The Texas Cowboy's Quadruplets. Cathy Thacker Gillen

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      He kept his eyes locked with hers. And leaned forward close enough for her to inhale the brisk masculine scent of his aftershave lotion. “Is everything computerized?”

      She ignored the comforting warmth of his body, so near to hers. Frowning, she pushed back the unwanted emotion welling up inside her. “I think so.”

      Concentration lines appeared at the corners of his eyes. “You’re not sure.” His expression remained genial, but otherwise inscrutable.

      Reluctantly, Mitzy admitted, “I’ve never actually looked. I gave everyone the autonomy to make the decisions they felt necessary, just the way my dad did when he was first diagnosed with stage four bone cancer and began undergoing treatment.”

      “Which was a year ago, October.”

      Mitzy was surprised Chase remembered that so precisely, since he had still been living in Fort Worth at the time.

      Throat tightening, she went to him and laid an entreating hand on his forearm. “The point is, Chase, when I go to them, with whatever the situation is, I want to also have the solution at the ready.”

      He nodded. A mixture of understanding and acceptance came into his eyes. Covering her hand with his own, he asked gently, “So what is your timetable?”

      Mitzy savored the warmth and strength of him. “I want this all wrapped up before the MCS annual Christmas party, on the twenty-second of December.”

      His brow furrowed. “That means we’re going to have to get started with the audit right away.”

      Taking comfort in the fact she wasn’t going to be locked in this stressful situation all on her own, Mitzy nodded. Chase might not know her as well as she had always wished, but he did know business.

      She frowned as she heard the sound of a fussing baby on the monitor.

      She dropped her hold on Chase and stepped back, then headed for the stairs. Remembering to add, “And one more thing, Chase. This all has to be done in secret.”

      * * *

      Of course it did, Chase thought, as he followed Mitzy up the staircase to the second floor. Trying and failing not to admire the snug fit of her yoga pants over her gently rounded derriere. She cast him a warning look over her shoulder. “I don’t want people worrying unnecessarily, Chase. Especially not during the Christmas season!”

      Of course she didn’t.

      Just like her father hadn’t wanted her to worry when he was sick.

      I’d sell MCS to you right now, Chase, if just the idea of it weren’t so upsetting to my daughter, Gus had said, from his hospital bed, that last week.

      Heartsick at the way the disease had ravaged the body of his mentor, and almost father-in-law, Chase had pulled up a chair and taken Gus’s frail hand in his. Did you try talking to her?

      Yes. And she took that to mean I was giving up. My death is going to be hard enough on her as it is, and we both know it’s coming, Gus had grimaced, a heck of a lot sooner than I would like.

      Unhappily—because no good had ever come from keeping someone deliberately in the dark—Chase had guessed, So the plan is to humor Mitzy?

      Gus had nodded. Until the end of the fiscal year. By then, she should have realized she’s not cut out for the business world, any more than I was ever meant to be a social worker. I want you to help her let MCS go, Chase...so she can move into the future, unencumbered...

      “Chase?” Mitzy came back to the nursery door, to find him barely clearing the top step. “Did you want to see the babies?”

      Abruptly, he realized she had been talking to him. He’d been so lost in the poignant memory of her dad, he hadn’t heard a word of what she’d said.

      “Sorry.” He lifted an apologetic hand. “Thinking...”

      She looked stressed. “The volunteers are going to be here in another half an hour, but I don’t think the boys are going to make it that long. They’re usually pretty hungry upon waking.”

      It was easy to see why she might feel overwhelmed in the moment. He didn’t know how she had made it thus far. “Not to worry. I’m here.”

      Glad he was there to come to their rescue in a way he hadn’t been in the past, when he hadn’t spent nearly enough time understanding where Mitzy was coming from or why...never mind tried to meet her halfway on anything...or persuade her to do the same with him... He hurriedly closed the distance between them and followed her into the nursery. He and Mitzy had been too young before to realize just how incredible and rare the love they had was. But they were older now, wiser. So if they ever got even half of what they’d had back, he was damn sure not going to squander it. And he wouldn’t let her do so, either.

      In the meantime, he’d help her—and her sons—in every way he could, as a way of making amends.

      He wanted her to see she could count on him, the way her father had hoped, and more. And so could her boys.

      “Wow,” Chase said, as he caught his first glimpse of Mitzy’s four adorable new sons.

      For once, the talk around town had been right on the mark. The quadruplets were gorgeous, just like their mom, with dark hair, fair skin and big, long-lashed blue eyes. As Mitzy surveyed them, she beamed with pride. He could see why. They were just perfect. As was the nursery she had set up for them.

      The four full-size white cribs were fit together in the middle of the room, like a foursquare. All were decked out in “baby boy” blue. Colorful, eye-catching mobiles were attached to each bed. The babies all wore engraved bracelets that coincided with the names written across the tops of all the side railings.

      Mitzy made the introductions proudly. “This is Joe.” The most social, Chase guessed, taking in the long lashes. “He is always smiling and laughing and cooing.”

      She moved to the next bed. “And this is Zach.” Who still seemed sleepy, Chase observed, as the little one yawned. Mitzy smiled. “He’s my little Zen baby. Peaceful, content, never complaining.”

      She moved on to the third crib, announcing proudly, “Here’s Alex.” The little fella had worked one arm out of his swaddling, Chase noted with admiration. And was attempting to free the other. “He’s going to be my athlete,” Mitzy proclaimed.

      “And then—” she paused at the fourth crib “—there is Gabe.” The infant was staring up at them, intent, seeming wise beyond his days. “He seems to be the most perceptive of the four,” she said softly. “He’s always vigilant, always aware.”

      Chase started to speak. Briefly, he was so overwhelmed with emotion it felt like he had a frog in his throat. Finally, he managed to say in a rusty-sounding voice, “They’re amazing.”

      “I know.” Mitzy’s eyes gleamed suspiciously, too.

      Chase took her in his arms, hugging her. “Congratulations, Mom,” he whispered, his voice still sounding a little hoarse.

      She nodded, overcome.

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