Choosing His Family Read online

  When the girls released their holds and stepped back, Reese shyly studied the floor. “I maded you something today at Ms. Lina’s.”

  His heart turned to mush. “That’s the sweetest thing I’ve heard all day. Can I see it?”

  “It’s not here. Mommy said you wouldn’t be here.”

  “Is it at the bunkhouse?”

  Her head bobbed.

  “Maybe we can grab it in a bit, okay?”

  Reese beamed like he’d promised her a trip to Disney World.

  He wanted to hug each of the girls again and whisper in their ears to live long and well and to never get sick, but he cut himself off from doing that. No one could dictate the future, no matter how much Finn craved that very thing.

  The triplets returned to their movie, and like a magnet, his feet led him to Ivy in the kitchen.

  “So you came home to all of this without warning.” Her waving hand encompassed the living room and kitchen. “That’s terrible. I’m so sorry, Finn. We’ve taken over your house and you didn’t even know to expect it. We’ll get out of here. I can pack this up.” She pointed to the dinner with the spatula in her hand. “We can eat at the bunkhouse.”

  The cautious, wounded, messed-up-by-Chrissa side of him said that was a good idea. The lonely, emotionally weary version of himself from today didn’t want them to leave.

  “It’s okay. Stay, please. I could use the distraction.”

  Shock registered on Ivy’s pretty features. He must have surprised her as much as he had himself.

  Sympathy and softness surfaced next. “Rough day?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Any chance you’re interested in some chicken scampi with angel-hair pasta?”

  “If that’s whatever smells so good, then my answer is yes.” Mom had always been the queen of comfort food. Finn felt like he’d been given a strange gift to walk into that happening in his house after the heaviness that had descended on him at the Blairs’.

  While Ivy turned chicken in a frying pan, he rested his forearms across the countertop and let his neck fall forward, stretching the tight muscles. Her hand came to rest between his shoulder blades, comforting and confusing.

  “You don’t have to tell me what happened, but I’m here if you want to.”

  Tilting his head slightly brought their gazes into alignment. Finn was tired of keeping everything to himself. He’d never been like that before the Chrissa fiasco. Charlie was right—he’d been open to everything before—life and love and community. Now he struggled to share about something as simple as his being upset over the Blairs’ situation.

  “There’s a boy at church—Ryan Blair—who has a rare disease. His dad is in my early-morning men’s Bible study, and a handful of us went over to help with some things around the house and to hang shelves in the garage. Ryan’s always in pain, but he had a treatment this week that leveled him.” He swallowed and blinked to combat his flooding emotions. “A kid should never have to suffer like that.”

  “Never ever.” Moisture shimmered in Ivy’s navy eyes. “I saw Ryan listed with his condition on the prayer list in the bulletin at church and felt like I’d been trampled. That’s so hard. I’m sorry, Finn.”

  “Me, too.” He inhaled like a shaky leaf clinging to a branch in November. Ivy left her hand between his shoulder blades, her fingers sprawled. She bowed her head, her lids falling shut. Her lips moved as if she was praying, but she didn’t speak out loud.

  Slowly, the weight lifted and eased.

  When she was done, her hand fell away, and for the first time, Finn let himself really see her. “Thank you.”

  Her smile was tinged with sorrow that matched his. “Anytime.”

  “How can I help with dinner?”

  “There’s some bread in the oven. If you can take that out and slice it, that would be great.”

  Finn did as directed, scavenging for a cutting board that he’d used only a handful of times. “Tell me about your day.”

  Ivy must have recognized his need for distraction, because she didn’t argue. “I’m working on hiring staff for the café right now.” She removed the chicken from the pan, plated and covered it. “Charlie asked me to interview Kaia Delaney but said she doesn’t want to be directly involved in the decision to hire her because of her relationship with Ryker. So—” her exhale spoke volumes “—I interviewed her today along with a few other candidates. No pressure or anything.”

  “That’s a ton of pressure.” Finn understood where Charlie was coming from, but that was a lot to put on Ivy.

  “We’re going to discuss all of the candidates tomorrow, so it’s not like the decision is solely mine, but I’m sure my opinion will sway things in a certain direction.”

  The scent of the bread wafted, igniting Finn’s taste buds as he sliced. “At least you’re meeting to talk through the options, but yeah, that’s a tough one.”

  Ivy added oil and strips of onions and bell peppers to the pan. “The problem is... I liked Kaia. A lot. She was open about what she’s been through—her addiction, losing Honor, battling to gain back custody and to stay clean. I see so much of myself in her. She’s a fighter, and I like to think I’m one, too.”

  “You definitely are.”

  She paused from stirring the vegetables. “Thank you. Now tell me about the rest of your day. Before the rough ending.”

  “It was good, actually. C. C. Leap came by today and helped me analyze the land. He was at the cattlemen’s dinner. I’m not sure if you remember him. Gray hair. Really bushy eyebrows. Looks like a grouch but he’s nice when you talk to him.”

  “I do remember him.” She turned the heat off under the vegetables, leaving them to sit as she poured the sauce she’d made over the pasta that had already finished cooking.

  “I’d wondered if the Burkes had overused the land, and according to C.C., this ranch has been used hard for decades. He helped me come up with a plan for dividing grazing into smaller pastures so that grass can regrow. He also suggested I remove the juniper trees. Says they’re eating up the water supply.”

  Ivy stirred the pasta and sauce together, then added the peppers and onions to the mix before adding chicken on top. Finn’s taste buds watered as she drizzled the remaining sauce over the chicken and added fresh parmesan cheese.

  “That’s amazing. You’re going to make this ranch so successful, Finn. Of that I have no doubt. Too bad I won’t be around to see it.”

  For all of his frustrations over Ivy and the girls’ arrival and extended stay, the reminder that they were leaving after the café opened should be a relief.

  The fact that it wasn’t made him more than a little concerned.

  Chapter Eight

  Ivy had the girls pause their movie and wash their hands as she and Finn carried over the dinner items.

  Once they were all seated, Finn prayed and then they dug in.

  Reese and Lola didn’t appreciate the peppers and onions in the dish, covertly shoving them to the side of their plates. Sage wasn’t as picky when it came to food.

  “I jumped off a wall today.” Sage chose a moment with her mouth full of food to announce her feat. “Then I tried to get Lola and Reese to do it, but they were too scaaared.” She extended the word, taunting her sisters.

  “What kind of wall? And where?”

  “At Ms. Lina’s. In her backyard.”

  Ivy was always amazed by the stories the girls told her about their day. Ms. Lina said it was the same at her place—and that some of the things they said about Ivy were hilarious. They’d both agreed not to believe anything outrageous about the other until they’d gone to the source.

  “It was only this big, Mommy.” Sage had thankfully finished chewing. She held up her hand about three feet off the ground, and Ivy’s heart rate went from racing to idling.

  “I wasn’t scared!�
�� Lola stabbed a piece of chicken with her fork. “I had on my purple flats and I didn’t want to get them dirty.”

  “And I didn’t have my sweatshirt on, and I was cold, and besides-ed, Ms. Lina had told us not to, so I went back inside.” Reese sniffled at the offense.

  “You were both being chickens!” Sage held her fork in the air like a sword, and a wad of pasta flew off it and slid down the table, landing in a heap in front of Finn’s plate. Stoically, he scooped them up with his fork and inserted them in his mouth.

  The girls erupted in giggles.

  Lola banged her palm on the table. “Do it again, Mista Finn!”

  “Really?” Ivy raised eyebrows at him, torn between humor and exasperation. “You’re not helping anything, Mista Finn.”

  His eyes were full of boyish mischief.

  “I do it, too!” Reese had her fork poised and was about to pull back and let the contents fly.

  “No.” Ivy lunged, stopping her wrist before she could flick the food. “No more.” She focused her amused frustration on Finn. “I was just about to say that now they’re going to think it’s funny and all try to do it.”

  Sage was scooping up another mound of pasta, of course not listening to Ivy in the least.

  “Wait.” Finn held up a hand. “No more food shenanigans. Listen to your mom, or we’ll all get in trouble.”

  The man was trouble all right.

  “What’s a shen-i-gan?” Reese asked.

  “It’s when three little girls mess around.” Finn’s pieced-together definition made Ivy smile. There were definitely plenty of shenanigans happening on a daily basis in her life.

  “Let’s go back to eating the proper way, please. Napkins in our laps. Forks used to put food in our mouths and not anywhere else.”

  Lola rolled her eyes. “But that’s so boring, Mommy.”

  “I know. That’s what’s so wonderful about it. It’s later than we normally eat dinner, so I don’t want to hear requests for snacks when we get home. This is it for tonight, so make it count.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Finn’s response earned more giggles from the girls, but then they focused their attention on their food.

  Even with Ivy’s warning to be sure and eat enough, the girls finished quickly. Their attention spans never lasted long at any meal. She would imagine the first request for a snack would clock in less than thirty minutes from now.

  Ivy had them take their plates to the sink and wash their hands.

  “Can we watch the rest of our movie? Please?” All three of them asked at once, and Ivy pretended to contemplate her answer even though she’d already planned to say yes.

  “Will you be good when it’s time for bed? No complaining or crying or staying up late bugging each other?”

  Three heads bobbed, sealing the deal.

  “Okay, you can finish the movie.”

  When Ivy turned back to her plate, Finn’s cheeks were creased with amusement. “You just got all of that out of them when you were planning to let them watch the movie anyway.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “You still have laundry going, don’t you?”

  She gave a sheepish shrug. “I use whatever bargaining tools I can. It’s three against one!”

  Letting them zone out with a movie tonight had been a mini vacation. A break from the normal routine. They’d all needed the evening off—even Finn, it seemed.

  The jolt of panic Ivy had first felt when Finn walked through the door tonight had quickly faded. He’d made things comfortable. If he was faking being okay with them hijacking his house, he was good at it.

  And in the process, she’d gotten to do something for him. Something to prove she wasn’t here to take, take, take.

  “This should be our deal,” Ivy said as Finn swiped up sauce with a piece of bread. He’d taken seconds and then thirds. A win in her book. “You won’t let me pay anything for using the bunkhouse, so—”

  “The place isn’t worthy of rent. It’s unfinished. Surely you can’t argue with that.”

  “It does make it hard to fight. That’s why I’m thinking I’ll make another meal for you next week. You like food.”

  “Caveman like food.”

  She laughed at his low, gravely delivery. “I really love to cook, so it’s not an imposition for me.”

  “My mom enjoys cooking, too. Charlie? Not so much.”

  “She has other things occupying her brain. Like running her empires.” This time she earned a chuckle from Finn. “Unless you’re sick of us, I’m cooking again next week. So you’re going to have to be brutally honest with me if you’d rather not have us here.”

  Finn contemplated, and Ivy found herself holding her breath. “It’s not that. Having the girls here...and you here, is great. But the last thing you need is another something on your to-do list. You’re raising three three-year-olds, which is enough work on its own. Stop with the payment stuff. Charlie was right—it wasn’t like I was using the bunkhouse anyway or renting it out. Besides, it’s only for a few more weeks. Just...don’t worry about it.”

  A few more weeks. Things were going fast, that was for sure. When Ivy had said yes to Charlie, six weeks had sounded like a good chunk of time. Now? It was flying by. She was going to miss this place when they moved.

  “Let’s plan on next Wednesday for dinner.”

  Finn’s eyes crinkled. “I’m not going to win this argument, am I?”

  “Not a chance.”

  “Okay, dinner next Wednesday it is. But just so you know, you’ve ruined me for my typical fare—which is freezer meals. This was actually quite cruel of you.”

  “My apologies.”

  “I’ll work on forgiving you.” Finn stacked both of their plates and stood. “You cooked. I’ll do dishes.”

  Ivy sat back in surprise. With Lee, she’d always been on her own. Even in marriage, she’d felt disconnected. But after spending time with Finn, she could tell his relationships would operate as a team. A surge of jealousy and yearning surfaced. Someday maybe she’d find that. Someday when her world calmed down and the girls were older. Maybe then she’d take her time and find the right kind of guy. One who also wanted to sign up for raising triplets. She almost snorted out loud. Highly unlikely.

  “We’ll do the dishes together. It’s faster that way.”

  Finn didn’t fight her, so that was what they did. They talked easily, finding a rhythm. Ivy was also going to miss this man when they moved on. He was definitely an anomaly. Or maybe it’s all for show. I can’t really know who he is this fast. He could be hiding plenty from me, just like Lee.

  In the beginning, Lee hadn’t so much hidden things from her as he’d only shown her one side. Like a girl knowing which angle to pose in for a selfie in order to make herself look good.

  And Ivy had been all too willing not to move the camera.

  Since she’d made a double batch of the chicken scampi and pasta, Ivy split the leftovers into two and left one in Finn’s fridge for him to find the next day.

  When she came out from grabbing the last load of laundry, Finn was on the couch and her three girls were literally draped across him. Sage was on the back of the couch tucked against his neck, her fingers a pacifier, Reese was nestled in the crook of his arm, and Lola had taken the liberty of crawling directly into his lap.

  “This is what you get for sitting down with them while they’re watching a movie.” Ivy chose the cushion at the other end of the couch and placed the laundry bin on the coffee table. Maybe she should fold it at home, and they should get out of Finn’s way. They’d imposed plenty already, and he’d been incredibly gracious.

  “Let’s watch the last bit of your movie at home. Okay, loves?” She tickled the bottom of Reese’s foot, earning a giggle and a kick.

  “They can finish it here.” Finn’s response was followed
by a yawn. Ivy wasn’t sure whether to believe him, but he didn’t exactly look uncomfortable.

  “Yeah, Mommy.” Lola shot her some side-eye from Finn’s lap. “Mista Finn says we can finish it here.”

  “I like Mista Finn’s house better than ours.” Sage piped up from the back of the couch.

  “Me, too,” Reese agreed. “And if we leave, Mista Finn would miss the ending.”

  His smile swung in Ivy’s direction, and hers grew to match. “I wouldn’t survive not knowing how the movie ends.”

  “Of course you wouldn’t.”

  Four against one. With the triplets using Finn like a beanbag chair, how was Ivy supposed to argue?

  During the remainder of the movie, she didn’t see the animation on the screen. She only saw that her girls were falling for Finn. And she was starting to fear that the strange squeeze in her stomach when she was near him or thought about him meant she was treading dangerously close to the same.

  * * *

  In high school, Finn had dated a girl for about six months. Once, when they’d been watching a movie, she’d fallen asleep tucked against his arm. His arm had also fallen asleep. It had been a painfully good place to be, and he hadn’t moved even though he’d suffered through the end of that movie.

  This time it was three little monkeys who’d taken over his personal space, and once again he was incredibly uncomfortable and strangely content at the same time.

  Reese, the most cautious of the three, had snuggled against his side. She’d fallen asleep first, and her little features were so peaceful that his grinch’s heart had grown three sizes.

  Lola had been trying to make it to the end of the movie, fighting back heavy eyelids and extended yawns, but eventually she’d conked out.

  Sage was the only one still standing, though her fidgeting from the back of the couch had lessened considerably.

  Ivy returned from the bunkhouse. She’d taken a couple of trips over with laundry as the movie finished and now returned the basket to his laundry room. She walked into the living room as the movie credits rolled and turned off the TV.