Her Triplets' Mistletoe Dad

Billy’s wife, Grace, had just pulled up to the cottage. She was a teacher in town, and their daughter—now in kindergarten—hopped out of the car and turned to wave at Seth’s truck as he came around the bend. He smiled and waved back. Poppy was a cute little girl, and he had a soft spot for the kid. But then Grace and Poppy both turned their attention to Gabby’s car following his truck, and Grace brightened and waved. Here was hoping that in the car, with only a coat visible, Gabby didn’t look too much like a bride…

It wasn’t that he wanted to hide their arrangement, exactly, but he did want a few minutes with Gabby alone to adjust, at least. They didn’t have their story straight yet, and Grace and Gabby were good friends. What they decided to tell people was going to matter, big-time.

The ranch manager’s house was a small affair with two floors, and it was located on the other side of the bunkhouse and canteen. The last woman to share this house with him had been Bonnie. Pregnant Bonnie, always knocking water glasses and towels off the counter with her belly. It drove her crazy, and the memory brought back the sad ache. They’d set up a nursery together, all decorated in yellow and green because they’d wanted to be surprised about the baby’s gender. When Bonnie and little Hazel Marie hadn’t come home with him, he’d shut the door on that nursery and hadn’t gone inside again.

Seth parked in his regular spot and waited for Gabby to park next to him. The next few minutes were spent getting the babies out of her car and unloading a few necessities. They carried the car seats into the kitchen, and he glanced back at Gabby to see her appraising the place.

“Grace saw you coming here,” Seth said. “How long until she drops by?”

“She texted me already.” Gabby lifted her cell phone with a small smile. “I told her I’d give her a call later on, but I can’t tell her until I’ve told my mom. You and Billy are pretty good friends. He’ll require some explanations, too.”

“Yeah.” Seth shrugged. “This is just the start.”

Gabby bent down to uncover the babies, and she smiled down at them. All three were sleeping. Right now, the least of his worries should be the explanations. He now had three infants in his home—and their mother.

“I’ve got two bedrooms upstairs,” Seth said. “I thought you might be okay sharing with the babies.”

He hadn’t shown her the upstairs when he brought her here for dinner a week ago and they’d come up with this idea. That had still felt like private space.

“Sure, that works.” Gabby nodded. “I need to be close by for those feedings, after all. Every two hours. Did I mention that?”

“Yeah, I think you did.” Energetic, fun-loving, free-spirited Gabby was a mom on bottle duty all night. Hadn’t she sworn she didn’t want kids once upon a time? Kids are great, so long as they belong to someone else. You and Bonnie should have ten, Seth. Now she was the mom, and his daughter was gone.

“Let me take that,” he said, removing the bouquet from her shoulder bag. He retrieved a vase from the cupboard under the sink and filled it with water. He used to do this for Bonnie when he brought her flowers. Every two weeks. That was one of the things a book advised about keeping a marriage strong—regular flowers. And he’d always been particular about maintaining his marriage. Thing was, marriage was a whole lot more complicated than he’d anticipated, and flowers every two weeks weren’t quite the magic answer he’d hoped for.

Seth put the bouquet into the vase and slid it onto the table. It felt right, having flowers in here again. And it also felt like a bit of a betrayal to Bonnie, too.

One of the babies opened his eyes and let out a whimper.

“It’s about that time.” Gabby reached for the diaper bag that sat next to the car seats. “Why don’t we feed them first, then get settled?”

She was already adjusting to the space, and Gabby hoisted the bag to the counter next to the fridge and pushed aside a fruit bowl. It shouldn’t irritate him—she lived here now, after all, but Seth liked things to stay the same, even if that was unrealistic. He and Bonnie had always had the fruit bowl just there because Seth would reach over from his spot at the kitchen table and grab a banana. His attachment to a fruit bowl’s position had nothing to do with being picky. It was linked to his grief. And maybe his irrational guilt over arranging Gabby’s flowers like that…

Gabby took out a can of formula powder, then went to the sink. In a few minutes she’d shaken up three bottles, then caught his gaze lingering on her. “What?”

He’d rather not start out with an argument. And he’d be wrong—it was only a fruit bowl.

“Nothing. Which baby do I feed?” he asked. This had been his idea, and he’d just have to get used to Gabby’s touch about the place. Still… He moved the baby bag and slid the fruit bowl back into its rightful place. There. That felt better.

Gabby unbuckled the first baby and scooped him up. She planted a kiss on his forehead, and the infant’s eyes opened and gazed up at her.

“This is Aiden,” she said. “You’ll know him because he’s a little bit smaller.”

She passed him to Seth, and he reached out awkwardly, his fingers splayed. It took a moment of careful adjustment to get the baby into his arms. The little guy barely weighed anything. His heart clenched, and he swallowed back a lump in his throat. He’d imagined doing this with his own daughter a thousand times before she was born, and he’d never gotten the chance.

“Hi, there…” Seth said, looking down into the squished little face. Aiden opened his eyes again and his mouth opened into a tiny O, nudging toward Seth’s shirt, a baby’s instinct for milk. It took him a few tries to get the bottle’s nipple into Aiden’s mouth, but once he did, the baby set to sucking.

“There,” Seth said, and he felt a rush of unexpected satisfaction.

Gabby was cuddling another baby close as he slurped hungrily at a bottle. With a foot, she rocked the third car seat.

“This here is Andy,” she said, looking down at the infant she was feeding. “Beau might hate a wet diaper, but he’s a little more patient for his bottle.”

Aiden stretched out a tiny arm—remarkably strong for such a little fellow. Their marriage might be a unique arrangement, but part of Seth’s willingness to help her had been because of these babies, and he looked down at the infant in wonder.

“I’ve fed calves, and a couple of newborn goats, but I’ve never fed a baby before,” he admitted.

“No?” Gabby wrinkled her nose. “Are you serious? I thought you used to babysit your cousins.”

“They weren’t babies,” he said, casting her an incredulous look. “And Ian is only four years younger than me. His sister was like five at the time. So they all fed themselves pretty efficiently.”

“Right. You just seem so much older than him.”

“Thanks.” He rolled his eyes.

“You know what I mean—you’re more mature. He’s always been a perpetual boy. I mean, he’s fun, don’t get me wrong, but…”

She was right about that. And Gabby would know—she’d dated Ian for a few months. In her defense, there weren’t a lot of single guys to choose from in Eagle’s Rest.

They were silent for a few beats, and Seth sobered, adjusting the baby in his arms.

“I was all set to figure out bottle feeding with my daughter,” he said quietly. “I never got the chance.”

When Seth looked over at her, he saw her eyes misting. She lifted her gaze to meet his, and her chin trembled ever so slightly. It was the mom in her reacting.

“I can’t imagine losing a child, Seth,” she said softly. “That’s a heartbreak I don’t think you’d ever recover from.”

“Yeah, it’s bad.”

Understatement of the year. Losing his wife was one kind of grief, but losing his infant daughter was another. It was an aching emptiness—a loss of a hundred things he’d never gotten to try. A pregnancy was different from a baby for the father, and while he’d felt his child squirm in Bonnie’s belly, he’d known that meeting the baby would make it all concrete. He’d be a dad in earnest then. When the doctors put her in his arms, she had suddenly become real…and so had the depth of his loss. All in that one moment. Because little Hazel Marie hadn’t survived the delivery, and his hello and goodbye had to happen all at once. He realized then it wasn’t the length of a life, but the depth of it, and his tiny daughter had sunk down into his soul.

He didn’t know how to put all those feelings into words, and he’d never tried. He’d just covered the pain over as best he could with work and keeping busy. People had expressed sympathy, and Billy had spent quite a few evenings in this house, sharing beer and some companionable silence. It had helped more than Billy probably knew. A few aunts had brought casseroles, but mostly he just sank back down into a bachelor’s life—meals for one and a whole lot of working. There was enough to do on a ranch that he could go day and night if he wanted to. And sometimes he did.

Aiden finished the bottle, and Seth put it on the counter.

“You’ll need to burp him,” Gabby said, putting her own bottle down and tipping Andy up to her shoulder. “Like this. Just pop him up there and pat his back a little bit. Aiden’s a gassy one. He’ll burp twice.”

Just pop him up there… That was easier said than done. The baby was so small that Seth was scared of hurting him. He managed to get his hand under Aiden’s head and when he tipped him up onto his shoulder, the tiny head tipped forward, too. Seth felt his gut drop. But then Aiden lifted his head and settled it down again in a more comfortable position, and there was a surge of relief.

“Okay, buddy,” Seth said softly, and he gently tapped the tiny back the way Gabby was doing with his brother. Almost immediately, there was a resounding belch.

“Wow,” Gabby chuckled. “Keep that up. He’ll do it again.”

Seth continued the soft tapping as he watched Gabby finish burping Andy. She put him back in his car seat and scooped up Beau.

“You’ve been so good, Beau,” she crooned, tucking him into the crook of her arm. “Are you a hungry boy?”

Her voice was different when she talked to her children—softer, sweeter, more intimate somehow.

Aiden lifted his head again, and then he burped again, this time leaving a dribble of milk to soak into Seth’s shirt.

“Sorry,” Gabby said with a wince.

“No problem.”

“You don’t have to help with baby stuff, you know,” she said. “Just having us here is enough.”

“If you don’t want me to—” he started, then breathed a sigh. “Thing is, Gabs, I kind of want to. If I’m going to be your husband, I guess that makes me a dad to them…sort of. Right?”

“Do you want to be?” Gabby eyed him, and he couldn’t tell what she was feeling. But she was waiting for his answer, all of her body tensed. He’d learned a few things in his first marriage, like never to assume he knew what a woman was feeling. Honesty was probably the best call right now.

“Am I allowed to be a dad to them?” he asked cautiously.

“How long-term is this?” she asked.

“Uh…” He smiled hesitantly. “As long as we want it to be.”

“That’s not an answer, though.”

“I’m assuming we’re going to keep this going for as long as the boys need the insurance,” he said. “That’s on a purely practical level. As friends, though, we can stay married for the rest of our lives, if it suits us.”

“If it suits us…” She sucked in a breath. “Kids needs stability.”

“Yeah, I get it,” he said with a quick nod. And emotional connection and passionate promises gave at least the impression of stability. But he and Gabby weren’t there; they weren’t promising undying passion for a lifetime.

“I did grow up with a really great godfather,” Gabby said. “You know how much Uncle Ted meant to me. I was thinking maybe you could be like him… That way, if we do decide to end this after a while, it won’t be as traumatic for the boys, and you could stay in their lives in a meaningful way.”

Uncle Ted. That had been a weird setup with Gabby’s family—not that Seth had told her his real feelings there. Godparents mattered a lot in her family—more than in his, that was for sure.

“Okay, well…so I’ll be a godfather kind of figure. And I can help out with the bottles and stuff.”

When they got older he could teach them to ride a horse, and to fix a truck, and to use their manners. Maybe she was right, and being a godfather would be a longer-lasting relationship than a stepdad.

“Okay…” Gabby’s voice softened, and she met his gaze with a gentle smile. “We’ll just learn as we go.”

That seemed to be parenting in a nutshell, really—learning as you went along. Billy’s daughter had been dropped on his doorstep, and he came back to Eagle’s Rest to raise her before Seth and Bonnie had started trying for a baby. Watching his old friend adjust to fatherhood had taught him a thing or two—namely, that a whole lot of love made up for whatever limitations a dad might have. If Seth had had the chance to raise his own daughter, he’d have bumbled along, he was sure, but the chance to bumble and mess up and fix stuff—that was more precious than most people realized.

When the babies were fed, Gabby changed diapers again. Seth stood back and let her do that one on her own. He was easing into this, and a bottle was enough to stretch his skill set right now.

“I guess I should show you your room,” Seth said, when the babies were dressed once more.

“That would be great. They normally sleep after a bottle,” Gabby replied. “I’ve got the collapsible playpen in your truck—”

“There’s a crib,” he said, and he swallowed against a lump in his throat.

“Oh…” Understanding registered in her eyes. “Hazel’s?”

He nodded. “If that’s okay.”

“It’s perfect,” she said. “They’re small enough we can lay them down sidelong and they can all sleep together. For now, at least. That’s how they sleep in the playpen, anyway.”

Hazel’s crib… He hadn’t looked at it in a long time, and his chest tightened at the thought of it being put to use after all this time. But these boys needed a home and a bed, and it was better to have that nursery used than to leave it empty of life and filled with grief.

Seth cleared his throat. “Should I carry one of the babies?”

“Please. Here’s Beau.”

She passed the infant into his arms, and Seth looked down at the tiny face of yet a different boy who needed him. Seth was a dad. Sort of. That was how he was seeing himself right now. He might not be biologically linked, but he was here…and he was married to their mother. He gave the baby a little pat on the rump.

“Hey, Beau,” he murmured.

Beau was sleeping, pale eyelashes brushing his cheeks. Seth waited until Gabby had the remaining two babies in her arms, and then he led the way up the creaking stairs to the second floor.

“That’s my bedroom,” he said, nodding toward the closed door. “And this is…yours.”

It was hard to say that Hazel’s room belonged to Gabby and her sons now, but he opened the other door to reveal the nursery. It was spacious and bright, and there was a double bed pushed against the far wall. He’d come through the room and dusted all the surfaces, did some sweeping and generally tried to make it hospitable before he left to get married. Originally, this used to be the guest room, and he and Bonnie never did move that bed out. They’d figured it might be useful for feedings or something. But Gabby could use that bed, and the babies would share the crib until they could squeeze in another couple cribs.

Gabby stepped into the room ahead of him and looked around.

“It’s beautiful,” she said. “So bright. I love it.”

He’d always liked that room, too, and he stepped forward to lower the side of the crib one-handed so she could put the babies into it. It took him a moment of fiddling—he wasn’t used to actually using any of this stuff, but before Hazel was born he’d familiarized himself with it all. He was nothing if not prepared—his life motto, for all it had worked out.

Gabby laid the boys carefully on the yellow-sheeted mattress. Andy stretched out tiny limbs and Aiden exhaled a comfortable sigh. Gabby took Beau from his arms and laid him next to his brothers. Beau and Aiden turned toward each other.

“They always do that,” Gabby whispered.

“I wonder why,” Seth said.

“They shared a womb.” Gabby shrugged. “They all did. I’m sure their relationship—the three of them—will be one we’ll never fully understand.”

“Yeah.”

We. That was the word she’d chosen, and it felt awkwardly endearing to be included like that. We.

Seth glanced around the nursery—at the owl decals on the walls, the rocking chair in the far corner holding a pile of knitted blankets he’d never actually put away—and he realized that it didn’t feel quite so sad anymore. It wasn’t that Hazel’s memory was gone from this room exactly, but perhaps her memory had some company in the form of triplet boys.

CHAPTER THREE

GABBY CHANGED OUT of her wedding dress and into a pair of jeans and a sweater. That felt better—more like herself. She went downstairs and helped Seth unload the last of the baby supplies from the back of the pickup and brought them into the house. Next, Seth emptied a couple cupboards for her, and over the next hour, Gabby went up and down the stairs at least ten times carrying things to the nursery and taking a peek at the sleeping infants.

Seth was stomping around, not looking exactly welcoming. Three times now, Gabby had put something down and he’d moved it—a bag of baby clothes, containers of formula, her purse…and she was a little worried that he wouldn’t be as able to adjust to her being around here as he claimed. It might be easier to have him out of the house for a while. When he came back, he could reel under the shock all at once.

“You have the week off, right?” Gabby asked as she sank down into a kitchen chair.

“Yep,” he said. “I haven’t taken my vacation time in a while, so Mr. Ross was glad to give it to me.”

So much for having him out from underfoot. It felt different now—it wasn’t the same as before.

“You’re definitely uncomfortable,” she said with a small smile. Might as well face this head-on.

Seth cleared his throat. “I’m used to facing marriage a little differently than this.”

“I know…”

“I mean, my parents had that vicious divorce when I was twelve, so Bonnie and I—” He swallowed. “We really took our marriage seriously. It was top priority. We read marriage books and had our own plan that was supposed to keep us divorce-proof, and now…” He met her gaze. “I’m not sure how to do a marriage like ours. You know?”

“We said this was going to be pragmatic,” she said.

“And it is,” he agreed. “I honestly think this is smart, but I’m not sure how to do this now that we’re…home. There aren’t a lot of books on how to make a practical marriage work.”

Right. Seth and his love of research.

“We should probably talk about money,” she suggested. “You know, now—before there’s any resentment.”

“Probably,” he agreed.

“Obviously, I’ve got to contribute,” she said. “I could get my aunt to watch the boys while I work part-time somewhere. With them so young, it would be hard to do more than part-time, but—”

“No.” His tone was closer to a growl, and she stopped, surprised.

“No, what?” she asked.

“No, you don’t have to work. Three newborns are enough on your plate, and I didn’t do this expecting you to pay me back.”

“Yes, but I still need to contribute,” she countered. “Realistically speaking—”

“How about…” he interrupted, and she saw the discomfort on his face. “With some cooking and stuff?”

“Are you asking me to be a housewife?” she asked, expecting to laugh when he did.

“Yes?” He smiled bashfully. “I know this marriage is a practical one, but it’s been a hell of a long time since I’ve come home to a hot meal.”

“A housewife…” She rolled that thought around in her mind, and found that it felt rather nice at the moment. She could spend her days raising her boys and taking care of this farmhouse…

“I’m not sure you’d actually like that,” she countered. “I’d change things.”

“Hmm.” It sounded more like a grunt, and when she searched his face for a reaction, all she saw was granite. He was hiding his feelings from her—something she’d never cared too much about before, but it wouldn’t make living together easy if she couldn’t read him.

“I’d rearrange stuff,” she pressed on. “I’d cook food that I like, and I’d probably want to paint some walls, or plant a garden, or—or…” She cast about, searching for the sorts of things that would occur to her, and she’d be halfway through before Seth even got to voice an opinion. “I might want to decorate for the holidays.”

“Not yet,” he said with a sigh. “No painting. No rearranging. I like things the way they are. Just for now. For a while.”

So she was a houseguest, not a housewife. Good to know. He met her gaze with a hesitant smile. The sparkle in his eye made her breath catch ever so slightly, though, and she broke eye contact.

“Hey, we’re making some ground rules here,” he went on. “So if you’ve got something that’s nonnegotiable, now’s the time to put it out there.”

“Okay,” she said. “I’m not waiting on you hand and foot. That’s something I won’t budge on. I’m technically your wife, but I’m not your servant.”

Seth grinned. “I never thought that was an option, Gabs.”

“No slipper-fetching or reverence in your presence,” she said, only halfway joking. “I’m not standing by with a plate of food warmed in the oven. So if that was in the back of your mind, you might want to encourage me to find a job to contribute financially.”

“Gabby.” He reached across the table and grabbed her hand. His dark gaze met hers and pinned her to the spot. She could make out the sandpaper of his stubble across his chin, and the few gray hairs that had worked their way into his beard. His hand moved slowly around her palm as if he didn’t even realize how he was touching her—an absentminded kind of caress from a man who’d been married before. “You aren’t that good of a cook.”

That broke the moment, and she pulled her hand back with a laugh. “I’m better than nothing, you lout.”

Seth seemed to realize how he’d touched her, and he closed his fingers into a fist, flattening his lips. “I’m just saying. We can make this work, but don’t stress about me expecting you to be a servant. You know me.”

Gabby did know him, but she’d never been married to him before. And when he was married, Bonnie had kept Gabby at a good distance. She hadn’t seen too much of them. Maybe Gabby was worrying for nothing. He was offering a great deal here, and he’d already made it possible for her to feed her boys without worry. Now he was letting her raise them without worry, too. Maybe she felt a little guilty for all she was getting from this deal. She could do something in return, and maybe she wasn’t entirely closed to the idea of keeping some food warm for him in the oven…

“I’ll probably be cleaning up and stuff while you’re working,” she said. “Anything you don’t want me to touch—like at all?”

“My bedroom.”

There was a finality in his tone that sobered her, and she nodded quickly. He was giving her access to the house, but not to his private space. It was fair, but it also drew a solid line.

“Okay,” she said quietly. “I leave your bedroom alone. And I won’t change too much around here. I’m just warning you. I’m here. I’ll…leave a mark, I guess.”

“Yeah,” he said, his gaze meeting hers again. “You’re right. Look, I know you’ll change a few things. I’m sure it’ll be fine. I’ll adjust.”

It was good to talk this stuff out. They had a friendship worth protecting, and marriage was going to complicate that.

“We have about an hour before the babies wake,” Gabby said. “Want to watch TV?”

Seth shrugged. “Sure. Why not.”