Brandon offered them all a grateful smile as he turned to face them. “Very considerate of you, but everything seems fine at the moment.”
Mrs. Hickey drew herself up. “Nonsense. We cannot have our minister living in squalor. Cleanliness is next to godliness. Everyone knows that.”
Brandon inclined his head. “I applaud your determination. Since you feel so strongly, do what you must to rid my house of any sign of squalor, ladies. I’ll just help Miss Dumont return the triplets to the boardinghouse.”
Mrs. Hickey brightened. “Oh, is Miss Dumont having trouble managing the little foundlings? Perhaps we should speak to Lula May McKay about finding another nanny. I always thought they would do better with one of our own instead of a stranger.”
He was ready to protest that Elizabeth was no stranger, but she gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head. Right. She still refused to acknowledge their past in public.
“Miss Dumont has the trust of the Lone Star Cowboy League,” Brandon assured the women. “And mine.”
Mrs. Bachmeier and Mrs. Crenshaw nodded, but Mrs. Hickey looked disappointed. Beside him, Elizabeth offered him a smile that made him insufferably pleased with his ability to ease troubled waters.
“Well, hurry along, then,” Mrs. Hickey ordered. “I’m sure we’ll have all kinds of questions about what to do with various items. Unless, of course, you’d just like us to sort things willy-nilly.”
Brandon nearly groaned aloud. The last time Mrs. Hickey had organized his study, he hadn’t been able to find his sermon notes for days.
“I’ll be right back,” he promised the ladies before turning to Elizabeth. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all. I can see you have very important things to do, Pastor.” Her voice hinted of a laugh.
He did have things to do, and now he had to do them with an audience. He glanced down at the babies. All three had opened their eyes and were regarding him with such seriousness he had a feeling he was supposed to beg their pardon too.
He’d been concerned about his congregation, he’d been concerned about the triplets. Now he found himself more concerned about Elizabeth’s future. He knew it wouldn’t be easy finding a governess position among the ranching families surrounding Little Horn.
But if gossip about him and Elizabeth began to spread, she might never find an employer. The Lone Star Cowboy League might even have to rescind the offer for her to care for the boys.
It very much looked as if Elizabeth Dumont had become his responsibility. A responsibility that, for once in his life, he wasn’t sure he was capable of meeting.
Elizabeth thought of Brandon many times over the next few days. He wanted a fresh start, a chance for the two of them to begin again as friends. She ought to accommodate. For as long as she was in Little Horn, he would be her minister. He’d promised to help her find a new position. And he clearly cared about the boys. But it was difficult shifting her heart away from the hurt of their parting four years ago.
As Sunday rolled around, she knew she had to try harder. Like it or not, she realized, a minister’s reputation was important to his calling. She truly didn’t want to give anyone the impression she was disappointed in Brandon. She put on her best dress, a peach-colored taffeta with black lace in the center of the bodice and double rows of black bric-a-brac trimming the long sleeves and graceful hem. She combed her hair up and covered it with a peach-colored hat with a black lace veil. It was foolish, really—one baby finger poked in the wrong place would send the confection tumbling from her head, but for some reason she felt like taking the risk and looking more like a lady than a servant for once.
It must have worked, for one of the older men in the boardinghouse spotted her as she stepped out into the hallway and volunteered to haul the cart down the stairs for her. His roommate offered to carry two of the boys while she took the third.
“Cute little fellers,” the man who had carried the cart said with a smile that spread his thick mustache. He bent to chuck Theo under the chin as the boy snuggled in Elizabeth’s arms. The baby promptly burst into tears, and the man backed away, panic on his rugged face.
“It’s all right,” Elizabeth said, to him and to Theo. “He’s just a little shy.”
The ladies of Little Horn, on the other hand, were anything but shy as Elizabeth crossed the street to the churchyard. They clustered around the cart the moment she bumped it against the steps. She wasn’t sure what to do with the thing, but Mr. Tyson, a burly man with dark hair and kind eyes, helpfully angled it under the steps.
His wife took Jasper. Annie Hill, a cheerful young blonde who helped Louisa at the doctor’s office, took Eli, and Elizabeth kept Theo. His button-brown eyes looked out of a troubled face as they all found seats near each other in the crowded church. Across the way, the boys’ previous nannies, Caroline and Louisa, smiled a welcome, each sitting beside her new husband. Elizabeth had to force herself not to look twice at Bo Stillwater, for he was identical to Brandon, sandy-haired, tall and strong.
She made herself look at the church instead. The last time she had been inside the Little Horn chapel was when she’d discovered David McKay with Caroline. Then her gaze had been all for the couple and the minister in the wedding. Now she took note of the polished walnut pews running on either side of the aisle, the fresh whitewashed walls and the simple wood cross behind the altar. She recognized the trim figure of Constance Hickey as the woman marched up to them.
“Here,” she said, thrusting three wrinkled pieces of paper at her. “I found these on the piano. They’re clearly for you.” She peered closer. “Who do you think left them?”
Elizabeth had no idea. Balancing Theo on her hip, she shuffled through the simple pencil drawings. The first showed a sad-faced woman bending over a cart, the babies watchful, with pies in a circle all around them. Elizabeth had heard the story about how Brandon’s brother had found the babies in the pie tent of the county fair. Was the woman the boys’ mother? The picture was too crude to tell anything of her features or coloring.
The second drawing showed two women with the babies between them. Caroline and Louisa, perhaps? The last showed a woman and a man in a frock coat, holding hands, and the babies circling them. Did someone know about her and Brandon’s past? She willed herself not to blush.
Annie looked around her arm, and Elizabeth hurriedly folded the sheets closed.
“I know,” the girl said. “Those must have come from the Good Samaritan.”
Mrs. Hickey perked up.
“Very likely,” Mrs. Tyson said with a nod. “Someone has been doing good deeds for the triplets since they arrived, but no one has caught sight of the person.”
“Miss Louisa—Mrs. Stillwater—thought it might be the babies’ mother,” Annie said. “But no one’s seen a strange woman in town.”
“Except Miss Dumont,” Mrs. Hickey said, watching Elizabeth.
Was the woman intent on starting that rumor now? Elizabeth opened her mouth to protest, then hesitated. What would they do if she claimed to be the boys’ mother? The Lone Star Cowboy League would be bound to give her the boys. They might even help her support them.
But no, she couldn’t lie. The boys deserved to know their parents, both the ones who had birthed them and the ones who would raise them.
“Miss Dumont arrived in town weeks after the babies were found,” Mrs. Tyson pointed out with a look to Mrs. Hickey. “And she only came at David McKay’s request. She can’t be the triplets’ mother.”
Mrs. Hickey sniffed. “I suppose not. But you tell this Good Samaritan, whoever he is, that I am not the postmaster.” She picked up her skirts