Triplets For The Texan

Naomi shook her head. “I still can’t believe it. This means we’ll have to plan a baby shower.”

Cecelia laughed. “Give it time. I’m still in my first trimester. Plenty of opportunity for that. Deacon and I are going to keep the news to ourselves for a while, but he knew I would have to tell you two.”

“Well, I should think so,” Naomi said. “We’ve never kept secrets from each other.”

Simone grimaced inwardly. The trio’s tight friendship had backfired in Royal at times. Some people referred to them as the mean girls. The label wasn’t fair. They weren’t mean. But when three women were extremely successful, attractive and high-profile, there were bound to be those who took potshots. The criticism had sharpened after Naomi, Cecelia and Simone had been admitted into the Texas Cattleman’s Club.

Some diehards still thought women should be kept out. And somebody had started the rumor that Naomi, Cecelia and Simone could be behind the malicious blackmail messages various residents of Royal had been receiving via social media.

It wasn’t true. Even Cecelia had received one of the blackmailer’s threats. Simone, too, though she hadn’t told anyone.

Later that evening as Simone drove home, she struggled with feelings of envy. Cecelia had a baby on the way and a wedding to plan. That meant Cecelia’s situation was cause for celebration. Simone, on the other hand, was pregnant with triplets whose biological father was an unknown sperm donor.

Lots of people used sperm donors in situations of infertility. But those were loving couples who made a joint decision and were excited about the chance to bring a child into their home.

Simone had done it selfishly because of her grandfather’s stupid, archaic will. Blinking back tears, she clutched the steering wheel and apologized to the three tiny sparks of life in her womb. “I swear I’ll be a good mom,” she whispered. “I would take it all back if I could, but now you’re on the way, and I want to keep you. You’ll find out soon enough that grown-ups make mistakes. Me, in particular.”

It would have been nice to have someone say, “There, there, Simone. Don’t be so hard on yourself. Everything will work out for the best. You’ll see.” Unfortunately, unless she confided in Naomi and Cecelia, no one in Royal was likely to fulfill the role of pep squad. She’d have to be her own cheerleader. First order of business would be enjoying a relaxing evening at home.

Her house was welcoming and warm, but in a whole different way than Naomi’s. After the ad agency landed its third big client, Simone had moved out of her bland apartment and purchased a five-acre estate in Pine Valley. The place was ridiculously large for one person, but she loved it.

At least she would have plenty of room for a live-in nanny. Or maybe two. Triplets! How would she ever manage?

When she made the turn from the main road onto her property, she noted with pride the way the flowering cherry trees lined the driveway. When the wind blew, tiny white petals fluttered down like snow. Spring in Royal, Texas, was her favorite time of year.

It was a surprise to see a black SUV parked on the curving flagstone apron at her front door. An even bigger shock was the man who stepped out to face her. Not bothering to put her small sports car in the garage, she slammed on the brakes and slid out from behind the wheel. “What are you doing here, Hutch?”

She hated the way her heart jumped when she saw him. Even without three babies on the way, she shouldn’t get involved again. Given the current situation, it would be emotional suicide to think she had any kind of chance with the good doctor.

In his muscular arms he held a medium-sized box. “I brought you some books from my medical library. I remembered how you like to research things on your own, so I thought you could take a look at these. Plenty of stuff here about multiple births, both from a medical standpoint and from a practical parenting aspect.”

“That’s thoughtful of you,” Simone said. “Do you offer this kind of service to all your patients?”

His lips quirked in a reluctant smile. “You’re not my patient, remember?”

“True.” She wasn’t exactly sure what the protocol was here. In any case, she couldn’t leave the man standing outside. “Would you like to come in for some iced tea or a cola?”

“Decaf coffee?” he asked hopefully.

“That, too.”

“I’m in.”

She unlocked the front door and tossed her keys on a table in the foyer. Hutch set the box on a chair and looked around with interest. “I like your house,” he said. “It looks like you.”

Simone made her way to the kitchen, painfully aware that he followed closely at her heels. “How so?” She opened the refrigerator to cool her hot face and to hide for a moment. Her heart raced at a crazy tempo.

“Modern. Stylish. Simple. Sophisticated.”

Wow. Was that really how he saw her? While she put the coffee on to brew, Hutch perched on a stool at the bar. “Thank you,” she muttered. Was he thinking about all the money she had spent while he was caring for sick babies in terrible poverty? Was his compliment actually a veiled criticism?

Maybe she was reading too much into a casual comment.

“Where will you live now that you’re back?” she asked. “Somewhere near the hospital?”

“Actually,” he said with a weary grin, “I’m going to be your neighbor. I’ll be closing on the brick colonial down the road soon.”

“Oh.” She knew the house well. It was less than half a mile from her place. Was that a coincidence?

Hutch shrugged. “I’m too old for bachelor digs. I wanted to put down roots.”

“No more Doctors Without Borders?”

“I don’t think so. It’s a young man’s game. I gave it more than five years of my life. It’s the best thing I’ve ever done, but it was time to come home.”

“I’m sure your parents are delighted.” Hutch’s mother and father were both lawyers. They had raised their son to believe he could be or do anything he wanted. Hutch had excelled all the way through school, despite the occasional run-ins with bullies.

“They were over the moon when they heard.”

“Must be nice. My mom and dad drop by only when they want to lecture me about something. Of course, you probably remember that.” Her parents had been none too thrilled about their only daughter dating someone they hadn’t handpicked for her. Neither Hutch nor Simone had let the veiled disapproval dissuade them.

Remembering the passionate affair and its inevitable end was something Simone managed to avoid. Mostly. But with Hutch in her kitchen, the memories came crashing back.

The two of them had met at a party at the Cattleman’s Club. Simone had been barely twenty-two and ready to fall in love. The town had thought she was promiscuous—still did—but that was a facade she hid behind. If people wanted to look down their noses at her, she wasn’t going to stop them.

Being introduced to Troy Hutchinson by a mutual acquaintance had been kismet. The moment she laid eyes on him, she knew he was the one. Though he was ridiculously handsome, it was his quiet, steady intelligence that drew her in. Hutch was no callow boy looking for an easy lay.

He had talked to her, listened to her opinions. Danced with her. Laughed at her jokes. And in a secluded corner outside the club, he had kissed her. Even now she could remember everything about that magical moment. The way he smelled of lime and starched cotton. The sensation of feeling small and protected, though she was more than capable of taking care of herself. He was taller than she was and extremely fit, which made sense, of course, for someone who had devoted himself to the pursuit of medicine.

“Simone? Hello in there...”

Suddenly he was standing in front of her, his smile quizzical. “You’ve been stirring that cup of coffee for a long time.”

Heat flooded her cheeks. Did he know what she was thinking? Could he read her mind?

“Here,” she said. “I fixed it the way you like it. Strong enough to peel paint and enough sugar to give you cavities.”

He took the cup and sipped slowly, his eyes closing in bliss. “Now this is good coffee. Might even compete with the real stuff in Africa.”

“I’m sure not everything was great. As I recall, you were a meat-and-potatoes guy, too. Not much prime beef where you were, I’d say.”

“You’re right, of course. I lost twenty pounds after I arrived in Sudan and never quite gained it back.”

“Let’s take our drinks into the den.” She grabbed a package of cookies out of the cabinet and led the way. Hutch chose a wing-backed chair near the dormant fireplace. Simone claimed one end of the sofa.

He sat back with a sigh, balancing his cup on his flat abdomen. “You’ve done well for yourself, Simone. I’m proud of you. Everyone in town sings your praises—well, your ad agency’s praises,” he clarified.

“That might be a stretch, but thanks. Hard work and a dollop of luck.”