The Cowboy SEAL's Triplets

They gawked at him. John could hear the wheels turning.

“He’s right,” Clint said reluctantly.

“Never say that an out-of-towner is right,” Carson said, his words hushed.

“Nevertheless, he has a point,” Dig said, his voice stunned.

“At least it’s not Handsome Sam,” Gabriel said. “I think I can stand anything but giving our girl up to a man with a handle like that!”

* * *

THE SIX MEN got out of the two trucks, warily eyeing the Donovan compound.

“Well,” Dig said to John as they stared at the massive two-story gray edifice, “here’s the yellow brick road. And while you might want us to play your Cowardly Lion, Tin Man, Scarecrow, Toto and—”

“I’m not playing Dorothy,” Red said, “no cracks about my hair or anything.”

They gazed at his long red mop for a second. John didn’t think there was a man on earth he’d rather deem Dorothy less than Red. The man had arm muscles that looked like a bear’s.

“Cowardly Lion, Tin Man, Scarecrow, Toto and a flying monkey,” Dig said, his tone impatient with his friend.

“Okay, I can go with a flying monkey. They were kind of cool,” Red said, but they ignored him and went back to staring at the house where Daisy lived, and thus, her warlock of a father.

John shook his head. “I really don’t know if this is the right plan, fellows.”

“Well, you came to us for help, need I remind you?” Carson said. “And this is how we suggest you help yourself. You’re going to have to man up and ask for his daughter’s hand in marriage.”

“What?” John said, and Daisy’s gang favored him with narrow gazes.

“That’s what we’re here for, isn’t it?” Gabriel demanded.

“I was going to start small,” John said, “like maybe let Robert Donovan know that I’d like to find his daughter.”

They shook their heads.

“Here’s the problem,” Clint said. “We have it on good authority that Donovan doesn’t know his little angel is expecting his grandchild.”

“That can’t be possible. This is BC,” John said. “Everybody knows everything about everybody, and if they don’t, it’s because they’ve buried themselves deep under a rock.”

“And just who do you think would tell Mr. Donovan that his daughter is in the family way?” Dig asked, staring at him. “Don’t you think he’d have had a word or two with the man he thought had knocked up his daughter and left her high and dry?”

“You being that fellow and all,” Red said, “now that the truth has come out.”

“No truth has come out!” John said, but he was beginning to wonder himself. He’d asked Sam, but Sam had denied knowing who the father of Daisy’s baby was. Swore up and down that he didn’t care, either. If Daisy needed a husband, then Sam Barr was more than happy to be that husband.

Jealousy had practically eaten a hole in John’s cool, calm persona—and Sam knew it. Enjoyed it, even.

“But admit it, you’re beginning to think you’re going to be shopping for blue or pink in the very near future,” Clint said, and John’s breath hitched.

“It’s actually a pretty appealing idea,” he said, and they clapped him on the back in the nearest sign of camaraderie he’d experienced from them. “Hey! You’re trying to get me to go up there, spill the beans—which are Daisy’s beans to spill, by the way—and get my head pounded down my neck!”

They guffawed, just a bunch of knuckleheads having a great day, more than happy to add him to their group for the moment because it made them a whole half-dozen cars on the crazy train for a change.

“Aw, Donovan’s not going to pound your head,” Dig said. “Nobody’s afraid of Daddy Warbucks anymore. But you are going to get the speech about how you’re not worthy of his adorable daughter, and how he ought to bury you under Best Man’s Fork where no one can find your remains for knocking up his baby girl, and that if you think you’re going to get one penny of his dough you’re crazier than a bedbug.”

“Well, when you put it that way, how can I resist?” John asked, not that worried about Donovan, anyway. A security truck pulled up, with Donovan riding shotgun to see who was trespassing on his holy land, and the five dummkopfs scattered in their truck.

“What brings you to my humble abode, Squint?” Donovan demanded as the dust plume rose from John’s newfound friends’ hauling asses.

“It’s John now, Robert. And I’d like a moment of your time,” John said, and the man narrowed his eyes at him.

It wasn’t a stare most people would like to receive, but John had seen a lot worse. He shrugged. “If you have time, that is. Sir.”

Just like his military days, he knew when to apply the courtesy treatment. Robert perked up.

“I might spare you five minutes. Start talking.”

“Actually, what I’ve come to say is private.” John glanced at the armed guards and the driver, who was no doubt packing as well, with a shrug. “Regarding family business.”

Robert grumbled a bit. “I suppose you want to be invited in.”

John shrugged again.

“Those five wienies who just hit the road have never darkened the doors of my house. Why would I let you in?”

“I can talk out in the fresh air just as well as inside four walls, Robert. I’m just asking for you to hear me out in private.”

After a moment, Robert got out. His men drove away. “So, you’ve come to find out where my daughter is. She said you would.”

“I’m glad she knows me so well.”

“Harrumph!”

“Look, Robert, I happen to think an awful lot of your daughter, and—”

“Son, let me stop you.” Robert drew himself up to his full six feet four and glared. “I know where you come from, I know about your family. What do you imagine you can possibly offer my daughter?”

John ignored that, took a deep breath and then the plunge. “There’s a very good chance Daisy may be having my baby. I need to find her.”

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