Cade Lockhart swung open the front door of his Laramie, Texas, retreat and glared at Gabe. “I don’t care what the folks told you to get you to come back from Africa,” he said in a gravelly voice. “You don’t have to babysit me.”
Gabe looked over at his pro baseball–playing brother. Still recovering from arthroscopic surgery, his pitching arm in a sling, Cade had seen better days. His parents had been right to call him home to help out his younger sibling.
“Save your griping.” Gabe shouldered past and set his duffel bag and backpack down. “After three bus transfers, a twenty-two-hour flight and a two-and-a-half-hour drive from DFW, I need a shower. A nice cold beer and food would be nice, too.”
Cade clapped him on the back with his left arm. “You’re really planning to bunk with me?”
Gabe strode through the luxurious digs and headed straight for the fridge, where he found plenty of beer and a plate of cold cuts. Aware Cade wasn’t the only one who didn’t want parental interference, he helped himself to both. “I’m not spending the next three months in my old room at the ranch.” He grimaced. “Mom will be on my case constantly to get a job stateside and get married and have a family of my own. And Dad will have me up at sunrise chasing cattle every morning unless I’ve got something medical to do. So…my excuse is going to be that you need me to help rehab your rotator cuff, make sure you’re not overdoing it or pushing too hard, too fast.”
Cade rolled his eyes and continued watching Gabe’s face. “You’re really taking a three-month break?”
Although he would have preferred to keep the truth private, Gabe confessed, “It was not so delicately suggested to me by my boss at Physicians Without Borders that five years without a single trip back home to Texas was not good for the psyche. So, I’m on leave until fall, when I will get my next assignment.”
And now it was his turn to ask, “How is your shoulder?”
“Hard to tell, since the only thing they’ve let me do since I had surgery last month is gentle stretching exercises. But they’ve promised I can start working out more soon. Hopefully, I’ll be back on the pitching mound by August.”
Gabe took in the bottles of over-the-counter vitamins and herbal cures. Some of which, he knew, should not be combined with the prescription meds Cade was taking. “That quickly?” From what he knew, it could take a rotator-cuff injury up to a year to heal. Six months would be pushing it. Three months…could be career suicide.
“Well—” Cade flashed an unrepentant grin “—there’s what they tell me I can do and what I’m gonna do.”
Exactly what the family was worried about, Gabe thought.
“Meanwhile, as you can see, I’m not suffering too badly.” Cade waved his good arm expansively, indicating the baskets of flowers, gourmet goodies and home-baked treats on every counter. Some of which bore his team’s logo.
Gabe helped himself to a tray of cookies. “This from the Texas Wranglers?”
“Some. The rest are from the ladies back in Dallas—” Cade flashed a sly grin “—who are constantly visiting me and bringing me care packages.”
The problem was, Gabe thought, Cade wasn’t interested in any of them, outside of the arm candy they provided him. His one true love was baseball.
Knowing how hard his brother had worked to accrue his fame and fortune, Gabe nodded admiringly. “Not too shabby.”
Cade bypassed the beer in his fridge and poured himself a glass of milk. “I could set you up,” he offered generously.
“Nah.” There was only one woman he was interested in, and she wouldn’t give him the time of day.
Cade’s lips twitched. “Still carrying a torch for Susannah Alexander, hmm?”
Gabe forced the image of the hot-as-hell woman from his mind. “What are you talking about?” he asked, as if he didn’t know.
Cade chuckled with the inveterate ease of a true ladies’ man. “I’m not deaf, blind and dumb. She’s still single, you know.”
Gabe took another slow sip of beer and tried not to think of this as another golden opportunity. That probably wouldn’t end in an ill-gotten kiss. “Actually, I wouldn’t,” he said dryly. Since she hadn’t returned any of the texts, calls or emails he’d sent her after he’d left. After six months he’d gotten the message. Loud and clear. So much for watching out for her. Sorry, Brett and Belinda. He sent a glance heavenward. I tried. But Susannah wasn’t interested in having me in her life in any way. So…
Aware Cade was still watching him curiously, Gabe slid the cold cuts back in the fridge and shrugged. “Although I’m not surprised she’s not married.”
Cade nodded, in complete agreement this time. “Well, duh. I mean, five kids…”
Five! Whole body tensing, Gabe turned back to him. “What are you talking about?”
Cade scoffed. “She had quintuplets via her late sister and brother-in-law’s frozen embryos, three and a half years ago. Don’t tell me you didn’t know that!”
He definitely had not.
* * *
“Mommy, doorbell!”
Daisy, their five-year-old golden retriever, yawned and rose from her place in the foyer.
Susannah stepped out from behind the easel she’d set up in her formal dining room. “Okay, I’ll get it. You all keep working on your pictures,” she told the quints.
“And then when we’re done with our art, we get to go outside and play?”
Susannah wiped her hands on her cloth. “When it cools off after dinner, yes.” She made her way to the door and swung it open. Stared at the handsome interloper on the other side of her portal, hardly believing that Gabe Lockhart was here after all this time. Looking tan and buff and sexy as sin. The crinkles around his eyes and mouth were a little more pronounced, but in her opinion, that just added to his rugged masculinity.
He was dressed, much as he had been the last time she had seen him, in a clean tan cargo shirt, worn snug-fitting jeans and boots. He filled out his clothes a little more, with the kind of brawn generated by a physically demanding profession. As she imagined medicine would be, out in the wilds.
As if understanding that the handsome do-gooder should be a family friend, Daisy left Gabe’s side. Her expression alert but relaxed, she ambled over to stand next to Susannah. Her ears slightly forward, her head cocked curiously to one side.
“I hear congratulations are in order,” he drawled, the grooves on either side of his sensual mouth deepening.
His husky tone intensified the sparks arcing between them. Trying not to recall how thrilling it had been to kiss him, she held on to her nonchalant stance. “For you or me?” She copied his deadpan quip, as Daisy eased between them, tail wagging.
Traitor, Susannah thought.
Grinning down affectionately, Gabe petted her dog’s silky head before returning his attention once again to her. “You, obviously.” His gaze traveled toward all five of her children, who were still busy working on their pictures at the dining room table, then back over to her. His gaze softened unexpectedly, and he continued to study her intently. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
She folded her arms in front of her and lifted her chin. “Why would I, given how you felt about my plans to have a family on my own?”
He shrugged, whiskey-colored eyes darkening inscrutably. “Had I known, I could have helped.”
Out of some misguided sense of duty to Belinda and Brett? That was the last thing she’d want. Because help like that usually came with strings. Which she would never want. Nor would she want to be the beneficiary of Gabe’s unrelenting need to play hero everywhere he went. “Last I heard, you were practicing medicine in poverty-stricken areas of Asia and Africa.”
“So?” he said, with another curious look behind her, as the noise level of the quints began to escalate.
Trying not to worry about what her children might be getting into, Susannah kept her attention firmly on their uninvited guest. And just how handsome and sexy he looked in the late-afternoon sunlight. If only he had been interested in her, not as the sort of obligation that had been thrust upon him by the deaths of Brett and Belinda that everyone else in the community also felt, but for all the right reasons. But he wasn’t, so… “That’s a little far to travel to come and change a diaper, isn’t it?” Although those days were long past, thank heaven!
His lips curved into a laconic smile. “I get time off, when needed, for personal reasons.”
Except the situation between them wasn’t personal, Susannah thought. Even if the hopelessly romantic part of her still wished it might someday be. She blew out an exasperated breath. “Still not getting your point, Doc.”
He leaned in and spoke so the children would not hear. “Had I known you were expecting multiples, I would have returned to Texas to see you through the labor and delivery.”
And seen her sans clothing? At least from the waist down? Physician or no… She fought back a wave of heat at just the thought. “I don’t think so,” Susannah retorted coolly, firmly and quickly nixing his desire to play the hero to what he obviously perceived as her damsel in distress. “Besides, I have plenty of friends here who helped out.” Social worker Mitzy Martin McCabe, who was herself the mother of quadruplets, also conceived from in vitro, among them.
Mitzy, who’d embarked on single motherhood, too, before finding the love of her life, had understood Susannah’s desire to have a family on her own better than anyone. Although, unlike Susannah, Mitzy had defied the odds and ended up having a wild romance with her new husband, Chase McCabe.
Gabe’s gaze narrowed, and he eyed the living room behind her. “Maybe you should invite me in.”
“Again,” Susannah said in an exasperated tone, “I really have to ask why?”
Gabe gestured behind her.
She turned, almost afraid to look.
When the doorbell rang, her children had been seated at the dining room table, working on that day’s post-nap art project, so she could get a little extra work in herself before starting dinner. Now, all five were engulfed in a soundless misbehavior. Abigail was leaning across the table, in her usual take-charge manner, bossily trying to correct Rebecca’s drawing, to her shyest child’s dismay. Connor was squirting glue out of a bottle at his brother, Levi. Who reacted by letting out a loud rebel yell and lobbing crayons and paper at his brother. Gretchen had climbed onto the center of the table and was hoarding the glitter, to her sisters’ dismay.
Nearby, her own easel and paints were clearly in jeopardy, as an entire uncapped bottle of school glue took flight.
Aghast, Susannah moaned. “Oh no, no, no…”
She raced across the room, stepped in to catch the glue with her open palm, just before it hit the nearly completed canvas. Her closing fingers didn’t stop the white fluid from spreading outward, however. On the back of the easel, the floor, the nearby table and chairs. “What has gotten into you all?” she demanded.
Not that she didn’t know.
Every time she talked on the phone, or spoke with someone at the door, or put her attention elsewhere, the quints had a way of directing her attention right back. Usually through mischievous acts like these.
“Levi started it!” Connor claimed.
“Did not!” Levi said loudly.
Abigail frowned. “They were all taking too long! We should have been finished by now!”
Gretchen stuck out her tongue. “I do not need any help! I can do it all by myself!”
Rebecca surveyed Susannah’s expression, sighed quietly, and put her thumb in her mouth.
“Is it like this all the time?” Gabe asked.
Yes, Susannah thought, acutely aware how close to the edge of her patience she often felt these days. But not about to admit it to Gabe, she merely smiled and fibbed, “Of course not.” Clearly, he didn’t believe her. Which prompted her to add, a little haughtily, “Your presence has obviously upset them.”
* * *
Gabe might have bought that had he not been one of eight very independent, rambunctious kids. Who were also close together in age. Although not this close.
The downstairs of the Craftsman abode had been opened into one large space, so Gabe was able to watch Susannah stride over to the kitchen, her body moving gracefully beneath her trim cotton T-shirt and matching shorts as she moved. She had cut her hair to just beneath her chin and filled out a little since she’d had the quints, but the curves were nice and womanly, as was the new maternal fullness in her face. She looked like someone who’d had all her dreams come true, he thought, and that was a good thing. Though he imagined she would be even happier if she had a loving husband on the premises to help her rear this rambunctious brood.
Susannah returned, paper towel roll and bottle of spray cleaner in hand. As she knelt to quickly dispense of the sticky mess, Abigail sidled up to Gabe and asked, point-blank, “Are you here to marry our mom?”
Taken aback, his jaw dropped open in surprise.
Susannah glanced over at him. Judging by the pink in her cheeks, she, too, thought it was a ridiculous notion.
“’Cause it’s not going to happen,” Connor chimed in.
Gretchen shook her head. “She won’t even go on a date.”
“And Mr. Bing keeps asking,” Levi announced, edging closer, too.
“So does the plumber.” Abigail stood between her brothers.
“And the electrician,” Rebecca took her thumb out of her mouth long enough to say.
Wow, she really did have a line of suitors, Gabe thought, lifting a brow. That was no surprise, given she was as beautiful and elusive as ever, with her delicate features, silky honey-blond hair and sea-blue eyes.
“Don’t forget that guy that brings our pizza and is always smiling real big at her,” Gretchen said.
Susannah finished wiping up the mess on the floor and stood, her cheeks turning an even deeper rose.
“Those men are all just being nice, because they are doing a service for us. And I am nice to them because they are here helping us out. I don’t think it means anything out of the ordinary. They’re just people being kind and neighborly the way everyone in Laramie County is,” she soothed.
The quints weren’t buying it, Gabe noticed with satisfaction and something else that felt peculiarly close to jealousy.
The kids knew male-female interest when they saw it.
Connor stood on his head. His brother, Levi, immediately followed suit. Looking over, he informed Gabe happily, “But Mr. Bing asks the most.”
Another waft of concern sifted through him. “Mr. Bing?” Did the guy have a chance with her? Gabe had never really envisioned Susannah with someone else. Given how independent she was, he had figured she would either stay single, or a damn miracle would happen, and she would end up with him.
With a harried sigh, Susannah soaked up a particularly big glob of glue on the dining room table. “Bingham Taylor. From the bank.”
Gabe hovered close enough to Susannah to take in a whiff of her wildflower perfume. Her skin looked as touchable and soft as he recalled, her lips just as kissable.
Throat parched, he asked, “The Bing Taylor we went to school with?”
“Yes.”
Miracles or no, Gabe rejected the notion out of hand. “Last I remember, he was about three inches shorter than you.”
A squeak sounded behind them. Turning, they saw Rebecca holding open the screen door to let in their latest visitor.
Speak of the devil, who apparently had caught just enough of what was being said to add in a low, cultured tone now completely devoid of his homegrown Texas accent, “I grew when I went to Princeton for my undergrad and Harvard for my MBA.”
He certainly had, Gabe thought. These days, Bing was almost as tall as Gabe. He also had the aura of big-city slickster. Yet Bing’d maintained the inherent kindness and compassion he’d always had, too.
But that did not explain his pursuit of Susannah. Not to Gabe’s satisfaction, anyway.
“And yet here you are, back in Laramie.” Gabe surveyed Bing’s custom suit and tie, wishing he had taken the time to iron his own shirt and get a haircut, instead of just shower and shave.
Bing smiled and extended his palm. His handshake was firm, friendly. “I’m just here for a year or so to settle my dad’s estate and manage the sale of my family’s ranch. I want to make sure my mom gets top dollar. Then I’ll be going back to my life in Chicago. Meanwhile, I’m working remotely out of the branch here.”
Susannah informed Gabe proudly, “Bing is a vice president of private investments for Unity Bank.”
“And the two of you are…” Dating? Trying to date? Gabe wasn’t sure how he felt about that. It wasn’t that Bing wasn’t a decent person. He just wasn’t right for Susannah. Did she know that? Hard to tell from her genial expression.
“Bing is handling the general welfare trust I set up for the children, with the funds Brett and Belinda left,” she explained.
His demeanor suddenly all business, Bing looked at Susannah. “And we need to talk. Which is why I’ve been calling you.”
Flushing guiltily, she carried the used paper towels over to the trash. “I know. I’ve been busy.”
Bing nodded. “You’re always busy.” He grinned down at the kids, who grinned back. “And it’s understandable. Which is why I want to set up a business dinner.” He lifted his hand before she could get a word in edgewise. “It can be late. After the little ones are in bed. I’ve already talked to your neighbors Mike and Millie Smith. I know they sit for you all the time, and they’ve offered to watch the kids whenever it’s convenient for us to meet. As long as it’s not on Wednesdays and Thursdays, when they’re off gallivanting around the state with their line-dancing club.”
Now Susannah looked irked—which wasn’t a surprise, given her highly self-sufficient nature, Gabe thought. “You really didn’t have to do that.” She forced a smile.
The kids looked back at Bing.
“I really think I do,” he said, “if we’re going to make this happen.”
Susannah slipped her cell phone from her pocket. “How about I make an appointment and come to the office instead?”
Good. She didn’t want a dinner date, Gabe thought. Glad she had enough sense not to go on a date bound to go nowhere.
“Fine. As long as we set something up now,” Bing returned firmly.
Susannah sighed, looking anything but willing to do just that. Surprised by the protectiveness surging within him, Gabe stepped in. “Maybe you could do it later.” Or never, he thought grumpily.
Bing frowned and gave Gabe a highly frustrated look that encouraged him to mind his own business.
Noting the simmering tension, Susannah stepped between the two men, her back to Gabe. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be difficult, Bing. I’ll make time,” she said quietly. “I can’t meet with you until Friday, but I will be there first thing when the bank opens, if that is agreeable with you.”
Bing nodded in obvious relief. “It is. I’ll see you then.” He said goodbye to everyone and left.
Susannah turned back to Gabe with an arched brow. She glanced at her watch, noting it was near five. “I think that’s your cue, too.”
Gabe realized that. Their ongoing artwork now abandoned, the two boys took several plastic toy crates, turned them over to empty them onto the carpet, willy-nilly, and then began stacking them, one on top of the other, directly behind Susannah. Probably, he thought, so she wouldn’t be able to see what they were doing and correct them. Again.
Aware their messiness wasn’t his problem, but finding out what was really going on with Susannah was, he stepped closer, keeping his voice low, persuasive. “I’d like to catch up…”
She stiffened, the way she had after the one and only time they had ever kissed. Still holding his eyes with the heat of remembered passion, she said tersely, “I don’t think that’s possible, Doc.” Chin up, her icy glare warning him away, she stepped defiantly backward.
Seeing what she didn’t, and the boys hoped she would not, Gabe reached for her in an attempt to catch her before she stumbled into the teetering crates and the small metal vehicles scattered all around them. To no avail. She moved away from his hand, misinterpreting and dodging his chivalrous attempt to save her—at the exact same time her foot landed awkwardly atop a small toy ambulance.
Again, he put his arms out to keep her from falling. And again, she stubbornly evaded him, throwing out both her arms and shoving him away. For a second, she teetered, and it looked as if she didn’t need his help after all. Then still off balance, she tripped and twisted her right leg on the way down.
* * *
Searing pain ripped through Susannah’s ankle, simultaneously pushing its way up toward her knee and down toward her toes. She cried out in agony as she hit the floor, her leg twisted awkwardly beneath her.
Around her, everyone froze. Then the kids sprang into action. “Mommy’s got a boo-boo!” Abigail shouted.
Rebecca’s lower lip quivered. “Don’t cry, Mommy!” She rushed forward to help.
“We’ll fix it!” Connor declared.
“I’ll get the Band-Aids!” Gretchen moved to the bathroom.
“She needs peas!” Levi yelled.
Gabe knelt in front of her leg while two of her daughters flanked her comfortingly on either side of her head. This time, to her relief, he made no effort to touch her. Yet she was quivering with awareness just the same. “Are you okay?”
Obviously not. Determined not to let him know that, however, she fought back a grimace. Shifted her weight off her ankle. Another searing pain shot through her, and there was no way to circumvent the helpless tears flooding her eyes.
“We’ll get you a cookie!” Abigail leaped up.
“And some juice!” Rebecca followed.
All doctor now, Gabe took charge. “Let’s see if we can get you up and over to the sofa.”
Susannah wanted to refuse, but there was no doubt she needed his help. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt so badly if she were able to straighten her leg. Plus, the kids were all starting to look very worried. “Okay.” She swallowed around another wave of pain.
He laced his arm about her waist. Aware how big and strong and solid he felt next to her, she put her arm around his brawny shoulder. Carefully, he guided her to a standing position and helped her limp over to the couch. She sat back so her legs were stretched out in front of her across the cushions, alarmed to find the pain was even worse.
“Mommy, we’re coming!” The quints raced back into the room.
Gretchen held Band-Aids, Levi a frozen sack of peas. Abigail had a cookie. Rebecca, a juice box. Connor had the Mother’s First Aid Manual.
Susannah attempted a smile. “Thank you,” she said as everything was pressed into her hands, all at once.
Meanwhile, Gabe was peering at her ankle, which was looking uglier by the minute. “Mind if I quickly examine it?” he asked.
Might as well. It was, she knew, the only way she would get rid of him. “Go ahead.” She sighed.
He palpated it gently, turned it this way and that. Every action caused excruciating pain. She managed not to make a sound, but because he was watching her face, he knew. And so did, she realized unhappily, her kids.
“This has got to be X-rayed,” he said.
She had feared as much. Acutely aware of their audience, adapting an air of nonchalance, she took a small bite of the cookie and ignored the wave of nausea that rose in her throat as a result. “I’ll go in the morning.”
He stood, all take-charge doc. “No,” he said autocratically, already taking out his phone. “You’ll go now.”