The Bride's Matchmaking Triplets

by Regina Scott

  * * *

  Brandon couldn’t help thinking about the situation as he finished the peach pie Elizabeth had baked, the sweet dessert every bit as good as his mother’s. Elizabeth was a capable, competent woman, but she shouldn’t have to deal with these demands on her time. Very likely she could contend with his overly helpful congregation, but that need he’d felt to protect her was only growing stronger. So, he redoubled his efforts to shield Elizabeth from the people of Little Horn.

  Unfortunately, it wasn’t easy. Requests popped up like gophers: unexpected, annoying and often leaving messes behind. When the committee helping him plan the Harvest Festival intimated that Elizabeth would bake all the pies this year, he directed them to Mercy Green. When the school board added Elizabeth to their committee without asking her first, he suggested they invite Lula May McKay instead. When the Society for the Destitute and Downtrodden wanted to elect Elizabeth its new president, he took the role himself.

  He refused dinner engagements with the excuse of the triplets, claimed to be too busy for tea in the parsonage. He attempted once more to move Mrs. Arundel’s literary group, this time to the café, and was roundly berated for his lack of sensitivity before the lady took herself off in a huff.

  He would not back down. He’d seen what Louisa had gone through to manage the triplets and knew David had had to hire a nanny when he’d been in charge of their care. It was clearly a full-time job. The boys had to be fed and changed and dressed, multiple times a day. Moving about as they were now, they got into everything. Even though Elizabeth had rid the parsonage of anything fragile, the triplets still managed to leave smudges on the chair legs and drool on the carpet. He was constantly having to move things out of reach.

  And then there were the chores that came with running a household, washing and cooking and cleaning. The ladies of the town had largely performed those functions when he was a bachelor. Now that he was married, they seemed to feel that those tasks should fall on Elizabeth as well.

  And so he tried to help. He started with the washing. He’d seen his mother do it. How difficult could it be to clean a few shirts? He heated water on the stove, then lugged it out to a tub in the yard, shaved in soap and added the clothes. Elizabeth and the boys had been out for a walk. They returned in time to see him standing in his shirtsleeves, stirring the mess.

  “This is hot work,” he told her, wiping his forehead with one hand.

  “It can be,” she agreed, careful to keep the triplets away from the pungent steam. “Let me get the boys settled, and I’ll come help.”

  “No need,” Brandon assured her, giving the shirts an extra swirl. “I can do this.”

  As a result, his best white shirt was now a pale pink.

  “It’s generally best to separate the whites from the brights,” Elizabeth advised him with a smile when she helped him hang the clothes to dry. “I’d be happy to show you next time.”

  She was similarly kind when he attempted to cook dinner one night. She chewed the burnt chicken so carefully he could hardly hear it crackle in her mouth. Even the boys refused to eat the watery mashed potatoes, gazing at him with sad eyes as if feeling his failure.

  “I’m sorry, Elizabeth,” he told her, letting his fork fall. “You deserve better.”

  She put her hand on his on the table, the touch warm. “I know any number of women who would be envious my husband thought to step in and help. The trouble isn’t your effort, Brandon, it’s the focus. Do what you do best, and leave me to what I do best.”

  That was when she told him she was planning a dinner party.

  He felt as if ants were marching across his skin. “Perhaps that’s not the best idea. We are newly married, after all, still learning our way. And we have the boys to contend with.”

  She cocked her head. “Are you afraid I’ll embarrass you?”

  “No, never,” he promised her. “But I’m not sure you understand the dynamics of Little Horn society.”

  Her smile was tight. “I understand the dynamics better than you think. Leave everything to me.”

  He couldn’t refuse her, even when she handed him the guest list.

  “Dorothy Hill and Tug Coleman at the same table?” Brandon shook his head as he scanned down the list. “And Kit Durango?”

  Elizabeth smiled at him. “Trust me.”

  He did. Truly he did. Unfortunately, some in his congregation had more trouble.

  He and Elizabeth attended their first church service as husband and wife that Sunday. He felt a little concerned leaving her in the pew with the boys, even with Mrs. Tyson and Annie to help her. Who knew how many requests she’d have to fend off? As it was, his gaze kept finding hers as he delivered his sermon. When the service ended, people surrounded her, and he pushed his way into the crowd, ready to defend her.

  Mrs. Arundel was already plowing into a lecture. “About this dinner you are giving, Mrs. Stillwater, you must include Edmund and Lula May McKay. They are one of our first families. Mr. Arundel and I would be glad to sit down beside them.”

  “Thank you for the suggestion,” Elizabeth said, handing her Jasper. “But the invitations have already been sent. And may I just say that I am so grateful that you and your husband run such a superior store. Why, I found everything I need for my table there, and I would not hesitate to recommend it to my dearest friends.”

  The oddest sound came from Mrs. Arundel’s throat as she beamed, and for a moment Brandon thought she was purring. Jasper must have approved, for he made the same noise.

  “I haven’t received an invitation,” Mrs. Hickey said, scowling at Elizabeth.

  “Certainly not,” Elizabeth agreed, handing her Theo. “Why, when you come to my table, it will be a momentous occasion indeed, Mrs. Hickey, as rare as a snowflake in summer.”

  Mrs. Hickey’s nose went into the air. “Indeed.” Theo patted her shoulder as if he quite agreed.

  “You seem to have found your footing as the pastor’s wife,” Brandon marveled as she retrieved the babies.

  “Perhaps not yet, Mr. Stillwater,” she said, looking determined as he walked her and Annie to the door. “But I’m working on it.”

  She was indeed. By Tuesday night, the day set for the dinner, the entire parsonage gleamed. Besides the feuding couple and the cowboy, Elizabeth had invited the Crenshaws, Bo and Louisa, and David and Caroline. With Annie watching the triplets in the bedroom, their guests were able to sit down to the table nearly a dozen strong. Brandon could see Dorothy and Tug glancing about at the others in confusion, and Kit Durango kept tugging at the throat of his dress shirt as if none too comfortable in such company.

  But Elizabeth, ah, Elizabeth, was in rare form. She’d donned one of the dresses from Cambridge, the dun-colored one with the black lace. Though her aunt would have considered it a day dress, here in Little Horn it was nothing less than high fashion. With her hair bound up in the pearl combs from their wedding, she was the most beautiful woman in the room.

  And the most confident.

  “Thank you all so much for joining us,” she said from the foot of the table, her gaze brushing Brandon’s at the head. “My family loved to throw parties for those they admired. I’m honored you’d come to our table as we start the tradition here in Little Horn.”

  Now Dorothy Hill was squirming. “Not sure how I ended up here,” she muttered to Mrs. Crenshaw on her left.

  “You raised a family alone,” Mrs. Crenshaw responded. “I say that’s admirable.”

  “So do I,” Tug said on her right. “But I told you that before. You’re a fine woman, Dorothy Hill, and Mrs. Stillwater was right in inviting you to join us.”

  Brandon turned his gaze away from the remarkable sight of the indomitable Dorothy blushing to find Elizabeth lifting her glass to him in toast. He could only offer her a toast in return.

  “I understa
nd there was a wildfire here not that long ago,” Elizabeth ventured as they all dug into the roast and mashed potatoes she’d served. “I imagine that’s a difficult situation on the range. However did you cope, Mr. Durango?”

  Kit hastily swallowed as everyone looked his way. “Well,” he said, toying with his fork as if considering using it to protect himself, “first we had to keep the cattle calm. Then we had to move them to safety, out of the path of the blaze.”

  Bo nodded. “That’s the tricky part. Never can tell which way a fire will run.”

  “That’s true enough,” Tug put it. “Why, if Dorothy and her boys hadn’t pitched in, we might have lost everything.”

  “You and yours fought that fire right beside us,” she reminded him. “Kept it from destroying our house too.”

  “I’ve never seen neighbors so ready to help each other,” Elizabeth told them. “I think you’re all to be commended.” She raised her glass again. “Here’s to the people of Little Horn, our friends and family.”

  “To friends and family,” Tug agreed, raising his glass as he smiled at Dorothy.

  And so the evening continued, with merriment and good conversation. Brandon had never enjoyed himself more. The others seemed to feel the same way.

  “Best time I’ve had in years,” David told him as he said good-night to Brandon. Caroline was standing in the doorway to the boys’ room, giving each of her favorite fellows a hug and kiss as Louisa waited her turn. “Who would have thought this crew would get along, much less enjoy each other’s company?”

  “Only Elizabeth,” Bo said, clapping Brandon on the back. “You’ve got some wife there, brother.”

  He could only agree. Especially when she came to join him at the door to send the cowboy on his way.

  “Much obliged, ma’am,” Kit said, deep brown eyes warm. “Though I’m still not sure why you included me.”

  “You are the new breed of gentlemen paving a way on the frontier,” she told him. “Everyone I know admires a good cowhand.” She leaned closer. “And now that you’ve visited my house, Mr. Durango, I hope to see you and your friends in God’s house on occasion.”

  He nodded as he settled his hat on his head. “We’ll be there, ma’am, if I have to rope and hog-tie the rest of them to their saddles.”

  Brandon shook his head as he shut the door behind them. “What did you do?”

  “What my aunt taught me to do,” she said, beaming. “Bring people together.”

  She’d done more than that. She was a light of hope, a woman of encouragement. Everyone in the room had felt it. Their smiles and compliments were proof enough of that.

  “You are amazing,” he murmured.

  It seemed the most logical thing in the world to bend his head and kiss her.

  But there was nothing logical about the way his heart reacted. He wanted to cradle her close, never let her go. She smelled of peach pie and clean linen, and her kiss made him feel strong, sure. It was as if holding her, encouraging her, protecting her was what he had been born to do.

  Could it be he was falling in love all over again, with his own wife?

  Chapter Sixteen

  The evening had gone exactly as Elizabeth had hoped, with good food, interesting company and congenial conversation. But Brandon’s kiss wiped it all from her mind. The soft, sweet pressure, the warmth of his arms stealing around her waist, brought back memories, memories that quickly faded in comparison with the joy she felt now. He had changed for the better; she had changed for the better. Together, they were nothing short of magnificent.

  He drew back with a sigh. “Elizabeth, forgive me, I...”

  She put her finger to his lips to seal them, but the touch only reminded her of what they’d just shared. “No. No apologies. No misunderstandings. You kissed me, and I kissed you back. Let’s just leave it at that.”

  He nodded, and a part of her was disappointed. What was wrong with her? What did she want him to say? She certainly didn’t want to start an argument over a kiss!

  “I’m going to change and clean up the kitchen,” she said, backing for her room, where she could hear Annie settling the boys for bed. “I’ll see you in the morning, Brandon.”

  He caught her arm. “Let me help.”

  The image of him standing beside her, drying as she washed, was a pretty one, but he was already too much on her mind, and she feared he was making his way into her heart. She wasn’t ready. Not yet. Not until she was sure.

  “I’ll be fine,” she said. “As soon as I’ve changed, you can help Annie with the boys.”

  She pulled away before he could disagree.

  But that night after she turned in she couldn’t help wondering about her reaction. Brandon’s kiss had likely been meant as no more than a kindness, thanks for what she’d achieved that night with her first dinner party. He alone of anyone in Little Horn knew what such a night meant to her, how it honored her aunt’s memory. She thought Aunt Evangeline would be proud of her. She was certainly pleased with the results.

  But that kiss? Oh, my. How would she ever get to sleep thinking of it?

  She was simply thankful she had helpers the next morning, for she kept forgetting little things like setting out the sugar bowl for Brandon’s coffee and removing the porridge from the stove before it boiled over. Today her assistants were the Satler siblings. She’d found them waiting on the back step when she opened the door to let in some of the cool morning air. Jo and Gil helped her feed the triplets and make coffee for Brandon, who stepped in a short while later and stuck out his lower lip as if impressed with the tidy picture they presented.

  “I have to go to the children’s home this morning,” he told Elizabeth after his first sip of the coffee. He moved his cinnamon roll a few inches to the left to keep Jasper from grabbing it. “The building is nearly done, and David wants me to stop by and give it my blessing.”

  Jo perked up. Did she know she and Gil were two of the children for whom the home was intended? Elizabeth slipped an arm about the girl’s shoulders as Eli and Theo gabbled at Gil.

  “Perhaps we all should go. I’m sure Jo and Gil would like to see where they’ll be living soon.”

  “Would I!” Gil slipped off the chair and hung on Brandon’s arm, chatting away about what they might see. Jo clung to Elizabeth, head down and one hand stroking Eli’s dark curls.

  Poor child! Brandon had told Elizabeth a little about the siblings. She knew Mrs. Satler had loved and protected her children until death had parted them. Now they were alone, with people who didn’t seem to know how to care for them. Small wonder the girl didn’t trust anyone enough to speak.

  “Give us a little time,” Elizabeth told Brandon, “and we’ll all come with you. That is, if you’re willing to push the cart.”

  “Watch me,” Brandon said with a grin that set something inside her to fluttering.

  A short time later, they all left the parsonage together. Gil ran ahead, but Jo stayed close to Elizabeth, her flowered cotton skirts brushing the olive twill of Elizabeth’s.

  Elizabeth couldn’t help noticing that the boys were more tightly packed in the cart than when she had first begun caring for them more than a month ago. Jasper was wiggling his shoulders as if trying to spread out. Eli was waving his hands as if hoping to escape, and Theo in the middle had a puckered face as he must have felt the pinch on both sides. Each of them had grown in weight and height, and they’d only get bigger from here. She mentioned as much to Brandon.

  “I’ll stop by Josiah McKay’s lumberyard later,” he promised her with a wink. “Maybe he has some wood that’s hankering to be a wagon.”

  Elizabeth smiled, remembering his story about the desk.

  Gil was frowning. “Does wood want to be a wagon?”

  “I don’t see why not,” Brandon said, shoving the cart over a
rut in the street. “The Bible says the rocks will cry out to praise our God. I’d think a tree could be a lot more vocal.”

  Gil eyed him a moment, then shook his head. “I think you’re joshing.”

  “Maybe about the tree,” Brandon allowed. “But not about making the boys a wagon.” He grinned at Elizabeth. “A feller has to have some way of earning himself a place in a lady’s affections.”

  Was that why he was being so helpful? Did he think he had to earn a way into her heart? She didn’t like the thought that she might have given him that impression.

  “Why?” Gil asked, skipping along beside them.

  Jo glanced up as if she was keen on the answer as well, and Elizabeth eyed Brandon.

  “Well,” Brandon said as even the triplets gazed up at him in question, “when you care about someone, you want to do nice things for them.”

  That was true enough. She wanted to help him with all his responsibilities in Little Horn.

  Gil nodded. “Like we do for the babies. Jo says they ain’t got kin to take them in.”

  So the girl talked to her brother at least.

  “That’s right,” Brandon said with a smile to Jo, who looked away. “You help Mrs. Stillwater around the parsonage because you care about the triplets.”

  “And cuz she’s pretty and nice,” Gil said with a shy smile to Elizabeth.

  She returned his smile as Brandon glanced her way. “She certainly is.”

  Her cheeks heated in a blush. “Thank you, gentlemen. I’m very glad for your help, both of you. But, Gil, school will be starting soon, and you promised me you would go.”

  Gil’s smile faded. “Don’t much like school. Teacher says I don’t talk right.” He suddenly brightened. “But at least I talk!”

  Jo hunched in on herself.

  Elizabeth squared her shoulders. “Jo will talk when she’s ready, and I’m sure it will be worth the wait.”

  The look the girl cast her was equal parts thanks and admiration. Very likely Elizabeth was gazing at Brandon the same way. She was just glad they reached the house then, so they all had something else to talk about.