Detective Barelli's Legendary Triplets. Melissa Senate

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СКАЧАТЬ detective crossed his arms over his chest. “I have no intention of moving to the ranch, Annie.”

      “Oh, hogwash!” Annie said, waving her piece of toast. “You’re married and that’s it. You should move to the ranch like your grandmamma intended, and poor Norah here will have a father for the triplets.”

      Good golly. Watch out for little old ladies with secret agendas. Annie Potterowski had hoodwinked them both!

      Norah watched Reed swallow. And felt her cheeks burn.

      “Annie,” Norah said, hands on hips. “You did know we were drunk! You let us marry anyway!”

      “For your own good,” Annie said. “Both of you. But I didn’t lure you two here. I didn’t spike the punch. You came in here of your own free will. I just didn’t stop you.”

      “Can’t you arrest her for this?” Norah said to Reed, narrowing her eyes at Annie again.

      Annie’s eyes widened. “I hope you get a chance to leave town and go somewhere exotic for your honeymoon,” she said, clearly trying to change the subject from her subterfuge. “New York City maybe. Or how about Paris? It’s so romantic.”

      Norah threw up her hands. “She actually thinks this is reasonable!”

      “Annie, come on,” Reed said. “We’re not really married. A little too much spiked punch, a wedding chapel right in our path, no waiting period required—a recipe for disaster and we walked right into it. We’re here to get back the marriage license. Surely you haven’t sent it in.”

      “We’ll just rip it up and be on our way,” Norah said, glancing at her watch.

      “Oh dear. I’m sorry, but that’s impossible,” Annie said. “I sent Abe to the county courthouse in Brewer about twenty minutes ago. I’m afraid your marriage license—and the sixteen others from yesterday—are well on their way to being deposited. There’s a mail slot right in front of the building. Of course, it’s Sunday and they’re closed, so I reckon you won’t be able to drive over to try to get it back.”

      Reed was staring at Annie with total confusion on his face. “Well, we’ll have to do something at some point.”

      “Yeah,” Norah agreed, her head spinning. Between all the spiked punch and the surprise this morning of the wedding rings, and now what appeared to be this crazy scheme of Annie’s to not undo what she’d allowed to happen...

      “I need coffee,” Reed said, shaking his head. “A vat of coffee.”

      Norah nodded. “Me, too.”

      “Help yourself,” Annie said, gesturing at the coffeepot on the counter as she took a bite of her toast.

      Reed sighed and turned to Norah. “Let’s go back to your house and talk this through. We need to make a plan for how to undo this.”

      Norah nodded. “See you, Annie,” she said as she headed to the door, despite how completely furious she was with the woman. She’d known Annie all her life and the woman had been nothing but kind to her. Annie had even brought each triplet an adorable stuffed basset hound, her favorite dog, when they’d been born, and had showered them with little gifts ever since.

      “Oh, Norah? Reed?” Annie called as they opened the door and stepped onto the porch.

      Norah turned back around.

      “Congratulations,” the elderly officiant said with a sheepish smile and absolute mirth glowing in her eyes.

      * * *

      Reed had been so fired up when he’d left Norah’s house for the chapel that he hadn’t realized how chilly it was this morning, barely fifty-five degrees. He glanced over at Norah; all she wore was a T-shirt and her hands were jammed in her pockets as she hunched over a bit. She was cold. He took off his jacket and slipped it around Norah’s shoulders.

      She started and stared down at the jacket. “Thank you,” she said, slipping her arms into it and zipping it up. “I was so out of my mind before, I forgot to grab a sweater.” She turned to stare at him. “Of course, now you’ll be cold.”

      “My aching head will keep me warm,” he said. “And I deserve the headache—the literal and figurative one.”

      “We both do,” she said gently.

      The breeze moved a swath of her hair in her face, the sun illuminating the red and gold highlights, and he had the urge to sweep it back, but she quickly tucked it behind her ear. “I’m a cop. It’s my job to serve and protect. I had no business getting drunk, particularly at a town event.”

      “Well, the punch was spiked with something very strong. And you weren’t on duty,” she pointed out. “You’re not even on the force till tomorrow.”

      “Still, a cop is always a cop. Unfortunately, by the time I realized the punch had to be spiked, I was too affected by it to care.” He wouldn’t put himself in a position like that again. Leaving Cheyenne, saying yes to Wedlock Creek—even though it meant he couldn’t live in his grandmother’s ranch—trying to switch off the city cop he’d been... He’d let down his guard and he’d paid for it with this crazy nonsense. So had Norah.

      Damn. Back in Cheyenne, his guard had been so up he’d practically gotten himself killed during a botched stakeout. Where the hell was the happy medium? Maybe he’d never get a handle on just right.

      “And you said you were glad to forget? Or something like that?” she asked, darting a glance at him.

      He looked out over a stand of heavy trees along the side of the road. Let it go, he reminded himself. No rehashing, no what-ifs. “I’m here for a fresh start. Now I need a fresh start to my fresh start.” He stopped and shook his head. What a mess. “Sixteen couples besides us?” he said, resuming walking. “It’s a little too easy to get married in the state of Wyoming.”

      “Someone should change the law,” Norah said. “There should be a waiting period. Blood tests required. Something, anything, so you can’t get insta-married.”

      That was for sure. “It’s like a mini Las Vegas. I wonder how many of those couples meant to get married.”

      “Oh, I’m sure all of them. The Wedlock Creek Wedding Chapel is famous. People come here because of the legend.”

      He glanced at her. “What legend?”

      “Just about everyone who marries at the chapel becomes the parent of multiples in some way, shape or form. According to legend, the chapel has a special blessing on it. A barren witch cast the spell the year the chapel was built in 1895.”

      Reed raised an eyebrow. “A barren witch? Was she trying to be nice or up to no good?”

      “No one’s sure,” she said with a smile. “But as the mother of triplets, I’m glad I have them.”

      Reed stopped walking.

      She’d said it. It was absolutely true. She was the mother of triplets. No wonder Annie Potterowski had called him a saint last night. The elderly woman had thought he was knowingly marrying a single mother of three babies! СКАЧАТЬ