“All right, girls, you know better than to run toward the road,” Flynn began in a stern tone.
But the girls laughed as they jumped up and down, cutting off his reprimand.
Since where they stood was still plenty of distance from the street, Flynn tried not to overreact.
“Cows!” Alice hollered, pointing across the road.
Glancing up, Flynn saw a mild-mannered herd of dairy cattle munching on the grass. “So that was the attraction,” he muttered.
“You have to be wary of small-town dangers,” Cindy agreed in a serious tone. But the twinkle in her eyes gave her away.
“They do look pretty ferocious,” Flynn replied, seeing the cattle’s only movement was the swishing of hairy tails and the methodical chewing of cud.
A tiny giggle escaped even though Cindy was clearly trying to keep it under control. “We have some wild ice-cream socials here in town, too. Gotta be on your guard all the time.”
Flynn glanced down the empty road. “I can see that. There might even be a horse or two in the next pasture over.”
“Horsie!” Beth and Mandy repeated in delight.
“Cow!” Alice insisted.
“Just wait until a new movie comes to town.” Cindy couldn’t repress her grin. “The excitement’s enough to do you in.”
“I think for now the horses and cows will keep us entertained.”
Cindy’s expression was knowing and skeptical. “We’ll talk in six months when the biggest action in town is the fall carnival.”
“I haven’t been to a carnival since I was a kid.” The thought was unexpectedly warming. But Flynn knew what Cindy was driving at. Clearly she thought he would grow tired of small-town life, that Rosewood would lose its appeal. But everything else that had once held appeal for him was now gone. Yet instinctively he felt that the tiny town was right for him. Was it possible he’d been given another chance? Another place to call home?
Chapter Three
“I’m on to you guys,” Cindy told the girls with mock seriousness as she wiped one face, only to see another triplet smear granola cereal across her cheek.
They only giggled more.
Each of the girls was secured in a booster seat, bowls and spoons in the same vicinity, as they sat around the breakfast table with Cindy.
“Here you are,” Flynn greeted them. Awakening only moments earlier, he’d been startled to find all three girls gone from their beds. Passing Cindy’s room, which was next to the girls’, he could see it was empty, as well.
Cindy and his daughters glanced up at him in unison. The girls garbled out greetings mixed with cereal and juice, slurry versions of “Daddy.”
“Morning,” Cindy greeted him.
Flynn was unable to shake the frown from his face. “You didn’t have to do this.”
She shrugged easily. “No big deal. I was up, they got up. So we’re eating.”
“But they’re a lot of trouble to feed and—”
“Not really. Besides, it’s more fun than eating by myself with only the newspaper for company.”
“Oh.” Deflated, he wasn’t certain what to say. For the past year, despite a housekeeper, nannies and sitters, much of his daughters’ care had fallen on him. It was disconcerting to see how easily Cindy took over the chore. “They weren’t up this early the last few days.”
“Takes a while to get settled into a new place. And it’s possible I woke them when I got up.”
“I didn’t hear anything.”
“You’re two rooms over. Besides, like I said, it’s no big deal. Actually, it’s kind of fun.” Mandy decorated her golden, honey-blond hair that moment with a glob of cereal. Cindy laughed aloud as she reached for a damp towel. “For the most part, anyway.”
“I’m up. I can take over.”
“Why don’t you grab some coffee?” Cindy smoothed the towel gently over Mandy’s hair, removing most of the cereal. “No sense jumping in till you’re awake.” She stood just then, moving over to the refrigerator, drawing out a container of organic apple juice.
His mouth opened as he intended to tell her to back off, that these were his children, that he would feed them breakfast. She spun around, however, at that moment her face pulling into a tentative look of speculation. “You know, I may have to take you up on that offer. I got so caught up in the girls I forgot today is Tuesday, my Rainbow class day.”
Pottery, he guessed, or some similar sort of thing. She’d always been involved in one crazy project after another. Julia had reported on her sister’s escapades often enough. But that had only reinforced his opinion. Cindy was fun, reckless and totally without responsibility. He’d finally stopped listening to Julia’s tales, having learned enough about Cindy. He had grown up in a home where fun had been valued over stability and it had ruined all their lives. It was the reason he’d always remained detached from Cindy. Now she was offering him back the responsibility for the girls so she could run off to some mindless class. “Fine.”
She smiled. “I have a few minutes, though, if you’d like that coffee.”
His voice sounded stiff even to his own ears. “It’s not necessary. I have managed to feed them and drink my coffee for the past year.”
Her brows drew together. “Of course, but—”
The phone rang, cutting off her reply.
Flynn could only hear one end of the conversation, but he didn’t need to listen long to learn that it sounded as though she planned to meet half a dozen friends for the day’s outing.
“Fine, I’ll pick up Lisa and Heather on the way, too,” Cindy continued on the phone. She glanced at her watch. “But I’d better run.” She turned back to Flynn after clicking off the phone. “You sure you’re okay on your own? I could make some arrangements if—”
“No. I told you I didn’t want our staying here to interfere with your life.”
“It’s not. It’s just that today—”
“Go,” he replied shortly, sliding into the chair nestled between the girls.
Looking as though she wanted to continue what she was saying, instead Cindy nodded. “I’ll see you later, then.”
That was more like it, he thought to himself after she left the kitchen. He hadn’t asked for or wanted Cindy’s help. Turning back to the girls, he saw that they weren’t happy with her disappearance, though.
“Cinny,” they wailed in unison.
“Daddy’s here.” He comforted them.
“Cinny!” they continued demanding.
“Cereal?” he questioned, pushing a measure of enthusiasm into his voice, staring down at the unfamiliar granola, thinking it didn’t look very appetizing.
But when he glanced up, three minor storms had descended over their faces.
“It wasn’t my idea for her to leave,” he attempted.
Beth, always the loudest of the triplets, banged her spoon on the edge of the table. “Cinny!”
“Okay, time to settle down and eat your breakfast.”
Although they weren’t happy with the request, they eventually