The Triplets' Cowboy Daddy. Patricia Johns

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ situation hadn’t improved things.

      “You sure?” Nora asked.

      “You bet. It’ll be fine. There’s lots of room. Just for a few days, until you and your mom figure this out.” He was making this sound like a weekend away, not a complete invasion of his privacy, but he was already entangled in this family and had been for years. This was for old time’s sake—for the friendship that used to mean so much to him. And maybe this was also a guilt offering for having inherited that house to begin with.

      The next few minutes were spent gathering up baby supplies and getting the car seats back into Nora’s four-door pickup truck. As Nora got into the driver’s seat, Dina visibly deflated from where she stood at the side door. She’d been holding herself together for her daughter’s sake, it seemed, and she suddenly looked small and older.

      Cliff may have been many things, but he had been a good man at heart, and no one would convince Easton otherwise. A good husband? Perhaps not, given the recent revelation. But a man could be good at heart and lousy with relationships. At least Easton hoped so, because he seemed to fall into that category himself. If it weren’t for Cliff, Easton’s life would have turned out a whole lot differently. Loyalty might be in short supply, but Easton knew where his lay.

      He got into his own rusted-out Ford and followed Nora down the familiar drive toward his little house. His house. Should he feel so territorial about the old place? He’d fixed it up a fair amount since taking ownership, and the work had brought him a lot of comfort. He’d grown up in a drafty old house in town filled with his dad’s beer bottles and piles of dishes that never got washed. So when he found out that Cliff had left him the house and the land, something inside him had grown—like roots sinking down, giving more security than he’d ever had. He’d stared at that deed, awash in gratefulness. He’d never been a guy who let his feelings show, but he had no shame in the tears that misted his eyes when he shook the lawyer’s hand.

      I shouldn’t have gotten attached. And that was the story of his life, learning not to get attached, because nothing really lasted.

      The farmhouse was a small, two-story house with white wooden siding and a broad, covered front porch. He hadn’t been expecting company when he’d headed out for his morning chores, and he hoped that he’d left it decently clean. But this was his home, and while the situation was emotionally complicated, the legalities wouldn’t change. Mr. Carpenter had left it to him. The deed was in a safety deposit box at the bank.

      After they’d parked, Easton hopped out of his truck and angled around to her vehicle, where she was already unbuckling car seats.

      “Thanks,” Nora said as she passed him the first baby in her seat. “I don’t know how to balance three of them yet. I should probably call up Mackenzie Granger and see if she has any ideas. She’s got the twins, after all.”

      He held the front door open for her with the heel of his boot and waited while she stepped inside. The sun was lowering in the sky, illuminating the simple interior. Nora paused as she looked around.

      “It’s different than I left it.”

      “Yeah...” He wasn’t sure how apologetic he should be here. “I got rid of the old furniture. It was pretty musty.”

      Easton hadn’t put anything on the walls yet. He had a few pictures of his mother, but they didn’t belong on the wall. She’d run off when he was eight—left a letter stuck to the fridge saying she couldn’t handle it anymore, and that Easton was now his father’s problem. He’d never seen her again. Considering the only family pictures he had were a few snapshots of his mom, the walls had stayed bare.

      “Why did my dad leave this house to you?” Nora turned to face him. “I can’t figure that part out. Why would he do that?”

      Easton hadn’t been the one to hurt her, but he was the one standing in front of her, regardless, and he felt an irrational wave of guilt. He was caught up in her pain, whether he meant to be or not.

      “I don’t know...” It had been a kind gesture—more than kind—and he’d wondered ever since if there were hidden strings. “A while ago, he said that he needed someone to take care of it, put some new life into it. I’d assumed that he wanted to rent it out or something. I didn’t expect this.”

      “But this is my great-grandparents’ home,” she said. “I loved this place...”

      She had... He remembered helping the family paint the old house one year when he was a teenager, and Nora had put fresh curtains in the windows in the kitchen—she’d sewn them in home economics class. She did love this old house, but then she’d gone to college and gotten a city job, and he’d just figured she’d moved on.

      “You had your own life in the city. Maybe your dad thought—”

      “That doesn’t mean I don’t have roots here in Hope!” she shot back. “This house is mine. It should have been mine... My father should never have done this.” She had to point her anger at someone, and it was hard to tell off the dead.

      “What he should have done is debatable,” Easton said. “But he made a choice.”

      She didn’t answer him, and he didn’t expect her to. She hated this, but he couldn’t change facts, and he wasn’t about to be pushed around, either. They’d just have to try to sort out a truce over the next few days.

      “I’m making some tea,” he added. “You want some?”

      They’d been friends back in the day, but a lot had changed. Easton grew up and filled out. Nora had gone to college and moved to the city. He was now legal owner of a house she was still attached to, and an old friendship wasn’t going to be cushion enough for all of this.

      “Yes, tea would be nice.” Her tone was tight.

      “Nora.” He turned on the rattling faucet to fill up the kettle. “I don’t know what you think I did, but I never asked for this house. And I never angled for it.”

      “You didn’t turn it down, either.”

      No, he hadn’t. He could have refused the inheritance, but it had been an answer to midnight prayers, a way to step out from under his past. Mr. Carpenter’s gift had made him feel more like family and less like the messed-up kid who needed a job. Mr. Carpenter had seen him differently, but he suspected Nora still saw him the same way she always had—a skinny kid who would do pretty much anything she asked to make her happy.

      And as dumb as it was, he also saw her the same way he always had—the beautiful girl whom he wished could see past his flaws and down to his core. He was a man now—not a boy, and most certainly not a charity case. Nora was a reminder of a time he didn’t want to revisit—when he’d been in love with a girl who took what he had to offer and never once saw him as more than a buddy. It hadn’t been only her...he’d been an isolated kid looking for acceptance anywhere he could get it, and he didn’t like those memories. They were marinated in loneliness.

      That wasn’t who he was anymore. Everything had changed around here. Including him.

       Chapter Two

      Easton heard the soft beep of an alarm go off through a fog of sleep, and he blinked his eyes open, glancing at the clock beside him. It was 3 a.m., and it wasn’t СКАЧАТЬ