Page 26 of The Cowboy's Secret Babies

“Rosie.” Her big brother looked at her with something a lot like pity in that gaze of his. “We’re talking about a man who has spent the bulk of his adult life on the back of bucking bulls. For funandprofit.”

“I don’t have the slightest idea what you mean by that. I know what he does for a living.” She shook her head. “How does that have anything to do with the situation?”

“Ryder Carey is not a civilized man,” Jack told her, with a note of finality in his voice. “If you think he is, that can only mean one thing. He’s just waiting for the right time to show you his real face.”

That was the moment Matilda came charging in with the boys, and Rosie had to pretend that she hadn’t felt a chill at Jack’s words, down deep into her soul. Making her feel brittle and cold, even when Jack stoked the fire.

But the following morning it was the boys’ birthday, so there was no time to worry about Ryder’strue face.

His actual face was problematic enough, and he presented it at the house later that day, with all of his family in tow.

One of the many civilized decisions that Ryder and Rosie had made was this one. Rather than overwhelm the boys with a stream of visitors coming by and being, in all likelihood, a little overly emotional in their presence, they decided to have this birthday party instead.

It had actually been Rosie’s idea. Ryder had completely agreed.

The boys had taken cupcakes to their nursery school, and played with their little friends, like the famous Jacinta, but this evening party had a different agenda altogether.

It was still celebrating their birthday, but more than that, it was celebrating the fact that they were all family now.

Rosie bustled around, serving the cake on paper plates featuring Spider-Man, Eli’s favorite, and Superman, Levi’s hero.

“This is like the cocktail party from hell,” Matilda muttered from beside her at one point as they hunched in the kitchen, maniacally putting together another tray of sweet treats.

Because obviously, any perilous emotional moment could be handled with enough sugar. Or at least a person could get through it that way.

“And how,” Rosie muttered in reply.

Out in the living room, the boys were hopped up on cake and candy, and were loving holding court for all these new adults who hung on their every word.

Harlan had his arm around Kendall, who was looking a little misty eyed and a good bit rounder than the last time Rosie had seen her. But then, Zeke and Belinda were looking emotional too. They sat with Jack on the couch and made no bones about the fact that they were instantly and irrevocably in love with their grandchildren.

Rosie’s cousins stood a line against the wall, like they thought this was an Old West saloon. On the other side of the room, she saw the younger Carey brothers, Boone and Knox, staring right back at them, like at any moment it might be time to draw a six-gun, or break out into fisticuffs.

“Ignore them,” came a voice from beside her.

She glanced up and froze. She thought it was Ryder, but only for a second. Because this version was smiling. There was a particular gleam in his gaze that suggested a deep good humor, and she knew instantly that it was Wilder.

“I always do ignore them,” she said. “As my longtime personal policy.”

“Apparently,” Wilder told her, as if they were buddies who always clustered together to talk like this, when they most certainly were not, “words were exchanged in the Copper Mine, feelings were hurt, panties were twisted, and now someone owes someone else an apology. Yet none are forthcoming.”

“Sounds like every single night of the week of the Copper Mine,” Rosie replied dryly.

“So it does,” Wilder agreed. He crossed his arms, a smile on his face as he looked down at her. “Have to say, I really don’t know how I missed it before, but it sure is something to see mirror images of my brother and me running around like this.”

Rosie felt her smile shake a little. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry,” Wilder replied, and she could see that he meant it. “I know how my brother behaves.”

What she wanted to say was that Wilder hadn’t behaved all that differently himself, until recently. But he was a married man now. And Rosie had always thought that bringing up people’s dirty pasts when they turned over a new leaf was mean. So she didn’t say a word.

But there was suddenly another male body on her other side, and he was less careful.

“I can’t help it if women find me fascinating,” Ryder drawled at his twin. “I was never required to roll up on tourists and try to convince them that I was the cowboy of their dreams.”

“You just had to make sure you were out of there before dawn,” Wilder replied with a laugh. “If they saw you in the light, they might figure you out.”

“Don’t pay any attention to him,” Ryder told Rosie. “He’s always been jealous.” He looked at Wilder again. “I can’t help that I’m the pretty one.”

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