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“And yet I still feel guilty about relying on other people to care for them during so much of the time that they’re awake,” he admitted, adding a couple slices of thick, buttered toast to his plate.
She sat down with her own breakfast. “You’ll feel less guilty when they’re in day care—and less inclined to interrupt your day to check on them.”
“Three days a week,” he decided.
“Four,” she countered, reaching out to snag a couple of pieces of bacon before he emptied the platter.
He scowled. “They’re only ten months old.”
“And I’ll be at the day care every minute that they are,” Bella assured him.
“I don’t know,” he hedged.
She didn’t press any further as she finished her own breakfast, then gave the babies their eggs.
Jamie had just pushed his own plate aside when a brisk knock sounded on the back door, then Fallon O’Reilly walked into the room without waiting for an invitation.
He didn’t mind. Fallon had been a friend of both him and his sister since childhood and one of the first women to volunteer for the baby chain. She was also one of the most regular, and expediency had required that they dispense with the usual protocols months earlier.
“Good morning,” Fallon greeted Jamie and Bella, her tone and her smile confirming that she believed it to be true. Then she turned to the babies, lavishly kissing each of their cheeks, making them giggle.
The sound filled his heart with joy and he looked at Fallon with sincere gratitude. She was so great with the babies—so natural and easy. She seemed to love them as he’d hoped their mother would have done, but Paula had never had the chance to be the mother he’d believed she could be—dying only hours after their babies were born by emergency C-section.
“I brought blueberry muffins.” Fallon set a plastic container in the middle of the table, then moved across the kitchen to retrieve a mug from the cupboard. She brought it and the carafe to the table, offering refills to Jamie and Bella.
But Bella shook her head. “I should be getting into work.”
Jamie picked up his mug and stood. “And I need to get out to the barn and check on Daisy. Brooks said she could foal any day now.”
Fallon frowned at both of them. “Why are you racing off? It’s barely seven-thirty.”
“Hudson wants to expand Just Us Kids to offer a newborn group and I promised to help him review the applications and set up the interviews,” Bella told her.
“And I’ve already had breakfast,” Jamie said.
Fallon looked from sister to brother and back again, her eyes narrowing. “This is about the coffee cake I made for the Fourth of July potluck, isn’t it?”
Jamie and Bella exchanged a look.
Fallon huffed out an exasperated breath as she lifted the lid off the container. “I misread the recipe,” she explained, selecting a muffin and peeling the paper off of the bottom half. “Once. And no one in this town will let me forget it.”
“Because you served the cake at the potluck.”
“Three years ago. And it wasn’t really that bad,” Fallon defended.
“You used two tablespoons of baking powder instead of two teaspoons,” Bella reminded her, settling back in her chair. “The cake was tough and chewy.”
“And tasted like metal,” Jamie chimed in.
Color filled Fallon’s cheeks as she tore a piece off the muffin. “Okay, it was bad,” she acknowledged, as she popped the morsel into her mouth. “But these are delicious.”
Jamie sat down again and reached into the container—because even after eating a full breakfast, there was room for a muffin. Bella continued to look dubious.
“I brought something else, too,” Fallon said, as she broke up the bottom of the muffin into pieces and set them onto each of the babies’ trays.
Henry, Jared and Kate showed no hesitation, gleefully stuffing the pieces into their mouths.
“What?” Jamie asked, nibbling tentatively on the muffin.
Fallon hesitated, not wanting to overstep. But she’d spent a lot of time with this man and his children over the past ten months, and although she understood that he was still grieving the loss of his wife, he needed to start to look forward instead of back—for the sake of his babies if no one else.
So she pulled the paper out of her pocket and unfolded it, then slid it across the table for Jamie to read.
He gave it a cursory—almost curious—glance, then looked away to focus his attention on the muffin that he suddenly couldn’t shove into his mouth fast enough.
Bella leaned forward to peer at the words on the page.
“It’s Henry, Jared and Katie’s first Christmas,” Fallon reminded Jamie gently, sliding the paper closer to him. “And I want to help you make it the best Christmas ever for them.”
“They’re not even a year old,” he pointed out. “It’s not as if they’ll remember the occasion.”
“Maybe not,” she acknowledged. But she loved the holiday season almost as much as she loved the triplets, so she’d decided that she was going to do everything in her power to ensure that their first Christmas was a truly memorable one. That was why she’d come up with a list of suggested activities to introduce HJK—as Jamie affectionately referred to his children—to some yuletide traditions and get everyone in the holiday spirit.
Unfortunately, she knew that she would face an obstacle in their father. It was Jamie’s first Christmas without his wife, and she understood it wouldn’t be an easy one for him. She also believed that it wouldn’t help him or his children to dwell on what they’d lost.
“But you will remember,” Fallon told him. “And when they look back on the pictures you take over the holiday season, they’ll see that you made it a wonderful one for them.”
“I don’t know—”
“Fallon’s right,” Bella interjected, reaching across the table to touch her brother’s hand. “You need to do something special—for all of you. It’s your first Christmas as a father—”
“And a widower,” he pointed out.
“As a father,” she said again, determined to emphasize the positive. “And that’s a cause for celebration.”
He glanced at the list again, his thick brows drawing together. “First Christmas photo with Santa? Am I supposed to ask the fat guy to pose with HJK after he squeezes down the chimney on Christmas Eve?”
“No,” Fallon said, with what she thought was incredible patience. “You’re supposed to take them to the mall in Kalispell.”
He was shaking his head before she even finished speaking. “I don’t do malls and I don’t have the time—or the inclination—to bundle up three babies, strap their screaming, squirming bodies into car seats, and trek into the city to stand in line with dozens of other harried parents for a photo op with a phony Kris Kringle.”
“Well, the real one is kind of busy at the North Pole this time of year,” she shot back, deadpan. “And you need to make the time and fake the inclination if necessary, because this is important.”
“To whom?” he countered.
“To me,” Bella interjected, obviously attempting to play peacemaker. “I’d love a picture of my niece and nephews with Santa.”
“Then you can take them,” Jamie told her.
Fallon drew in a slow, deep breath and mentally counted to ten. It wouldn’t help the situation if she lost her temper, but she was so frustrated with him—and for him. She knew he was grieving, but she also knew he loved his babies and, when he finally stopped grieving, he would regret the opportunities he’d missed. She wasn’t going to let him have regrets.
“We’ll put that one aside for now,” she finally relented. “The outfits I’ve ordered haven’t come in yet, anyway.”
His frown was back again. “You ordered outfits?”
“Wait until you see them. They’re the—”
“I don’t want to see them,” he told her. “I want you to send them back. I can afford to buy clothes for my kids. I don’t need your charity.”
Fallon sighed. “It’s not charity. It’s a gift.”
“And very thoughtful,” Bella interjected again, with a pointed look at her brother.
Jamie sighed. “Bella’s right. I’m sorry.”
“Prove it,” she said.
His brows lifted. “How am I supposed to prove it?”
“By agreeing to fulfill the requirements of my list.”
“I’m not that sorry.” He pushed the paper away from him.
She shoved it at him again.
With a sigh, he reached out to take it, his fingertips brushing against hers in the transfer. Little sparks skipped through her veins in response to the brief contact.
She glanced up, to see if he’d experienced any kind of reaction. His gaze remained focused on the page, his expression neutral.
“I have no objection to a tree,” he finally conceded.
Fallon ignored her own disappointment. “Great,” she said. “We’ll bundle the kids up this afternoon, take them in the sleigh out to the woods and find an appropriate specimen.”
“That’s a wonderful idea,” Bella agreed.
Jamie frowned. “This afternoon? What’s the hurry? It’s only the first day of December.”
“A tree is the most obvious symbol of Christmas,” Fallon pointed out reasonably. “Having one in the house will help you get into the spirit of the season.”
Nothing in his expression hinted at the tiniest bit of holiday spirit, but he shrugged. “Fine. Whatever. If you want to take the kids out and chop down a tree, I’ll see if one of the kids from next door is available to help you drag it back.”
“Uh-uh,” Fallon said, shaking her head. “I’m not taking the kids out to chop down a tree—we are.”
“I don’t have time—”
“Make time,” she said, interrupting his familiar refrain.
He frowned. “When did you get to be so bossy?”
“She’s always been bossy,” Bella chimed in. “I don’t know how it’s possible that you’ve known her for more than twenty years and not known that.”
But Fallon wasn’t surprised that he hadn’t noticed her ability to take charge and assert herself when the situation warranted. There were a lot of things that Jamie had never noticed about her. Most notably the Montana-sized crush she’d had on him since she was a girl experiencing the first stirring of adolescent hormones.
And while a part of her was grateful that he’d never discovered her feelings for him, another part continued to be frustrated that he’d always viewed her as his kid sister’s friend. Sure, over the years they’d developed a friendship of their own outside of their mutual connection to Bella, but Jamie had only ever seen her as a pal to hang out with and an occasional confidante.
She was the only person he’d shared his anger and frustration with when he’d discovered that his wife had secretly been taking birth control while he’d thought they were trying to get pregnant. Of course, when Paula finally had conceived, Jamie had shared the good news with everyone in Rust Creek Falls. He’d been so thrilled, he’d practically shouted it from the rooftops. But he’d subsequently admitted to Fallon that Paula wasn’t nearly as excited about having a baby as he was—and even less so when they learned that she would have three of them.
“I thought you were the bossy one,” Jamie responded to his sister’s comment while his speculative gaze lingered on Fallon.
“I’m not bossy,” she denied.
His lips twitched. “Of course not. And now, I really do need to get out to the barn to check on Daisy,” he said, suddenly remembering his expectant mare.
Fallon nodded. “Will we see you at lunch?”
“Not if I’m going to finish up early to go out hunting for a Christmas tree.”
“I didn’t ask you to do that,” she pointed out.
“It gets dark early this time of year.” He snagged a couple of muffins out of the container on the table, then winked at her on his way to the door. “These will tide me over.”
She started to offer to wrap them up and fill a thermos with coffee, then clenched her teeth to hold back the words. She was pleased that he liked the muffins, but while offering baked goods was an acceptable and neighborly gesture, sending him off with a bagged lunch and a hot beverage was something a wife would do.
And Fallon wasn’t his wife—she was his friend and his children’s babysitter, nothing more. She needed to remember that—for the sake of her own heart.
Chapter Two (#u37234b83-7376-505a-b4e9-c5a9d1404a57)
While Jamie was making his way to the door, his sister started clearing the breakfast dishes off the table.
“If you have to get to work, I can take care of that,” Fallon offered.
“I’m not really in a hurry,” Bella admitted.
“You don’t have to meet Hudson to look at applications?”
“Not until this afternoon.”
Fallon shook her head. “Really? You were so afraid to sample my baking that you made up that story?”
“I didn’t make it up,” her friend denied. “I just fudged the timeline a little.”
“I’ve prepared lunch and occasionally dinner here numerous times over the past ten months and you never balked at eating anything I’ve cooked,” she pointed out.
“You know how to put a meal together,” Bella confirmed. “Dessert? Not so much.”
“Ouch.”
“You have a lot of talents,” her friend soothed. “Baking just isn’t one of them.”
