“Mr. Logan?” Lori’s heart began to pound.

Jesse’s head snapped up, and once again his face looked as if it had been carved out of stone.

Lori hoped she woudn’t live to regret her next words.

“Are you still looking for a nanny?”

“That’s right.” The words sounded curt. “I didn’t realize you were interested in the position. When can you start?” Jesse’s words were sarcastic. He must want to scare her off. He’d already fired five nannies in the months since the triplets were born.

Lori met his gaze. And smiled sweetly. She could handle him.

“Right now.”

After the Storm:

A Kansas community unites to rebuild

Healing the Boss’s Heart—Valerie Hansen

July 2009

Marrying Minister Right—Annie Jones

August 2009

Rekindled Hearts—Brenda Minton

September 2009

The Matchmaking Pact—Carolyne Aarsen

October 2009

A Family for Thanksgiving—Patricia Davids

November 2009

Jingle Bell Babies—Kathryn Springer

December 2009

KATHRYN SPRINGER

is a lifelong Wisconsin resident. Growing up in a “newspaper” family, she spent long hours as a child plunking out stories on her mother’s typewriter and hasn’t stopped writing since! She loves to write inspirational romance because it allows her to combine her faith in God with her love of a happy ending.

Jingle Bell Babies
Kathryn Springer

Special thanks and acknowledgment to

Kathryn Springer for her contribution to the

After the Storm miniseries.

Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope;

because of the Lord’s great love we are not

consumed, for his compassions never fail.

They are new every morning.

—Lamentations 3:21–23

To Val, Annie, Brenda, Carolyne and Pat. It was an

honor to be able to work with such gifted writers.

Your cooperation, encouragement and prayer

support over the course of the summer was a real

blessing—and I love how we occasionally took

“cyber-coffee breaks” together!

Contents

Prologue

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 Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Questions for Discussion

Prologue

July 11, 1:15 p.m.

“One of the funnel clouds that touched down in the area yesterday and struck the small town of High Plains was determined to be a level F3. Already the Red Cross, local law enforcement agents and volunteers have banded together to begin cleanup—”

Jesse Logan stabbed his finger against the power button of the radio. He didn’t need to hear a reporter condense the past twenty-four hours into a neat sound bite, or try to describe the damage a second funnel cloud had caused when it slashed across the prairie, directly toward the Circle L.

Jesse had seen the devastation firsthand; he was standing in the middle of it.

The kitchen lay in shambles around him. The twister had spared the outbuildings but clipped the side of the ranch house, taking out a section of the wall, while leaving his mother’s antique china cabinet in the corner of the room intact. Glass from the shattered window littered the floor, strewn among soggy tufts of insulation and chunks of sodden wallboard.

Jesse picked up a piece of wood and was about to pitch it into the growing pile of debris when he realized it was one of the legs from the kitchen table.

His fingers tightened around it, ignoring the splinters that bit into his skin.

Yesterday morning he’d sat at the table, before going out to do his chores.

And yesterday afternoon…

A fresh wave of pain crashed over Jesse, making him wonder if he wasn’t still caught in the throes of a nightmare. Except his eyes weren’t closed.

The crunch of tires against gravel momentarily broke through his turbulent thoughts. For a split second hope stirred inside his chest as he sent up a silent prayer that the car coming up the driveway would be a familiar one.

It was.

The hammer slipped out of Jesse’s hand and grazed a crease in the hardwood floor as the High Plains squad car stopped in front of the house. Colt Ridgeway’s tall frame unfolded from the passenger side.

As the police chief approached, the stoic set of his jaw and the regret darkening his eyes told Jesse everything.

No. No. No.

“This is going to be hard for you to hear, Jesse.” His friend’s quiet words barely penetrated the rushing sound in Jesse’s head. “Late this morning…found Marie’s vehicle…tree fell on the driver’s side…”

Like a child, Jesse wanted to press his hands against his ears and shut out the truth.

Where are You, God? Are You even listening? How much more do You think one man can take?

The silent cry burst out of a place deep inside him.

Hadn’t he gone through enough?

“Marie must have been trying to outrun the tornado,” Colt continued softly. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Jesse. Sorry for you…and your girls.”

Jesse couldn’t answer. Couldn’t tell Colt the truth. Not yet. That his wife hadn’t been trying to outrun the tornado—she’d been running away. From him.

When the driving rain had forced him to abandon his chores the day before, he found Marie’s note on the kitchen table. Next to it, the simple gold wedding band and diamond engagement ring he gave her the night he proposed. An heirloom that had been in the Logan family for generations.

He’d had to read through his wife’s letter twice before the meaning sank in but the words had remained branded in his memory.

Jesse,

I have nothing left to give. If I stay on the ranch, I’ll never become the person I was meant to be. You were the one who wanted a family, so I’m leaving the babies with you. I’m going back to Kansas City and I’ll contact you when I’m settled.

Marie

The storm bending the trees outside hadn’t compared to the one raging inside of him.

Frantic, Jesse had immediately called the nurse’s station in the Manhattan hospital, where their premature triplets had been in the NICU for the past two months. The nurse had verified that Marie hadn’t shown up that afternoon to sit with the girls.

He braved the weather to drive to the hospital anyway, hoping that his wife had had a change of heart and gone there instead of the airport.

She hadn’t.

Jesse stayed with his daughters the rest of the evening, waiting for a phone call. It wasn’t until one of the nurses on duty had asked him if his ranch was located near High Plains that he learned about the tornadoes.

Unable to get through to his hired hands or his sister, Maya, Jesse spent a sleepless night in the family lounge and most of the morning waiting for the state police to remove the barricades from the roads.

When he was finally able to return to the ranch, Jesse had gone from room to room, calling Marie’s name. Praying that news of the storm would have fanned an ember of concern in her heart and brought her home. If not for him, then for Madison, Brooke and Sasha.

At the thought of his precious girls, Jesse was struck by an overwhelming desire to hold them again.

“I have to get back to the hospital.” He pushed past Colt.

“Jesse, wait. Don’t be stubborn.” Colt put a restraining hand on his arm. “You’re in no shape to go anywhere. Let me call someone for you.”

He immediately thought of his younger brother, Clay, but he shook the image away. Colt was right. He wasn’t thinking clearly.

His sister, Maya, should have been the one who came to mind first. Not Clay. Clay had shirked his responsibility to the ranch and the family years ago.

If his brother hadn’t even bothered to call when Maya had told him Jesse’s triplets were struggling for their lives in the NICU, what made him think Clay would be here for him now?

In that respect, Marie and Clay had been alike. Both of them ran away when things got hard. Jesse knew it was up to him to pick up the pieces. Alone. Again.

He swallowed hard against the lump lodged in his throat. “I’ll call Maya,” he managed to rasp.

“Jesse…” Colt frowned.

Don’t say it, Jesse thought. His self-control was hanging by a thread. He couldn’t think about his own grief though, he had to think about the three babies he’d left sleeping peacefully in their cribs only a few hours ago. He had to keep it together. For his daughters.

As if Colt could read his mind, he nodded slowly. “I understand. And don’t worry about the…arrangements right now, Jess. Take as much time as you need.”

The automatic doors parted as Jesse reached the front of the building. He’d spent so much time at the hospital over the past eight weeks that many of the staff knew him by name. Two volunteer auxiliary workers stopped talking and nodded solemnly when he passed the information desk.

He’d only taken a few steps down the corridor when a man stepped out of the cafeteria and intercepted him.

“Jesse.”

Jesse froze at the sound of the familiar voice, although he barely recognized his father-in-law. The deep lines in Philip Banner’s face and the haunted look in his eyes told Jesse he already knew about Marie’s death.

Instinctively, Jesse extended his hand to grasp his father-in-law’s, but the man stepped away, rebuffing the overture.

Jesse flinched. Philip had never bothered to hide his disapproval. As one of the state’s leading prosecutors, Marie’s father had had high hopes his only child would marry well. A cattle rancher from Kansas didn’t fit his model of the ideal son-in-law. Philip and Sharon had kept in close touch with their daughter after the wedding, but barely acknowledged Jesse’s existence.

Jesse had hoped his in-laws would soften when they found out they were going to be grandparents, but if anything, the news had made them more resentful. Instead of anticipating the girls’ arrival, Sharon seemed to blame Jesse for Marie’s difficult pregnancy.

“Have you seen the girls yet?” It occurred to Jesse that Philip and Sharon may have come to the hospital for the same reason he had. To hold the triplets and try to find some comfort in knowing that a part of Marie lived on in her daughters.

Philip ignored the question. “Sharon and I need your permission to take Marie…” His voice cracked and he looked away, as if it were difficult to look Jesse in the eye.

Jesse stared at the man, unable to comprehend what he was asking. And then the truth hit him. They hadn’t shown up out of concern for Jesse. Or his baby girls. His in-laws had been close by because they’d been part of Marie’s exit plan. They’d probably made arrangements to meet her at the airport—to lend their support in case Jesse followed—before escorting her back to Kansas City.

“You want to take her—” Jesse couldn’t say the word body “—back to Kansas City?”

“We have a family plot in the cemetery.” Philip’s expression changed and now bitterness scored the words. “Marie never belonged here with you. You know that. Last week she called and asked us if she could come home. It’s where she wanted to be. It’s where she should be now.”

Home.

Jesse had a flashback of the day the obstetrician told them the ultrasound revealed they were expecting triplets.

Jesse’s initial shock had quickly changed to delight. He’d always wanted a large family. When it came right down to it, what difference did it make whether there were years or minutes between the births of their children?

And if he were honest with himself, he’d hoped that starting a family would ease the tension growing between them.

During their courtship, Marie claimed she couldn’t wait to have children, but after the wedding she’d avoided the topic. Jesse hadn’t minded it being just the two of them for a while, but Marie’s reaction when she’d found out she was pregnant had disturbed him. Overwhelmed, she’d started to cry and begged him to take her home.

He’d thought she meant the ranch.

Now, seeing the anger and grief on his father-in-law’s face, Jesse was forced to admit the truth behind Philip’s claim: Marie had never considered the ranch her home.

Jesse had lost his wife long before the tornado struck.

The words stuck in his throat but he pushed them out. “I’ll talk to the director at the funeral home. The two of you can work out the arrangements.”

Philip nodded curtly, pivoted and walked away without a backward glance. No thank-you. No mention of his granddaughters.

The little energy Jesse had left drained away. On emotional autopilot, he took the elevator to the NICU. When he reached the nursery, he heard someone singing softly to the girls.

But it wasn’t his sister.

Sitting beside the crib where his daughters slept was Lori Martin, the young, auburn-haired nurse he’d met once or twice. Jesse hadn’t gotten to know her as well as he had the other nurses, because her shift ended before he arrived to sit with the girls every evening.

The soft smile on Lori’s face and the expression in her eyes made Jesse’s chest tighten.

It wasn’t right.

Marie should have been the one singing to them. Loving them. And yet she’d left them…all of them.

Jesse’s fists clenched at his sides.

Marie was gone, but he had three reasons to live: his daughters. And Jesse decided to make sure no one would hurt them again.

Chapter One

December

“You could have given Maya some hope.”

Jesse stiffened at the sound of Clay’s quiet voice behind him.

The memory of their sister’s stricken expression had seared Jesse’s conscience. He knew he’d been out of line, but the last thing he needed was his younger brother beating him up about it.

He’d been doing a pretty good job of that all by himself.

“Maya’s been worried sick since Tommy ran away,” Clay pointed out. “All she needed was to hear you say you’d find her son and bring him home.”

“I did say that.”

“‘I’ll bring him home either way, Maya.’” Clay’s voice deepened—an exaggerated imitation of Jesse’s low baritone—as he recited the words Jesse had spoken just before leaving the house. “In my opinion, you could have left two little words out of that promise.”

“I don’t remember asking for your opinion.” Jesse tightened the cinch on Saber’s saddle before leading the gelding from the stall. “Is it fair to give Maya false hope?”

“Now, are you asking my opinion?”

Jesse scowled. Since Clay’s unexpected return to High Plains a month ago, his brother claimed to have changed. Jesse didn’t believe it for a second. Not when Clay still managed to get to him like a burr under a saddle blanket.

“Maya needed encouragement. Would it have been so hard to give her some instead of being…Mr. Gloom and Doom?”

Jesse felt the sting of the insult. “You’re telling me what Maya needs?”

“I know I messed up by leaving.” Clay met his gaze. “But that’s all in the past now.”

“How convenient.”

Clay’s jaw tightened, the only outward sign that Jesse’s words had found their mark. “If I remember correctly, you were always the glass half-full guy in the family.”

That was before his glass got tipped over—and stepped on.

“I can’t tell Maya that Tommy’s all right if I don’t know it’s true.” Jesse wanted to believe they’d find Tommy safe and sound. The whole family—Jesse included—had embraced the precocious little boy. Even before Maya had married Gregory Garrison, and they’d started formal adoption proceedings, Tommy had become part of the family. As far as Jesse was concerned, signing the adoption papers was merely a formality. He’d been “Uncle Jesse” for months.

But he had to deal with facts, whether anyone else wanted to or not. And the facts—that Tommy was only six years old and had been missing for three days—didn’t exactly tip the balance in their favor.

When they’d discovered Tommy had run away, volunteer search parties formed immediately, to comb the area. Colt Ridgeway even arranged for a search-and-rescue dog to aid in the effort. But the ranch’s vast acreage—ordinarily a source of pride for Jesse—had worked against them.

After Tommy disappeared, Maya had taken a quick inventory and found that he’d taken some food, his coat and a backpack. The discovery had eased their minds—for the first twenty-four hours. But as resourceful as the little guy had proven to be, a coat wasn’t enough to ward off the December wind penetrating the sheepskin lining of Jesse’s jacket. And food eventually ran out….

Jesse decided to change the subject before he said something else he might regret. “Be sure to tell Nicki that I appreciate her willingness to watch the triplets again today, while I look for Tommy.”

“She knows.” There was a glint in Clay’s eyes. “And don’t you mean while we look for Tommy?”

Jesse stepped out of the barn and stopped short at the sight of Sundance, an ornery pinto mare, saddled up and ready to go. Her pinned ears let him know she wasn’t very happy about the situation.

He hesitated, tempted to change his plan in order to watch Sundance send his brother into orbit. Maybe another time. “You remember the lay of the land. It would make sense for you to take another group out.”

“It might,” Clay agreed. “But I’m going with you.”

“I’ll make better time by myself.”

A shadow crossed Clay’s face, but then he shrugged. “Even the Lone Ranger had Tonto.”

“And Edgar Bergen had Charlie McCarthy,” Jesse muttered.

“Do I need to remind you that I’m a grown man and ‘you’re not the boss of me’ anymore?”

Hearing the familiar quip made Jesse’s lips twitch. Clay had hurled those words at him frequently while growing up. There was a reason he’d wanted to break away from the rest of the search parties and go it alone. But for some reason, Jesse found himself giving in.

The gleam of laughter in his brother’s eyes brought back memories of a time when they’d actually been at ease in each other’s company. Before Clay dove into teenage rebellion and turned his back on everything Jesse believed in.

They’d come to an uneasy truce at Thanksgiving, when Clay asked if he could move back to the ranch. Jesse guessed the request had something to do with the lovesick look in his brother’s eye whenever his new fiancée, Nicki Appleton, came into view, but some things were hard to let go of. Clay had walked away from his birthright once before. What was to say he wouldn’t do it again?

As they passed the house, Jesse saw Maya step out onto the wide front porch. Regret sawed against his conscience again. Not because he’d spoken the truth but because it had hurt his sister.

“Give her some hope,” Clay had said.

How could Jesse explain that he and hope had parted company six months ago? If the road to hope led to disappointment, what was the point?

By the time they reached the gate, Maya was waiting for them.

Jesse had to force himself to look his sister in the eye. When he did, the light he saw shining there was a far cry from the worry that had darkened those eyes earlier.

“Michael just called.” Maya no longer referred to the minister of High Plains Community Church—her new husband’s cousin—by his formal title. “He and Heather Waters are organizing a candlelight prayer vigil for Tommy this evening. He said the people who can’t physically join in the search felt led to join together and pray. I know you and Clay are going to find him today, Jesse. I can feel it. God is going to show you the way.”

Jesse tried to hide his frustration. Maya’s faith had always been her North Star, pointing toward the truth. Not too long ago, his sister’s unwavering conviction would have challenged him. Strengthened him. But now the only thing her words stirred inside of Jesse were the ashes of what remained of his dreams.

“Keep believing, Maya.” Clay came up alongside her. He leaned over the saddle and pulled her into his arms, ruffling her hair as if she were Tommy’s age. “God knows exactly where Tommy is. And you’re right. We’re going to find him. By nine o’clock tonight you’ll be tucking him into bed.”

Jesse wanted to put a muzzle on his brother. How could Clay get Maya’s hopes up like that? Was he the only person in Kansas who was willing to face things the way they were, instead of the way he wanted them to be?

Maya aimed a grateful look at Clay and her smile came out in full force. For the first time in three days.

Jesse clicked his tongue and Saber agreeably stepped forward. The minute they passed through the gate, he nudged the gelding into a canter.

Unfortunately, Clay caught up to him before Jesse’s temper had time to cool. “Was that really necessary?”

Clay didn’t pretend to misunderstand him. “Yes.”

“You shouldn’t let her hope for the best.”

“And you shouldn’t let her imagine the worst,” Clay retorted.

Hadn’t they already had this conversation?

Jesse wondered if they’d ever see eye to eye on anything.

He tamped down his anger, bit his tongue and forced himself to focus on the reason he’d teamed up with Clay in the first place.

Tommy.

After the boy disappeared, the county sheriff had organized the search, dividing up Jesse’s property on a map and assigning each group of volunteers a certain section. Given Tommy’s age and size, they’d started close to the ranch house and gradually expanded the search to include the hills and grazing land.

The teams had met back at the ranch after a fruitless search earlier that morning, and when the sheriff instructed everyone to recheck the areas they’d already searched, a shiver of unease had skated through Jesse.

Staring down at the map, he had had an overwhelming urge to scrap the grid and go with his gut. And his gut told him not to waste time covering the same ground again.

He just hadn’t expected his brother to tag along.

They rode in silence until Jesse turned his horse down a worn cow path.

“Where are we going?”

“The river,” Jesse replied curtly.

To his surprise, his prodigal brother followed without a peep. Accustomed to Clay chafing every time Jesse took the lead, he found he couldn’t let that slide. “No argument? No ‘do you really think a kid Tommy’s age could have made it that far on his own’?”

“You did.”

Jesse twisted around in the saddle to stare at his brother.

“It’s a long shot,” Clay continued. “I mean, you went to the cave on horseback and Tommy is on foot.”

Jesse’s mouth dropped open. “Cave?”

“Oh, don’t look so surprised. It wasn’t much of a secret. I followed you there all the time.”

“You followed me.” Jesse couldn’t believe it. He’d been certain the secret hiding place he’d discovered had actually been a secret.

The ranch had been his playground as a child, and he’d explored every inch of it. And not always with his parents’ permission or his siblings’ knowledge, either. At least, he thought it had been without his siblings’ knowledge.

“Of course I did.” Clay’s shoulder lifted in a casual shrug. “But I knew you wanted to be alone, so I let you think you were.”

Wanted to be alone…

Bits and pieces of a conversation he’d had with Tommy suddenly trickled through Jesse’s memory like the beginning of a rock slide. And then it all came crashing back.

Thanksgiving Day, Tommy had complained that Layla, Maya’s three-year-old daughter, was always following him. In the name of male bonding, Jesse had sympathized and told Tommy that his irritation was perfectly normal. He confided that as a boy he also had times when he needed to get away from his younger sister and brother.

“Did you go to your room and lock the door?” Tommy had asked.

Jesse had laughed at the question. He and Clay had always shared a bedroom, so there’d been no privacy there.

That’s when he mentioned his favorite “thinking spot” had been a secret cave, its location marked by a strange U-shaped tree whose roots formed the ceiling of the hideaway.

Jesse’s mouth suddenly felt as dry as dust. What he’d failed to mention to Tommy was that the last time he’d checked the cave—about five years ago—it had collapsed.

“Jesse? What’s wrong?”

Instead of answering, Jesse urged Saber down the hill.

“I really appreciate you helping out at the last minute, Lori.”

“I’m glad you called.” Lori Martin flashed a quick smile in Nicki Appleton’s direction as she peeled off her coat and hung it on a colorful, rainbow-shaped wall peg. “I worked today and missed the e-mail about the prayer vigil.”

“Reverend Garrison pulled it together pretty quickly, but when I offered to oversee the nursery tonight, I had no idea there’d be such a large turnout.” Nicki smiled and blew a wisp of curly blond hair out of her eyes. “I definitely have my hands full in here. I’ll give you a choice, though, since you came to my rescue tonight. Do you want to give the triplets their bottles or play demolition derby with the boys over there in the corner?”

The triplets.

Instinctively Lori moved toward the three infant seats arranged in a semicircle on the floor where Nicki sat. Sure enough, there were the Logan girls, a trio of adorable little blossoms dressed in various shades of pink.

She hadn’t seen them since October, when she’d volunteered to take a turn in the nursery during the morning worship service. She’d been thrilled at how much the girls had changed—but a little taken aback that the strong connection she’d felt for them hadn’t.

As a nurse who provided specialized care for premature infants, Lori walked a fine line between providing the best care possible while not letting herself get too emotionally attached. But from the moment she’d witnessed those tiny girls in the incubator, she’d fallen in love.

Maybe it was because Marie Logan, the babies’ mother, had spent more time sipping coffee and flipping through magazines in the family lounge than she had sitting next to her daughters’ cribs.

Lori tried to be understanding. It was never easy for a new mother to be released from the hospital and have to leave her children behind. But right from the beginning, Marie seemed to be consumed with her own needs rather than the needs of her daughters. She treated the nursing staff as if they were her personal servants, and her constant criticism frequently brought the aides to tears.

At the end of one particularly stressful morning, Lori took Marie aside and asked if she could pray with her. Marie’s bitter response chilled her.

“The reason I’m here is because God is punishing me for my mistakes. It’s not like He’s going to listen to anything I have to say.”

Before Lori had a chance to convince Marie that wasn’t true, the woman had fled from the room. Several days later, Marie’s body was recovered in the wreckage from the tornado.

Rumors flew around the pediatric ward that Marie had left her husband and the babies shortly before the tornado struck High Plains. Lori didn’t want to believe it, but the day Jesse Logan had arrived to take the triplets home, she’d seen the truth etched in the deep lines fanning out from his eyes.

Midnight-blue eyes that were a perfect match to the ones staring solemnly up at her.

“I’ll feed the triplets.” Lori reached for Sasha and was rewarded with a beautiful heart-melting baby grin.

Only three and a half pounds at birth, Sasha had been the smallest of the trio. She’d also fought the hardest to survive.

By the time Sasha left the hospital—a full week after her two sisters—she’d stolen the hearts of the entire nursing staff.

“Are you sure?” Nicki raised a teasing brow. “They remind me of a nest of baby birds who all want their dinner at the same time.”

“I help, too.” A bright-eyed, pajama-clad toddler drifted over and hugged Nicki’s arm.

“That’s the truth.” Nicki gave her foster daughter an affectionate squeeze. “Kasey has been a big help with the babies over the past few days.”

Lori grinned as Sasha latched on to the bottle with both hands, as if she hadn’t eaten for days. “When did you start taking care of the Logans?”

“It’s not permanent. I’ve been helping out with the girls while Clay and Jesse look for Tommy Jacobs.” Nicki’s expression clouded. “That’s why they organized the prayer vigil tonight. He’s been missing for three days and…it’s taking a toll on the family.”

Lori imagined that was an understatement. She’d heard about Tommy through the prayer chain at High Plains Community and wasn’t surprised to learn that Maya’s older brothers had taken an active role in looking for their nephew. Or that the entire congregation had reached out to the family.

“I don’t mind helping Jesse out when he needs a sitter now and then, but between Kasey and my job at the preschool, I have my hands full,” Nicki continued. “I’m not sure who is going to take over and be Nanny Number Six.”

Lori’s attention, which had been irresistibly drawn to Sasha’s tiny fingers, snapped back to Nicki.

Number six?

“Are you saying that Jesse Logan has gone through five nannies?”

“In five months.” Nicki nodded. “That has to be some kind of record.”

Lori silently agreed. And she couldn’t believe the five nannies had all been at fault. Anyone taking on the enormous responsibility of caring for triplets—and premature ones at that—would accept the job with a clear understanding of the challenges they would face.

What had happened?

A sudden image of the handsome but stern-faced rancher flashed in Lori’s mind. She couldn’t imagine Jesse being an easy man to work for.

“The last nanny Jesse fired had only been at the ranch for forty-eight hours,” Nicki continued. “She put in an application at the preschool where I teach, but was embarrassed to tell the director why Jesse had let her go. Apparently, he had a problem with the bedtime songs she sang to the triplets.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I wish I were.” Nicki sighed. “Anyway, the word is out, and no one has responded to the classified ad Jesse put in the newspaper for the last two weeks. Clay and I are praying that the right woman comes along. Soon.”

A memory stirred in Lori’s mind but she immediately pushed it aside. It bounced back.

Not a good sign.

The day after the tornado, she’d been called in early to cover another nurse’s shift. Everyone was shaken by the news of the devastation, and with tears in her eyes, one of the nurses whispered to Lori that she’d heard Marie Logan had died.

Lori knew the triplets had no comprehension that their lives had been irrevocably changed, but she’d gone to them immediately. And while she sat next to the crib and sang to the girls, she’d felt someone’s presence in the room.

Jesse stood in the doorway, watching her.

She’d wanted to comfort him—to tell him she was praying for him—but the hard look in his eyes warned her that he wouldn’t welcome any sympathy.

As Lori slipped out of the room, she’d asked God to let her know if there was a way she could help the Logan family.

Had He waited five months to give her an answer?

Chapter Two

Discouragement gnawed at Jesse as he paused to survey the barren landscape. The frontline winds that had spawned the funnel cloud in July had left their mark on this end of the property, too.

“Jess—wait a second.”

Jesse glanced back and saw Clay dismount and reach for something in the brush.

Jesse’s heart kicked against his chest. Ever since the tornado, he’d been searching for the heirloom engagement ring Marie had left on the kitchen table that day. He’d found the soggy remains of the note and her wedding band in the rubble, but there’d been no sign of the diamond.

Several times a week for the past five months, Maya faithfully checked the community Lost and Found to see if anyone had turned it in. Reverend Garrison had even made a special announcement during one of the community meetings to let everyone know how much the ring meant to the Logan family. One weekend, he’d even brought his teenage niece, Avery, and a small volunteer crew from the youth group out to the ranch to comb a section of the property for missing items.

“I can’t believe how far a twister can carry little things like this,” Clay remarked, examining something in his palm.

“What is it?” If Clay had found the ring, he’d have told Jesse right away. Silently, Jesse berated himself for giving hope a temporary foothold.

Hadn’t he learned that particular lesson already?

“A key chain…with a whistle on it.”

Jesse was at his brother’s side in two strides. “Let me see that.”

Clay’s eyebrow shot up. “It’s yours?”

Jesse stared at the piece of plastic cradled in his brother’s palm. “It’s Tommy’s.”

“The tornado dropped it this far from town?”

The tornado. Or Tommy.

On a hunch, Jesse raised the whistle to his lips and blew.

Clay winced. “Making sure it still works?”

“Shh.” For a moment, Jesse thought he’d imagined the faint cry woven into the wind. But Clay’s sharp inhale told Jesse he’d heard it, too.

“Uncle J-Jesse?” The roots of an overturned tree moved and a familiar freckled face poked out.

When Tommy saw the two men standing there, he scrambled out of his hiding spot and barreled toward them.

Jesse swung the boy up into his arms and Tommy burst into tears.

As Clay radioed the good news to the deputy in charge of the search, Jesse settled Tommy in the saddle in front of him and buttoned him into his coat. The boy’s ragged sigh shook his thin frame and went straight through Jesse.

He still couldn’t believe that Tommy had managed to stumble upon the collapsed cave.

When the tornado had chewed its way across the property, it upended the tree that had once marked the cave’s location, but created an opening large enough for a six-year-old boy to squeeze into. Sheltering him not only from the elements but from any predators lurking in the area.

Clay had murmured something about answered prayer. Jesse hadn’t argued the point. Maybe God had stopped listening to him, but at least He had heard Maya. At the moment, Jesse could be grateful for that.

“Are you sure Mom…Maya…and G-Greg aren’t mad at me?” The words were muffled but Jesse could hear the undercurrent of worry in Tommy’s voice.

Jesse frowned. Tommy had been calling Maya and his brother-in-law “Mom and Dad” for the past few months.

“I’m sure. They’ve been worried about you….” His throat tightened. They’d all been worried about him. “And they’re going to be happy to know that you’re okay.”

“Even if I did sumpthin’ bad?”

“What do you mean?”

“I made Layla cry. Not on purpose,” Tommy added quickly. “But I don’t think they believed me. And then I heard Maya tell you there’s a problem with the ’doption. I know what that means. There’s a problem with me.”

Jesse sucked in a breath. No one could figure out why Tommy had run away from home, but now it all made sense. He’d overheard part of a conversation Jesse had had with Maya.

“Believe me, Tommy, that’s not what she meant. Everyone loves you—you’re part of the family.”

“For real?” Tommy’s chin tilted toward Jesse and the dirt-smudged face brightened.

“For real. The problem with the adoption isn’t you, champ. The problem is that it isn’t going as fast as Maya and Greg would like it to,” Jesse explained. “Trust me. They can’t wait for you to be their little boy.”

Tommy snuggled against him. “We better get back so she isn’t worried anymore. I’m glad you came, Uncle Jesse. I was getting kinda cold. And I ran out of—” he battled a yawn “—peanut butter.”

“They found him.” Nicki picked up Kasey and twirled her around in the middle of the room, much to the toddler’s delight. “Clay just called my cell phone. Tommy is fine. Tired and hungry, but fine. Maya and Greg are meeting Jesse at home.”

Lori closed her eyes and offered a silent prayer of thanks.

“I’m going to sneak into the service and tell Reverend Garrison so he can announce the good news.” Nicki spun one more wobbly pirouette as she glided toward the doorway with Kasey in her arms. “Thanks for staying to help, Lori. I’m sure you had other plans for the evening. Plans that didn’t include total chaos!”

Lori smiled but didn’t confess that total chaos was a welcome change from her silent apartment, a bowl of pretzels and the latest cozy mystery she’d picked up at the grocery store checkout.

While Nicki entertained Kasey and the other children throughout the evening, Lori devoted her attention to the triplets.

Brooke and Madison had taken their bottles and had eventually fallen asleep, but Sasha was clearly a night owl. The baby remained wide-awake, content to cuddle in Lori’s lap as they put several miles on the rocking chair.

Lori, who held and cared for babies all day, couldn’t ignore the deep connection she felt with the triplets. Several times during the course of the evening, Nicki had commented on how comfortable they seemed to be with her.

It seemed unlikely they would remember her….

Lori glanced down and met Sasha’s solemn gaze.

If she didn’t know better, she’d think that Sasha was reminding her of the promise she made to God that day.

It wasn’t exactly a promise. More like an…offer.

A suggestion, really.

“I love my job at the hospital,” Lori murmured out loud. “They need me.”

Sasha, who’d been cheerful most of the evening, suddenly let loose a heart-wrenching whimper.

The timing of which had to be an absolute coincidence, Lori decided.

“Oh, no, you don’t. That’s not fair.” She lifted Sasha higher in her arms, nuzzling the rose-kissed cheek. Encouraged by the baby’s soft chortle of laughter, Lori closed her eyes and planted a trail of noisy kisses up the baby’s pudgy arm.

Sasha’s tiny feet began to pedal rapidly inside the flannel blanket.

“Oh, really? I can find little toes, too, so you better—”

A door to the nursery snapped shut and Lori’s eyes flew open.

And there stood Jesse Logan.

His sharp, blue-eyed gaze flickered over the infant seats near Lori’s feet where Brooke and Madison slept, before moving to Sasha, who recognized her daddy and gurgled happily, waving her arms to get his attention.

Lori gave Sasha points for bravery.

How—for even a split second—could she have entertained the notion that God wanted her to be Nanny Number Six?

Jesse didn’t look like a man who needed anyone’s help.

Although there was no getting around the fact that the man was extremely handsome, the set of his jaw didn’t look as though it allowed much movement—and certainly not on something as frivolous as a smile. The silky fringe of dark hair beneath his Stetson didn’t soften features that looked as if they’d been sculpted by the elements.

“Mr. Logan.” Lori rose to her feet, gently trying to disengage her shirt from Sasha’s grip.

There was a spark of recognition in his eyes.

A thought suddenly occurred to Lori, and she lifted her free hand to her hair for a quick, exploratory search. At one point during the evening, Kasey had clipped a pink elephant barrette on the end of Lori’s braid.

Yup. Still there.

Lori suddenly wished she hadn’t run home to exchange her scrubs for faded jeans and a sweatshirt. At the hospital, there’d been a professional boundary in place. Jesse Logan—patients’ father; Lori Martin—nurse.

But now? Now she was simply a Good Samaritan. A Good Samaritan whose hair was in a tangle from being tugged on by—count them—six little hands all evening. And then Kasey had added her own special touch.

“Where is Nicki?” Jesse’s loose-limbed stride carried him across the room in less than two seconds.

Now he stood close enough for Lori to pick up the subtle, earthy scent of wind and leather that clung to his coat.

Lori wasn’t petite by any standards, but she had to tip her chin up to look at him. His height was a little intimidating. And so was his expression.

Instinctively, she tightened her hold on Sasha.

“Nicki is talking to Reverend Garrison. My name is on the sub list for the church nursery, so she asked if I was free to help her watch the children this evening.” Lori wasn’t a babbler by nature, but there was something unnerving about being with a man who didn’t waste words. Not to mention a man who didn’t seem to like to use them, either. “I don’t know if you remember, but we met—”

“I remember you.”

Okay, then.

Lori tried again. “The girls have really grown.” She couldn’t prevent a chuckle. “But they haven’t changed all that much, have they?”

Jesse’s finger flicked the brim of his cowboy hat, pushing it up. The movement chased the shadows away, revealing the full impact of cobalt-blue eyes set in a face stained a deep golden brown from the sun.

“What do you mean?” Those eyes narrowed and Lori realized he’d taken her comment as a criticism. “Their pediatrician says they’re developing on schedule.”

“I meant their personalities,” Lori explained, wondering if she’d just witnessed the same look the five nannies had seen moments before they’d been fired.

No wonder he was having a difficult time filling the position!

“Brooke still lets you know that she wants something yesterday.” She smiled down at the baby, who continued to move restlessly even in sleep. “And you know Madison is going to be the peacemaker of the group. When Brooke started crying tonight, Madison offered her own thumb to calm her down. And Sasha’s quiet, but she takes in everything around her—”

“You can tell them apart?”

Lori blinked at the terse interruption. “Can’t you?”

“Of course I can.” Clearly offended, Jesse swept off his hat and tunneled his hand through his hair. “Maddie is bald, Brooke has a birthmark on her left shoulder blade and Sasha is the smallest.”

Lori stared at him in amazement. He’d zeroed in on some of the triplets’ physical characteristics.

Didn’t the man realize his daughters had three very distinct personalities? Temperaments?

Needs?

It suddenly became important for Lori to make Jesse understand.

“It’s not just what they look like on the outside. Madison loves to be cuddled but Brooke doesn’t have the patience for it. My guess is that she’ll be the first one to crawl. Sasha is attracted to color and motion….”

Lori’s voice broke off as Jesse dropped to one knee in front of Madison’s infant seat.

Conversation over.

She’d lost him. It suddenly occurred to Lori that Jesse Logan was probably the type of man whose entire life revolved around his ranch. A man who believed that providing food and a roof over their heads made him a good father to his daughters.

The second-shift nurses had all raved about Jesse’s devotion to his children because he’d shown up at the NICU every night. That didn’t prove anything to Lori. Sitting beside their cribs could have simply been one more thing for Jesse Logan to check off his to-do list. A duty instead of an act of love.

They’ll need more, Lori wanted to protest. So much more.

Jesse’s indifference raked over debris from her past and scraped up old memories. Memories that Lori thought had long been put to rest.

“What do you want from me, Roxanne? I said I’d own up to my responsibility and I did…but that doesn’t mean I have to pretend to be happy about it….”

Lori swallowed hard and tried to shut out her father’s voice, shaken that the words sounded as clear as if he’d spoken them the day before, instead of fifteen years ago.

The room began to shrink and Lori felt an overwhelming urge to escape.

“I’ll find Nicki.” With Sasha still in her arms, Lori headed toward the door.

She wasn’t surprised when Jesse didn’t respond.

Emotions churned inside of her. How could she leave the triplets, when they needed someone who would lavish attention and love on them?

When they needed her.

She made her decision. Pausing in the doorway, she turned and looked over her shoulder…

Just in time to see Jesse cup his hands over his mouth and blow on his fingers. Warming them.

Lori’s breath caught in her throat.

And that’s when she saw it. The subtle sway of his body before he managed to balance his weight on the heels of his boots. The slight dip of his shoulders beneath the heavy coat.

Exhaustion.

The bone-deep kind that sucked away a person’s energy—chiseled holes in their perspective. The kind that stole a person’s ability to think.

And talk.

Lori’s feet felt rooted to the floor and her heart began to pound. “Mr. Logan?”

Jesse’s head snapped up and once again his face looked as if it had been carved out of stone.

Lori hoped she wouldn’t live to regret her next words.

“Are you still looking for a nanny?”

Jesse tried not to let his frustration show.

Of course Lori Martin had heard he was looking for a new nanny. The entire population of High Plains probably knew he was looking for a new nanny.

He’d fired two or three—okay, so maybe it had been five—although he wasn’t sure if he could count the last one. Just when he’d opened his mouth to say the words you’re fired, she’d beaten him to the punch and informed him that she quit. But did that mean he deserved to be treated like a pariah? The last time he’d gone to the newspaper to put in an ad for another caregiver, the woman behind the reception desk had actually laughed. Laughed.

Was it his fault that none of the nannies he’d hired had been able to do the job properly?

His sweet-tempered sister’s popularity had opened the door to a few favors. But so far, nothing permanent.

He’d been grateful to Nicki for agreeing to watch the triplets over the past few days while they searched for Tommy, but she had her hands full with Kasey, the active toddler she’d recently been granted permission to adopt.

Clay had offered to shoulder more responsibility in the mornings so Jesse could drive the girls to a day care in High Plains, but that was his last resort. And he had to make that decision in about six hours.

Pride stopped him from letting anyone see how desperate he was. Especially the young, brown-eyed nurse who’d managed to coax a belly laugh out of somber little Sasha.

He could still hear the lilt of Lori’s laughter, mingled with his daughter’s, as he’d stood outside the door of the church nursery. It had rolled over him with the warmth of a spring breeze. And the sight of her raining kisses on Sasha’s chubby arm affected Jesse more than he cared to admit.

“That’s right.” The words sounded curt, even to his own ears, but it was the best he could do.

Small talk was simply beyond his capability at the moment.

Three days of searching for Tommy, in addition to keeping up with his regular chores and getting up with the triplets during the night, had begun to take its toll. His limbs felt as if they’d been replaced with wet concrete.

Lori Martin lingered in the doorway and Jesse wished she’d go away. And not because his gaze strayed to the soft tendrils of sunset-red hair that had escaped from her braid. Or because Sasha looked perfectly content to remain in the woman’s arms.

Nope. Because he was practically dead on his feet and didn’t need any witnesses to the fact. Someone who would report back to Nicki. Who’d report to Clay. Who’d report to Maya….

He had an idea. As much as Lori Martin obviously loved children, he knew exactly what would make her beat a hasty retreat.

“I didn’t realize you were interested in the position. When can you start?” Jesse injected just enough sarcasm to scare her off. And let her know exactly what he thought about people gossiping about him.

Lori Martin met his gaze. And smiled sweetly.

“Right now.”

Chapter Three

You’re hired.

Those two simple words echoed in Lori’s mind as she reached the end of the long dirt road, and the car’s headlights illuminated a turn-of-the-century two-story house with a stone foundation.

Jesse’s house.

Maybe she should leave the engine running.

Lori hadn’t expected Jesse to turn cartwheels at her impulsive offer the night before, but his cool response had her questioning her decision. And her sanity.

I can do all things through Him who strengthens me.

The verse in Philippians she’d read during her devotional time that morning filtered through her panic and calmed what some people would have called “the butterflies” in her stomach. To Lori, it felt more like a herd of mustangs had taken up residence there.

She took a deep breath and turned off the ignition.

The front door opened and Jesse stepped onto the porch, his lean, broad-shouldered frame backlit by the soft glow from the window.

He’d been waiting for her.

Lori got out of the car, tempted to leave her suitcase in the trunk. Just in case.

I can do all things through Christ, Lori reminded herself. All things.

She’d made a promise to the girls—and to God—and she intended to keep it.

Scraping up her courage, Lori popped the trunk and wrestled her suitcase out. She took a step back and smacked into something warm and solid.

“I can take this.” Jesse’s fingers closed over the handle and brushed against hers as he took control of the suitcase.

The chilly morning air was making her shiver. Had to be that….

“Thank you.” The mustangs had multiplied, but Lori forced a smile.

“Is this all you have?” She sensed a scowl in the darkness.

“I packed what I needed to get me through the next few days.” If she lasted that long. “My rental came furnished, but I plan to pick up the rest my things later in the week.”

Jesse acknowledged her words with a curt nod as he retraced his steps back to the house.

Did the man know how to smile?

All things…

The verse dissolved like sugar in water as Lori followed Jesse inside and caught her first glimpse of her new home.

“You can go on in.” Jesse’s gruff prompt encouraged her to take another step forward.

A reluctant step forward.

It was obvious that two bachelor ranchers and three babies equaled chaos.

Jesse coughed as he ushered her into the living room. “The place is a little…neglected. I had a housekeeper. Up until last week.”

So. He’d fired her, too.

Which explained why the room looked as if the tornado had gone through his house the day before, instead of five months ago.

Bright plastic toys were scattered like confetti from one end of the room to the other. Laundry—men’s faded chambray work shirts mixed in with tiny, colorful sleepers—lay draped over the three infant swings lined up in front of the window.

And what was that smell?

Lori took a few more steps forward and something crunched beneath her foot. Glancing down, she saw the remains of a pretzel ground into the carpet.

“The housekeeper did most of the cooking, too.” Jesse discreetly swiped up a sock and crossed his arms to hide it from view.

Not that they’d had much time to talk about her specific duties yet, but it would have been nice if Jesse had mentioned she would be in charge, not only of the triplets, but of the entire household.

“I started asking around to find someone else, but…” His voice trailed off and Lori filled in the blanks.

Your former nannies spread the word about you.

The former nannies he’d apparently fired without a qualm.

But Madison, Brooke and Sasha needed her, so Lori was determined not to start off the day—let alone the first fifteen minutes—on the wrong foot.

“Don’t worry about it. I don’t mind cooking,” she said cheerfully. “I make the best eggplant Parmesan you’ve ever tasted.”

“Eggplant…” Jesse frowned. “I don’t think I’ve ever tried that.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’d remember if you had. It’s delicious. In fact, it’s considered a staple in a vegetarian diet.” But probably missing from the menu of a certain cattle rancher.

“Vege—” Jesse choked on the rest of the word. “You’re a…vegetarian?”

Lori waited a beat, hoping he’d realize he was being teased. It would prove a sense of humor lurked somewhere below that serious demeanor. “No.”

Jesse frowned.

Apparently not. “I was kidding.”

“Kidding?” Jesse repeated the word suspiciously.

“Making a joke….” Never mind.

“Right.” Jesse continued to stare at her, and Lori wondered if, in spite of her best intentions, she was going to break her predecessor’s forty-eight-hour record. Abruptly, Jesse turned away. “I’ll show you to your room. The girls are still asleep, but I guess that’s not a surprise, considering how late they went to bed last night.”

Lori envied them. She’d stared at the ceiling for hours, asking God if she’d made the right decision.

It wasn’t as if she were a risk-taker by nature. And considering Jesse Logan’s track record with the triplets’ former nannies, one might argue that taking the job definitely put her in that category.

After she’d helped Jesse bundle the girls into their snowsuits the night before, Lori told him that she’d be there by six-thirty the next morning. She didn’t know much about ranching but assumed Jesse’s day started at sunup. The mixture of relief and gratitude in his eyes told her that she’d guessed correctly.

Fortunately, Lori had the day off from her job at the hospital, which would give her time to contact the personnel department at the hospital and talk to Janet, her supervisor.

Another factor that had proven God was at work in the situation. In fact, the longer Lori had thought and prayed about it, the more she realized that seemingly small and insignificant details now looked like signposts, directing her down a different path than the one she’d been on.

She wouldn’t have known Jesse was looking for a nanny if Nicki hadn’t called and asked for her help in the church nursery the night before. And just last week, Lori’s landlady mentioned her niece had moved back to High Plains and needed a place to stay. She asked if Lori wanted to renew her lease, which was due the second week in December. Lori had told her that she planned to stay—but the lease agreement remained on her desk, still unsigned. Lori couldn’t help but think that her landlady would be happy to offer the unit to a family member.

Even if Lori believed in coincidences—which she didn’t—it would have been impossible to ignore the verse she’d read during her devotional time—the one she’d memorized while packing her suitcase. The one she silently repeated as she wove through a maze of baby jumpers and followed Jesse to the second floor.

A spacious landing opened up at the top of the stairs, and Jesse turned down the hallway to the left.

“You can have the room that adjoins the nursery.” His husky voice dropped to a whisper as he nudged the door open.

Lori braced herself, ready to pretend to be enthusiastic.

Only, this time she didn’t have to pretend.

The color scheme was a serene combination of subdued ivory, sage-green and a vibrant shade of blue that reminded Lori of Jesse’s eyes….

The sky, she quickly corrected the errant thought. It reminded her of the sky.

She ventured farther into the room, aware that Jesse had put her suitcase down and moved aside to allow her to explore.

A queen-size antique four-poster bed, covered by a double wedding-ring quilt, dominated the room. Hand-hooked wool rugs had been strategically placed in front of the matching nightstands and the window. All places where bare feet might linger.

A sepia-toned photo of a man and woman held a prominent place on the wall above the headboard. Instead of staring somberly at the camera, typical for photographs taken during that era, the young couple was smiling at each other.

“My ancestors, Will and Emmeline Logan.” Jesse stood beside her and Lori’s heart did that crazy skip-hop thing again. “Will and Zeb Garrison founded High Plains in 1858, and Will married Emmeline a few years after that.”

Lori forced herself to concentrate on the photo instead of the appealing, masculine scent of the man standing beside her.

More than a hundred years separated the two men, and yet the family resemblance was uncanny. Will Logan had the same bone structure—angular jaw and deep-set eyes—but his smile held a hint of mischief. “Was it your great-grandfather who started the Circle L?”

Jesse nodded. “He built the house for Emmeline. The ranch has been run by one of their descendants ever since.”

Lori felt a stab of envy. What would it feel like to be part of such a strong family line? To share a legacy that had bonded its members together for more than a hundred years?

Her own family had splintered and fallen apart the summer after Lori had graduated from high school.

“It’s beautiful,” she murmured. “You must feel very blessed.”

“Not everyone would agree with your opinion.” Jesse pivoted sharply on his heel. “I’ll show you the rest of the house and then I have to get to work. Clay is probably already in the barn waiting for me.”

Lori found herself staring at his retreating back.

Not everyone would agree…

Agree with what? That his home was beautiful—or that he’d been blessed?

The headache that had anchored its claws in the back of Jesse’s skull during the night finally worked its way around to his temples.

He hadn’t expected Lori Martin’s innocent questions to bring back an avalanche of memories…and regrets.

Marie had never described the house as beautiful. The first time she visited she labeled it “quaint,” and Jesse, who’d taken it as a compliment, remembered thanking her. But several months after the wedding, she’d complained the rooms were too small and she felt cramped without adequate storage space. Without discussing it with him first, she’d talked to her father. Philip not only had an architect draw up a new blueprint, but then generously offered to pay the expenses so they could build something more suited to their style.

What Marie didn’t understand was that the ranch was Jesse’s style.

And he thought it had been hers.

Memories lapped against the walls Jesse had shored up around his heart.

The truth was, both of them had assumed a lot about each other.

They’d met at a rodeo, when Marie had come to town on what she described as a “girls’ getaway” weekend. She sat down next to Jesse on the makeshift bleachers, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she told him that her friends had dared her to kiss a cowboy.

Unable to resist her charming smile, Jesse planted his favorite Stetson on Marie’s head and kissed her on the cheek instead, surprised at his own boldness.

They had dinner that evening. And the next.

Marie extended her weekend stay to an entire week. When she finally left, she took Jesse’s heart with her. After more than ten years of pouring his heart and soul into making the ranch a success, he’d been ready for someone to share it with.

Jesse had always been the levelheaded one when it came to life and relationships, but in spite of Maya’s reservations, he proposed to Marie on Valentine’s Day and they married less than six months later.

Unfortunately, it hadn’t taken long for Jesse to realize that Marie had a romanticized, Hollywood view about life on a ranch. Emergencies ignited like brush fires, and as the owner of the Circle L, it was Jesse’s responsibility to put them out. Night or day. Marie started to resent the hours he spent apart from her. She resisted Maya’s attempts to befriend her, and refused to become part of the tight-knit community, but still complained that she was bored.

Bitterness scoured the lining of Jesse’s stomach. He’d opened his heart and taken a risk. And in the end he’d lost.

He didn’t blame Marie, he blamed himself. He’d written a fairy tale of his own—one in which he and his wife would work side by side during the day and sit together on the porch swing in the evening, waiting for the first star to appear in the sky. They’d laugh together. Raise a family together. The way his parents had.

But the reality? More arguments than laughter. And too many nights when Jesse had sat on the porch swing alone while Marie sat inside watching television or talking on the phone.

He didn’t feel blessed.

“Mr. Logan? Jesse?” Lori Martin stood beside him, concern reflected in the depths of her amber eyes. “Is something wrong?”

Jesse’s lips twisted.

Maybe she was worried that she’d agreed to work for someone who was losing his mind. Not that Jesse blamed her. A few times over the past few months, he’d wondered about that himself.

He frowned as his gaze dropped to the constellation of pale cinnamon freckles dotting the bridge of Lori’s nose.

Funny, he hadn’t noticed them until now.

With a jolt, Jesse realized he hadn’t noticed how young she was, either. Probably in her mid-twenties. Her smile seemed to appear without warning or reason, and the lively sparkle in her eyes was evidence of a life that hadn’t been touched by disappointment.

Lucky her.

Lori’s response to his bluff the night before, when he offered and she accepted the nanny position, had left him stunned. It wasn’t until Jesse watched her car glide up the driveway that he let himself believe she’d really accepted the position. And even then, he half expected to see her do a U-turn and hightail it back to town.

He’d stopped asking God for help a long time ago, but if Jesse didn’t know better, he’d be tempted to think He was still looking out for him anyway.

Lori felt her face grow warm and she shifted uncomfortably under Jesse’s intense perusal. Had her mascara smeared? Did she have a smudge of grape jelly on her nose?

An unhappy squawk on the other side of the door saved her from having to ask.

She and Jesse instinctively turned toward the sound.

“Brooke.” They said the name at exactly the same moment.

Lori grinned at the expression on Jesse’s face and she shrugged. “She’s always the first one awake and ready to eat in the morning.”

A shadow darkened Jesse’s eyes. “I keep forgetting that you…know them.”

Know them. Love them. Had even held them in her arms before Jesse….

Lori decided those thoughts were best kept to herself as she stepped into the nursery to say good morning to the girls.

She blinked, giving her eyes a moment to adjust to the shock.

Someone had painted the room…pink. But not a delicate, seashell-pink. A bright, vibrant, sensory-overload shade of Post-it Note pink.

But aside from the color of the walls and the identical white cribs lined up against the wall, it didn’t look like a nursery.

No pictures on the walls. No mobiles over the cribs. The windows lacked curtains and, other than the beds, there wasn’t a stick of furniture. Not even a rocking chair.

Lori’s gaze moved to an enormous cardboard box positioned under the window. She decided it didn’t count.

A sudden noisy chorus rose from the direction of the three cribs, and Lori no longer had time to dwell on the décor. Or lack thereof.

“When one wakes up, they all wake up.” Jesse shook his head. “I stopped setting my alarm a few months ago—it seemed a little unnecessary.”

Lori went to Sasha first, even though the baby wasn’t exercising her lungs the way Brooke was. She’d captured her toes and was studying them with the same serious, intense expression Lori had seen on Jesse’s face. She reached into the crib and Sasha’s dimpled hand closed around her finger.

“Good morning, sweetheart. How did you sleep?” She glanced at Jesse. “Do you have a changing table somewhere?”

“It’s in the box,” Jesse muttered.

The box under the window.

Madison rolled over to watch the show, her thumb tucked firmly in her mouth. Lori blew her a noisy kiss. “Patience, sweet pea. I’ll get to you in a minute.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Lori saw Jesse’s scowl.

It occurred to her that, if he’d fired someone for the songs she’d sung to the girls, maybe kisses were against the rules, too.

Not on her shift.

She’d spent hours caring for babies, and she knew that the more stimulation they received—the more people who touched and spoke to them—the more they thrived.

“If you have work to do, I can take it from here.” And she’d be much less nervous if Jesse wasn’t watching her.

Jesse hesitated.

“Really. We’ll be fine.” With Sasha in her arms, Lori breezed over to the changing table…box…and with one hand, flicked open a blanket before laying the baby down. She kept one hand on Sasha’s tummy while reaching for a clean diaper from the stack on the floor.

Jesse hadn’t taken the hint, and Lori felt the weight of his gaze as she deftly changed Sasha’s diaper. It wasn’t until all the babies had on fresh diapers that he finally retreated.

Lori sighed with relief.

“I must have made it through round one,” she whispered to Madison.

The baby grinned.

“I know, I know.” Lori winked at her. “I won’t get cocky. Now, let’s go down to the kitchen and find some breakfast.”

And get ready for round two.

Chapter Four

“So, what do you think? Is this one going to work out?”

Clay’s innocent expression didn’t fool Jesse for a second.

He knew he should have followed his gut instincts. But no, in spite of his better judgment, he’d gone down to the barn and put himself in the crosshairs of Clay’s wicked sense of humor.

As far as Jesse was concerned, the topic of the nannies that had come and gone over the past few months wasn’t open for discussion. But if there was an invisible line drawn in the sand, his brother had to cross it.

“Time will tell.” Jesse chose the safest response.

Clay rolled his eyes.

“She’s very…calm,” Jesse offered.

Really calm.

Lori hadn’t seemed a bit rattled by the prebreakfast commotion. Jesse was always a little overwhelmed in the morning, when all three girls woke up within minutes of each other, bawling like newborn calves for their breakfast.

In his mind’s eye, he saw Lori’s lips purse as she blew a kiss to Madison. He shook the image away, but another one—of Lori tickling the bottom of Sasha’s tiny foot while Brooke wailed for her share of the attention—took its place.

“Patient,” he added.

“That should work in your favor.”

“I meant patient with the girls.”

“Right. Sorry.” Clay grinned. “And she didn’t run screaming back to High Plains when she saw the living room. That’s a good sign.”

Jesse had thought so, too.

Not that he hadn’t tried to keep up with the housework. And the laundry. And the cooking.

Even with two hired hands pulling ten-hour days and Clay coming onboard to help, Jesse had a difficult time staying on top of things at the ranch. It took every ounce of his energy to take care of the triplets in the evening and find a few free hours to work on the books. When he’d let the last nanny go two days before Tommy turned up missing, the house had taken a downward spiral.

Who was he kidding? Downward spiral? It had already hit bottom. Crashed and burned.

“I’m having dinner with Nicki so I won’t be around this evening.” Clay reached out and clipped Jesse lightly on the shoulder with his fist. “Lori sounds too good to be true. Don’t mess this up.”

“Me?”

“I’ve got two words for you: five nannies.”

“I wasn’t the problem.” Jesse glared at his brother. “They weren’t what I…expected.”

The teasing sparkle in Clay’s eyes faded. “Jess…” He paused, as if trying to find the right words. “You can’t expect the girls’ nanny to be like their…mother. It’s not the same. It’s not going to look the same.”

His brother didn’t realize the truckload of irony in that statement, Jesse thought. Marie hadn’t wanted to be a mother. He’d watched her emotionally distance herself from the girls—the same way she had with him.

He had prayed. Back then. He prayed she would eventually come around. He prayed she would see the girls for the miraculous gift they were—but those hopes had been crushed when he found the note and her wedding rings that day.

A wave of bitterness swept through him. Belief in answered prayer. Hope. At one time, Jesse had had a surplus of both. But that was before he’d realized they left a lingering aftertaste of disappointment.

“I know this has been hard for you, Jess, but I’m here to help.” Clay met his gaze. “Not just with the ranch but with…everything.”

“Yeah, but for how long?” Jesse retorted.

As soon as he saw the shadow skim through his brother’s eyes, Jesse silently berated himself.

“For as long as you want me to, whether you believe it or not.” Clay’s quiet promise weighted the air between them.

He sauntered out of the barn and Jesse closed his eyes.

What had happened to him?

Over the past six months, Jesse had been waiting for a sign that the well of bitterness inside of him was beginning to dry up. But instead, he felt as if it were constantly being replenished by an unknown source.

Maya told him that he had to let God work in his heart but Jesse wondered if he was beyond repair. Sometimes he thought the only thing that kept his heart beating was his daughters’ sunny smiles.

She could do this.

Lori surveyed the living room and took a moment to regroup.

Triplets fed and dressed: check.

Laundry started: check.

Supper in the Crock-Pot: check.

Kitchen—

Lori winced. That room definitely fell under the promise: I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength. She planned to tackle that particular project while the girls took their morning nap.

After giving the triplets their bottles, Lori spread out a hand-pieced quilt on the floor of the living room and put all three babies in the center. While they worked their way to the edges, she deposited the toys into a large wicker hamper and sorted through the clothing draped over the swings.

Apparently, the men in the household had discovered a handy place to hang up their laundry after it came out of the dryer, saving the work of having to fold it and put it away.

Lori shook the wrinkles out of a faded denim work shirt and the subtle scent of sage and soap drifted into the air.

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