The Bride's Matchmaking Triplets

by Regina Scott

  He chanced a glance her way to find himself slipping into the blue-green depths of her eyes.

  “Cordial,” she said, and the word held a world of doubt.

  “Friends, even,” he insisted, giving the babies an extra jiggle that made Jasper smile. “I am the minister of Little Horn, after all. I’m expected to be friendly with everyone.”

  The fire flashed once more, as if she was building up a head of steam.

  “Well, certainly we should be friends, Pastor Stillwater,” she drawled. “After all, I wouldn’t want to damage your reputation.”

  Brandon blew out a breath. She simply could not accept his word that his reputation was not the issue. “This isn’t about my standing in the community,” he tried again. “It’s about what’s best for the triplets.”

  Her look eased, and she returned her gaze to Eli, whose eyes were closed as she rocked him in the warm shade. “I suppose you’re right. They get upset even when I raise my voice.”

  So did he. He would much rather put a smile on her face, make her laugh, than be cause for consternation.

  “Then let’s start over,” Brandon suggested. “Pretend we just met.” He gave her a nod. “How do you do, Miss Dumont? I’m Brandon Stillwater, the pastor of the Little Horn church. I’d shake your hand, but mine seem to be full at the moment.”

  She shifted on the quilt, the movement making Eli crack open his eyes a moment.

  “A pleasure to meet you, Reverend,” she said softly, as if afraid to believe they could return to anything approaching normality. “I’m Elizabeth Dumont, and I have the honor of looking after these three delightful gentlemen.” Her smile faded. “At least for now.”

  Both of Brandon’s babies were nodding off as well. He crouched and laid each on the quilt. Elizabeth did the same, and he pulled up the edge to cover them all.

  “What will happen to them after I’m gone?” she asked, straightening as he did.

  She was leaving? Well, of course she’d leave if she couldn’t find employment in Little Horn. Why should that fact concern him?

  “David McKay is planning to set up a children’s home,” he told her, offering her his hand to help her rise. Her fingers were supple in his, yet they had a strength he didn’t remember from before. “I learned today we may have a house.”

  Behind him, he heard a rustling sound, as if something moved among the bushes at the end of the yard. Before he could turn and look, Elizabeth brightened. “Oh, that would be wonderful.”

  “It won’t be ready for a while,” he cautioned, focusing on her. “The railroad is building a new home for our stationmaster, Mr. Crenshaw. As he won’t be needing the one he had built before he became stationmaster, he’s offered to donate it to the church. It will need to be renovated first. Those funds will have to come from the Lone Star Cowboy League, as the church benevolence fund is empty after seeing to those affected by the drought.”

  “Will you need someone to run it?” she asked, cinnamon-colored brows up in obvious hope.

  Brandon shook his head. “I’m fairly sure the league will want a couple, and I quite agree. It won’t just be the boys, you see. Other orphans are scattered about the area, living with distant relatives or friends of the family who are hard-pressed to care for them. The house will be full before we even open the doors.”

  “I suppose it will be good for the boys to have other children around,” she allowed, tucking a strand of red hair back behind her ear. “I’ve seen how much they enjoy Maggie’s company.”

  David McKay’s eight-year-old daughter, Maggie, was something of an adventurer, climbing out of her bedroom window to escape scolds, swimming in the stream on their ranch with the skill of a fish. David had told him how she’d come to regard the triplets as her little brothers and had been inconsolable when they had to leave the Windy Diamond, the McKay ranch. She’d found solace only because she’d gained a mother in Caroline.

  “They’ll have brothers and sisters at the children’s home,” Brandon promised Elizabeth. “And I still haven’t given up hope that someone will want to adopt all three.”

  Something flickered across her face, and he wasn’t sure if it was emotion or a shadow from the tree.

  “They’re such darlings,” she murmured, gaze on her slumbering charges. “I can see Jasper as the leader, guiding his brothers. Eli is going to be the planner, determining how to make Jasper’s ideas real. And Theo will be the one who comes to his mother and confesses all before anyone gets into trouble.”

  He smiled. “Bo accused me of that often enough. Our mother had the sweetest look. One moment in her company, and you just had to unburden yourself.”

  “You have the same kind of smile that invites people to confide in you,” she said. “I’m sure everyone in your congregation finds it easy to talk to you.”

  She had, once. He could remember long walks through the park sharing hopes for the future, sitting on her aunt’s front porch talking until the stars brightened the night sky. Brandon shook his head. “You better be careful, Miss Dumont. I think you just gave me a compliment.”

  She raised her chin. “It wasn’t a compliment. It was an opinion. After all, Mr. Stillwater, we just met, remember.” She batted her lashes at him, and Brandon grinned.

  “Ahem.”

  He glanced up to find Mrs. Hickey standing at the corner of the parsonage with Mrs. Bachmeier and Amos’s wife, Susan, crowded on either side, eyes wide. Behind him, he thought he heard footsteps hurrying away, but when he glanced back, he saw no one.

  “It’s time for us to clean the parsonage, Pastor,” Mrs. Hickey announced, although he was certain the ladies had just been in to sweep and dust earlier in the week.

  Brandon offered them all a grateful smile as he turned to face them. “Very considerate of you, but everything seems fine at the moment.”

  Mrs. Hickey drew herself up. “Nonsense. We cannot have our minister living in squalor. Cleanliness is next to godliness. Everyone knows that.”

  Brandon inclined his head. “I applaud your determination. Since you feel so strongly, do what you must to rid my house of any sign of squalor, ladies. I’ll just help Miss Dumont return the triplets to the boardinghouse.”

  Mrs. Hickey brightened. “Oh, is Miss Dumont having trouble managing the little foundlings? Perhaps we should speak to Lula May McKay about finding another nanny. I always thought they would do better with one of our own instead of a stranger.”

  He was ready to protest that Elizabeth was no stranger, but she gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head. Right. She still refused to acknowledge their past in public.

  “Miss Dumont has the trust of the Lone Star Cowboy League,” Brandon assured the women. “And mine.”

  Mrs. Bachmeier and Mrs. Crenshaw nodded, but Mrs. Hickey looked disappointed. Beside him, Elizabeth offered him a smile that made him insufferably pleased with his ability to ease troubled waters.

  “Well, hurry along, then,” Mrs. Hickey ordered. “I’m sure we’ll have all kinds of questions about what to do with various items. Unless, of course, you’d just like us to sort things willy-nilly.”

  Brandon nearly groaned aloud. The last time Mrs. Hickey had organized his study, he hadn’t been able to find his sermon notes for days.

  “I’ll be right back,” he promised the ladies before turning to Elizabeth. “I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Not at all. I can see you have very important things to do, Pastor.” Her voice hinted of a laugh.

  He did have things to do, and now he had to do them with an audience. He glanced down at the babies. All three had opened their eyes and were regarding him with such seriousness he had a feeling he was supposed to beg their pardon too.

  He’d been concerned about his congregation, he’d been concerned about the triplets. Now he found himself more concerned about Eli
zabeth’s future. He knew it wouldn’t be easy finding a governess position among the ranching families surrounding Little Horn.

  But if gossip about him and Elizabeth began to spread, she might never find an employer. The Lone Star Cowboy League might even have to rescind the offer for her to care for the boys.

  It very much looked as if Elizabeth Dumont had become his responsibility. A responsibility that, for once in his life, he wasn’t sure he was capable of meeting.

  Chapter Four

  Elizabeth thought of Brandon many times over the next few days. He wanted a fresh start, a chance for the two of them to begin again as friends. She ought to accommodate. For as long as she was in Little Horn, he would be her minister. He’d promised to help her find a new position. And he clearly cared about the boys. But it was difficult shifting her heart away from the hurt of their parting four years ago.

  As Sunday rolled around, she knew she had to try harder. Like it or not, she realized, a minister’s reputation was important to his calling. She truly didn’t want to give anyone the impression she was disappointed in Brandon. She put on her best dress, a peach-colored taffeta with black lace in the center of the bodice and double rows of black bric-a-brac trimming the long sleeves and graceful hem. She combed her hair up and covered it with a peach-colored hat with a black lace veil. It was foolish, really—one baby finger poked in the wrong place would send the confection tumbling from her head, but for some reason she felt like taking the risk and looking more like a lady than a servant for once.

  It must have worked, for one of the older men in the boardinghouse spotted her as she stepped out into the hallway and volunteered to haul the cart down the stairs for her. His roommate offered to carry two of the boys while she took the third.

  “Cute little fellers,” the man who had carried the cart said with a smile that spread his thick mustache. He bent to chuck Theo under the chin as the boy snuggled in Elizabeth’s arms. The baby promptly burst into tears, and the man backed away, panic on his rugged face.

  “It’s all right,” Elizabeth said, to him and to Theo. “He’s just a little shy.”

  The ladies of Little Horn, on the other hand, were anything but shy as Elizabeth crossed the street to the churchyard. They clustered around the cart the moment she bumped it against the steps. She wasn’t sure what to do with the thing, but Mr. Tyson, a burly man with dark hair and kind eyes, helpfully angled it under the steps.

  His wife took Jasper. Annie Hill, a cheerful young blonde who helped Louisa at the doctor’s office, took Eli, and Elizabeth kept Theo. His button-brown eyes looked out of a troubled face as they all found seats near each other in the crowded church. Across the way, the boys’ previous nannies, Caroline and Louisa, smiled a welcome, each sitting beside her new husband. Elizabeth had to force herself not to look twice at Bo Stillwater, for he was identical to Brandon, sandy-haired, tall and strong.

  She made herself look at the church instead. The last time she had been inside the Little Horn chapel was when she’d discovered David McKay with Caroline. Then her gaze had been all for the couple and the minister in the wedding. Now she took note of the polished walnut pews running on either side of the aisle, the fresh whitewashed walls and the simple wood cross behind the altar. She recognized the trim figure of Constance Hickey as the woman marched up to them.

  “Here,” she said, thrusting three wrinkled pieces of paper at her. “I found these on the piano. They’re clearly for you.” She peered closer. “Who do you think left them?”

  Elizabeth had no idea. Balancing Theo on her hip, she shuffled through the simple pencil drawings. The first showed a sad-faced woman bending over a cart, the babies watchful, with pies in a circle all around them. Elizabeth had heard the story about how Brandon’s brother had found the babies in the pie tent of the county fair. Was the woman the boys’ mother? The picture was too crude to tell anything of her features or coloring.

  The second drawing showed two women with the babies between them. Caroline and Louisa, perhaps? The last showed a woman and a man in a frock coat, holding hands, and the babies circling them. Did someone know about her and Brandon’s past? She willed herself not to blush.

  Annie looked around her arm, and Elizabeth hurriedly folded the sheets closed.

  “I know,” the girl said. “Those must have come from the Good Samaritan.”

  Mrs. Hickey perked up.

  “Very likely,” Mrs. Tyson said with a nod. “Someone has been doing good deeds for the triplets since they arrived, but no one has caught sight of the person.”

  “Miss Louisa—Mrs. Stillwater—thought it might be the babies’ mother,” Annie said. “But no one’s seen a strange woman in town.”

  “Except Miss Dumont,” Mrs. Hickey said, watching Elizabeth.

  Was the woman intent on starting that rumor now? Elizabeth opened her mouth to protest, then hesitated. What would they do if she claimed to be the boys’ mother? The Lone Star Cowboy League would be bound to give her the boys. They might even help her support them.

  But no, she couldn’t lie. The boys deserved to know their parents, both the ones who had birthed them and the ones who would raise them.

  “Miss Dumont arrived in town weeks after the babies were found,” Mrs. Tyson pointed out with a look to Mrs. Hickey. “And she only came at David McKay’s request. She can’t be the triplets’ mother.”

  Mrs. Hickey sniffed. “I suppose not. But you tell this Good Samaritan, whoever he is, that I am not the postmaster.” She picked up her skirts and swept to the piano in the corner, where she positioned herself on the bench, fingers poised.

  So the boys had someone else looking out for them. Elizabeth glanced around the church again, wondering who it could be. No one seemed to be watching to see how she’d taken the drawings, but perhaps the Good Samaritan was being cautious. Still, helping the babies was a kindness. Why keep it a secret? As if the matter concerned him too, Theo cuddled closer when Elizabeth stood with the others and sang the opening hymn. In Mrs. Tyson’s arms, Jasper clapped his hands as if trying to keep time, and Eli rocked himself against Annie, wrinkling her red-and-yellow flower-printed cotton dress.

  Mr. Crenshaw, the stationmaster, came to the pulpit. He must be the deacon. Elizabeth followed along with the prayers and readings, all the while making sure her boys weren’t any more of a distraction than necessary. Her thoughts were distracted enough. Why would the Good Samaritan draw her and Brandon holding hands? Had she done something that made it appear they were a couple?

  Then Brandon stepped up to the pulpit, and she couldn’t look away. At more than six feet tall, he had had a presence even when he was just a student at the divinity school. Now, though his brown frock coat, waistcoat and trousers were plain and functional, he looked every inch the compassionate, dedicated minister. He leaned forward and smiled, and the whole church seemed to brighten.

  “We’ve been talking about the Israelites leaving Egypt,” he said, glancing around at the people who had come to worship. Elizabeth found herself trying to catch his gaze and chided herself. She no longer had to posture for Brandon’s attentions. She had more important matters to attend to. She turned her smile on Theo, who smiled back.

  “God provided the Israelites a way through obstacles, both natural and made by human hands,” he continued, voice warm and thoughtful as he straightened. “Through a series of plagues, He convinced the King of Egypt to let them go free from slavery. With a miracle, He made a way for thousands of people to pass through the Red Sea unharmed. He guided them by day and by night.”

  How nice to have a God so attentive, to work such wonders. Of course, He’d likely had to perform such feats to save a nation from bondage. That didn’t mean she should expect Him to do the same for her and the boys. Didn’t the Bible say not to put the Lord God to the test?

  “Without God’s help,” Brandon was expla
ining, silver gaze ever-moving, “they would have continued in slavery. Even the right to raise sons was denied them. They were, in effect, orphans, until God made them His family.”

  She glanced at the boys. All three had turned their heads toward Brandon. They knew the sound of his voice, trusted it enough to listen. When had she lost such childlike faith?

  Could she find it again?

  On the altar, Brandon leaned toward the congregation again with a smile, as if he was about to impart a secret. “We have among us today a number of orphans, children left by parents who passed on or could no longer pay their way. They too are part of God’s family. And I believe God is calling on us to help them.”

  Around her, men straightened on the wooden pews, ladies raised their heads.

  “Even though the drought appears to be behind us, for which we thank God, the effects remain for many in our community,” he told them. “Times for them are hard. We cannot allow our hearts to grow hard as well. Jesus welcomed the little children, warned against hindering them from learning about Him. And He said that when we offer a cup of cool water or a set of warm clothes to those in need, we offer them to Him. There are many needs in Little Horn. Pray this week about what God would have you do to help meet them.”

  Elizabeth glanced at Mrs. Tyson to see her wipe a tear from her cheek. Annie held Eli as if she’d never let him go. Theo turned in Elizabeth’s arms and gazed at her so somberly she could not forget that she was the one he and his brothers relied upon.

  Am I doing what You want me to do, Father?

  Just then the piano began tinkling under Mrs. Hickey’s fingers, and the congregation rose for the concluding hymn. Elizabeth would have liked a moment or two to think about what Brandon had said, but as soon as the song ended, she was surrounded.

  “I kept some of our sons’ baby things,” Mrs. Tyson said, rubbing a hand over Theo’s dark hair and earning her a frown from the touchy baby. “They certainly aren’t going to need them again. I’ll bring them to you this week.”