The Triplets' Cowboy Daddy. Patricia Johns
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in her mother’s voice. The secret was out. She’d been holding this one close to her chest, and Nora knew how much her mother dreaded the whole town knowing the ugly truth about her husband’s affair. So did Nora, for that matter. It was worse somehow that her father wasn’t here to answer any questions, or take the brunt of this for them. He deserved to feel ashamed; they didn’t. Nora and her mother hadn’t been the ones to betray trust; he had. But he was dead, and they were left with the fallout of Cliff Carpenter’s poor choices.
“Hi, Mrs. Carpenter.” Easton stood awkwardly, the baby nestled against his chest, and seemed almost afraid to move. “Just lending a hand. I came by to tell you that we’re rotating pastures for fence maintenance, and that will require a bit of overtime from the ranch hands.”
“More overtime?” Dina sighed. “No, no, do it. The southwest fences, right? We put them off last year, so...” She sighed. “Is that all?”
“Yeah.” Easton nodded. “I can get going.” He looked down at the baby in his arms then at Dina as if he didn’t know what to do.
If the homestead was still in the family, Nora would have moved in there with the babies to give her mother some space, but that was no longer an option. Nora and Dina would just have to deal with this together.
“I guess we’ll have to get the babies settled in your old bedroom,” Dina said. She paused, put a hand over her eyes. “I still can’t believe it’s come to this.”
“Mom, you know I can’t take care of them alone—”
“And why did you agree to be godmother?” Her mother heaved a sigh. “I swear, your generation doesn’t think!” She pressed her lips together. “I’m sorry, Nora. What’s done is done.”
Dina grabbed the bags and headed down the hallway toward Nora’s old bedroom. Nora and Easton exchanged a look.
“She’s not taking this well,” Nora said, feeling like she had to explain somehow.
“I can see that.” Easton glanced in the direction his boss had disappeared. “You going to be okay here?”
“Do I have a choice?” Nora failed to keep the chill from her tone. The guesthouse would have been the perfect solution, but Easton owned it now. That wouldn’t be lost on him. No matter how big the ranch house, the five of them would be cramped. Her mother was right—she hadn’t thought this through. If she’d imagined that she’d ever have to step in and raise these girls, she would have found a polite way to decline the honor. Mia must have had some close friends...maybe some relative on her mother’s side that she could have named as godparent.
Dina came back into the kitchen, her eyes redder than before. Had her mother been crying in the other room?
“Okay, let’s figure this out,” Dina said, her voice wooden. “Where are they going to sleep?”
* * *
NORA WAS STARING BLANKLY, and she looked like she wanted to cry. Two of the babies were snuggled in her arms. It was a stupid time for Easton to be noticing, but she was just as gorgeous as she’d always been, with her honey-blond hair and long, slim legs. He’d been halfway in love with her since the sixth grade. She’d never returned his feelings—ever.
Bobbie took a deep breath in her sleep then scrunched her face. He felt a surge of panic and patted the little rump as if soothing the baby would fix all of this. He glanced toward the car seat then at Bobbie. He wanted out of here—to get some space of his own to think this through. Except Nora and Dina looked like they were ready to collapse into tears, and here he stood, the legal owner of the obvious solution.
Easton was a private man. He liked quiet and solitude, and he had that with his new home—Cliff had known exactly how much it would mean to him. But Cliff hadn’t known that he’d have three granddaughters landing on his doorstep after his death...
Dina obviously needed some time to process all this, and Nora needed help—he could feel her desperation emanating from her like waves...
Guilt crept up inside him—a nagging certainty that he stood between Nora and her solution. He didn’t want to go back to the way things were when they were teens, and he certainly didn’t want to give up that house and land that his boss had given him, but he couldn’t just stand here and watch them scramble for some sort of arrangement as if it didn’t affect him, either. He felt responsible.
The words were coming out of his mouth before he had a chance to think better of them. “You can stay with me, Nora. It’s not a problem.”
Nora and Dina turned toward him, relief mingled with guilt written all over both faces. There had always been tension between mother and daughter, and the current situation hadn’t improved things.
“You sure?” Nora asked.
“You bet. It’ll be fine. There’s lots of room. Just for a few days, until you and your mom figure this out.” He was making this sound like a weekend away, not a complete invasion of his privacy, but he was already entangled in this family and had been for years. This was for old time’s sake—for the friendship that used to mean so much to him. And maybe this was also a guilt offering for having inherited that house to begin with.
The next few minutes were spent gathering up baby supplies and getting the car seats back into Nora’s four-door pickup truck. As Nora got into the driver’s seat, Dina visibly deflated from where she stood at the side door. She’d been holding herself together for her daughter’s sake, it seemed, and she suddenly looked small and older.
Cliff may have been many things, but he had been a good man at heart, and no one would convince Easton otherwise. A good husband? Perhaps not, given the recent revelation. But a man could be good at heart and lousy with relationships. At least Easton hoped so, because he seemed to fall into that category himself. If it weren’t for Cliff, Easton’s life would have turned out a whole lot differently. Loyalty might be in short supply, but Easton knew where his lay.
He got into his own rusted-out Ford and followed Nora down the familiar drive toward his little house. His house. Should he feel so territorial about the old place? He’d fixed it up a fair amount since taking ownership, and the work had brought him a lot of comfort. He’d grown up in a drafty old house in town filled with his dad’s beer bottles and piles of dishes that never got washed. So when he found out that Cliff had left him the house and the land, something inside him had grown—like roots sinking down, giving more security than he’d ever had. He’d stared at that deed, awash in gratefulness. He’d never been a guy who let his feelings show, but he had no shame in the tears that misted his eyes when he shook the lawyer’s hand.
I shouldn’t have gotten attached. And that was the story of his life, learning not to get attached, because nothing really lasted.
The farmhouse was a small, two-story house with white wooden siding and a broad, covered front porch. He hadn’t been expecting company when he’d headed out for his morning chores, and he hoped that he’d left it decently clean. But this was his home, and while the situation was emotionally complicated, the legalities wouldn’t change. Mr. Carpenter had left it to him. The deed was in a safety deposit box at the bank.
After they’d parked, Easton hopped out of his truck and angled around to her vehicle, where she was already unbuckling car seats.
“Thanks,” Nora said as she passed him the first baby in her seat. “I don’t know how to balance three of them yet. I should probably call up Mackenzie Granger and see if she has any ideas. She’s got the twins, after all.”
He held the front door open for her with the heel of his boot and waited while she stepped inside. The sun was lowering in the sky, illuminating the simple interior. Nora paused as she looked around.
“It’s different than I left it.”
“Yeah...” He wasn’t sure how apologetic he should be here. “I got rid of the old furniture. It was pretty musty.”
Easton hadn’t put anything on