The Bride’s Matchmaking Triplets. Regina Scott

      Brandon held up his hand again. “One other concern, if I may.”

      Parker groaned, but his friends silenced him. Lula May nodded for Brandon to continue.

      “The league is currently funding Elizabeth Dumont to care for the triplets,” he told them. “When they move into the children’s home, she will need another position.”

      “Don’t expect us to pay for that,” Sawyer ordered.

      “There must be someone who needs a cook or nanny,” Dooley put in, glancing around as if he hoped to find one among them.

      “Most folks hereabouts prefer family to help raise children,” Lula May replied thoughtfully.

      “And most cooks have to travel with the herd,” Bo added.

      Brandon had known it would be hard to find Elizabeth other work, but hearing their reluctance just steeled his resolve. She’d lost her place in society, her position as a governess and her potential husband to another woman. She deserved something of her own.

      “You’re all worried for nothing,” Magnuson grumbled. “She’s a fine-looking woman who loves children. Someone’s going to marry her. You wait and see.”

      Though Lula May looked unconvinced, most of the men were nodding again, even David, Bo, Edmund and CJ. Brandon knew he should protest. Elizabeth shouldn’t have to sell herself in marriage to support herself. Then again, what if she met a man she could love and who loved her in return? Wouldn’t that make life better for her again? His responsibility toward her would diminish to that of a pastor for his flock. Magnuson’s suggestion was logical.

      He simply could not understand why the thought of Elizabeth marrying made him feel as if he’d failed.

       Chapter Five

      Caroline and Louisa accompanied Elizabeth back to the boardinghouse and helped her change the boys into fresh diapers. At just over five feet tall, with soft brown hair and warm brown eyes, Louisa gave off an air of competence and kindness no doubt earned from years helping her physician father and invalid mother. A good half foot taller, Caroline was more energetic; her light brown hair, sparkling hazel eyes and bright smile inspired confidences. Coming from a musical family, she had a natural presence. Each had spent time caring for the triplets before Elizabeth arrived, and both had gone out of their way to make her feel welcome in Little Horn, even though it was hard to get into town often from their ranches.

      Today, they gathered on the floor, heedless of their pretty church dresses, and played with the boys as they chatted with Elizabeth.

      “Look how big you’ve grown,” Caroline told Theo, who was crawling toward her with an eye to the sling that protected her healing arm. She carefully moved her arm aside as Louisa distracted him by clapping her hands.

      “I can’t imagine a mother leaving them,” Louisa said as the boys converged on her. Jasper sat and began clapping along with her, off beat and grinning. “I pray for her every day.”

      “That reminds me.” Elizabeth rose to fetch the drawings that Mrs. Hickey had found on the church piano. “These were left for the boys. Any idea who the artist might be?”

      Louisa flipped through the pictures, then handed them to Caroline. As if determined to look as well, the boys headed back her way.

      “Someone has an eye for detail,” Caroline said with a glance up to Elizabeth.

      Had she noticed the picture with Elizabeth and Brandon holding hands? Elizabeth willed herself not to blush. “Is it possible the mother is still here?”

      Caroline handed the pictures back to Elizabeth and frowned as if wondering the same thing, but Louisa shook her head. “She can’t be. Only a handful of people have moved to Little Horn in the last three months, my family among them. Everyone knows when there’s a stranger in town.”

      “But no one is a stranger for long,” Caroline countered, giving Eli’s toe a tug as he scooted past her, following the pictures. “That’s one of the things I love about this town.”

      “But if this is the work of the Good Samaritan,” Elizabeth protested, “why hide it? Why not come forward?”

      Caroline and Louisa exchanged puzzled glances.

      “Perhaps the person is shy,” Louisa suggested. “And doesn’t want the attention.”

      “The Good Samaritan prefers to keep hidden,” Caroline agreed. “Someone even sneaked onto the Windy Diamond and folded the laundry when we had the triplets. Too bad the helper hasn’t returned since.” She let out a gusty sigh that had Louisa and Elizabeth giggling.

      But Elizabeth kept wondering about the matter after her friends left. If the Good Samaritan could do kind acts for Louisa when she had been living in town and Caroline at the Windy Diamond, that meant the person had to have a horse and time to travel to and fro. Any member of the ranching families would likely be too busy, but how could anyone from the town families make it to the Windy Diamond and back without someone noticing?

      And how had Jasper managed to get all the way to the bed and pull himself up on his chubby legs without her noticing? Now he balanced precariously, face alternating between a grin and a frown of concern. His brothers were positively bouncing as they waited their turn.

      What would she do when the triplets went to the children’s home?

      She shook the unwelcome thought away. They needed her now. That was what mattered.

      She let them play awhile, taking a turn with each at holding their hands and letting them make halting steps around the room. But each step reminded her of others to come—the first time they walked alone, the day they started school, the year they rode a horse—steps she would miss. Oh, but she had to think of something!

      She put the boys into the high chairs, fed them some of the canned fruit and vegetables she had been given and cleaned them up afterward. Normally, one of the ladies brought her dinner, but she hadn’t received a visitor since Caroline and Louisa had left.

      She was just considering breaking into the canned peaches herself when a knock sounded on the door. She went to answer it eagerly, but instead of Mrs. Tyson or Stella, Brandon stood waiting on the landing. Gone were the brown frock coat and trousers, the starch-collared shirt. Now he wore a rough canvas coat, short-collared cotton shirt and dark Levi’s, making him look more like the easygoing cowboys and ranchers of his congregation than the proper minister.

      “Miss Dumont,” he said with a charming smile, “I believe I have the honor of dining with you this afternoon. That is if the other gentlemen clamoring for your attention will allow it.” He peered around her at the babies, who gabbled a greeting.

      The invitation reminded her of dinners with her aunt. Those seemed miles away and hundreds of years in the past now.

      “It’s very kind of you,” Elizabeth assured him, “but you’ve seen what it’s like trying to take care of them, much less having a civilized dinner.”

      He bent and picked up a wicker hamper she hadn’t noticed at his booted feet. “Mrs. Tyson anticipated as much. She made us a picnic. Would you like to eat in the field by the church?”

      Would she! At times, the walls drew too close. Elizabeth shot him a grin. “If you’ll help me with the boys, we’d be delighted to join you.”

      A short while later, they were spread out on the grass. All three boys were crawling about, exploring, while Brandon handed Elizabeth goodies from the hamper—sliced ham, corn rolls with fresh butter, newly picked apples and cider from the previous crop.

      “Easy there, little fellow,” Brandon cautioned when Jasper showed every intention of climbing into the hamper after a bright red apple. “You probably need to wait a few months before you try one of those.”

      “Less