The Rebel Cowboy's Quadruplets

by Tina Leonard

  “Suz!” Mackenzie shook her head. “I don’t think that will help. Please excuse my sister, Justin. Sometimes she has a mouth problem.”

  He grinned. “I’m okay with little sister.”

  “It says here,” Suz said, “that we’re behind on taxes. Is that true?”

  Mackenzie’s mind raced. “I don’t think so, but I was in the last stages of my pregnancy at tax time, so there’s a chance it slipped my mind.” Horrified, she pulled out her laptop to check her records. “I guess I didn’t pay them. But we’re still in the grace window. I just have to pay interest on what I owed, which is a bummer but not the end of the world.”

  Suz looked up. “Which means Daddy Donovan has someone working in the records office if he knows we’re behind by a couple of months. Dirtbag.”

  Mackenzie took the paperwork from her sister. “So I’ll go down and pay them right now.”

  Suz hopped to her feet. “I’ll go with you. In case there’s any trouble.”

  “No. You stay here with the babies, if you don’t mind.” The last thing she needed was Suz raising hell in the tax office.

  Justin stood. “I’ll drive you.”

  She met his eyes, grateful for his calm, nonjudgmental strength. “Thank you.”

  “Please pop someone for me, Justin,” Suz said, “if they give my sister any trouble. She’s far too nice for her own good.”

  He laughed. “No popping will be necessary. Just a check will probably solve the whole matter.”

  “And then Daddy Donovan can shove this silly suit right up his—”

  “Suz.” Mackenzie grabbed her purse, making sure her checkbook was inside. “The babies will be up any second, but Jade and Betty are on the way. I’ll be back in an hour.”

  “Take your time,” Suz said cheerfully. “The girls and I will hold down the fort. When they wake up, we’ll have a long chat about how they’re not to ever fall for Daisy’s—or anyone’s—baloney. They have to be Hawthorne tough.”

  Justin walked Mackenzie to his truck and opened her door for her. “Your sister doesn’t pull her punches.”

  “She never has. She’s serious when she says she’d pop Robert Donovan a good one. And nothing good can come of spitting in your enemy’s eye.” She wasn’t being entirely honest—she was so steamed with Tommy right now that were she to run across him, she certainly would pop him a good one. The man had no scruples. The fact that he planned to rob his own daughters’ of their birthright inflamed her.

  “You’re quiet. You sure you’re all right?”

  She tried to gather her temper into a neat, tidy ball. “I’m furious, to be honest.”

  “You’re quiet about it. Suz is loud.” He reached for her fingers, held them in his warm, comforting hand. “Maybe her idea is worth considering, Mackenzie.”

  “What id— Oh, no, Justin. Suz was teasing about us getting married. Actually, she was being annoying.” Could this get any more embarrassing? She didn’t think so. He clearly felt her circumstances were so dire that he had to sacrifice himself, which was noble, but he didn’t know that she could survive the Donovans. “You working at the ranch is enough. Everything else you’re doing is beyond the call of duty. Please don’t let all the Bridesmaids Creek fun and games get to you.”

  He released her fingers after a moment. Didn’t say anything. Mackenzie looked out the window, her hands tight on her purse, furious with Daisy and Tommy more than Mr. Donovan. Daisy and her gang riding through the ranch last night, deliberately trying to create a ruckus and wake the babies, had been the last straw.

  She wasn’t going to put up with being harassed out of the home that was her daughters’ birthright—if they wanted it.

  Of course they would—they’d love growing up at the Hanging H just as she and Suz had.

  “The Donovans and Tommy Fields aren’t getting my house,” she said, and Justin laughed.

  “That’s my girl.”

  Mackenzie blinked. His girl? How did that work? Wasn’t he Mr. Never-Settle-Down? “I hope you know what you’re letting yourself in for.”

  He wore a confident, amused smile just shaded by his cowboy hat, and Mackenzie slid her fingers back into his, just to let him know he’d best beat a hasty retreat now while he had a chance.

  His fingers tightened on hers.

  * * *

  SUZ SAW FROG and CO. across the way, and since Jade and Betty were already in the house cooing at the babies, she struck out to chat up Frog. That man had the wrong idea if he thought he was going to bark up Daisy’s tree. The long, tall, sturdy cowboy appealed to her, and, one day, she planned to steal a kiss from Rodriguez Grant. “Hi!” she yelled, waving at the men so they’d stop. They turned, and Frog headed her way—just as Daisy’s motorcycle ripped up the drive. She pulled between them, parked her bike, got off and removed her helmet.

  She was grinning at Frog with a sassy smile. “Hello, Francisco Rodriguez Olivier Grant,” she said, and something inside Suz hit the boiling point. She leaped onto Daisy, pushing her down, and the two of them rolled over and over in the dirt.

  “Chick fight!” Squint hollered.

  “It’s not a chick fight until they start pulling hair,” Sam said, but Suz was too busy trying to grind Daisy and her dumb lawsuit into the ground to care. Suz was small, but she was tough—the Peace Corps had focused her—and there was no way Daisy was getting up until her hair was full of twigs and dust and her chamois skirt with the fringe was a darker shade.

  She felt Frog pulling her off Daisy and she fought wildly to shake him off. “What are you doing?”

  “Keeping you from going to jail, tiger.” He set her on her feet behind him and let Squint help Daisy up, which Squint was only too glad to do by the mesmerized expression on his face.

  “Ladies, ladies,” Frog said.

  “Oh, shut up!” Daisy said, abandoning all pretense of being a delicate flower. She glared at Suz. “What the hell was that for?”

  Suz grinned at the mess she’d made of Daisy. “For waking the babies last night when you rode through here with your band of rowdies. Next time you pull that stunt, I’ll pick you off with a well-placed BB—”

  “Now, now,” Frog said, covering her mouth with his hand and pulling her toward the house. “You have a nice day, Miss Daisy. Suz can’t play anymore.”

  Suz ripped his hand off her mouth. “Have you lost your mind? That bimbo’s suing my sister and me! The least I can do is make her think twice about what she’s doing!”

  Frog gazed at her admiringly as he dragged her into the house and into the kitchen. He retrieved a wet paper towel and proceeded to wash her face. She snatched the towel away from him. “Stop babying me.”

  He smiled. “I haven’t babied you yet. You’ll know when I do—and you’ll like it.”

  She sighed. “You’re so full of horse pucky. You had no right to stop me from doling out some just deserts on Daisy.”

  “I can’t have you going to jail, cupcake. And that little lady is the type to press charges. You know what would happen if you went to jail?”

  “I’d go to jail,” Suz said, annoyed.

  “And it would break my heart,” Frog said.

  She blinked. “Full of crap, Rodriguez.”

  He laughed. “You’ll never know, love, unless you find out.”

  She had no intention of falling for his cowboy blather. “You can show yourself out.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  He did so, and Suz crept to the kitchen window to watch him walk away. The fellows were still standing around talking to Daisy, who was no doubt whining about the ever-so-tiny can of whup-ass Suz had uncorked on her.

  Baby.

  She was relieved to see Rodriguez walk a wide circle around Daisy and go into the bunkhouse.

  “Smart man.” And
a smart man is right up my alley.

  * * *

  JUSTIN WAS AFRAID Mackenzie was in over her head with the Donovan/ex-husband problem. Nothing good could come of the deck being stacked against her to that extent, and from the sound of things, there couldn’t be a much worse posse to be after the Hanging H.

  He waited while Mackenzie paid the tax bill, noting her relieved expression when she came out of the courthouse. “It’s paid.”

  “Sorry you had to go through that.” He helped her into the truck.

  “It was embarrassing but nothing more.” Mackenzie smiled at him. “Thanks for driving me.”

  He didn’t say he wanted to be around in case there was a problem. His suspicion was that merely paying the tax bill wasn’t going to be enough to stop Donovan and Tommy from teaming up to get Mackenzie and Suz’s ranch. Back taxes had been the first look into how vulnerable the Hawthornes were. They’d find another crack to try to wedge open.

  Very bad to have greedy takers in cahoots against you.

  “You’re going to need to consider legal counsel of your own,” he said quietly, steering the truck toward the ranch.

  “You think this won’t be the end of the lawsuit?”

  “I think that you’re in a vulnerable spot and they’re going to try to exploit that.”

  “Excuse me, but I don’t feel particularly vulnerable.”

  He smiled. “That’s good.”

  She sighed. “Oh, who am I kidding? You’re right. The Donovans are known to be ruthless, and God knows Tommy is dumb enough to go along with anything if there’s a buck involved.”

  He shook his head. “Wrapping up the estate for you and Suz would be a good idea. Do you have a will?”

  “I’ll call a lawyer. Get everything done.” He felt her perk up beside him. “Monsieur Unmatchmaker will know who would be good in this situation.”

  He wished he felt comfortable about her asking legal advice from someone who billed himself as an unmatchmaker, but that was hardly his business. Mackenzie was vulnerable right now—any new mom would be, never mind a mom of quadruplets holding down a ranch basically on her own—but she also had a strong sense of independence. He was pretty certain she wouldn’t appreciate him putting too much of his nose into her business until—if and when—she asked. She’d been recently burned by her divorce, and he didn’t figure Mackenzie was all that interested in being overly advised by a man.

  “Hey, what’s Daisy doing here?” He pulled up the drive, surprised to see Daisy with Squint and Sam.

  “Being her typical man-magnet self.” Mackenzie hopped out of the truck. “Daisy, hit the road. Get off my property before I file a restraining order against you.”

  Justin switched off his truck right in the drive and strode after Mackenzie, whom he sensed was in no mood to be baited by Daisy. Mackenzie waved the brown envelope containing the lawsuit at Daisy.

  “This isn’t going to work,” Mackenzie told Daisy. “I paid my tax bill. You’re not going to get my ranch.”

  “You paid it?” Daisy looked at Justin. “Did he loan you money?”

  Justin saw Mackenzie take a deep breath to contain her temper.

  “Why would my employee need to loan me money, Daisy?” Mackenzie demanded.

  “Everyone knows you’re dead broke. Anyone would struggle with four kids. So it stands to reason—”

  “Daisy, go away. Right now. I very seriously will file a complaint against you—what happened to your face?”

  Justin had wondered the same thing.

  “Your crazy sister happened to my face.” Daisy looked to Squint and Sam for confirmation, and both men nodded.

  “Suz?” Mackenzie headed toward the house.

  “You put a muzzle on Suz, and I won’t file charges for physical violence, whatever it’s called,” Daisy called after her. “I’ve got three witnesses.”

  Mackenzie turned around, marching right back to the group. Justin steeled himself in case he was needed to protect Daisy.

  “If you file anything against my sister,” Mackenzie said, “you will wish you hadn’t, Daisy.”

  “Why?” Daisy asked. “You have nothing. My father can buy and sell you all day long.”

  “And you think life is all about money?” Mackenzie asked.

  Silently, Justin applauded this. “You’d best go, Daisy. The Hanging H is closed. You’re trespassing.”

  Daisy glared at Justin. “I’ll go, but this isn’t the end of anything. Not by a long shot, Mackenzie.”

  Justin winced. Bad combination: Daddy’s money and a spoiled brunette.

  Daisy glared at all of them before she hopped on her motorcycle. “See you later, Squint, Sam.”

  He hauled ass after Mackenzie, who was long gone. Justin found her in the nursery, her hands on Suz’s face, staring at the scratches on her sister’s cheeks and arms.

  “I just saw Daisy,” Mackenzie said. “It looked like you won.”

  Suz looked pleased. “Never doubt it.”

  “Here’s the thing,” Justin said as Mackenzie hugged her sister. “I’ll do the fighting from now on.”

  “You’re a mom,” Suz told Mackenzie before turning to Justin. “And you’re not family. I’ll do the fighting for the Hanging H.”

  “The next fight is going to be in a court of law.” Mackenzie forced Suz to sit in a rocker. Smiling at her babies, she lifted Holly out of her crib when she started to stir. “Justin says we need to get some legal counsel, make certain everything is tied up tight.”

  “All of my portion can go to the girls,” Suz said.

  Mackenzie gasped. “Absolutely not!”

  “It’s not like I’m ever going to have kids.” Suz glanced at Justin. “While the stork may not be finished visiting you.”

  Mackenzie blushed, which Justin thought was cute. She didn’t look his way.

  “Give me Holly,” he said, reaching for the baby. “You girls have a lot to talk about. Holly and I will take a walk.”

  “There’s no need.” Mackenzie looked at him. “We’re not talking anymore today. Suz needs to call up some friends and get out of the house for a change. Be a young person.”

  “I’ll take care of your sister,” Justin told Suz. “I agree with Mackenzie, though. I wouldn’t make Daisy’s life too miserable. We don’t want her figuring out a way to have you arrested.”

  “The sheriff is a family friend,” Suz said. “That’s why the Donovans went straight to a lawsuit. They knew the sheriff’s office would never bring any non-serious complaints to us. The town has been evenly split for a long time, with most folks siding with us instead of the Donovans. It chaps Daddy Donovan’s big-bucks ass.”

  He looked at Mackenzie. She studied him for a minute, reached out to take Holly back. “You go, too.”

  Justin wasn’t going anywhere. “I’d rather stay, if you don’t mind.”

  Suz slipped out of the room. “I’m going into town,” she called back down the hall.

  “Suz is right,” Mackenzie said. “You shouldn’t try to fight our battles.”

  Justin shrugged. “I’m not fighting anything. But I’m here should you need anything.”

  “You’ve done enough.” She kissed the top of Holly’s head, and Justin felt something tug at his heart. “We weren’t looking for a knight in shining armor.”

  “Well, I’m no knight, and I wouldn’t be caught dead in medieval armor.” He glanced around the room at the babies suddenly stirring. Heather tried to roll over without much success—she was too young for that but she gave it her best shot, craning her neck around—Haven blew a bubble, then spit up, which Mackenzie was quick to wipe away, and Hope looked like she was about to let rip an ear-stunner. “You’re sure you want me to go?”

  “Yes.” Mackenzie nodded, juggling burp c
loths and babies. “We’ll manage.”

  He had no doubt of that. Still, he cruised down the hall into the kitchen to give her privacy but to remain within earshot in case baby pandemonium hit a freakish level. But all sounded calm down the hall: infant wails were addressed, and he could hear Mackenzie singing and cooing to her babies.

  Maybe she didn’t need him. Actually, he knew she didn’t, but he was hoping he fit somewhere in her life.

  Mackenzie had a lot on her plate. Perhaps the best thing to do would be to give her some space. He understood needing space—if he didn’t, he’d be in Whitefish right now, on his father’s ranch, taking over the family business. There was no reason to do that, not with three other able-bodied brothers who were more interested in it than he was, even if the old man said Justin was his top choice to take over.

  Sometimes space was necessary.

  He left the house, closing the door quietly behind him.

  * * *

  MACKENZIE WAS STARTLED when the front doorbell rang, since everyone always used the back door and most people walked right in, anyway. So it couldn’t be Jade or Betty, or even Daisy, who used the back door as if she were one of the close-knit circle that visited the Hanging H. Casting a quick eye over the babies to make certain they were all secure for the two minutes she’d need to be gone, Mackenzie picked up Hope and took her to the door with her.

  “Who is it?”

  “Robert Donovan.”

  “Lovely,” she said to Hope. “Gird yourself for the first true annoyance in your young life.” She pulled the door open. “I thought you do all your talking through a lawyer.”

  Robert Donovan cast a tall shadow, and he wasn’t a particularly friendly-looking character, either. He had buzzed short hair—too impatient to be bothered with combing it, she supposed—and a self-righteous smirk.

  “I should have called on you sooner,” Robert said. “Instead of sending my request through my lawyer, for which I apologize and hope to make amends. May I come in?”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “It’s difficult to discuss what I have to say standing on the—”

  “Mr. Donovan, I have four babies. I don’t have time for this. Say what you came to say.”