Tina Leonard - Triplets' Rodeo Man (13 page)

He pushed his hat down low over his eyes. It hurt to know that his children wouldn't have a traditional family. Though his parents hadn't stayed together, they'd started out as a family and he remembered that it was later, when his mother had left, that his father had changed, turning into a sour, angry man.

It was important to have both parents around. He didn't like Cricket's plan, not one bit, but she was a stubborn girl, and he had lots of experience with stubborn. He had a father who was, and a mother who was, and brothers who knew something about stubborn and Templar knights living in his ranch house who'd stubbornly decided they were part and parcel of Josiah's legacy. Truly, Jack wasn't afraid of stubborn.

He'd just wait his deacon out. He would out-stubborn them all.

A father had to be strong. Now he understood Josiah, and loved him more for what he'd taught him about
being a real father. Over the years, people—even Jack—had said that Josiah Morgan was a jackass. But now Jack knew that Josiah had simply been strong.

Cricket knew that she loved Jack. She always had. But right now, while she was being prepped for surgery, she wished she hadn't asked him to come.

She had never seen him nervous. She'd seen him hanging on to a wildly charging bull with a grin on his face. She'd seen him face down an angry father, a possible kidney operation, all with not a trace of fear or anxiety.

Right now, Jack Morgan was more nervous than she was. He was trying hard not to be; he was working hard at being a good coach, a soothing presence.

But she could feel how tense he was. He kept swallowing, his Adam's apple jerking uncomfortably. An active man, Jack never liked to be still, but the kindest description of what he was trying hard not to do was pace. The very fact that he was trying to stay in one place was unsettling—she would far rather he pace and let loose some of his nerves.

He gave her a weak smile and Cricket sighed. “It's going to be fine, Jack,” she told him.

“Darn tootin' it's going to be fine,” he said. “I've already given the doctor her pep talk.”

“Pep talk?”

“Yes.” He nodded adamantly. “She is not to hurt you. You are not to feel any pain. She's not to drop my children, nor traumatize them in any way. I want everything soft and comforting for everyone.” He took a deep breath, passed a handkerchief over his brow. “This is hard work.”

She smiled. “Why don't you go get a cup of coffee.” She thought something more fortifying would be even better but didn't dare suggest that to him. Perhaps if he just left for a bit, the surgery would be over and he'd be a new father.

“No,” Jack said. “The doctor says I'm doing fine.”

Cricket smiled. “Dr. Suzanne has the patience of Job.”

“Yes, well, she said that if I get any more nervous, she's going to have a pretty nurse give me a sedative in my riding cushions and I'll miss all the fun.” He looked aggrieved. “I'm not nervous. I can't understand what she's referring to.”

Cricket couldn't help her broad smile. “I like you like this.”

“Like what?”

“With emotions.” She looked at him. “You always seemed so coldhearted before.”

“I was never coldhearted to you, Deacon.”

“I don't know,” she said softly. “I never felt like you could give your heart completely to anyone or anything.
Then I saw you trying to help Josiah, and I began to think there was more to you than just pride.”

“I think I'm about to break a sweat, and all this talk of being coldhearted makes me want to show you just how hot I am for you.”

“Oh,” she said, “not with me wearing this silly hair covering and big as a house.”

“Especially with you wearing that green hair covering and even bigger than a house.”

“Jack!”

Dr. Suzanne laughed as she came to stand beside them. “I heard that, Mr. Morgan. You're supposed to reassure my patient, not give her a complex.”

“I can't give her a complex,” Jack grumbled. “She had plenty of those before I came along. I'm just trying to work them out of her.”

“Is that true, Cricket?” Dr. Suzanne asked with a smile.

“It's a strange form of seduction, Dr. Suzanne, but I suppose I had to choose a wild one to father my children.”

“All right, Dad,” Dr. Suzanne said, “stand to the side of Cricket, please. Let's find out if you're as good at birth coaching as you are at rodeo.”

“Yeesh,” Jack said, grabbing Cricket's hand, determined to be supportive. “I heard you tell my father that I was only fair at rodeo.”

“It was best he know the truth,” Cricket said sweetly.

“I see how this relationship goes,” Dr. Suzanne said. “You two are in the early ‘in-love' phase. It's a fun time. My husband and I remember it fondly.” She smiled as she teased them.

Jack raised a brow. “Early love? Cricket's never said she loved me. Do you know something I don't?”

Dr. Suzanne laughed. “Not me. I'm just the obstetrician. Okay, Cricket, are you ready for the biggest moment of your life?”

Cricket glanced at Jack for the quickest fraction of a second and thought,
He's the biggest moment of my life
.

Of course, she would never tell him that. She was pretty certain that the key to a heart as wild as Jack's was to always be free to ride off into the sunset, wherever the sun set next. What would he say if she said,
Yes, Jack, I'll marry you
?

He'd be happy at first—that was the nature of a competitor. After a while, the bonds of matrimony would begin to chafe. And then what? Would they end up like Gisella and Josiah, who were only now learning to be friends?

 

T
HE MOST WONDERFUL
moment of Jack's life, absolutely awe-inspiring and scary as hell, was when Dr. Suzanne placed his firstborn child in his arms. It was a girl with a perfectly round head and sweet lips, crying like nobody's business, and he couldn't believe anything so tiny could contain such a set of lungs. “Hey,” he told the baby, “simmer down now. I've got you, little thing.”

A nurse standing near him chuckled. “Babies cry when they're born. We grade them on it.”

“Oh,” he told the baby. “I think you're passing with flying colors.”

The nurse took the baby from him, though he wasn't ready to let go of his daughter. Another nurse placed a second baby in his arms, this one also a daughter. Her head wasn't quite so round, but she had a light dusting of hair and a softer cry. “This one's not yelling as much,” he told the nurse. “Didn't you say you were grading them?”

“Yes,” the nurse said. “All babies are assigned a number.”

“Hey,” he told the baby. “Don't be a B student. Give us a good wail.”

“No,” the nurse said, laughing. “She's fine. Just fine.”

“Whew,” Dr. Suzanne said. “Mr. Morgan, you have two healthy infants.”

“Two?” His head reared up. “I'm supposed to have three healthy infants.”

“And so you do.” The last baby was handed to him a few moments later, a nice, barrel-chested son, who was louder than both his sisters. Jack grinned. “This one's an A student,” he said, his heart full to bursting. “Cricket, all these children take after you.”

“I doubt anyone has ever told the deacon she's loud,” Dr. Suzanne said. She looked at Cricket. “You did fine. How are you feeling?”

“I feel excited. Happy. Tired,” Cricket said. “But mostly, I feel like holding my children.”

Jack watched as each baby was given to Cricket. He watched mother and children bond in that special way that mothers can with their babies, and he realized that
good mothers just simply had that connection. His heart full of understanding now for the pain that Gisella must have felt during her long years away, he resolved to be more understanding of his mother.

“Cricket,” he said, going to her side, “you really are the most beautiful woman I've ever known. It's just in you, all the beauty a man looks for in a woman.”

“Why, Jack,” Cricket said, “whatever has gotten into you?”

He looked at his children squalling red-faced and adorable around their mother. “You,” he said, “I think it's you.”

“Are there names for the children?” a nurse asked.

Jack looked at Cricket. “Are there names for the children?”

Cricket said, “We haven't discussed names yet, but I have suggestions.”

“Good,” Jack said, “because they're not leaving this room as Baby Morgan A, B and C.”

Cricket hesitated, frowned at Jack. He sensed he'd stepped in trouble again. “What?”

“Jasper,” she said.

He blinked. “Jasper?”

“That's my last name.”

He got it. “Oh, no,” he said. “No, see, I'm a traditional guy. We may not be married, but we will be. And those children will bear the name of their father from day one. They're not going to be asked embarrassing questions on the playground like,
Where's your father?
and
Who's your daddy?
and
Why didn't your father love
your mother enough to marry her?
No!” he said loudly, shaking his head. “Deacon, here's where I draw the line with my size-eleven boot. I've been asking for months. You're the one who's stubborn as a mule, but you're not going to saddle our babies with a lifetime of laughter and finger-pointing. Trust me, I know all about the questions kids ask other kids, and I'm very sensitive to this. You can pick the first names and the middle names—hell, pick all the names you want, but I've picked the last name and these children are all Morgans. Write it on the charts, Nurse. M-O-R-G-A-N, just like the horses.”

Everyone, including Dr. Suzanne, stopped to stare at Jack. Cricket studied him for a long moment, then sighed. “All right,” she said. “Gisella Eileen, Jonathan Josiah and Katie Rose.”

“Morgan,”
Jack said.

“Morgan,” Cricket echoed.

“Where does the Katie Rose come in?” Jack asked.

“My name is Katherine. Cricket is a nickname.”

“I never knew that.” Jack looked at her. “I like Katie. What about Rose?”

“I just like it,” she said, lifting her chin.

“I don't know if I want my son named after me,” Jack said. “And Pop's already got one namesake, thanks to Pete and Priscilla.”

“If we're going traditional, let's do it all the way,” Cricket said.

“The kids will call him JJ,” Jack said.

“They didn't call you that.”

He looked at her. “No, I've always been Jack.”

Cricket closed her eyes, looking tired for the first time. Dr. Suzanne finished examining her stitches and said, “Now that we've got that solved, let's let everyone get some rest.”

“That sounds good to me,” Jack said, “Cricket, can I get you something?”

“Yes,” she said, sounding sleepy, “a wedding ring.”

Jack glanced at Dr. Suzanne. “Did she say what I thought she said?”

A nurse checked Cricket's pulse. Dr. Suzanne stepped close to the bed. The babies were taken away, wheeled down to the nursery in their plastic bassinets. Jack had been relieved that they hadn't seemed to require any type of serious extra care.

“Cricket,” Dr. Suzanne said, “did you say you needed something?”

Cricket opened her eyes for a second. “I think sleep will do me just fine, Doctor, thank you.”

Dr. Suzanne shrugged at Jack. “We'll take her to her room now.”

Jack nodded, let down like all get out.

“Congratulations, Mr. Morgan,” Dr. Suzanne said. “Three healthy babies is a lot to be thankful for.”

“Yes,” he said, wishing that Cricket really did want the one thing he didn't seem to be able to give her.

When Cricket awakened, Jack wasn't in the hospital room like she thought he'd be. The nurse saw her anxious look.

“Dad's down at the nursery,” she said with a smile, and Cricket relaxed. She couldn't explain it, but his face was the one she'd wanted to see when she woke up. She wanted to see her babies, too, but she had an overwhelming need to see Jack.

It was almost as if she was afraid that he might leave and not come back to see her. She knew he would always want to see his children. He talked a lot about wanting to marry her and she'd always pushed that suggestion away, fearing that he'd tire of her once his wanderlust took over again—and then something had told her that she was the one doing the damage by being nervous about the same thing his father had been nervous about. There was no reason to put distance between herself and Jack because of rodeo. Rodeo was the symbol of a way of life Jack loved—he'd never said he planned to give
it up, and he'd never said he loved her. Not in so many words, but he had offered her a commitment. And one thing she'd realized someplace between the amazing birth of her children and the joy that they had all come through the experience just fine was that Morgan men stayed committed to their women. Even now, though years had passed between Josiah and Gisella's marriage, Josiah was still committed to Gisella's well-being.

She had nothing to fear from Jack. No matter what happened between them, he was never going to ride off into the sunset and forget about her.

Perhaps she'd worried knowing about the animosity between father and son. But that had been smoothed over, perhaps even more than just a leveling of old anger. Sometimes she thought she sensed genuine affection growing between the two. Even with his mother, Jack seemed to be making an effort to reestablish their relationship, something that had to be hard after so many years apart.

He didn't even seem that concerned that her brother had taken a shot at him. She was more angry with Thad than Jack. Jack had shrugged it off. Her parents had given him a rather reserved welcome, and Jack hadn't opposed her naming one of the children after her mother.

Contrary to everything she'd ever known or heard about Jack, he didn't seem to hold a grudge past the point of necessity. Affection and responsibility for his family appeared to come more easily to him than anyone—and maybe even Jack—had ever thought it would.

Time would tell.

Of course, she didn't have much time. She hadn't told Jack this yet, but her parents and Thad had offered to take over her tea shop and run it themselves. They had a hankering for a family business, and a sweet tooth that wanted to see the tea shop stay operating. With three newborns in Cricket's life, they worried she wouldn't have the time or energy to run the shop. This solution would keep her business in the family, and it would allow her to move to Union Junction, which, as they pointed out, she might have to do at some point for the sake of the children. Cricket would even make money monthly, as her family intended to divide the business in quarters. It was a sound idea, and it left Cricket with no financial reason to stay in Fort Wylie.

But she knew she couldn't pack up and follow a certain rodeo man without a plan, either.

 

J
ACK KNEW
the cavalry had arrived by the sound of many voices raised with anxious delight. Voices that he recognized, knew and loved well, made his heart expand. His family was on the premises, heading straight for the nursery. A large group of people rounded the corner, every member accounted for except Josiah.

“Jack!” Laura, Priscilla and Suzy exclaimed, rushing to hug him.

“Show us our new family members,” Laura told him, and with the proudest grin he'd ever worn, Jack pointed through the glass.

“Ah,” Gisella said, “two girls and a boy!”

“One named after you, Gisella,” Sara said. “If Josiah could see them, he'd be so proud.” She began taking pictures on her camera phone, despite the glass. “Josiah's on pins and needles to see pictures,” she told Jack. “It was all I could do to make him stay home and rest.”

“How's Pop doing?”

Sara and Gisella smiled. “He's antsy,” Sara said. “But when the children come to visit, he's much better.”

Pete, Gabe and Dane came to shake his hand. “Good going,” Dane said as Pete helped lift some of the Morgan brood to the window to see their new cousins.

“Thanks,” Jack said. “But I didn't do any of the work.”

Gabe laughed. “You did
something
.”

“Three babies,” Gabe said. “Who would have ever thought Jack Morgan would be a father to three?”

“Not me,” Jack said. “I'm still in shock.”

“But they're the most beautiful babies you ever saw, right?” Pete asked.

Jack grinned. “How did you know?”

“I just did,” Pete said. “How's Cricket? And when are you going to get her to Union Junction?”

“That I don't know,” Jack said. “Maybe never. But she was amazing. She made the whole thing look easy.” Jack was pretty sure he could never carry children and then birth them—it was pretty good being the dad and watching everything from a few feet away. “The doctor says Cricket can go home in a few days.”

“Home to FortWylie?” Gabe asked, and Jack nodded.

“I think that's going to be our home.”

“Well,” Pete said. “It'll only cost you a million dollars. Pop will say you were always the black sheep or some nonsense. He did mutter that you were the only one of his children who had his babies born outside of Union Junction.”

Jack scratched his head as he listened to the women coo over the babies. He stared through the window at his progeny, loving the sight of tiny fingers and faces. He'd never planned this moment in his life; never thought he'd have kids. “Baby steps,” he murmured. “Tell Pop to relax. I'm just taking baby steps.”

Pete clapped him on the back. “That's right. Just enjoy the moment. Being a dad is the best.”

Jack nodded, agreeing. But being a dad and a husband would be better. He intended not to let Josiah's warning about never getting a woman to the altar after the babies were born come true.

“Hello!” Jack heard, turning to see Thad and Cricket's parents arriving for their first peek at the babies.

“Aren't they beautiful—” Eileen exclaimed, giving Jack a brief hug. Reed shook his hand more awkwardly, and Thad hung back just a split second before offering his hand as well. Jack performed the niceties, introducing Cricket's parents to his huge family, and then some strained silence ensued.

Then Gisella said, “These babies are so lucky to have so many people who want to hold them!” and that seemed to melt the ice a little. Although Jack wondered if it would have thawed at all if Josiah had been there.

Josiah wasn't going to think much about Cricket
and Jack living in Fort Wylie, and Jack began to wonder if he could spend much time with these frosty in-laws who clearly wondered what their daughter saw in him.

 

T
HE NEXT FEW DAYS
were spent learning how to bathe the babies, breast-feed the babies and letting Cricket get her strength back. Cricket seemed to take to mothering like a bird to the air, and Jack felt his role was pretty much being a support system.

In fact, he was beginning to feel oddly as if he wasn't of much importance to the parenthood equation. He fetched tasty snacks to tempt Cricket and he held babies, but mostly he was beginning to feel like the human equation of the car hood ornament—just there for show.

Flowers arrived in a steady stream for Cricket and Jack—many from his rodeo friends. His cell phone buzzed with texts keeping him up-to-date on circuit happenings—and on the morning of their last day in the hospital, Jack received a text that caught his interest.

 

The committee has obtained a new sponsorship. This year's top rodeo prize in Lonely Hearts Station will be worth a million dollars!

 

Jack's jaw dropped. That was a lot of dough.

He'd won at the last rodeo in Lonely Hearts Station.

A
million
-dollar purse. The same amount Pop was offering for something Jack wasn't sure he could give. But rodeo was what Jack did best. Bull riding was a piece of cake compared to living with family angst.

“Jack?” Cricket said. “You look like you're deep in thought.”

The babies had been wheeled to the nursery for baths after their feeding. Cricket gazed at him, her pretty eyes sleepy now. She wasn't taking a lot of pain medication, but Dr. Suzanne had warned him that Cricket needed lots of rest.

And he needed to think. “You go to sleep,” Jack told her. “I'm going to head out for a bit. I'll shower at your house, and you get some sleep.”

“All right.” She smiled at him, then closed her eyes.

He looked at Cricket for a long moment before he left, his mind racing.