Detective Barelli's Legendary Triplets

by Melissa Senate

  “Not like I have much choice,” she said.

  “Uh, Norah, a little more gently with that spoon,” her mother said from her station across the kitchen. “The potatoes aren’t Reed.”

  Norah took a deep breath and let up on the stirring. She offered her mom a commiserating smile. “I’ll be okay. The potatoes will be okay. The only one who won’t be okay is that stubborn brick wall I married by accident.”

  “Fight for him!” Cheyenne said. “The man is so used to being a lone wolf that he doesn’t feel comfortable having a real-life partner. He’s just not used to it. But he likes being married or he wouldn’t have suggested staying married—no matter what.”

  Norah had thought of that. Her mind had latched on to so many hopeful possibilities last night. But then she’d come back to all he’d said on the terrace in Las Vegas. “He’s giving up the ranch to undo it,” Norah reminded her aunt.

  “Because he thinks you’re losing out,” her mother said, filling six pie crusts with the fragrant beef stew she and Cheyenne had been working on this morning. “He wants you to have everything you deserve. The man loves you, Norah.”

  She shook her head. “If he loved me, he’d love me. And we wouldn’t have had that conversation in Vegas.” Tears poked her eyes and she blinked them back. The triplets were in the office slash nursery having their nap and she needed to think about them. In Reed, they’d have a loving father but would grow up with a warped view of love and marriage because their parents’ lack of love—kisses, romance, the way a committed couple acted—would be absent. They would be roommates, and her children would grow up thinking that was how married people behaved. No sirree.

  The super annoying part? She couldn’t even go back to the old Norah’s ways of having given up on love and romance. Because she’d fallen hard for Reed and she knew she was capable of that much feeling. She did want it. She wanted love. She wanted a father for her babies. She wanted that man to be the same.

  She wanted that man to be Reed.

  He didn’t want to be that man. Or couldn’t be. Whatever!

  Being Fabio was his fantasy, though, she suddenly realized. A man who did want to marry. Fabio had suggested it, after all. Fabio had carried her into that chapel.

  Could there be hope?

  A waitress popped her head into the kitchen “Norah? There’s someone here to see you. Henry Peterfell.” The young woman filled her tray with her order of three chicken pot pies and one beef and carried it back out.

  “Henry Peterfell is here to see me?” She glanced at her mother and aunt. Henry Peterfell was a pricey attorney and very involved in local government. What could he want with Norah?

  She wiped her hands on her apron and went through the swinging-out door into the dining room. Fiftysomething-year-old Henry, in his tan suit, sat at the counter, a Pie Diner yellow to-go bag in front of him. “Ah, Ms. Ingalls. I stopped in to pick up lunch and realized I had some papers for you to sign in my briefcase, so if you’d like, you can just John Hancock them here. Or you can make an appointment to come into the office. Whatever is more convenient.”

  Panic rushed into her stomach. “Papers? Am I being sued?”

  Oh God. Was Reed divorcing her? Perhaps he figured they couldn’t annul the marriage because they’d made love. You’re the one who gave him back your ring, she reminded herself, tears threatening again. Of course he’s divorcing you.

  “Sued? No, no, nothing like that.” He set his leather briefcase on the counter and pulled out a folder. “There are three sets. You can sign where you see the neon arrow. There, there and there,” he said, pointing at the little sticky tabs.

  Norah picked up the papers. And almost fell off the chair.

  “This is a deed,” she said slowly. “To the Barelli ranch.”

  “Yes,” the lawyer said. “Everything is in order. Lovely property.”

  “Reed turned the ranch over to me? The ranch is now mine?”

  “That’s right. It’s yours. Once you sign, of course. There, there and there,” he said, gesturing.

  Norah stared at the long, legal-size papers, the black type swimming before her eyes. What? Why would Reed do this?

  “Mr. Peterfell, would it be all right if I held on to these to read first?”

  “Absolutely,” he said. “Just send them to my office or drop them off at your convenience.”

  With that, he and his briefcase of unexpected documents were gone.

  Reed had deeded the ranch to her. His beloved ranch. The only place that had ever felt like home to him.

  Because he didn’t feel he deserved it now that they were going to split up? That had to be the reason. He wasn’t even keeping it in limbo in case he met someone down the road, though. He was that far gone? That sure he was never going to share his heart with anyone?

  A shot of cold swept through her at the thought. How lonely that would be.

  She wasn’t letting him get away that easily. Her aunt and mother were right. She was going to fight for him. She was going to fight for Fabio. Because there was a chance that Reed did love her but couldn’t allow himself to. And if the feeling was there, she was going to pull it out of him till he was so happy he made people sick.

  The thought actually made her smile.

  * * *

  Reed stood in the living room of his awkward rental house—the same old one, which of course was still available because it was so blah—trying to figure out why the arrangement of furniture looked so wrong. Maybe if he put the couch in front of the windows instead of against the wall?

  This place would never look right. Or feel right. Or be home.

  But giving Norah the ranch had been the right thing to do. Now she’d have a safe place to raise the triplets with enough room for all of them, fields to roam in, and she’d own it free and clear. She’d never have to worry about paying rent again, let alone a mortgage or property taxes—he’d taken care of that in perpetuity.

  And he had a feeling his grandmother was looking down at him, saying, Well, you tried. Not hard enough, but you tried and in the end you did the right thing. She should have the ranch, you dope.

  He was a dope. And Norah should have the ranch.

  The doorbell rang. He had a feeling it was Norah, coming to tell him she couldn’t possibly accept the ranch. Well, tough, because he’d already deeded it to her and it was hers. He’d even talked over the legalities with his lawyer; he’d married, per his grandmother’s will, and the ranch was his fair and square. His to hand over.

  He opened the door and it was like a gut punch. Two days ago they’d still had their deal. Two nights ago they’d been naked in bed together. And then yesterday morning, he’d turned back into the Reed he needed to be to survive this thing called life. Keeping to himself. No emotional entanglements.

  And yet his first day in town he’d managed to get married and become a father to three babies. He was really failing at no emotional entanglements.

  “I can’t accept this, Reed,” she said, holding up a legal-size folder.

  “You have no choice. It’s yours now. The deed is in your name.”

  She scowled. “It’s your home.”

  “I’d rather you and the triplets have it. My grandmother would rather that, too. I have no doubt.”

  “So you get married, get your ranch and then give up the ranch, but the wife who’s not really your wife gets to keep the ranch. That makes no sense.”

  “Does anything about our brief history, Norah?” An image floated into the back of his mind, Fabio and Angelina hand in hand, him scooping her up and carrying her into the chapel with its legend and sneaky, elderly caretakers slash officiants.

  She stared at him hard. “I’ll accept the ranch on one condition.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “And that would be?”

  “I need your help for my multiples class. I’d
like you to be a guest speaker. Give the dad’s perspective.”

  No, no, no. What could he contribute? “I’ve only been a dad for a little while,” he said. “Do I really have anything to truly bring to the class? And now with things so...up in the air between us.”

  Up in the air is good, she thought. Because it meant things could go her way. Their way. The way of happiness.

  “You have so much to contribute,” she said. “Honestly, it would be great if you could speak at all the remaining classes,” she said. “Lena Higgins—she’s the one expecting all boy triplets—told me her husband wasn’t sure he felt comfortable at the class last week and might not be joining her for the rest because the class seemed so mom-focused. Poor Lena looked so sad. A male guest speaker will keep some of the more reluctant dads and caregivers comfortable. Especially when it’s Reed Barelli, detective.”

  He didn’t quite frown, so that was something. “I don’t know, Norah. I—”

  “Did you see how scared some of those dads looked?” she asked. “For dads who are shaking over the responsibility awaiting them—you could set their minds at ease. I think all the students will appreciate the male perspective.”

  Some of the guys in the class, which had included fathers, fathers-to-be and grandfathers, had looked like the ole deer in the headlights. One diaper was tough on some men who thought they were helpless. Two, three, even four diapers at the same time? Helpless men would poof into puddles on the floor. He supposed he could be a big help in the community by showing these guys they weren’t helpless, that they had the same instincts—and fears—as the women and moms among them.

  Step up, boys, he thought. That would be his mission.

  Ha. He was going to tell a bunch of sissies afraid of diaper wipes and onesies and double strollers to step up when he couldn’t step up for the woman he’d do anything for?

  Anything but love, Reed?

  He shook the thought out of his weary brain. His head ran circles around the subject of his feelings for Norah. He just couldn’t quite get a handle on them. Because he didn’t want to? Or because he really was shut off from all that? Done with love. Long done.

  She was tilting her head at him. Waiting for an answer.

  “And if I do this, you’ll accept the ranch as yours?” he said.

  She nodded.

  He extended a hand. “Deal.”

  She shook his hand, the soft feel of it making him want to wrap her in his arms and never let her go.

  “We make a lot of deals,” she said. “I guess it’s our thing.”

  He smiled. “The last one failed miserably.” He failed miserably. Or had Norah just changed the rules on him by wanting more? They’d entered their agreement on a handshake, too. He wasn’t really wrong here. He just wasn’t...right.

  “This one has less riding on it,” she said. “You just have to talk about how you bonded with the triplets. How you handle changing time. Feeding time. Bedtime. What’s it like to come home from work and have three grumpy, teething little ones to deal with. How you make it work. How it’s wonderful, despite everything hard about it. How sometimes it’s not even hard.”

  He nodded and smiled. “I’ll be there,” he said. He frowned, his mind going to the triplets. “Norah, how are things going to work now? I mean, until you find the right man, I want to be there for you and the babies. I want to be their father.”

  “Until I find a father who can be that and a real husband?”

  “Okay, it’s weird, but yes.”

  She frowned. “So you’re going to get all enmeshed in their lives, give a hundred percent to them, and then I meet someone who fits the bill and you’ll just back off? Walk away? Bye, triplets?”

  Hey, wait a minute.

  “Look, Norah, I’m not walking away from anything. I want to be their father. I told you that. But I want you to have what you need, too. If I can’t be both and someone else can...”

  Someone else. Suddenly the thought of another man touching her, kissing her, doing upsie-downsie with his babies...

  His babies. Hell. Maybe he should back off now. Or he’d really be done for. Maybe they both needed a break from each other so they could go back to having what they wanted. Which was all messed up now.

  She lifted her chin. “Let’s forget this for now. Anytime you want to see Bella, Bea and Brody, you’re welcome over. You’re welcome at the ranch anytime.”

  He nodded, unable to speak at the moment.

  She peered behind him, looking around the living room. “The couch should go in front of the windows. And that side table would be better on that wall,” she said, pointing. “The mirror above the console table is too low. Should be slightly above eye level.”

  “That should help. Thank you. I can’t seem to get this place right.”

  “I’m not sure I want it to feel right,” she said. “Wait, did I say that aloud?” She frowned again. “Everything is all wrong. I don’t like that you left your home, Reed. That place is your dream.”

  “That place is meant for a family. I want you to have it.”

  She looked at him for a long moment. He could see her shaking her head without moving a muscle. “See you in class.”

  He watched her walk to her car. The moment she got in, he felt her absence and the weight of one hell of a heavy heart.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Word had spread that Detective Reed Barelli, who’d become de facto father to the Ingalls triplets by virtue of marrying their mother at the Wedlock Creek chapel with its Legend of the Multiples, would be a guest speaker at tonight’s zero-to-six-month multiples class. There were more men than women this time, several first-timers to the class who practically threw checks at Norah. At this rate, she’d be raking it in as a teacher.

  She hadn’t even meant to invite him to speak—especially not as a condition of her keeping the ranch. The sole condition, no less. But it had been the best she could come up with, just standing there, not knowing what to say, how to keep him, how to get him to open up the way she had and accept the beautiful thing he was being offered: love. She did want him to be a speaker in her class, and it would get them working together, so that was good. She couldn’t try to get through to him if they were constantly apart now that he’d moved out.

  They hadn’t spent much time together in three days.

  He’d come to the ranch to see the triplets every day since their return from Las Vegas. He’d help feed them, then read to them, play with them. Blow raspberries and do upsie-downsies. And then he’d leave, taking Norah’s heart with him.

  Now here he was, sitting in the chair beside her desk with his stack of handouts, looking so good she could scream.

  “Welcome, everyone! As you may have heard through the grapevine, tonight we have a guest speaker. Detective Reed Barelli. When Reed and I got married, he became the instant father of three seven-month-old teething babies. Was he scared of them? Nope. Did he actually want to help take care of them? Yes. Reed had never spent much time around babies and yet he was a natural with my triplets. Why?”

  She looked at Reed and almost didn’t want to say why. Because it proved he could pick and choose. The triplets. But not her.

  She bit back the strangled sob that rose up from deep within and lifted her chin. She turned back toward the class. “Because he wanted to be. That is the key. He wanted to be there for them. And so he was. And dads, caregivers, dads-to-be, grandfathers, that’s all you have to know. That you want to be there for them. So, without further ado, here is Detective Reed Barelli.”

  He stood, turned to her and smiled, then addressed the class. “That was some introduction. Thank you, Norah.”

  She managed a smile and then sat on the other side of the desk.

  “Norah is absolutely right. I did want to be there for the triplets. And so I was. But don’t think I had a clue of how to take c
are of one baby, let alone three. I know how to change a diaper—I think anyone can figure that out. But the basics, including diapers and burping and sleep schedules and naps? All that, you’ll learn here. What you won’t learn here, or hell, maybe you will because I’m talking about it, is that taking care of babies will tell you who you are. Someone who steps up or someone who sits out. Be the guy who steps up.”

  A bunch of women stood and applauded, as did a few guys.

  “Is it as easy as you make it sound?” Tom McFill asked. “My wife is expecting twins. I’ve never even held a baby before.”

  “The first time you do,” Reed said, “everything will change. That worry you feel, that maybe you won’t know what you’re doing? It’ll dissipate under the weight of another feeling—a surge of protection so strong that you won’t know what hit you. All you’ll know is that you’re doing what needs to be done, operating by instinct and common sense, Googling what you don’t know, asking a grandmother. So it’s as hard and as easy as I’m making it sound.”

  A half hour later Norah took over, giving tutorials on feeding multiples, bathing multiples and how to handle sleep time. Then there was the ole gem: what if both babies, or three or four, all woke up in the middle of the night, crying and wet and hungry. She covered that, watching her students taking copious notes.

  Finally the class was over. Everyone crowded around Reed, asking him questions. By the time the last student left and they were packing up to go, it was a half hour past the end of the class.

  “You were a big hit,” she said. “I knew I called this one right.”

  “I’m happy to help out. I knew more than I thought on the subject. I’d stayed up late last night doing research, but I didn’t need to use a quarter of it.”

  “You had hands-on training.”

  “I miss living with them,” he said, and she could tell he hadn’t meant to say that.

  She smiled and let it go. “Most people would think you’re crazy.”