The Bride's Matchmaking Triplets

by Regina Scott

  “No consideration should be needed,” he blustered. “You won’t get a better offer than mine, missy.”

  Elizabeth looked more calm. “Thank you for coming, Mr. Parker. I won’t detain you.”

  He huffed, then turned on his heel. His brows rose a moment when he sighted Brandon, but then he jerked his head back toward Elizabeth.

  “Pastor, you tell this woman she ought to stop all this considerin’ and just marry me.”

  Chapter Eight

  Of all the nerve! Elizabeth could hardly speak. Truly, it was no wonder Mr. Parker hadn’t remarried if all his proposals involved ordering his prospective bride to the altar.

  Brandon’s brows shot up as if he was just as shocked. Then he made the effort to school his face, brows coming down, mouth tightening and chin rising.

  “I’m not sure Miss Dumont realizes the honor you’re doing her,” he told the rancher.

  What! Elizabeth gritted her teeth. Surely Brandon couldn’t take the fellow seriously.

  “She doesn’t,” Parker complained. “I left my stock to ride all the way in here, even put on my Sunday hat.”

  Brandon nodded at the dun-colored Stetson. “And a fine hat it is too. No, I’m sure she hasn’t given proper weight to your proposal. After all, even though you are considerably older than she is, with less education and a gruff manner, you are one of the town’s most noted misanthropes.”

  Elizabeth was fairly sure Mr. Parker had no idea what the term meant, for he puffed out his chest. “Quite right!” He paused, brows gathering like storm clouds. “Wait. What did you just call me?”

  Brandon smiled. “My brother, Bo, always says you can call a man anything, just don’t call him late to supper.”

  Parker blinked.

  Brandon turned smoothly to Elizabeth. “And speaking of supper, I believe it must be time for the triplets to eat. We would not want to keep you from your duty, Miss Dumont. After all, the Lone Star Cowboy League is paying good money for your time.”

  “Quite right, Mr. Stillwater,” Elizabeth said, fighting to keep her face solemn. “And I take my responsibilities seriously.”

  “Commendable.” He turned to Annie, who was watching from the bed with the babies, and gave her a nod. “Miss Hill. Please give my regards to your family, whom I hope you will be seeing soon. Come along, Parker. I’d like your advice on the children’s home. It’s vitally important that we trim the cost without sacrificing quality.” He took the rancher’s arm and led him from the room, but just before he closed the door, he sent Elizabeth a wink and a grin.

  Well!

  Annie heaved a sigh. “It must be nice having someone fight for you instead of fighting around you.”

  Elizabeth shook her head. How did he do that, smile at a ridiculous situation and get his own way at the same time? Very likely Mr. Parker was listening to him talk about the children’s home only to give in on some point the rancher had once held dear. And Mr. Parker would probably thank Brandon for it!

  “You don’t always have to fight,” she told Annie, going to the bed and picking up Eli, who grinned at her with the same amount of mischief in his eyes. “Sometimes, you just have to stand your ground.”

  “And sometimes you have to walk away,” Annie insisted. Theo latched on to her finger and tried to put it in his mouth. Annie pulled back with a giggle.

  “I think Pastor Stillwater was right. We better feed these hungry little birds.”

  It was easy for Elizabeth to forget her offers—employment in far-off San Francisco or marriage to crotchety Clyde Parker—while she and Annie fed the triplets, cleaned them up and kept them busy until bedtime. And it was nice having someone to help her change just as she helped Annie change into a spare nightgown. But as Elizabeth lay on the bed, listening to Annie’s and the boys’ soft breathing, her mind kept going over her options.

  Despite Brandon’s comments, she thought San Francisco could be a good place to start over. From what she’d read in the newspapers and novels, an upper class was growing, building fine houses, chartering civic improvements. People like that often employed governesses, so that she might be assured of ongoing situations. But it meant moving farther away from anything she’d known, living with strangers just when she was starting to feel comfortable in Little Horn.

  Then there was Clyde Parker. Mrs. Arundel had said he had a fine ranch, so he likely could provide for a wife. If Elizabeth married him, she wouldn’t have to leave Little Horn. But he had such a domineering manner. She could see him insisting that she act a certain way, think a certain way. She’d be trading her freedom for a mess of porridge.

  And both choices meant she could never adopt the triplets, for Parker had made it clear he had little use for children. Given his age, she could well find herself a lonely widow in the not-too-distant future. She shuddered at the image.

  Staring up into the dark of the room, she opened her heart.

  Lord, Brandon was right to say that we should pray about what You would have us do. But for so long, I haven’t felt as if You were listening. And if You are listening, I don’t hear Your answer. What should I do? Was the letter from San Francisco Your way of nudging me farther West? Or am I to make my way here somehow?

  From their side of the room came a sigh from one of the boys, and she heard shifting as if one rolled closer to another in the crib. How fortunate they were to have siblings, someone to rely on in bad times and celebrate with in good. That was what she wanted in her life—friends, family, helpmates to cheer and comfort. She couldn’t convince herself that either the work in San Francisco or marriage to Clyde Parker would bring her all that.

  * * *

  Annie seemed to have recovered some of her usual sunny outlook by the next morning, for she smiled and chatted with Elizabeth and the babies as they rose, breakfasted and dressed for the day. But she still cast a glance out the window from time to time with a heartfelt sigh.

  “You could borrow a horse and ride out to talk to your mother,” Elizabeth suggested as she gathered up some of the boys’ clothing for the wash. “I know being apart from those you love is difficult.”

  Annie shook her head. “She made her decision, and now I’ve made mine. Besides, she’s probably good and mad at me for not coming home for chores yesterday like she wanted.” She cast Elizabeth a troubled glance. “Unless you’d like me to leave.”

  Elizabeth shook her head, but a knock on the door prevented her from urging the girl further. Annie hurried to answer, and Elizabeth saw Stella Fuller and Caroline McKay on the stoop.

  The triplets immediately perked up, waving their hands or crawling toward the woman who had recently been their nanny. Eli’s calls of “Lala” pierced the air. Caroline beamed at them, light brown hair shining nearly as brightly as her hazel eyes.

  At Elizabeth’s encouragement, Caroline went to sit on the bed, and Elizabeth brought her Theo, mindful of her arm still in a sling.

  “Oh, how I’ve missed you,” she said, giving the baby a hug.

  Elizabeth bent and picked up Jasper to keep him from climbing up Caroline’s dusky green skirts to her lap.

  “I’ll take one,” Stella offered, dipping down to scoop up Eli. “They are so sweet I could eat them up with a spoon.”

  “Miss Dumont has the best job in the world,” Annie said with another sigh, this time in obvious envy. Jasper reached for the girl, and Elizabeth let the little boy go into her arms.

  “Best job, but not the best situation,” Caroline said. “You need something permanent, Elizabeth, if we are to keep you in Little Horn.”

  Elizabeth couldn’t help but be warmed by the statement, and this from the woman who had married her groom. “I quite agree. I’d love to stay.”

  “I heard Clyde Parker proposed marriage,” Stella put in, giving Eli a jiggle. He must have recognized the more
censorious tone of her voice, for the baby frowned.

  Caroline met Elizabeth’s gaze, her mouth turned down in sympathy.

  “Last night,” Annie confirmed. “He told Miss Dumont she had to marry him.”

  Stella shook her head. “That’s it. We need to promenade.”

  Caroline frowned. “Promenade? Where I come from, that generally involves a lady and a gentleman taking a turn about the room or garden together.”

  “That’s the way my aunt used the term,” Elizabeth told her.

  Stella had other ideas. “Not here. You might have noticed, not too many folks have a house big enough to take a turn in, much less a fancy garden. Out West, if you want to promenade, you and your friends dress up in your best and sashay down the street together, see who takes notice.”

  Elizabeth felt her face heating to the point that Jasper reached up to touch her cheeks. “Oh, I couldn’t.”

  “Don’t see why not,” Stella said. “The babies need air. Caroline and I are in our visiting clothes. If we go with you and Annie, no one in town should complain.”

  It wasn’t the complaints of the townsfolk that concerned her. What would the members of the Lone Star Cowboy League think if they heard she’d been parading around Little Horn with the triplets? And very likely the gentlemen taking notice would be no more suitable as husbands than Clyde Parker.

  Caroline slid off the bed, earning her a grin from Theo. “It sounds like fun. Count me in.”

  Annie giggled, raising a smile on all the babies’ faces. “I’ll go, though I don’t much care who notices now that I can’t have Jamie.”

  “What’s this?” Caroline asked, stepping closer to the girl. “What happened?”

  “Did that fool father of his say something he shouldn’t?” Stella demanded.

  Annie hung her head. “It was Ma. She just can’t get along with Mr. Coleman. And I can’t live my life with them fighting over every little thing.”

  Caroline glanced at Elizabeth. “Surely there’s something that can be done.”

  Elizabeth certainly hoped so. “Annie is staying with me for now while she thinks things over.”

  Stella nodded. “Good. And I say you should promenade too, Annie. It doesn’t hurt to see if you have options.”

  Options, she said. Elizabeth could certainly use one. But displaying herself to the populace? That just seemed wrong. She’d told Annie that sometimes it was best to stand her ground. Perhaps it was time she took her own advice.

  “Ladies,” she said, glancing around at their determined faces, “I appreciate your concern, but I have a duty.”

  “To the triplets,” Stella agreed, tucking Eli against her and marching for the door. “And I’m taking this one promenading.”

  “Me too,” Annie said, heading after her with Jasper.

  Caroline shook her head. “You’re outvoted, it seems. Come along, Elizabeth. Help me with Theo.”

  Left with little choice if she wished to keep up with her charges, Elizabeth went along.

  As always, escaping the little room raised her spirits. It was a gloriously sunny day, and something tangy she couldn’t name hung in the air. Carts and wagons rumbled past, on their way to various businesses in the heart of town, and ladies ventured out to hang wash and work gardens.

  Stella headed a block over to Main Street and strolled up the sidewalk, her boots clacking on the wooden planks. Caroline, Annie and Elizabeth clustered around her. Elizabeth was a little concerned about how the people would react, but every lady they met stopped to exclaim over the boys, and the older men paused to chuck the babies under the chin or pat their shoulders. Jasper, Theo and Eli preened at the attention.

  “Don’t look now,” Stella murmured as they came past the Arundel General Store, “but the gents are noticing too.”

  Elizabeth was almost afraid to see who might be watching them. Annie had no such concern, for she craned her neck.

  “Oh, who’s that?” she whispered to Caroline, who was closest. “The fellow with the hair black as midnight?”

  Stella stopped as if to eye the goods displayed in the window of the general store. She nudged Elizabeth and nodded to the pane, which gave back a reflection of their faces and the street behind them.

  Three cowboys had just ridden in. The one with the long black hair tipped his hat in their direction. She heard Annie giggle.

  But the man who made Elizabeth catch her breath was the sandy-haired minister who was heading their way with a frown on his handsome face.

  * * *

  Brandon had to force the frown from his face at the sight of three cowboys admiring Elizabeth and her friends. He was supposed to be pleasant, congenial, welcoming. Besides, how could any man fail to appreciate her? Though she was wearing her more practical clothes today, her hair captured the sunlight and gave it back as flame.

  But that didn’t mean they had to stare as if they’d never seen a pretty girl before.

  “Pastor!” Mrs. Fuller heralded, turning from admiring something in the window. “We were just taking the babies for a walk. Why don’t you join us?”

  He had a dozen things calling for his attention this morning, from renovating the Crenshaw house to determining the next course of Sunday school lessons. But suddenly he could think of nothing more important than spending time with Elizabeth.

  And the triplets. Of course the triplets.

  He smiled as he joined her and the others. “I’d be delighted.” All too aware of the cowboys watching them, he offered Elizabeth his arm. “May I, Miss Dumont?”

  She hesitated, and for a moment he thought she’d refuse. Was it pride or had he done something to offend her? Would they never come to a time when they could be easy in each other’s company?

  Then she placed her hand on his arm, and a jolt went through him. Perhaps being easy was overrated.

  “See?” Mrs. Fuller said with a grin to Elizabeth. “You never know who you’ll meet when you go promenading.”

  He wasn’t sure why Elizabeth flamed or Caroline chuckled.

  “You sure don’t,” Annie said, falling in behind them as they continued up the street. “Do you know that black-haired cowboy, Pastor?”

  Brandon glanced back at the men, who had dismounted and were heading into the general store. “Kit Durango. He’s new to Little Horn. He recently signed on at the Thorn ranch.”

  “Kit Durango.” Elizabeth said the name as if fascinated. She shot him a grin. “Now, that sounds like a hero in a dime novel.”

  He ought to share her smile, but some part of him wanted to order Mr. Durango back on his horse and out of Little Horn.

  “Oh, yes!” Annie enthused.

  “He sounds like the villain to me,” Brandon heard himself say. “I doubt he’ll stay in Little Horn beyond roundup.”

  Annie sighed.

  Elizabeth gave his arm a squeeze. “And how many cowboy dime novels have you read recently, Pastor?”

  Her smile was so sweet he felt his lips turning up in response. “I don’t have to read about the West anymore, Miss Dumont. I live in it.”

  She laughed, and he felt like the wittiest fellow in Texas.

  He walked the ladies up Main Street and back to Second, where he left them at the boardinghouse. Saying goodbye to Elizabeth was harder each time he did it. That just meant he needed to find a way to prevent that goodbye from being permanent, and he thought he knew just how to start.

  Mrs. Arundel held a weekly literary discussion in the sitting room of the parsonage. That was the reason his congregation had built him such a large house, after all, so they could make use of it. Now, just like every Thursday afternoon, he found five ladies seated on the mismatched furniture. They all perked up as he entered.

  “Care to join us, Pastor?” Mrs. Crenshaw asked, sliding over on the cr
imson camelback sofa as if to make room for him.

  “You know the rules,” Mrs. Arundel scolded before he could respond. “Mr. Stillwater may only join in the discussion if he’s read the book.”

  The deacon’s wife deflated.

  He wasn’t sure what they were reading, but that wasn’t the reason he’d come.

  “Actually, ladies, I was hoping for your counsel,” he said, taking a seat on a hard-back chair at the edge of the room and bracing his elbows on his knees. “A member of our congregation will shortly be unemployed, and I’d like to find her other work.”

  Mrs. Hickey, who had been watching him with narrowed eyes as if waiting for the least infraction, leaned forward. “Is it Mercy Green? I hear her restaurant might fail.”

  He’d heard no such thing. The place was busy every time he went in.

  “I told her that green tomato preserve wouldn’t go over well,” Mrs. Arundel said with a knowing nod.

  “Not Mrs. Green,” Brandon assured them, hoping to squelch that rumor before it went too far. “Her restaurant is a mainstay in the community. I would not want to see it fail.”

  “Mrs. Tyson,” Mrs. Crenshaw said with a sympathetic sigh. “She’s been at loose ends since her sons left.”

  Did they have nothing to do all day but look for trouble? “Mrs. Tyson seems content serving in our charities,” Brandon pointed out. “She’s in no danger of leaving the area.”

  “Whoever it is,” Mrs. Arundel said with a quelling look to the other ladies, “we’d be happy to help her secure gainful employment, Pastor.”

  Brandon nodded his thanks. “I’m hoping to find a position as a nanny or governess for Miss Dumont. You’ve met everyone around Little Horn. Surely you know a family in need.”

  Mrs. Hickey drew herself up, and Mrs. Arundel’s face darkened.

  “I cannot help you, Pastor,” the wife of the general store owner said, chin coming up.

  Mrs. Hickey nodded. “We could not possibly risk our reputations for a lady of questionable character.”