His Plan for the Quintuplets

by Cathy Gillen Thacker

  Gabe could see where that would be a problem.

  “So—” she drew in a soft breath “—I was wondering if you could ask your mother if she knows anything in particular that might help me. Or, better yet,” she pushed on, a little more reluctantly, as if she were fearful of crossing some invisible line, “if you could get your dad to reminisce and talk about what those pets were like. Maybe this Sunday—on Father’s Day—because I imagine you’re going to see him then?”

  “Yes, I am,” Gabe returned, letting her know with a look that whatever she wanted and needed was okay with him. He pushed away from the window and edged closer to her, enjoying her aura of femininity.

  Wishing he didn’t have to worry about the kids waking up and walking in on them and he could just make love with her again, he reined his desire in for later and said, “And in fact, I was going to ask if you and the kids wanted to go out to the ranch with me and attend the barbecue they’re having. There are going to be a lot of people there. It would be fun.”

  Plus, his family wasn’t just going to love the pet portrait she was doing for his dad—they were already starting to love her. As a person, as an artist. Maybe, if he were lucky, even as a potential romantic interest for him.

  Susannah’s face fell. “Oh.”

  He had an answering arrow of disappointment. “Too much too soon?” he asked lightly.

  “N-no.” She flushed prettily and wrung her hands in front of her. “It’s just we already have plans with Mike and Millie. We’ve decided to formalize our relationship a little more. They’re going to be the kids’ grandparents as well as our good family friends.”

  Aware all over again just how much he enjoyed spending time with her, he let his gaze rove over her face. “That’s great.”

  “I mean, it doesn’t make up for the quintuplets not having a daddy.” She ducked her head shyly. “I know that. But it will make things more normal for them, so maybe they will stop trying to get me married off.”

  He tugged on an errant lock of her silky hair. “I can see where that would cut back on your embarrassment.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “You think?”

  They exchanged grins, and he dropped his hand, stepped back. Wishing he didn’t know she thought their lovemaking might be all about lust and loneliness and little more.

  “Anyway, everyone is happy about that,” she continued.

  “Especially you,” Gabe guessed, his protective instincts coming to the fore once again. Because he knew they could have more, if she would allow it.

  Raking her teeth over her lush lower lip, her gaze turned thoughtful as she agreed. “Especially me.”

  “I’m glad,” Gabe told her tenderly.

  He just wished he knew what that meant for him. Was Susannah inching toward having more family in her life, despite her outward denials to the contrary? And was he crazy to be thinking she might be wanting more from their fast-growing relationship, too?

  * * *

  “Any particular reason you didn’t bring Susannah and the quintuplets to the barbecue this afternoon?” Carol Lockhart asked as the sun went down and the last of their guests left.

  Gabe pocketed the additional pictures of his dad’s late dog, Rocky, that she had just clandestinely handed him.

  Briefly, he explained the plans they’d had with Mike and Millie. “That’s wonderful,” Carol enthused, hearing about their newly anointed grandparent status to the quintuplets. “You have to take family where you can find it.”

  Gabe nodded and gave his mom a hug. “Millie and Mike Smith are that to her, for sure.”

  The question was, would he ever receive enhanced status, too?

  Gabe was still thinking about that as he drove back into town. Thinking it might not be too late to drop the latest pictures and information off, he headed over to Susannah’s home. The lights were on. He parked at the curb and reached for his phone and texted her, I’ve got a couple of stories to tell you about Rocky that might shed light on his personality. More photos from his last years and puppyhood, too.

  Terrific! she wrote back. When can I have them?

  Now...?

  There was a pause. More blinking dots on his cell phone screen that signified typing on her end. Where are you? she texted.

  Fifty feet from your door, he wrote back.

  The blinds shifted. The front door opened, and just like that, a widely smiling Susannah waved him in.

  * * *

  Susannah had been hoping Gabe would stop by this evening. It was why she hadn’t changed out of the pretty sundress and sandals she’d worn earlier, and instead of taking off her makeup, had freshened her lipstick a little while ago instead. He looked nice himself, in a short-sleeved navy polo shirt that molded to the muscular contours of his broad shoulders and chest, dark jeans and boots.

  “Kids asleep?” he whispered, looking more handsome than ever with a hint of evening beard lining his strong jaw.

  Fighting the tingle of sensual awareness sifting through her, Susannah nodded. She moved away from his tall, sturdy frame, flashing a matter-of-fact smile that was so much less than what she was feeling. Casually, she reported, “They were snoozing before the sun went down.” She met his gaze. “I was just about to have a cup of that special blend sassafras tea Millie has been raving about. Want to join me?”

  “Sure.”

  While she poured two mugs from the kettle and set out the sugar and lemon, he looked at the sketches spread over her breakfast table. There were more laid out on the kitchen island. As well as a container of drawing pencils and a big sketch pad with the half-finished sketch of Rocky on it. Another, even larger drawing, with all the dogs romping across the meadow. “Wow, you have been busy.”

  Susannah sipped her tea, admitting happily, “The work is starting to take on a life of its own.”

  “I can see that.” He walked around, admiring the progress she’d made since he last looked at her sketches, while sipping the tea that seemed to be a mixture of herbs and spices and some sort of candy-like sweetness. “It’s nice.”

  “Thanks.”

  She glanced at the child monitors she had set up on the kitchen, saw her children sleeping soundly in their beds, the two boys in their room, the three girls in theirs. Satisfied all was well, she opened up the back door, switched on the outdoor lights and eased out onto the porch. The scent of the flowers she’d planted rose up to greet them. Although this wasn’t a date... it was beginning to feel like one. Determined to get the conversation back to business instead of her increasing feelings for him, she asked crisply, “So, what were these stories you had for me?”

  Gabe sat beside her on the chain-hung swing, leaving a little distance between their bodies. His voice low and sexy, he told a story of Rocky leaping onto the kitchen counter to devour a just-frosted coconut layer cake, his black muzzle covered in white. Then relayed another, of the year-old black Lab getting stuck while trying to hide beneath the bed, after taking off with a porterhouse steak that had been ready to go on the grill. “He was trying to hide it for later, but the trail of marinade gave him away.”

  Still sipping her tea, Susannah grinned over the photos of both incidents. She turned to Gabe, her knee accidentally nudging his thigh. “So all of Rocky’s antics were related to food?”

  Gabe chuckled. “No surprise there. Labrador retrievers are always hungry.”

  Susannah gazed up at the moon shining down on them, reflecting, “Well, then, it might be cute, depicting him taking off across the meadow with a steak in his jaws.” She sucked in a breath as pain radiated across the center of her chest. “I’ll run it past your mom, see what she thinks.” Susannah paused as another stab of pain hit her and put her hand right above her sternum.

  Gabe picked up on her discomfort. His brow furrowed. “Everything okay?”

  Susannah moaned softly as she endured another wave o
f pain between her breasts. Unfortunately, this was all too familiar. “Reflux,” she said.

  “Bad?”

  Was it ever. “Ah, yeah. It is.” Embarrassed, Susannah rose and moved off the swing, the taste of acid rising in her throat.

  Gabe followed, slipping into physician mode. “Do you get it often?” he asked gently.

  Susannah shook her head and looked into the top of the kitchen cabinet for the box of prescription medications she kept on hand. She found what she needed and took a pill with a small sip of water. “The first time I had it was after Brett and Belinda died. The doctor felt it was triggered by grief. The next time was during the last two trimesters of my pregnancy with the quints. That was understandable, too.”

  “Because of the pressure the babies put on the stomach.”

  “And the stress of it.” Going back into the kitchen, she got a container of yogurt out of the fridge. She put a couple of spoonfuls in a small dish, offered Gabe some. He shook his head.

  Leaning against the counter, she took a small bite. Let it stay in her mouth a moment, to get rid of the acid taste.

  Gabe regarded her tenderly. More friend and lover now than physician. “Was pregnancy very hard on you?”

  Susannah took a deep breath, willing the reflux away. “Multiple pregnancies are hard in general—you were right about that.”

  His arm slid protectively around her shoulders as he took up a place beside her. “But Mike and Millie were there for you all.”

  Despite her trepidation about getting too close to him, emotionally, lest it hurt too much when he eventually left again, Susannah relaxed into his comforting embrace. “As was all the rest of the medical staff at Laramie Community Hospital,” she murmured, remembering fondly. “It was a very exciting time.”

  Gabe leaned over and pressed a kiss on her brow, picking up on all she hadn’t said. “And yet...?”

  Susannah turned to him wistfully. “There were plenty of times that I wished I’d had a boyfriend or a husband to see me through it and share in the joy.”

  Briefly, Gabe looked as if he wished that had been the case for her, too. “Did the reflux pass after you delivered the babies?” he asked eventually.

  “For the most part.” Susannah smiled. “I mean, occasionally I’ll have a flare-up, but most of the time I am fine.”

  “What do you think is causing it tonight?” Gabe was in physician mode again.

  Good question. Susannah took another bite of yogurt. She thought about the excitement the quintuplets had evidenced over now having a grandpa and grandma, and her worry that one day they would again focus on the fact they still did not have a father and would not likely get one, either. Although for now Gabe was a good stand-in for one. But he would be gone again at summer’s end, too. “Probably stress,” she said eventually.

  “Over the work you’re doing, or what happened to Mike this week?”

  And us. What I might be letting myself in for, when you eventually depart, as we both know you will. Will I be able to handle it? Will the quints?

  “Probably a little of both, plus financial stress, maybe,” Susannah said cagily.

  Gabe frowned and moved to stand opposite her, his hands braced on the countertop on either side of him. He studied her face. “Have you had more conversations with Bing?”

  Susannah sighed. “We talked on the phone. He still thinks I need a better long-range plan than just increasing my income through more commissions if we want to be really secure.” But what that would be, Susannah did not know. Her options were pretty limited, unless she decided to sell the house and take all the equity out and invest it. And she did not want to uproot the kids and live elsewhere.

  Gabe came closer yet again, all protective male, prodding, “And you think you should...?”

  Be very careful of my heart.

  Susannah shrugged, looked him in the eye and said, “For right now, I’m happy to take things day by day.”

  And she did not want to think beyond that.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Good to see you again.” Several days later, Bing shook Gabe’s hand in the bank lobby, then ushered him into his private office for their prescheduled appointment. “What can I do for you?”

  Gabe sat down and got out his checkbook. “I’d like to set up education saving accounts for Susannah Alexander’s quintuplets.”

  Bing slipped behind his desk, his expression genial but wary. “First of all, they already have a general welfare trust that she set up for them. And second, shouldn’t she be here for this?”

  Ah. The hard part. “She doesn’t know about it,” Gabe said.

  Bing cocked a brow. “Shouldn’t she? Given the fact these are her children?”

  Gabe shared the other man’s protectiveness when it came to Susannah and her kids. “Believe me, if I thought she would readily agree, I would tell her right now of my intentions.”

  “But she won’t,” Bing guessed with a frown.

  “I don’t think so, no.”

  For a moment, neither of them said anything. “I didn’t know the two of you were that serious, romantically,” Bing said finally.

  Neither did I, Gabe thought, until he’d listened to her worries and nursed her through her bout of reflux. Then, all he had wanted to do was take care of her and the kids. Not just on a casual, daily basis while he was in town. But long term, in every way. Gabe exhaled. “Can I speak to you in confidence?”

  Bing reached into his drawer and brought out a pamphlet. He handed it to Gabe. “Yes. The bank has strict rules regarding client privacy. Even if they didn’t, I can be trusted to keep a confidence.”

  Aware it was past time he unburdened himself to someone, Gabe leaned back in his chair. “Susannah’s twin, Belinda, and her husband, Brett, asked me to keep an eye on Susannah before they left on that last fateful trip. They also tasked me with caring for the embryos if something happened to them, and if Susannah did not feel up to dealing with the situation.”

  “But she did...”

  “So I considered my commitments honored and backed off until I came back to Texas and found out what had happened in my absence, and the financial difficulties she’s now facing. The bottom line is I’ve got a lot of money saved up and nothing really to spend it on, and she and the kids could really use it. So I thought if I set up individual college savings accounts for each of them and added to them each year, they’d be in a much better situation when they do reach college age.”

  Bing nodded agreeably. “They definitely would be. And you would realize a tax advantage, too, in the meantime. But I have to ask. What happens if you and Susannah have a falling-out? Once you gift them the money,” he warned, “you can’t get it back.”

  “I wouldn’t want it back,” Gabe said firmly.

  Bing lifted a skeptical brow.

  Gabe went on, “I want to know that all the quintuplets will be okay. That they will have choices later on, the kind that Susannah is worried she won’t be able to give them.”

  Bing tapped his pen. “This makes sense if you two were going to get married, but even then I would advise waiting until everything is official and the vows were said.”

  Without warning, Gabe had a fleeting image of Susannah walking down the aisle toward him, her beloved golden retriever and all of her children surrounding her. “We’re not getting married,” he said firmly. Although now that Bing had brought it up... Gabe had to admit he wasn’t averse to the idea of joining forces with Susannah permanently in some way or other...

  “Okay.” Bing got out a pad of paper and began to make some notes. He paused to look up, asking, “Well, what if you go on to marry and/or have children with someone else? How is a prospective spouse going to feel about you providing for someone else’s children?”

  Unable to see himself with anyone else, now or at any time in the future, Gabe shrugged. “
Good, I would hope. Otherwise I can’t see myself being involved with them.”

  Bing jotted a note. “What happens if she marries someone else?”

  Honestly? Gabe couldn’t see that happening, either. He gestured offhandedly. “She’s pretty independent.”

  Bing chuckled ruefully. “Don’t I know it. Still—” the banker sobered “—this is a big decision.”

  One that had already lifted a weight off Gabe’s shoulders. And would make it possible—he hoped, anyway—for him to go back to PWB in September without worrying about the future of her and the kids.

  “So if you wanted to wait, really think it over some more,” Bing continued.

  Gabe shook his head. “My mind is made up. I’m doing it. And I’m doing it today whether you help me or not.”

  When and how and where he would inform Susannah about what he had done was a question for another day.

  * * *

  “How come you don’t have to work?” the kids asked Gabe later the same afternoon, when he went over to take care of them for a few hours in the late afternoon.

  “My mommy has to work,” Gretchen pointed out, sitting at the breakfast table and coloring in plain view of her mother, who was currently painting a portrait in the adjacent sunroom.

  “Yeah,” Connor added, coloring, too. “She says all adults have to work.”

  Abigail squinted. “Are you retired, like Millie and Mike?”

  “No,” Gabe explained. At the children’s request, he was coloring, too. “I’m on leave.”

  Rebecca took her thumb out of her mouth and scoffed. “Leaves are on trees, silly.”

  “No. Leave...” Gabe found himself spelling it out—to whose benefit he did not know “...is like a vacation. Only it’s a little longer, and it’s because I didn’t take any time off for a very long while. But, just so you all know, I am going back to work part-time starting tomorrow morning.”