The Triplets' Rodeo Man. Tina Leonard

to the altar. Pete had wanted to give up the military for a life closer to home but never planned to marry, and certainly not the woman he called Miss Manners, Priscilla Perkins. His father had found quadruplet orphans who needed parents and persuaded Priscilla and Pete to marry. Josiah had nearly completed his family tree, and now Jack was willing to extend the old man’s life, giving him the time he needed.

      Jack had better watch out. Josiah lived to build his family, and while Jack might give up a kidney, he also might find himself giving up his freedom. Cricket frowned. She knew Josiah too well. As soon as he could draw a healthy breath—and maybe even before—the man would start hunting a bride for Jack. Oh, Josiah would be very sneaky, very underhanded, but before he knew it, Jack would be roped and tied to the Morgan ranch, no matter how much he thought it couldn’t happen to him.

      The problem as Cricket saw it was that Josiah had always chosen women with children for his sons, and Cricket had none. Nor could she simply seduce Jack into her bed and catch him that way. Not that she would, though the seduction part was worth investigating because she had a feeling it would be a heavenly experience. As a deacon, she’d look mighty fallen to her congregation if she came up pregnant and unmarried.

      Cricket mulled over her other options. There were none, as far as she could see. Walking into Josiah’s hospital room, she found him surrounded by cute, young nurses. Josiah appeared pleased to have this beautiful companionship. It was public knowledge that the wealthy man had one son who was still single, and there were certainly plenty of willing bridal candidates making themselves known to Josiah. She had to make certain he didn’t get that baby-making glow in his eyes for Jack. “Hello, Josiah,” she said, bending down to give him a kiss on the forehead.

      The nurses left the room one by one. Josiah grinned at Cricket. “What did you bring me?” he demanded.

      “Cookies,” she said.

      “Good girl.”

      “I saw Jack as I was coming in.”

      Josiah nodded, pleased. “I always knew he’d come around.”

      The fact was, no one had ever thought Jack would come around—there wasn’t a gambler in the county who would have taken a wager on it. Cricket smiled. “Did you?”

      “No.” Josiah smiled. “Just felt like bragging for a minute.”

      “You’re entitled,” Cricket said. “So I hear you might get a new kidney.”

      “That’s what he says,” Josiah said. “But I have no intention of taking his kidney.”

      “Why not?”

      “Because he’ll still ride rodeo.” Josiah eased himself up on his pillow. “He just wants to make me crazy. It’s his favorite thing to do, payback for the years he thinks I was a bad parent.”

      She looked at the elderly gentleman. “The story I heard was that rodeo was in Jack’s blood. Nothing anyone can do about that.”

      “True,” Josiah said. “but he can’t ride with one kidney.”

      “But you know he would and that would make you crazy.”

      “Right.” Josiah nodded. “I don’t mind heading off into the wild blue yonder, but I do mind sitting around worrying like a durn fool about my durn stubborn son.”

      “You have a lot to live for.”

      “Oh, hell. You’re a religious person, Cricket. You’re supposed to spout that kind of nonsense. A man lives to do. ”

      “So?” Cricket demanded. “What’s your point?”

      “My point is that I’m not taking Jack’s kidney just so I can spend a few more years on this earth!” Josiah bellowed. “What good would it do me if he got bucked off and stomped? Do you know how often cowboys get stomped?”

      “Perhaps some protective gear—”

      “Bah!” Josiah tossed off his covers impatiently. “Have them turn down the heat in here, Cricket. It’s nearly April. Why do they have the heat so high? I’m not some sissy old man who can’t make my own body heat! By heaven, I’m not a corpse yet.”

      She smiled. “It is a bit warm in here.”

      “Hey, Deacon,” Josiah said. “Sneak me out of this joint.”

      Her eyes went wide. “I can’t do that. Why didn’t you ask Jack to? He’s the rebel, isn’t he?”

      “Oh, he wouldn’t do it. He’s Mr. Giving-My-Kidney-to-Make-Pop-Feel-Guilty.” Josiah sniffed, obviously upset.

      “Josiah,” Cricket said, “we’d all like to see you gracing the earth awhile longer.”

      “Oh?” His brows beetled, white and thick on his strong forehead. “Who are we? ”

      “Me, for one.”

      “Well, that’s one.”

      “Okay,” Cricket said. “What would make you feel like you have a reason to live? An important enough mission to keep your boots planted firmly on the earth, so that you can be a gracious recipient of the gift your son is trying to give you?”

      He glowered at her. “I’ll tell you, Deacon,” Josiah said. “Find a good woman with children who needs a husband and somehow convince her and Jack to get hitched. That would be worth hanging around to see.”

      Cricket swallowed. “A woman with children?”

      He nodded. “There’s no reason to leave young children without a father when we have plenty of resources in the Morgan family. If you have a magic wand, wave it and make it snappy, say, in the next twenty-four hours, before they bring in that infernal kidney I’m getting. Grandchildren are what old horses like me live to see.”

      “Josiah,” Cricket said faintly, “you’re asking for a miracle, not a magic wand.”

      “Don’t you do miracles? Isn’t that your thing?”

      She paused. “Certainly I believe in them, but Jack hasn’t been…I mean, I know nothing of his personal life. He could already have a girlfriend.”

      “That would make your job easy.”

      “If she had children already,” Cricket reminded him. “Just getting him to the altar would be incredibly difficult, but fixing him up with a single mother who would suit him is likely beyond impossible.” Cricket tried to ignore her own racing heartbeat. There was no way she could honestly match make for Jack Morgan—not with the way her heart jumped every time she saw him. Ever since January, when she’d seen him in the bull-riding ring at the rodeo, she’d known she had the man in her sights who could undo everything rational she thought about men and marriage. A rodeo cowboy could never be the perfect man for her, and yet, her heart was drawn to the devil-may-care in him. “I can’t do it, Josiah. It’s not my place to do so.”

      “Hell’s bells,” Josiah complained. “A family would settle my son down, and that would be best for everyone.”

      “What if he met a woman he fell in love with and then made a family? Wouldn’t that be better?”

      “No,” Josiah said stubbornly. “Because Jack will never marry unless he has to. It’s kind of like visiting his old man—it’s costing him a kidney. Whatever woman catches him is going to have to rope, drag and throw my son to the altar, and he’ll yowl like he’s trussed on a Fourth of July grill.”

      That was probably prescient. And she didn’t want Jack “yowling” if she was the one tying him down—what woman wanted to catch her man that way? “I’ll just finish the drapes for your house that you’ve been wanting, which Suzy and Priscilla and I promised you months ago. How about that? Wouldn’t new drapes give you a reason to come home healthy?”

      He shook his head. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. You are no good at negotiating, Cricket