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“Who’s who?” Brooke asked, smiling at the four-year-old triplets. They were absolutely precious girls. Arabella’s worthless ex-husband had no idea what gifts he’d tossed away like yesterday’s garbage. She wondered how her cousin had managed on her own with three small babies, Grandpa George and now a foster daughter. Arabella was a kind a gentle soul to put up with their cantankerous old grandfather, a saint with the strength of a lion. She was beautiful, too, with dark, silky hair and brown eyes, though she probably didn’t realize it.
“Everyone asks that,” Arabella said with a chuckle. “Jessie is at the end. Jamie’s the one with the teddy bear on her lap and Julie has the dirty face. Girls, say hello to Brooke.”
Three of the cutest faces, too similar to tell apart, grinned up at her with their daddy’s smile and Arabella’s brown eyes. “Hi. You like tea?”
The speaker, if Brooke remembered correctly, was Julie. “I love tea. Looks like you girls are having a great tea party. Got any cookies to go with your delicious drink?”
“Uh-huh. We’ll share.” Jessie carefully placed a vanilla wafer on a tiny plastic saucer adorned in pink princess print and offered it to Brooke. “Mom says we have to.”
Brooke laughed. “Thank you, I think. You have lovely manners.”
Arabella rolled her eyes. “We’re working on those.” She indicated the sofa. “Sit down, Brooke. I’m glad to see you back. Are you home for good?”
Brooke nodded, accepting the tea cup and saucer the triplets provided. “Well, let’s just say I’m here for the year if I can hold out.”
Arabella folded one leg beneath her to sit in the chair next to her triplets. “Have you talked to any of the others since the funeral?”
“Zach and Vivienne. Zach is trying to work things out with his job. Vivienne is still iffy. I’m worried she may not come.” With the triplets waiting for her reaction to the “tea,” Brooke sipped. “Yum. Which of you made this?”
All three giggled. Dark curls bounced around their cherub faces. “It’s water tea.”
“The best kind.” She nipped the edge of her cookie and, to please her hostesses, moaned appreciatively. The triplets exchanged delighted glances.
“Vivienne has a fabulous life in New York, but I keep praying she’ll find a way to take off a year. I worry that Mei was right and we’ll have a difficult time getting everyone home for that length of time,” Arabella said. “I’ve tried to call Lucas, but he’s not answering.”
“Think about it, Arabella. What are we supposed to do in Clayton for an entire year? We need jobs and money to live on until—and if—the inheritance comes.” She absently reached over and offered a sip of “tea” to the teddy bear. “I can’t imagine living the life of an heiress anyway. I need to be busy.”
“Then get a job.”
The thought of Gabe’s offer loomed large and terrifying. “The Cowboy Café is overloaded with help. The church mostly uses volunteers. Most of the stores are run by the owners and their families.”
“People are getting jobs at the old silver mine,” Arabella said. “Right now, I think they’re hiring mostly men for dirty, cleanup work, but I guess if you’re interested in that sort of thing, the manager couldn’t discriminate.”
“I’m not interested. Besides, the owner, Gabe Wesson, lives next door to me.”
Her cousin looked intrigued. “I’d heard he bought Doc Abrams’ place. What do you think of him? I’ve seen him in the café and at church. He seems nice.”
Gabe’s handsome face flashed before her eyes. “He is.”
“Wait a minute.” Arabella held up a finger in thought. “Kylie said Gabe had come into the café asking about a nanny for his little boy. You could do that.”
Brooke was already shaking her head. She sat her empty cup on the table. “He asked. I said no.”
“Why? Is the little boy a handful or something?”
“Oh, nothing like that. A.J. is absolutely the sweetest thing. Anybody would love caring for him.”
