The Cowboy's Triplets (17 page)

Pete bristled, stepping in front of Bode Jenkins and his caregiver. “Hello, Sabrina,” Pete said politely. To the man standing next to her, carrying an umbrella he used as a walking stick, Pete said, “To what do we owe the honor of this unexpected visit, Jenkins?”

Bode grinned at him. Pete told himself no new father took a swing at visitors. He held his fire.

“Your folks mentioned you'd had your babies, Jackie,” Bode said, ignoring Pete. “I come bearing gifts.” He handed her some flowers, beautiful pink tulips in a vase, which she had set on the nightstand.

Pete glanced at Sabrina. She shrugged at him, clearly not aware of why Bode had had her drive him to see Jackie. Every protective instinct Pete possessed roared to life. “You've given your gift, now shove off, Jenkins.”

“Have a seat, Sabrina,” Bode told his caregiver after Sabrina had hugged Jackie, then he sat down himself. “Pete, I'm here to make you an offer you can't refuse.”

“Try me.”

Bode laughed. “Don't be so hasty, son. You've got three daughters to think about. They're tiny now, but one day they'll need a place to bring their friends. And later, their dates.” He smiled at Jackie. “You'd be surprised how time flies.”

“It's not flying now because you're still here.” Pete frowned. “What the hell do you want, Jenkins?”

Bode stretched out his legs, glancing at Sabrina as if they shared a secret. “I'm proposing to sell you five acres of your ranch, Callahan. You can build a house there that'll fit this brood you've acquired.” He smiled at Jackie. “A man needs room to spread out, darlin'.”

Jackie started to say something, but Pete forestalled his gentle bride's words. “
Five
acres?” It was an insult, a slap in his face to embarrass him in front of Jackie and remind him that Bode had him by the shorts. “I don't require much room, Bode. Our family will do just fine where we are.”

Bode raised a brow. “Three daughters, a wife and a big man all sharing a tiny house that used to be a rental property for an elderly woman who had no means? Come on, Pete. You could use five acres. You can at least have a garden patch on five acres.”

Pete's blood was on full boil. “Whatever you did to my aunt makes business between you and me impossible.”

“Oh, now. Don't be sore about that. Especially when I'm offering to let you have five acres, Callahan. You've got a family to think about. It's land you could at least sell if you needed money.”

So I'm supposed to beg for the crumbs of my family home.
Pete squared his jaw, forcing himself not to cold-cock another man on his daughters' birthday. It would be a bad thing to do. “And if I wanted to do business with you—which would be a cold day in Hell—what would it cost me?”

“Not a dime,” Bode said.

Jackie's gaze was on Pete. Her eyes were huge with some emotion he couldn't name. If Bode had meant to
shame him, he was doing an excellent job. The way the man put it, Pete couldn't provide for his own family—which, though none of Bode's business, was galling if people were to think that about a man who considered himself Mr. Responsibility. “Out,” he told Bode, “get out. If you have business to discuss with me, don't do it here when my wife's just given birth, you miserable sack of—” He held himself back with great effort that choked the words in his throat. “Get out before I do something to you only my brothers would do better.”

“Let him say his piece, Pete,” Jackie said quickly. “We agreed all decisions would be made between us.”

“No, we didn't,” Pete replied. “You named the babies without me.”

Jackie blinked. It seemed that she shrank back a little. Her hands clutched the sheets as she stared at him.
Oh, hell. Bode wants us to doubt our marriage, wants to find our weak link.
“Out,” he told the man, “before I kick your ass up between your ears and roll you down the hall.”

Sabrina got to her feet and helped Bode from his chair. The tall, white-haired man allowed her to do it, but he grinned at Pete. “Let me know, son, when you want to talk business. All I want is information about the silver mine hidden on my new property, and for your trouble, five acres is all yours.”

Pete jammed his hands in his jeans so he wouldn't swing. He was going to be the bigger man here. And he and Jackie were not going to have their first argument just because of a jackass.

Bode and Sabrina left, after Sabrina hugged Jackie, surreptitiously whispering something in Jackie's ear.

“What?” Pete asked after they'd left. The urge to
move quickly, repair whatever damage Jenkins had done between him and Jackie, took him to his wife's side. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I'm not looking at you like anything,” Jackie said.

But her gaze fell to her hands.

“Jackie?” He felt her slipping away from him.

“I'm so tired right now,” she murmured. “Good night, Pete.”

She closed her eyes and he was left out, his hands in fists at his sides, even as he knew Bode Jenkins, that snake in the grass, had made a first strike.

 

J
ACKIE KNEW EXACTLY
when Pete left. She feigned sleep, needing to gather her thoughts. What Bode had said about Pete needing more room scared her to death. It was true. There was no way she could insist that a big man share a bathroom and a tiny cottage with her and their daughters. It didn't make sense, and she'd been unreasonable.

Her house had been the last piece of herself she could keep, and she'd protected her turf without any thought of Pete's needs. She'd been so shocked by the pregnancy, and then finding out they were having multiple babies, that she hadn't considered living space until it was too late. She hadn't even decorated a nursery. She'd been too busy thinking about her new business.

Defense, she'd been playing defense.

A nurse came in to record her vitals. “How are you doing?”

“Fine. How are my daughters?” Jackie sat up, eager to hear.

“Doing fine and keeping everyone busy.”

“When do I get to feed them?”

“In a little while, after you've rested.”

Jackie looked at her. “Is my…husband at the nursery?”

The nurse shook her head. “No. His aunt and uncle are, though. They had an awful squabble a few moments ago with a visitor.” She smiled at Jackie. “Your aunt won.”

Bode had paid a visit to the nursery. She'd have to ask Sabrina what had happened later. Sabrina was on her side. She had whispered in her ear that Bode didn't mean any harm; he really just wanted to see the babies. And he was upset that he hadn't been invited to the wedding. But no one had been. There really hadn't been a wedding, not that she cared what Bode Jenkins thought. She wouldn't invite him, anyway, if he was always going to torture poor Fiona. “What happened?”

“I don't know exactly. She called him a thief, and he called her a mismanaging airhead. I thought she was going to lay him out. Her driver had to separate them.” The nurse laughed. “We don't get many little elderly people raising a ruckus around here.”

“Can you ask Fiona to come in here, please?” It was imperative that she speak to her.

“You don't need more visitors,” the nurse said. “You need to rest.”

Suddenly, Jackie knew exactly how Mr. Dearborn had felt—trapped and helpless. The exact way Pete was probably feeling right now, if she wasn't quick about putting things right.

But she'd learned a trick or two from Mr. Dearborn. “I was once a nurse here,” she said, a little wistfully. “Sometimes I miss working with patients. And you're new at the hospital, aren't you?”

“I've been here three weeks.” The nurse picked up her chart. “Is there anything I can get you?”

“Yes. You can get me Aunt Fiona,” Jackie said, her voice sweetly determined. “I'll rest so much better once I see her cheery face.”

The nurse walked to the door, smiling. “I heard you used to sneak some of your favorite patients chocolate. Particularly the difficult ones.”

“Are you planning on bringing me some chocolate?” Jackie asked.

“Nope. But I'll get your aunt.”

She left, and Jackie winced at the stitches in her stomach. “Good. I was about to get cranky with you,” she muttered.

But then Fiona fluttered into the room, and Jackie launched her plan.

“The babies,” Fiona said, “they are such darlings! I can't wait to hold them! How are you doing, my dear?”

She carefully leaned in to hug Jackie.

“I'm fine, Fiona,” Jackie said, “but I'm afraid I need a huge favor.”

“Babysitting, cooking, some new nighties from the store in town I hear you like shopping at?” Fiona said, eyeing her hospital gown.

“Darla's gone to get me some things. I didn't think I'd need a bag when she brought me to the hospital. We thought we would only be here for a quick check to soothe her nerves. I hadn't even packed a suitcase for the hospital. But I have something else that must be done. And you will have to keep it totally secret, please, Fiona. Absolutely under your hat.”

“Oh, good,” Fiona said, her face beaming. “Now what do you need me to do?”

 

“I
NEED HELP
,” P
ETE TOLD
J
ONAS
. His brother sat at the rugged plank table in the bunkhouse, and the others—except Creed, who'd gone off somewhere, clearly out of cell phone reach because no one could get him to answer—lounged around the room, celebrating the birth of Pete's daughters and the successful hatching of The Plan.

But it wasn't a success yet, because his angels needed him. And their father planned to ride to their rescue.

After that, he'd rescue his wife from his total wipeout as a husband. Bode Jenkins wasn't going to win this round. “I need help from all of you.”

“If this is about my nieces, I'll do anything except change diapers,” Sam said. “And clean spit-up. Hurl is hard for me to look at.”

“You're a moron,” Judah said. “Babies don't hurl. Not much, anyway. Not like you do after a bender, for example.”

Rafe lifted a beer in Sam's direction. “You'll have to toughen up, Sam. Pete's not going to be sleeping much for the next couple of weeks, and we all need to help him out. When do the babies leave the hospital, Pete?”

“I'm not sure. They only weighed about four pounds each.” That alone scared the hell out of Pete. “Does anybody remember what we weighed?”

“It would say on your birth record,” Jonas said, “and Fiona's probably got that buried somewhere.”

“It doesn't matter. I'm pretty sure I wasn't four pounds.” He remembered Sam when he'd arrived at the ranch. Sam had been about as big as a ten-pound sack of new potatoes. Pete's daughters were more like good-sized Idaho spuds. He glanced around at his brothers, not liking the new helpless feelings swamping him. “They're so small they could be in the hospital for a month.”

“No,” Jonas said. “We have to think positive. The delivering physician said that they were healthy, just underweight. That's a good sign.”

Pete drew a relieved breath. “Jackie and I made no plans for anything.”

“We know.” Rafe grinned. “You've been very disorganized about becoming a father, which isn't like you at all. But we've been impressed that you've pulled it off, Pete. We didn't give you a snowball's chance, frankly.”

“Glad you've got my back.” The jackasses were ribbing him, and he appreciated the brotherly love but he still felt as if a whirlwind had blown into his life, spewing everything in forty directions. “So, are you going to help me or not?”

“What do you need?” Judah asked.

“No diapers,” Sam reminded him.

“I need a nursery,” Pete said. “I'd make you a list, but I have no idea what babies need.”

“You want us to round up all your baby stuff?” Jonas said.

“Right.” Pete nodded. “Diapers, cribs, the works.”

Sam looked scared. “You want us to make a nursery?”

“It's a lot to ask. But you can do it.” Pete sat straight, still boiling mad about Bode's visit. “It's got to work. My turtledove doesn't want to leave her house. Bode's offered me five acres of Rancho Diablo land in exchange for me telling him where the silver mine is.”

They all stared at him.

“Silver mine?” Judah repeated. “Is that rumor making the rounds again?”

“Yes.” Pete nodded. “But never mind that. It was the look on Jackie's face that warned me I have to take drastic steps. She was actually
listening
to the old coot.”

“There's no silver mine,” Jonas said. “So who cares what he thinks?”

“There's no nursery, either. Bode told Jackie I wouldn't be happy in her house. That it was too small. That a man needed to spread out. And she looked crushed.” He took a deep breath, still angry. “Bode must be the one who locked me in the basement. And searched the house. That's why Fiona's jars and everything she'd stored were destroyed in the basement. I know he did it.”

“Because he was looking for silver?” Judah asked.

“Exactly.” Pete nodded. “That's why he wants the ranch.”

“There's no silver,” Sam said, “there's nothing but hard work here. And the Diablos.”

They sat silently. Ghostly horses that ran free across the ranch, full of spirit that never could be tamed, their midnight-black manes and tails flying. They were the treasure of Rancho Diablo.

“I saw Fiona's friend the other day,” Sam murmured.

Everyone stared at Sam.

“And?” Pete prompted.

“He was on a black-and-white horse, looking down the mesa at our house.” Sam shrugged. “He raised a hand when he saw me, and then he left.”

Pete shook his head. “Maybe Fiona gives him blackberry jelly or canned asparagus from the basement. Have any of us considered just asking her why Running Bear visits her every year?”