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The Rancher’s Surprise Triplets
Linda Ford


Three Little MatchmakersRancher Bo Stillwater has no plans of becoming a husband or a father…but he can’t turn away from the three babies he finds at the county fair. After leaving the abandoned triplets in the care of the doctor’s daughter, Louisa Clark, his duty should be done. So why can’t he seem to stay away from the babies and their pretty caregiver?Watching the town’s most eligible bachelor with the little trio reawakens Louisa’s unmet dreams. She’s found satisfaction in spinsterhood and caring for others, convinced that motherhood passed her by. Do she and Bo only work so well together for the children’s sakes…or could they both find courage to make this sweet temporary arrangement something truly lasting?







Three Little Matchmakers

Rancher Bo Stillwater has no plans of becoming a husband or a father...but he can’t turn away from the three babies he finds at the county fair. After leaving the abandoned triplets in the care of the doctor’s daughter, Louisa Clark, his duty should be done. So why can’t he seem to stay away from the babies and their pretty caregiver?

Watching the town’s most eligible bachelor with the little trio reawakens Louisa’s unmet dreams. She’s found satisfaction in spinsterhood and caring for others, convinced that motherhood passed her by. Do she and Bo only work so well together for the children’s sakes...or could they both find courage to make this sweet temporary arrangement something truly lasting?


“Did you fill your dance card?”

It took the space of two seconds for Bo to shift from his past to his present, and Louisa knew the moment he did. The lines of his face softened and his arm relaxed. “Still got some openings. Do you want me to put your name in one?” He flashed a teasing smile at her.

Or was it genuine?

Not that it mattered. She chuckled somewhat regretfully. “I think I will have my hands full with the triplets.”

“You’re missing all the fun.” He sounded truly disappointed on her behalf, which triggered a sting of tears in her eyes.

She ducked her head lest he see how his words affected her. “I’m doing what needs to be done.”

He made a musing sound that drew her gaze back to him. “I’m going to make a wild guess here and say that’s the story of your life…doing what needs to be done.”

* * *

Lone Star Cowboy League: Multiple Blessings

The Rancher’s Surprise Triplets—

Linda Ford, April 2017

The Nanny’s Temporary Triplets—

Noelle Marchand, May 2017

The Bride’s Matchmaking Triplets—

Regina Scott, June 2017


LINDA FORD lives on a ranch in Alberta, Canada, near enough to the Rocky Mountains that she can enjoy them on a daily basis. She and her husband raised fourteen children—four homemade, ten adopted. She currently shares her home and life with her husband, a grown son, a live-in paraplegic client and a continual (and welcome) stream of kids, kids-in-law, grandkids and assorted friends and relatives.


The Rancher’s Surprise Triplets

Linda Ford






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


He rescued me because he delighted in me…

It is God who arms me with strength

and keeps my way secure.

—Psalms 18:19, 32


To Marie. I see your struggles. I see your strength and courage. I pray God’s love into your life.


Contents

Cover (#u72c38f93-9596-5671-a498-7d35cf2e6874)

Back Cover Text (#u3c13af7a-63fc-5d58-894f-3996186454dc)

Introduction (#u4e5d8068-e2a7-54b7-a239-daabb21575f8)

About the Author (#u28a37259-c201-5a50-b9e8-6030c04f9617)

Title Page (#ud23e50d6-0643-5bcd-99a2-2598d73e1564)

Bible Verse (#u7dd57fa9-fc49-5cb9-a3ea-4c3ba998da72)

Dedication (#u427ac8bf-563f-57f6-94ab-c9f8f545c936)

Chapter One (#u63a35b53-2b06-534c-8a87-7af7635e5d7e)

Chapter Two (#ue170925b-1632-5f5e-98ad-8e7eaa0119d1)

Chapter Three (#u4bf75ead-a4b3-5086-85d9-db6e5a3736e6)

Chapter Four (#uf9075438-debf-51e5-9cc3-1ebe3bc340f9)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


Chapter One (#ulink_3cbcb55a-9331-5212-8b7a-23b472db63d8)

June 1896

Little Horn, Texas

Louisa Clark pushed through the half-dozen young women to get to the counter of the store. They peered at a sign on top of the oak counter.

“A dime a dance, you say?” One of the pretty women spoke. So young and fresh looking it made Louisa, at twenty-seven, realize she was well past her prime...old enough to earn the title of “spinster.” Not that it mattered to her. She was content with her life...found it immensely satisfying.

She edged between two of the young women and glanced at the sign. Dances were being sold at a dime a piece to raise money to help out the many needy families in the area. The ongoing drought left so many struggling to survive. Her heart went out to them. To be unable to care for one’s family must surely be the worst feeling in the world.

“There will be a dance Saturday night to wind up our three-day fair. Every man who wants a dance will have to pay a dime. Won’t that be fun?”

She glanced toward the speaker who answered the young lady’s question.

Bo Stillwater leaned back on the heels of his well-worn cowboy boots and pushed his equally well-worn cowboy hat back on his head, revealing sandy-brown hair and silvery eyes that seemed to be perpetually laughing at life. She’d met him shortly after her arrival in town and had barely been able to look directly at those eyes. He was a rancher and his twin brother was the preacher at the church next to the doctor’s house.

The young ladies turned as one to cluster around the cowboy.

“What about you, Mr. Stillwater? Are you going to pay a dime to dance with each of us?” The young miss blossomed rosy pink.

Louisa felt sorry for her. Had she ever been so young and innocent? Oh, yes, there was a time she’d fancied herself in love. At eighteen she had been naive and full of dreams. She’d loved Wes and trusted that he loved her. But when things got serious enough for them to talk marriage, she had warned him they’d have to wait until Amy and Mother no longer needed her. He had responded that it sounded like she meant for him to wait most of his life. Said he wasn’t willing to wait. She wasn’t worth waiting for. Nine years later she sometimes wondered if she was finally worth waiting for or if she was meant to always be alone.

Enough dwelling on the past. It offered nothing but painful memories. She glanced at her work-worn hands and the dusty skirts of her dress. She had no time for fussing about her looks. What mattered the most was helping her father with his doctoring and caring for her mother.

In the three weeks they’d been in Little Horn, Texas, she’d helped Father clean the office area and examining room. He’d been seeing patients from the beginning but could now receive them in his office. Getting the rest of the house ready for Mother’s arrival was next.

“I’ve come up with a better idea,” Bo said. “I’m going to sell dances with me for a dime. That way anyone who wants to be my partner can be and it’s a fine way to raise more money.” He held up a piece of paper. “I have slots to fill. Anyone interested?”

The young ladies rivaled each other for the chance to pay money to dance with Mr. Bo Stillwater.

The storekeeper finally turned his attention to Louisa and she ordered the supplies she needed. She wanted more cleaning compound to get the grime off the walls of the kitchen.

“You must be scrubbing that house within an inch of its life,” he commented.

“Simply doing what I can to make it ready for my mother.” The house Father purchased to set up his medical practice and a home for the family was adequate for the most part. But not for an invalid like her mother. Mother needed things to be extremely clean or she’d catch something and get ill. Her weak heart put her life in jeopardy. Besides utmost cleanliness, she needed the furniture arranged in such a way she could navigate the rooms in her wheelchair. Louisa was anxious to see her mother again and smiled as she thought of how welcoming she would make the house for her and how appreciative Mother would be.

“She’ll be along soon, will she?”

“I expect so. She’s traveling with my sister and her husband at a more leisurely pace than my father and I took.” Plus she’d be sleeping in the best accommodations available and eating in the best restaurants on their journey from Cleveland, Ohio. Father and Louisa had taken the cheapest and fastest transportation and eaten food they’d packed before leaving home. Not that she minded. It had been like a holiday to be traveling alone with her father.

“The doc seems to be doing a brisk business.”

“He’s been busy,” she agreed. “Busy enough that on occasion we’ve gotten young Annie Hill to help.” Annie had assisted Louisa on some of her calls to deliver babies—there’d been four since they’d come. Once the women of the community learned that Louisa was somewhat of a midwife, they had taken to calling her for help rather than bother the doctor. Annie was efficient as an assistant to Louisa when she attended a birthing. She was kind and helpful in other ways, too...such as helping to clean the house.

“Bo’s doing a brisk business too.” The storekeeper nodded toward the rancher, who took a dime and jotted down a name. “He’s determined to bring in enough money to help all those in need, and by the looks of it, he could well succeed. Industrious young man. He’d make someone a good husband.” The man’s black-shoe-button eyes bored into Louisa. “Say, you aren’t married, are you?”

Louisa chuckled. “I really don’t see how I’d fit a husband into my already busy life.”

“That a fact?” He sounded less than convinced.

“How much for the supplies?” Before she could withdraw the few coins for the storekeeper, the room grew silent and the walls sucked inward, like everyone drew in a deep breath at the same time. A footfall sounded behind her and her neck muscles twitched.

She knew without looking that Bo moved closer and she quickly gathered together her purchases and turned. He stood squarely in front of her, blocking her escape. His odd-colored eyes sent shivers through her. Her gaze darted past his shoulder to the doorway.

“What about you, Miss Clark?” His smile teased.

Six young ladies stared at her. She would not look directly at them, certain she’d see resentment that the handsome bachelor would pay her attention.

“I’m sorry.” Her tongue barely functioned. “I don’t understand your question.”

His grin widened. “About the dance. Can I sign you up to offer dances? And would you care to pay a dime for the privilege of a dance with me?” He lifted his sheet of paper toward her. Already several lines were filled in.

No doubt her cheeks were unattractively red. She felt everyone waiting. Knew she had to say something but his question left her speechless.

She said the first thing that sprang to her mind. “I would not want to take a dance away from any of your admirers.” Her purchases pressed hard to her chest, she pushed past Bo and rushed out the door. Why had she said that? She understood the dance was not without its benefits as a way to raise funds. Her answer made her sound as though she didn’t care about helping the town. She did care. But between preparing for her mother’s arrival and helping her father with his work, there was no time in her life for anything else.

Her life was satisfyingly full. She’d found joy in caring for her mother and making sure her younger sister, Amy, enjoyed a happy and full life despite being frail because of her too early birth. She knew it wasn’t her fault Amy was born early but still she carried a burden of guilt. She’d visited a friend and brought home an infection that made Mother ill, made her deliver Amy much too early and permanently damaged Mother’s already weak heart.

Bo called after her. “Surely you are going to support the—”

The door clicked shut, closing off the rest of his words.

Of course she would support the county fair. She’d contribute what she could toward the fund-raising because her heart went out to those struggling through hard times.

She would love to help the cause with just one dance with the silver-eyed Bo, but it wasn’t to be.

* * *

Bo adjusted his hat as the girls around him gasped or giggled as suited their personalities. What was wrong with Miss Clark that she refused to take part in the festivities? Yes, she was a newcomer so perhaps unaware of the needs in the community. The drought affected so many of the ranchers, leaving them near destitute. There were needy widows with children in the area. And orphans that needed care. He would like to see the young men who worked on the ranches be taught some basic schooling so they could handle their affairs better. Some could not even write their names or do more than basic counting, which left them vulnerable to being taken advantage of.

His final words to Miss Clark died before he could spit them out. Surely you are going to support the Lone Star Cowboy League. He was one of the founding members and deeply committed to the causes it sponsored by offering many forms of assistance to fellow ranchers. Lately, it had grown to include anyone in the community in need of aid.

Pretty little Suzanne Bachmeier, whose father owned the shoe-making business, edged closer. “I’ll buy her dance.” She giggled behind her hand, batting her blue eyes at him. Her blond ringlets danced with her merriment.

Her equally pretty and equally blonde sister, Nora, delicately edged her aside. “No, I will. After all, I’m older than you.”

The girls elbowed each other while the rest of the young ladies protested loudly.

He held up his hands. “Now, now. Let’s be fair. One dance only until Saturday night. Then if I have any spaces left, I’ll...” He hadn’t thought of how he’d handle the possibility but now saw what an opportunity it would be. “I’ll auction off whatever dances I have left.” Pleased with his solution, he tipped his hat at the young ladies and hurried from the store.

Was that Miss Clark turning the corner ahead? He’d catch up to her and explain why the league was so important to the community. He lengthened his stride, easily gaining on her.

She turned to the right. Her pace increased as she turned right again down the next street. He followed, steadily gaining on her. He had most of the block to overtake her before she reached the doctor’s quarters.

But his steps slowed as he drew abreast of the blacksmith shop. The two boys—Butch, fifteen, and Brady, twelve—huddled in the shadows of the building. Butch spoke low and hard. Brady’s shoulders shook. The boys had lost their mother last year.

Bo remembered how that felt. He and his twin, Brandon, were sixteen when their gentle mother had died, leaving the boys under the guardianship of their cruel father. His words still rang in Bo’s head. You’ll never amount to a row of beans. Too much like your mother, the both of you.

Bo sucked in a deep breath. He would not let his father’s words hurt him any longer, though they had achieved one good thing...they’d made Bo determined to prove the old man wrong and he was well on his way to doing it by becoming a successful rancher.

“Howdy,” he called.

Both lads jerked toward him. Brady scrubbed at his cheeks, wiping away the evidence of a cry.

Bo’s gut clenched. His fists curled. He’d never known James Forester to be a hard man, but nevertheless, these boys were having a difficult time. Their situation was different from his and Brandon’s. Yet it was much the same. The loss and aloneness of death. What could he do to help them? He remembered the candy sticks he’d purchased at the store. Although he had a genuine fondness for sweets, he would gladly share them if it helped these boys forget their pain if only for a few minutes.

He pulled the little package from his pocket. “I think I bought more of these than I should have. You two care to help me reduce the number?” He took two steps toward them and showed them the array of candy.

Brady moved first and selected a red-and-white stick—peppermint. One of Bo’s favorites.

Butch hung back momentarily, then grabbed the cinnamon stick. Two of Bo’s favorites gone, but he selected the root-beer-flavored one and the three of them sucked at the candy.

“You boys will be coming to the fair tomorrow, won’t you?” he asked.

Butch shrugged. “Pa says we’re too busy.” The ringing thunder of hammer against anvil bore witness to the truth of those words.

Brady scuffed the toe of his boot against a lump of dirt and said nothing.

Bo straightened. “Maybe he’ll change his mind.” He glanced down the street. Miss Clark had disappeared into the doctor’s house. He was about to again follow after her when David McKay rode up on horseback and called to him. David, one of the three McKay brothers, had a little girl, Maggie. Bo glanced around, wondering what mischief she was up to at the moment. He didn’t see the child and tried to relax.

“Bo, we’re having trouble getting some of the tents to stay upright. Could you come and give a hand?”

He should have been at the fairgrounds long ago, had been headed that direction when he got sidetracked with his good idea of selling dances and then of convincing Miss Clark to join the activities. All for a good cause. “I’ll be right there.” He’d talk to Miss Clark later. Perhaps to James Forester, as well. Every bit of money would help, be it admission to the grounds, entry fee for the many contests to be judged, payment for a chance to participate in the many games or a dime for a dance.

He made his way to the fairgrounds, where his intentions were soon shoved aside as he confronted the many demands. He wanted this event to be successful in every way and rushed from one need to the next—helping drive in tent pegs, setting up sawhorse tables for the displays, checking to make sure the judges had everything they needed, pointing out the need to keep the area clear around the horseshoe pits. As dusk descended, people drifted away. The air filled with the gentle sounds of night—a distant owl, even more distant coyotes with their mournful song, a woman calling to a child, a fretful baby crying and the slam of doors as people returned to their homes for the night.

He wandered through the grounds and, satisfied with the setup, he retrieved his horse where it waited patiently and rode to his ranch. Dusk gave way to darkness but he didn’t need light to recognize the familiar sounds of his home. The gentle lowing of cattle settling down for the night, the rustle of leaves in the breeze, the call of a duck on the nearby pond. He entered the barn, lit the lantern and took care of his horse before he made his way to the house.

His housekeeper, Mrs. Jamieson, greeted him in the kitchen. “Supper’s on the stove.”

“Cake for dessert, I see.”

She waved him away. “That’s for the cake competition tomorrow.”

“You’ll win the blue ribbon for sure.”

She fluttered a towel at him. “I’m just an ordinary cook. You eat up. I’ve already eaten so I could finish the apron I’m entering in the fair.” She disappeared into the sitting room to tend to her sewing.

He eyed the cake with a degree of disappointment but it was good to know Mrs. Jamieson was doing her part to support the fair. He had yet to speak to Miss Clark and persuade her to do the same.

* * *

The next morning, he left early for town. People would be coming to set up their wares, to put out their baked goods and sewing for judging. He needed to be there to make sure it all went well. He’d check on things at the fairgrounds, then go over to the doctor’s house and speak to Miss Clark. The fair was going to raise a lot of money and be a great deal of fun. She ought not to miss it.

The sound of many people reached him even before he arrived at the site. Not an unpleasant sound. He sat on his horse, grinning widely. It was going to be a success. He turned aside to the spot where animals and wagons were parked for the day and left his horse there. The grounds were alive with people rushing in and out of the tents and booths, preparing for the opening. He began his tour of the grounds, checking every tent, greeting each contestant and wishing them the best. He toured the livestock area, admiring the array of horses, sheep and pigs.

A little later, satisfied that things were ready for the opening at noon, Bo made his final stop. He stepped into the pie tent, where he would serve as one of the judges. He’d agreed to judge this competition in honor of his mother. She’d made the best peach pie. As the aroma of many pies assailed him, a flood of memories washed through him. Ma, her smile welcoming them, serving him and Brandon generous slices of pie. Father was away, so they could relax and enjoy their time around the table without fear of him coming in and turning the meal into some kind of confrontation. Father took joy in making life miserable for his wife and two sons. He criticized with cruel comments, mocked his wife and sons, and didn’t hesitate to use his hands to convey his hateful attitude. Because of his father, Bo, at twenty-nine, had not married and would never do so. Only once had he come close to forgetting his vow and he would not make that mistake again. He had courted a young lady back in Boston. But it didn’t work out. He’d watched Valerie berate a child who splashed mud on her and was so angry at her unkindness to the poor little boy that Bo’s rage threatened to overtake him. He knew then he had too much of his father in him to ever marry and have children. Like Father had mockingly said. Don’t forget half the blood flowing through your veins is from me.

Bo would never forget the cruel laughter following those words as if his father was happy to think of his sons living the same sort of unhappy life the elder Stillwater lived.

Instead, Bo would do what he could to make life better for others. He would judge the pies and think sweet thoughts of his ma while he did.

He turned, about to leave, when a sound caught his attention. A cry? A baby? He looked again into the interior of the tent. Row after row of pies upon long tables arranged in a U shape. He was alone in the tent. The sound must have come from a woman walking by with a baby in her arms. But the cry came again. Then a second. And the sound came from nearby. From inside the tent. How odd. His imagination must be playing tricks on him.

He shook his head and took another step toward the doorway. A third cry joined the others. His imagination had gotten very loud. Loud enough to require further investigation. Were some mischievous boys trying to trick him? If so, they were very good at imitating babies.

He went around the top of the U and down the side. The sound grew louder, more insistent. With a sudden rush forward, he rounded the corner, intending to catch the teasing culprits before they could race away. At what he saw, he ground to a halt and stared. A pushcart with deep sides and a broad bottom stood at the end of the table. Three angry little faces screwed up and wailed a protest. Three babies? Who? Where? What? He couldn’t bring a single rational thought to his mind. Three pairs of feet kicked a beat to accompany their cries. The worn blue blanket covering them tangled around the chubby feet. A piece of paper lay tucked in beside the thin mattress. He pulled it out, opened it and read the words.

To the Lone Star Cowboy League: Please take care of my triplets. I’m widowed and penniless. The ranch is dried out. I can’t stay there and provide for my babies. I’m also very sick and am going to where I was born to meet my maker. One day, if you could make sure the boys knew I loved them, I’d be obliged. They were born September 30. Was the happiest day of my life.

Surely this was a mistake. A trick. He ducked down to look under the cloths covering the tables. No one. Nothing but trampled grass.

He straightened and glanced into every corner of the tent, hoping to discover someone hiding there. Nothing. What was he to do? He couldn’t think over the sobbing babies.

He looked at them again, his heart breaking into three at their misery.

Jasper, Eli and Theo, he read on the front of their tiny shirts.

Their noses ran. The one with Theo on his shirt pulled at his ears. Little Eli had bright red cheeks. He touched those cheeks. Hot. He touched the cheeks of the other two. Hot, as well. He was no expert on babies but he guessed they were sick. He’d take them to the doctor and then find the mother. Please, God, keep her safe until we locate her.

The Lone Star Cowboy League could help this poor mother and her babies.


Chapter Two (#ulink_d7b91466-9adc-5b22-bb7a-b4f18f8f3b64)

Louisa brushed her flyaway brown hair back and braided it. Hopefully it would stay secure for a few hours. She glanced about the rooms of their new abode. The front room was spacious with windows providing a view of the street. She’d arranged the furniture so Mother could sit with her reading and handiwork close at hand and be able to watch the activity out the window. Seeing people scurrying about their business would help her hours to pass swiftly.

Louisa pressed back a rush of guilt. This room was ready, but the bedroom to the right needed more work before Mother came, and the kitchen needed even more cleaning. She should stay home and tend to her work, but all morning she’d watched people rushing down the street all in the same direction...toward the fairgrounds west of town in an open field. The June day was sunny and warm, the windows open to let in the air and sounds carried from the fairgrounds—the hum of voices, the moo, baa or whinny of animals, the occasional discordant musical note as if someone tuned up a violin. Too early for the dance but the billboard said there would be musical entertainment throughout the day.

She might have let Bo Stillwater believe she wasn’t interested in the activities but that wasn’t true. Her heart stirred with excitement. She would attend, pay her admission fee, throw a few coins at some games, even buy a treat. She’d enjoy herself for a few hours then hurry home. She hadn’t decided if she could spare the time to go to the dance but it did sound appealing. Even if she only watched one dance before she left.

With a final look in the mirror to make sure her hair remained neat, she donned her bonnet, grabbed her pocketbook and reached for the door handle as a knock sounded.

“Doc? I need to see the doctor.”

Her hand suspended inches from the door, she wondered if there had been an accident. Father had been called away to tend a sick family. Whatever the need, she would have to take care of it. She opened the door and stared at Bo. Her gaze riveted to his face in surprise, and then crying drew her attention to the cart beside him.

“Babies? What are you doing with babies?” Three of them all crying and looking purely miserable.

“I think they’re sick. They need to see the doctor.”

“Bring them in. Father is away but I’ll look at them.”

“They need a doctor.” He leaned to one side to glance into the house as if to make sure she wasn’t hiding her father. “When will he be back?”

“I’ll look at them,” she repeated.

“But they’re sick.”

Her spine stiffened. Seemed he shared the opinion of many of his gender: a woman couldn’t be a doctor. She’d once dreamed of becoming one but it was impossible with Mother and Amy to take care of. “I’ve been my father’s assistant for years. I’m perfectly capable of checking a baby.” Unless they had something other than the normal illnesses that little ones got. Like the time six-year-old Amy had come down with the grippe so severe they feared for her life. Louisa was only eleven but stayed at Father’s side helping to care for her sister while Father insisted Mother must stay away for fear she’d get the illness and her heart would not withstand the stress.

“I didn’t mean otherwise. It’s just...” He trailed off as if he couldn’t explain what he meant.

“Bring them in.” She threw back the door so he could push the cart inside. She bent over to look more closely at the babies. “We don’t see triplets often.” She read their names on their shirts and touched each of them as she greeted them. “Hello, Jasper, Eli and Theo.”

They were fevered and fussy. Theo reached his arms toward her. She lifted him and cradled him to her shoulder. “There, there, little man. We’ll fix you up in no time.”

Jasper, seeing his brother getting comfort, reached out his arms too.

Louisa grabbed a kitchen chair she’d placed by the window and sat down, putting Theo on one knee and lifting Jasper to the other. The babies were an armload. At first glance they appeared to be in good health. But they were fevered. She needed to speak to the mother about their age and how long they’d been sick.

Eli’s wails increased at being left alone.

“Can you pick him up?” she asked Bo, hiding a smile at his hesitation. Had he never held a baby? After all, if she were to believe the talk around town, he was twenty-nine years old. Plenty old enough to have married. She knew he did not now have a wife. Could he have loved and lost his wife and even a child? So many died in the last epidemic of grippe. Suddenly, and most unwelcomingly, she wondered about the man who took up the third baby. At first he seemed uncertain what to do but Eli knew and leaned his head against Bo’s chest. Bo relaxed and held the baby comfortably enough.

Louisa grinned openly as the baby’s cries softened. “He’s glad for someone to hold him. Where are the parents?” She glanced toward the open door, wondering if the parents had been delayed momentarily.

“Well, that’s the thing.” He seemed distracted by the tickle of the fine brown hair against his chin. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know where the parents are?”

He shook his head. “I don’t even know who they are.”

“Then why do you have the babies?”

For answer, he handed her a note and she read it. “They’re abandoned?” She pulled each baby close as waves of shock shuddered through her. Not yet nine months old and left to survive on their own. It was beyond comprehension.

He explained how he’d found them in the pie tent.

“I must find their mother before she disappears.” He leaned forward as if to put Eli back in the cart but Eli clung to him, sobbing his protest. Bo looked at Louisa, his eyes wide with appeal, the silvery color darkened with concern for these little ones. “I need to go but how are you going to manage?”

She wondered the same thing. But she would not let him think she couldn’t do it. “I’ll be okay. Put Eli down. I’ll take care of them.” Although she hated the idea, she would have to let two of them cry while she took care of the third.

Bo backed toward the door. He seemed to remember he wore his hat indoors and snatched it off.

She deemed Theo to be the most miserable baby and put Jasper into the cart so she could deal with Theo. He rubbed his ears and rolled his head back and forth. Earache. She could offer comfort measures for that. She realized Bo remained at the door and looked at him.

“I meant to come see you earlier.” Bo rubbed at his ear much like Theo did. Did he have an earache, as well?

“For what reason?”

“To ask you to reconsider and attend the fair. Perhaps you’re not aware of all the needs, but the money we raise is to provide funds for the Lone Star Cowboy League. I’m sure your father has seen how badly many of the people around here need help.”

Of course he had. She had, as well. The desperation of so many people pulled at her heart. Like the poor mother of these babies. He continued before she could think how to answer his assumption. “Perhaps it’s working out for the best that you weren’t planning to go. At least you won’t mind if I leave the babies with you until I locate the mother.”

She would have liked to refute him but the babies needed her attention and he needed to find their mother. “Things have a way of working out, don’t they?” She waved a hand to shoo him away. “You run along now. We’ll be fine.”

The door closed behind him and she sprang into action. Warm oil for Theo’s ears. Cool sponging for all three babies. A drink of water. Thankfully they drank well from a cup. A smile encircled her heart as she tended the babies. They were adorable...three look-alikes...tousled brown hair and brown eyes that followed her every move. She bent over each little boy and kissed the top of each head. Hopefully their mother would be found soon.

She picked up Eli and held him close, swaying and singing to him. The other two watched and listened, seeming to enjoy her sad little tune.

* * *

Bo stood stock-still in the middle of the street. She’d waved him away, dismissed him like he was a nuisance. It felt strangely unusual. Mostly the young ladies flocked after him, willingly paid for the privilege of a dance with him. Mothers vied for him to share a meal with their families so he could admire their marriageable-aged daughter. He was not interested in marriage, but to have someone turn down every opportunity to have his attention did tweak his interest. He shook his head, unable to decide if he should be offended or relieved.

He rubbed his chin. The baby’s hair had tickled him right there. Tender feelings had rushed to the top of his heart. A wee one in his arms stirred up a longing as deep as forever...a longing for a child and family of his own.

He shook his head to drive away the errant idea and silently renewed his vow. He would never have children. They deserved better than he could promise them. A shudder snaked across his shoulders at the fear, uncertainty and loathing that came with remembering his father. God, help me be true to my decision. No one deserves to endure what Brandon and I did.

There was one certain way to ensure that.

He would not marry.

More used to using the four feet of a horse to cover distance in a hurry than his own two, he broke into an awkward run and returned to the fairgrounds. The position of the sun informed him little time remained before he must judge the pies and even less time to find the missing mother.

He slowed measurably when he reached the grounds. The gates wouldn’t open for another hour and yet people crowded the area. Satisfaction warmed his heart. If everyone supported the fair like this, they would make a good deal of money. Enough? Only time would tell. What difference would it make if Louisa did not attend? She was but one woman. The price of one admission.

Yet it rankled that she showed so little interest in the affairs of the community.

He saw the sheriff, Jeb Fuller, just past the gate and called to him. Jeb needed to be notified about the babies and could help look for the mother.

Jeb jogged over and bent close to hear Bo’s story. “That’s sad. I’ll begin a search, but with people from all over the county, it will be difficult to find one woman, especially as you have no idea what she looks like.” He moved away slowly, pausing to look carefully at and speak to each woman he passed, clearly asking about the triplets. When they shook their heads, he moved on.

Bo continued on his way to the pie tent. He saw a familiar figure to his right and veered that direction. “Brandon,” he called to his twin. His look-alike waved and waited for Bo to join him.

“I thought you’d be judging the pies,” Brandon said.

“I’m on my way there now. But first...” He again related the story of the triplets. “If we can find the mother before she disappears, we can help her look after the babies.”

“I’ll start asking around. Where are they now?”

“At the doctor’s. His daughter is taking care of them.”

“Good. She seems a capable, no-nonsense person.”

“She refused to pay to dance with me.”

Brandon blinked. “I never thought you’d have to pay someone to dance with you.”

Laughing at his brother’s misunderstanding, he explained his idea for raising more money. “But Miss Clark refused to take part.”

Brandon’s eyes flashed amusement. “Sounds like someone’s pride is hurt.” He gave Bo a playful punch on his shoulder. “You’ll get over it.”

Bo grabbed his arm in fake pain. “Ma told you not to hit me.”

The two laughed at the memory of their childhood then parted ways—Brandon to look for a missing mother and Bo to the pie tent.

The two other judges waited impatiently. The church pianist, Constance Hickey, her red hair pulled back so tightly into her bun that her eyes could barely blink, had volunteered for the job. Except volunteered was too mild a word. She insisted that she knew pies like no one else and no contest would be fairly judged without her help. Standing beside her was banker George Henley, who had put up a cash prize for the winner.

One by one, they circled the entries, savoring each sample and rating it according to a complicated system Mrs. Hickey had come up with. Bo forced himself to concentrate on the task. Too many things vied for his thoughts—wondering how Louisa was managing with the babies, hoping that Brandon or Jeb found the missing mother, and overall the sad-happy memories of his mother, who made a pie for the three of them every time Father was away...an occurrence that happened far too seldom.

They narrowed the entries down to six possibilities. Both George and Bo made up their minds but Mrs. Hickey insisted the selection couldn’t be rushed.

“My reputation depends on being one hundred percent sure.”

Bo stuffed back the thought that her reputation stemmed from her propensity for gossip.

Finally she made her decision and the blue, red and yellow ribbons were attached.

Bo raced from the tent before they were done and hurried through the grounds. He found Brandon and Jeb near the front gate. “Find her?” he asked.

“We’ve asked throughout the crowd. No one saw a woman pushing a cart—or rather, many women were seen pushing some kind of conveyance. No one knows of triplets,” Jeb said. “We’d have heard if they were from the community.”

“What are you going to do?” Brandon asked as if finding the babies made them Bo’s responsibility.

“First thing we need to do is get this fair opened and then we need to call an emergency meeting of the league.” He went to the gate and held up his hand to signal he wanted people’s attention. It took a few minutes for the crowd to quiet.

“Welcome to the County Fair. As you all know, it’s to raise funds for the Lone Star Cowboy League, which was originally formed to bring ranchers together to help each other through troubled times. Since then our concerns have grown to include other families struggling to survive the drought. So open your purses wide and spend freely, but most of all, have a good time.” He stepped aside and let the gatekeepers take admission as the crowd filed in.

Bo remained close by, and as the members of the league passed, he informed them of the emergency meeting. “At the office tent in half an hour.”

Having informed all of them, Bo hurried about the grounds. If the mother was sick, where would she go? Somewhere she could rest. Maybe a place she could keep an eye on the babies. He squeezed his hands into fists. Imagine being so desperate you left three babies alone, not knowing when they’d be discovered or by whom. This was one of the reasons they’d started the Lone Star Cowboy League—to prevent people from doing desperate things because of desperate circumstances.

He passed women he didn’t know but they were always accompanied by family. Nowhere he looked did he find a woman alone and ill, and with no more time to search, he hurried to the meeting.

“Fight. Fight.”

Bo heard the chant and groaned. The fair had only begun and already a situation he didn’t care to deal with. He jogged around the corner of the livestock tent housing prize goats and pushed his way through the crowd of young people. He saw the combatants circling each other, fists up and scowls marring their faces. Peter Hill and Jamie Coleman. He should have guessed. The two families had been feuding long before he and Brandon arrived in the area four years ago. He wasn’t sure what the disagreement was about. Wasn’t even sure they knew, though he’d heard muttered words about some valuable family heirloom.

He stepped between the two young men and pressed his hands to the heaving chests. Twenty-year-old Peter Hill likely outweighed his opponent by fifty pounds of grit, muscle and raging anger. Jamie Coleman, a year younger, fair as autumn grass, bounced on the balls of his feet as he waited to get in a jab.

Bo didn’t even bother to ask about the disagreement. This pair found a hundred different reasons to start a fight. Or if not them, a couple of the younger boys. With three Coleman boys and three Hill boys, it seemed there was always a fight. Thankfully the girls resorted to insults and snubs. If there was a way to force the two widowed parents to work out their differences, perhaps the children would stop sparring, as well.

“I don’t want the fair ruined by the lot of you fighting. I want people to have fun and feel safe.” Bo waited until the two eased back before he lowered his hands. “Peter, why don’t you go over to the garden tent and see how your ma fared with her carrots. They looked mighty fine to me.”

Peter scowled at Jamie. “Don’t think this is over.” But he left.

Bo faced Jamie. “Find something else to do besides fight.”

“I didn’t start it.”

“Next time walk away.”

Jamie spun on his heel and did exactly that.

Bo sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. He could do without all these problems. And if he didn’t hurry he was going to be late for the meeting he’d called.

He returned to the main pathway between booths. People came from all over the county to display and sell their wares. He eyed the fine saddles in one booth and promised himself he’d come back for a closer look. Booth after booth revealed the abilities of the Texas people—fancy tooled leather harnesses, fine linen embroidered tablecloths. For a flash he thought of his mother. Wouldn’t she have liked one of those? Across from that booth Mrs. Longfeather showed her turquoise and silver jewelry and other Native crafts.

“The young bucks are restless,” she said in her soft voice.

He understood she referred to Jamie and Peter. “I should have given them a hard task to do so they wouldn’t have time for getting into trouble.”

“Some are born for trouble as the sparks fly upward. Others need the strike of the flint to start a fire.” She paused and studied him with her bottomless black eyes. “Still others turn from the fire, afraid of its burn, at the same time depriving themselves of its warmth.” Her study of him continued. Was she trying to tell him something? But she turned away and arranged a display of jewelry.

Bo hesitated. He wanted to know where she saw the Hills and the Colemans. Where she saw him. Except he didn’t. Like she’d pointed out, some men would deprive themselves of warmth in order to avoid the burn. And why he saw his father in the flames, he could not say. Shaking his head, he hurried on.

Before he arrived at the meeting tent, he stopped to speak to one of the boys he spent time with through the Young Ranchers program they’d started last year. “Would you run to the doctor’s house and ask Miss Clark to bring the babies here?”

The boy looked a little startled, then took off like a shot.

Bo ducked into the tent that served as a temporary office—meant mainly for lost and found children and items, a first-aid station, and to provide information. The members of the league were all there. Abe Sawyer and Gabe Dooley, both ranchers, had joined the original members. Bo glanced about, making eye contact with each of them before he began to speak.

“We have a situation.” He explained about the triplets. “We haven’t been able to find the mother, so in the meantime, we must make arrangements for these babies.”

Every one of them stared at him. He couldn’t say if they were shocked more by the fact of triplets in their midst, that the babies had been abandoned or the thought of asking someone to take on the care of three babies.

Lula May McKay, wife of Edmund, one of the three McKay brothers, and the only woman on the league, was the first to speak. “My heart goes out to this woman. I know what it’s like to feel so desperate.” She’d been a widow with five children to care for when Edmund found her and fell in love with her. He wrapped an arm about her shoulders and pulled her tight to his side. “I was fortunate enough to have Edmund come alongside me. We need to find her and let her know that we will help her.”

There came a murmur of agreement.

Bo nodded. This was what the league stood for...helping those in need.

Brandon had joined the meeting at Bo’s invitation and Brandon stepped forward. “If I may speak?”

The others grew quiet.

“Jeb and I have been asking around to no avail. The mother seems to have disappeared.”

Jeb stepped to Brandon’s side. “It can prove mighty hard to find someone who doesn’t want to be found in a crowd like what’s out there.” He tipped his head and they all nodded, the sounds from outside plenty loud enough to let them know the crowd’s large size.

Blustery Casper Magnuson spoke. “People don’t vanish into thin air. You’re the sheriff. You should be able to find her. Isn’t that what we pay you to do?”

Lula May waited for the protests at Casper’s remark to die down. “Where are the babies now?”

“I left them at the doctor’s to have them checked out.”

David McKay stepped forward to speak. “Are you telling us the babies have something wrong with them? Is that why the mother left them? Three sick babies is a lot of work.”

His sister-in-law chuckled. “Sometimes one child is a lot of work.” That brought gentle laughter from everyone at the reference to eight-year-old Maggie, who kept her father on his toes as he tried to keep her out of mischief.

Casper waved them to silence. “Three sick babies who aren’t even part of our community. I don’t see that we have any responsibility toward them. Send them to the orphanage at New Braunfels.”

All three of the McKay brothers spoke at once, protesting that idea.

The discussion grew louder and more discordant.

Bo tried to get control of the meeting but Casper was not about to be silenced.

The tent flap parted and Louisa pushed the cart full of babies into their midst. Her father followed.

Bo released his pent-up breath, relieved that the doctor had seen the babies. As quickly as it escaped, his breath rushed in and stalled. What if the doctor had bad news about the three little ones?

No one spoke. Even Casper stopped yelling as they all stared at the matching babies.

Whatever Louisa and the doctor had done for them, the babies were no longer crying and sat up in the cart, looking around the circle of strangers. Theo’s bottom lip quivered and tears pooled in his bottom eyelids. Eli stared unblinkingly and Jasper lifted a pudgy little hand as if to say hello.

Lula May was the first to recover. “They’re darling. Oh, Edmund, can we take them home?”

Edmund’s mouth worked but nothing came out. Lula May nudged him. “I’m joshing.” Bo thought she looked dead serious. “Of course we can’t take them. Our hands are full with our own family.”

Doc Clark cleared his throat. “These babies are sick. Nothing serious. Colds and ear infections, but I think it’s best if they stay with us until they’re healthy. That will give me more opportunity to assess their development, though from what I’ve seen, they are sturdy babies. Louisa can look after them.”

Bo watched Louisa for her reaction but her expression gave away nothing. “Are you okay with that, Miss Clark? I seem to recall you mentioning how busy you were.”

She shifted from smiling at the babies to frowning at him. “They need medical attention at the moment.”

He took that as her agreement to keep the babies for as long as they needed medical care and turned back to the others in the room. “We need to come up with a plan for when they’ve recovered.”

Casper crossed his arms to consider Louisa. “You should find yourself a husband. Then you could keep the triplets for good.” He muttered under his breath, “We should find a way to marry the spinster off.” He squinted at Bo. “Seems to me that you and—”

Bo saw the man’s intent and held up his hand to stop him from finishing his troublemaking statement about Bo and Louisa.

But if he thought he needed to protest Casper’s unkind remark about Louisa being a spinster, she soon proved she didn’t need Bo’s defense. She faced Casper with a steady gaze. “Mr. Magnuson, you have a wife and a home. You should keep the babies until their mother is found.”

Casper sputtered, not used to being brought up short. “I have four children. I can’t afford to feed three more mouths.”

“Three babies are too much for one family,” CJ Thorn said. The local rancher and his wife, Molly, raised his brother’s twin daughters as well as their baby son. “It takes a lot of expense and hard work to feed three more mouths, but if we only ask for people to take one baby, it might be manageable.”

Bo observed the three McKay brothers squirm and their faces grow hard as the merits of splitting up the babies were discussed.

David McKay leaped forward. “I strongly oppose having them separated.” He glanced at his brothers. “I know firsthand how painful it is to grow up knowing you have brothers but they aren’t part of your life. It wouldn’t be fair to do that to these little ones.”

The meeting grew quiet at the intensity of his speech.

“We’ll find a way to keep them together,” Lula May said, and it seemed she spoke for the others as no one voiced any disagreement.

“The Cowboy League could provide financial support to any family that takes the babies,” Bo pointed out, and the others nodded.

“That way we can keep them in the community.” CJ Thorn seemed to like the idea.

Bo realized that he and the others had decided the triplets belonged here.

“If Miss Clark can care for them until we find a more permanent arrangement, that would be great,” CJ continued.

“Yes, of course.”

Lula May sidled up to Louisa. “Won’t this mean you’ll miss the fair? I know how much you were looking forward to seeing all the displays.”

She was? Bo thought she had no interest in the activities.

Louisa shrugged and smiled. “Responsibilities before fun. Isn’t that so?”

Lula May lifted one shoulder in resignation. “It often is.”

The babies began to fuss. Louisa turned the cart toward the door. “I’ll take them home and care for them.”

Lula May stopped her. “Do you need help? I could...”

Louisa gave the woman a serene smile. “You stay and enjoy the fair. I can manage them.”

Bo watched her depart. She’d wanted to attend the fair. Had willingly given it up to tend the babies. Somehow that did not fit in with how he had judged her. He shook his head. He did not like being wrong and certainly didn’t like the feeling that he’d been faulty in his assessment.

He took a step after her, intending to follow and apologize. But for what? A wrong opinion?

Instead, he turned his thought back to the fair. Time to see how things were going.

Maybe he’d think of a way to ease his mind about Louisa Clark before the day was done.


Chapter Three (#ulink_aa1ecfa7-3173-5f7f-b2e1-c93a592f6e58)

Louisa rushed home with the babies, her mind whirling as fast and loud as the creaky wheels of the cart. Apart from knowing the triplets were miserable with their colds and sore ears, she savored the idea of three little ones to hold and comfort for a time. It was like having her sister, Amy, back in her care. She smiled. More like three Amys.

The meeting had gone well. She chuckled, causing the babies to look at her in surprise. Jasper grinned and gurgled, his discomfort momentarily forgotten.

She leaned over and whispered, “You want to know why I laughed? Okay, I’ll tell you but you must promise not to repeat it to anyone.” Jasper gurgled happily. Theo sucked his thumb and regarded her solemnly. Eli leaned against his two brothers, content to be with them.

Louisa’s heart expanded with a love so intense that for a moment, she couldn’t find room to fill her lungs. This must be how mothers felt when they saw their offspring. Then she remembered her promise to tell them her secret and she glanced about as if to make sure no one spied on them. “I know I surprised Mr. Bo Stillwater and it felt good. Yes indeed, it did.” How did he feel knowing he’d mistaken her refusal to sign up to dance with him as meaning she didn’t care about the fair? She shrugged. Likely he’d not given it a second thought.

She glanced over her shoulder, a little disappointed she wouldn’t get to attend, then turned back to the three chubby boys. “It’s worth it to be able to play with you for a few days.”

They reached the doctor’s residence and she pushed and lifted the cart up the steps and into the house. “I don’t know where you’re going to sleep. This cart isn’t big enough.” There was a sturdy metal crib in her father’s office but he’d need it if anyone brought in a sick baby. “Are you used to sleeping together?” She looked from one to the other. “You’re not going to tell me? Well, fine. I’ll figure it out myself.”

Theo’s bottom lip quivered. Louisa recognized it as the precursor to his crying. Once he started, all three would cry. “I’ll have something for you to eat in a moment. But please don’t cry. It’s hard on the ears.” She had left oatmeal simmering on the back of the stove and it was now well cooked, suitable for babies. Father suggested they be introduced to foods slowly until it could be determined if they were used to eating solids yet.

She poured milk into a cup. Eyed the two other cups she’d pulled from the cupboard. But she only had two hands and it took one to steady the baby and the other to hold the cup. She ignored the remaining cups. She’d go from baby to baby letting them drink. She started with Theo as he seemed the one who cried the easiest. Jasper bounced up and down, eager for his turn. Eli watched placidly, so she gave him the cup last.

She prepared the oatmeal, then sat them up in the cart and went from one mouth to the other feeding them. Before she made the round, the first mouth popped open, waiting. She laughed softly. “I feel like a mother bird.”

Theo’s cheeks grew flushed and he refused more food.

“Poor baby. Your fever has returned. And your ears are sore.”

All three of them grew flushed. How was she to sponge them at the same time? “You wait here. Don’t go anywhere.”

They sobbed and pulled at their ears. She dashed out the back door and grabbed the washtub off the nail on the wall. Thankfully the water pails were full. Otherwise how was she to get water and watch the babies at the same time? Her respect and sympathy for the ill mother grew by leaps and bounds.

She poured a few inches of tepid water into the square washtub and then stripped the boys of their cute little shirts. For a moment she hesitated. How was she to tell them apart without the shirts with their names on them? She studied them hard. They looked as alike as three peas but they acted differently. Theo was the shiest, cried the easiest and sucked his thumb. Eli was the most watchful of the three and seemed to react to what he saw around him. He liked being close to his brothers. Jasper was the friendliest. But just to be sure, she tied a different colored bit of yarn around each ankle.

Satisfied she could tell them apart, she sat them side by side in the tub, supported against the sides so they couldn’t fall, and as she splashed water over the babies to cool their fevered bodies, she sang a lullaby she’d once sung to Amy to soothe her.

Jasper laughed and batted at the water. Eli’s eyelids drooped and Theo sucked his thumb.

“Nap time.” But where were they to sleep? The cart was too small. They weren’t safe on a bed. They’d roll off or crawl off. That left the floor as the safest place. She dressed the babies and put them in the cart, then spread a thick quilt in the middle of the living room floor.

Eli was almost asleep and she put him down first. He opened his eyes, but as she laid Theo beside him, he snuggled close to his brother and closed his eyes again. She laid Jasper on the other side of Eli and soon the three of them slept.

She wandered to the open window to listen to the sound of music, cattle and many voices blended together. Seemed the fair was going well. The league would be able to add to their coffers. Disappointment stained her thoughts. She had been looking forward to seeing the many booths, listening to the fiddlers, buying a treat from one of the concessions. Truth was, she’d anticipated a few hours of fun. Squaring her shoulders, she turned from the window and watched the three little boys. A smile filled her heart and warmed her eyes. These three were every bit as much fun as a fair.

How long would they sleep? She had no idea. But she wasn’t prepared to leave them unattended and slipped to her room to get her Bible. She sat in the big armchair where she could keep an eye on the babies and opened the Bible. She stroked her fingers over the pages. Only eight years old when her mother presented it to her, she’d read it so often that it was now well-worn and much loved. The gold gilt had worn off the edges; a couple of pages were loose. Eventually she would have to get a new one, but giving up this one would be like losing a dear friend.

The book fell open to one of her favorite passages. Psalm eighteen. She read a couple of the verses that meant the most to her. “He delivered me because he delighted in me. It is God that girdeth me with strength and maketh my way perfect.” Sweet calming peace filled her soul. The way laid out before her required sacrifices but none that God couldn’t satisfy in other ways. Making sure Mother was happy and well cared for provided her with joy. Her glance went from the babies to the door of the room where Mother would sleep. Would taking care of the triplets mean she wouldn’t have the room ready for Mother’s arrival?

The details were in God’s almighty hands, so Louisa need not fret.

A footfall sounded on the outside step and she rushed to the door before anyone could knock or call out and wake her charges.

If they were looking for Father, she would send them to the fairgrounds, where he had stayed to take care of any injuries that might occur. She eased open the door, her finger pressed to her lips to signal the caller to quiet. Her hand dropped to her side as she looked into the silvery eyes of Bo Stillwater. “Is something wrong?” Why else would he come? She glanced over her shoulder. If Father needed her, who would stay with the babies?

He lifted a towel off the plate in his hand. “I brought you a piece of pie.” There were four slices. “I didn’t know which was your favorite, so you have a selection. Apple, raisin, blackberry or, my favorite, peach.”

“Oh, my.” Was that the best she could come up with? But his thoughtfulness left her practically speechless. Somehow she expected him to be enjoying the adulation of the many young ladies at the fair. Perhaps she’d misjudged him. “That’s very thoughtful of you. Will you come in and join me? We’ll have to be quiet.” She tipped her head to indicate the sleeping babies.

For answer, he tiptoed in and closed the door quietly behind him.

She crooked her finger to indicate he should follow her to the kitchen. They eased past the baby-covered quilt. She pointed to a chair and he sat while she took two small plates and two forks from the cupboard. “I love raisin.” She took that slice and pushed the peach one to a plate and handed it to him.

He thanked her. “I judged the pie contest.”

“Really? Who won?”

“A Mrs. Rawlings with her apple pie. She isn’t from this area.” He savored a bite of the peach pie. “Good but not as good as my ma used to make.”

“Your mother is dead?”

“She died when I was sixteen.” He ate his pie slowly, thoughtfully as if lost in memories.

“I’m sorry.” She meant to do everything in her power to keep her own mother alive for a good many more years.

“Me too.”

“And your father?”

“He passed away almost five years ago.”

She wondered at the harshness of his voice. “You must miss him a lot.”

“Not as much as you’d expect.” Seeing the surprise and curiosity in her study of him, he added, “He wasn’t a nice man.”

“I’m truly sorry to hear that.”

His hand paused halfway to his mouth with another bite of pie on his fork. “Not half as sorry as Brandon and I were to live with it.” He lowered his fork to his plate with the pie still there. “I’m sorry. I don’t usually grouse about my past. Forget I said anything.” A beat of regret, and then he tipped his head toward her plate. “You haven’t tasted it yet.”

She took a bite, chewed slowly and let the flavors lie on her tongue a moment before she swallowed.

“How is it?” he asked.

“A little too sweet for my taste, but then, I’m somewhat of a pie judge myself.”

He leaned forward. “How’s that?”

She chuckled softly. “I’ve taken care of my mother and sister, who is five years younger than me, and run the house since I was twelve years old. Of course, we had a part-time housekeeper, as well.” Father had insisted she attend classes. Not that Louisa objected. At that point she’d still harbored her dream to become a doctor. “Her name was Mrs. Keaton and she taught me how to bake all sorts of things. Year after year, her pies won the blue ribbon at the local fair, so you might say I had an excellent teacher.”

“You would have liked my ma, then. She was an excellent pie baker.” He cleaned his plate. “Not that we had pie very often.”

That seemed a curious remark. “Why is that?”

“Ma saved it for special occasions.”

A note of sadness in his voice made her ask, “What constituted a special occasion?”

He gave a laugh totally devoid of humor. “Father being away.”

She didn’t need any more details to understand Bo and Brandon had suffered under their father. How sad. She glanced past him to the sleeping babies. She couldn’t imagine treating them poorly or standing by while someone else did. Though they might well grow up to be mischievous and need a firm hand. Who would provide it for them?

“Sorry. Didn’t I just say I wasn’t going to bemoan my past?”

“Seems one’s past is a building block of one’s present and perhaps one’s future.” When had she grown so philosophical? She expected him to laugh but he only raised his eyebrows.

“That makes me curious. What shape does your past building block take?”

“Well, I have always had a loving family, so I count myself fortunate.”

“No suitors?”

This conversation was getting far too personal. After Wes she had no time or inclination for courting. His painful rejection had taught her a valuable lesson. His words still echoed in her head. Look in the mirror, honey. You aren’t worth waiting for. “Care for another piece of pie?”

“No, thanks. Save them for yourself to eat later.”

She felt the steady watchfulness of his unusually colored eyes and looked everywhere but at him. He did not need to know the details of her personal life. She was about to ask him how the fair was going...hoping he would understand it as a gentle hint to return to the grounds, when one of the babies fussed. Before she could get to her feet, all three cried.

She rushed into the room to rescue them. Bo followed on her heels but stood back, looking both lost and afraid. Afraid? Bo Stillwater? How could that be? But she didn’t have time to think of anything but crying babies. She scooped up Theo first, realizing he would become upset faster than his brothers. But how could she comfort him and tend to the other two?

Bo was there. She’d take advantage of another set of arms. “Could you hold him?”

He stepped back. “You saw me earlier. I don’t know anything about babies.”

“No time like the present to correct that. Sit there.” She indicated the armchair.

He sat, or rather, he perched on the edge of the cushion. The volume of the crying intensified.

“Sit back.” He barely got himself pushed to the back of the chair before she put Theo on his lap. He looked uncomfortable, but she needed his help so ignored it. She grabbed his hand and pulled his arm around the baby.

Theo shuddered a sob and then gave Bo a crooked, watery-eyed grin.

Bo grinned back.

Louisa hurried to the other two. Eli wriggled away and she caught him halfway across the floor, scooped him up and perched him on Bo’s other knee. Eli ducked his head, shy before this big man, but Theo jabbered at his brother and they smiled at each other.

Now to take care of Jasper. She picked him up, crooning a comforting tune, but he continued to fuss, rubbing his ears. “Time to put some drops in there, isn’t it?” She headed for the kitchen to prepare the oil but stopped in the doorway. “Can you take care of those two while I tend Jasper’s ears?”

“It seems I have no choice.”

She couldn’t tell if it was regret or something else that deepened his voice. Nor did she have time to dwell on it. She rushed about putting warm oil in Jasper’s ears, then returned to the other room. Took Theo and left Jasper in his place. She tended his ears as well, then gave him back to Bo and tended Theo. None of them seemed fevered at the moment. Perhaps they were over the worst.

She was happy about that, except once they were better, the babies would go to a home. As they should. It was purely selfish on her part to want to keep them longer. “No sign of the mother?”

“We’re still looking.”

“Have you arranged a home for them until you find her?” she asked as she returned to the living room. With Jasper perched on her hip, she gathered up the quilt and draped it over the sofa.

“Not yet. As everyone says, three babies is a lot.”

She looked at the two sitting on his knee, touching each other’s fingers and smiling. Jasper sat happily enough on her hip. “I don’t know. At the moment, it looks like exactly the right amount.” She studied him openly. “For a man with no experience, you seem to have a knack for this. You’ll make a good father.”

He shook his head vehemently. “No. Fatherhood is not for me.”

“Why ever not?” He was tall, broad shouldered, good-looking, had the attention of all the young ladies in the community. Seemed he had everything needed to find a perfect mate and raise a bunch of sweet little Stillwater offspring. Heat raced up her throat at the wayward trail her thoughts had taken.

“I fear I would turn out to be like my father.”

She blinked twice. Thankfully he wasn’t looking at her so wouldn’t have cause to think she looked like a startled rabbit. “I’ve only been here a short time but I have certainly not seen or heard anything to that effect.”

“Good. Then what I’m doing is working.” He sat the babies on the floor and strode to the door. “I must get back to the fair.” He paused as if realizing that he left her to manage three babies on her own.

Not that she couldn’t do it. But it had been nice to not feel so alone and overwhelmed. The poor mother. How had she coped? “I hope you can find their mother.”

“I’ll do my best.” Still he hesitated. “Will you be able to manage them?”

Her throat tightened. No one ever asked if she could handle her responsibilities. And she’d never suggested to anyone that she couldn’t. Her opinion of him shifted a little more to the right as she waved him goodbye.

* * *

Words and images battered the inside of Bo’s head as he hurried away. Eating pie. All safe and homey. Like it had been with Ma. Watching Louisa jostle a baby on her hip. Were women born knowing how to comfort infants, how to carry them? How to dole out gentle touches? He looked at the hand she had drawn around little Theo.

She didn’t look like Ma. She didn’t sound like her and yet something about her reminded him of his mother. And not only because she knew how to bake a pie, though he had no reason to believe it so except her own words.

You’ll make a good father. If only he could believe it possible. Holding those babies had him wishing for things beyond his reach.

His long, hurried strides took him to the fairgrounds and he welcomed the diversion from his tangled thoughts.

He had but one goal in mind—make this fair as successful as possible. And thus raise enough funds to meet the needs. And with three babies to care for until they found their mother, the needs had grown.

What if they never found the mother? The sheriff didn’t seem to be overly optimistic that they would.

If they didn’t, then someone would have to take them on permanently. He smiled as he thought of how much fun it would be to see those three babies grow into little boys and then young men. But it wouldn’t be him doing that job.

He paused to speak to the gatekeeper. “How is attendance?”

“Beyond expectations, I’d say. Jeb took away a bag of cash an hour ago.”

“Great to hear.” The sheriff had been delegated to take the money to the bank to have it kept in the safe.

He continued on his way, and as he rounded the corner of a tent, stepping over the rope fastened to the tent peg, he noticed a young boy of six or seven huddled next to the canvas, sobbing his heart out. “What’s wrong?”

“I—I losted my mama and papa.”

Being careful not to make the boy feel threatened, he squatted down. “Do you want me to help you find them?”

The boy scrubbed away the tears and nodded.

Bo held out his hand and led him toward the office tent, expecting the parents would go there to report their missing child. Indeed, as he led the boy inside, a woman let out a cry and raced over to enfold her son. The father, although less demonstrative, wrapped his arms around them both. “Thank you,” he said to Bo.

“I was scared,” the boy sobbed. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

The man turned the boy to face him. “If you are ever lost I will find you. I promise.”

The boy leaned into his father’s shoulder.

Bo stepped outside the tent. That was how a child should feel with his father—safe and certain. Unfortunately, that was the ideal but not the reality for many.

He heard raucous laughter and hooting toward the livestock tents and hustled through the crowd toward the sound. He soon saw what amused everyone and stood back to watch a boy not yet man trying to control a goat. Seemed it would be easy to pull the lead rope and drag the animal back inside, but if the animal thought she was going to be dragged, she raced toward the young fella and he jumped out of the way to keep from being bunted.

Bo was about to step in and lend a hand when an older man emerged from the tent and strode toward the struggling pair. He grabbed the goat around the neck and led her bleating and protesting inside while the relieved younger man hurried after him.

Another example of a good father. Was God sending them as reminders that he hadn’t known that kind of fathering? That he had his father’s blood flowing through his veins and would most certainly fail to be the kind of father a child deserved?

“Thief. Thief. Stop that man.” He jerked around in time to see a figure dart out of sight and like many others, joined in the chase. Jeb came around the corner, alerted by the call. He reached out and caught the culprit.

It was but a young boy...maybe twelve or thirteen.

“Pa?” He looked around for his father.

Bo watched a man duck back, prepared to let his boy stand on his own. Perhaps even had sent the boy to snatch the money, knowing it would go easier with a youngster. In fact, Jeb dragged him back to the leathersmith display and had him return the money, then let him go with a warning.

If Bo needed any evidence to prove the evil of bad fathering, this was it and he strode away. The rest of the afternoon sped away quickly as he spoke to each vendor and visited with his friends and neighbors. It was especially heartening to see Molly and CJ Thorn with their baby son, Isaac. They had married recently, brought together by the matchmaking efforts of CJ’s twin nieces, who giggled as they chased after a bit of red bunting. He wished them nothing but happiness in their life together.

Several times young ladies came up to him and gave a dime in exchange for a dance with him on Saturday night. There was one woman who did not offer him a dime. Louisa. Of course, she was too busy, but still, he wished it otherwise.

He paused to order coffee and two cookies at a booth and deposit the required coins. “How are sales?” he asked Mrs. Carson, who was taking her turn running the booth.

“Brisk.” She seemed pleased.

Finished with his coffee, he returned his cup and turned in time to see eighteen-year-old Annie Hill and nineteen-year-old Jamie Coleman slip behind a tent. So that was the way it was. Perhaps it would be the means to ending the feud between their families. His jaw tightened. More than likely it would simply increase the tension in the feud.

The shadows lengthened and people began to drift away except for those who would stay and watch the animals. The fair was over for the first day.

Jeb called him over and together they went from booth to booth collecting the money that would go to the league. Bo’s grin widened with every stop. “We’ve done much better than I could have hoped and two more days to go.”

As they left the grounds with the heavy money bag, Bo noticed a man watching them from the protection of the trees and pointed him out to Jeb. “He’s the father of the lad you caught stealing.”

Jeb studied the man carefully. “I’ll be keeping an eye on him.”

“Let’s get this money into the safe.” They hurried to the bank, where George Henley waited to lock it up for the night.

Bo let out a relieved sigh when the safe closed and George locked it. His tension eased marginally as George double-checked the locks on the front door and the windows then let them out the back and locked it securely.

The worst thing Bo could imagine was having that money stolen.

“It’s safe,” George assured him.

“I’ll post a guard to make sure,” Jeb said.

“I’ll stay here until you get someone.” Bo had no intention of letting anyone try to get into the bank even if they weren’t able to crack the safe.

“You don’t have a gun.”

George pulled a derringer from his side pocket and handed it to Bo. “It’s not much but it’s all I have.”

“I’ll be back shortly.” Jeb trotted away.

George paused a moment then leisurely walked away...as if to communicate to anyone watching that he had no concerns.

Bo wished he felt half as confident. He palmed the little gun and remained alert to every sound and movement. There was no sign of the man he believed to be a danger, but still he did not relax until Jeb returned with two men carrying rifles and wearing sidearms. One stood at the front door, the other at the back. Even then Bo hesitated to leave them.

Jeb gave him a little push. “Trust us to do our job.”

“Put that way...” He made his way around to the front of the building and stared up and down Main Street. Lights glowed in some of the businesses as if the owners had last-minute things to do. He followed the same path he had yesterday in his desire to catch up to Louisa and convince her to be involved in the fair.

His steps slowed. Was that only yesterday? It seemed much longer ago.

He reached the doctor’s house and stood on the sidewalk studying it. How was Louisa doing with the triplets? Were the babies feeling any better? Was it too late to go to the door and ask?

A lamp burned inside. He crossed the street and hesitated in front of the house.

A demanding cry reached his ears and he made up his mind. She might well need someone to help her. He rapped on the door and waited. His toe nudged something and he bent to pick up three worn toys—a stuffed bear, a stuffed rabbit and a stuffed cat. How odd. Who would have dropped the toys there?

He glanced up and down the street but saw no one. At that moment, Louisa opened the door holding one squalling baby. Another cried from behind her.

He handed her the toys. “Could you use an extra pair of arms?” He might not be the sort of man to be a good father, but he could at least help Louisa care for the babies until further arrangements were made.


Chapter Four (#ulink_10d218fa-0bba-5b33-938b-fa5e69d00d2c)

Louisa couldn’t remember ever being so relieved to see someone come to the door. Father had been home a couple of hours ago but was called away again almost immediately. She struggled alone trying to cope with the babies growing increasingly fussy. Now Bo was here and she meant to take advantage of another pair of hands. She grabbed his arm and dragged him inside. “They’re all crying at once.” She handed him Theo. “Sit in the big chair and hold Jasper too.” Thankfully he obeyed her request without comment. Likely he took in her ruffled appearance, her hair in untidy strands, and decided she needed rescuing. She hurried to explain her desperation. “They’ve napped. They’ve eaten and consumed their milk. I’ve treated their earaches and sponged them to take down their fevers, but they are more and more unhappy. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.” She’d wiped noses and changed diapers. She’d sung. Most of all, she felt like joining them in a good cry.

He jostled the two babies on his knees as she put more warm oil in Eli’s ears. He wailed a protest.

“What makes babies unhappy?”

“Being sick. Having earaches.”

“What else? Maybe missing their mama?”

She stared at him. How had he seen the problem so clearly? “Of course. The poor little mites.” Every bit of fatigue and frustration ended. “Maybe these little toys you brought will comfort them.” She handed one to each of them. Only Jasper took the offered toy.

“I didn’t bring them. They were on the step. I thought maybe you dropped them or—” He bolted to his feet, a baby in each arm. “Their mother? I must look. You sit and hold them while I try and find her.” They traded places and she sat with the three babies squirming and sobbing in her lap.

As he dashed out the door, she sang to the babies. “Safe in the arms of Jesus.”

A little later, he tapped on the door and reentered. Eli slept but the other two continued to fuss. Seeing that Louisa had made a bed for them on the floor again, he took Eli from her arms, laid him down and covered him with a light sheet. Then he took Jasper and left Theo with Louisa.

“They seem to like my singing,” Louisa said somewhat apologetically.

“Then sing.”

She cleared her throat and began the song again. “‘Safe in the arms of Jesus.’”

“Good choice.” He grinned at her then joined his voice to hers, his deep and rich, like finest chocolate, and even the fussing boys grew quiet as if they wanted to hear him better.

Soon the two babies slept in their arms.

Louisa didn’t want to put Theo down. Didn’t want to end this moment of sweet harmony. Bo made no move toward putting Jasper down. Perhaps he too felt the stir of something peaceful between them.

“How was the fair?” she asked, her voice low so she wouldn’t disturb the sleeping baby in her arms.

“A good turnout. We brought in more than I expected. That’s a good thing. Seems we’ll need more money than we originally thought.” He inclined his head toward the babies.

“How sad that a woman feels she has to give up on her offspring.” Though her note suggested she expected to die. If they could find her, perhaps they could aid her so she would live.

He nodded. “But an unselfish act, wouldn’t you say. I’m sure it was extremely hard for her but she loved them enough to do what she thought was best for them.”

Louisa understood about sacrifices for the sake of love. “Love is a powerful compeller.”

“I saw it in action today.” He told her about a lost boy being reunited with his parents and an older boy helped by his kind father. “Then to keep things in balance there was this other man.” A man who appeared to send his son to commit a crime then to abandon him when he was caught. “It reminded me so much of my father. Not that my father was involved in crime. Oh, no. He was an upright citizen with a successful business. All I can say is he must have treated his employees and customers better than he treated his family.” He shifted Jasper. “I find that odd. Shouldn’t those in your family deserve the best you have to give?”

“I certainly believe that.”

He studied her across the room, his pale eyes catching the lamplight and holding it.

She wanted to say more. Wanted to learn more about him. Tell him about her family. But again, she couldn’t find the words.

The door eased open and Father entered the house, smiling when he saw the triplets all asleep. “Bo, it’s good to see you helping.” He smiled at the baby sleeping on Bo’s lap then turned to Louisa. “Has their fever stayed down?”

“It’s been two hours since it last spiked.”

“Good. Good. Let’s pray it lasts.”

Louisa’s conscience stung. She’d been so preoccupied she hadn’t thought to pray for the babies since earlier in the day.

A quiet knock came on the door. Father opened it to Brandon Stillwater.

“I thought I would check on the triplets and see if there is anything they need.” He glanced about the room at one curled up on the floor, another in Louisa’s lap and the third sleeping in Bo’s arms and chuckled. “Looks real good on you, brother.”

“Don’t be thinking I’ll do something foolish. You know how I feel about this.” His glance included the babies and Louisa.

Oh, yes, he included her. Not that he needed to. She was no more interested in marriage and family and him than he was in her and domesticity. She eased to her feet and lowered Theo to the quilt beside Eli, then lifted Jasper from Bo’s arms, doing her best not to touch the man but failing. Her hand slid across his chest, feeling the strength and warmth. Her arm brushed his shoulder. And her heart reacted with a kick against her ribs. She ignored her reactions and put Jasper down beside his brothers. She stood over them, smiling at how peaceful and sweet they were.

Bo and Brandon stood on either side of her, fencing her in so she couldn’t escape. Escape? From what? She knew what she was—her mother’s caregiver—and who—the doctor’s spinster daughter. The plain one. But she was at peace with her role in life. The role God assigned for her. Except looking after the babies and sharing their care, even for a few minutes with Bo, triggered a deep maternal longing.

“I’ve heard there is nothing more peaceful than a sleeping baby,” Brandon said. “And here we have it in threes.”

Father stood to one side. “I hope they stay that peaceful throughout the night and their fevers don’t return.”

“Why don’t we pray for that?” Brandon had his hat in hand and held it to his chest. “Father God, You see here these three little ones. We trust You have sent them to us for a reason. Help them get well. Help them sleep well.”

Bo didn’t wait for his brother to finish. “Help us find their mother and be able to help her. And may the fair be a success.”

“And may Your name be honored. Amen.”

Louisa realized the two men finished each other’s speech and likely their thoughts. Wouldn’t it be fun to see the same thing, only with three little boys? Even now they interacted among themselves with a unity she found endearing.

Bo and Brandon stepped toward the door in unison. “We bid you good-night,” they said as one. And in matching movements placed their hats upon their heads as they left the house.

Louisa grinned. “Do you suppose they know their actions are like mirrors of each other?”

Father chuckled. “I don’t suppose they do.” He looked at her temporary arrangement for the triplets’ bed. “Will they be okay here on their own for the night?”

“I plan to sleep on the sofa so I can keep a watch on them.” They were able to scoot around a bit but hadn’t moved much so far because they weren’t feeling well. No doubt once they felt better that would change. It would be a challenge to keep them safely corralled.

That was a problem she’d deal with when the time came and count herself blessed for the little time they were with her. She covered a huge yawn.

Father chuckled. “I can see you’re tired. I’m off to bed. I hope they sleep for you. Good night, daughter.” He kissed her on her cheek and retired to his room closest to the clinic area off the kitchen.

She didn’t move for a moment as she looked toward the room not yet ready for Mother. Somehow she must manage to tend to that job as well as care for the triplets. A smile lifted the corners of her mouth. The room could wait. For now she would enjoy having some babies to care for.

She prepared for bed, careful not to make any noise and disturb the peaceful babies. With a pillow for her head and quilt for cover, she got as comfortable as she could on the sofa. It had been a busy day and her muscles welcomed the chance to relax.

Sleep came softly, filled with dreams of three little boys toddling about, laughing at each other and running to her for comfort. Even in her dream she knew it wasn’t possible but the dream was sweet, nevertheless.

A sharp cry wakened her and she looked about, disoriented. Then remembrance flooded back and she bolted upright. One of the triplets was crying. If she could get to him in time, she might prevent him from waking the others.

Even as she struggled to her feet, a second voice joined the first. By the time she lit the lamp, all three fussed.

One sounded hoarse. She bent close. Theo struggled to breathe. The other two coughed. They had grown worse. She gathered Theo into her arms. “Poor little boy.” She rubbed his back and spoke comfortingly to him.

The other two lay at her feet, coughing and miserable.

She sat on the floor, her back to the sofa, cradling the babies around her. She propped them up on pillows so they could breathe easier but Theo’s air whistled in and out. He needed steam, but when she tried to push to her feet, they all protested and she sank back.

Father slept through it all, for which she was grateful. His nights were often disturbed and cut short by calls.

The sound of Theo’s lungs working so hard grew more intense. She needed to boil water but she didn’t have enough hands. If she went out of their sight, they would panic, making it even more difficult for them to breathe.

Lord, help me. She should have sent for Annie but the girl was so excited about going to the fair that Louisa didn’t want to spoil her fun. In fact, she hated to ask anyone to give up time at the fair.

Theo coughed and gagged. He struggled to suck in air.

A dark wave rushed through Louisa. Don’t die. Don’t die. Please, God, help me.

Relying solely on instinct and experience as the doctor’s daughter, she flipped him over and patted his back. He coughed and coughed until she thought he would surely cough out his lungs. And then he sucked in a whistling breath and her own lungs gasped in air.

She could not delay any longer. She must steam Theo—all of them—and ignoring the tortured cries of Jasper and Eli, she perched Theo on her hip as she hurried to the kitchen, built up the fire and filled the kettle.

How would she get steam to each of them? Normally she would have built a tent out of sheets, but if she disappeared from sight to fetch them, the babies would get even more upset. She grabbed the nearest thing that would work—a linen tablecloth. Placing a pot of steaming water on a chair where she could make sure the triplets couldn’t touch it, she sat on the floor, gathered them to her knees and draped the cloth over them all, her head forming one tent pole, the back of the chair, another. Steam filled the small area. The moisture dampened her pores, and within minutes, the babies’ breathing eased.

She remained there, closeting them into a cocoon of moisture. The water cooled but inside the tent the air continued to be warm. The babies coughed, but they didn’t choke.

Theo began to whistle again with each breath. Knowing she couldn’t leave it so long this time, she folded back the cloth and did her best to slip away from the babies. They fussed at being disturbed but she had no choice and repeated the procedure.

Even when the triplets slept, she dare not let herself fall asleep for fear she wouldn’t hear a change in their breathing soon enough.

Oh, for morning. Maybe some good soul would appear to help her. Finally the first pink rays of sunrise colored the eastern sky. Father rose, but at the sound of someone in the waiting room, he immediately left. “I’ll see who it is.” A moment later, he stuck his head back in the room. “A man has been seriously injured in a fall. I must attend him. Will you be okay?”

She’d managed the babies all night. “I’ll be fine.” But as he left she realized how alone she was.

Who would help her? She pictured Bo with babies on his knee. They had settled for him. But he would assume they were in her capable hands and turn his feet toward the fair. Already she could hear sounds of the animals coming to life and the people who had camped nearby awakening and calling to each other. The scent of their campfires teased her nose.

The babies stirred. Theo breathed easier but Eli did not.

She abandoned them long enough to get dressed and boil more water. They protested at her departure but she had no choice even though their crying further compromised their ability to get in enough air.

She desperately needed another pair of hands. Lord, please put it on someone’s heart to stop by and offer help. Maybe Brandon would check on the babies and she could ask him to send Annie.

It wasn’t Annie she wanted to show up or Brandon she wanted to knock on the door and offer to help. It was his brother. But she understood that Bo had no reason to call. He had other things on his mind that precluded Louisa. Too late, she reminded herself she should have thought the triplets not herself.

* * *

Leaving his capable foreman Clint in charge of the ranch, Bo left early for town, anxious to supervise day two of the fair. His heart overflowed with gratitude for the success of day one. Peaceful with the knowledge of how well the day had gone, he’d expected to sleep soundly, but a riot of images troubled his rest. A man sneaking into the bank and finding the safe left open. The money gone. Another scene of wind blowing away the tents and leaving nothing but the shivering figure of a lone woman. Mixed feelings as he realized it was the mother of the triplets. Three babies struggling to climb into his lap. Memory of the latter dream brought a smile to his lips.

There was something mighty appealing about the idea.

A hard frown quickly replaced the smile. He would never be a father. He couldn’t trust himself to be what a child deserved.

He leaned forward in anticipation as he approached Little Horn. Families and groups of people camped along the side of the river and in the shelter of the trees, staying the entire three days of the fair. Everyone moved about, preparing breakfast and visiting with those around them.

Bo waved a greeting to those he passed, happy to see how many stayed for the second and, hopefully, the third day. He didn’t stop even though several invited him to join them for coffee or breakfast.

Something urgent pressed to his mind and he rode directly to the bank. Two men—different than the two from last night—held their positions, one at the back and one at the front of the building. Both waved to him. The man at the front called, “Everything is as it should be.”

Those words sang a refrain in his head as he continued on his way to the fairgrounds. Again, people were up and about, feeding their animals and taking care of business. No tents had blown away. None had fallen down. Edmund McKay rode over to his side. He was a responsible rancher, a founding member of the Lone Star Cowboy League. He’d recently married Lula May, a widow with several children. It appeared the man had found happiness with the newly-acquired family. Bo wished him all the best but wouldn’t allow himself to think he’d like the same things.

“See you’re checking on things,” the man said.

“See you are too.” They grinned at each other.

Edmund’s brother David joined them in time to overhear their remarks. “How are the babies?” he asked.

“I’m headed that way to check on them now,” Bo answered. “No one has heard anything about the mother?”

The sheriff sauntered over. “I asked around. She had to arrive by some means, so I asked Mr. Crenshaw at the train station if he’d noticed anything unusual. He chuckled and said with so many people coming and going about, all he took note of was whether or not they had a ticket.” Jeb shook his head. “He wasn’t any help.”

Bo thought of how much he and Brandon had relied on their mother’s love and care. It had gone a long way to balancing out the way their father treated them. He wished the same steady presence for the triplets. “I sure wish we could find her.”

“We’ll keep looking,” Jeb reassured him before he patted Bo’s horse and moved on.

Bo moved on as well, heading down the street toward the doctor’s house. Everything as it should be. The words sang through his head again. When he realized he thought of Louisa and the babies in the same song, he silenced it. He would check on the triplets. Only out of concern for their well-being. Not because he enjoyed the warmth of their little bodies against his chest or because he liked the way they accepted him. And most definitely not because watching Louisa with them soothed his soul. No, it was simply his duty to make sure they were okay. When people asked him about them he wanted to be able to answer them with the latest information.

He arrived and took his time draping the reins over the post and looking about as if taking stock of the early morning activities. Anyone observing would come to the conclusion he wasn’t in a hurry to see the occupants of the house before him. He wanted to convince himself of the same.

He sauntered casually up the steps and rapped on the door.

Louisa threw back the door, grabbed him and pulled him in. She held Eli, the baby’s eyes glassy, his nose running.

The other two wailed at being left. He took in the rumpled quilt and white sheet on the floor. The scattering of pillows. The wooden-back chair in the middle of the room. A very marked contrast to the peaceful scene of last night.

“You need some help?” He didn’t wait for her answer but went to the big chair and pulled the pair from the floor to his knees.

Louisa stood in the middle of the room. Dark shadows curled below her brown eyes. Eyes that had a hollowed-out look to them.

“A rough night?”

She scraped a hand over her brown hair. “I know I look a mess.”

She certainly looked worn-out and frazzled but a mess? No. There was something appealing about her looks...like a woman who put the needs of the triplets ahead of her own. “You look like a woman who spent a difficult night with three babies.” How would she react to that observation? It didn’t sound complimentary though in his mind, it was.

Her chuckle made him blink.

“If you intended that to make me feel better then thank you, but I have to tell you it missed the mark.”

He grinned at her. “Believe me, it was meant as a compliment.”

Her gaze searched his. “How is that?”

No reasonable explanation came to mind but he did the best he could. “To see you willing to give of yourself for these little fellows...well, it reminds me of my own mother.”

A sweet expression smoothed her face. “That’s a very nice thing to say.” She sat in the chair facing him and lifted Eli to her shoulder, patting his back.

On his knee, Jasper and Theo seemed content to lean listlessly against him. “I thought they were on the mend.”

“All three of them developed coughs in the night. They took turns having a croup attack.” She leaned her head against the back of the chair. “I think they’re improving this morning.” Slowly her gaze came to his, full of warmth. “Now that you’ve compared me to your mother, I think I deserve to hear more about her.”

He shifted to accommodate the restless babies. “She was the most patient woman. She tried to protect us from our father by sending us to the nurse as soon as he came home, but Father knew that’s what she did, so when we turned seven he said we no longer needed a nurse. That’s when we really got to see him for what he was. Before that whenever we saw him and Mother together she smiled and looked happy. But we soon learned it wasn’t real. She tried her best to hide how hurt she was but she couldn’t all the time. He would tell her she was useless. Nothing but a pretty useless ornament. She’d never be able to survive without him. So often she was reduced to tears.” He stopped speaking as his throat tightened. He’d never before told anyone how he’d felt but now the words poured forth. “I wanted to protect her but soon learned if I intervened it only made things worse for her. I can’t tell you how often I was ashamed because I couldn’t help her.” His insides grew brittle as he recalled the cruel words and taunts. “He tried to turn Brandon and me against each other but he couldn’t succeed.”

She shifted Eli to her other shoulder. “I’m so sorry. No one should have to endure such treatment.” Her eyes softened around the edges so that she looked like she smiled although her mouth did not curve. There was something soft about the way she held her lips. As if comfort came naturally to her. Perhaps it was the product of being a doctor’s daughter.

Something about that look, whether it be sympathy or pity, he couldn’t say, but it dripped into his heart like honey. He didn’t even try to reason why he should think such a thing, though perhaps it was because she didn’t judge or condemn or offer solutions. Merely said it shouldn’t have happened. “I couldn’t agree more,” he said after a moment of consideration.

“You said she died when you and your brother were sixteen. What happened after that? Did you boys leave home?”

“We both thought of it and discussed plans. But one thing stopped us.”

“Tell me what it was.”

“Our mother.”

She blinked. “But... I don’t understand.”

“We stayed to honor her and the sacrifices she’d made for us.” He could see the confusion in Louisa’s eyes and continued with an explanation. “I remember early on when we first realized how cruel Father was. I thought she should leave. She told me she would never do so because he would not let her have her boys. She would suffer any kind of agony to be with us. Brandon cried at her answer. I squished my fists into balls and told her I would never stay if it wasn’t for her. She held me and told me to remember I was responsible for my actions, not his. And God said we should honor our parents. She eventually convinced me that I would be happier doing things God’s way rather than my own. It’s why we stayed.”

“That’s very decent of you.”

He shrugged. “We both knew it was what both God and Mother would want.”




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