Triplets For The Mountain Man

by K. C. Crowne

  Now, with my daughters at home, I especially hated leaving them. They’d been through enough and needed a stable household. It was my responsibility to give them that. And I didn’t take that responsibility lightly.

  I just wanted to keep my beloved hometown out of the wrong hands, and so far, I’d been successful, but my time was coming to an end.

  And as much as I should worry about my competitor, part of me just wanted to step down and be done with it. I wanted to focus on my girls and maybe get back to running my construction business. Or retire. With my finances in order, that was also an option for me, but I wasn’t sure I’d ever be ready to stop working. Not at forty-five. Though I’d already made more money than I would ever need, I still had a lot of life left in me.

  Piper carried Grace, while I carried Amelia. She made small talk, which I hardly paid attention to, as we walked to my truck.

  Piper helped snap Grace into her car seat while I took care of Amelia. I was grateful for the help wherever I could get it. It often felt like I needed to grow another set of hands, which was one reason I wanted to find a nanny, someone to help me since their mother wasn’t in the picture. But I was too picky. Whoever I chose would have to be as careful as I was, to love them like I did, and I just didn’t think it was possible to find that in what was essentially an employee.

  Perhaps I was being too picky, but they were my girls. My responsibility.

  “Thanks, Piper,” I said, patting the young woman on the back. “I appreciate all your help.”

  “No problem. I’m always around if you need me to keep an eye on them,” she offered. She started to say something, but stopped and smiled instead.

  I’m sure she wanted to know what the work emergency was about. Everyone did. I was the talk of the town ever since one of my staff members spread rumours that I had taken bribes from the developers looking to mine the valuable lithium from the ground. Then he’d left town. Or so we thought.

  James Fitzhenry had been our city treasurer. He hadn’t been seen in a month, shortly after he spoke about the supposed bribes. Poof. One day he was there, the next he was gone.

  Now I knew why.

  When it became obvious I wasn’t going to talk about what kept me busy for the day, Piper excused herself with a friendly smile. “Drive safely, Jeremiah.”

  She hurried back into the warmth of Little Cubs, and I climbed into my truck to get it started and warmed for my girls. They were covered in blankets, but since they couldn’t wear their thick coats in their car seats, I blasted the heat up and hoped the truck warmed quickly.

  You girls deserve the world. God as my witness I will do everything I can to give you that and more.

  “Shh,” I whispered, rocking Grace in my arms while holding a bottle for Amelia at the same time. I wished I was an octopus, especially at feeding time. These two wiggly little bodies were hard to handle at the same time, and it never failed that when I was feeding one, the other would get fussy - either impatient for food or if they’d already been fed, from gas or boredom or God knows what.

  Sometimes I wondered if I’d made a mistake. Staring at their sweet faces, with my mother’s nose and my father’s eyes, I knew I wanted them. But was I being selfish? Could someone else raise them better than me? Would an adoptive family have offered them a better life than I could?

  Hell no.

  My heart ached just thinking about it.

  They’d only been in my life for two months, but it was already hard to imagine life without them. They were my world, and I would do anything for them - even give up my role as Liberty’s mayor so I could be the best father possible. They deserved it.

  I dropped the bottle as I adjusted Grace in my arms, her screaming sounding so heart wrenching. I wished I knew the magic formula to make it stop, to make her happy. I felt so lost. Amelia started whimpering, and I grabbed the bottle and held it to her mouth as well. I needed to put Grace down to properly feed Amelia, but it pained me to do so.

  A knock at my door surprised me; I wasn’t expecting anyone. I groaned and contemplated not answering, but at the meeting at work that day, I was told the police may be stopping by to question me at any time. They could probably hear the babies crying and knew I was home. It wouldn’t look good to avoid them when they suspected me of several crimes.

  “One second,” I called out, hoping they could hear me over the noise.

  I placed Grace in her pack and play and hurried to the door. When it swung it open, I was surprised to not find the police, but Elle. She was still in her work attire - a tailored grey dress suit that fit her curvy body perfectly. A soft pink, silk shirt showed under her jacket, with a pink, grey, and white scarf tied around her neck loosely, pulling the look together.

  She’d always knew how to dress, but this was not the Elle I remembered from years before. While she was tall and fit, she also had curves in all the right places, making sure there was no doubt in anyone’s mind that she was a grown woman.

  Her blonde hair was pulled back in a bun, completing the sexy businesswoman look.

  I found myself wanting to release it from its confines and watch it tumble around her shoulders.

  Grab her hair in my fist and pull her lips to mine.

  “Listen,” she said, not meeting my gaze. “I feel really bad about our talk earlier. Can I come in so we can talk?”

  “It’s not a good time.”

  She looked past me into the house. “Do you need some help?”

  Before I could lie and tell her no, she pushed past me and into the living room. She made a beeline toward the crying, like a moth drawn to a flame and I couldn’t help but watch the sway of her perfect ass as she went. The girls were in pack and play sleepers in the living room. She walked over to Grace, who was crying the loudest, and picked her up.

  “Oh my gosh, Jeremiah. They’re beautiful.”

  I was at her side; ready to show her how to hold the baby if needed, but she didn’t need my help. She rocked Grace in her arms, speaking to her in hushed tones, and the baby’s cries quieted rather quickly. My cock twitched again at the how good she was with my daughter.

  “How did you do that?”

  “Huh?” Elle seemed to have been lost in a fantasy, shook her head, and met my gaze.

  “I’ve been trying forever to get her to calm down,” I said. “And you just walk in here and stop her crying in seconds.”

  “Babies can sense our stress, Jeremiah,” she said matter-of-factly.

  “I’m not stressed.”

  Yeah, right. Who the hell am I kidding?

  She gave me a look that said she knew I was lying. Amelia let out a soft whimper which turned to more crying, drawing our attention.

  “I was in the middle of feeding them,” I muttered, going to Amelia and picking her up to give her a bottle.

  “Alright, can I help?” Elle asked me.

  I’d originally made both of their bottles, not thinking. I motioned to Grace’s bottle sitting on the coffee table. “Do you know how to feed a baby?”

  “Do I know how to feed a baby?” she asked in a mocking tone. “Come on, Jeremiah. I used to babysit all the freaking time in high school and continued doing it in college too. I even nannied for a wealthy family for a while to pay for school. You know that.”

  She picked up the bottle and began feeding Grace as if it was second nature.

  “Alright, I’m sorry. They’re just my babies. I’m a little overprotective.”

  “Of course you are. I’m not surprised at all.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, you were always protective of me, and I wasn’t even your daughter.” She shrugged and took a seat on my sofa, her attention focused on the bundle in her arms.

  In case I could forget that she was my best friend’s daughter, well, there she was to remind me.

  Grace’s tiny fingers gripped the scarf, and if Elle minded, she didn’t let it show. Knowing Elle, her clothing wasn’t cheap.

  “So which o
ne do I have?” she asked me, though she didn’t look up.

  “You have Grace,” I murmured softly, taking a seat in the chair across from her. “She has a birthmark on her right hand, right by her thumb. She’s also smaller.”

  “Grace, after your mother,” she whispered.

  “Yes.”

  “And Amelia after your grandmother,” she said, looking at the baby in my arms.

  “Yes, right again.”

  “You always were a sentimental man,” she said with a playful smile. “Even if you try to hide it.”

  I couldn’t really argue that. My mother and my grandmother had played a big role in my life. Both women were gone, but I knew they’d have been so happy to see me as a father. Surprised, too. My mother had passed only a couple years prior, and I was her only child. She had always assumed our family would stop with me. But she’d been wrong. Not that anyone could have expected that I’d one day be the father of twin girls, especially at my age.

  “So do you forgive me?” Elle asked, her brown eyes wide and innocent. “About the article, I mean.”

  I thought for a moment. Truthfully, I couldn’t stay mad at her for long. She was Carl’s daughter, and nothing she ever did could make me hate her. Even if she was a journalist.

  “Yes, but please come to me before writing anything else in the future. And my daughters are off limits. Got it?”

  “Got it,” she said. “I’ll respect your wishes, Jeremiah. I just wanted to help.”

  “I know.”

  She was like her father. Carl was quick to anger because he was passionate - like Elle. He also had a good heart, but he always thought he knew what was right for someone else. Elle took after him more than I could have imagined.

  “George Holt is a terrible man,” Elle commented, frowning. “Like, really bad. There’s no way he can be mayor of Liberty.”

  “I know.”

  Elle seemed relieved that I agreed with her. I knew George well enough to know that he had an agenda. He had been a developer himself, and he’d been trying for years to grow Liberty into a tourist town to rival some of the other ski towns in the U.S. But the townspeople didn’t want that. It would mean the raising of rents, many would likely be displaced, and small businesses would be replaced with large corporations. We favoured our local coffee shops over Starbucks. It’s what made Liberty what it was.

  George wasn’t born and raised there; he didn’t get it. He was everything Liberty wasn’t, and there was no way he would win the election. Unless no one ran against him. As the current mayor, taking over after my father died in office, it was a given that I'd run for re-election and win. Until the latest scandal.

  We finished feeding the babies, but Elle continued holding and rocking Grace gently as we talked mostly about frivolous things. Elle always could carry a conversation all on her own.

  “I think Grace might be getting sleepy,” she said, her voice low.

  “Amelia too,” I commented, noting the little girl’s eyelids drifting closed. “It’s about their bedtime anyway.”

  I stood, and Elle did too. She followed me to their nursery at the end of the hallway, next to my bedroom. She stared around the room, her mouth opening as she saw the cribs. The baby beds were ornate and heavy, well-made and sturdy. Above each twin’s crib was their name, carved in wood. Amelia’s was painted in purple, my grandma’s favorite color, and Grace was painted a soft blue, my mother’s favorite.

  “Wow, did you make these?” Elle asked, running her hand over the crib.

  “I did.” I smiled as I watched her trace the name above Grace’s crib. “I made everything in here, actually.”

  “I knew you were good with woodworking, but wow,” she breathed. She placed Grace down in the bed and stared at her for a bit, a small smile on her face.

  I did the same with Amelia, watching as she fell into a deep sleep. I turned on the baby monitors and motioned for Elle to follow me out. I pulled the door, but left it open just a smidge so a small light from the hallway could creep in.

  We walked back into the living room, and I thought that might be it. Elle had apologized. I forgave her. We put the kids to bed. Now she could leave.

  But she sat down on the couch again, heaving a sigh. “You don’t happen to have anything to drink, do you?”

  “I might have some beer in the fridge.” I scratched my beard.

  “Ooh, can I have one?”

  My first instinct was to tell her no, that she was too young. But she wasn’t too young anymore. She was a grown woman, not Carl’s little girl.

  “Sure,” I said, making my way into the kitchen. I grabbed one for her, then decided it wouldn’t hurt to have one now that the girls were down. Only one.

  I opened the bottles and walked back into the living room, handing one to Elle before taking my place in the large leather chair across from her again.

  She drank from the bottle before giggling. “It feels weird to be drinking around you, ever since that time you picked me up from the party. You know, I don’t drink much these days, thanks to you.”

  “Good, I’m glad my talk stuck with you.”

  “It did,” she said, turning the bottle around in her hands. “I mean, that and my daddy yelling at me, but you talked to me like an adult. I really appreciated that.” She took another swig, made a face and put the bottle on the table.

  “You were sixteen. Not yet an adult, but not a child either.”

  “My father didn’t think like so. He still thought I was a child.” She spoke softly, her eyes glazing over. I knew she had to miss her father. We all did, but she had a special bond with him. She was daddy’s little girl.

  But it was hard to imagine her as anyone’s little girl now.

  She pulled off the scarf, tossing it on the table before taking off her jacket. “Sorry, it’s a bit warm. Do you mind?”

  “No, of course not.”

  She placed her jacket on the couch next to her. Her silky pink shirt clung to her body. It didn’t go all the way down to her skirt either, showing off just a hint of her stomach.

  I took a quick swig of my beer, trying to distract myself. I couldn’t look at her body, what was I doing? She was my best friend’s daughter.

  Elle crossed her legs, and her skirt rode up, showing off her toned thighs. She had always been into yoga and keeping herself in shape, even though she didn’t work out too much. She was no athlete, just liked to keep herself healthy.

  I put the beer down, afraid it was clouding my thoughts. I had to adjust in my seat, cringing as my erection brushed against my jeans. I cursed myself; that’s what I got for having such horribly inappropriate thoughts about Elle.

  Thankfully, she didn’t seem to notice and continued talking. “Do you remember that time Dad thought I took a drink from his beer? When I was eight, maybe?”

  “I do,” I chuckled, remembering Carl’s face. He wasn’t so much mad as he was worried. “He kept asking me to call poison control to make sure it wouldn’t hurt you. You kept insisting you’d only smelled it and thought it was gross.”

  “That’s exactly what happened. I smelled it, thought it smelled like pee, and put it right back down.”

  “And Carl kept saying, ‘It’s okay if you tried it, you won’t be in trouble. I just need to know in case it can make you sick’”

  “Yes! He really was a good dad.” Her voice cracked.

  “He was. I hope to be as good as him.”

  “Oh, I have no doubt. I always thought you’d make an amazing father.”

  I looked down at my hand. “Thank you. That means a lot coming from you.”

  A silence hung over us. I glanced up and found her staring at me, a pained look on her face.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Do you think—never mind.” She shook her head as if trying to banish whatever thoughts she was having.

  “Do I think what?”

  She hesitated, but I could tell the words were on the tip of her tongue. Finally, she sighed. “D
o you think my father was proud of me?”

  Tears welled in her eyes, and it killed me. Any sexual thoughts I’d had went right out the window. This was Carl’s little girl. This was Eleanor.

  “Of course, Elle,” I murmured. “How could he not be?”

  “I don’t know. He just had all these big dreams for me, for me to go off to college in New York City, to become this big-time journalist. It was supposed to be worth being gone for so long. I even missed—” She stopped short, but I knew what she was thinking.

  “Elle, there’s no way you could have known he was going to pass away so quickly. No one did. He showed no signs, no symptoms, and even if he suspected it, you know your father was far too stubborn to let anyone know something was wrong.”

  She nodded. “I guess so. I feel like I missed so much, and I still ended up here. But it’s too late. He’s not here.”

  I wanted to cross the room and hug her but wasn’t sure it was appropriate. I also didn’t trust my thoughts since only moments before I’d gotten an erection looking at her. Jesus, I couldn’t be sure what would happen if I actually touched her.

  So I stayed put, tried to comfort her from afar. “Elle, your father just wanted you to be happy. He didn’t care what you did with your life, as long as you were happy and healthy - and you are, aren’t you?”

  She nodded. “For the most part, yes. Except for his absence, I really do love being home.”

  “And he would be proud of you for taking over the Leader.”

  She barked out a laugh. “Proud of me running that pitiful excuse for a paper, you mean? Not like we’re going to be in business much longer. No one wants to read the local paper anymore.”

  “He’d be proud of you because you took a chance. You took ownership of your life and didn’t let your doubts stop you.”

  She was silent for a second, and a smile crossed her face. “Thanks, Jeremiah. You knew my father better than anyone, so it means a lot to hear that. You always could get through to me.”

  She stood up, and before I could stop her, she crossed the room, leaned down toward me, and wrapped her arms over my shoulders. Her breasts pressed nearly into my face since she was standing and I was sitting. It was hard to breathe, hard to think for a second. She pulled away, and the erection was back.