Free The Cowboy's Triplets by Tina Leonard Page A

Julie, we’ll call you tomorrow.”
    â€œYou don’t have to go—” Julie began, but Jackie already had the door open.
    â€œGood night, all. It was good to see everyone,” Jackie said.
    â€œAt least take some brownies with you,” Julie said, holding out a napkin with two on it.
    Darla snatched the brownies. “Thanks, Julie. We’ll take you to lunch one day this week. Good night, everyone!”
    They hurried to the truck. Jackie was out of breath after scrambling through the slushy snow. “Gosh! That’s what we get for trying to busybody as successfully as Fiona!” Jackie cranked the ignition and gunned the truck down the snow-covered gravel drive.
    â€œI thought you said Sabrina was just a garden-variety fortune-teller.” Darla chewed her brownie happily. “These brownies are great. Are you going to want yours?”
    â€œNo.” Nausea swept Jackie at the mention of food. “Maybe I am coming down with a bug.”
    â€œPerhaps we should carry a line of christening gowns, maybe even matching mom-and-me bride and baby gowns.”
    â€œI’m not pregnant,” Jackie said, still thinking about Sabrina. Very tough to put anything over on Judge Julie. The home-health-care provider story was an angle Jackie hadn’t envisioned.
    â€œWe’ll see,” Darla said. “Everybody’s stories seem to be changing pretty fast. Good thing you’re in the mood for change, huh?”
    â€œYeah,” Jackie said, “I’m a real big fan of change.”
    Â 
    O N S UNDAY MORNING , Pete noticed Fiona looked shocked—and none too pleased—when all of them piled into the van. This was nothing different from their usual routine. Whoever was available on Sunday mornings jumped in the van to go to Mass with Fiona and Burke.
    â€œGood morning, Aunt Fiona, Burke,” Pete said, as they all grabbed their usual seats.
    She turned to glare at them. “What are you doing?”
    â€œKeeping you company, just like we always do,” Pete said, to a chorus of accompanying grunts from his brothers.
    â€œYou should be out looking for wives,” she said, her doughy little face sweet—determined, yet sweet.
    â€œDon’t you worry about a thing, dear aunt.” Pete patted her on the shoulder. “We’ve come up with a solution to the problem.”
    She brightened. “You have?” She cast a slightly optimistic glance over the carload of big men. “I’m so happy to hear it. Did you hear that, Burke? They have a solution!”
    Burke started the engine. “Windshield wipers are stuck. Just a minute.” He got out of the van.
    â€œSo tell me,” Fiona said. “Don’t make me wait.”
    â€œSam’s going to get married,” Pete said.
    Fiona’s eyes went wide. “Sam?”
    Sam nodded. “If it makes you happy, Aunt Fiona, it’s no skin off my nose.”
    She glanced around the van. “Anybody else?”
    â€œNope,” Pete said. “Sam’s getting married, so Sam will get Rancho Diablo.”
    â€œYou’re all nutty as fruitcakes if you think I’m going to fall for this,” Fiona said. “What a bunch of sissies!”
    Pete blinked. “None of us, with the exception of Sam, are ready to settle down. So we forfeit.”
    Fiona turned back around. Pete could see her staring out the window, watching Burke as he picked ice off the wipers. “Well, then,” she said, her tone deceptively enthusiastic, “whom are you going to marry, Sam?”
    Pete glanced at Sam, as did all the other brothers. Fiona turned to pin her youngest nephew with a watchful look that was all Fiona. They’d seen that look too many times over the years not to heed the warning to tread carefully.
    â€œWell, I—” Sam glanced around to his brothers for help. They hadn’t planned that far into their scheme. Pete looked at Sam. Jonas