The Bride's Matchmaking Triplets

by Regina Scott

  But once Brandon set out with them in the wagon he had borrowed from the Crenshaws, they brightened and gazed about themselves with wide eyes as they sat on Elizabeth’s lap.

  Elizabeth was just as interested. Though she’d seen a little of the country around Little Horn when she’d come in on the train, she had spent her first week and a half in town. Now the land opened up around her. Golden grasses waved from either side, while live oaks grew in clusters, their leaves whispering in the breeze as if they spoke to each other. Hills rose in the distance, and she thought she saw the flash of red and white that spoke of cattle moving in the shade.

  “As wild as you wanted?” Brandon asked.

  She smiled at him. Today, he was once more the quintessential minister, coat and waistcoat somber, shirt crisp and collar stiff. His only concession to the warm, sunny day was the dun-colored hat on his head. She’d heard such hats were called Stetsons, for their maker, and that they were required wear in Texas. The broad brim shaded his eyes, making them look deeper, darker. She forced herself to return her gaze to the scenery.

  “It’s more beautiful than I expected,” she said, watching the swirling blue-green waters of a stream that wound through the valley. Something flashed, and she realized it was a fish jumping.

  “It’s good to see new growth,” Brandon said with a nod toward the wildflowers that poked up heads of red and orange along the bank. “We’ve had a drought for the last six months. It’s been hard on the cattle and crops alike.”

  “Will everyone have enough for winter?” she asked, settling Theo a little closer on her lap. On the other side, Eli reached out and grasped his brother’s hand.

  “Very likely now that we’ve had some rain. But the winters here are very different from what we lived through in Cambridge. The nights are cooler, but the days are still pleasant. You can grow crops right through, so long as you have water. And no snow.”

  Elizabeth turned her gaze on him, noting the smile hovering about his lips. “None?”

  He shook his head. “Not a flake. I heard one tried to land on Clyde Parker’s ranch once, but he shot it down.”

  She stared at him a moment, then burst out in a laugh that made Theo and Eli smile. “Now I know you’re teasing me.”

  He held up one hand, the other firm on the reins. “It’s the truth—I promise. In the four years I’ve lived in Little Horn, it’s never snowed once.”

  Elizabeth gazed out at the land again, marveling. All her life, she’d spent the winter bundled up against the cold, inside and out. Jasper, Theo and Eli would never have to put woolens on under their clothes to keep warm or duck past eaves to avoid icicles. But that also meant they’d never sled, skate on an icy pond or build a snowman.

  “It’s different here,” she said.

  He sobered. “It is, and it isn’t. The animals and plants might look unusual, and the weather is more mild, but people are the same wherever you go.”

  That could also be a good thing or a bad thing as far as she was concerned. People had been unkind in Cambridge after her uncle’s thefts had been uncovered. Even though that was four years ago, would the people of Little Horn turn on her if they knew about the scandal? And what of Brandon? Would he really put aside his reputation to come to her aid?

  She drew in a breath. Best not to think about things that might never come to pass. She should focus on what was happening now. She kept her arms around the boys as the wagon bumped over uneven ground. As if they thought it was for their entertainment, they giggled.

  “They were born to be ranchers,” Brandon said with a smile.

  “Do you think so?” She eyed both boys, who were poking at each other good-naturedly.

  “Their mother couldn’t have come from too far away,” he reasoned. “And most people around here are ranchers or farmers. That’s what they raise their children to become.”

  Elizabeth frowned. “You make it sound as if the children have no choice. What if one wants to be a poet or an artist?”

  He shrugged. “It wouldn’t be easy to make a living as a poet in Little Horn. Not too many opportunities for sponsors. And only so many people can afford paintings or have a place to hang them. The closest thing we have to an artist is Mrs. Longfeather, and she has to travel around the area to the other towns to sell enough of her jewelry to make ends meet.”

  Elizabeth settled the boys closer. “Well, I say the triplets can be anything they want. Isn’t that right, boys?”

  Theo and Eli chattered at her, faces animated.

  “Far be it from me to argue with such logic,” Brandon said with a smile. “If I had my say, every child in Little Horn would grow up with a bright future. No one would be sad or scared or lonely.”

  The faces of their young visitors at the picnic Sunday came to mind, peaked, unsure, yet willing to offer friendship to three orphaned babies.

  “And some apparently are,” she told him. “When you were talking to Annie on Sunday, two children came to see the boys. The girl didn’t speak, but her brother said she was Jo and he was Gil.”

  Brandon nodded. “The Satlers. Their father died a couple of years ago. Their mother tried to make a go of the farm, but she took ill and passed on this spring. No one’s been able to get a word out of Jo since.”

  The poor thing! “They’re some of the children you hope to help with the new children’s home, aren’t they?”

  “Them and several others in the county. It’s best if family can keep the children in familiar surroundings. But sometimes circumstances make that impossible.”

  “Like with the triplets,” she acknowledged. “No mother, no father, no known family.”

  He nodded. “Exactly. Mind you, I had some doubts when I heard David had proposed an orphanage. I suspect I was remembering my Dickens—cold, dark workhouses and stern taskmasters.”

  “‘Please, sir, I want some more?’” Elizabeth quoted from Oliver Twist. “Surely your children’s home will be better than that!”

  He flashed her a grin that made something flutter inside her. The boys wiggled as if they wanted to get closer to him too.

  “Of course,” he said. “You should hear the plans David has for it. Bedrooms instead of a dormitory, a mother and father to manage things. The Crenshaw house is just across the street from the school and church, so the children can easily attend both, and you can be sure I’ll be checking in often.”

  Like he did with the boys. Commendable. Boston had had an infant asylum for motherless babies like the triplets, but she seemed to recall an annual inspection by the clergy, not the watchful care Brandon supplied.

  A butterfly bobbed over the wagon just then, and Eli reached for it. She held him back from damaging the fragile wings. Theo patted his shoulder as if in sympathy.

  Elizabeth had more sympathy for the changing landscape. Here the grass was withered, missing entirely in places to show blackened ground beneath. The dirt shifted in the breeze like a writhing snake. The scent of charred wood seemed to hang in the air. Eli wrinkled his nose as if he smelled it too.

  “What happened here?” she asked.

  “Wildfire,” Brandon explained. “The same storm that broke the drought brought lightning. The skies were red for miles.”

  Elizabeth hugged the boys close. “Does that happen often?”

  “Not too often, but still too frequently,” Brandon said. “You wanted adventure, remember?”

  Perhaps not quite that much adventure to see homes damaged and lives threatened. For the moment, she was content to ride alongside him with the boys in her arms.

  He pulled off the road onto a dusty track that led up to a long, low house and a weathered barn. A man was out front, setting a bar back into the corral fence. He stopped and watched as Brandon reined in the horses, but his bearded face broke into a grin as his gaze rested on Elizabeth and
the babies.

  Tug Coleman was a large man who seemed to be in his midforties, his broad shoulders and rough clothing making him look as if he were chiseled from the rocks that ringed his ranch. He ambled over now and held the horses as Brandon climbed down.

  “Mornin’, Pastor,” he said. “What brings you out this way?”

  Was that wariness she heard in his gruff voice? Was he feeling a bit guilty for not working harder to mend the rift between his family and the Hills?

  Brandon clapped him on the shoulder before continuing around the team to Elizabeth’s side. “Miss Dumont and her charges needed some fresh air, and I knew you would welcome our young gentlemen.”

  Tug’s grin widened. “Of course I will. Always loved children. Makes me sad mine are all nearly grown. And I know the girls will be disappointed they missed this. They’re off helping at the Carsons’ with my two youngest sons.” He raised his voice. “Jamie! Company!”

  Theo and Eli blinked as if impressed by his volume.

  A young man loped out of the barn. Unlike his dark-haired father, he had hair the color of ripened wheat, and there was something warm and likable about his handsome features. So this was Annie’s betrothed. He took his father’s place at the head of the team with a welcoming smile to Elizabeth and Brandon.

  Tug came around and opened his arms. “You just hand me those young’uns, Miss Dumont. We’ll see they have some fun.”

  With that smile on his face, Elizabeth could well believe it. She handed him Eli first. The baby settled against his broad chest, then reached up to finger Tug’s bearded chin as if fascinated by the hair. Theo went next, lower lip trembling. But he rested his head against Tug as if sure he’d be safe in the big man’s arms.

  Tug’s craggy face softened. “Well, aren’t you little gents?”

  Brandon stepped up beside him and raised his arms. “Allow me to assist you, Miss Dumont.”

  For a moment, she could see herself nestled close, head on Brandon’s shoulder, feeling equally safe and comforted. She shook herself and managed a smile as he lifted her from the bench and set her on her feet. As she stood in his embrace, he bent his head, and she had the insane notion that he meant to kiss her. Even more insane was her reaction. She could feel her lips pursing in anticipation!

  Instead, Brandon’s breath brushed her ear. “It’s working already. Well done, Elizabeth.”

  If he’d known the direction of her thoughts, she was fairly sure he would not be offering such praise.

  He straightened before she could comment on her plan or the fact that he had used her first name. Very likely it had been habit from their days of courting, but she found she liked the sound of it even more now. It had been a long time since a gentleman had called her Elizabeth. With her employers and charges, she had always been Miss Dumont. The name felt distant somehow, as if it were meant to be changed to something more important.

  Like Mother.

  Tug was jiggling the babies up and down so that they giggled. As Brandon went to help Jamie with the horses, Elizabeth mastered her wayward thoughts and smiled at their host.

  “Pastor Stillwater said you are good with children,” she told him.

  A rosy red suffused his broad cheeks. “I’ve had a lot of experience. My sweet Hazel gave me three sons and two daughters.”

  She thought those blue eyes looked brighter. Eli must have thought so too, for he patted the rancher’s shoulder and chattered his support.

  “How long has she been gone?” Elizabeth murmured.

  “Five years,” he answered, stilling his movement of the babies. “But the ache of her passing has eased some.” He glanced up, then his brows came thundering down. “What’s she doing here?”

  Elizabeth followed his gaze to the ranch road, where a wagon and team were kicking up the dust that had barely settled after the passing of Brandon’s wagon. Through the cloud, she spotted Annie at the reins, an older woman beside her.

  “I let Mrs. Hill know the babies would be out her way,” Elizabeth told him. “She loves children too.”

  “Humph” was all Tug Coleman could say as the wagon drew to a stop near the barn. Elizabeth’s plan was about to reach the next phase. She could only hope she hadn’t landed herself and Brandon in trouble.

  * * *

  Brandon closed the corral after his borrowed team and hurried to where Dorothy Hill sat glowering on the bench of her wagon. Already Jamie was going to help Annie down, completely ignoring the team of horses fretting in the traces. Worse, Brandon could see that Elizabeth’s smile had turned brittle as the ranchers faced off.

  “Mrs. Hill,” Brandon said, going to the lady’s side. “How nice to see you.”

  She stuck her stub of a nose in the air. Everything about Dorothy Hill was no-nonsense, from her short, stiff blond hair to her solid frame. Now her pale pink lips thinned into an unforgiving line.

  “It’s nice to see the babies,” she allowed, somehow managing to avoid looking at Tug. “But it was a long way to come on a busy wash day. And now this.” Her lips tightened.

  Brandon wasn’t sure whether it was the sight of Tug or something else that had set her off. “This?” he asked.

  She glared down at him. “I wouldn’t expect a fine gent like you to understand, Pastor, but someone needs to see to my horses.”

  “That’s a Hill for you,” Tug shot back. “Always blaming someone else for something they should have done.”

  Jamie, who had been murmuring something in Annie’s ear, left her to hurry forward and take charge of the team.

  “Don’t unhitch them,” Dorothy ordered. “I won’t be staying long.” She twitched aside her iron-gray skirts and offered Brandon her hand to help her step down from the bench.

  Elizabeth hurried up to her as she descended. “How do you do, Mrs. Hill? I’m Elizabeth Dumont, and I’m delighted to make your acquaintance. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  Foot on the ground, Dorothy eyed Tug. “Nothing good, I warrant.”

  Elizabeth colored. “Actually, quite good. I’ve heard you know how to raise children well, and I was hoping to ask your advice. Caring for three babies is such a delight, but at times I simply feel overwhelmed.”

  Did she? From what Brandon had seen, she managed the challenge brilliantly. But there was no doubting the earnestness of her gaze. He wanted to step in and help her himself.

  Dorothy was no more immune to the plea. Her look softened. “I imagine it can be hard. My three boys were a few years apart, and they were still a handful. I’d be glad to help.”

  Elizabeth took her arm and drew her closer to Tug. The gruff rancher stiffened, and Theo let out a wail.

  Dorothy shook her head. “Now see what you’ve done? Give him to me.”

  Mouth set tight, Tug handed her the crying baby. Brandon fought the urge to intervene. As if Elizabeth sensed his confliction, she laid a hand on his arm. Those blue-green eyes were encouraging.

  “There, now,” Dorothy crooned in a sweet, soft voice Brandon had never heard come from her mouth before. “It’s all right, little man. Tug Coleman might be big and brash, but he’s been a good father to his little ones.”

  Tug stared at her. So did Theo. Then he sighed and laid his head on her shoulder, thumb going to his mouth.

  “Well, look at that,” Tug marveled. “I’m impressed. You know your way around a baby.”

  Dorothy granted him a tight smile. “I should. I birthed four of them.”

  “And a fine bunch they are,” Brandon put in. “You are both to be commended for raising a family alone.”

  Dorothy nodded, and Tug looked thoughtful. Brandon could only hope Tug was finally realizing he and Dorothy Hill had something in common.

  “I’m sure it wasn’t easy,” she allowed, “raising girls with no ma.”

  Tug shrug
ged. “No harder than raising boys with no pa, I reckon.”

  Dorothy reddened. “So you think my boys aren’t manly enough, do you?”

  Beside him, Elizabeth stiffened. Brandon felt the shift in the wind as well.

  “That’s not what Tug said,” he put in, but Tug had already drawn himself up.

  “They’re fine boys,” he insisted, jiggling Eli, “despite their upbringing.”

  “Oh, I see what you’re trying to do,” Dorothy told him, jiggling Theo. “You just can’t acknowledge I could be better than you, at anything.”

  Theo glanced up at her angry face and whimpered.

  “You’re upsetting the baby,” Tug accused.

  Eli began crying as well.

  “Perhaps I should take them,” Elizabeth said, stepping forward with concern on her face.

  Dorothy held Theo out of reach. “I was doing fine until a certain fellow raised his voice!”

  “Both of them were fine before you showed up,” Tug countered.

  Both babies were howling now, tears streaming down their faces. Annie left Jamie’s side to hurry toward them.

  Brandon stepped between the ranchers. “That’s enough. Mrs. Hill, give Theo to Elizabeth. Tug, hand me Eli.”

  He must have put enough authority in his voice, because both complied. It took a few minutes, but he and Elizabeth managed to calm the boys. To do them credit, Dorothy and Tug looked more concerned about the boys than their feud, for once.

  Annie, however, was inconsolable. Face sagging, she glanced between the babies, then at her mother and Jamie’s father.

  “You’ll never be civil, will you?” she demanded. “Nothing I say, nothing Pastor Stillwater says, will ever satisfy you. I thought spending time with the babies would bring you to your senses, but you can’t even be nice for them. I don’t know why I even hoped.”