by Tina Leonard
“As long as I’m here for the big show,” he said, “I’m content. Excited, even. Scared. Lots of emotions.”
“There’s some wine in the cabinet,” Cricket said, but Jack shook his head.
“No, thanks. I intend to share every emotion with you.”
“Jack,” she said suddenly, “I should have called to tell you how sorry I was that Thad punched you.”
“Forget about it. I already have.”
She so much wanted him to give her family a second chance, and yet they had treated him rather dreadfully. Looking into Jack’s warm gaze, Cricket wondered if they could ever start over on new ground. She really wanted that.
“Hey, I’m serious,” he said. “It wasn’t important.”
“You never called,” she said.
“I understood you were going through a lot.”
“Yes, but my family should have been more courteous.”
“Nah,” he said. “You’re their only little girl.”
“Well, Thad wants to make it up to you.”
He looked at her, his brows raising, a little suspicion in his gaze. “Yeah?”
She nodded. “He wants to take you up for a jump.”
“Ah. And does he want to pack my parachute for me?”
She looked at him. “I don’t blame you for feeling that way.”
He sighed. “I’m sorry. I know your brother doesn’t want to push me out of a high-flying plane with a malfunctioning parachute. He’s honest enough to at least try to kill me in person.”
“Jack!” She knew he was teasing, but she couldn’t help feeling protective of her brother. “You don’t know Thad. He’s a sweetie, really. He was so sorry about punching you.”
He shrugged. “I’ll pass on the jump, if it’s all the same. Unless Thad wants to do some bonding over bull riding,” he said, perking up. “That’d be a great way for us to celebrate those brother-in-law bonds.”
“Maybe we’ll wait on the bonding,” she said.
“That’s probably a good idea for now,” he replied. “I’m going to be very busy for the next few years. I don’t suppose you’d allow me to touch your stomach?” he asked, his voice wistful. “I’m awfully curious to meet my new children.”
“Go ahead,” she said, not having the heart to refuse him. But when his hands closed over her stomach, Cricket’s heart jumped into her throat. These wonderfully large, masculine hands had gotten her into trouble in the first place…and she still remembered the magic they could play on her oh-too-willing body. Every time Jack touched her, she felt the sweet temptation run hotly through her veins, and Cricket knew she’d never be able to tell this call-of-the-wild cowboy no—except about becoming his wife, except about moving to Union Junction, except about ever getting into his bed again.
Chapter Sixteen
Jack tried not to wince when Cricket said, “I’ll sleep on the recliner tonight.”
He hadn’t expected an invitation into her bed, but to have her distance herself from him by sleeping in a recliner sort of hurt his feelings. “You’re safe,” he said, his tone brisk. “I’ll take the recliner.”
She looked at him, a heartbreakingly sweet face that had only grown more beautiful to him since her pregnancy. “I always sleep on the recliner,” she said softly, “even when my mother helps me. Anyway, there are five bedrooms in this house. There’s plenty of places to sleep.”
“Why do you sleep in the recliner?” he asked, glad that she wasn’t trying to avoid contact with him.
“The babies are restless at night. There are three fighting for space, and so when they start doing their gymnastics, as I call it, it’s challenging for my body if I’m lying down. It’s also hard to get up.”
She was quite a bit larger than he’d expected her to be. He thought about how his father had warned him that if he didn’t get Cricket to the altar before the babies were born, he might never get her there. “You look lovely,” he said, his voice hoarse. He got all choked up just thinking about the fact that this wonderful woman was having his babies—how much luckier could a man get?
“You wouldn’t think I was attractive if you saw me undressed,” she told him matter-of-factly. “You should see the support system Mom and I rigged underneath this kimono so that I can stand up.”
He looked at the flowing, shapeless dress she wore. “You look like you’re ready for a luau or a garden party. I would never guess you’re carrying three children in there if I didn’t know better. Are you sure our babies are big enough to survive?”
“I worry about that, too,” she said softly. “But the doctor thinks they each will weigh around five pounds. In my mother’s generation, a five- to six-pound baby was considered healthy. I try not to scare myself to death over things I can’t control.”
“No, no,” he said hastily. “And I don’t know the first thing about pregnancies, anyway.”
“Well, we’ll know more tomorrow. I’m glad you’re here,” she said with a gentle smile at him.
He didn’t know what to say to that. Why hadn’t she called him sooner? Why hadn’t she agreed to marry him?
It hit him that this woman had changed his life, changed him. And he had never seen it coming. Like a strong wind, she’d blown him over. “So you’ll sleep out here,” he said, “because it’s more comfortable and not because you’re worried about me—”
“I’ve slept in this recliner for the past month,” Cricket told him.
“And you’ll call me if you need anything in the night, even just getting up to use the, you know, go into the powder room,” he said delicately.
She nodded. “I’m in your hands. Completely.”
He took a deep breath. “I won’t let you down.”
She looked at him. “I know. That’s why I called you. You’re the one person I want by my side when I go through this.”
He felt better knowing that she trusted him. “Good night,” he said, and though he didn’t kiss her good night, he wanted to more than anything.
“Jack?”
“Hmm?” He paused in the act of checking out the sofa. Could he sleep there? It didn’t seem right to go sleep in a comfy room in the back while she was stuck in the recliner. Shouldn’t he keep vigil with her tonight? What if she needed something suddenly and he didn’t hear her?
“How’s your mother?”
He looked at Cricket. “She’s fine. Why do you ask?”
“I just wondered.”
He looked in her eyes, sensing a deeper question. “You’re asking if we’re getting along.”
She hesitated. “I suppose so.”
“And you’re wondering if I’m living at the ranch, getting along with Mom and making my father happy.”
“I haven’t heard much about you,” she said, her gaze direct. “I do wonder if the black sheep is making its way back home.”
“Mom’s fitting in to Union Junction just fine.”
She smiled. “You know I meant you, Jack.”
“I never really considered myself a black sheep,” he said, settling onto the sofa. “And I’d appreciate your not referring to me as such in front of the children. They can hear everything you say, you know.” He slipped off his boots, arranged himself among the pretty flowered pillows, slid his hat down over his eyes.
“You’re avoiding the question about your mother,” she prompted.
“Not so much,” he said, “but I’m still working on my million, if you’re wondering about that.”
“I see,” she said, and he removed his hat to turn and stare at her.
“Why? Thinking about moving to the ranch?”
She shrugged. “I consider all our options.”
“Hey,” he said, “are you having second thoughts about being the wild girl of Fort Wylie?”
Her chin lifted. “Maybe, cowboy, maybe I am.”
He sat up, his heart suddenly beating very quickly. “I don’t suppose you’d be offering me any kind of proposal, would you?”
“Not marriage,” she said hastily, �
�just…parenting together.”
“Oh.” He sank back into his reclining position. “Give a guy false hope, why don’t you. Sheesh.”
“I know it would be best for the children if we raised them together, I just haven’t figured out how we’d manage it.”
“Glad you’re slowly coming around to my side,” he said, feeling grumpy.
“I’m just trying not to tie you down,” Cricket said.
“You’re the one avoiding the rope.”
She sighed. “I know you have a lot of family things to attend to. I don’t want to be a distraction.”
“You are a distraction, whether you want to be or not. You’re carrying my children. Where else do you think my mind is most of the time?” He sighed, wishing it were tomorrow already, wishing he knew whether his children would be born with all their tiny fingers and toes intact, whether they would be as pretty as their mother, wishing he knew something about being a father. “Listen, Pop’s fine. He married Sara and they’re the happiest couple you ever saw. She makes him lots of salads and other things she calls cleansing foods for his kidneys. Pop complains that all he wants in life is a cookie and maybe a double-fudge cake, and Sara smiles and gives him a different variation of something healthy and they’re both happy. Mom seems to like living at the ranch. She gets lots of visits from grandchildren, and this time I think she’ll stay. She prefers the guesthouse, and I stay in the main house, but still, I come across her from time to time. She’s gardening in a huge way and has been studying herbs. Says she’s going to plant a bigger garden next year. Wants you to pick out drapes when you have time, maybe also next year,” he said begrudgingly. “I swear that’s what she said. But no pressure. We’ve survived without new drapes for many years, we may never get them.” He felt pretty glum about that, just because he knew it was something his father had felt was important to the house. Actually, he knew his father only kept the ranch house because he had some mysterious connection to it, one that seemed to be growing even on Jack. “Weirdly, Pop claims there’s ghosts in the house.”
“What kind of ghosts?”
“Friendly ghosts. Misplaced ones who decided to take up residence there. They’re from France,” he explained. “It’s not a reaction from the kidney surgery, as far as I can tell—he really believes there are ghosts there.”
Cricket smiled. “Your father is awesome.”
“No, really,” Jack said, certain that Cricket thought he was just spinning a tale. “Pop swears they came from France to pull him through the surgery.”
“Why aren’t they living with him and Sara, then?”
“Because they need a grail. They’re on a quest,” he explained. “And Pop says they’re in a snit because he left them in his templary, so they chose to follow him.” He wondered how much he could share with her about the ghosts and decided to go all the way with this one. “Cricket, every once in a while, I could almost believe they’re there, which I feel pretty weird saying to a deacon, because I’m pretty sure you don’t believe in ghosts. Maybe angels, but not ghosts.”
Cricket giggled. “I believe anything you tell me.”
“You don’t.” He closed his eyes again. “If you did, you’d believe that you and I need to get married for the sake of the children.”
“Ugh,” Cricket said. “Let’s stay on the subject of ghosts. It’s safer. How many are there?”
“Three,” Jack said. “The house definitely feels fuller with them around.”
“Eek,” Cricket said. “I’m not staying at the ranch house anytime soon.”
“Oh, a little ghost or three wouldn’t chase you off,” Jack said, feeling grumpy again. “You’ve got other reasons you won’t come live with me.”
“True,” Cricket said. “I don’t see myself anywhere but here.”
He didn’t, either. The old house with its quaint gingerbread trim suited her. There were baby presents along one wall, waiting to be opened, cards expressing well wishes for Cricket’s pregnancy lined a sideboard. “I’d move here but I’m determined to outlast the old man’s stubbornness. He thinks I can’t stay in one place for more than a few moments. Mom says she thinks I should lighten Dad’s wallet of a million dollars if for no other reason than to show him I can stick to one place. Be a family man.”
“I agree with your mother,” Cricket said. “Most people never see that much money. And a job is a job. Although I heard that the Lonely Hearts Station rodeo is coming up soon.” She considered him for a moment. “I’m sure you miss your old life, Jack.”
He turned to look at her again. “Who told you about the rodeo? Laura? Suzy? Priscilla?”
“They stopped by the other day,” she said, her gaze innocent.
“And filled you in on things you shouldn’t be troubling your pretty little head about,” Jack said.
“Maybe not, but my pretty little head likes to know what the father of my two girls and one boy is doing.”
He sat up. “Two girls and one boy?”
She nodded. “Yes, cowboy. I wasn’t going to tell you, I was going to let you be surprised during the delivery, but I can’t keep the news to myself any longer.”
“Man,” he said. “That’s like hitting the lottery!” He jumped off the sofa, paced around the room for a moment. “Cricket, you have to marry me.”
She shook her head. “‘Have to’ is something I opted out of when I gave up my church position.”
He caught his breath. “Is that why you did it? Because you didn’t want to feel forced to marry me?” He’d sensed that the women in the waiting room at Dr. Suzanne’s hadn’t felt anything but caring toward their deacon.
“Yes,” she said. “I knew I wasn’t going to get married, and I felt that they deserved a deacon who was living a bit more holy than I was.”
His heart sank. “Still feel that way?”
She nodded. “To be honest, I’ve received a number of visits to reassure me that my position is waiting for me whenever I want it. But I know I’m doing the right thing.”
Which meant she had no intention of ever marrying him. Jack realized he was walking in a supersize patch of trouble. “Why did you tell me all this after you mentioned the rodeo? Is there a connection?”
“Sort of,” Cricket said. “It’s my way of letting you know that I understand about rodeo. I know you understand about my love of parachuting. And that we’ll have to figure out a way to be parents while understanding that we had a miracle of three babies, but we’ll have to agree to be partners.”
He frowned. “Partners? That sounds like new-age labeling for ‘Cricket and Jack will be single parents’.”
She didn’t reply.
“Okay,” he said, “I think I get it. You’re telling me that you’ll let me hang around and help you raise the babies from afar. I’ll live in Union Junction and you’ll live in Fort Wylie. You jump and I’ll ride, and somehow in there, while we’re living completely separate lives, we’ll raise kids who somehow miraculously understand that Mommy and Daddy are too weird to be committed to each other.” He paused. “Maybe the word I’m looking for is selfish. That’s how it seems to me, anyway.”
Cricket’s brown eyes flashed at him. “Do you have a better suggestion?”
“No,” he said, “because talking about this is going to make us both crazy. The obvious answer from a less involved person is that we should have used a condom or never gone to bed together, but frankly, Cricket, that would be like saying I don’t want these children, and I darn well do. I also want you.” He let out a deep breath and wondered why he wanted her right now, this minute, in the worst way. If nothing else, he’d like to be able to hold her, reassure her that everything was going to be all right, and “they” were going to be all right, but he couldn’t hold her, she was ensconced in that recliner. All she needed was a moat around her and she’d be completely protected from him. Never had he known a woman with as much resistance as she gave him. “Let’s get some sleep. Tomorrow’s going to be a busy day, and the coa
ching tape I’ve been watching says the coach needs his rest the night before his children come into the world. Supposedly, birthing day is just like Christmas, only about a thousand times better.”
He pushed his hat down low over his eyes. It hurt to know that his children wouldn’t have a traditional family. Though his parents hadn’t stayed together, they’d started out as a family and he remembered that it was later, when his mother had left, that his father had changed, turning into a sour, angry man.
It was important to have both parents around. He didn’t like Cricket’s plan, not one bit, but she was a stubborn girl, and he had lots of experience with stubborn. He had a father who was, and a mother who was, and brothers who knew something about stubborn and Templar knights living in his ranch house who’d stubbornly decided they were part and parcel of Josiah’s legacy. Truly, Jack wasn’t afraid of stubborn.
He’d just wait his deacon out. He would out-stubborn them all.
A father had to be strong. Now he understood Josiah, and loved him more for what he’d taught him about being a real father. Over the years, people—even Jack—had said that Josiah Morgan was a jackass. But now Jack knew that Josiah had simply been strong.
Chapter Seventeen
Cricket knew that she loved Jack. She always had. But right now, while she was being prepped for surgery, she wished she hadn’t asked him to come.
She had never seen him nervous. She’d seen him hanging on to a wildly charging bull with a grin on his face. She’d seen him face down an angry father, a possible kidney operation, all with not a trace of fear or anxiety.
Right now, Jack Morgan was more nervous than she was. He was trying hard not to be; he was working hard at being a good coach, a soothing presence.
But she could feel how tense he was. He kept swallowing, his Adam’s apple jerking uncomfortably. An active man, Jack never liked to be still, but the kindest description of what he was trying hard not to do was pace. The very fact that he was trying to stay in one place was unsettling—she would far rather he pace and let loose some of his nerves.