“All you have to do is be nice to her,”

Evan whispered to himself as he got off the elevator.

Admitting how dependent his family was on Claire and recognizing how close he’d come to alienating her earlier, he knew he had to be on his best behavior. He couldn’t yell at her or accuse her of things. And he certainly couldn’t be attracted to her….

He pushed open the door, and she turned and smiled. “Hi.”

Evan’s breath froze in his lungs. Her clinging powder-blue knit dress outlined every delicious curve of her body, accented her brilliant sapphire-blue eyes and brought each of Evan’s nerve endings to complete attention.

He tried reminding himself of all the good reasons he had to stomp out this attraction, but in the end, he knew it was a losing battle….

Dear Reader,

The year 2000 marks the twentieth anniversary of Silhouette Books! Ever since May 1980, Silhouette Books—and its flagship line, Silhouette Romance—has published the best in contemporary category romance fiction. And the year’s stellar lineups across all Silhouette series continue that tradition.

This month in Silhouette Romance, Susan Meier unveils her miniseries BREWSTER BABY BOOM, in which three brothers confront instant fatherhood after inheriting six-month-old triplets! First up is The Baby Bequest, in which Evan Brewster does diaper duty…and learns a thing or two about love from his much-younger, mommy-in-the-making assistant. In Teresa Southwick’s charming new Silhouette Romance novel, a tall, dark and handsome man decides to woo a jaded nurse With a Little T.L.C. The Sheik’s Solution is a green-card marriage to his efficient secretary in this lavish fairy tale from Barbara McMahon.

Elizabeth Harbison’s CINDERELLA BRIDES series continues with the magnificent Annie and the Prince. In Cara Colter’s dramatic A Babe in the Woods, a mystery man arrives on a reclusive woman’s doorstep with a babe on his back—and a gun in his backpack! Then we have a man without a memory who returns to his Prim, Proper…Pregnant former fiancée—this unique story by Alice Sharpe is a must-read for those who love twists and turns.

In coming months, look for special titles by longtime favorites Diana Palmer, Joan Hohl, Kasey Michaels, Dixie Browning, Phyllis Halldorson and Tracy Sinclair, as well as many newer but equally loved authors. It’s an exciting year for Silhouette Books, and we invite you to join the celebration!

Happy reading!

Mary-Theresa Hussey

Senior Editor

The Baby Bequest
Susan Meier

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Books by Susan Meier

Silhouette Romance

Stand-in Mom #1022

Temporarily Hers #1109

Wife in Training #1184

Merry Christmas, Daddy #1192

*In Care of the Sheriff #1283

*Guess What? We’re Married! #1338

Husband from 9 to 5 #1354

*The Rancher and the Heiress #1374

†The Baby Bequest #1420

Silhouette Desire

Take the Risk #567

SUSAN MEIER

has written ten category romances for Silhouette Romance and Silhouette Desire. A full-time writer, Susan has been an employee of a major defense contractor, a columnist for a small newspaper and a division manager of a charitable organization. But her greatest joy in her life has always been her children, who constantly surprise and amaze her. Married for twenty years to her wonderful, understanding and gorgeous husband, Michael, Susan cherishes her roles as a mother, wife, sister and friend, believing them to be life’s real treasures. She not only cherishes those roles as gifts, she tries to convey the beauty and importance of loving relationships in her books.

Dear Evan,

There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think of you and your brothers and the unfortunate split in our family.

Nonetheless, if anything ever happens to me, no matter what your feelings, you and your brothers must become guardians to your half siblings. I have faith that the three of you will do the right thing.

You, however, must also take full responsibility for the lumber mill. Though Grant may be the most stable, and Chas may be the most crafty, because you have special sensibilities, you are my choice to sit at the helm of my business. I know I don’t need to remind you that a man’s worth isn’t necessarily in the obvious. We may have made this community by providing jobs and a source of pride for the people of this county, but the truth is, this community made us. We owe them. They are stakeholders in our business every bit as much as we are. I want you to take care of them.

And I also want you to do right by my assistant, Claire. If you keep her on as your helpmate, she’ll not only teach you the ropes of the business and do a good day’s work for you every day, but she might just teach you a thing or two about yourself.

Love always,

Dad

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter One

Claire Wilson opened the door of Attorney Arnie Garrett’s office and a little bell rang, announcing her arrival.

“Good afternoon, Claire,” Jennifer Raymond, Arnie’s secretary, called from around a corner. “I know that’s you,” she said, “because everyone else is already gathered in the conference room. Mr. Garrett’s not back from the funeral yet. So you can either wait in the reception area or go down the hall and join the other interested parties.”

Claire licked her dry lips. She knew who the other “interested parties” for the reading of Norm Brewster’s will were. Norm’s sons—Evan, Chas and Grant. In this little corner of the world they weren’t merely part of the family that founded Brewster County, Pennsylvania, they were notorious. After years of spending the family fortune like water, wreaking havoc on the virtue of the local girls and using their fists to prove most of their points, all three had walked away from Brewster County two years ago, vowing never to return…. Rumor had it they’d gone on a two-year binge of sin and corruption.

“You wouldn’t be standing there making rash judgments, now, would you?”

Claire jumped at the sound of Jennifer’s voice and spun around.

“I’m not making any sort of judgments at all,” Claire lied.

“Oh, baloney,” Arnie’s secretary said with a wave of her slender hand. She was a tall woman, at least five-ten. Her gray hair was pulled into a loose knot at her nape and her blue eyes sparkled with the joy of the moment. “Everybody’s making judgments and speculations,” she whispered as she cautiously approached Claire. “It’s been a mystery to everyone why Norm chose to marry a woman half his age only two months after his first wife’s death. When they ran, those boys weren’t doing anything but being loyal to their mother.”

Having seen how Norm Brewster had pined for his sons Claire had her own opinion about that, but she didn’t care to share it with Brewster County’s official gossip hotline. She edged her way around Jennifer to the doorway. “Uh, you said everybody was in the conference room, right? I think I will join them.”

Walking down the dimly lit corridor, she heard the low rumblings of male voices only a few feet away from her and her stomach did a somersault. Because these men were much older than she was, she knew about them by reputation only, but the rumors she’d heard were enough to scare anyone witless. And, too, these men had hurt Norm, a man she’d grown to care for and admire.

Still, she drew in a deep breath and headed for her first meeting with the Brewster brothers. She was going to have to face them sooner or later, because if what she suspected was true, the reading of the will would announce that these three were her new bosses.

“Gentlemen,” she said as she breezed in and walked to a chair at the end of the table.

Instantly, all three men stopped talking.

“I’m Claire Wilson,” she continued, struggling to keep her voice from shaking. Her heart constricted painfully, then began to pound in her chest. The Brewster boys were big, much bigger than she’d expected. And handsome. Dressed in dark suits, white shirts and ties, they looked respectable and sophisticated, but there was still something rough and dangerous about them. Any female over the age of fifteen could easily understand why women dropped at the feet of these men.

One had eyes so dark they were nearly black, and dark hair. The other two were almost his opposite with sandy brown hair and pale-colored eyes. Both of them gave her a suspicious, somewhat hostile scrutiny because she’d invaded their privacy.

Claire’s breath shivered in her chest. “I am…was…your father’s assistant at Brewster Lumber,” she explained.

Finally, after what seemed a century of silence, one of the lighter-haired men spoke. “It’s nice to meet you, Miss Wilson.”

“Thank you,” she said softly, then swallowed hard. She couldn’t tell if she was afraid of these men or attracted to them, or both. All she really knew was they had presence. Rumors and stories she’d heard as a teenager took on new meaning.

“I’m Evan,” he said, walking toward her with his hand extended.

Claire swallowed again. “I’m sorry about your loss,” she said as she allowed him to wrap her small hand in his much larger one. Up close he was even bigger than he seemed from across the room. And much more imposing. Not only could she smell the fresh, spicy scent of his aftershave, but she could see that his eyes were green. Cool, misty green.

Before Evan Brewster had a chance to reply, Arnie Garrett bounded into the room. “I see you’re meeting everyone, Claire,” he said as he strode to the head of the table, his arms piled high with file folders stuffed to capacity. His short gray hair was tousled in spite of the fact that there was no breeze on this bright May day, and his suit was oddly wrinkled.

“You’re shaking Evan’s hand,” Arnie continued. “The dark-haired gentleman is Grant. And the last, here, is Chas.” He paused and smiled at the three men, all of whom suddenly looked sheepish and docile. “Everybody take a seat anywhere around the table,” he directed as he began rummaging through the top file. “Claire, you remember witnessing Mr. Brewster’s will last summer?”

“Yes,” she said, though she didn’t believe her witnessing Norm’s signature was the reason she’d been summoned. Norm had asked for the favor on her second day of employment, and she hadn’t seen the specifics of the document.

“Well, there’s been a codicil,” Arnie said as he carried the instrument to Claire and motioned for her to identify her signature.

She nodded.

“The codicil doesn’t change anything, only adds to it,” he explained as he returned to his chair. “When the will is officially probated, you, Jennifer and I will need to go to the Register of Wills office and sign papers. For now, though, this is nothing more than an informal reading.”

Claire relaxed, but as she did she glanced over and saw Evan studying her, his elbow resting on the arm of his chair and his cheek braced between his index finger and thumb. He was a beautiful man, a perfect specimen. His thick sandy-brown hair fell in a soft wave to his forehead and had enough body that it stayed where he combed it. His skin had a very natural, healthy tone that emphasized his opaque eyes. His nose was the right size and shape for his face, and his lips were full, his mouth generous. She’d never, ever seen anybody who was as flawless as he was—at least not in person.

“So, we’ll get right to the will, because it’s relatively short and uncomplicated. Then I’ll move into the additions of the codicil.”

Arnie’s sudden announcement caused Claire to realize she was staring at Evan Brewster, and she quickly looked away. She thought that he should have been embarrassed for staring at her, as well, but in a swift peek she saw he obviously wasn’t. He was curious about her and he didn’t feel the need to hide it.

Well, let him be curious. Lord knew, everybody was curious enough about him. If her guess was correct, the Brewster boys now owned Brewster Lumber. Even if they decided to sell it, they’d have to spend a few weeks around town, and Claire knew Evan Brewster would get more than his fair share of stares.

“Claire?”

Claire started as if in a trance. “I’m sorry,” she apologized to Arnie. “I didn’t hear what you said.”

“I said that the first item in the codicil is a bequest from Mr. Brewster to you of ten thousand dollars.”

Claire pressed her hand to her throat. “Oh.”

“You are the only beneficiary outside of the family,” Arnie noted, smiling fondly at her.

“Which explains her presence here,” Evan said, sounding irritated.

“Evan,” Arnie cautioned. “I also invited Claire to be here this morning so that I could introduce her to all of you because she was your father’s assistant. If the three of you are going to take over Brewster Lumber, she’s the person you need most in the world right now. You know your father didn’t employ any executives. He didn’t have a board of directors. He did everything himself, hoping for the day one or all of you would return home. Because he wanted to be able to give each of you a position at the mill, he couldn’t give those jobs to other people. So, with Claire’s help, he ran the business himself.”

Claire watched quietly as all three brothers exhibited a range of complex emotions. Grant hung his head guiltily. Chas drew in a long breath. Evan gazed out the window. If the expression on his face was any gauge, it appeared he wished he could live the last two years over again.

If she didn’t know how much Norm had suffered from his sons’ rejection, Claire might have actually felt sorry for them. But she did know how lonely and abandoned he’d felt. And these men were the cause of that pain.

“Because I’m familiar with all the circumstances of this situation, I recognize this isn’t easy for you,” Arnie continued delicately. “But I also know that your father would want nothing more than to see the three of you at home again, taking your place at Brewster Lumber. I’m proud of all of you for coming home.”

Evan cleared his throat. “It’s a little late.”

Arnie shook his head. “Not really. All your father ever wanted was for Brewster Lumber to continue on. You could still fulfill his wishes.”

Though Claire understood that coddling these three was probably Arnie’s way of cajoling them into staying in town, she still agreed with Evan. It was a little late—about two years too late. As far as she was concerned, the fact that they’d been “kind” enough to come home to take possession of the highly successful family business didn’t do much in the way of exonerating them.

Arnie set the will on the table. “The rest of the codicil revolves around one specific thing. Before I move on, I’d like to know if you have any questions about what I’ve already read.”

“I don’t think there is anything to explain. Even if I wasn’t a lawyer, I’d know that because our stepmother died in the accident with our father, we inherit the lumber mill,” Chas said softly.

“That’s right,” Arnie agreed. “Actually, the codicil stipulates that you inherit all your family’s holdings, including the house, equally with your siblings.”

“Brothers,” Chas corrected absently, nervously tapping a pencil he’d pulled from his jacket pocket. Though he had similar coloring to Evan, the two really didn’t look alike. Chas had a more boyish face. Evan, with his cool, direct stare and very angular cheekbones, looked older, wiser…sexier.

“No, Chas,” Arnie said haltingly. “I didn’t make a mistake. And neither did your father when this addition was written. He said siblings because he meant siblings.”

“But we only have brothers,” Evan quietly observed, piercing Arnie with his uncompromising gaze.

“Actually, you don’t,” Arnie said. He rose from his seat, pressed a button on the telephone and instructed Jennifer to come into the office.

Claire got a sick feeling in her stomach. It had never occurred to her that because Norm’s sons hadn’t spoken to him in two years, they didn’t know their father had triplets!

Grinning from ear to ear, Jennifer entered carrying two adorable little girls, one on the crook of each arm. Both were around six months old and were dressed in pink ruffled dresses with white tights and black Mary Janes.

“My God, twins!” Grant gasped.

“No. Triplets!” Jennifer all but sang, stepping out of the way and allowing everyone to see Arnie’s wife, Judy, as she walked into the room carrying a little boy. Wearing a miniature suit and tie, he was every bit as beautiful as his two sisters. But not only were the three children darling, they were also picture-perfect matches for the Brewster brothers. One of the girls had black hair and dark eyes. The second girl and the boy had light brown hair and pale green eyes.

For the next thirty seconds, Evan felt as if all the air had been drained from the room as he struggled to comprehend that he had not only another brother—a baby brother—but two sisters, as well.

Sisters!

He pressed his hands to his face, then rubbed them down his cheeks. What had his father done?

“Angela wasn’t pregnant when Dad married her, was she?” Grant asked angrily.

Because that was an excellent question, Evan came to attention.

“No, the kids are only six months old.”

“And they’re that big?” Chas gasped.

“They’re actually average size,” Jennifer happily said as she brought the girls farther into the room. Walking around the table, she eased the dark-haired baby onto Grant’s lap and then handed the other girl to Evan. Judy gave the boy to Chas.

Awestruck, confused, numb, Evan stared at the little girl, who took one look at him and let out a screaming wail. Purely on instinct, he grabbed her under the arms and held her away from him. “I swear to God, I didn’t hurt her.”

“She’s only frightened,” Judy soothed as she set the baby girl on Evan’s lap again. “She needs to get to know you. Give her a few minutes to get familiar with you and she won’t cry anymore.”

As the words came out of Judy’s mouth, the real meaning of what she was saying hit Evan, and he glanced at Chas, whose wide-eyed stare told him he’d also figured everything out, then at Grant, who also had a glazed expression in his brown eyes.

Evan looked down at his little sister. A child. A baby. Babies. “These kids are our responsibility now, aren’t they?”

Arnie nodded once. “I’m afraid so.”

“My God, he peed on me!” Chas cried, and bounced from his seat, holding the baby away from him as if that could protect his already damp trousers. At his sudden movement, though, all three babies started to cry and scream.

“Unfortunately, I’m not very good with these disposable diapers yet,” Judy confessed, shouting to be heard over the noise. “My babies wore cloth diapers and plastic pants. I’m afraid this was the best I could do.”

“Since the accident, my wife and I have been caring for the children,” Arnie explained. “But I researched the law and the bottom line is that the triplets belong to you.”

Though Grant and Chas looked completely confused and out of their element, Evan felt wave upon wave of an emotion he couldn’t begin to identify. All his life he’d wanted children. Doctor after doctor told him he couldn’t have children. Now, when he’d all but given up hope, his father had given him the one thing he couldn’t give himself. A family. Babies. And not just one or two…three. Three glorious children.

His throat closed and he swallowed convulsively. “What do you mean you researched the law?” he asked quietly, finally realizing what Arnie had said didn’t fit in with the rest of the conversation.

“Let’s face it, Evan,” Arnie said. “You’re three single men. I don’t think you’re the best choice for guardians. I wanted to be sure that legally you were the people who were supposed to be the guardians, so I did some checking. And the law says these children are yours, unless you want to—”

“Unless we want to what?” Chas said with cool tones.

“Sign over custody,” Arnie said casually. “I have papers right here. All you have to do is sign them and Judy and I will continue to take care of the kids.”

Evan knew he should have let Chas handle this, since he was a lawyer, but something inside him snapped. These were his kids, damn it! They were Brewsters and they would be raised by Brewsters.

Even as his baby sister screamed and squirmed in his arms—or maybe because she screamed and squirmed in his arms—Evan got the distinct impression he and his brothers had been set up by his father’s best friend and attorney. He didn’t think it was a coincidence that Arnie asked them to sign over custody two minutes after he told them of the children’s existence and while all three babies screamed bloody murder.

“Why would you think we would want to hand over custody?” he asked, hanging on to his temper only by the merest of threads.

“Well, look at you,” Arnie scoffed, but kindly. “The three of you aren’t prepared to be parents, least of all to triplets.”

“Is that why no one bothered to mention the children when we arrived this morning?” Chas asked angrily.

“Well, I…The shock of your father’s death was enough,” Arnie said logically. “I couldn’t spring it on you that you also had two sisters and a brother.”

“Who also inherit half the lumber mill,” Grant surmised, rising. “I guess that never crossed your mind when you decided you wanted custody.”

Evan was glad his brothers could think so clearly, so rationally, but it was also apparent that their tempers were reaching the point where there would be no turning back. With three screaming babies and two furious, conclusion-jumping brothers on his hands, Evan knew it was time to leave before somebody said something he might regret. His own notions about Arnie’s motives were making him every bit as angry as his brothers appeared to be. But more than that, the subtle insinuation that maybe their father wouldn’t want them to have the kids was pushing him over the edge. He couldn’t believe that. He refused to believe that. Because his father was the only person aside from doctors who knew Evan couldn’t have children, Evan wouldn’t believe his father would be so cruel as to deny him the privilege of raising these three.

In fact, that was his saving grace. That was the minute when he forgave his father, and in his heart knew he’d try to understand. Because his father had stipulated in his will that the brothers were to be guardians, Evan knew he had not only forgiven his sons, he was allowing the family to move on.

Lord only knew what Arnie Garrett was trying to pull.

Evan rose. “Are there diapers or bottles or something that we should have?”

“I have a diaper bag in the office,” Judy said uncertainly.

“Good, please get it. Chas, Grant, let’s go.”

“Now, wait,” Arnie said, trying to stop them.

Already at the door, Evan spun around. “No, you wait,” he angrily countered. “I don’t give a damn what you think about me or my brothers, but you had no right to second-guess my father’s wishes for these children. Whether you like it or not, Mr. Garrett, Brewsters take care of their own. And if my father were alive, that’s exactly what he’d tell you. He’d stand by his will.”

Judy returned and handed the huge diaper bag to Evan. He easily hoisted the strap of the satchel over one shoulder.

“Evan, wait,” Arnie called, but Evan kept walking. He managed to snuggle his baby sister closer to his chest, and though that didn’t entirely calm her, at least it took her crying to a low wail. He strode down the hall, then through the front office and the door with the tinkling bell and out into the sunshine, his brothers behind him.

“Evan, wait!”

This time the call came from Claire, the assistant. And that was another thing. Ten thousand dollars to a woman who was an assistant for a year? One short year? Evan didn’t begrudge his father the right to do what he wanted to do with his money, but given that Arnie had tried to sneak the kids away from him everything in that codicil became suspicious.

“Wait!”

This call was louder and stronger and gave Evan the impression she planned on following him forever if she needed to. Rather than take her to the door of the Brewster mansion, he stopped.

“What?” he demanded angrily.

She drew a long breath because she’d been running, and Evan tried not to notice the flush on her cheeks or the way her silky black hair accented her blue eyes.

“Car seats,” she managed to say when she’d finally gotten enough air.

He stared at her. “Car seats?”

“In Pennsylvania it’s the law that all kids under the age of four have to be in a car seat.”

Evan looked at Chas.

“She’s right,” Chas said, juggling the little boy he held in an effort to get him to stop crying.

Evan hesitated a few seconds. “I’m only going three miles up the road,” he said, and turned away from Claire. “I will drive safely and I will drive slowly. Once we get the kids settled, I’ll send Grant out for car seats.”

He felt a tug on his coat sleeve and, annoyed, stopped again. “What?”

“This is ridiculous,” she said softly, infuriatingly calm. “All we have to do is take these kids back to Arnie’s office and get their car seats from Judy’s car.”

Evan didn’t care that what she said made sense. What he felt was fresh and raw. He knew the bottom line for Arnie was probably money, and the thought that someone would use children for profit made Evan sick. Going back for those car seats was a capitulation he knew he couldn’t make. Particularly since he didn’t have any idea what Claire’s involvement was in this situation. She might be innocently drawing him back for car seats, or she might be taking them back to give Arnie another shot at getting the guardianship release signed.

He gave her a cool look. “We’ll stop at the discount store on the outskirts of town. That means we’ll be driving about a mile without car seats, but we’ll get the car seats,” he said quietly, protectively clutching his sister. He didn’t even care when she wiped her wet nose on his lapel. “If you don’t like that, call the police.”

With that he turned away again and started down Market Street toward his sport utility vehicle, which was parked by the curb. Because both Grant and Chas had ridden with him, the three men and their babies stopped when they reached Evan’s truck. He unlocked the doors.

“For pete’s sake, at least let me come to the house and help you get organized,” Claire said reasonably as Evan fumbled with his keys.

“No.”

“What are you going to do with three kids?” she asked.

Evan whirled around to face her. “How old are you?”

Her chin lifted. “Twenty-three.”

“I’m thirty-three. I have ten more years of experience than you. I think that makes me ten years more qualified to take care of kids than you.”

He got into the car and handed his sister to Grant, who arranged both kids securely on his lap. When Evan’s arms were free, Claire caught his jacket sleeve to get his attention again.

“There are seven children in my family. The youngest is six. I’d say I have oodles more experience caring for kids than you.”

Evan didn’t have to worry about closing his door because Claire slammed it in his face. Angry, yet undeniably exhilarated, he pulled his car into the street.

He’d never felt like this before. Stupid and happy. Stupid because he should have accepted Claire’s help since he knew he and his brothers really couldn’t take care of three babies. Happy because he had three kids, and maybe even a chance to make amends to his father.

As long as Attorney Arnie Garrett didn’t have a legal maneuver up his sleeve to wrestle custody away….

Chapter Two

Evan couldn’t stop thinking about Claire Wilson. His anger at Arnie Garrett was so great he felt certain it should have flooded out any other thoughts, but instead, Claire Wilson drowned out judgments of Norm Brewster’s lawyer as if he were only a secondary player instead of the primary culprit.

He kept wondering if it was naïveté that had Claire throwing in her lot with Arnie Garrett, or loyalty to his father, or just plain stupidity.

He couldn’t believe it was stupidity. His father didn’t suffer fools lightly, so he wouldn’t have hired her if she weren’t intelligent. Nor did Evan think it was loyalty, because his father’s will clearly stated that he wanted the triplets raised by his estranged sons. Norm Brewster would insist family be raised by family. If anything, his father would have demanded the boys be found and forced to raise their kin. That was just the Brewster way. So she couldn’t have been helping Arnie out of loyalty to his father, which meant it had to be naïveté.

To a degree, Evan could accept that. Claire was young. And pretty enough that she’d probably been protected from the harsh realities of life by doting parents, idealistic teachers and every man in this county.

He scowled, confused about why that twisted oddly in his gut. The girl was a looker. There was no sense pretending she didn’t have boys knocking down her door….

Furious with himself for thinking about foolish things when he had real trouble to attend to, Evan scowled again and shoved the woman out of his mind as he jogged up the steps of the circular stairway in the foyer of the Brewster mansion.

He and his brothers had accidentally discovered the nursery when they’d gone in search of the birth certificates, the will and its codicil. Eventually they found all three in their father’s safe. Everything Arnie had told them that morning had been verified—including the fact that if the Brewster sons didn’t want custody of the triplets, Arnie and Judy Garrett would be the guardians. As such, Arnie would be the trustee of their holdings in Brewster Lumber, and he would have fifty percent voting power and complete control of the triplets’ money. He’d also be paid a handsome salary. Reason enough, in Evan’s mind, for the man to try to get custody of the children.

When Evan opened the nursery door, a cacophony of crying greeted him like the noise of an off-key symphony. If he hadn’t been so frazzled trying to figure things out—like the kids’ names, how to get them to stop crying, and how to feed them—he would have taken a moment just to absorb everything. Their little faces, the reality that they were his flesh and blood kin, the fact that they were sisters and a brother were almost incomprehensible.

“Give me a damned bottle already,” Grant growled as Evan made his way into the nursery. Fading rays of late-afternoon sunshine poured into the curtainless windows at the back of the room, which was already bright and cheerful with white walls covered with radiant rainbows. Carefully neutral, the nursery had obviously been designed to keep the kids together without insulting Norm Brewster’s sensibilities about little boys being anywhere near pink.

Remembering his father, Evan held back an involuntary smile, which turned into a surge of pain and regret. How he wished he could have these last two years back again. If nothing else, he would at least try to understand why his father had married so soon after his wife’s death…and why he married someone so young…and why he had more children.

“A bottle, Evan,” Chas implored in exasperation, and Evan brought himself out of his reverie, knowing it was pointless to wish for things that couldn’t happen.

Both Grant and Chas sat in rockers, each holding a fussing baby. The third child sat in the crib, clutching the bars, sobbing as she awaited Evan’s return.

“Okay, one bottle for Taylor,” he said, and handed it to Grant. “One for Annie,” he said, using the shortened version of Antoinette. “And one bottle for Cody.”

Taylor almost grabbed the bottle from Grant’s hands and gulped the contents as if she had been on a deserted island without food for the past two days. Little Annie also drank quickly and easily, nearly directing Evan on how to handle the bottle. But Chas had the devil’s time getting Cody to drink. Chas would move one way, Cody would move the other. The nipple bumped his nose. Chas dripped liquid on Cody’s forehead. And all the while the starving baby screamed.

“This isn’t going to work,” Chas growled after he’d finally made contact with Cody’s mouth.

“Yes, it is,” Evan insisted doggedly.

“You can’t raise kids on good intentions,” Chas said as he set his rocker in motion.

“We have more than good intentions,” Evan said, beginning to rock after he was sure Annie was comfortable.

“We don’t know the first thing about babies.”

“Gentlemen,” Grant interjected. “In case you didn’t notice this morning, we had a volunteer to assist us. Unfortunately, somebody insisted we didn’t need her.”

“I don’t think we do.”

“Well, I think we do,” Grant said simply.

“And I think we do,” Chas agreed, then he bounced off his chair. “Aw, damn. He spit up on me.” Turning his head slowly, Chas speared Evan with a withering look. “I know we need help.”

“Then go ahead and call her,” Evan said, refusing to use Claire’s name because he got a fluttery sensation in the pit of his stomach when he realized he’d get to see her again. Which was insane. She was ten years younger than he was. And potentially up to her ears in Arnie Garrett’s scheme to take the triplets.

He couldn’t possibly be attracted to her.

It wasn’t right.

“Uh-uh.” Chas shook head. “You yelled at her, you call her.”

“I agree with Chas,” Grant said, rocking Taylor, who sucked noisily. “You yelled at her, you call her.”

“You boys forget, I don’t think we need her.”

“And you forget, Evan, that Arnie Garrett has a lot to gain if he becomes guardian for these kids,” Chas reminded his brother. “Having a will or even having the law on our side won’t mean anything if Arnie can prove we’re incompetent. I say we call her.”

Evan looked down and saw that little Annie had finished her bottle and was peacefully sleeping in his arms. Taylor was nearly asleep in Grant’s arms, and even Cody had settled down and was drinking heartily.

They didn’t need help from anyone.

This baby thing was a piece of cake….

As she unlocked the door of her apartment that night, Claire could hear her phone ringing. She juggled two bags of groceries and quickly pushed her way into her kitchen, catching the phone on the fourth ring.

“Hello,” she said breathlessly.

“Hello, this is Evan Brewster.”

Claire felt an incomprehensible torrent of pleasure just hearing his voice. Which was ridiculous. He might be a handsome man, but he was a stubborn man, an angry man and one of her new bosses.

Still, her traitorous, disobedient heart skipped a beat. Claire ignored it in favor of more important concerns like why was Evan calling her? Was it to fire her for slamming a car door in his face earlier? Or was it to ask for help? She prayed he was calling for help.

“What’s up?” she asked, trying to sound casual as she angled the phone between her ear and shoulder.

There was a pause. A long one. Finally, Evan said, “We could really use some guidance with the kids.”

Claire released a silent sigh of relief. Thanks to the triplets, it appeared she was keeping her job. Norm had always said they were an unexpected blessing. She was beginning to understand what he meant. “Tell me what’s wrong and I’ll tell you how to fix it.”

“We figured out how to use the disposable diapers, but the same system that works for the girls doesn’t seem to work for Cody. All the things Judy gave us are gone. We don’t know if we’re allowed to feed them anything besides what was in the bottles, and we can’t get them to stop crying.”

Claire grimaced. “This isn’t something we can handle over the phone.”

“I didn’t think so.”

“I’ll be right over.”

By the time Claire drove up in front of the Brewster mansion, it was already nine o’clock. Loyalty to Norm had Claire feeling guilty for visiting her parents and doing her grocery shopping rather than staying home waiting for a call just like this one. But, to be honest, Evan and his brothers had seemed so determined that Claire genuinely believed they’d rather sign a pact with the devil than call someone for help.

Swallowing their pride and admitting their shortcomings in favor of the babies’ needs had quickly, easily raised her opinion of them. But the Brewsters had actually elevated their reputations in her eyes by how protective they were of their new brother and sisters. Regardless of the fact that the babies were the product of a marriage they didn’t condone, the Brewster brothers had accepted the triplets without question or qualm.

Even if they didn’t have a clue how to care for them.

She stepped out of her car and pulled out the box of disposable diapers she’d picked up at the discount store on her way to the Brewster estate. Studying the two-story Tudor-style home, she walked to the front door. Graceful touches of carved wood and stained glass made the mansion the most lush, sophisticated home Claire had ever seen.

Before she rang the bell, the door opened.

“Thank God! Come in! Come in!”

Taking the disposable diapers from her hands, Evan dragged her into the elegant marble-and-cherry-wood foyer. The chandelier sparkled radiantly, giving the entry an unnaturally bright glow.

“Where are they?” she asked simply.

“Upstairs. Follow me.”

Having changed from his suit into jeans and a T-shirt, Evan looked even more attractive than he had that morning at Arnie’s office. His informal clothes defined muscles hidden by his conservative black suit. Once again, Claire had to remind herself that this gorgeous man was her boss. She occupied her mind by studying the dark wood paneling as he led her up the winding stairway to the landing and down the hall, then opened the door to a huge, airy, colorful nursery.

“Oh,” she breathed, first in sympathy for the kids, who had cried so hard and so long they looked exhausted, then in appreciation of the beautiful room with hardwood floors and wood trim and walls decorated in a rainbow motif.

Also dressed in jeans and T-shirts, Grant and Chas sat in two of the three rockers, clumsily holding the girls. Behind them were three identical cribs and behind the cribs were three uncurtained windows trimmed in the same oak as the rockers.

“Where’s Cody?”

“Cody’s in a round thing,” Evan said as if that explained everything.

“A round thing?” Claire echoed, confused.

“I found some round thing with wheels that’s got a seat in the middle. When I first put him in, he stopped crying and started sort of walking around, but that only lasted about twenty minutes, then he was howling with the girls again.”

“Okay,” Claire said, recognizing Evan had put Cody in a walker.

“You get Cody,” she said. “And sit in the third rocker. For now, we’ll just run through some of the basics.”

Nodding obediently, Evan slipped around Chas’s rocker and lifted Cody from the walker. Claire noticed all three kids wore pajamas and decided that was a step in the right direction—as long as they’d figured out how to tighten Cody’s diaper.

“The first thing you need to know is that babies like to feel secure. So check the way you’re holding your child. Make sure the baby can tell that you’re not going to drop him or her.”

Evan tossed her a completely exasperated look. “These kids need sleep.”

“And they also need love, attention and affection,” Claire said angrily, marching over and arranging Evan’s arms around Cody in such a way that the baby would feel both protected and loved. The second her hand made contact with his forearm, though, he started as if she’d given him an electrical shock. Their eyes met briefly, then both quickly looked away.

“Whether you guys understand this or not, you’re complete strangers to these babies,” she continued as she moved to Chas and manipulated his arms around the baby he was holding. “They have to get to know you or they won’t sleep. They probably won’t even stop crying,” she said, jerking Grant’s arms until she had them folded properly around the little girl. “In fact, I’m going to suggest that each of you take a child, one child, and be responsible for that child’s care, so that baby gets a sense of being special, being important and feeling secure.”

When all three kids were properly positioned, she stepped back. “Now, keeping your hands and arms around the baby just like I fixed them, bring the baby up to your chest and cuddle her or him.”

All three of the Brewster brothers did as they were instructed.

“When you cuddle a baby,” Claire continued, “rub your cheek against the baby’s cheek and whisper soft things. Just tell her that you love her.”

“This is weird…” Grant began, but Claire silenced him with a look.

“These kids have been with strangers for the past two days, and,” she added softly, “they lost their daddy, too. And their mom. What each one of them needs right now more than anything else is a little bit of love.”

Crossing her arms on her chest as if daring them to disagree, Claire watched all three shrewdly as—after casting surreptitious glances at one another—each Brewster cuddled his child. As she’d instructed, they rubbed their cheeks on the babies’ cheeks, they whispered endearments.

“Pat their backs,” Claire encouraged quietly, because the sleepy children were calmer now.

“When was the last time you fed them?”

“We gave Taylor the final bottle right before Evan called you,” Chas whispered. Though the little girl he held still sniffed and hiccuped, her crying had stopped and her swollen eyes were closed.

Claire swallowed the lump that formed in her throat. She could feel every iota of these babies’ pain. She missed Norm, too. But on top of that, these kids were lonely and afraid, with strange people for the second time in only two days. “Have the other two eaten?” she asked, her voice soft and tender.

Evan nodded. “Everybody has had a bottle in the past hour.”

“Then they’re ready for bed,” Claire whispered, motioning to indicate that all three children were breathing deeply and evenly. “But putting them into a crib is a very tricky thing, so we’re going to do this one baby at a time.”

The brothers nodded.

“Grant, you first. Stand up slowly,” Claire said, walking over to the first crib. When Grant joined her, she said, “Bend at the waist so that your baby doesn’t leave the warmth of your body until she’s almost at the mattress.”

Though his moves were awkward, Grant did exactly as he was told.

“Gently place the baby on the mattress and slide your hand out from under her carefully…and slowly, so you don’t disturb her.”

As if disarming a homemade bomb, Grant slowly, cautiously slid his hands out from under Annie. Claire motioned for him to take a few steps back, and he did. The baby continued to sleep. Grant sagged with relief.

Next, Claire motioned for Chas to do the same thing. She quietly repeated the instructions, and, as Grant had, Chas also went limp with relief.

Before Claire could motion to Evan, he was already on his way to the last crib. Without any direction from her, he laid Cody on the soft mattress, eased his hands and arms from under the child, stepped away, and then breathed a huge sigh of relief.

Claire had an odd intuition about the way Evan didn’t wait for her help, almost as if he didn’t want to risk her touching him again. Deciding she was putting too much meaning on things that probably had none, she clicked on the baby monitor and motioned for all three men to come out of the nursery. One by one they filed out into the hall. Claire gently closed the door behind them. Placing one finger on her lips, she cautioned them not to say anything and then directed them downstairs.

All four tiptoed down the circular stairway, through the foyer and into the all-white kitchen at the rear of the house. Collapsing on the stools in front of the counter, the brothers groaned.

“Parenting’s not exactly as easy as it looks,” Claire said with a laugh.

“How the hell do you know so much about kids?” Grant asked incredulously.

“She’s got six brothers and sisters,” Evan replied before Claire could. Though she realized he knew the answer because she’d told him as much that afternoon, she felt a strange jolt of joy that he not only remembered but took the liberty of answering for her as if they were longtime friends.

“You’re kidding,” Grant gasped.

“Nope,”

Claire said, then walked to the counter to inspect the empty bottles. Again, she told herself not to make a mountain out of a molehill. She knew what was happening. She found Evan attractive and she wanted to think he found her attractive, too, so she was grasping for straws. “My youngest brother is six. Started first grade this year. Cute as a bug.”

“But you don’t live at home. Your phone number is listed under your name, not your parents’, and I recognize that address as being part of a house converted into apartments,” Evan observed, getting comfortable on his chair.

“I’ve been on my own since college,” Claire informed him casually as she inspected the contents of the cupboards. Her heart had speeded up when she realized he not only remembered everything she told him but now knew where she lived.

But she stilled her thumping heart by reminding herself that he’d called her because he’d needed to get care for the babies. Then she told herself that even if he was attracted to her and she was to him, neither one of them could act on that attraction. First, he was her boss. Second, they had a ten-year age difference. Third, he was rich and she was poor. Dirt poor. Talk about nothing in common…

As she had hoped, she found baby food, formula and vitamins. She pulled out all three and set them on the counter. “It would have been hard for me to move back in with my family after college, but, also, my being home would have disrupted them. David was only about a year old when I left for school. He doesn’t remember me being home. Kelly doesn’t want to give up half her bedroom.” She shrugged carelessly. “Having my own apartment suits everyone.”

“You didn’t move out because you hate kids?” Evan asked watchfully.

Claire laughed. “Heavens, no. I love kids.”

All three men visibly relaxed.

“And I’ll help you,” she said with another lilting laugh. “Look here. These are prescription vitamins. Do you know what they tell you?”

“Yeah, that the kids don’t eat right,” Chas said, frowning.

“No, that the kids go to a pediatrician,” Claire contradicted. “And see,” she added, showing the men the label. “Right here is their pediatrician’s name.”

“Ah,” Chas said happily. “That’s good.”

“That is good,” Claire agreed. “Just by reading this label you’ll know the dosage to give them, and the doctor to call to find out where they are with their immunizations.”

“Immunizations?” Evan echoed, narrowing his eyes at Claire. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Remember I told you that I was going to hit the basics with you?” Claire asked sweetly.

They nodded.

“Well, somebody get a notebook, because I think you’re going to want to be writing some of this down.”

“Okay,” Grant said, rising from his seat. “I’ll take charge of that.”

“Splitting up everything is a good idea,” Claire said, while Grant rummaged for a pencil and paper. “I meant what I said upstairs about each of you taking a child. More than anything else, a baby needs a sense of security. If each of you more or less adopts one child as his own, each baby will get that sense of security.”

Or things could actually fall apart, Evan thought, studying her carefully. He knew he didn’t trust her because he suspected she was involved in Arnie’s scheme to take the kids. He also believed that by bringing her into their home, he and his brothers had opened the door for her to continue aiding Arnie.

He knew his brothers didn’t agree with him and thought he was being paranoid. But he also realized that he had more to lose than his brothers did. They might love these children in a generic way that mixed responsibility and a sense of family, but if something happened and they lost custody, Grant and Chas would get on with the rest of their lives. For Evan much, much more was at stake, because raising these children was his only chance at being a father.

“How did it go after I left last night?”

Though the question was perfectly innocent, Evan turned and glared at Claire. The insides of his eyelids felt like sandpaper, he was so tired he could have dropped where he stood, and his head hurt.

Between the cuddling and crooning, feeding and changing, Evan figured he’d gotten about two and a half hours’ sleep. And since all three brothers awakened for every baby incident, he knew Chas and Grant hadn’t fared any better than he had. But because the triplets couldn’t be left alone, Chas and Grant got to stay home while Evan set off to handle the second half of their responsibility, running the local lumber mill.

“Kids wake up much?”

Another innocent question. Another narrowing of Evan’s eyes.

“My head hurts. I desperately need sleep. I never realized how difficult it is to care for babies.”

“Oh, come on,” Claire said, following Evan into his father’s old office. “Babies are great. And believe it or not, this is a wonderful stage in their lives…except for the teething, but we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

Evan fell into his father’s chair. “Teething. How delightful.”

“Trust me,” Claire insisted, sitting on the corner of the desk as if it was an old habit. “You’re going to love this.”

Evan’s gaze trailed from the curve of her buttocks on the corner of the mahogany desk, down the line of her thighs to the length of leg that currently dangled over the side of his father’s desk. She wore a chaste navy-blue suit, the skirt loose and sufficiently long, the blazer buttoned. She obviously wasn’t trying to draw attention to herself, but because he wasn’t at his professional best from lack of sleep, Evan found himself staring. Claire was a stunning woman, a naturally beautiful woman with glossy black hair, eyes as wide and as blue as the summer sky, and absolutely perfect legs.

When she saw him looking at her legs, she quickly jumped down and maneuvered herself into the chair across from the desk. As if her movements finally brought him completely awake, he realized he wanted the truth about her and he wanted it now. He refused to work with someone he couldn’t or didn’t trust.

“I think you and I need to have a little talk.”

In an unpretentious way she smiled at him, and Evan got a jolt of something that felt very much like attraction again, only this time laced with rightness. He wasn’t merely attracted to this woman. He felt drawn to her. He sensed a sudden, overwhelming appropriateness about her being in his life, and he knew damned well that was foolish. Even if she wasn’t a part of the Arnie Garrett scheme, he couldn’t be involved with her. He couldn’t be involved with anyone. He wouldn’t tie a woman to a life without her own children, so there was no “right” woman for him.

“Three things happened yesterday,” he said, steepling his fingers at his chin. “We buried my father and stepmother, my siblings and I inherited almost half of everything in this county, and I became a parent.”

This time Claire raised her eyebrows. Without as much as a word from her, he knew she wanted to contradict him about “who” had become parents. He also knew that when the time was right, she wouldn’t hesitate to correct him.

Evan swallowed—and not because she’d caught that inadvertent slip. The very fact that she had caught him, and wouldn’t be afraid to tell him so, and the way she was absolutely comfortable in the chair across from him once again made it seem more than fitting that she was not only here in this office, but here in his life. And that bothered him. He could understand being attracted to her—any man over the age of twelve would be attracted to her—but the little jolts of rightness had to be a mistake of some sort.

Determined to ignore them, he cleared his throat. “Do you realize you were there for all three things?”

“Yes. I worked very closely with your father.”

“Very closely,” he agreed with a nod, glad she’d given him an opening to get to the topic that kept getting blotted out by chemistry or sexual awareness or some other damned male-female thing Evan didn’t have time to deal with. “So close that I’d wager you know this business inside and out. And you know how to care for kids. Logically, Ms. Wilson, my brothers and I can’t survive without you.”

“Sure you could,” Claire protested casually. “You could hire a nanny or something.”

“Really? Overnight? On this tiny, sparsely populated piece of the mountain? I don’t think so, and neither do you.”

At the abrupt hardening of the expression in his eyes, Claire shifted uneasily on her seat. She didn’t know what the heck he was driving at, but she had more than a sneaking suspicion she wasn’t going to like it.

“If I were Arnie Garrett and I were trying to coerce custody of the triplets, there is only one person in this world who could help me.”

Claire felt her mouth fall open in surprise. “What?” she said before she could stop herself. “I hope you don’t think that I had something to do with Arnie Garrett trying to get you to sign over custody of the triplets!”

“That’s exactly what I think,” Evan said coolly.

“How dare you!” she gasped, angry in a way she didn’t believe she’d ever been angry before. Most of that outrage came from her loyalty to this man’s father and what she knew Norm would want for his children. “Those babies need to be raised by family. I’d never condone them being raised by anyone but you and your brothers. I’d have gone in search of you and insisted you take them before I’d let Arnie Garrett or anybody else have them, if only because I know that’s what your father wanted.”

“That is what my father wanted,” Evan agreed, waving her back down when Claire sprang from her chair as if to storm out of the room. “I apologize for questioning you, but I had to know whose side you were on.”

“Who says there are sides?” she demanded, furious. “You’re the only person I see making trouble. Everybody else seems perfectly happy with this situation.”

“I don’t agree with you. I don’t think Arnie Garrett is happy with this situation. I don’t think he’s done trying for the kids. And I want the kids. If there’s a war, Ms. Wilson, let me assure you I plan to win it.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Claire agreed quietly. “But you keep talking about those kids as if they are exclusively yours and they’re not. You have two brothers and the triplets need to be raised by all three of you, not just one of you.”

“Grant owns a construction company in Savannah. Chas has an interview with a law firm in Philadelphia in a few weeks. But I could and did leave my job, and my life. Just like that,” he said, snapping his fingers. “I’m here to stay. In the end, those kids will be raised by me. Probably exclusively. And nobody’s going to keep me from doing that.”

“You saw me as that much of a threat?” she asked.

Cool, dignified, he caught her gaze. “I didn’t know what to think about you. That’s why I decided to confront you. Now that I see how loyal to my father you are, I sincerely doubt you could help Arnie do something my father wouldn’t have wanted.”

Stupefied, Claire stared at him. He wore a gray suit, a white shirt and a moss-green tie that brought out the verdant color of his eyes. Those eyes held a determined spark, but his perfect mouth tipped upward, just a fraction, as if he was relieved and couldn’t quite hide it. He looked innocent and sweet, and positively gorgeous. Not nervous. Not confused. Absolutely normal.

In a wave of understanding, she realized this conversation answered the question about why he behaved so oddly around her. He thought she was in cahoots with Arnie Garrett. He hadn’t been getting the same peculiar sensations she’d been getting for the past two days.

Not only was her body constantly on red alert, but she continually experienced a strange intuition that they were made for each other. That wasn’t just preposterous, it was premature. She didn’t even know the man, for pete’s sake. True, he was gorgeous, beautifully built and had a smile that could charm the angels, but it took much, much more than that to be “made for each other.”

And now she knew he wasn’t attracted to her. But, in fairness, she didn’t want to be attracted to him either. She couldn’t afford to be attracted to him. He was older. He was her boss. And he was way, way out of her social circle.

“It’s been a really difficult two days for all of us,” she said, though she wouldn’t meet his eyes. She couldn’t. Something completely wrong was happening to her, and unless or until she was sure she could manage it, she wasn’t going to take any chances. “I have some things I need to do this morning. If you’re going to pick up where your father left off, those contracts—” she pointed at the corner of his father’s desk “—need to be renegotiated. I’d start there, if I were you.”

Evan nodded. Claire let herself out of his office and closed the door, since her desk was right outside and she didn’t want him watching her every move any more than she wanted to be reminded of him.

She didn’t need privacy or time to think about this. Her mother’s involvement with an older, more sophisticated…richer man had cost Claire her father.

Staying away from Evan Brewster should be a nobrainer.

Chapter Three

After work, Claire followed Evan to the Brewster mansion. Because she had been quiet all afternoon, Evan suspected she was probably still annoyed with him for suggesting she might have been in league with Arnie Garrett. For Evan that was good news and bad news. On the one hand, her irritation was a sort of proof that she hadn’t thrown in her lot with Arnie and Evan could trust her. On the other, being able to trust her nullified the argument he continually used to pull himself away from noticing she was a woman. If she wasn’t in partnership with Arnie to take the triplets, then there was no reason not to find her attractive. None, except that he had nothing to offer a wife, so he wasn’t in the market.

And he wasn’t. He had even begun to seriously doubt his attraction to her, in spite of the way it seemed to get worse as the day went on. Huddled together in two rooms, cocooned from the rest of the lumber mill, they were in their own private world. He was sure most of what he was feeling was nothing more than a response to being so close all the time.

As he pulled into the driveway, Evan wasn’t concerned about having to spend extra hours with Claire, since nobody would have time to be attracted to anyone while trying to feed, bathe and put to bed three children. If anything, these next few hours would probably nip the attraction in the bud.

He waited for her by the front door while she parked her car. When she met him at the entryway, he smiled. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

She laughed. It was the first time she’d laughed all day, and though Evan wished the sound hadn’t pleased him so much, he took it as a sign that she’d forgiven him for mistrusting her.

“I said I didn’t mind helping you guys get adjusted to parenting, and I don’t,” she said cheerily.

“You’re sure?”

“Are you trying to get rid of me?”

Wondering if that wasn’t exactly what he was trying to do, Evan opened the door. “Welcome to paradise.”

Crying was the music that greeted them. Evan could see Grant running back and forth in the kitchen. A glance to the right showed Chas had all three sobbing kids corralled in the living room…on the white rug, white sofa and white wing chair.

“What are you doing?” he asked with a gasp, then strode in and scooped Cody off the rug. “Are you blind? Everything in here is white.”

“The kids are clean,” Chas argued in exasperation.

“Maybe now, but…”

Evan stopped when Claire tapped him on the shoulder. “I think I should go in the kitchen and help.”

“Good thinking.”

The minute Claire left the room, some of Evan’s tension eased. He lowered himself to the sofa and settled Cody on his lap. “Sorry,” he said to Chas. “I know you guys probably had a hell of a day.”

“That’s okay,” Chas said, easily accepting his apology. “I imagine your day couldn’t have been any easier than ours.”

“Actually, my day wasn’t too bad,” Evan admitted, pressing his cheek against the top of Cody’s head, not just because it was one of the little gestures of affection Claire had taught them the night before but because it felt right, good. Holding the baby was like getting grounded. Even amid the noise and confusion, everything they were going through made sense when Evan held one of the babies.

“Claire is very much on top of things,” he continued. “She seems to have the entire sequence of events down. When a contract comes in, she knows how to schedule inventory, labor and delivery, and then how to put each contract into the accounting system so it gets billed.”

“That’s a relief,” Chas said as he successfully caught Taylor, who was crawling away as if drag racing with Annie. Unfortunately, he just missed Annie, who eluded him by scrambling around the leg of the coffee table.

Today the girls wore ruffly yellow dresses with a row of very happy daisies across the front hem. Annie, who was now playing peekaboo with Chas around the leg of the table, was so cute Evan was momentarily taken aback. Sometimes when he looked at the kids and realized they were his to raise, he felt the overwhelming sensation that he was in the middle of a miracle.

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