at the table. “That’s terrible! What can we do?”

  “We won’t do anything. It’s not your problem. I’ll take care of it.”

  “But I’m the one who accepted the wrong kind of check. Anyway, we’re married. That means we share our problems.”

  “Don’t worry, he can’t get to your money. You’re protected by the prenup.”

  “I don’t care about that. I’m asking how I can help.”

  He took a long swallow of beer. “The lawyers will hash it out. Mr. Farrell doesn’t have a legal leg to stand on. He was driving with inadequate insurance, even though he assured me he had plenty. Now he’s trying to weasel out of having to pay me, that’s all. I doubt he’ll sue me if I let it drop.”

  “But you’ll be out all that money! You worked hard for that.”

  “Or, I can turn lawyers loose on him. I’ll get my money, along with a huge bill for legal services. Either way I’ve been screwed over.”

  “I feel very responsible. Let me pay for the lawyer.”

  She thought he would be grateful, even if he turned her down. Instead he struck like a snake. “I don’t need your money! What do I have to do to convince you of that?”

  Gwen took an instinctive step backward. “Well, excuse me for trying to help.” She got up and went back to her muffins, keeping her back to Eli, hoping, praying he would apologize. Instead, she heard his chair scrape back and his footsteps leaving the kitchen.

  “Dammit,” she muttered as her eyes filled with tears. She dumped the muffins into a cloth-lined basket and covered them for later. How could there be any hope for their marriage if Eli wouldn’t talk to her about anything important? He was big on buying gifts for the babies,
but he obviously didn’t see Gwen as a real partner.

  She was just the mother of his children.

  Chapter Eleven

  The Tanner Boardinghouse became an armed camp. For two days, Gwen and Eli barely said a word to each other. But she was determined she was not going to apologize for offering help. He was being ridiculous!

  Meals were an ordeal to be survived. Oggie, Irene and Stella tried to engage the unhappy couple in conversation, but if Gwen and Eli talked at all, it was in monosyllables, and never to each other.

  Nights were the worst. Another cold front had come through, and Gwen would dearly have loved to snuggle up to her husband for warmth, instead of relying on a down comforter. But Eli slept on the very edge of his side of the bed, his back turned to her. She thought his behavior was very juvenile, and she wanted to tell him so. But that would only make things worse.

  There was something about Eli’s demeanor that bothered her. He wasn’t just mad, he was hurt. Her offer of financial assistance had injured his pride, apparently. But the hurt seemed to be bone-deep, and Gwen was sure there was something going on besides his dented male ego.

  On the morning of the third day, just when things couldn’t get any worse, they did. As she was helping Irene with the breakfast dishes, Eli barreled into the kitchen with a face that looked like a thundercloud.

  “Eli, what is it?”

  Irene took one look at him, mumbled some excuse and scooted out of the kitchen.

  “I just got off the phone with my credit card company,” Eli said.

  Uh-oh. She had some explaining to do. At least he was talking to her.

  “You opened my mail?” he demanded.

  “It was already open. The post office did a number on the envelope. And you were out of town, and I was worried about that balance being overdue—I didn’t want your credit to be ruined. After all, it’s my credit, too.”

  “And it didn’t occur to you to call me first? Ask me what to do? Or at least tell me what you’d done?”

  She hadn’t because she’d known he wouldn’t be pleased. A few days ago, they’d been having so much fun being newlyweds and preparing for the babies that she hadn’t wanted to spoil things. Then, after their argument, she’d figured it would be matrimonial suicide to confess she’d paid his bill. She’d just hoped he wouldn’t notice, that he wouldn’t remember how large the balance had been.

  “I’m sorry, Eli, truly I am. Credit card debt makes me very uneasy.”

  “I had it under control,” he said, teeth clenched. “Gwen, a fistful of keys means nothing if you don’t really trust me.”

  “Maybe I would trust you more if you trusted me! You acted all secretive about your business trip.”

  “If you wanted to know about my business trip, why didn’t you ask me? Am I supposed to be a mind reader?”

  “I was raised not to be nosy. But I’m asking now.”

  “I was gambling away the grocery money.”

  Gwen’s eyes filled with tears. “Just forget it.” She swept past him and headed for the stairs, wishing desperately that she could run. But the size she was, lumbering was the best she could do.

  Eli was right behind her. “Gwen, wait. I’m sorry. You asked a question, and you deserve an honest answer.”

  “I already knew that,” she said through her tears. “Eli, just go away. I’m going to cry for a while, and I want to do it alone.”

  ELI BACKED OFF, but only because he didn’t want to make things worse. He would give Gwen a chance to calm down and cool off. Meanwhile, he would do a little cooling off himself.

  Was paying his credit card balance such a terrible thing? Had he overreacted?

  Eli sank onto the stairs, propped his chin in his hands, and gave it a good long think. Most men would be overjoyed to have a rich wife pay off his bills. But the fact was, Eli liked to do things himself. That was why he’d done well with his business. He relied on no one but himself. He didn’t have to worry about a payroll, or whether he could trust his employees, or whether his workers were doing things exactly as he would do them.

  That was why he was renovating the house next door with his own hands, rather than hiring a contractor. When he looked at a smooth wood floor or a flawless paint job, he could say, I did that. And if he messed up a job, if it wasn’t perfect, he could tear it out and start over without answering to anyone.

  When he took help from someone, they expected something in return. Or they pitied him, saw him as a charity case. He didn’t care for either scenario. What did Gwen expect? She had his loyalty, his affection and his promise to be the best father he knew how to be. Was she worried he would grow bored with family life and leave? Was she trying to tie him to her with gratitude?

  Or did she merely see him as a charity case, someone she could rescue and rehabilitate with her money?

  He rubbed his eyes. It hurt to think about these things. He’d never imagined a relationship with a woman could be so complicated. Of course, his other relationships—if they could even be called that—had been simple to walk away from.

  He cocked his head and listened for any noise coming from upstairs, but all was quiet. He decided a peace offering was in order. He went to the kitchen and brewed a cup of Gwen’s favorite raspberry tea, then poured it into a pretty blue-and-white china cup. He carried it carefully up the stairs and knocked on the bedroom door.

  “Gwen?”

  There was no answer, so he went inside. She was lying on the bed, on top of the covers, sound asleep. Her face was puffy from crying, and a twinge of guilt arrowed through Eli’s heart. Part of him wanted to stay mad at her. It was so much more comfortable keeping her a safe distance from his heart.

  But, God, look at her! How could he continue to hurt her, no matter how much righteous indignation he wrapped around himself?

  He smoothed a strand of her glorious auburn hair off her cheek. She stirred, opened her eyes and immediately tensed. He hated the wariness in her eyes. It was the look of a dog that was expecting to be kicked.

  “I brought you some tea.”

  She sat up and propped herself up with pillows. “Thank you.” She took the cup and sipped at the tea, her gaze never leaving him.

  “I was in Las Vegas consulting with some developers who are building a new casino with an automotive theme. They’ve acquired some old cars with historical significance—cars belonging to famous gangsters, complete with bullet holes. The car some movie star died in.”

  “Oh, that’s really macabre.”

  “That’s what I told them. They didn’t care. They’re looking for someone to restore the cars in a certain way—to pretty them up while leaving visible damage.”

  Gwen wrinkled her nose. “I hope you demanded a high fee. A distastefulness bonus.”

  “It’s not the kind of business I’m interested in.”

  “You turned it down?”

  “I told them I’d restore the cars nobody had died in. They told me I was superstitious.” He laughed and shook his head. “They’re going with a bigger outfit that can work faster and cheaper.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I stopped by the black jack table on my way out of town and won two thousand dollars.” He went to the dresser, opened a drawer, and pulled out a package.

  “More presents for the girls?”

  “For all of us. And something for you.” He’d been thinking about the fact that his “wedding present” to Gwen had really been a gift for the babies. He should have gotten her something more personal.

  Gwen opened the box as if she expected something to jump out and bite her. But when she saw the book of baby names, she smiled. “Amanda will be mad you didn’t buy this from her.”

  “She’ll survive. Look under the book.”

  Gwen gasped when she saw the diamond stud earrings nestled in the cotton. “Oh, Eli, you shouldn’t blow money on such expensive presents.”

  “But it was a windfall.”

  “And it could have just as e
asily been a huge loss. Why would you gamble? Why would anyone want to gamble?”

  “This, coming from a woman who won the lottery?”

  Gwen smiled and turned pink. “You’re right. Although a dollar a week is hardly gambling. But I guess it’s none of my business if you want to spend your money that way. Thank you for the earrings. They’re beautiful.” She took a sip of tea, then changed the subject. “Remember, I told you my mother was a Rhymann?”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  “Well, she really was a mustard heiress. Her grandfather left her a big chunk of change when he died. Anyway, my father lured my mother into marriage by pretending he was a prosperous rancher. What he really was, was a pig farmer, and not a very good one.”

  Eli waited, sensing Gwen had a point to make here.

  “My father was a gambling addict. Within months of their marriage, he’d wiped out my mother’s bank account by paying off some rather unsavory characters he owed money to. She was ready to forgive him, if he promised to stop gambling. But he couldn’t, and he left her with a pile of new debts—and me.”

  Aw, jeez. No wonder she was a little sensitive about money issues. No wonder his sudden trip to Las Vegas had sent her bouncing off the walls.

  “I don’t even like gambling that much,” he assured her. “Anyway, I would never gamble more than I could afford to lose.”

  “But you were counting on that twenty-three thousand dollars from the Nash.”

  “I don’t spend money until it’s in the bank.”

  “But the credit card—”

  “I pay it off every month.”

  “You spent sixteen thousand dollars in one month?”

  “I had to buy building supplies, and equipment for the garage. A new furnace. Stained glass for the front door. It adds up. Gwen, please, I’m a big boy. I can handle my money.”

  “But you haven’t always, have you?”

  The air in the room seemed to change texture. A new tension, a dangerous one, sprang up between them.

  “I know about your bankruptcy,” she said quietly, though she might as well have been screaming the words. “And you had your name changed. What was that all about?”