Jingle Bell Babies

He immediately thought of his younger brother, Clay, but he shook the image away. Colt was right. He wasn’t thinking clearly.

His sister, Maya, should have been the one who came to mind first. Not Clay. Clay had shirked his responsibility to the ranch and the family years ago.

If his brother hadn’t even bothered to call when Maya had told him Jesse’s triplets were struggling for their lives in the NICU, what made him think Clay would be here for him now?

In that respect, Marie and Clay had been alike. Both of them ran away when things got hard. Jesse knew it was up to him to pick up the pieces. Alone. Again.

He swallowed hard against the lump lodged in his throat. “I’ll call Maya,” he managed to rasp.

“Jesse…” Colt frowned.

Don’t say it, Jesse thought. His self-control was hanging by a thread. He couldn’t think about his own grief though, he had to think about the three babies he’d left sleeping peacefully in their cribs only a few hours ago. He had to keep it together. For his daughters.

As if Colt could read his mind, he nodded slowly. “I understand. And don’t worry about the…arrangements right now, Jess. Take as much time as you need.”

The automatic doors parted as Jesse reached the front of the building. He’d spent so much time at the hospital over the past eight weeks that many of the staff knew him by name. Two volunteer auxiliary workers stopped talking and nodded solemnly when he passed the information desk.

He’d only taken a few steps down the corridor when a man stepped out of the cafeteria and intercepted him.

“Jesse.”

Jesse froze at the sound of the familiar voice, although he barely recognized his father-in-law. The deep lines in Philip Banner’s face and the haunted look in his eyes told Jesse he already knew about Marie’s death.

Instinctively, Jesse extended his hand to grasp his father-in-law’s, but the man stepped away, rebuffing the overture.

Jesse flinched. Philip had never bothered to hide his disapproval. As one of the state’s leading prosecutors, Marie’s father had had high hopes his only child would marry well. A cattle rancher from Kansas didn’t fit his model of the ideal son-in-law. Philip and Sharon had kept in close touch with their daughter after the wedding, but barely acknowledged Jesse’s existence.

Jesse had hoped his in-laws would soften when they found out they were going to be grandparents, but if anything, the news had made them more resentful. Instead of anticipating the girls’ arrival, Sharon seemed to blame Jesse for Marie’s difficult pregnancy.

“Have you seen the girls yet?” It occurred to Jesse that Philip and Sharon may have come to the hospital for the same reason he had. To hold the triplets and try to find some comfort in knowing that a part of Marie lived on in her daughters.

Philip ignored the question. “Sharon and I need your permission to take Marie…” His voice cracked and he looked away, as if it were difficult to look Jesse in the eye.

Jesse stared at the man, unable to comprehend what he was asking. And then the truth hit him. They hadn’t shown up out of concern for Jesse. Or his baby girls. His in-laws had been close by because they’d been part of Marie’s exit plan. They’d probably made arrangements to meet her at the airport—to lend their support in case Jesse followed—before escorting her back to Kansas City.

“You want to take her—” Jesse couldn’t say the word body “—back to Kansas City?”

“We have a family plot in the cemetery.” Philip’s expression changed and now bitterness scored the words. “Marie never belonged here with you. You know that. Last week she called and asked us if she could come home. It’s where she wanted to be. It’s where she should be now.”

Home.

Jesse had a flashback of the day the obstetrician told them the ultrasound revealed they were expecting triplets.

Jesse’s initial shock had quickly changed to delight. He’d always wanted a large family. When it came right down to it, what difference did it make whether there were years or minutes between the births of their children?

And if he were honest with himself, he’d hoped that starting a family would ease the tension growing between them.

During their courtship, Marie claimed she couldn’t wait to have children, but after the wedding she’d avoided the topic. Jesse hadn’t minded it being just the two of them for a while, but Marie’s reaction when she’d found out she was pregnant had disturbed him. Overwhelmed, she’d started to cry and begged him to take her home.

He’d thought she meant the ranch.

Now, seeing the anger and grief on his father-in-law’s face, Jesse was forced to admit the truth behind Philip’s claim: Marie had never considered the ranch her home.

Jesse had lost his wife long before the tornado struck.

The words stuck in his throat but he pushed them out. “I’ll talk to the director at the funeral home. The two of you can work out the arrangements.”

Philip nodded curtly, pivoted and walked away without a backward glance. No thank-you. No mention of his granddaughters.

The little energy Jesse had left drained away. On emotional autopilot, he took the elevator to the NICU. When he reached the nursery, he heard someone singing softly to the girls.

But it wasn’t his sister.

Sitting beside the crib where his daughters slept was Lori Martin, the young, auburn-haired nurse he’d met once or twice. Jesse hadn’t gotten to know her as well as he had the other nurses, because her shift ended before he arrived to sit with the girls every evening.

The soft smile on Lori’s face and the expression in her eyes made Jesse’s chest tighten.

It wasn’t right.

Marie should have been the one singing to them. Loving them. And yet she’d left them…all of them.

Jesse’s fists clenched at his sides.

Marie was gone, but he had three reasons to live: his daughters. And Jesse decided to make sure no one would hurt them again.

Chapter One

December

“You could have given Maya some hope.”

Jesse stiffened at the sound of Clay’s quiet voice behind him.

The memory of their sister’s stricken expression had seared Jesse’s conscience. He knew he’d been out of line, but the last thing he needed was his younger brother beating him up about it.

He’d been doing a pretty good job of that all by himself.

“Maya’s been worried sick since Tommy ran away,” Clay pointed out. “All she needed was to hear you say you’d find her son and bring him home.”

“I did say that.”

“‘I’ll bring him home either way, Maya.’” Clay’s voice deepened—an exaggerated imitation of Jesse’s low baritone—as he recited the words Jesse had spoken just before leaving the house. “In my opinion, you could have left two little words out of that promise.”

“I don’t remember asking for your opinion.” Jesse tightened the cinch on Saber’s saddle before leading the gelding from the stall. “Is it fair to give Maya false hope?”

“Now, are you asking my opinion?”

Jesse scowled. Since Clay’s unexpected return to High Plains a month ago, his brother claimed to have changed. Jesse didn’t believe it for a second. Not when Clay still managed to get to him like a burr under a saddle blanket.