Patricia Johns - The Triplets' Cowboy Daddy

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FROM CITY GIRL TO SINGLE MOMWhen Nora Carpenter becomes sole guardian of her triplet goddaughters, she needs backup—fast. So she heads home to the family ranch in Hope, Montana. But when she arrives, Nora learns that her great-grandparents’ house now belongs to Easton Ross.Easton and Nora used to be friends, back when Easton was a lanky ranch hand who was always there for her. Now he’s a rugged cowboy who hasn’t forgiven her for leaving town. Easton lets Nora and the triplets bunk with him and can’t help falling head over heels for the adorable babies. But Nora can’t stay. For the triplets, living in Hope would mean a lifetime of gossip. And Nora has to put her new daughters first, even if it breaks her own heart.

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FROM CITY GIRL TO SINGLE MOM

When Nora Carpenter becomes sole guardian of her triplet goddaughters, she needs backup—fast. So she heads home to the family ranch in Hope, Montana. But when she arrives, Nora learns that her great-grandparents’ house now belongs to Easton Ross.

Easton and Nora used to be friends, back when Easton was a lanky ranch hand who was always there for her. Now he’s a rugged cowboy who hasn’t forgiven her for leaving town. Easton lets Nora and the triplets bunk with him and can’t help falling head over heels for the adorable babies. But Nora can’t stay. For the triplets, living in Hope would mean a lifetime of gossip. And Nora has to put her new daughters first, even if it breaks her own heart.

Easton glanced at her, then his gaze snapped back on the road.

The moment had been fleeting, but she’d caught something in that eye contact—something deep and warm.

“So you had a crush,” she said, trying to sound normal. She still sounded breathy to her own ears. Bobbie started to whimper in the backseat, and Nora reached over to pop her pacifier back into her mouth.

“It was a weird thing to bond over,” Easton admitted. “But I was the one guy who thought you were just as amazing as your dad did.”

“I kind of knew you had a crush,” she admitted.

“It was more.”

Nora’s heart sped up. She cast about for something to say but couldn’t come up with anything. More than a crush... What was that? Love?

Dear Reader,

I’m a daddy’s girl, and I married a man exactly like my father. They’re both very techy, and they have similar quiet personalities that cover some very big opinions. My dad adored my mom, so when I met my husband and saw him loving me the same way I saw with my parents, I knew everything would be okay.

But what happens if your parents didn’t have the kind of relationship that you want for yourself? That is where this book began—with a simple question: What would I do if I found out my dad had cheated on my mom? And what would that do to me? I confess, I don’t think I’d deal with it gracefully.

I hope you enjoy reading this book as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you’d like to connect with me, you can find me on Facebook or on my blog, patriciajohnsromance.com. I’d love to see you!

Patricia Johns

The Triplets’ Cowboy Daddy

Patricia Johns

The Triplets Cowboy Daddy - изображение 1

www.millsandboon.co.uk

PATRICIA JOHNS has an honors BA in English literature. She lives in Alberta, Canada, with her husband and son, where she writes full-time. Her first Harlequin novel came out in 2013, and you can find her books in the Love Inspired, Harlequin Western Romance and Harlequin Heartwarming lines.

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To my husband and our son.

You are the best choices I ever made.

I love you!

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

Nora Carpenter could have cared for one baby easily enough. She could somehow have juggled two. But three—she’d never imagined that accepting the role of godmother to her half sister’s babies would actually put her into the position of raising those babies on her own. She was still in shock.

Nora stood in her mother’s brilliantly clean farmhouse kitchen, more overwhelmed than she had ever felt in her life. The three infants were still in their car seats, eyes scrunched shut and mouths open in hiccoughing wails. She stood over them, her jeans already stained from spilled formula and her tank top stretched from...she wasn’t even sure what. She unbuckled the first infant—Rosie—and scooped her up. Rosie’s cries subsided as she wriggled up against Nora’s neck, but anxiety still made Nora’s heart race as she fumbled with Riley’s buckle. She’d come back to Hope, Montana, that afternoon so that her mother could help her out, but even that was more complicated than anyone guessed. These babies weren’t just orphans in need of care; they were three tiny reminders that Nora’s father hadn’t been the man they all believed him to be.

Everything had changed—everything but this kitchen. The counters were crumb-free, as they always were, and the room smelled comfortingly, and very faintly, of bleach. Hand-embroidered kitchen towels hung from the stove handle—two of them, one with Monday sewn across the bottom, and one with Thursday. Today was Friday. Unless Dina Carpenter was making jam or doing canning, this was the natural state—immaculate, with no care for properly labeled towels. The babies’ cries echoed through the house.

Rosie, Riley and Roberta had finished their bottles just before Nora’s mother had left for a quick trip to the store for some baby supplies.

“I’ll be fine!” Nora had said. Famous last words. The minute the door shut, the cries had begun, and no amount of cooing or rocking of car seats made a bit of difference.

There was a knock on the back door, and Nora shouted, “Come in!” as she scooped up Riley in her other arm and cuddled both babies close. Riley’s cries stopped almost immediately, too, and that left Roberta—Bobbie, as Nora had nicknamed her—still crying in her car seat, hands balled up into tiny fists.

Nora had no idea who was at the door, and she didn’t care. Whoever walked through that door was about to be put to work. Served them right for dropping by.

“Need a hand?” The voice behind her was deep—and familiar. Nora turned to see Easton Ross, the family’s ranch manager, standing in the open door. He wore jeans and cowboy boots, his shirt pushed up his forearms to reveal ropy muscle. He’d changed a lot since their school days. Back then he’d been a skinny kid, perpetually shorter than she was. Not anymore. He was most definitely a grown man...and she was no longer the one with all the power. When her father died a few months ago, he’d left Easton a piece of property.

“Easton.” She smiled tiredly. “Would you mind picking up Bobbie there? She needs a cuddle.”

Her personal grudge against the man would have to wait.

“Yeah...okay...” He didn’t sound certain, but he crossed the room and squatted in front of the car seat.

“You know how to pick up babies, don’t you?” she asked.

“Uh...sort of.” His face had hardened, his jawline now strong and masculine. He used to have acne as a teenager, but there was no sign of it now. Looking at him squatting there, she realized that she’d missed him more than she’d realized—and that wasn’t just the fact that she didn’t have enough hands right now. And yet, while she’d been away in the city, he’d been here with her dad, building a relationship that her father would reward him with her great-grandparents’ homestead. Bile rose every time she thought about it.

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