The Cowboy's Triple Surprise

by Barbara White Daille

  After the reporter had gotten a number of shots, Annabel urged their group to the doors. “I know this is a big day for Cowboy Creek, but these babies need to get home for their next feeding.”

  “True,” Tyler said. “Let’s get them all strapped in.”

  And then came the final surprise of Shay’s morning. When Annabel wheeled her out of the building, she saw the vehicle standing at the curb.

  “You brought my car? And you had it washed?” she asked him in disbelief.

  “Cleaned it myself,” he said smugly. “Detailed it inside and out, too. I didn’t think Annabel would approve of newborn babies in a dust-covered vehicle.” The nurse laughed. “And after you’ve just had three babies, I sure don’t want you having to climb up to get inside my pickup.”

  His concern about her children’s health and her comfort touched her more than she could say. “Thanks,” she murmured. But the word was drowned out by the awws and exclamations from all the women.

  Tyler Buckham, playboy, strikes again.

  They were halfway home before she remembered she didn’t care.

  * * *

  HIS PLAN WAS WORKING.

  Shay had been grateful he’d cleaned up her car for the ride home with the babies. Once they’d gotten to the house and upstairs to the babies’ bedroom, she had seen the fully assembled cribs and turned away just a second too late to hide her suddenly teary eyes. Both reactions had to mean he’d taken at least one more step forward.

  He looked around the room. “Mo said to wait for you to decide how you wanted everything set up.”

  “It’s fine the way it is,” she said faintly.

  “What about this...whatever you’d call it? You surely don’t want it here in the middle of the room.”

  “It’s a changing table. Over there along the wall by the closet will work, please.”

  She had already prepared the bottles and was feeding Bree, sitting with her in a small pine rocker in one corner of the room.

  Finished moving the table, he looked across at her and the baby. “Ladies first for a change, huh? That’s a surprise.”

  “There have been a lot of surprises this morning.” She paused, then continued, “When I went to get Timothy, Bree was already fussing.”

  “Is she done eating now? Let me put her in the crib.” He took the baby from her. “Who do you want next?”

  She hesitated, then said, “Timothy. He’s been kicking at his blanket.”

  “He’s not used to being second. And that’s not like Bree to want to eat first. The other times I’ve been around, she’s been willing to wait.”

  “I think she wanted to get ahead of the boys. I guess she’s learning to assert her rights.”

  She put a slight emphasis on her final word. Again, an awkward silence fell, the way it had in her hospital room just before the nurses had shown up. What had she said then? We’re all in this together. She and the babies.

  Now he knew she’d deliberately aimed that comment at him. She had wanted to get the point across he was the odd man out. He handed Timothy to her and took a step back. “You might as well say outright what you’re thinking.”

  Another silence fell. For a minute, he thought she was going to deny anything was bothering her. Then she took a deep breath and said flatly, “I don’t like that you just showed up this morning without letting me know first.”

  “I told you, Jed asked me.”

  “But I didn’t. I didn’t know anything about it.”

  “I had no control over that.”

  “Even so, I don’t like you thinking you can walk right into my hospital room and take over.”

  “I was trying to help out.”

  “The nurses were there.”

  “Forget that,” he snapped. “This is all misunderstandings and things easily explained. Surface stuff. Why don’t you go deep and tell me what’s really bothering you?”

  She cuddled Timothy close to her as if to shield the baby.

  His heart thudded. She couldn’t possibly feel she had to protect her kids from their own dad.

  He blinked. When had he started thinking of himself in that role?

  The deep breath he took didn’t do much to steady his heart and his nerves.

  No matter what he thought or what he did, he wouldn’t win with Shay. She was determined to reject his good intentions. Clamping his jaws together, trying to hold back a response that wouldn’t help matters at all, he simply stared at her.

  She said nothing.

  Despite his irritation, the steady creaking of the rockers on the wooden floor and the sight of her feeding Timothy began to calm him. Even Shay had seemed to relax a bit, her expression looking more serene.

  He had a feeling this happy state wouldn’t last long.

  Before either of them could speak again, he heard the sound of the front door closing downstairs, then Mo’s greeting. “Where are those great-grandbabies of mine?”

  “In their bedroom,” he called back.

  Instantly, an expression of annoyance crossed Shay’s face.

  “What?” he demanded. “You think I’m taking over again, just because I answered Mo? Better that than have you yelling in Timothy’s ear.”

  “It’s not that,” she said swiftly. “I don’t think you should be here, around the babies. They’ll just start getting used to you, and then you’ll be gone.”

  “They’re already used to me.”

  “No, they’re not.” She looked stricken but kept her voice hushed, probably because she heard Mo’s footsteps in the hallway. “I want you to go.”

  He said nothing.

  A few moments later, Mo entered the room and Shay said brightly, “Grandma’s here now. She can help me.”

  “That I can’t, I’m afraid,” Mo said. “We’ve had an emergency call from the women’s club, and they need me at the community center right away. I just stopped in for a moment to welcome you all home.” She cupped her hand on Timothy’s head and smoothed his hair. “There’s my little love. And his brother and sister.” She moved over to the cribs. “Tyler, you should unwrap Jamie’s blanket a bit before he gets overheated.”

  He crossed the room.

  “Grandma,” Shay said almost plaintively, “can’t you stay at least for a little while?”

  “You’ll be fine,” Mo said in the same soothing tone she had used with Timothy. Obviously, she thought Shay was requesting assistance with the kids.

  Tyler knew she wanted Mo to stay so he would leave.

  “Where’s Carol?” Shay asked. “I thought she was on the list to be here today.”

  “She was, but she called me earlier. Her own little one is down with the sniffles, and Carol doesn’t want to bring any sickness around the babies. And rightly so.” She smiled. “Isn’t it fortunate we have Tyler here to help?”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Shay awoke with a start. She still sat in the rocking chair in one corner of the babies’ room. Her first thoughts flew to the triplets, but from her seat she could see they all lay sleeping peacefully in their cribs.

  Confused, she stared down at the afghan draped across her. She didn’t remember covering herself with it. The last thing she recalled was Tyler taking Bree from her at the end of another round of feedings. She had watched him place the baby in her crib, then stop by each of the boys’ cribs to check on them.

  She had closed her eyes tightly to block out the sight of him and to stem back a sudden flow of tears.

  And now here she was.

  The room faced west, and sunlight slanting through the windows told her it was later in the afternoon. Horrified, she realized she had no idea exactly how long she had slept. Part of her day had disappeared. Evidently, so had Tyler.

  She also realized she didn’t know who was in the house with her.

  Aft
er a quick check of the baby monitor on the dresser, she made her way downstairs. From the kitchen, the homey sounds of refrigerator and cupboard doors being opened and closed calmed her tension. Grandma was home again.

  But it wasn’t Grandma who stood at the stove holding a wooden spoon and stirring a small pot on one of the burners.

  “Tyler! What are you still doing here?”

  Muttering a curse, he started. The spoon fell to the floor. He picked it up and tossed it into the sink before turning to face her. “It would have been nice if you had coughed or something instead of sneaking up on me like that. Suppose I’d been holding one of the babies?”

  He had a point. Flushing, she said, “Sorry. I just woke up. I’m not fully functional yet. And I don’t know how I could have crashed like that. I didn’t miss hearing any of the babies crying, did I?”

  “Nope. I stayed upstairs for a while after you all went to sleep. And I haven’t heard a peep out of that.” With a fresh wooden spoon from the crock near the refrigerator, he gestured to the baby monitor on the counter.

  “Thank goodness for that,” she breathed. “But why are you still here? Where’s Grandma?”

  “She called a while ago and said she wouldn’t be home again until later this afternoon.”

  She hadn’t even heard the phone ring. “And you are...?” She pointed toward the stove, where steam rose from their biggest stockpot.

  “I’m making supper.”

  “Grandma asked you to do that?”

  “No. I volunteered. I make a mean baked ziti. I hope you’re hungry.” At that, her stomach gave a loud growl. He grinned. “Guess that answers my question.”

  “Of course I’m hungry. I haven’t eaten since early this morning at the hospital.”

  “And the ziti won’t be ready till tonight. Well, that won’t do. How’s tea and toast sound? That’s about the only other thing I’m good for. Or eggs, if you’d rather have those.”

  “Toast sounds great,” she admitted, “but you don’t have to cook for me.”

  “I’m waiting for the water to boil, and you know what they say about a watched pot. Have a seat.” He took the loaf of wheat bread from the bread box. “You have to eat to help keep up your strength to feed the babies. And you might as well conserve your energy while you have the chance.”

  Though it hadn’t been a long walk from the kitchen to the bedroom, she was still feeling tender from her C-section. Her usual chair seemed to call to her. She took a seat at the table and, while Tyler’s back was to her, watched each move he made. Filling the teakettle. Unerringly finding the plates in the cupboard near the sink and taking the butter dish from the top shelf of the refrigerator door. Adding pasta to the stockpot on the stove. He worked as if he were comfortable in the room, but as far as she knew, he’d never been in her kitchen...only in her bedrooms, both old and new.

  After a few minutes, he carried her plate and tea mug to the table and set them down in front her. Then he went to the seat at the head of the table as if he had sat there many times before.

  She stiffened.

  “Don’t worry,” he said, “it’s been washed more than once in hot, soapy water.”

  Only then did she notice the mug he had given her with the word Mom stenciled on it multiple times. Her eyes watered. She bit her lip to hide the smile that came so naturally to her. The smile she didn’t want him to see. “How are you managing to find your way around our kitchen so easily?”

  “Mo told me where to find the stew pot. The utensil drawer’s easy to spot. Everything else is just common sense. Besides, I saw the dish cabinet when she gave me a cup of tea and a piece of cake.”

  “Today?”

  “No, yesterday afternoon. I stopped by after I left the hospital.”

  Glancing down, she traced the handle of the mug with her finger. “When you finished assembling the cribs.”

  “Yeah.”

  Setting up the cribs had been his “least I could do” offer and part of the bargain that, technically, she hadn’t yet agreed to when her pains had begun. Visiting her and the kids at the hospital, complete with gifts for them all, had gone beyond that least of his efforts. Bringing her and the babies home from the hospital, staying here with them, making tea and toast and ziti all were so far above and beyond what she had expected, she didn’t know what to say.

  She knew what she wanted to believe...but that wasn’t somewhere her thoughts should go.

  “Thank you for your help with the cribs and the bedroom,” she said.

  “No problem.”

  “Also for backing me up this afternoon. I don’t know how I could have fallen so soundly asleep with three new babies to watch over.” She paused, then added, “And I don’t know what would have happened if you weren’t here.”

  “If they had cried, you’d have woken up.”

  “I hope so.”

  “You would’ve. It’s one of those mother’s instincts you just haven’t had to put to the test yet.”

  “Oh, really? And how would you know about that?” He smiled. His blatant attempt to make her feel better worked better than it should have. The smile did even more, sending a wave of pleasure through her. Again, she hesitated. Finally, she said, “You covered me with the afghan upstairs, too.”

  “Yeah. I didn’t have the heart to wake you to see if you wanted it or not. You looked so tired.”

  She smiled wryly. “You’re always good for a compliment, huh, Tyler?”

  “I’m good for a lot of things.” He reached out as if planning to touch her cheek. For a moment, he held his hand in the air. Then he pushed the plate a little closer to her. “Eat.”

  She took a bite from a half slice of toast. When she looked up again, he sat staring back solemnly, his gaze unblinking, his black lashes contrasting with his blue eyes. She drew in a breath and choked on a mouthful of crumbs. Covering her mouth with her arm, she coughed. And coughed.

  He reached over and patted her back. “Now, that’s the noise you should’ve made when you walked in here, instead of scaring me half to death.”

  She couldn’t help but laugh.

  His hand on her back stilled. His splayed fingertips grazed the back of her neck above her shirt, spreading warmth across her skin, sending hot shivers along her shoulders. Her mouth dried. She pressed her lips together, wanting to lick the taste of melted butter away but afraid he would take it as a tease. Resting his fingers against her neck might have been a move as innocent as when he cradled one of her babies’ heads in his big hand.

  Then he leaned closer, his eyes gleamed, and she knew her rationalizing hadn’t come close to the truth. His touch was anything but innocent and his intentions even less so.

  She wanted to protest. She had so many reasons to protest...

  Before she could name one of them, he brushed his mouth against hers. All she could think of was how much time had passed since they had been together like this and just how much she had missed his kiss. Missed him.

  Their relationship last summer hadn’t given them much time with one another, but they hadn’t needed time to learn what they each liked in a kiss. As he’d done back then, he started soft and easy and sweet but soon sent the heat level soaring. She could swear she heard a sizzle each time their lips parted and met again. Then she realized the sizzling was more than a feeling against her lips—it was a sound filling the air.

  It was the sound of starch-filled water spattering on the stove top.

  “I think something’s burning,” she murmured against his mouth.

  “Darned straight,” he said enthusiastically.

  “No, I think something’s burning on the stove.”

  He sat back, looked across the room and swore under his breath.

  She wanted to pull him to her again, to lose herself in another kiss, to forget why she should keep her distance and why he
wasn’t the man for her. She didn’t dare do any of that. Despite how his kisses made her feel, she couldn’t give in. He didn’t really care for her. He was just a playboy doing what he did best.

  She sat back and grabbed her tea mug and stared down at it. The words inscribed on it danced before her eyes, reminding her just why she should protest if Tyler ever came close to her again.

  * * *

  IF ANYONE HAD ever told Tyler he would be having dinner with this family of five, three of them babies under the age of one week and one of them a woman he’d like under—

  Whoa!

  He reined in, bringing his thoughts to a bone-jolting halt. How could he think of the babies and...and want their mother, all in the same breath?

  Looking down, he stabbed at his plateful of baked ziti, probably the best he’d ever made. It tasted as dry as dust to him. Fortunately, the other two adults in the room didn’t think so.

  “Tyler, you may cook for us anytime,” Mo said, forking up another mouthful of pasta.

  He smiled but didn’t speak. There wouldn’t be an anytime. That kiss this afternoon had shown him that. He needed to settle things with Shay. Tonight. After that, he wouldn’t be back.

  “This is delicious,” Mo went on. “Isn’t it, Shay?”

  Beside him, she nodded but kept her gaze on her plate.

  “It’s my specialty. I’m not good at cooking much else,” he admitted.

  I’m good for a lot of things, he had said to Shay just before he lost the willpower to keep from kissing her.

  Her gaze snapped up to meet his, then away. Was she remembering, too?

  Both the statement and the kiss had been foolish moves on his part, considering the circumstances and his need to earn her trust. Worse, that foolishness had caused a major setback to his plan.

  She had escaped from the kitchen while his back was turned and, for the rest of the afternoon, had stayed upstairs. After he’d gotten the ziti into the oven, he’d ventured up there, too, intending to apologize for his actions. He’d lost his nerve once he saw she sat holding one of the babies.

  One of their babies...

  Then Mo had arrived and he’d lost his chance, as well as his nerve. He had left the women together with the kids and come back downstairs to put the finishing touches on supper. Wanting to keep busy, to keep his mind occupied with something other than babies and kisses and Shay, he scrubbed the pots and utensils he had used to make supper. Then he needed another diversion. He had sat at the kitchen table with a copy of the local paper spread open in front of him.