The Cowboy's Triplets (6 page)

The wild hoofbeats she was hearing were nothing more than her own blood pounding in her ears.

“She kind of wigged me out.” Jackie glanced at Darla thirty minutes later as she sat in her friend's living room sipping hot tea. Their business papers were spread out on the table in front of her, but Jackie couldn't stop thinking about Sabrina McKinley. “I've never talked to a fortune-teller before. I don't know why it spooked me.”

“I wonder at Fiona for sending her to your house,” Darla said. “No matter. You got her to Bode's, and I feel bad enough for her having to pay a call on that troll.”

Jackie looked down into her cup. She did, too. “So, where do we start?”

“Here are some ideas on financing. Here is the new spring inventory that has already been bought for next year.” Darla pointed to different papers. “Best of all, here are the orders that are outstanding already for next June. Who would have thought we had so many antsy brides around Diablo?”

It was almost like reading a gossip sheet. Jackie gasped as she looked down the list of names Darla gave her. “I didn't know all these people were engaged!”

“And lucky for us they are.” Darla grinned. “Love is definitely in the air.”

Jackie felt a shard of pain go through her. Love was in the air, but not for her. Pete did not love her. He was
going through some break-up pangs, probably, but they would pass. She knew her guy. Pete lived in the moment. He didn't think about the future, or life beyond the next Saturday night.

She was the worrier, the seeker. “This is great. This is just what I need.”

“Really?” Darla beamed. “I was hoping you'd say that! Let's break out some champagne, partner!”

Jackie smiled, then remembered the strange flutter in her stomach. “Maybe just a soda for me. I've got a bit of a nervous stomach tonight for some reason.”

Darla peered at her. “Do you think you might have a bug? There's been a lot of flu going around the hospital.”

“I don't think it's a bug.” Jackie felt a bit peaked. “Is it warm in here to you?”

“I'm fine,” Darla said. “Let's go in the kitchen and get you a cold drink.”

Darla got up and Jackie followed, although not with any enthusiasm. She wasn't certain ice would be enough to make her feel better. “So, if we decide to buy the wedding boutique, when do you plan to turn in your resignation?”

“I already did.” Darla plunked three cubes into a glass, filled it with ginger ale and handed it to Jackie. “I gave my two weeks' notice, and I'm happy to be free.”

Jackie nodded. “I will be, too.” She thought about Mr. Dearborn, who loved to stir her up. “I'll miss it, but I do need a break.”

Darla smiled. “Are you and Pete having some kind of little romance problems?”

Jackie blinked. “Why?”

“Just checking. You seem a little out of sorts.”

The warmth was definitely back, despite the ginger
ale, but this time it was embarrassment. “We broke up tonight.”

“What happened?” Darla looked concerned. “This is a small town. You know better than to think you can keep something like that quiet around here. Tell me everything before I hear it through the grapevine.”

Jackie shook her head. “How long has everyone known?”

“Since your mother told Fiona, and she told all her buddies at the Books 'n' Bingo Society. Which includes my mom.” Darla grinned at her. “We've all known forever that you were sweet on each other.”

“Why didn't you say anything?”

Darla shrugged. “I just thought you'd mention it to folks if you wanted to. Besides, it isn't like I don't know something about having a crush on a Callahan man.”

“Really?” Jackie tried to picture Darla with any of the brothers and couldn't come up with one who could elude her gutsy, determined friend. “Who?”

“I'm going to wait five years to tell you, just like you did. Let's see if I can keep a secret that long,” Darla teased.

“Tell me now.”

Darla shook her head. “Unlike you, my secret crush has no idea I think he's a total stud. And we're going to keep it that way, unless I can figure out a spell to get him to notice me.”

“I guess you could always ask Sabrina. She seems to know everything.”

Darla glanced at her. “She really got to you, didn't she?”

Jackie perched on a bar stool at the counter. “She said I was going to be blessed with three children.”

“Wow,” Darla said, “that's better than a home pregnancy test.” She giggled.

Jackie felt better just mentioning it. “Silly, huh?”

“Completely weird. Don't let it bother you.”

“I'm not sure it altogether bothered me.” Jackie looked at Darla, then smiled. “I felt sorry for her.”

“She tells you you're going to have three kids, and you feel sorry for her? I'd be feeling sorry for myself.”

“You don't want children?”

“If they were Judah's children, I'd have all he wanted.” Darla grinned. “I could be a happy, barefoot and pregnant bride if the man involved was Judah Callahan.”

“Judah! I should have known you'd fall for a hard case.”

“I like a challenge, what can I say?” Darla smiled. “But unless it's with him, I won't be having children. I'm a career woman. I want to make enough money to buy my own tiny ranch.” Darla looked around her house. “I love it here, but I want a place where I can have horses.”

Jackie nodded. She understood. A Callahan man, a ranch, horses, children—wouldn't that just be heaven?

“So why'd you and Pete break up?” Darla asked. “You look so sad.”

“I don't really want to talk about it.” Jackie sipped at the ginger ale, feeling another squirm in her stomach. It was strange. She was never sick, never had aches and pains.

“You may not have a choice,” Darla told her. “You looked sad when you came inside, and now you look like you've lost your dog. People will figure it out.”

Jackie sighed. “We broke up because it wasn't going anywhere.”

“Where did you want it to go?”

“Someplace different than Saturday-night sex.”

“Oh. I suppose just asking for additional Monday-night sex was out of the question?”

Jackie smiled. “I don't know. We'd been in a routine for so long it had become a rut.”

Darla looked at her. “How did Pete take the news?”

She remembered him standing on her porch, staring at her with hungry eyes. “He didn't say a whole lot.”

“Typical Callahan.”

Jackie felt another butterfly float across her stomach. “Listen, I think I'm going to head out. What papers do you want me to sign before I go?”

Darla grinned. “Several papers. And we'll need to go to the bank on Monday. But,” she said with a teasing smile, “if the fortune-teller's right and you turn up pregnant, you have to model one of our gowns at your wedding.”

“Oh, sure,” Jackie said, “fat chance.”

But deep inside her heart, Jackie knew she would have loved to have had a child with Pete. “Hey, let's take a drive.”

“A drive where?” Darla asked.

“Over to the Jenkins'.”

Darla hesitated before getting up to put her long blond hair into a ponytail. She pulled on a knitted cap and a wool jacket. “I'm ready to ride.”

“You don't mind?”

“I totally understand. You'd feel better if you knew that Mr. Jenkins hadn't yelled three years off the life of your new friend. Or shot her.” Darla shrugged and turned the lamps down. “The thought crossed my mind, too. She must have some strong magic or Fiona wouldn't have sent her to the bear's den.”

Jackie got up to follow Darla to the door. “I don't
think she has any mystical powers at all. I think she's just one of Fiona's friends.”

“That's not saying much. I'm one of Fiona's friends, or at least my mother is, and I don't have any powers. Shall we stop at the drug store on the way and pick up a test for you?”

“No, thanks.”

“Wouldn't it be funny if the fortune-teller was right?”

“No,” Jackie said, “it would not.”

Ten minutes later, Jackie and Darla stood on Mr. Jenkins's porch, stamping their feet to get the snow off. They could see Sabrina's old truck in the gravel drive.

“I can see them through the window,” Jackie said.

“Not that we should be spying, but scoot over so I can see.” Darla stepped up to peer inside. “They look like they're having a friendly chat.”

“Yeah.” Jackie was surprised Bode Jenkins had let Sabrina into his house. He was known for being rude to visitors and stingy with his hospitality. “Are they drinking tea?”

“And eating brownies, I think. Those are Julie's brownies,” Darla said. “I recognize the frosting on top and the tiny white chocolate chips. She gives them out every year for Christmas.”

A flash of indigestion hit Jackie, surprising her. She, too, looked forward to the judge's brownies, so why had her stomach suddenly pitched?

Fear.
“We should go,” she murmured. “We don't want Mr. Jenkins to think we were—”

“Being nosey, which we are. Maybe we should ring the bell and see if we can get ourselves invited in for tea and one of those brownies, though.”

“Hi, Jackie! Darla!”

Jackie swallowed a gasp, whirling. “Julie! Hi!”

Darla had jumped a foot beside her, but now all she said was, “Hi, Julie. We were just about to ring the bell.”

Julie's brown eyes twinkled. “Come on in. Dad's got a visitor, but he won't mind a few more.”

“We wouldn't want to bother anyone,” Jackie said, and Darla said, “Sure, we could come inside for a minute.”

“Let me help you with that firewood,” Jackie murmured, taking a few sticks of it from Julie though the judge clearly had it handled.

Darla pulled the door open for Julie. “Was there anything special you were stopping by about?” Julie asked.

Darla's eyes met Jackie's. “We were going to get your thoughts on a business matter,” Jackie said. “We should have called first.”

“We always have visitors, and you're always especially welcome,” Julie said, including both of them in her gracious words.

It was true. Julie did get lots of callers, mostly men who weren't afraid of Bode waving a shotgun at them. Cakes and pies were known to make their way with some frequency to the Jenkins's household, particularly if a grievance had been settled in someone's favor.

“Jackie, Darla, this is Sabrina McKinley,” Julie said. “She's a home-care provider who's come to visit Dad. Please come in and sit down, and have some tea with us.”

“Hello, Sabrina,” Jackie said. Darla murmured a greeting as well. Sabrina smiled at them, and the indigestion Jackie was suffering turned up a notch. “Good evening, Mr. Jenkins.”

“You're interrupting,” Bode said. “Do you know what time it is? Past time for a social call!”

Jackie and Darla backtracked to the door. “You're absolutely right, Mr. Jenkins. We're so sorry. Julie, we'll call you tomorrow.”

“You don't have to go—” Julie began, but Jackie already had the door open.

“Good night, all. It was good to see everyone,” Jackie said.

“At least take some brownies with you,” Julie said, holding out a napkin with two on it.

Darla snatched the brownies. “Thanks, Julie. We'll take you to lunch one day this week. Good night, everyone!”

They hurried to the truck. Jackie was out of breath after scrambling through the slushy snow. “Gosh! That's what we get for trying to busybody as successfully as Fiona!” Jackie cranked the ignition and gunned the truck down the snow-covered gravel drive.

“I thought you said Sabrina was just a garden-variety fortune-teller.” Darla chewed her brownie happily. “These brownies are great. Are you going to want yours?”

“No.” Nausea swept Jackie at the mention of food. “Maybe I am coming down with a bug.”

“Perhaps we should carry a line of christening gowns, maybe even matching mom-and-me bride and baby gowns.”

“I'm not pregnant,” Jackie said, still thinking about Sabrina. Very tough to put anything over on Judge Julie. The home-health-care provider story was an angle Jackie hadn't envisioned.

“We'll see,” Darla said. “Everybody's stories seem to be changing pretty fast. Good thing you're in the mood for change, huh?”

“Yeah,” Jackie said, “I'm a real big fan of change.”

 

O
N
S
UNDAY MORNING
, Pete noticed Fiona looked shocked—and none too pleased—when all of them piled into the van. This was nothing different from their usual routine. Whoever was available on Sunday mornings jumped in the van to go to Mass with Fiona and Burke.

“Good morning, Aunt Fiona, Burke,” Pete said, as they all grabbed their usual seats.

She turned to glare at them. “What are you doing?”

“Keeping you company, just like we always do,” Pete said, to a chorus of accompanying grunts from his brothers.

“You should be out looking for wives,” she said, her doughy little face sweet—determined, yet sweet.

“Don't you worry about a thing, dear aunt.” Pete patted her on the shoulder. “We've come up with a solution to the problem.”

She brightened. “You have?” She cast a slightly optimistic glance over the carload of big men. “I'm so happy to hear it. Did you hear that, Burke? They have a solution!”

Burke started the engine. “Windshield wipers are stuck. Just a minute.” He got out of the van.

“So tell me,” Fiona said. “Don't make me wait.”

“Sam's going to get married,” Pete said.

Fiona's eyes went wide. “Sam?”

Sam nodded. “If it makes you happy, Aunt Fiona, it's no skin off my nose.”

She glanced around the van. “Anybody else?”

“Nope,” Pete said. “Sam's getting married, so Sam will get Rancho Diablo.”