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“She refused to pay to dance with me.”
Brandon blinked. “I never thought you’d have to pay someone to dance with you.”
Laughing at his brother’s misunderstanding, he explained his idea for raising more money. “But Miss Clark refused to take part.”
Brandon’s eyes flashed amusement. “Sounds like someone’s pride is hurt.” He gave Bo a playful punch on his shoulder. “You’ll get over it.”
Bo grabbed his arm in fake pain. “Ma told you not to hit me.”
The two laughed at the memory of their childhood then parted ways—Brandon to look for a missing mother and Bo to the pie tent.
The two other judges waited impatiently. The church pianist, Constance Hickey, her red hair pulled back so tightly into her bun that her eyes could barely blink, had volunteered for the job. Except volunteered was too mild a word. She insisted that she knew pies like no one else and no contest would be fairly judged without her help. Standing beside her was banker George Henley, who had put up a cash prize for the winner.
One by one, they circled the entries, savoring each sample and rating it according to a complicated system Mrs. Hickey had come up with. Bo forced himself to concentrate on the task. Too many things vied for his thoughts—wondering how Louisa was managing with the babies, hoping that Brandon or Jeb found the missing mother, and overall the sad-happy memories of his mother, who made a pie for the three of them every time Father was away...an occurrence that happened far too seldom.
They narrowed the entries down to six possibilities. Both George and Bo made up their minds but Mrs. Hickey insisted the selection couldn’t be rushed.
“My reputation depends on being one hundred percent sure.”
Bo stuffed back the thought that her reputation stemmed from her propensity for gossip.
Finally she made her decision and the blue, red and yellow ribbons were attached.
Bo raced from the tent before they were done and hurried through the grounds. He found Brandon and Jeb near the front gate. “Find her?” he asked.
“We’ve asked throughout the crowd. No one saw a woman pushing a cart—or rather, many women were seen pushing some kind of conveyance. No one knows of triplets,” Jeb said. “We’d have heard if they were from the community.”
“What are you going to do?” Brandon asked as if finding the babies made them Bo’s responsibility.
“First thing we need to do is get this fair opened and then we need to call an emergency meeting of the league.” He went to the gate and held up his hand to signal he wanted people’s attention. It took a few minutes for the crowd to quiet.
“Welcome to the County Fair. As you all know, it’s to raise funds for the Lone Star Cowboy League, which was originally formed to bring ranchers together to help each other through troubled times. Since then our concerns have grown to include other families struggling to survive the drought. So open your purses wide and spend freely, but most of all, have a good time.” He stepped aside and let the gatekeepers take admission as the crowd filed in.
Bo remained close by, and as the members of the league passed, he informed them of the emergency meeting. “At the office tent in half an hour.”
Having informed all of them, Bo hurried about the grounds. If the mother was sick, where would she go? Somewhere she could rest. Maybe a place she could keep an eye on the babies. He squeezed his hands into fists. Imagine being so desperate you left three babies alone, not knowing when they’d be discovered or by whom. This was one of the reasons they’d started the Lone Star Cowboy League—to prevent people from doing desperate things because of desperate circumstances.
He passed women he didn’t know but they were always accompanied by family. Nowhere he looked did he find a woman alone and ill, and with no more time to search, he hurried to the meeting.
“Fight. Fight.”
Bo heard the chant and groaned. The fair had only begun and already a situation he didn’t care to deal with. He jogged around the corner of the livestock tent housing prize goats and pushed his way through the crowd of young people. He saw the combatants circling each other, fists up and scowls marring their faces. Peter Hill and Jamie Coleman. He should have guessed. The two families had been feuding long before he and Brandon arrived in the area four years ago. He wasn’t sure what the disagreement was about. Wasn’t even sure they knew, though he’d heard muttered words about some valuable family heirloom.
He stepped between the two young men and pressed his hands to the heaving chests. Twenty-year-old Peter Hill likely outweighed his opponent by fifty pounds of grit, muscle and raging anger. Jamie Coleman, a year younger, fair as autumn grass, bounced on the balls of his feet as he waited to get in a jab.
Bo didn’t even bother to ask about the disagreement. This pair found a hundred different reasons to start a fight. Or if not them, a couple of the younger boys. With three Coleman boys and three Hill boys, it seemed there was always a fight. Thankfully the girls resorted to insults and snubs. If there was a way to force the two widowed parents to work out their differences, perhaps the children would stop sparring, as well.
“I don’t want the fair ruined by the lot of you fighting. I want people to have fun and feel safe.” Bo waited until the two eased back before he lowered his hands. “Peter, why don’t you go over to the garden tent and see how your ma fared with her carrots. They looked mighty fine to me.”
Peter scowled at Jamie. “Don’t think this is over.” But he left.
Bo faced Jamie. “Find something else to do besides fight.”
“I didn’t start it.”
“Next time walk away.”
Jamie spun on his heel and did exactly that.
Bo sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. He could do without all these problems. And if he didn’t hurry he was going to be late for the meeting he’d called.
He returned to the main pathway between booths. People came from all over the county to display and sell their wares. He eyed the fine saddles in one booth and promised himself he’d come back for a closer look. Booth after booth revealed the abilities of the Texas people—fancy tooled leather harnesses, fine linen embroidered tablecloths. For a flash he thought of his mother. Wouldn’t she have liked one of those? Across from that booth Mrs. Longfeather showed her turquoise and silver jewelry and other Native crafts.
“The young bucks are restless,” she said in her soft voice.
He understood she referred to Jamie and Peter. “I should have given them a hard task to do so they wouldn’t have time for getting into trouble.”
“Some are born for trouble as the sparks fly upward. Others need the strike of the flint to start a fire.” She paused and studied him with her bottomless black eyes. “Still others turn from the fire, afraid of its burn, at the same time depriving themselves of its warmth.” Her study of him continued. Was she trying to tell him something? But she turned away and arranged a display of jewelry.
Bo hesitated. He wanted to know where she saw the Hills and the Colemans. Where she saw him. Except he didn’t. Like she’d pointed out, some men would deprive themselves of warmth in order to avoid the burn. And why he saw his father in the flames, he could not say. Shaking his head, he hurried on.
Before he arrived at the meeting tent, he stopped to speak to one of the boys he spent time with through the Young Ranchers program they’d started last year. “Would you run to the doctor’s house and ask Miss Clark to bring the babies here?”
The boy looked a little startled, then took off like a shot.
Bo ducked into the tent that served as a temporary office—meant mainly for lost and found children and items, a first-aid station, and to provide information. The members of the league were all there. Abe Sawyer and Gabe Dooley, both ranchers, had joined the original members. Bo glanced about, making eye contact with each of them before he began to speak.
“We have a situation.” He explained about the triplets. “We haven’t been able to find the mother, so in the meantime, we must make arrangements for these babies.”
Every one of them stared at him. He couldn’t say if they were shocked more by the fact of triplets in their midst, that the babies had been abandoned or the thought of asking someone to take on the care of three babies.
Lula May McKay, wife of Edmund, one of the three McKay brothers, and the only woman on the league, was the first to speak. “My heart goes out to this woman. I know what it’s like to feel so desperate.” She’d been a widow with five children to care for when Edmund found her and fell in love with her. He wrapped an arm about her shoulders and pulled her tight to his side. “I was fortunate enough to have Edmund come alongside me. We need to find her and let her know that we will help her.”
There came a murmur of agreement.
Bo nodded. This was what the league stood for...helping those in need.
Brandon had joined the meeting at Bo’s invitation and Brandon stepped forward. “If I may speak?”
The others grew quiet.
“Jeb and I have been asking around to no avail. The mother seems to have disappeared.”
Jeb stepped to Brandon’s side. “It can prove mighty hard to find someone who doesn’t want to be found in a crowd like what’s out there.” He tipped his head and they all nodded, the sounds from outside plenty loud enough to let them know the crowd’s large size.
Blustery Casper Magnuson spoke. “People don’t vanish into thin air. You’re the sheriff. You should be able to find her. Isn’t that what we pay you to do?”
Lula May waited for the protests at Casper’s remark to die down. “Where are the babies now?”
“I left them at the doctor’s to have them checked out.”
David McKay stepped forward to speak. “Are you telling us the babies have something wrong with them? Is that why the mother left them? Three sick babies is a lot of work.”
His sister-in-law chuckled. “Sometimes one child is a lot of work.” That brought gentle laughter from everyone at the reference to eight-year-old Maggie, who kept her father on his toes as he tried to keep her out of mischief.
Casper waved them to silence. “Three sick babies who aren’t even part of our community. I don’t see that we have any responsibility toward them. Send them to the orphanage at New Braunfels.”
All three of the McKay brothers spoke at once, protesting that idea.
The discussion grew louder and more discordant.
Bo tried to get control of the meeting but Casper was not about to be silenced.
The tent flap parted and Louisa pushed the cart full of babies into their midst. Her father followed.
Bo released his pent-up breath, relieved that the doctor had seen the babies. As quickly as it escaped, his breath rushed in and stalled. What if the doctor had bad news about the three little ones?
No one spoke. Even Casper stopped yelling as they all stared at the matching babies.
Whatever Louisa and the doctor had done for them, the babies were no longer crying and sat up in the cart, looking around the circle of strangers. Theo’s bottom lip quivered and tears pooled in his bottom eyelids. Eli stared unblinkingly and Jasper lifted a pudgy little hand as if to say hello.
Lula May was the first to recover. “They’re darling. Oh, Edmund, can we take them home?”
Edmund’s mouth worked but nothing came out. Lula May nudged him. “I’m joshing.” Bo thought she looked dead serious. “Of course we can’t take them. Our hands are full with our own family.”
Doc Clark cleared his throat. “These babies are sick. Nothing serious. Colds and ear infections, but I think it’s best if they stay with us until they’re healthy. That will give me more opportunity to assess their development, though from what I’ve seen, they are sturdy babies. Louisa can look after them.”
Bo watched Louisa for her reaction but her expression gave away nothing. “Are you okay with that, Miss Clark? I seem to recall you mentioning how busy you were.”
She shifted from smiling at the babies to frowning at him. “They need medical attention at the moment.”
He took that as her agreement to keep the babies for as long as they needed medical care and turned back to the others in the room. “We need to come up with a plan for when they’ve recovered.”
Casper crossed his arms to consider Louisa. “You should find yourself a husband. Then you could keep the triplets for good.” He muttered under his breath, “We should find a way to marry the spinster off.” He squinted at Bo. “Seems to me that you and—”
Bo saw the man’s intent and held up his hand to stop him from finishing his troublemaking statement about Bo and Louisa.
But if he thought he needed to protest Casper’s unkind remark about Louisa being a spinster, she soon proved she didn’t need Bo’s defense. She faced Casper with a steady gaze. “Mr. Magnuson, you have a wife and a home. You should keep the babies until their mother is found.”
Casper sputtered, not used to being brought up short. “I have four children. I can’t afford to feed three more mouths.”
“Three babies are too much for one family,” CJ Thorn said. The local rancher and his wife, Molly, raised his brother’s twin daughters as well as their baby son. “It takes a lot of expense and hard work to feed three more mouths, but if we only ask for people to take one baby, it might be manageable.”
Bo observed the three McKay brothers squirm and their faces grow hard as the merits of splitting up the babies were discussed.
David McKay leaped forward. “I strongly oppose having them separated.” He glanced at his brothers. “I know firsthand how painful it is to grow up knowing you have brothers but they aren’t part of your life. It wouldn’t be fair to do that to these little ones.”
The meeting grew quiet at the intensity of his speech.
“We’ll find a way to keep them together,” Lula May said, and it seemed she spoke for the others as no one voiced any disagreement.
“The Cowboy League could provide financial support to any family that takes the babies,” Bo pointed out, and the others nodded.
“That way we can keep them in the community.” CJ Thorn seemed to like the idea.
Bo realized that he and the others had decided the triplets belonged here.
“If Miss Clark can care for them until we find a more permanent arrangement, that would be great,” CJ continued.
“Yes, of course.”
Lula May sidled up to Louisa. “Won’t this mean you’ll miss the fair? I know how much you were looking forward to seeing all the displays.”
She was? Bo thought she had no interest in the activities.
Louisa shrugged and smiled. “Responsibilities before fun. Isn’t that so?”
Lula May lifted one shoulder in resignation. “It often is.”
The babies began to fuss. Louisa turned the cart toward the door. “I’ll take them home and care for them.”
Lula May stopped her. “Do you need help? I could...”
Louisa gave the woman a serene smile. “You stay and enjoy the fair. I can manage them.”
Bo watched her depart. She’d wanted to attend the fair. Had willingly given it up to tend the babies. Somehow that did not fit in with how he had judged her. He shook his head. He did not like being wrong and certainly didn’t like the feeling that he’d been faulty in his assessment.
He took a step after her, intending to follow and apologize. But for what? A wrong opinion?
Instead, he turned his thought back to the fair. Time to see how things were going.
Maybe he’d think of a way to ease his mind about Louisa Clark before the day was done.
Chapter Three (#ulink_aa1ecfa7-3173-5f7f-b2e1-c93a592f6e58)
Louisa rushed home with the babies, her mind whirling as fast and loud as the creaky wheels of the cart. Apart from knowing the triplets were miserable with their colds and sore ears, she savored the idea of three little ones to hold and comfort for a time. It was like having her sister, Amy, back in her care. She smiled. More like three Amys.
The meeting had gone well. She chuckled, causing the babies to look at her in surprise. Jasper grinned and gurgled, his discomfort momentarily forgotten.
She leaned over and whispered, “You want to know why I laughed? Okay, I’ll tell you but you must promise not to repeat it to anyone.” Jasper gurgled happily. Theo sucked his thumb and regarded her solemnly. Eli leaned against his two brothers, content to be with them.
Louisa’s heart expanded with a love so intense that for a moment, she couldn’t find room to fill her lungs. This must be how mothers felt when they saw their offspring. Then she remembered her promise to tell them her secret and she glanced about as if to make sure no one spied on them. “I know I surprised Mr. Bo Stillwater and it felt good. Yes indeed, it did.” How did he feel knowing he’d mistaken her refusal to sign up to dance with him as meaning she didn’t care about the fair? She shrugged. Likely he’d not given it a second thought.
She glanced over her shoulder, a little disappointed she wouldn’t get to attend, then turned back to the three chubby boys. “It’s worth it to be able to play with you for a few days.”
They reached the doctor’s residence and she pushed and lifted the cart up the steps and into the house. “I don’t know where you’re going to sleep. This cart isn’t big enough.” There was a sturdy metal crib in her father’s office but he’d need it if anyone brought in a sick baby. “Are you used to sleeping together?” She looked from one to the other. “You’re not going to tell me? Well, fine. I’ll figure it out myself.”
Theo’s bottom lip quivered. Louisa recognized it as the precursor to his crying. Once he started, all three would cry. “I’ll have something for you to eat in a moment. But please don’t cry. It’s hard on the ears.” She had left oatmeal simmering on the back of the stove and it was now well cooked, suitable for babies. Father suggested they be introduced to foods slowly until it could be determined if they were used to eating solids yet.
