Choosing His Family Read online

  “I’m not asking you to leave.”

  “You’re not asking us to stay, either.”

  “Can the one be enough?” Finn’s pulse faltered then revved. She needed this time in Westbend, and who was Finn to steal that from her?

  Ivy studied him, contemplative. Pretty. Even prettier now that he’d seen her heart on her sleeve while she’d worked alongside him tonight. “Maybe. I do need the place if I’m going to stay in Westbend with the girls. And the first week of work at the café has been great. It made me feel valuable and alive again. Not that the girls don’t do that. They do. But I want them to know the version of their mom who existed ten years ago.”

  “I’m looking at that woman right now. I don’t know where you think she went, but everything you’ve done since you arrived here matches everything you just said about that old version of yourself.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” Finn could only pray he wouldn’t come to regret passing up the second opportunity he’d had to send Ivy away...

  Jill Lynn pens stories filled with humor, faith and happily-ever-afters. She’s an ACFW Carol Award–winning author and has a bachelor’s degree in communications from Bethel University. An avid fan of thrift stores, summer and coffee, she lives in Colorado with her husband and two children, who make her laugh on a daily basis. Connect with her at jill-lynn.com.

  Books by Jill Lynn

  Love Inspired

  Colorado Grooms

  The Rancher’s Surprise Daughter

  The Rancher’s Unexpected Baby

  The Bull Rider’s Secret

  Her Hidden Hope

  Raising Honor

  Choosing His Family

  Falling for Texas

  Her Texas Family

  Her Texas Cowboy

  Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com.

  CHOOSING HIS FAMILY

  Jill Lynn

  Trust in the LORD with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.

  —Proverbs 3:5–6

  To God be the glory

  Contents

  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

  Dear Reader

  Excerpt from His Dry Creek Inheritance by Janet Tronstad

  Chapter One

  Spring snow pummeled Finn Brightwood’s windshield as his tires turned to ice skates beneath his vehicle, a fitting representation of the predicament he’d somehow gotten himself roped into.

  He tapped the brakes, righted the truck and managed to stay in his lane. Thankfully, hardly anyone was out tonight, so there was no vehicle behind him or coming his way. He’d been to Denver despite the weather, because he hadn’t believed the report—they were wrong so often. But if anything, tonight’s dump of white moisture had amounted to even more than had been expected. With a four-wheel drive vehicle beneath him and years of snow driving experience, he’d be fine. It was the rest of the world he had concerns about.

  The trip to Denver had been a necessity he’d happily have avoided, but the local cattlemen’s group had decided—without his consent—that as their newest member, he should host their annual dinner. Unfortunately, since he’d purchased the Burke ranch last fall, he more than fit the newbie description. And now, despite having no idea how to host a dinner—or party or whatever they wanted to call it—for thirty people, he was a handful of days away from doing exactly that.

  Which explained his trip tonight—he’d needed more supplies than Len’s Grocery in the small town of Westbend could provide, though he’d purchased what he could there first.

  His headlights brightened the snow lining the ditch and the flash of tire tracks that cut through the growing depth.

  Tire tracks? Had he seen that right? There’d been no vehicle to go with the tracks. Maybe the snow had just blown a certain way, creating the illusion...or maybe there was someone who’d gone off the road.

  Finn scanned his rearview mirror for approaching traffic. Not spotting any, he slowed to a stop in his lane. He’d never sleep if he didn’t check on whether his eyes had deceived him.

  Since no one was approaching from behind, he reversed until just after where he’d noticed the break in the snow. Sure enough, tracks cut through the white. And they were filling in quickly with the additional accumulation. Another hour and they likely wouldn’t be visible.

  He could call for help. But what if whoever it was had already been rescued? He’d investigate first, then decide. Finn parked on the shoulder, donned his Carhartt jacket and grabbed the gloves and hat he kept in his truck console along with his flashlight. He’d worn his wool-lined leather boots tonight, so they’d hold up fine. And his jeans—not exactly snow gear, but they’d do.

  He hopped out—the snow spitting at him like a wildcat with icy claws—and strode to the start of the tracks. His first sweep came up empty. He went slower the second time, the beam from his flashlight barely reaching far enough to help him.

  There—near a small pack of evergreens, the tail end of a vehicle protruded. Thankfully, this part of the road didn’t veer straight into a cliff. He started down the hill, the snow slipping and sliding underneath him.

  The SUV must have been crawling when it connected with the trees, because it looked as if the damage to the hood and bumper was minimal.

  He approached the driver’s door. “Hello—are you okay in there?”

  No answer came from the body leaning against the window, but a wail sounded from somewhere inside. Finn eased open the driver’s door, which was fortunately unlocked, catching the woman who’d been propped against the window before she tumbled out.

  “Ma’am? Are you awake?”

  She blinked once, twice, her confusion evident. There was no blood that Finn could find, but the crying multiplied. He peered into the back seat, and then he was the one blinking. Not one, not two, but three little girls filled the row. They were strapped into car seats and, based on the lung power they were packing into those wails, seemed to be relatively uninjured.

  “I’ll check on your kids.” Finn let her door close to keep in the heat. He fumbled for his phone while switching to open the back door. “Hey, girls.” He kept his voice even-keeled. “Everything’s going to be okay.” As long as your mom isn’t injured beyond what I can see. But she was wearing her seat belt, so she hadn’t gone too far from home base. Finn would guess she’d knocked her head against something on the way down the slope.

  One of the girls—the one farthest from him—continued shrieking. The one in the middle stuck two fingers in her mouth. The one closest to the door he’d opened launched into a slew of questions.

  “Is Mommy okay? What happened? Why was it so loud? We went—” She made a roller-coaster motion with her hand.

  “I know you did.” Poor kid. “I’m working on getting you girls and your mama some help, just hang tight. I’m going to shut this door to keep the heat in, but I’ll be right outside on the phone, okay?”

  Finn closed the door and dialed 911. He explained what he knew of the situation and detailed their location. The operator said help was on the wa
y, though of course the night had produced plenty of accidents and crews were diligently assisting everyone in need.

  Directly after he hung up, Finn’s phone rang. His sister, Charlie. If he didn’t answer, she’d worry. She knew he’d driven to Denver tonight.

  Finn gave her a thirty-second snapshot of what he’d stumbled across.

  “Do you need anything? Do they? What can I do to help?”

  “Nothing. Just stay home. The weather is nuts. Please don’t go out in it,” he continued before she could protest. “I’ve got to go. I’ll update you later.”

  He moved back to the front door and opened it again. “How’re you doing up here?”

  This time the mama hen was alive and well. She clucked over the girls in the back seat, checking for broken bones and signs of blood. He waited for her to assure herself they were fine—or at least close to it.

  When she turned back to face him, he continued, “I called for help to get you out. I’m not sure how long it will be before they arrive, so I’m going to climb in the passenger seat and wait with you all. Okay?”

  Distrust radiated from her, and while Finn understood it, he certainly wasn’t going to leave the four of them alone. So he did what he’d planned to do and added himself to the mix.

  Once he shut the passenger door, a hushed warmth replaced the swirling, angry snow.

  “How did you find us? The minute we started sliding off the road, I had this flash of fear that no one would ever know we were down here.” Her SUV boasted Connecticut plates. The real question was, how in the world had the four of them ended up here?

  “I was driving back from Denver and saw your tracks in the snow. Thought I was imagining things at first, but then I decided to double-check.”

  A crack in her wariness surfaced, and she softened. “Thank you. I can’t imagine what would have happened to us if you hadn’t.”

  He wanted to tell her everything would have been okay. That she would have woken up, called someone, gotten help. But the truth was, he didn’t know what would have gone down.

  Thank You, God, for the nudge that made me turn back.

  “I’m Finn.”

  “Ivy.” She wore a knit hat over blond locks that skimmed her shoulders, and her features were petite. She shifted toward the back seat. “These are my girls. Lola, Sage and Reese.”

  The trio matched their mama in hair color, and at least two of them—Reese and Sage—also shared their mother’s distrust. Lola was the one who’d launched into an inquisition when he opened the back door.

  “How’s everyone doing back there?”

  “We went—” Lola made the same motion she had earlier, but with a few more loops and dips involved this time, like a fisherman embellishing the story. That had to be a good sign. Reese continued to whimper, and Sage kept the same two fingers in her mouth like a plug. His gaze slid back to Ivy. “Any injuries?”

  “Not that I can tell. Everyone seems intact. Please let it be so.” Her eyes welled at that, and Finn felt that familiar sense of compassion—the one that got him into trouble—swamp him.

  “It’s going to be okay. We’re getting help.”

  “I’m not sure there’s enough help in all the world for the mess we’re in.” She said it under her breath, as if it wasn’t meant for him, but he heard it just the same. And it sent warning sirens blaring, because assisting someone on the side of the road was one thing, but Finn couldn’t get involved with another damsel in distress.

  Not when the last one had absolutely demolished him.

  * * *

  Ivy Darling woke the next morning to faint light gliding through blinds, her mind instantly filling with last night’s events—flashing emergency lights, panic over her girls and the unexpected kindness of two strangers.

  Two, because not only had Finn stopped to help them, but his sister, Charlie—a redheaded spitfire—had shown up shortly after his arrival. Around the same time as the emergency crews.

  Finn had growled at Charlie, I told you not to come.

  Charlie had chirped back at him, We both know I don’t listen very well.

  Ivy had instantly liked Charlie, and Finn’s concern for his sister’s well-being had also upped her trust levels for him. Charlie had brought blankets, toys, snacks and drinks for the girls, explaining that she used to foster-parent and had gotten into the habit of keeping supplies at her apartment. She’d been a comfort and a godsend, and when the paramedics had given the triplets the all clear medically but tried to insist that Ivy go to the hospital to get checked out, Charlie had been the one to support Ivy’s definite no.

  As if she could have left her girls. Charlie had understood. She’d bundled them up and brought them here—to Finn’s ranch house. Charlie had insisted on staying with her and the girls throughout the night to make sure everyone was okay.

  Ivy moved to a sitting position on the couch she occupied, her body quickly announcing its dissatisfaction with her movement.

  Her muscles were like meat that had been tenderized, and her head... She could use a dose of extra-strength ibuprofen. But her girls were alive and well, and nothing else mattered. They were laid out like three-year-old burritos on the floor, with lots of blankets and pillows, and Ivy’s Good Samaritan, Charlie, slept on the recliner chair across from her. She’d checked on Ivy numerous times last night and now finally slept.

  Ivy could safely say she’d never met anyone like these people. Once she continued on with their journey to her parents’ house in California, she probably wouldn’t ever again.

  Wrapping the blanket around her, Ivy eased off the couch. If she stayed here, she’d wake everyone else with her movements. She wandered from the den toward the kitchen, the smell of coffee overruling her awkwardness at finding herself in a stranger’s home.

  Thankfully, she’d been able to find something comfortable from her own clothes to wear for sleeping. At her request, Finn had fished out their overnight bags from the Suburban before it had been towed into town.

  The man who’d stopped to rescue them sat at the dining room table, some papers along with a mug of coffee in front of him. No lights were on, but the quiet glow of morning was slipping through the windows, a faint blue hue dancing off the fresh snow and illuminating the mountains that surrounded the ranch.

  The great room had a stone fireplace that rose to the ceiling and was flanked on both sides by windows. With beams traversing the ceiling and dark leather furniture dotting the space, it was something out of a Western magazine. Ivy wouldn’t be surprised to find an antique gun mounted over the front door.

  She paused in the doorway, unsure whether Finn knew she was there, whether to enter.

  “Coffee’s in the pot. Mugs are in the cupboard above.”

  “Thanks.” She followed the best scent in the world and found a white mug. From her quick glimpse around the place, she observed everything was simple with clean lines...even down to the dishes. Definitely not a woman’s touch in the house, but it was still tasteful, and Ivy felt strangely comfortable. Probably Charlie had something to do with that. When Ivy had protested staying here last night, Charlie had shut her down quickly.

  Where else are you going to go?

  A hotel. There has to be one in town.

  There’s a motel, but then what? You don’t have a vehicle. And I’m not sure I trust that you’re truly okay. I’m the one who backed you not going to the hospital tonight. Charlie’s gaze had encompassed the girls. And I understand why. But now you have to give me this. Let me check up on you all tonight and make sure you’re okay. Otherwise I’ll be panicking that you’re having issues while you’re alone with the girls.

  That argument had won Ivy over. She might not want to need help, but resisting it last night could have been detrimental to the triplets. She couldn’t risk her pride causing them harm.

  Ivy poured coffee into her cup, stea
m rising, and lifted it to her nose to inhale. Dark roast, she would guess. God bless Finn.

  “My sister left some of her little creamers here. Above the mugs.”

  Ivy found them and added a small dollop. “God bless Charlie,” she murmured before bringing the liquid to her lips. Finn’s mouth crinkled slightly as if he was amused by her, and he went from stoic to appealing in a flash.

  Should she sit at the table with him? Or cross over to the couch and chairs filling the great room?

  She chose the table but went one seat down so that she wasn’t directly across from Finn and they weren’t forced to make awkward eye contact.

  “I don’t know how to thank you and your sister for rescuing us last night.”

  “You don’t need to. Besides, we both know she was the one who demanded you all sleep here so she could check on you and the girls, so let’s give credit where it’s due.”

  “You were the one who saw our tracks and stopped, so...”

  A slight shrug came from the man, but that was the only acknowledgment he gave. A slight shrug and another one of those almost smiles. Ivy strangely wanted to earn a full one.

  His expression morphed into a scowl when his attention went back to the notes in front of him.

  “I hope it’s not my presence making you that upset. I can go, drink my coffee somewhere else and let you be.”

  “It’s not you. I just...” He groaned. “I’m supposed to host the local cattlemen’s dinner on Saturday night, and I don’t have a clue what I’m doing. That’s why I was in Denver last night—grabbing supplies—or I wouldn’t have driven past you on my way back to the ranch.”

  Ivy had exited the freeway hoping to escape the storm and find lodging to wait it out. She’d never imagined any of what had followed. Thank You, God, for sending Finn and Charlie when You did.

  “My whole life back in Connecticut was hosting dinner parties and schmoozing clients for my husband.”

  “Was?”

  “Yes...my husband passed away. He took his own life after he was caught embezzling from his employer.” Ugh. Ivy’s lids shuttered. “I’m not sure why I shared all of that.”