She raced across the room, stepped in to catch the glue with her open palm, just before it hit the nearly completed canvas. Her closing fingers didn’t stop the white fluid from spreading outward, however. On the back of the easel, the floor, the nearby table and chairs. “What has gotten into you all?” she demanded.
Not that she didn’t know.
Every time she talked on the phone, or spoke with someone at the door, or put her attention elsewhere, the quints had a way of directing her attention right back. Usually through mischievous acts like these.
“Levi started it!” Connor claimed.
“Did not!” Levi said loudly.
Abigail frowned. “They were all taking too long! We should have been finished by now!”
Gretchen stuck out her tongue. “I do not need any help! I can do it all by myself!”
Rebecca surveyed Susannah’s expression, sighed quietly, and put her thumb in her mouth.
“Is it like this all the time?” Gabe asked.
Yes, Susannah thought, acutely aware how close to the edge of her patience she often felt these days. But not about to admit it to Gabe, she merely smiled and fibbed, “Of course not.” Clearly, he didn’t believe her. Which prompted her to add, a little haughtily, “Your presence has obviously upset them.”
* * *
Gabe might have bought that had he not been one of eight very independent, rambunctious kids. Who were also close together in age. Although not this close.
The downstairs of the Craftsman abode had been opened into one large space, so Gabe was able to watch Susannah stride over to the kitchen, her body moving gracefully beneath her trim cotton T-shirt and matching shorts as she moved. She had cut her hair to just beneath her chin and filled out a little since she’d had the quints, but the curves were nice and womanly, as was the new maternal fullness in her face. She looked like someone who’d had all her dreams come true, he thought, and that was a good thing. Though he imagined she would be even happier if she had a loving husband on the premises to help her rear this rambunctious brood.
Susannah returned, paper towel roll and bottle of spray cleaner in hand. As she knelt to quickly dispense of the sticky mess, Abigail sidled up to Gabe and asked, point-blank, “Are you here to marry our mom?”
Taken aback, his jaw dropped open in surprise.
Susannah glanced over at him. Judging by the pink in her cheeks, she, too, thought it was a ridiculous notion.
“’Cause it’s not going to happen,” Connor chimed in.
Gretchen shook her head. “She won’t even go on a date.”
“And Mr. Bing keeps asking,” Levi announced, edging closer, too.
“So does the plumber.” Abigail stood between her brothers.
“And the electrician,” Rebecca took her thumb out of her mouth long enough to say.
Wow, she really did have a line of suitors, Gabe thought, lifting a brow. That was no surprise, given she was as beautiful and elusive as ever, with her delicate features, silky honey-blond hair and sea-blue eyes.
“Don’t forget that guy that brings our pizza and is always smiling real big at her,” Gretchen said.
Susannah finished wiping up the mess on the floor and stood, her cheeks turning an even deeper rose.
“Those men are all just being nice, because they are doing a service for us. And I am nice to them because they are here helping us out. I don’t think it means anything out of the ordinary. They’re just people being kind and neighborly the way everyone in Laramie County is,” she soothed.
The quints weren’t buying it, Gabe noticed with satisfaction and something else that felt peculiarly close to jealousy.
The kids knew male-female interest when they saw it.
Connor stood on his head. His brother, Levi, immediately followed suit. Looking over, he informed Gabe happily, “But Mr. Bing asks the most.”
Another waft of concern sifted through him. “Mr. Bing?” Did the guy have a chance with her? Gabe had never really envisioned Susannah with someone else. Given how independent she was, he had figured she would either stay single, or a damn miracle would happen, and she would end up with him.
With a harried sigh, Susannah soaked up a particularly big glob of glue on the dining room table. “Bingham Taylor. From the bank.”
Gabe hovered close enough to Susannah to take in a whiff of her wildflower perfume. Her skin looked as touchable and soft as he recalled, her lips just as kissable.
Throat parched, he asked, “The Bing Taylor we went to school with?”
“Yes.”
Miracles or no, Gabe rejected the notion out of hand. “Last I remember, he was about three inches shorter than you.”
A squeak sounded behind them. Turning, they saw Rebecca holding open the screen door to let in their latest visitor.
Speak of the devil, who apparently had caught just enough of what was being said to add in a low, cultured tone now completely devoid of his homegrown Texas accent, “I grew when I went to Princeton for my undergrad and Harvard for my MBA.”
He certainly had, Gabe thought. These days, Bing was almost as tall as Gabe. He also had the aura of big-city slickster. Yet Bing’d maintained the inherent kindness and compassion he’d always had, too.
But that did not explain his pursuit of Susannah. Not to Gabe’s satisfaction, anyway.
“And yet here you are, back in Laramie.” Gabe surveyed Bing’s custom suit and tie, wishing he had taken the time to iron his own shirt and get a haircut, instead of just shower and shave.
Bing smiled and extended his palm. His handshake was firm, friendly. “I’m just here for a year or so to settle my dad’s estate and manage the sale of my family’s ranch. I want to make sure my mom gets top dollar. Then I’ll be going back to my life in Chicago. Meanwhile, I’m working remotely out of the branch here.”
Susannah informed Gabe proudly, “Bing is a vice president of private investments for Unity Bank.”
“And the two of you are...” Dating? Trying to date? Gabe wasn’t sure how he felt about that. It wasn’t that Bing wasn’t a decent person. He just wasn’t right for Susannah. Did she know that? Hard to tell from her genial expression.
“Bing is handling the general welfare trust I set up for the children, with the funds Brett and Belinda left,” she explained.
His demeanor suddenly all business, Bing looked at Susannah. “And we need to talk. Which is why I’ve been calling you.”
Flushing guiltily, she carried the used paper towels over to the trash. “I know. I’ve been busy.”
Bing nodded. “You’re always busy.” He grinned down at the kids, who grinned back. “And it’s understandable. Which is why I want to set up a business dinner.” He lifted his hand before she could get a word in edgewise. “It can be late. After the little ones are in bed. I’ve already talked to your neighbors Mike and Millie Smith. I know they sit for you all the time, and they’ve offered to watch the kids whenever it’s convenient for us to meet. As long as it’s not on Wednesdays and Thursdays, when they’re off gallivanting around the state with their line-dancing club.”
Now Susannah looked irked—which wasn’t a surprise, given her highly self-sufficient nature, Gabe thought. “You really didn’t have to do that.” She forced a smile.
The kids looked back at Bing.
“I really think I do,” he said, “if we’re going to make this happen.”
Susannah slipped her cell phone from her pocket. “How about I make an appointment and come to the office instead?”
Good. She didn’t want a dinner date, Gabe thought. Glad she had enough sense not to go on a date bound to go nowhere.
“Fine. As long as we set something up now,” Bing returned firmly.
Susannah sighed, looking anything but willing to do just that. Surprised by the protectiveness surging within him, Gabe stepped in. “Maybe you could do
it later.” Or never, he thought grumpily.
Bing frowned and gave Gabe a highly frustrated look that encouraged him to mind his own business.
Noting the simmering tension, Susannah stepped between the two men, her back to Gabe. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be difficult, Bing. I’ll make time,” she said quietly. “I can’t meet with you until Friday, but I will be there first thing when the bank opens, if that is agreeable with you.”
Bing nodded in obvious relief. “It is. I’ll see you then.” He said goodbye to everyone and left.
Susannah turned back to Gabe with an arched brow. She glanced at her watch, noting it was near five. “I think that’s your cue, too.”
Gabe realized that. Their ongoing artwork now abandoned, the two boys took several plastic toy crates, turned them over to empty them onto the carpet, willy-nilly, and then began stacking them, one on top of the other, directly behind Susannah. Probably, he thought, so she wouldn’t be able to see what they were doing and correct them. Again.
Aware their messiness wasn’t his problem, but finding out what was really going on with Susannah was, he stepped closer, keeping his voice low, persuasive. “I’d like to catch up...”
She stiffened, the way she had after the one and only time they had ever kissed. Still holding his eyes with the heat of remembered passion, she said tersely, “I don’t think that’s possible, Doc.” Chin up, her icy glare warning him away, she stepped defiantly backward.
Seeing what she didn’t, and the boys hoped she would not, Gabe reached for her in an attempt to catch her before she stumbled into the teetering crates and the small metal vehicles scattered all around them. To no avail. She moved away from his hand, misinterpreting and dodging his chivalrous attempt to save her—at the exact same time her foot landed awkwardly atop a small toy ambulance.
Again, he put his arms out to keep her from falling. And again, she stubbornly evaded him, throwing out both her arms and shoving him away. For a second, she teetered, and it looked as if she didn’t need his help after all. Then still off balance, she tripped and twisted her right leg on the way down.
* * *
Searing pain ripped through Susannah’s ankle, simultaneously pushing its way up toward her knee and down toward her toes. She cried out in agony as she hit the floor, her leg twisted awkwardly beneath her.
Around her, everyone froze. Then the kids sprang into action. “Mommy’s got a boo-boo!” Abigail shouted.
Rebecca’s lower lip quivered. “Don’t cry, Mommy!” She rushed forward to help.
“We’ll fix it!” Connor declared.
“I’ll get the Band-Aids!” Gretchen moved to the bathroom.
“She needs peas!” Levi yelled.
Gabe knelt in front of her leg while two of her daughters flanked her comfortingly on either side of her head. This time, to her relief, he made no effort to touch her. Yet she was quivering with awareness just the same. “Are you okay?”
Obviously not. Determined not to let him know that, however, she fought back a grimace. Shifted her weight off her ankle. Another searing pain shot through her, and there was no way to circumvent the helpless tears flooding her eyes.
“We’ll get you a cookie!” Abigail leaped up.
“And some juice!” Rebecca followed.
All doctor now, Gabe took charge. “Let’s see if we can get you up and over to the sofa.”
Susannah wanted to refuse, but there was no doubt she needed his help. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt so badly if she were able to straighten her leg. Plus, the kids were all starting to look very worried. “Okay.” She swallowed around another wave of pain.
He laced his arm about her waist. Aware how big and strong and solid he felt next to her, she put her arm around his brawny shoulder. Carefully, he guided her to a standing position and helped her limp over to the couch. She sat back so her legs were stretched out in front of her across the cushions, alarmed to find the pain was even worse.
“Mommy, we’re coming!” The quints raced back into the room.
Gretchen held Band-Aids, Levi a frozen sack of peas. Abigail had a cookie. Rebecca, a juice box. Connor had the Mother’s First Aid Manual.
Susannah attempted a smile. “Thank you,” she said as everything was pressed into her hands, all at once.
Meanwhile, Gabe was peering at her ankle, which was looking uglier by the minute. “Mind if I quickly examine it?” he asked.
Might as well. It was, she knew, the only way she would get rid of him. “Go ahead.” She sighed.
He palpated it gently, turned it this way and that. Every action caused excruciating pain. She managed not to make a sound, but because he was watching her face, he knew. And so did, she realized unhappily, her kids.
“This has got to be X-rayed,” he said.
She had feared as much. Acutely aware of their audience, adapting an air of nonchalance, she took a small bite of the cookie and ignored the wave of nausea that rose in her throat as a result. “I’ll go in the morning.”
He stood, all take-charge doc. “No,” he said autocratically, already taking out his phone. “You’ll go now.”
Chapter Four
Fifteen minutes later, Susannah heard the car doors slamming outside her home. “I can’t impose upon your parents this way, Gabe.”
“You heard my mom on the phone. It’s no imposition. My parents were going to have dinner in town, anyway, and now they’ll just have it with the kids while I take you to the hospital. And besides,” he continued when he saw she was about to protest further, “isn’t this why you moved to Laramie in the first place? Because of the way neighbors help neighbors all the time?”
It was.
“Is Mommy’s ankle going to be okay?” Abigail asked.
Gabe knelt down to reassure her. “It sure is, sweetheart. But we still need to get it X-rayed.”
The doorbell rang. He strode over to open the door. Carol and Robert Lockhart came in.
They were a handsome couple in their midfifties. Legendary for rounding up and then adopting Gabe and his seven siblings, their big hearts and calm, practical natures had brought the brood back to health after the sudden devastating loss of their birth parents.
“We’re so sorry to hear about your mishap,” Carol said. A slender woman with short, dark brown hair and vivid green eyes, she was dressed in a sleeveless denim dress and flats. A cardigan was tied around her shoulders.
“But not to worry. We’ll cover everything here while you get that ankle looked at,” Robert added. The dark-haired, brown-eyed rancher had the perennial tan and build of a man who spent his life outdoors. And the kind disposition of someone who had spent his life tending to animals and helping others.
“Are you going to be our babysitters?” Connor asked.
Robert knelt down to bump fists with him. “We sure are.”
“Do you like pizza?” Carol whipped out her phone.
“Yes! Cheese, please!” the kids shouted in unison.
“All right, then.” Gabe’s mom grinned, looking happy to have that decided.
“Need some help getting Susannah to the car?” Robert asked.
Gabe handed a set of keys to his dad. “If you can get the doors, that would help.”
“No problem.” Robert went on ahead.
Doing her best not to moan, because the slightest movement caused searing pain to skip up and down her leg, Susannah removed the bag of peas that had been numbing her ankle and gingerly swung her legs off the sofa cushions.
She managed not to cry out, but she felt the blood leave her face all the same.
“Just what I thought,” Gabe murmured just loud enough for her to hear. The next thing she knew, he was sliding one forearm beneath her knees, the other around her back, and she was lifted up into his strong arms and held against his chest.
“Wow,” Gretchen said i
n obvious wonderment. “Just like a princess...”
“Or a bride,” Abigail sighed.
“The doc rescued our mommy,” Rebecca said, taking her thumb out of her mouth.
“Our mommy doesn’t need rescuing,” Connor declared.
“Yeah,” Levi said defiantly. “Mommy rescues us. All the time.”
“I bet she does,” Gabe agreed, still holding Susannah as if she were light as a feather, and moving sideways through the door.
She tried not to think how good it felt to be carried this way. Never mind how safe and protected she felt with him in charge. “You all be good for Gabe’s mom and dad,” she told her kids.
“We will,” they said in unison.
Robert headed down the sidewalk ahead of them, then hit the electronic lock on the late-model Silverado pickup sitting at her curb. “Pretty fancy,” Susannah remarked. A lot fancier than she expected Gabe to be driving.
While his dad held the door, he eased her into the passenger seat. “Yep. Thanks, Dad.”
“You’ll call to let us know how things are going?” Robert asked.
Gabe nodded.
Abruptly, Susannah remembered. “Oh! I need my purse. With my ID and insurance card and phone...”
“Where is it?” Gabe’s father asked, every bit as naturally gallant and genial as his eldest son.
“On the desk in the kitchen, next to my laptop,” Susannah said.
“I’ll get it.” Robert strode purposefully back up the walk.
While they waited, Gabe eased behind the wheel. Suddenly, it all seemed a little too intimate. “You really didn’t have to carry me,” Susannah said, still tingling all over from where they had brushed up against each other.
Gabe’s lips turned up at the edges. “You really wanted to try and hobble and risk more damage?” he drawled, glancing down at her swollen, visibly bruised ankle.
No. She hadn’t.
Pride made her reiterate, anyway, in an even more clipped tone, “It was unnecessary.”
He chuckled and shook his head in silent remonstration, as if knowing the real reason why she was protesting. His actions had made her way too aware of him again. It had made her want to lean on him, made her remember what it had been like to kiss him, and both were the last things she wanted to be thinking about at a time like this. When he was here, trying once again to unnecessarily insert himself into her life.
His Plan for the Quintuplets Page 4