“He passed away almost five years ago.”
She wondered at the harshness of his voice. “You must miss him a lot.”
“Not as much as you’d expect.” Seeing the surprise and curiosity in her study of him, he added, “He wasn’t a nice man.”
“I’m truly sorry to hear that.”
His hand paused halfway to his mouth with another bite of pie on his fork. “Not half as sorry as Brandon and I were to live with it.” He lowered his fork to his plate with the pie still there. “I’m sorry. I don’t usually grouse about my past. Forget I said anything.” A beat of regret, and then he tipped his head toward her plate. “You haven’t tasted it yet.”
She took a bite, chewed slowly and let the flavors lie on her tongue a moment before she swallowed.
“How is it?” he asked.
“A little too sweet for my taste, but then, I’m somewhat of a pie judge myself.”
He leaned forward. “How’s that?”
She chuckled softly. “I’ve taken care of my mother and sister, who is five years younger than me, and run the house since I was twelve years old. Of course, we had a part-time housekeeper, as well.” Father had insisted she attend classes. Not that Louisa objected. At that point she’d still harbored her dream to become a doctor. “Her name was Mrs. Keaton and she taught me how to bake all sorts of things. Year after year, her pies won the blue ribbon at the local fair, so you might say I had an excellent teacher.”
“You would have liked my ma, then. She was an excellent pie baker.” He cleaned his plate. “Not that we had pie very often.”
That seemed a curious remark. “Why is that?”
“Ma saved it for special occasions.”
A note of sadness in his voice made her ask, “What constituted a special occasion?”
He gave a laugh totally devoid of humor. “Father being away.”
She didn’t need any more details to understand Bo and Brandon had suffered under their father. How sad. She glanced past him to the sleeping babies. She couldn’t imagine treating them poorly or standing by while someone else did. Though they might well grow up to be mischievous and need a firm hand. Who would provide it for them?
“Sorry. Didn’t I just say I wasn’t going to bemoan my past?”
“Seems one’s past is a building block of one’s present and perhaps one’s future.” When had she grown so philosophical? She expected him to laugh but he only raised his eyebrows.
“That makes me curious. What shape does your past building block take?”
“Well, I have always had a loving family, so I count myself fortunate.”
“No suitors?”
This conversation was getting far too personal. After Wes she had no time or inclination for courting. His painful rejection had taught her a valuable lesson. His words still echoed in her head. Look in the mirror, honey. You aren’t worth waiting for. “Care for another piece of pie?”
“No, thanks. Save them for yourself to eat later.”
She felt the steady watchfulness of his unusually colored eyes and looked everywhere but at him. He did not need to know the details of her personal life. She was about to ask him how the fair was going...hoping he would understand it as a gentle hint to return to the grounds, when one of the babies fussed. Before she could get to her feet, all three cried.
She rushed into the room to rescue them. Bo followed on her heels but stood back, looking both lost and afraid. Afraid? Bo Stillwater? How could that be? But she didn’t have time to think of anything but crying babies. She scooped up Theo first, realizing he would become upset faster than his brothers. But how could she comfort him and tend to the other two?
Bo was there. She’d take advantage of another set of arms. “Could you hold him?”
He stepped back. “You saw me earlier. I don’t know anything about babies.”
“No time like the present to correct that. Sit there.” She indicated the armchair.
He sat, or rather, he perched on the edge of the cushion. The volume of the crying intensified.
“Sit back.” He barely got himself pushed to the back of the chair before she put Theo on his lap. He looked uncomfortable, but she needed his help so ignored it. She grabbed his hand and pulled his arm around the baby.
Theo shuddered a sob and then gave Bo a crooked, watery-eyed grin.
Bo grinned back.
Louisa hurried to the other two. Eli wriggled away and she caught him halfway across the floor, scooped him up and perched him on Bo’s other knee. Eli ducked his head, shy before this big man, but Theo jabbered at his brother and they smiled at each other.
Now to take care of Jasper. She picked him up, crooning a comforting tune, but he continued to fuss, rubbing his ears. “Time to put some drops in there, isn’t it?” She headed for the kitchen to prepare the oil but stopped in the doorway. “Can you take care of those two while I tend Jasper’s ears?”
“It seems I have no choice.”
She couldn’t tell if it was regret or something else that deepened his voice. Nor did she have time to dwell on it. She rushed about putting warm oil in Jasper’s ears, then returned to the other room. Took Theo and left Jasper in his place. She tended his ears as well, then gave him back to Bo and tended Theo. None of them seemed fevered at the moment. Perhaps they were over the worst.
She was happy about that, except once they were better, the babies would go to a home. As they should. It was purely selfish on her part to want to keep them longer. “No sign of the mother?”
“We’re still looking.”
“Have you arranged a home for them until you find her?” she asked as she returned to the living room. With Jasper perched on her hip, she gathered up the quilt and draped it over the sofa.
“Not yet. As everyone says, three babies is a lot.”
She looked at the two sitting on his knee, touching each other’s fingers and smiling. Jasper sat happily enough on her hip. “I don’t know. At the moment, it looks like exactly the right amount.” She studied him openly. “For a man with no experience, you seem to have a knack for this. You’ll make a good father.”
He shook his head vehemently. “No. Fatherhood is not for me.”
“Why ever not?” He was tall, broad shouldered, good-looking, had the attention of all the young ladies in the community. Seemed he had everything needed to find a perfect mate and raise a bunch of sweet little Stillwater offspring. Heat raced up her throat at the wayward trail her thoughts had taken.
“I fear I would turn out to be like my father.”
She blinked twice. Thankfully he wasn’t looking at her so wouldn’t have cause to think she looked like a startled rabbit. “I’ve only been here a short time but I have certainly not seen or heard anything to that effect.”
“Good. Then what I’m doing is working.” He sat the babies on the floor and strode to the door. “I must get back to the fair.” He paused as if realizing that he left her to manage three babies on her own.
Not that she couldn’t do it. But it had been nice to not feel so alone and overwhelmed. The poor mother. How had she coped? “I hope you can find their mother.”
“I’ll do my best.” Still he hesitated. “Will you be able to manage them?”
Her throat tightened. No one ever asked if she could handle her responsibilities. And she’d never suggested to anyone that she couldn’t. Her opinion