The Secret Agent's Surprises (Harlequin American Romance) (3 page)

So then he wanted me to adopt four newborns,” Priscilla told Cricket as they scrubbed out teapots and closed the shop for the day. It had been two days since she’d heard from Pete or Josiah—and yet she still needed time to think about what had happened. So much of what had been said was playing on her mind, drawing her thoughts over and over again to the children.

And Pete.

“Four!” Cricket exclaimed. “How can that be possible?”

“Quadruplets are rare, but not unheard of. There was a car accident and the parents were killed. It’s heartbreaking.” Priscilla poured fresh water over the pots and set them to dry in the rack. “I can’t take on four infants, of course, but there has to be something I can do to help.”

“What was Pete’s reaction?”

Priscilla shook her head. “I left in a hurry. I have
no idea what was said after I was gone. With the ill will between them, I’m sure Pete wasn’t thrilled to come home to discover his father was trying to serve up a wife and full family to him on a silver platter.”

“Josiah is a determined man.”

“He is. I’m sure he has his reasons for what he does, but I can’t be a participant in his plans.”

“Is Pete as hot as he was last month?” Cricket asked with a sneaky glance her friend’s way.

Priscilla began wiping down tables. It had been a full day in the shop with plenty of customers who sat and lingered. She loved it when her tea room was busy. It meant a lot that her customers—many of whom were regulars and becoming her dear friends—loved her place as much as she did. Too bad the bank saw it differently. “‘Hot’ is an understatement,” she said. “He’s so hot I don’t dare touch him.”

“Really?” Cricket followed Priscilla, drying the tables with a soft, white towel. “Would you, under different circumstances?”

“No. There is such a thing as too much man. I, for one, am looking for a more down-to-earth, heart-hand-home type.”

“That doesn’t sound like any fun,” Cricket teased.

“Not fun. Safe.” Priscilla glanced around the room, holding her plan to her for one more moment before sharing. “I’m going to go visit the babies in the hospital.”

Cricket nodded. “I figured you would. I’d like to see them, too.”

“Would you?”

“Sure. Who can resist quadruplets?” Cricket shrugged. “Maybe my mommy timer is going off.”

“You’ve never mentioned before that you had one. I thought your work as a pastor kept you too busy,” Priscilla said with a smile, but Cricket shook her head.

“No one is too busy for a baby. My problem is finding Mr. Right. So for now, I wouldn’t mind seeing someone else’s angels.” Cricket began removing the wilted roses from the bud vases, replacing them with fresh ones. “I keep wondering if there’s something our church can do for them. Their care has to be outrageously expensive.”

“True. Maybe we could hold a bake sale or something to raise funds.” Priscilla finished wiping tables and picked up a broom. “That was another thing that surprised me about Josiah’s suggestion. How in the world would I take care of four babies, when I know nothing
about
babies, much less preemies?”

“I think Mr. Morgan’s intent was for you and Pete to split the duties and learn together.” Cricket smiled. “I’m sure he sees himself in a benevolent role, helping people to do good work.”

Priscilla thought caring for infants was probably best done by people who had some experience. “So when should we go take a peek at them?”

“Soon,” Cricket said. “My baby meter says we should do it soon.”

Priscilla laughed. “You could always sign up for Josiah’s wedding game.”

“With Pete? Nope.” Cricket shook her head. “I’m afraid my eyes are elsewhere.”

“You’ve never mentioned you had a sweetie.” Priscilla stopped sweeping to stare at her friend. “Tell me!”

“It’s not a sweetie, more of an unrequited longing. And I can’t reveal who it is,” Cricket said, “because you’d laugh.”

“I wouldn’t!”

“You would,” Cricket assured her. “Even I know it’s so crazy it could only happen by divine intervention. In the meantime I plan on sewing some little onesies for some tiny friends of ours.”

The bell over the door chimed, and both women looked up. “Oh,” Priscilla said, “is it that time already?”

“What time?” Cricket asked, then straightened as a tall cowboy walked in.

The man looked guarded and suspicious, a trapped animal. He glanced at the two women, then seeing the shop was empty, seemed to relax slightly.

“Hello, Jack Morgan,” Priscilla said. Cricket said nothing at all.

He leaned against a wall, put his hands in his pockets. “I’ve met you two before.”

“We picked you up a month ago when we were out shopping in Union Junction,” Priscilla said.

He nodded, his gaze sliding over Cricket. “You were at the Lonely Hearts Station rodeo, too.”

Cricket nodded. “Yes. I was.”

The tension in the air was like snapping power lines, Priscilla thought; if this man was Deacon Cricket’s secret crush, her friend must have taken leave of her steady senses.

The door swung open again, the bell tinkling to announce Pete’s arrival. “Hey, everybody. It’s starting to rain again, and it’s colder than a witch’s broom out there. I thought February in Texas would be a little warmer.”

His words lightened the tension in the room slightly. “Hello, Pete,” Priscilla said, wondering how a man in jeans, a basic black jacket and boots could be so mouthwateringly handsome. Line up a hundred men dressed just like that, and only Pete would make her knees weak.

He nodded at her. Her heart sank when she realized she wanted so much more than a general acknowledgment from him. This was not a man to nurse a hidden crush for.

“Hi, Cricket. Has my brother Jack introduced himself to you yet?”

“We were getting around to it,” Cricket said, her eyes huge as she looked at the cowboy.

The niceties completed, the two men stared at each other for a long time. There was no hug, no handshake, Priscilla noted, just a steady eyeing.

“Nice choice for neutral territory,” Jack said.

“Thanks for agreeing to meet me here,” Pete replied.

“I’ll just get some tea for you gentlemen, and some cookies,” Priscilla said, and Cricket quickly followed her.

“Why didn’t you tell me he was coming?” Cricket demanded in a rushed whisper.

“You’ve never cared who my customers were before,” she said, gently teasing her friend. “That handsome man wearing old boots and worn-out jeans isn’t anybody you’d be interested in.” She put two delicate white cups on the counter for Cricket to fill. “I have no mugs to serve men with,” Priscilla lamented, and then realized her friend had gone to the mirrored wall in the back of the store and was busily putting on lipstick. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” Cricket said.

Priscilla blinked. “You’ve never primped for customers before.”

“There’s a first time for everything.”

“I see,” Priscilla said, and went back to the cups to fill them herself. Glancing up, she caught Cricket patting her hair. She shook her head. “I vote we declare a moratorium on Morgan men.”

“I agree.” Cricket glanced out the pass-through window. “They’ve at least sat down at a table now, instead of circling each other like wrestlers.”

“That’s a happy thought.” Priscilla put some
cookies on a plate. “Maybe we should just stay in here and not break the flow.”

“I’ll serve them,” Cricket said, taking the plate and swiftly leaving the room.

Priscilla smiled and put the cups and pitcher on another tray. A sweet-natured deacon and a restless cowboy—it was never going to happen.

I
T WAS NEVER
going to happen, Pete realized as he watched his brother walk away from Priscilla’s tea shop, then climb into a brand-new black truck and speed away. Jack had heard “Pop’s sick” and he’d taken off faster than wildfire. Pete couldn’t blame his brother, but he’d so wanted to handle the situation better than he apparently had.

“Where’d your brother go?” Cricket asked as she approached the table.

“Back to wherever circuit-rodeo cowboys go when they’re…” He was about to say
pissed
, then elected to soften his words. “When they’re not interested in the topic of the day.”

She set the tray down. “Oh.”

The deacon sounded so disappointed that Pete glanced up. “Why?”

“I barely got to meet him, unlike the rest of your family.” Cricket smiled at him. “Priscilla, you can come out of hiding.”

Pete’s brow furrowed. “Hiding?”

“I was trying to give you and your brother some
privacy,” Priscilla said, coming in and setting another tray on the table. She sat across from him, as did Cricket. “But we can eat his cookies.”

“Guess we’ll have to,” Pete said, taking one.

“Things didn’t go well?” Priscilla asked, and he shook his head.

“Not a bit. But thanks for letting us meet here.”

“No problem. Wish it had helped.”

“He wouldn’t have come to the ranch, and he avoids me when I try to meet him at a rodeo.” Pete shrugged. “We’re hardheaded in my family.”

“No kidding.” Priscilla poured everyone some tea and put the tray on a nearby table so they’d have elbow room. “So I’ve been thinking about the babies. I’m going to go by and see them.”

“Oddly enough,” Pete said, “I, too, have been thinking about them. I’ve already been by for a visit.”

“You have?” Priscilla said.

Cricket asked, “Are they darling?”

“They’re small,” Pete said. “Tiny. I’ve seen, I don’t know, chickens that were bigger.”

“Oh, boy,” Priscilla said. “Is your father still talking about them?”

“Nonstop. And you, I might add.”

Priscilla blinked. “Outside of a bake sale or donating some clothes, I can’t be party to any plans your father may cook up.”

“Yeah, I know. I told him that. And he said he understood. Then he wanted me to tell you that he
respects that a woman like you isn’t interested in money.”

Cricket stared at her friend. “You never said anything about money. What money?”

Priscilla shook her head. “I have no idea. We never discussed money.”

Pete frowned. “Money’s always first on the table with Pop when he wants something.”

“Not this time,” Priscilla said. “He was only offering you, I guess.”

“Hey,” Pete said, “don’t make it sound like you drew the short straw.”

Cricket helped herself to a cookie. “I have to head back to the church. It was good to see you, Pete. I’m so sorry things didn’t work out better for you.”

“Me, too.” He got up as Cricket stood. The two women hugged goodbye, then Cricket left. Priscilla turned the shop sign to Closed and suddenly Pete found himself alone for the first time with the woman his father had proposed to on his behalf.

“Let’s make a deal,” Pete said.

“I don’t do deals,” Priscilla said, “and you’re starting to sound like your father.”

Pete sat back down at the table. “I wouldn’t ordinarily accept that as a compliment, but today I will.”

Priscilla eyed him warily. Now Pete understood why his father so enjoyed the game. It was kind of interesting seeing what went on in the other person’s head. Where Priscilla was concerned, he found himself
very
interested.

He supposed it had something to do with that forbidden-fruit idea women were always pushing. She’d turned down the notion of the two of them, at least in a parenting capacity, but she’d also made it sound like he was the last man on earth she’d consider. “It’s all about wanting what you can’t have,” he said.

“Did Jack say that?” Priscilla asked.

“No, I did. I think it’s what makes Pop tick, and it’s a dangerous way to live.”

“I’ll say.” Priscilla topped off their tea. “So back to your deal.”

He sighed. “I haven’t worked it out fully yet. I’m just thinking you and I might be able to work together pretty well.”

“To whose benefit?”

“I haven’t figured that out yet, either. It’s a work in progress.” Pete shoved his hat back, drummed the table with his fingers. “The pieces are slowly coming together for me.”

“That’s encouraging.”

“Yeah.” He squinted, considering her for a moment. “There are certain pieces that are eluding me.”

“Like?”

“Why’d my father choose you?” He quit drumming, looked at her thoughtfully. Priscilla was a pretty woman, and judging from Gabriel’s and Dane’s new wives, Pop liked women who were easy on the eyes. Probably thought it boded well for grandchildren, which made sense, Pete supposed. “You have no children, unlike Laura and Suzy. You live nearly two hours away, unlike Laura and Suzy, who were both living in Union Junction. I know my father is a serial matchmaker, yet I just wonder, why you?”

“I…couldn’t guess.”

“Well, maybe he thought you were the motherly type,” Pete theorized.

“He hadn’t even met me.”

“That’s true.” Pete shook his head. “I’m confused.”

“Does it matter?” Priscilla asked. “You and I both know that a relationship between us for the sake of children—even as wonderful a man as your father may be—isn’t workable.”

He nodded slowly. “In fact, it’s silly.”

“I wouldn’t call Josiah silly. ‘Determined’ is the word I’d choose.”

But there were plenty of wonderful women in Union Junction, Pete was sure of it. Yet for some reason, Pop had chosen her. He’d been right on the mark with Laura and Suzy. There was something about Priscilla, something worth considering, for Pop to have picked her. Plus, Pete wasn’t entirely immune to her, as much as it pained him to wonder just how well his father knew him.

“As I say,” he continued, “all the pieces haven’t come together yet for me. But they will. Maybe I’ll ask Pop what was on his mind.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t do that,” Priscilla said hurriedly. “Likely he simply knew that Suzy and I were great friends and figured I’d fit in well in Union Junction.” She gestured around the tea room. “But as I told Josiah, I have a life I love here.”

Pete smiled. “Pop didn’t offer to move the house and tea shop to Union Junction?”

Priscilla didn’t smile. “No.”

“Didn’t offer you money?”

“Nope. Just children and a husband, none of which were his to wheel and deal for.”

“Yeah,” Pete said. “But I know why he did it. That part I do understand, or at least I’m beginning to understand.” He leaned back, considering her for a moment. “Would you like to go for a drive? I see that sign says your shop is closed on Sundays.”

“I might,” she said. “Depends on what I’m going to see.”

“A surprise,” Pete said. “Pack an overnight bag.”

“You’re taking me to see the babies,” she guessed, and he tried to decide whether she sounded nervous about the babies or being with him.

“I thought we might. I don’t even know why, except that I’m feeling unsuccessful right now, since Jack took off like a shot out of a cannon when he heard what was on my mind.” He scratched under his hat, then shook his head. “Jack had it harder than the rest of us. He never did anything right, as far as Pop was concerned.”

Pete looked at Priscilla, seeing that she was listening with sympathy, so he took a deep breath and went on, “The thing about Jack was that he’d give any of us the shirt off his back. Of all of us, Jack was the one who’d come running if we needed a pat on the head, a little encouragement. It kills me to see him so gun-shy now. Pop did that to him.”

“Oh, dear,” Priscilla said. “I’m so sorry.”

Pete waved a hand, trying to appear casual. “I came home all ready to tell Pop what I thought about his letter. All the years of anger were ready to spill
right out of me, so I understand Jack’s reaction today. I really do. I just hadn’t counted on Pop needing us, the jackass. It sort of turns the tables on any bitter words I’d thought about saying to him.”

“I think living in the past is pretty hard sometimes,” Priscilla said, breaking eye contact. “A lot of regrets back there.”

“Yeah. To be honest, I wasn’t too happy to find you there at the ranch with him. I’d built up a full head of steam. It’d been simmering inside me since I’d left the States. I was really going to ride the old man.” He shrugged. “There was Miss Manners, though, and I had to give Pop a pass in the interest of chivalry.”

“Aren’t you glad you did?”

He sighed. “Are you coming or not?”

Standing, Priscilla took off her apron. “I happen to be free for the evening.”

“Good.” He crossed his legs, leaned back in the chair. “That makes two of us.”

P
RISCILLA DID WANT
to see the quadruplets, but she was a wee bit anxious. Pete was a tempting man, and who wouldn’t want to help four orphaned infants?

All she could hope was that wonderful homes could be found for them. She could also hope that Pete would head on his merry way to whatever place next caught his fancy so that she could quit thinking about him. He was invading her day
dreams on a disturbingly frequent level. Did she want to end up like Cricket, fancying someone she couldn’t have?

It didn’t take great brain power to know that she and Pete had nothing in common except for their concern for the babies.

“This is the Union Junction hospital, the babies’ home for the past few weeks,” Pete said, pulling into the parking lot. “I don’t know how much longer they’ll need to be here, but they don’t seem to mind, fortunately.”

She quietly followed Pete inside, reassured by his warmth and strength and sense of duty. They rode the elevator to the second floor, then walked to the nursery window. “And there they are,” Pete said, “one, two, three and four.”

“Oh,” Priscilla said faintly, “they’re cherubs.”

No one could resist such sweet little babies. Their tiny fannies were covered by small diapers. A hospital-issued bracelet encircled each of four impossibly small arms. Adorable caps were on their heads, and each wore a small T-shirt, a blanket half covering them, though one of the girls had kicked her blanket off. All of them slept peacefully, unaware of the two adults staring at them through the nursery window.

He nodded. “Can’t believe they’re all from one family.”

Priscilla could feel tears pricking at her eyes. “They’re so helpless.” She looked up at Pete. “It’s
one thing to hear about them, quite another to see them. No wonder your father is so stirred up.”

“Yeah. If he was any younger, he’d be finding himself a bride and adopting them himself.”

“Let’s go,” Priscilla said. Her sudden urge to escape was overwhelming. She couldn’t bear to think, hated to remember that once long ago she’d put a child up for adoption, a child just as helpless as these. “Pete, I have to get out of here.”

She hurried down the stairs as fast as she could, not bothering with the elevator.

“Hey,” Pete said, catching her by the hand as he followed her out. “What just happened back there?”

She took deep breaths. “I don’t know. I’m not sure.”

He pulled her close, patted her back comfortingly. “Ah. Pop’s got you freaked out.”

“Maybe,” she said, but that wasn’t it.

“Listen,” he said, “I brought you here to make you happy. I think it’s fun to see the little cuties. Two boys, two girls, how cool is that? Forget about Pop. He’s a schemer, and he will be until the day he dies.”

Priscilla allowed herself to relax against Pete’s chest. Still, she couldn’t shake the painful emotions.

She hadn’t allowed herself to think about her youthful indiscretion in years, at least not consciously.

“Priscilla,” Pete said, tipping her face up to meet his, “don’t be scared.” And then he gently kissed her lips, so sweetly and so tenderly that Priscilla knew she had something new to worry about.

“S
O YOU LIKED
them,” Josiah said with a broad grin. “They’re pretty durn irresistible.”

“Yes,” Pete said as Priscilla sat across from him in his father’s study, “and we think we’ve come up with an idea.” He’d talked Priscilla into stopping by the house with him to visit Pop, in spite of the kiss that she seemed shaken by and determined to ignore. He couldn’t blame her. He didn’t know why he’d done it, other than a sheer, raw desire to connect with her. “We wanted to share our idea with you.”

“Let’s hear it.” Josiah perked up.

“Priscilla and I thought a community-wide garage sale to benefit the babies would be helpful. Then whoever adopts them will already have all the special equipment and everything they need.” Pete nodded at his father, grinned at Priscilla. “We don’t have all the details yet. It’s an idea that’s just been brewing since we left the hospital.”

“It’s a terrible idea!” Josiah exclaimed. “I mean, if they need things, people can just donate them. Hell, I’ll donate everything!” He looked at the two of them, crestfallen. “Is that the best you can come up with?”

“I’m sure, given time, we can think of more ideas—”

“They don’t have time, son!” Josiah thundered. “They need—” he cast a sneaky glance at Priscilla “—a mother and a father more than they need toys and trinkets.”

Priscilla blushed. Pete shook his head, somewhat embarrassed himself but not surprised his father
stayed on key. “Pop, moms and dads are in short supply.”

“I’ll say,” Josiah grumbled.

“And that’s up to child welfare, likely even the state,” Priscilla reminded him. “Even if we applied, there’s no guarantee we’d be chosen or that they’d stay together. You know this, Josiah.”

He pursed his lips. “Hope springs eternal.”

“Maybe,” Priscilla said. “Have you considered any other candidates for Pete? That might be your best option.”

Both men stared at her.

“Well,” Priscilla said reasonably, “I promise not to be jealous if you can find a more willing bride for your son.”

“I’ll choose my own wife!”

“Oh, good,” Josiah said. “Have you got a short list we can work with?”

“So short there’s none on it,” Pete admitted.

“Well, that was a fast and circular got-us-nowhere.” Josiah rubbed his chin. “Priscilla, you mentioned your business is in trouble. I’ll write you a check today for the amount you’re owing if you marry my son.”

“Josiah, Pete and I are not the match you think we’d be.”

“I actually don’t care,” Josiah said, “as long as you both promise to be good parents. Isn’t that the point here?”

Pete looked at Priscilla. “I’m so embarrassed for him,” he told her. “I really am. He’s the only one in the family, I promise. The rest of the tree is pretty sane.”

“It’s all right.” She sighed. “Listen, let’s try to put our heads together and think of a practical solution for the children.”

“Okay,” Josiah said, “but I would think Pete’s million dollars is practical enough.”

“Oh, am I up for that now?” Pete asked.

“If you can drag
her
to the altar,” his father told him, “I’ll throw in fifty thousand for her business.”

“My business,” Priscilla pointed out, “is in Fort Wylie.”

“Yes,” Josiah said, his gaze turning devious again, “but I think it’s time you start a franchise.”

Pete and Priscilla stared at the oldest Morgan.

“Franchise what?” Priscilla asked.

“Your tea shop. We need one here,” Josiah said. “And I have land. For that matter, I own a building in Union Junction where your tea shop could be located. Wouldn’t the ladies love a tea shop in town?”

“Josiah, I think I’d be too busy raising four children to run two shops,” Priscilla said. “That is, if I fell in with your plan, which I most certainly will not.”

“Woman!” Josiah thundered. “Don’t you have a price?”

Pete admired Priscilla’s insistence that she could not be bought. He laughed. “Pop, you’ve met your match.”

Josiah shook his head. “Something’s not right here. Something’s hanging you up,” he told Priscilla. “He’s not that ugly, you know. Wasn’t that bad a kid. Guess he could have been worse.” He leaned back in his desk chair. “Either he or Jack might have taken that prize, I suppose.”

Pete perked up at that faint praise. “Weren’t you going to say that Jack was your worst? Your letter seemed to indicate that.”

“Not being competitive, are you?” Josiah demanded.

“It’s sort of what you alluded to in your letter to him,” Pete said.

Josiah frowned. “No one was supposed to read Jack’s letter but Jack.”

“You left his and mine unsealed, Pop. Suzy, Priscilla and Cricket found them. That’s how Jack and I received ours. What were they doing in a kitchen drawer, anyway?”

“I wasn’t finished writing them,” Josiah said with a sheepish glance at Priscilla. “Maybe I wasn’t certain I’d said exactly what I’d wanted to say.”

“Oh,” Pete said, “so maybe my letter was supposed to be an ode to a young man who’d made his father proud?”

“Probably not,” Josiah said, unfazed by his son’s needling. “However, you shouldn’t have read Jack’s.” He swung his gaze to Priscilla. “I suppose you read Jack’s, too,” he said.

“I most certainly did not!” Priscilla tapped his arm. “You should know better than that.”