Free Christmas at Twilight by Lori Wilde Page B

look at him. She had no more than settled the kids in their chairs when Ben leaped up from his seat and moved to throw his arms around Kimmie.
    â€œWe’re twins,” he announced to Hutch.
    â€œTwins!” Kimmie cried, and hugged Ben back.
    â€œThey share the same birthday,” Jane explained as she sat down, her tone letting him know that she was ignoring everything that had just passed between them, the laughter, that brief moment of connection, his recognition that far more lay below the surface than she could or would reveal. “They’ve gotten it into their heads that means they’re twins.”
    â€œWe are,” Ben said firmly, brooking no argument.
    â€œTwins,” Kimmie confirmed.
    â€œThey’ve been inseparable ever since they met,” Jane said in that plain, not-giving-anything-away tone, her gaze fixed firmly on the cheesy elbow noodle on the end of her fork as if it held the key to the secret of the universe. “It’s the main reason I moved in here with Ashley. It’s been hard for—”
    She broke off. Put her fork down. Her breathing had quickened. She kept her head down, refusing to let him see her face.
    Hutch wished he could speak. He wanted to press her and find out what was so hard that it had led her here. She seemed like a proud woman, but she hid an ugly secret. It practically oozed from her pores.
    That scar . . .
    Maybe it was better that he couldn’t ask her questions without tracking down his Magic Slate. Maybe it was better not to know. He didn’t like people prying around in his head. What business did he have to dig around in hers?
    Finally, she shot him a quick glance, but there was nothing in it. She’d mastered whatever emotion it was that had momentarily choked her up. “Don’t you like mac and cheese?”
    He nodded. He’d been so busy trying to read her body language that he hadn’t taken a bite.
    â€œI could make something else.”
    He shook his head, silently mouthed, It’s fine .
    â€œDo you . . .” She motioned at her throat. “Have trouble swallowing?”
    In answer, he took a bite, swallowed, made an exaggerated “mmm” face that had the kids giggling again. He and Jane ate in silence while the children chattered about Christmas. He’d never seen two kids of the same age get along so well.
    â€œMommy, can me and Kimmie have the candy Santa gave us?” Ben asked.
    â€œFirst, eat your green beans.”
    Ben looked like he might argue, but after a stern look from his mother, he popped a green bean in his mouth and chewed as he idly kicked the rungs of his chair. Kimmie eyed him, nudged the green beans off her plate, and then looked over at Jane, challenging her.
    â€œYou too, Kimmie,” she said mildly.
    Kimmie wrinkled her nose, rested her elbow on the table, let her shoulders drop into a sag. “I don’t wike green beans.”
    â€œYou ate green beans last week and said you loved them,” Jane said in a kind, affectionate tone.
    â€œThat was before.” Kimmie poked at a green bean with a chubby little finger.
    Jane set her fork down, gave Kimmie her full attention. “Before what, sweetheart?”
    â€œYou know.” Kimmie shrugged and her eyelashes misted with tears. “Before my mommy went to visit Santa.”
    Jane reached across the table to pat Kimmie’s hand. She didn’t make false promises or excuses for Ashley. A tear rolled down his niece’s face and she ducked her head.
    It hit Hutch exactly what he was up against. Until Ashley decided to come home, Kimmie was his total responsibility. He thought of everything involved in taking care of a kid, meals and baths and taking her to and from school. Regular bedtimes and doctor appointments and making sure she brushed her teeth. It was hard work and he was in no shape to take on the task. It was the stuff of Hollywood comedies, a maimed soldier with PTSD in