The Complete Mackenzies Collection Read online

  He blanched. Nick was a hellion. Nick had a good shot at turning the entire family gray-haired within another year. For a very short person with a limited vocabulary, their offspring could cause an unbelievable uproar in a remarkably short period of time.

  They reached the crest of the mountain, and Zane slowed the car as they neared the large, sprawling ranch house. A variety of vehicles were parked around the yard—Wolf’s truck, Mary’s car, Mike and Shea’s Suburban, Josh and Loren’s rental, Ambassador Lovejoy’s rental, Maris’s snazzy truck, Chance’s motorcycle. Joe and Caroline and their five hooligans had arrived by helicopter. Boys seemed to be everywhere, from Josh’s youngest, age five, to John, who was Joe’s oldest and was now in college and here with his current girlfriend.

  They were adding two more to the gang.

  They got out and walked up the steps to the porch. Zane put his arm around her and hugged her close, tilting her face up for a kiss that quickly grew heated. Barrie glowed with a special sexuality when she was pregnant, and the plain truth was he couldn’t resist her. Their love play was often extended these days, now that pregnancy had once again made her breasts as sensitive as they had been when she’d carried Nick.

  “Stop that!” Josh called cheerfully from inside the house. “That’s what got her in that condition in the first place!”

  Reluctantly Zane released his wife, and together they went into the house. “That isn’t exactly right,” he told Josh, who laughed.

  The big television was on, and Maris, Josh and Chance were watching some show-jumping event. Wolf and Joe were discussing cattle with Mike. Caroline was arguing politics with the ambassador. Mary and Shea were organizing a game for the younger kids. Loren, who was often an oasis of calm in the middle of the Mackenzie hurricane, gave Barrie’s rounded stomach a knowing look. “How did the checkup go?” she asked.

  “Twins,” Barrie said, still in that numb tone. She gave Zane a helpless, how-did-this-happen look.

  The whirlwind of activity came to a sudden stop. Heads lifted and turned. Her father gasped. Mary’s face suddenly glowed with radiance.

  “Both boys,” Zane announced, before anyone could ask.

  A sigh almost of relief went around the room. “Thank God,” Josh said weakly. “What if it was another one—or two—like Nick!”

  Barrie’s head swiveled around as she began searching for a particular little head. “Where is Nick?” she asked.

  Chance bolted upright from his sprawled position on the couch. The adults looked around with growing panic. “She was right here,” Chance said. “She was dragging one of Dad’s boots around.”

  Zane and Barrie both began a rapid search of the house. “How long ago?” Barrie called.

  “Two minutes, no more. Just before you drove up.” Maris was on her knees, peering under beds.

  “Two minutes!” Barrie almost moaned. In two minutes, Nick could almost single-handedly wreck the house. It was amazing how such a tiny little girl with such an angelic face could be such a demon. “Nick!” she called. “Mary Nicole, come out, come out, wherever you are!” Sometimes that worked. Most times it didn’t.

  Everyone joined in the search, but their black-haired little terror was nowhere to be found. The entire family had been ecstatic at her birth, and she had been utterly doted on, with even the rough-and-tumble cousins fascinated by the daintiness and beauty of the newest Mackenzie. She really did look angelic, like Pebbles on the old Flintstones cartoons. She was adorable. She had Zane’s black hair; slanted, deceptively innocent blue eyes; and dimples on each side of her rosebud mouth. She had sat up by herself at four months, crawled at six, walked at eight, and the entire family had been on guard ever since.

  They found Wolf’s boot beneath Mary’s glassed-in collection of angels. From the scuff marks on the wall, Zane deduced his little darling had been trying to knock the collection down by heaving the boot at it. Luckily the boot had been too heavy for her to handle. Her throwing arm wasn’t well developed yet, thank God.

  She had a frightful temper for such a little thing, and an outsize will, too. Keeping her from doing something she was determined to do was like trying to hold back the tide with a bucket. She had also inherited her father’s knack for planning, something that was eerie in a two-year-old. Nick was capable of plotting the downfall of anyone who crossed her.

  Once, when Alex, Joe’s second oldest, had seen her with a knife in her hand and swiftly snatched it away before she could harm anyone or anything, Nick had thrown a howling temper tantrum that had been halted only when Zane swatted her rear end. Discipline from her adored daddy made her sob so heartbrokenly that everyone else got a lump in their throats. That, and making her sit down in her punishment chair, were so far the only two things they’d discovered that could reduce her to tears.

  When she had stopped sobbing, she had pouted in a corner for a while, all the time giving Alex threatening looks over one tiny shoulder. Then she had gone to Barrie for comfort, crawling into her mother’s lap to be rocked. Her next stop had been Zane’s lap, to show him that she forgave him. She’d wound her little arms around his neck and rubbed her chubby little cheek against his rough one. She’d even taken a brief nap, lying limply against his broad shoulder. She’d woken, climbed down and darted off to the kitchen, where she’d implored Mary, whom she called Gamma, for a “dink.” She was allowed to have soft drinks without caffeine, so Mary had given her one of the green bottles they always kept in store especially for Nick. Zane and Barrie always shared a look of intimate amusement at their daughter’s love for Seven-Up, but there was nothing unusual about seeing her clutching the familiar bottle in her tiny hands. She would take a few sips, then with great concentration screw the top onto the bottle and lug it around with her until it was finally empty, which usually took a couple of hours.

  On this occasion, Zane had happened to be watching her, smiling at her blissful expression as her little hands closed on the bottle. She had strutted out of the kitchen without letting Mary open the bottle for her and stopped in the hallway, where she vigorously shook the bottle with so much vigor that her entire little body had been bouncing up and down. Then, with a meltingly sweet smile on her face, she had all but danced into the living room and handed the bottle to Alex with a flirtatious tilt of her head. “Ope’ it, pees,” she’d said in her adorable small voice…and then she’d backed up a few steps.

  “No!” Zane had yelled, leaping up from his chair, but it was too late. Alex had already twisted the cap and broken the seal. The bottle spewed and spurted, the sticky liquid spraying the wall, the floor, the chair. It hit Alex full blast in the face. By the time he’d managed to get the cap securely back on the bottle, he was soaked.

  Nick had clapped her hands and said, “Hee, hee, hee,” and Zane wasn’t certain if it was a laugh or a taunt. It didn’t matter. He had collapsed on the floor in laughter, and there was an unbreakable law written in stone somewhere that you couldn’t punish youngsters if you’d laughed at what they’d done.

  “Nick!” he called now. “Do you want a Popsicle?” Next to Seven-Ups, Popsicles were her favorite treat.

  There was no answer.

  Sam tore into the house. He was ten, Josh and Loren’s middle son. His blue eyes were wide. “Uncle Zane!” he cried. “Nick’s on top of the house!”

  “Oh, my God,” Barrie gasped, and rushed out of the house as fast as she could. Zane tore past her, his heart in his throat, every instinct screaming for him to get to his child as fast as possible.

  Everyone spilled into the yard, their faces pale with alarm, and looked up. Nick was sitting cross-legged on the edge of the roof, her little face blissful as she stared down at them. “Hi,” she chirped.

  Barrie’s knees wobbled, and Mary put a supporting, protective arm around her.

  It was no mystery how Nick had gotten on the roof—a ladder was leaning against the house, and Nick was as agile as a young goat. The ladder shouldn’t have been there; in fact, Zane would have s