She’d dated so many guys she’d lost track of the number, ever hopeful that one of them would be The One. After four years, she’d met some interesting men, but none with whom she wanted to establish a relationship. Obviously this was a major snag in her plan for a husband and a family, but she refused to let it get in the way of her determination to have a baby.
It had never occurred to her that she would end up with more than one. As far as she knew, there was no history of multiples on either side of her family. Apparently she was just lucky.
And she knew that she was. She had the children she’d always wanted, but she hadn’t considered—couldn’t have imagined—how much of a struggle it would be to raise them on her own. Thankfully, she didn’t have to. She had her parents to help. But it wasn’t the same as having a partner to share not just all the milestones in the lives of their children but all the moments of their own. “For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer...”
Not that she needed a man to complete her life, but she was admittedly a little worried that the choices she’d made might not have been the best choices for her children. She’d decided to have a baby because it was what she wanted and, in retrospect, she had to acknowledge that it might have been a selfish decision. She hadn’t given a lot of thought to what was best for her babies, or what it would be like for them to grow up without a father. She’d been so determined to prove that she could do it on her own she hadn’t considered that maybe she shouldn’t.
She knew a lot of women who weren’t just single moms but proof that a woman could do it all. But none of those single moms had triplets. Of course, it was far too late to make a different choice now. And when she entered her parents’ living room and saw them with her babies, she was reminded once again that although she was technically a single parent, she wasn’t doing it alone. Ava, Max and Sam might not have a father, but they had amazing grandparents who would—and did—do anything for them.
“Look who’s home,” Bev announced.
Three little heads turned, three smiles beamed and Macy’s heart filled to overflowing, assuring her again that she didn’t need a man to make her life complete. She had everything she needed right here.
But when she went to sleep that night, she dreamed of being snuggled in Liam’s embrace.
* * *
Macy could understand why Tessa’s parents had planned a big bash for her first birthday, and even why Katelyn had invited her and Ava, Max and Sam. But when she’d accepted the invitation, Macy obviously hadn’t been thinking about the logistics of taking three babies out on her own, in the middle of winter, when she would have to haul not just the kids but all their essential paraphernalia through snow, up the long drive—already packed with vehicles—to the house.
“Why did I agree to this?” She muttered the question to herself as she unbuckled Sam from his car seat.
“Because there will be cake.”
Macy jolted at the unexpected response and turned, her cheeks flushing, to face the amused birthday girl’s mom.
“I was talking to myself,” she confessed.
“I do that all the time,” Katelyn told her.
“She does,” her husband—the sheriff—confirmed.
“Because my husband doesn’t listen,” his wife said pointedly. “But he does have two strong arms, which is why we came out to give you a hand.”
“I appreciate it,” Macy said, as Reid took the baby from her. “I don’t often venture out on my own with all three of them, so I sometimes forget how much stuff they need.”
“Liam claims that I look like a Sherpa when I’m hauling Tessa’s gear—and she’s only one kid,” Kate noted, reaching into the vehicle to unbuckle Ava from the middle baby seat.
After she transferred the little girl to her husband’s other arm, she moved around the vehicle to get Max while Macy opened the back of her SUV.
“You won’t need your playpen,” Reid told her. “We’ve got an enclosure set up inside that’s big enough for all the little ones.”
“That simplifies things,” Macy agreed, sliding the diaper bag onto her shoulder.
“And what is that?” Katelyn demanded, when Macy reached for the gift bag stuffed with pink tissue.
“Just a little something for the birthday girl.”
“Did I forget to say best wishes only?”
“You didn’t,” Macy admitted. “But Ava, Max and Sam wanted to bring a little something.”
“So they’re responsible, are they?” the hostess asked, clearly skeptical of this claim.
“You’re not going to scold my babies, are you?”
Kate shook her head. “I might, but they’re just too cute.” She looked at the little boy in her arms. “I guess the boys get their green eyes from their dad?”
Macy was used to fielding questions about her babies’ paternity—and often much less subtle ones—so she responded easily, “Well, there’s no green on my side of the family.”
“And since we don’t want them turning blue from the cold, we should get them inside,” Reid interjected.
As they moved toward the house, Macy thanked them again for their help with Ava, Max and Sam. Once inside, it was fairly quick work—with Kate and Reid’s assistance—to get the triplets out of their snowsuits and into the secure enclosure with the other little ones in attendance. Macy recognized Tessa, of course, but the little boy with her didn’t look familiar.
Before she could ask, the parents of the birthday girl went off in different directions, but a moment later another woman approached, a baby girl in her arms.
Noting the arrival of three new babies, she said, “You must be Macy,” and shifted her baby to offer a hand.
“I guess being the mom of triplets has made me infamous.”
“Katelyn described you as Wonder Woman without the sword and shield.”
Macy laughed. “A flattering—if completely inaccurate—description.”
“I’m Emerson,” the other woman said. “Kate’s oldest and best friend, and mom to Keegan—” she gestured to the boy with Tessa “—almost two-and-a-half, and Karlee, eight months.”
“Mine are eight months, too,” Macy told her.
“I know,” Emerson said. “They’re in the same story-time group as Karlee at the library.”
“I didn’t know that. I don’t make it to story-time with them.”
“You shouldn’t feel guilty. Your mom and Frieda seem to enjoy it as much as the kids. And Kate says you’ve been a godsend to Liam and the inn.”
“I know it’s early days yet, but I love working there.”
“I’ve been bugging Mark to book a room for our anniversary,” Emerson confided. “Usually we go out of town, but with Karlee being so young, I don’t want to be too far away. Not to mention that I’ve been dying to see the place.”
“You don’t have to book a room to get a tour,” Macy said. “Stop by anytime that I’m there and I’d be happy to show you around. Although I promise, you’ll be even more eager to stay there after the tour.”
“Then I’m definitely going to come for the tour—and to book the room,” Emerson promised.
Another mom came over to talk to Emerson then, and Macy excused herself to get a drink. The non-alcoholic punch was pink—no doubt to coordinate with the other decorations in the oversized family room that had been designated as the party spot. There were bouquets of balloons and streamers and banners and paper lanterns and floral centerpieces. Macy made mental notes of what she liked (everything!) and the variations she might consider for her triplets (2:1 ratio of blue and pink decorations).
She sipped her punch and smiled to see Tessa plucked out of the enclosure by a man she recognized as Caleb Gilmore. Liam’s younger brother was as tall—and nearly as handsome—with light brown hair, hazel eyes and the powerful build of a rancher, which Macy knew him to be. Skylar wa
s there, too, of course, as were Tessa’s great-grandparents. Jack and Evelyn Gilmore were still involved with the daily operation of the ranch as well as contributing to the larger community.
“Me-um! Me-um!” Tessa called, toddling across the floor toward her uncle when Liam finally arrived.
“There’s the birthday girl.” He scooped her into his arms and planted a noisy kiss on her cheek.
Tessa giggled.
The interaction made Macy smile—and marvel again at the man’s inherent contradictions. How could he claim that he didn’t really like kids when it was obvious he adored his niece—and that she adored him right back?
Regardless of the answer to that question, Macy wasn’t going to let herself adore the man. She had other priorities right now—and Ava, Max and Sam were at the top of the list—so she turned back to the punch bowl to refill her cup and found David Gilmore with the ladle in his hand.
“Can I top you up?” he offered.
“Yes, please.” She held her cup toward him.
“You’re Bev and Norm’s daughter Macy, aren’t you?” he asked her.
“I am,” she confirmed. It wasn’t uncommon in Haven for people who hadn’t been introduced to at least share acquaintances. As a result, she was accustomed to being referred to in connection with her parents—or as the sister of her brothers. Since returning to Haven, she’d frequently been referred to as “the triplets’ mother,” but now she was also known as “the manager of the inn”—a title she wore proudly.
“How are your folks doing?” David wondered.
“They should be enjoying their retirement,” she acknowledged. “Instead, they’ve taken on new careers as daycare providers to those three.” Macy gestured to the enclosure where the triplets—and a few other little ones—were confined.
“Being a grandparent is the best job in the world,” he said, and sounded as if he meant it. “I know Tessa’s just a year old, but I almost can’t wait for Katelyn and Reid to give her a little brother or sister.”
“Well, you’re going to have to,” Kate said, obviously having overheard her father’s remark. “Because I’d like to get my first kid out of diapers before I have a second one.”
“Macy seems to manage well enough and she’s got three in diapers,” David pointed out, with a conspiratorial wink in her direction.
“I only manage well enough because I’ve got so much help at home,” she was quick to clarify.
“And if you’re so eager for another grandchild, you’ve got three other kids who could help you out,” Kate suggested.
“Caleb isn’t ready to settle down, Sky would rather poke into a man’s brain than win his heart, and Liam’s too busy playing at being an innkeeper to make any effort to find a suitable wife.”
Macy sipped her punch and wished she was anywhere but in the middle of what she sensed was a family argument brewing—especially when Liam drew nearer. Maybe she could slip away on the pretext of checking on her babies, but they were currently being fussed over by Liam’s grandparents and basking in the attention.
“And what kind of woman do you think would make a suitable wife?” Liam wondered, joining the conversation. “No, wait. Let me guess—a woman who would convince me to sell the inn and come back to live and work on the ranch?”
“Gilmores are ranchers,” David said, his tone growing steely.
Kate exhaled a weary sigh. “Can we please not do this at my daughter’s birthday party?”
“We’re just having a conversation,” her father said.
“A conversation that’s quickly going to turn into an argument,” she predicted.
“No, it’s not,” Liam promised.
And then, to be sure, he set his glass on the table and walked out of the room.
* * *
Macy didn’t want to interfere in something that was clearly none of her business. But during the brief exchange between her boss and his father, she couldn’t help but notice that Liam had been gripping his glass so tight his knuckles had gone white. So when he set that glass down and slipped away from the gathering, she double-checked that Ava, Max and Sam were in capable hands and then followed.
She saw him disappear through the back door, and quickly grabbed her coat and shoved her feet into her boots. He was already halfway to the barn while she was still pushing her arms into her sleeves.
When she muscled open the door of the barn, her senses were immediately assailed by the scents of fresh hay, oiled leather and horses. She hadn’t grown up on a ranch, but she’d always loved horses and had learned to ride at a young age. Of course, it had been years since she’d been on the back of a horse, but the familiar setting brought the memories—and an unexpected longing to climb into the saddle—rushing back.
She closed the door again and took a moment to allow her eyes to adjust to the dim light. As she made her way down the concrete aisle, she noted the shiny nameplates on the stall doors and the glossy coats of the equines within. The Gilmores obviously took pride in and care of their animals—of course, they could afford to do so as the Circle G was one of the most prosperous cattle ranches in northern Nevada.
She found Liam inside a birthing stall at the far end of the barn.
“What are you doing out here?” he asked.
“I was going to ask you the same question,” she said.
“I just needed some air,” he told her.
“You must have needed that air pretty desperately,” she remarked. “You rushed out of the house without even grabbing a jacket.”
He shrugged. “I knew I wasn’t going very far.”
“Who’s this?” she asked, stroking the long nose of an obviously pregnant dappled mare who’d come over to greet her visitor.
“That’s Mystery.”
“You don’t know her name?”
He managed a half smile. “Her name is Mystery,” he clarified. “While we were growing up, all the kids took turns naming the foals that were born. This one came when it was Sky’s turn, and she demanded to know if it was a boy or a girl. At that point, only her head and forelegs were out, so Grandad said it was a mystery, and Sky decided that was a good name.”
“And when is Mystery going to have her own mystery foal?” Macy asked.
“Any day now,” he said, stroking his hands over the mare’s swollen flank. “But probably not today.”
“That’s too bad,” she remarked. “I’m sure birthing a foal would be a welcome diversion—although checking on a pregnant horse serves the same purpose.”
He didn’t respond to that but gave the horse a last affectionate pat before he unlatched the gate and exited the stall.
Macy tried again. “Families are complicated, huh?”
“Yeah,” he finally agreed.
“Anything you want to talk about?” she prompted.
“Nope.”
She sighed. “It’s obvious that there’s some tension between you and your dad.”
“And, like I said, it’s not anything I want to talk about,” he told her.
“I’ve been told that I’m a pretty good listener.”
“You’re also a really good kisser,” he noted, tugging on the belt of her jacket to draw her toward him. “And I prefer kissing over conversation.”
“Now you’re trying to distract me,” she accused, but even knowing it was true, she couldn’t resist the temptation of his embrace.
“Is it working?”
Before she could respond to his question, his mouth was on hers.
And, yeah, it was working.
Very effectively.
And just like the first time he’d kissed her—or she’d kissed him—her mind went blank and her body came alive.
She lifted her hands to his shoulders, holding on to him as the world tilted and swayed beneath her feet. She’d almost managed to convince herse
lf that the kiss they’d shared couldn’t possibly have been as amazing as she remembered. That her body, long deprived of any adult male attention, had conspired with her overactive imagination to turn the memory of that kiss into more than it had been.
But his second kiss proved otherwise. If anything, her memory had not done the first one justice.
Was it Liam? Was this incredible chemistry specific to him? Or were her hormones overactive because of all the changes her body had been through, carrying and birthing three babies? She wanted to believe it was just hormones, and yet she suspected otherwise. She’d had plenty of male customers flirt with her at Diggers’, and she’d received a few interesting propositions—but not one that had tempted her. No man she’d met had made her remember that she was a woman, with a woman’s wants and needs. No one before Liam. Before now.
He banded an arm around her waist, gently drawing her closer. Even through her puffy coat, she could feel the heat emanating from his body—a heat that warmed the blood flowing through her veins. He skimmed his tongue over her lips, and they parted willingly for him. She wanted this—wanted him—with a desperation she couldn’t remember experiencing in a very long time. Or maybe ever.
“Let’s sneak up to the hayloft and pretend the rest of the world doesn’t exist for an hour,” he suggested against her lips.
Yes. Oh, please, yes.
But while her hormones were running rampant through her system, her brain was still in charge of her mouth, and she managed to hold that desperately needy response inside her head. She drew in a slow, steadying breath before responding lightly, “I’ve never had a literal roll in the hay.”
“We could change that right now,” he offered.
She laughed, a little weakly, and took a step back. A not-so-subtle retreat from the temptation he represented. “You’re a dangerous man, Liam Gilmore.”
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