The Secret Agent's Surprises (Harlequin American Romance) (5 page)

Pete had done a lot of soul-searching. He’d prayed a lot and consulted his brothers about the four babies in the Union Junction hospital. In the end, he’d realized he couldn’t leave these children behind. He had a chance to make up for some of the children he hadn’t been able to save in his job as an agent. This adoption would cleanse his soul in a way, and give him a purpose in life. Being a father, he’d realized all of a sudden like an unbidden beam of light, was his calling. His chance at redemption in his own life, and frankly, with his own family.

So now he sat in a small, organized office, staring into the face of a compact, efficient woman who didn’t seem impressed that he was there to perform a rescue.

“There’s a lot of paperwork involved in adoptions, I’m sure you’re aware of that,” Mira Gaines, head of the child-welfare services in Union Junction, said. “These children are already wards of the state, as they have no living relatives. Mr. Morgan, while I respect
your desire to see that the children are cared for, I can’t help wondering why a single man would want to adopt four infants.”

She blinked at him from behind black glasses, and Pete knew he hadn’t gotten a gold star on his request yet. “I was raised with three brothers. We were pretty close. It’s not like I don’t know what goes into raising a big family.”

“True enough. But these are special-needs infants at this time,” she explained. “You’d need a lot of help.”

“Which I’m fortunate enough to have right here in Union Junction, as well as the financial resources required to raise four kids.” He didn’t, not yet, but he knew Pop would be a more than doting grandfather. The children wouldn’t lack for anything. “You should at least consider me,” he said.

“Of course you’ll be considered. All applicants are.”

“Have there been any others?”

“This isn’t a town raffle, Mr. Morgan. The children will be put into a national registry where families who have been, frankly, on waiting lists for years can be matched to their needs.”

“They’ll be broken up,” he said glumly, fear washing over him. “Do you understand how hard that would be on a family?”

“They’re very young,” she said.

“You’re implying that they won’t remember. That they’ll be loved by their new families and won’t ever know what they lost.”

“We do the best we can, Mr. Morgan,” she said gently. “Life isn’t perfect. If it was, the children would still have their own parents.”

He shook his head, frustrated with the situation.

“The fact is, it’s not up to me,” she said, her voice still gentle. “Their cases will be reviewed by a state board. It’s very difficult for everyone, and all parties involved will do their best to make the most important decision of these young childrens’ lives. Your application would be considered, but I have to be honest—it’s a serious long shot.”

“It would be better if I was married,” he said flatly.

“Of course a married couple will be looked on more favorably, but it’s not the end of the discussion. If you’re determined and still want to do this, we can certainly begin the process.”

His lips twisted. “I may as well. We have the space at the ranch.”

Mrs. Gaines looked at him sympathetically. “I understand your father hasn’t been well. Are you certain he wants babies in his home? They do tend to cry often in the night, you know, times four. The noise level would go up dramatically, as well as the activity.”

He stood. “Believe me when I tell you that my father would think their crying was the sound of angels singing.”

She considered Pete for a long time. He sat very
still, keeping his face impassive, knowing he was under the most intense scrutiny of his life.

Mrs. Gaines finally gave a small nod. “Let’s get started with the initial paperwork, then.”

T
HAT NIGHT
Pete had to admit to his father that going it alone as an adoptive father didn’t seem likely. “They didn’t give me a whole lot of hope,” he told his father, noticing Josiah’s disappointment. Pop looked more tired with each passing day, he realized. It wasn’t just the long journey home from France that had worn him down—his father simply wasn’t in the best of health. “Have you talked to your doctor here in town since you’ve been back?”

“Son, I’ve seen doctors here and in France. I’ve taken the waters. I’ve sat in miracle chairs overseen by praying nuns. Believe me, I’ve tried everything. Fact is, I’ve lived a longer and better life than most, so I’m accepting it.” He eyed his son sharply. “Stay on the point.”

“I am,” Pete said with a sigh. “A one-to-four ratio isn’t good as far as child-welfare services is concerned. The general feeling seems to be that I don’t know what I’m asking for. I don’t think I’ve got a prayer.”

“Where’s Priscilla, anyway?” Josiah asked.

“Back in her home and tea shop.” Pete waved a hand. “Don’t count her into the picture, Pop.”

“Durn,” Josiah said, “I like her.”

“I know. But we don’t always get to have what we like.”

His father sighed. “You talk to me like I’m a baby. At least she respects me.”

Pete laughed. “Pop, I do respect you.”

“Better than you used to, anyhow.” Josiah rearranged his blanket over his legs. “Throw another log on the fire, will you?”

Pete did as his father requested, watching the sparks fly. “Maybe they’re right. Maybe we couldn’t handle four children.”

Pop grunted. “If anybody can, we can.”

“Yeah, but we pretty much ran amok as kids, Pop, face it.”

“No, you took care of each other. That’s why you’re all reasonably strong. Although you could be stronger. Occasionally you can all be a bit wishy-washy, but you’re coming along. Slowly.”

Pete had to laugh, no longer bothered by Pop’s incessant carping, recognizing it as a form of teasing. “Slow and steady wins the race.”

“Yeah, well. Where there’s a will, there’s a will. We’ll just have to test a few different plans,” Josiah said with a gleam in his eye.

T
HE NEXT NIGHT
Pete learned what kind of “different plans” his father had in mind. In the living room sat six women, all dressed as if they were going to church, except for one who wore a nurse’s uniform.
All the women were smiling at him like he was some sort of prize. Josiah was the center of attention, clearly enjoying all this female company. “Hello, everyone,” Pete said cautiously, taking off his hat and setting it on a nearby chair.

All the women said hello, followed by some nervous giggles. That alone had Pete’s antennae quivering. “What’s up, Pop?” He hadn’t showered; he’d been out looking at some heifers, thinking about what he wanted to do now that he was a free man. He thought about ranching, which would probably make Pop happy. He’d considered breeding horses. There were a lot of opportunities he wanted to research, and the last thing he wanted was a room full of anxious women.

“Just having a little gathering,” Pop said jovially. “These nice ladies came over to check on me.”

Since the women were closer to Pete’s age than his father’s, Pete doubted the statement. “Excellent. Then I’ll just head upstairs and leave you to your party.”

“No, no!” Josiah exclaimed, his tone a trifle too jovial. “Come join us. Ladies, this is my second son, Pete.”

There was another round of hellos. Pete shifted, beginning to realize his first instinct had been correct—Pop was up to no good. Pete was trapped. He couldn’t abruptly leave without seeming rude. So he sat.

He met Marty Carroll, who was in residency for her medical degree. She planned to be a pediatrician.
With pretty blue eyes and a soft voice, Pete felt certain Dr. Carroll would be very comforting to babies.

He met Judy Findley, a dietician at Union Junction’s hospital. Dark-haired and petite with a sweet smile, Pete knew dinner would always be nutritious—and four little babies would never drink soda.

He met Susan Myer, a generously curved, pretty librarian. Pete knew four little babies would have the benefit of constantly being read wonderful books.

He met Crissy Cates, a tall, red-haired nurse with a no-nonsense demeanor but a genial laugh. Pete knew four little babies would always have practical caregiving advice at hand.

He met Zoe Pettigrew, a tiny, thin church secretary with the sexiest eyes he’d ever seen on a church secretary. Pete figured Pop was counting on Zoe to drag four little babies to church often.

Last he met Chara Peppertree, a beautiful model type, with brown eyes, long brown hair and long fingernails that were painted red. Pete glanced at Pop curiously, but Pop just shrugged. Then Chara said, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Pete” in a lovely voice, and Pete understood that four little babies would always have beauty around them.

Pete had no idea what to do with so much delightful feminine attention—except he couldn’t help thinking it was Priscilla who made his heart race. She had from the moment he’d met her. Right now, his heart wasn’t racing with anything more than a
healthy desire to roar at his father for being such a manipulative old codger.

But Priscilla wasn’t here—and she wasn’t even available, as she’d pointed out—so Pete sat down and let himself be courted. After all, there were four little babies to think about. And these days, they were heavily on Pete’s mind.

“C
OME WITH ME
, Cricket,” Priscilla said as she packed an overnight bag while Cricket sat on her bed and watched.

“Well, I wouldn’t mind seeing the Morgans again, and I could use a weekend away.” Cricket winked at Priscilla. “Besides, I don’t mind seeing how you’re going to present this plan to Pete.”

“I wouldn’t go if Laura and Suzy hadn’t invited me out for the party.” Priscilla finished packing her suitcase. “They wanted you to come along, if you could.”

“Laura and Suzy invited me, too?”

Priscilla nodded and closed the case. “Suzy’s exact words were ‘You might want to come out. Josiah’s having a matchmaking party. Bring Cricket for backup.’”

Cricket smiled. “An old-fashioned matchmaking party. Josiah’s fun, isn’t he?”

“I don’t know,” Priscilla said honestly. “I’m not the woman for Pete, I know that. Still, I think about him all the time.” She shrugged. “I’ve gone over it
so many times in my head that just when I’m proud of myself for being practical, I feel dumb for possibly passing up the one man I feel something for.”

“Wow, that’s a dilemma,” Cricket said. “I wish I had it.”

Priscilla looked at her friend. “You have a dilemma and its name is Jack, which is the real reason you’re coming along with me.”

“Not true,” Cricket said airily. “The chance of him ever showing up at the ranch is zero. Plus, to be honest, it’s best if I don’t entertain that particular dead end.”

“True,” Priscilla said. “The same goes for me.”

“Yet a matchmaking party sounds kind of fun,” Cricket said with a giggle. “I hope you’re the guest of honor.”

Priscilla smiled. “Sometimes I almost do feel part of the family.”

Pete was exhausted by nine o’clock. Talking to women was a sport in which he might be out of practice, he decided as the women said their goodbyes. He escorted all of them to their cars, thanked them for coming and went inside to grab a beer and have a word with Pop.

Josiah grinned at him when he walked in the door. “Fun stuff, eh?”

“Not so much. Please don’t ever do that again on my behalf.” He flung himself onto the sofa.

“Didn’t you have fun?”

“I did. But I’d have had just as much fun watching TV.”

Pop laughed. “Methinks you doth protest too much. But that’s okay.”

Pete shook his head, knowing his father wouldn’t be deterred easily from his path. “I didn’t fail to notice that all those women had sterling occupations for adoption applications. Nurse, pediatrician, et cetera, et cetera. Although the model threw me.”

“Ah, well. A man’s gotta have something really glamorous to look at every once in a while. She sort of reminded me of your mother with all that dark-eyed beauty.”

Pete sat up. “Pop, why don’t you call Mom? All you ever do is talk about her.”

“Why don’t you call her? She’s your mother.”

Pete blinked. Rubbed his face, scratched his head, stared at his father. “She left. Figured she didn’t want to hear from us.”

Josiah nodded. “Well, don’t act like I’ve been keeping you from something you want to do.”

“I never said you were.” Pete frowned, trying to remember why, if it was as easy as picking up a phone, he’d never spoken to his mother. “Did we have a telephone when we were growing up?”

“Well, we did, sort of,” Pop said. “There wasn’t a phone for years, of course, because the poles didn’t get put in out this way for a long time. Part of the price of country living. Then we had this thing where you dialed up and asked an operator to put the call through. Of course we had a party line, and it was hell waiting on a chance to get a call through. There was no such thing, of course, as a transatlantic call, not out here. Maybe in the big city.” He glanced at his son. “’Course nowadays, calling around the world is nothing difficult.”

Nothing difficult, said his world-traveling father.

“Guess I’ll turn in,” Pop said. “You’re boring after all the pretty ladies we had here.”

The doorbell rang, and Pop perked up. “Perhaps a straggler,” he said, his hopes high. “Maybe one of those gals was taken with you and is trying to get an early jump on her rivals. Let’s go see.”

“Sure, Pop,” Pete said, putting up with the teasing with good humor, until he opened the door and saw Cricket and Priscilla standing on the porch.

“We heard there was a party,” Priscilla said, her smile a little shy. “Suzy said we should come.” She glanced over her shoulder. “But I don’t see any cars. Do we have the wrong time?”

Josiah grinned at Pete, not ruffled at all by his daughter-in-law’s interference. “That Suzy has such true Morgan spirit.”

Priscilla’s gaze searched Pete’s. “She said it was a matchmaking party. We have no idea what that is, but it sounded like fun, and since she invited us, we thought we could at least help out.”

Josiah ushered them inside. “We love any kind of gathering around here.”

Cricket glanced around. “Did we miss the party?” she asked, eyeing the desserts, which were still on the dining-room table.

“It wasn’t much of a party,” Pete said. “Help yourself to some snacks.”

“By all means,” Josiah said, “and if you’ll excuse
me, I think I’ll retire to the TV room. Cricket, you can join me if you like.”

Cricket looked at Pete. “He’s not very subtle, is he?”

Pete shook his head. “‘Subtle’ is not a word that’s used to describe Pop.”

Cricket followed Josiah from the room after filling a paper plate with some treats. Priscilla looked at Pete. “What just happened here?”

Pete had a feeling these women, too, were victims of Pop’s good intentions. “Have a seat,” he said. “The story’s not your typical boy-meets-girl.”

“Sounds interesting.”

He was glad to see her. Priscilla gave him a feeling none of the other women who’d visited had. “It’s always interesting with Pop. He threw me a lady shower.”

She raised a brow. “Oh, how nice for you.”

“It was.” She frowned at him, and he reconsidered his words. “I mean, it was nice that Pop did that for me, but talking to a bunch of women is taxing.”

“Oh, I’m
sure.
”

She didn’t sound sure. “It is,” he told her. “How much can a guy say to women he doesn’t know?”

“I have no idea. But I bet you gave it your best effort.”

He looked at her. She didn’t sound jealous—and part of him sort of hoped she would be.

“So he’s moved on from me and looking for a new candidate?” Priscilla asked.

“I suppose so. You know, I didn’t ask Pop what the plan had been. I just asked him not to do it again.”

“You did?”

“Yes.” He nodded, hoping she believed him. “I used to wonder why he hadn’t found me a bride. Not that I wanted one, of course. But I’d wondered if he didn’t deem me as worthy of a wife as my brothers. Maybe he didn’t see the same potential in me as a good husband, good father, good son. But since he learned about the babies, he’s gone into overdrive. I’m merely a pawn in this game of achieving his greater goal.”

She smiled. “I think he loves you very much. It’s nice when parents are concerned about their children.”

“It’s a new phase in our relationship.” He thought it was a topic best left alone and tried to change the subject. “So, pretty cold outside, huh?”

“I’d say it’s normal for February.” Priscilla helped herself to a sugar cookie. “So Suzy tried to pull a fast one on your father by inviting me.”

“Pop was amused by it,” Pete said.

“I feel a bit awkward.”

“Don’t,” he said, meaning it.

“What if we’d shown up when the party was still in full swing?”

He smiled at her. “You would have swung with the rest of us.”

She put the plate on the table. “I shouldn’t have come.” Standing, she grabbed her purse. Pete realized
she was about to make a run for the door and slipped his hand over her wrist.

“Hey,” he said, “if you leave, I’ll be stuck here with a bunch of desserts I can’t eat.”

“I really must go. I feel like a party crasher.”

He tried to be reassuring. “My father has theories, you know, but they have nothing to do with anything other than his own grandiose plans. I am my own man.”

“Josiah reminds me of the king in Cinderella who brought all the beautiful single noblewomen to the castle so his son could choose a bride from among them.”

Pete blinked. “Wasn’t that a French fairy tale? Pop’s just returned from France. He was probably sitting over there swilling the happily-ever-after wine.”

“So tonight you were the prince,” Priscilla said, and Pete glanced around him.

“See any glass slippers lying around? Shoes of any kind?” he asked.

“Just your boots.” Priscilla sat back down. “Maybe I will have a piece of cake.”

“I’
VE FIGURED OUT
a way to save my business,” Priscilla told Cricket as they drove back to Fort Wylie a few hours later. She could feel Cricket’s curious glance on her, despite the darkness of the surrounding countryside. Occasional lights from oncoming traffic on the two-lane road bounced into the car.
The bitter cold at this hour—nearly midnight—was enough to make a girl shiver. “I need a partner.”

“Named Pete Morgan?”

“No!” Priscilla shook her head. “It’s a bad idea to mix finances and friendship. I was thinking more of asking you to go into business with me.”

“You just said it was a bad idea to mix finance and friendship,” Cricket pointed out.

“Among people who have kissed,” Priscilla explained. “Then it is a bad idea, I’m sure of it.”

“I don’t think you mentioned any kissing to me.”

“Well,” Priscilla said, turning onto the highway outside of Union Junction, “it was so brief I wasn’t certain of the meaning.”

“I hate those,” Cricket said. “I prefer big, juicy smackeroos. Not that I’ve had any of those lately, but that’s what I want when I get one.”

“Well,” Priscilla said, “I would have been totally shocked if that had happened between Pete and me. It was totally genteel and respectable and possibly a bit boring. Is that my cell phone ringing?”

“I think so. Do you want me to look?”

“Can you? I don’t want to scramble for my phone while I’m driving. I can’t imagine who’d be calling me at this hour.” It was well past the time she’d normally be getting phone calls. She thought of her parents, hoping everything was all right. “Will you answer it for me? If it’s Mom, tell her I’m driving and see if everything’s okay at home, please.”

“Hello?” Cricket said into Priscilla’s phone. “Yes, this is Cricket. She’s driving right now. Can I give her a message, Pete?” She listened for a minute. “He just wants to thank us for coming out, and asks you to drive safely.” Cricket covered the phone. “What do you want me to say?”

Priscilla’s heart warmed at the kind words. “Thank you?”

“Lame, but okay.” Cricket uncovered the phone. “She says she had a wonderful time, and when’s the next matchmaking party?”

Priscilla gasped. “Cricket!”

Cricket covered the phone again. “What? I’m a deacon. No one ever tells the deacon to mind their own business.” She held the phone to Priscilla’s ear. “He wants to tell you something.”

Priscilla listened.

“Hey,” Pete said.

“Hi,” Priscilla answered.

“You’re not upset or anything, are you?”

“Why should I be?” Priscilla wouldn’t have admitted it in a million years. A tiny sliver of jealousy had needled her heart at the thought of all those women casting their lures for Pete, but she wasn’t the right woman for him, was she? She could be his friend, and only his friend.

“I just wondered,” Pete said, “since Cricket asked about another party.”

“She likes cake,” Priscilla told him, “and she likes to visit your father.”

He sighed. “It was easier when my father was a visitor, instead of a permanent resident.”

Priscilla smiled. “We did have a lot of fun last month while he was in France. But your dad is fun, too.”

“I’m going to get drapes in that house eventually,” Cricket said, joining the conversation, though not removing the phone from Priscilla’s ear.

“I just want to know,” Pete said, “if I adopt the babies by myself, will you completely run away from me?”

“No,” Priscilla said slowly, knowing why he was asking, “but I wouldn’t make a good stand-in mom, you know.”

“I know. I mean, I know that’s how you feel. Anyway, thanks for coming out.”

“Uninvited,” Priscilla said. “Which I plan to discuss with Suzy, by the way.”

“Don’t,” Pete said. “You were the bright spot of my evening.” He said goodbye and hung up, leaving Priscilla just as surprised as when he’d unexpectedly kissed her.

“You can turn off the phone,” Priscilla told Cricket. “Thanks for holding it so long.”

“What happened?” Cricket demanded. “Did you leave a shoe? Does he plan to climb your tower? Does he want to wake you up with a kiss? It’s just after midnight—something has to be happening!”

Priscilla laughed. “This is no fairy tale.”

“Well?”

“Well,” Priscilla said, “I have no idea what that was all about. I think it was a general drive-safely call, along with some flattery.”

“Ah, flattery,” Cricket said with satisfaction. “Princes are good conversationalists.”

“Not usually,” Priscilla said. “They usually just show up for the kiss.”

“Okay.” Cricket put the cell phone back in Priscilla’s purse. “You’ve got a prince who likes to gab.”

That was true. And he was talking himself straight into her heart, Priscilla realized. “I think I’d rather have one who just kisses.”

“Talking’s important.”

But Priscilla was pretty certain she and Pete had already said everything that needed to be said—and both of them knew the ending.

“Would you have gone if you’d known Mr. Morgan was having a party to introduce Pete to the local ladies?”

“No! That was embarrassing.” Priscilla smiled. “Though we’re just friends, it was still awkward.”

“I think there’s more there than friendship,” Cricket said, “but you’re going to have to consider the competition now and either dance or get off the floor.”

“It would seem grim, if I was interested in Pete, which I’m not. We’ve discussed this, Pete and I. And he understands why I’m not available for the bride hunt.”

“Does he?”

She could feel Cricket’s gaze on her. “Of course. Hence the party tonight.”

“Should I remind you how handsome he is? What a gentleman he is? That most women would jump at the chance to date him?”

“It’s okay,” Priscilla said. “There’ll be other fish in my sea.”

“All right,” Cricket said, “but a good fisher-woman would keep her hook baited if such a big catch was in sight.”

Priscilla blinked. “Trust me, I do not have the right bait for this catch. Moving on to you, do you have your hook baited in case a great catch swims your way?”

“I don’t have the right bait, either,” Cricket said with a sigh. “This is a problem we’re going to have to work on. Or we can rename your tea shop the House of Old Maids when I go into business with you.”

Priscilla perked up. “Really?”

“I think so,” Cricket said. “I like the idea of a second business wherein I’m a silent partner. Although I’ll probably gain weight because I’ll eat my proceeds.”

Priscilla smiled. “We’ll change the name of it to include you.”

“Two Spinsters Tea Shop and Etiquette Lessons?”

“No,” Priscilla said with a shake of her head. “We’re not spinsters. We’re independent women.”

“So we’ll be the Two Independent Women Tea Shop? Not very catchy, is it?”

Priscilla smiled. “How about Two Friends Tea Shop?”

Cricket nodded. “I like it. The only question I have is, are you deliberately building up your life and putting down more roots in Fort Wylie in order to avoid a certain hunky guy?”

W
HEN
P
ETE HUNG UP
the phone after speaking to Priscilla, the answer to his dilemma with Priscilla hit him like a thunderbolt. His father was right—something was bothering her. As she’d admitted, at seventeen she’d been pregnant and given away a child. In fairness to the memory of that child, she didn’t feel she could create another family.