by Tina Leonard
“I would,” Lucy said, her voice filled with longing. “It’s a dream for me.”
“And you really can’t imagine me being as good a mother as you,” Clove said. “The truth is, you’re suited to be a mother, and I’m not. Oh, maybe for one, but three? It would be a disaster.”
“I—I’ll have to talk to Robert, naturally. He did mention adoption at one point, then sort of lost interest in that idea…and they are your children. Your angels. You would forever be the true mum. And I don’t know about Robert, dear. He sort of…sort of loses interest in things these days.”
Sort of losing interest in Lucy. Clove didn’t have to hear the words to know them to be the worry on Lucy’s mind. “It’s okay, Lucy. I’ll be home soon.”
“I’ll start decorating the nursery!” Lucy began sobbing. “Clove, this is wonderful, a dream come true. I mean, I hope you’re happy. You’re quite sure this man doesn’t love you? I will be quite happy to come over there and exert sisterly pressure on him if you would like me to. He should know that you are not some alone-in-the-world girl he can take advantage of.”
“He does not love me, and I do not love him,” Clove said with authority. “Trust me on this. We both understand that it was a one-night thing.” It wasn’t worth mentioning that Archer was asleep in her bed right now, determined to throw a wrench into The Plan. He didn’t understand. He couldn’t understand. Lucy and Clove had been there for each other when there was no one else. The sisterly bond between them was stronger than everything. She wasn’t about to let Lucy down. “I love you,” she told her older sister.
“You can never love me as much as I love you,” Lucy replied, just as she always did. “Call me if you need anything. I’ll be right there.”
“I will.”
They said their goodbyes and then Clove hung up, her heart feeling lighter than it had in a long time. She closed her eyes and put a hand on her stomach. “You are the luckiest children in the world,” she whispered. “You angels are going to have a beautiful mother, a physician father, a lovely home, and me devoted to your every smile, your every tear.”
“Those angels will also have me,” Archer interrupted.
Clove’s eyes flew open. Archer walked into the kitchen, crossing his arms as he stared down at her. “Let’s review the roll call. I think I heard some errors in the lineup.”
Clove stared at him, her heart pounding.
“Let’s see,” he said, holding up a finger, “first there’s the beautiful mother, which naturally is you.”
She blinked.
“Then there’s the physician father. I’m not a physician. I’m a cowboy, third generation, Texas-born. So one of us is confused. You never mentioned that those were not my children, so that leaves us with a gap in the family history. When did I become a doctor? And what’s my specialty?”
Her throat closed. She couldn’t speak.
“What is my little Aussie stuntwoman up to now?” He pulled her into his arms, giving her a deep kiss. “Just as good as I remembered the first time,” he said when he pulled away.
“Don’t,” she said sharply, whirling away from him.
“We should kiss more often,” he said, “since we’re getting to know each other for the sake of the children.”
“No, we shouldn’t,” she said, going to open a bag of flour.
“Clove.” He turned her toward him, trying to take the flour from her. “If I understood what you were saying on the phone, the answer is no. You are not giving my children to your sister.”
She tugged the flour proprietorially and it dropped to the floor, sending a great white pouf into the air. For a reason she would never understand, Clove burst into tears.
“Yegods,” Archer said, “it’s only flour, baby.”
Wiping her eyes, she managed to get flour everywhere. “You don’t understand.”
“I understand you have flour on your face, and that you’ve got three buns in the oven. My recommendation is that you give this job up and come home to the ranch with me where you belong.”
Hands on hips, she said, “Archer, I do not need to be rescued. Stop trying to ride in here and toss me over your saddle.”
He sighed. “You’re very confused. But we’ll soon fix that.” Gently, he wiped the flour from her face. To her surprise, Clove liked the feel of his fingers stroking her. She stood very still, letting him touch her skin, telling herself it was just the flour he was after, but secretly impressed by his steadfastness despite her tears.
“Let’s get back to whatever you’re baking. Then you need to turn in your resignation to Delilah.”
There was a vast difference between steadfast and stubborn. Clove turned away. “Grab the recipe for the snickerdoodles out of the recipe box. That’s what Delilah wants for her guests. She has a family of three from Wichita coming in, and she says that their e-mail reservation indicated that the little boy has never had a snickerdoodle. Delilah has a questionnaire for her guests as to what their favorite foods and desserts are, which I think is awesome for customer service.” She turned to face him. “And I’m not turning in my resignation, thank you. I’m more than happy here.”
“Here,” he said. “The recipe for snickerdoodles, whatever they may be.”
Handing her the card, their fingers touched, startling her because she hadn’t expected it. Her thoughts suddenly were elsewhere. “I wonder what they’ll be,” she murmured, looking up at Archer in wonder.
“What?”
She blushed. “The babies.”
He smiled at her. “Boys, of course. Boys who will always have the benefits of eating snickerdoodles.”
Her eyebrows raised. “You think so? That they’ll be boys?”
“Sure. And boys need to grow up around their uncles. Excellent role models.”
She turned away.
“Not that your sister wouldn’t be a good role model,” he said softly, turning her back toward him. “Clove, I remember the e-mail you sent me mentioning that your sister couldn’t have children. I could feel your pain and worry.”
Her gaze lowered, hiding her thoughts from him.
“I reread those e-mails while I was home,” he told her.
“You kept them?”
“Every one. And it’s clear to me what happened. You practically mapped it out in your notes to me. I was always talking about myself, and you talked a lot about your stunt work, but throughout our correspondence, there were hints about your concern for your sister. It was a pretty common theme. Are you sure there’s not more wrong in her life than not being able to have children?”
She frowned at him, not liking his thought process. “They’ve tried for years to conceive. With her husband, Robert, being a doctor, they’ve had access to advanced knowledge and opportunities. It should have happened.”
“Maybe some things don’t happen for a reason.”
“I refuse to accept that.”
“Obviously.” He looked at her. “Part of me is flattered that you spent the money on a plane ticket, gave up your virginity and thought I could get the job done for you.”
She raised an eyebrow. “And the other part?”
“The other part of me is ticked that you’ve changed my life without me having a say in it.”
“You weren’t supposed to find out, and—”
“But I did.” He took her chin in his fingers. “And that means that Lucy, as much as I feel for her plight, is now going to have to figure out a different way to have children.”
Clove jerked away from his hand. “No.”
“Yes. Those children are mine, and they are staying in America.” He smiled at her gently, running a hand down her arm. “We may even have to figure out a way to like each other. It would be in the children’s best interests.”
“You didn’t want me, Archer,” Clover said defiantly. “Not the first day, when I asked you to dinner. You weren’t interested. The only way I got you into bed was through the Never Lonely Cut-n-Gurls total makeover. But you d
idn’t want me.”
“True,” he said cheerfully, “and blast those Never Lonely Gurls. I told you they were trouble, warned you to stay away from them. But you didn’t listen, and now look at the pickle you’re in.”
She gave him a sour look and began scooping flour into a dustpan. “I don’t want you to like me just because I’m pregnant with your children.”
He got down to help her. “It wasn’t that I didn’t want you. I was busy with Tonk when you asked me out. And I sort of sensed you were the kind of unsophisticated girl who would require a lot of time and effort. A needy type, if you will.”
She gasped.
“And my intuition was proven correct,” he continued, ignoring her outrage. “You have turned out to be quite needy, a veritable time sink.”
Standing, she washed her hands. “You are despicable, and full of yourself. I never saw that in your e-mails. I always wondered why a man who supposedly had so much going for him was content to chat with a woman for two years without ever seeing her face. It seemed odd.”
“I like my freedom,” he said happily. “All us Jeffersons do. But you have now snared me, and you will have to deal with the consequences of marrying a cowboy.”
All her breath went right out of Clove’s chest. “You’re crazy.”
“Then we’ll get along, my sweet stuntwoman. By the way, you have let your stunt-work employers know you won’t be coming back to work? Far too dangerous a job for a new mother.”
“I am not marrying you. I am not listening to you. I think you are insane. You owe me nothing, and I owe you nothing, and that’s the way we’re going to leave it. Now get out, before I return to Marvella’s.” She gave him a pointed stare. “Where I know I’ll be safe from you.”
“I don’t think so,” Archer said, “for a thousand reasons I could share with you, but for right now, it’s enough to say that you’ve invited me into your life, AussieClove, and this father will be sticking very close to his offspring.”
Chapter Seven
“Mason can I talk to you?” Archer asked, three hours after he’d left Clove to her baking. He’d figured it was best to give her some time to chew on what he’d had to say.
“Sure.” Mason glanced up from the paperwork he was writing on. “What’s up?”
“I’d like to talk to everybody, if you can round up just the boys for dinner tonight. I need some advice, and I’d like to do it privately.”
Mason rose. “Tell Helga we’re going to have a sit-down, then.” Their housekeeper would need to prepare enough food. “Leave a note on the kitchen board for the boys that you’d like everybody present.”
Archer nodded. “Thanks.”
“Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. I just need to air some things out. Need some guidance.” He smiled, but it was tense. “Had a bit of a surprise today, and a family consult’s the way I’d like to bring it up.”
One thing was for certain, he was going about this differently than Last had. He felt Last had waited too long to talk to Mason about his baby. He’d avoided the problem. A man, in Archer’s opinion, faced everything with his eyes on the horns. Last was the youngest, of course, and he had a lot of baggage being the Family Philosophe. They’d relied on him over the years, when they’d had their wild stages, to be the family compass. No one had wanted to let the baby of the family, with his incisive opinions of what a family should be, down. Consequently, Archer felt Last was so burdened by their need for him to be the strong one that when he faltered, it was tough for him to face it. Last had changed a lot lately, though, and Archer was proud of the strides he was making. Last sure liked baby Annette, and he and Valentine had turned out to be pretty good at routing visitation hours.
But my goal is to do things my way.
Either way, it wasn’t going to be easy.
MASON, BANDERA, LAST, Crockett and Archer gathered at the family table, their plates piled high with barbecued chicken, red beans and rice, rolls and steamed broccoli. Though Calhoun lived nearby, oftentimes he and Olivia ate with Minnie and Kenny and Barley as a family. Two or three times a week, they joined the brothers at the main ranch house, particularly on the weekends, when Helga wasn’t as overburdened by their presence, Olivia said. Helga loved Kenny and Minnie, though, and always claimed meals were better when as much family was around as possible.
With time, the brothers had begun to appreciate their housekeeper’s genuine love for their family. Besides, they couldn’t not love Helga after her daughter Kelly had married Fannin.
“Group’s getting smaller,” Mason observed.
“Yes, it was even smaller when you were gone so long,” Last said.
Mason put down his roll. “Well, you didn’t have any trouble enlarging the family tree in my absence.”
The rest of the brothers groaned at the continuing warfare and focused on their food. It was, Archer decided, not one reason but many that the moodiness around the ranch was so pervasive.
“Not tonight,” he said on a sigh. “We’re going to have to leave our war drums silent and cogitate on the newest issue at hand. I need your advice and not to be given several refrains of grief.”
“What’s up?” Bandera asked.
“Well,” Archer said slowly, “I, too, will be enlarging the family tree.”
Every brother stopped what he was doing, whether in midbite or mid-dig to stare at him.
“Go on,” Last said with obvious interest. “Don’t leave us in suspense.”
“I’m going to be a father,” Archer said.
“You don’t even have a girlfriend,” Crockett said, dumbstruck. “Don’t you have to have a female for that?”
“Apparently not,” Bandera said. “Let him finish.”
At the head of the table, Mason had turned into a concrete gargoyle, his mouth open, his roll dripping butter onto his plate and the tablecloth.
“I’m going to be a father,” Archer repeated. “To triplets.”
So loud a gasp went up from the brothers that it was amazing the plates didn’t jump an inch from the whoosh. Mason leaped to his feet, tossing his roll to the table. It bounced on the floor, to the delight of the dog.
“That is the last straw! What is the matter with you dunderheads! I taught you the condom song. I put condoms in the stockings at Christmas! And all you do is fornicate and populate! Every last one of you is irresponsible, immature and careless about the ranch’s future!”
The dog, fearing she was being yelled at, grabbed her treasure and exited the dining room in a blur.
“Hello,” Mimi Cannady said, sticking her head around the corner. “Am I interrupting anything?”
“Yes!” Mason roared at their next-door neighbor, and the only woman he’d ever cared about, though he was Johnny-come-lately to figure it out.
If he’d ever figured it out, Archer thought. “Mason,” Archer said sharply.
“Sorry.” Mason sighed. “Mimi, please. Would you care to have a seat and join us?”
“I think not. I just stopped by to let you know that I am putting the ranch on the market next week.”
Mason sank into his chair, staring at her.
“Hate to eat without you, Mimi,” Bandera said. “Grab a plate. Join the Addams Family as we dine. Lurch is speechless, as you can see, so it might be a pleasant meal for a change.”
“No, thanks. I’ve upset Mason’s digestion, so I think I’ll head on off. Bye, guys.” She went around the corner, then poked her head around the door frame. “You know, it doesn’t look the same with just you five sitting there.” Her blue eyes were wide with sentimental tears. “We really had some good times,” she said softly. “I wish my baby was going to get to grow up on the ranch the way I did. But I guess that was a unique childhood.”
Mason stared at the doorway Mimi had left empty. He glanced around at his brothers, his throat working, his face distressed and somehow older. “Dammit to hell and back,” he said, throwing his napkin onto the table. “This place is a freakin
g zoo. I’m going out.”
He left the room in the opposite direction Mimi had gone.
“Excellent,” Archer said. “So far everything is normal.”
“Oh, yeah,” Crockett said sarcastically. “I think that went very well. Every night should be so warm and cozy. Next thing you know, we’ll have our own reality show, just like the Brady Bunch.”
“That wasn’t a reality show,” Bandera pointed out. “And Helga really isn’t like Alice, do you think?”
The brothers glared at him. Bandera looked at each of them, then picked up his fork and began to chew forlornly.
“So…back to your announcement,” Last said with a grin. “Triplets, eh? I cede the trophy for family error to you, bro.”
“Who is she?” Crockett asked. “Anyone we know?”
“Even I don’t really know her,” Archer said. “She’s an Australian stuntwoman.”
“Dang,” Bandera said, his tone admiring. “Hang ten, brother!”
“We need a woman who can put a little juice back into this family,” Crockett said. “She sounds fun! An Aussie stuntwoman bearing triplets! Does she have an accent? Does she say, ‘G’day, mate’?”
“Jeez.” Archer ran a hand through his hair. “She’s not what I would classify as fun. She has a slight accent. She’s never called me mate, and we don’t even come close to being friends. As far as the stuntwoman thing goes, as exciting as it might be, I’m making her quit her job. Too dangerous.”
“You’re making her quit her job.” Bandera chewed and thought about that. “How did she take that?”
“Very well for a first mention, I thought.”
“Which means he talked, she ignored him or possibly laughed in his face, and he plans to revisit the subject. So, are you moving Down Under?” Last asked. He looked thoughtful. “And…when’s the wedding date?”
His brothers stared at him. Uncomfortable tickling began along his neck and continued up over his skull. Archer cleared his throat nervously. “Too many questions to be answered tonight. Let’s eat this grub.”