The Bride’s Matchmaking Triplets

“Cordial,” she said, and the word held a world of doubt.

“Friends, even,” he insisted, giving the babies an extra jiggle that made Jasper smile. “I am the minister of Little Horn, after all. I’m expected to be friendly with everyone.”

The fire flashed once more, as if she was building up a head of steam.

“Well, certainly we should be friends, Pastor Stillwater,” she drawled. “After all, I wouldn’t want to damage your reputation.”

Brandon blew out a breath. She simply could not accept his word that his reputation was not the issue. “This isn’t about my standing in the community,” he tried again. “It’s about what’s best for the triplets.”

Her look eased, and she returned her gaze to Eli, whose eyes were closed as she rocked him in the warm shade. “I suppose you’re right. They get upset even when I raise my voice.”

So did he. He would much rather put a smile on her face, make her laugh, than be cause for consternation.

“Then let’s start over,” Brandon suggested. “Pretend we just met.” He gave her a nod. “How do you do, Miss Dumont? I’m Brandon Stillwater, the pastor of the Little Horn church. I’d shake your hand, but mine seem to be full at the moment.”

She shifted on the quilt, the movement making Eli crack open his eyes a moment.

“A pleasure to meet you, Reverend,” she said softly, as if afraid to believe they could return to anything approaching normality. “I’m Elizabeth Dumont, and I have the honor of looking after these three delightful gentlemen.” Her smile faded. “At least for now.”

Both of Brandon’s babies were nodding off as well. He crouched and laid each on the quilt. Elizabeth did the same, and he pulled up the edge to cover them all.

“What will happen to them after I’m gone?” she asked, straightening as he did.

She was leaving? Well, of course she’d leave if she couldn’t find employment in Little Horn. Why should that fact concern him?

“David McKay is planning to set up a children’s home,” he told her, offering her his hand to help her rise. Her fingers were supple in his, yet they had a strength he didn’t remember from before. “I learned today we may have a house.”

Behind him, he heard a rustling sound, as if something moved among the bushes at the end of the yard. Before he could turn and look, Elizabeth brightened. “Oh, that would be wonderful.”

“It won’t be ready for a while,” he cautioned, focusing on her. “The railroad is building a new home for our stationmaster, Mr. Crenshaw. As he won’t be needing the one he had built before he became stationmaster, he’s offered to donate it to the church. It will need to be renovated first. Those funds will have to come from the Lone Star Cowboy League, as the church benevolence fund is empty after seeing to those affected by the drought.”

“Will you need someone to run it?” she asked, cinnamon-colored brows up in obvious hope.

Brandon shook his head. “I’m fairly sure the league will want a couple, and I quite agree. It won’t just be the boys, you see. Other orphans are scattered about the area, living with distant relatives or friends of the family who are hard-pressed to care for them. The house will be full before we even open the doors.”

“I suppose it will be good for the boys to have other children around,” she allowed, tucking a strand of red hair back behind her ear. “I’ve seen how much they enjoy Maggie’s company.”

David McKay’s eight-year-old daughter, Maggie, was something of an adventurer, climbing out of her bedroom window to escape scolds, swimming in the stream on their ranch with the skill of a fish. David had told him how she’d come to regard the triplets as her little brothers and had been inconsolable when they had to leave the Windy Diamond, the McKay ranch. She’d found solace only because she’d gained a mother in Caroline.

“They’ll have brothers and sisters at the children’s home,” Brandon promised Elizabeth. “And I still haven’t given up hope that someone will want to adopt all three.”

Something flickered across her face, and he wasn’t sure if it was emotion or a shadow from the tree.

“They’re such darlings,” she murmured, gaze on her slumbering charges. “I can see Jasper as the leader, guiding his brothers. Eli is going to be the planner, determining how to make Jasper’s ideas real. And Theo will be the one who comes to his mother and confesses all before anyone gets into trouble.”

He smiled. “Bo accused me of that often enough. Our mother had the sweetest look. One moment in her company, and you just had to unburden yourself.”

“You have the same kind of smile that invites people to confide in you,” she said. “I’m sure everyone in your congregation finds it easy to talk to you.”

She had, once. He could remember long walks through the park sharing hopes for the future, sitting on her aunt’s front porch talking until the stars brightened the night sky. Brandon shook his head. “You better be careful, Miss Dumont. I think you just gave me a compliment.”

She raised her chin. “It wasn’t a compliment. It was an opinion. After all, Mr. Stillwater, we just met, remember.” She batted her lashes at him, and Brandon grinned.

“Ahem.”

He glanced up to find Mrs. Hickey standing at the corner of the parsonage with Mrs. Bachmeier and Amos’s wife, Susan, crowded on either side, eyes wide. Behind him, he thought he heard footsteps hurrying away, but when he glanced back, he saw no one.

“It’s time for us to clean the parsonage, Pastor,” Mrs. Hickey announced, although he was certain the ladies had just been in to sweep and dust earlier in the week.

Brandon offered them all a grateful smile as he turned to face them. “Very considerate of you, but everything seems fine at the moment.”

Mrs. Hickey drew herself up. “Nonsense. We cannot have our minister living in squalor. Cleanliness is next to godliness. Everyone knows that.”

Brandon inclined his head. “I applaud your determination. Since you feel so strongly, do what you must to rid my house of any sign of squalor, ladies. I’ll just help Miss Dumont return the triplets to the boardinghouse.”

Mrs. Hickey brightened. “Oh, is Miss Dumont having trouble managing the little foundlings? Perhaps we should speak to Lula May McKay about finding another nanny. I always thought they would do better with one of our own instead of a stranger.”

He was ready to protest that Elizabeth was no stranger, but she gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head. Right. She still refused to acknowledge their past in public.

“Miss Dumont has the trust of the Lone Star Cowboy League,” Brandon assured the women. “And mine.”

Mrs. Bachmeier and Mrs. Crenshaw nodded, but Mrs. Hickey looked disappointed. Beside him, Elizabeth offered him a smile that made him insufferably pleased with his ability to ease troubled waters.

“Well, hurry along, then,” Mrs. Hickey ordered. “I’m sure we’ll have all kinds of questions about what to do with various items. Unless, of course, you’d just like us to sort things willy-nilly.”

Brandon nearly groaned aloud. The last time Mrs. Hickey had organized his study, he hadn’t been able to find his sermon notes for days.

“I’ll be right back,” he promised the ladies before turning to Elizabeth. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. I can see you have very important things to do, Pastor.” Her voice hinted of a laugh.

He did have things to do, and now he had to do them with an audience. He glanced down at the babies. All three had opened their eyes and were regarding him with such seriousness he had a feeling he was supposed to beg their pardon too.

He’d been concerned about his congregation, he’d been concerned about the triplets. Now he found himself more concerned about Elizabeth’s future. He knew it wouldn’t be easy finding a governess position among the ranching families surrounding Little Horn.

But if gossip about him and Elizabeth began to spread, she might never find an employer. The Lone Star Cowboy League might even have to rescind the offer for her to care for the boys.

It very much looked as if Elizabeth Dumont had become his responsibility. A responsibility that, for once in his life, he wasn’t sure he was capable of meeting.

Chapter Four (#u00a166ff-16ad-5726-8f7f-ccf03e558a42)

Elizabeth thought of Brandon many times over the next few days. He wanted a fresh start, a chance for the two of them to begin again as friends. She ought to accommodate. For as long as she was in Little Horn, he would be her minister. He’d promised to help her find a new position. And he clearly cared about the boys. But it was difficult shifting her heart away from the hurt of their parting four years ago.

As Sunday rolled around, she knew she had to try harder. Like it or not, she realized, a minister’s reputation was important to his calling. She truly didn’t want to give anyone the impression she was disappointed in Brandon. She put on her best dress, a peach-colored taffeta with black lace in the center of the bodice and double rows of black bric-a-brac trimming the long sleeves and graceful hem. She combed her hair up and covered it with a peach-colored hat with a black lace veil. It was foolish, really—one baby finger poked in the wrong place would send the confection tumbling from her head, but for some reason she felt like taking the risk and looking more like a lady than a servant for once.

It must have worked, for one of the older men in the boardinghouse spotted her as she stepped out into the hallway and volunteered to haul the cart down the stairs for her. His roommate offered to carry two of the boys while she took the third.

“Cute little fellers,” the man who had carried the cart said with a smile that spread his thick mustache. He bent to chuck Theo under the chin as the boy snuggled in Elizabeth’s arms. The baby promptly burst into tears, and the man backed away, panic on his rugged face.