The Texas Cowboy's Quadruplets

by Cathy Gillen Thacker

  “Yeah. I mean, why get engaged again? We’ve already done that. If we ever get to the point where we want to be together permanently, then why not just skip all the preliminary hoopla and move right on to the good stuff?”

  Now he was smiling. In a way that made her feel much more relaxed. So she assumed that he was just speaking in casual hypotheticals and not necessarily making rock-solid plans for their future. Together, they picked up the quads and moved out to the SUV, where the tree was already strapped to the roof.

  Early evening, the stars were already out, twinkling against the backdrop of the night sky. A chill was descending, and she shivered.

  He set one of the carriers down gently and opened the door. One by one they settled the safety seats into the base of the car seats.

  Exhausted from all the activity, the quads slept on.

  Mitzy climbed into the passenger seat next to Chase, still feeling a little rattled by the unexpected direction the conversation had taken. “So you’re saying if you ever decided to get married that you’d skip the proposal?”

  Although they weren’t talking about the two of them specifically, she wasn’t sure how she would feel about that.

  “No.” Chase turned up the heater to ensure they’d all stay nice and warm. “I’d propose. But then...” He looked at her, serious now. “If it were you and me... I’d want to get on with it.”

  If.

  Was it even a possibility?

  Hard to tell.

  Mitzy drew a deep breath, feeling she had to ask. “And if it’s not?” She shoved her hands in the pockets of her fleece jacket.

  He leaned over to kiss her, lightly and tenderly, then drew back. Their gazes locked, held. “That’s the problem, sweetheart,” he said softly. “I’ve never wanted to marry anyone but you.”

  That was the problem, Mitzy concurred silently, since she had never wanted to marry anyone but Chase, either. But that didn’t mean they were any more right for each other now than they had been years ago.

  Yes, they had incredible physical chemistry.

  Yes, she adored his family as much as the McCabes seemed to adore her.

  And there was no question he would be able to fit in with her family, if things ever got serious again, too.

  Mitzy knew her mother.

  If Chase married her, or even professed to be truly serious about her again, Judith would welcome Chase with open arms.

  As for the rest...

  She and Chase did not share the same ambition.

  She was content doing social work in a rural Texas county. He was building a multimillion-dollar leather goods empire by acquiring one small troubled company at a time and turning it around.

  And now, as a friend, he was helping her attempt to do the same with MCS.

  Granted, their shared goal had them spending a lot of time together. But what would happen when his job was finished? Would be still be in Laramie, dropping by every evening? Helping out with the quads? Or would he be on to the next business challenge, leaving her behind, the way he had done before...

  Mitzy didn’t know.

  Didn’t want to know.

  Not until after MCS had been put back on the right track and the holidays were over.

  So she forced herself not to think about it.

  Not anymore that night.

  And not the next day, either, when Chase came back over to help her string lights on the gorgeous pine in her family room. “So how are things going with your mother?” he asked.

  Mitzy groaned and continued untangling the lights. The babies were sitting in their windup baby swings, swaying gently back and forth, and watching all the activity.

  “Don’t ask,” she said, sending an affectionate glance to her children.

  Chase plugged in the strand he had, smiling when it worked. “That bad?” he asked.

  Mitzy worked out a particularly difficult knot. “Remember how I mentioned she was hiring a professional photographer to do formal portraits of all of us when I go into Dallas for the boys’ debut on December 15?”

  “Yes, I do.” He looped the end over the top of the tree. Walked around. “And that’s a problem because...?”

  Finished, Mitzy stood. “My portrait comes with clothes, hair and makeup stylists. Which means hours to get ready before we even sit through it.”

  Chase watched her test her strand, which lit, too. “What about the boys?”

  Mitzy plugged the end of her lights into his. “Mother has a wardrobe person and four nannies standing by for them, too.”

  “I’m surprised she didn’t order hair and makeup for the little guys, as well.”

  Mitzy playfully punched his shoulder. “Ha-ha.”

  His hand touched hers as they continued positioning the twinkling lights. “Seriously, sounds like she’s thought of everything.”

  “And that’s the crux of the problem,” Mitzy lamented, her whole body quivering at just one touch. Tamping down her ever-escalating desire, she looked up at Chase. “Mother probably has dreamed up a whole lot more to make this open house something special. She just hasn’t told me what it all is going to be yet.”

  Chase touched the back of his hand to her cheek. Said gently, “It could all be a nice Christmas present for you this year—as well as a sweet remembrance years from now. Given how fast kids grow, and how very much you’re going to want to hold on to all of these memories...”

  Mitzy inhaled deeply. When he was right, he was right. “I know. It’s just...” She paused as they came to the end of the strands.

  “What?” Chase gathered her in his arms and smoothed the hair from her face.

  The understanding in his blue gaze made it easy for her to go on. “I know she doesn’t mean to, but Mother always make me feel like I’m not enough. That without her assistance, I’m lacking somehow. That I still don’t understand what is really important in life.”

  Chase stroked up and down her spine, commiserating, “Money?”

  Mitzy rested her forehead on the hard sinew of his chest. “On the surface, yes, it’s that.” Adding wryly, “Judith does love her luxury. But deep down, I think that it’s more about security.” She took Chase’s hand and led him over to sit on the sofa next to her. “Mother’s early years with Dad were brutal. He was always working to get his business off the ground. There was never enough money. And she had to cater like crazy to pay the bills. Which left her very little time for me.”

  Chase shifted her onto his lap. “When did that change?” He took her hand in his.

  Mitzy looked down at their clasped fingers. “I asked her that once.”

  “And...?”

  Mitzy sighed. “She said she was cleaning up after a party for a wealthy client, and she realized that had she only married the right man, that could be her life. And mine. And she resolved right then to get it. So she left Dad and moved me to Dallas, resumed catering—to the richest, most influential clients she could find—and began clawing her way up the social ladder.”

  “Hence the three marriages before Walter.”

  “Each wealthier than the last.”

  They fell silent.

  Mitzy played with the buttons on Chase’s shirt. “Mother thinks it’s easy to be happy if you have money. And impossible if you don’t.”

  Chase nodded. “Whereas you want the middle ground,” he guessed.

  Another silence fell.

  Figuring if they didn’t get a move on, they’d never finish the tree, Mitzy rose again.

  Chase followed her over to the boxes of ornaments.

  “What do you think it takes to be happy?” he asked softly.

  Mitzy hung a glittery red bulb, then picked up a gold. “Well, I guess it’s what I had with my dad. The sense that he put my happiness and well-being above everything else. Including business.”

 
Chase tensed.

  Unable to read his expression, she continued, explaining, “Which of course is what I’m trying to do for the quadruplets. Let them know that no matter what they come first.”

  Chase nodded, obviously agreeing.

  “And then, of course,” Mitzy added honestly, “I think you have to have ‘family’ to be happy. Whether in a traditional sense of blood relatives or with a makeshift group of close friends.”

  Chase smiled and, noticing the swings were all slowing, went up to rewind them, one by one. “And children,” he said, mugging affectionately at the quads.

  Miraculously, all seemed to smile back.

  “And children,” Mitzy agreed, realizing all over again what a good daddy Chase was going to be someday.

  Chase went back to get more ornaments. “What do you think about spouses?” He nudged her shoulder lightly, looking down at her. “Are those necessary?”

  Heat spread from her chest into her face.

  Realizing they were back on the subject of marriage again, Mitzy forced herself to be forthright. “I think it’s nice when it all works out,” she allowed as their gazes meshed and held for an inordinately long moment. “But I also know—” she took another deep breath “—from my time in the field, doing social work, that there are plenty of happy and content one-parent families out there. Happy and content single childless people, too.”

  “Hmm.” Chase nodded thoughtfully.

  It was Mitzy’s turn to be curious. Just how hell-bent on getting hitched was Chase? Did he have someone particular in mind? Or was he still narrowing down the field?

  “Hmm,” she echoed, “meaning...?”

  Chase hunkered down to hang some ornaments on the lower branches. Denim stretched across his muscular legs and butt. The same happened across the front, in the taut stretch over his fly.

  “I can see that with my brother Jack,” he said, oblivious to the effect he was having on her.

  He reached to the right, and the same thing happened as the fabric molded to his buff upper body and arms. Reminding Mitzy what a fine body he had.

  Chase frowned and continued sorrowfully, “He was married to the love of his life. When she died delivering their third daughter, he knew no one would ever take his wife’s place. So he resolved to be happy and content on his own.”

  But was Jack truly happy? Mitzy wondered.

  Her friends, nurses Bridgett and Bess Monroe, who worked with Jack at the hospital, did not really think that was so.

  Chase inhaled and straightened until he towered over her. Shook his head and continued ruefully, “But for me...and my brother Matt...and my sister, Lulu...we’re all still looking for that happily-ever-after that’s so far been elusive.”

  “Romantic love,” she guessed, aware that she sometimes secretly felt the same. When she let herself, that was. Which, to be honest, had not been often, even before she and Chase broke up. Maybe it was her mother’s many marriages, or her father’s loneliness after their divorce. Or even the way Chase and the other McCabes seemed to take it for granted that they would fall in love, and marry and live happily ever after one day. All she knew for certain was that she found it nearly impossible to trust the same could or would happen for her. Even if it was what she privately yearned for, deep inside.

  “And marriage, kids, pets. Basically, the whole enchilada,” Chase said. He paused as if replaying what he had just said in his head. “Now who sounds like a girl.”

  She laughed at his self-effacing expression. “Well, whatever you call it, Chase,” she said, wreathing her arms about his neck and tilting her face up to his, “you’re a good guy and I hope you find that romantic love and satisfying family life that you want.”

  He kissed her back, softly, lingeringly. For a moment looked deep into her eyes. Contemplating tenderly. “You, too...”

  * * *

  The rest of Sunday was spent taking care of the quads, decorating the rest of the interior of her home, and addressing and mailing the Christmas photo postcards she had decided to send to her friends. Chase was there to assist, every step of the way, and once the babies were put down for the night, he took her to bed for a passionate round of lovemaking.

  Before he left, he went over the inquiries she needed to make at MCS the following morning, patiently explaining all the accounting terms she was unfamiliar with.

  “How can you not look tired?” she asked as she walked him to the door.

  He pulled her in for a lingering good-night kiss. “Don’t know.” He chuckled. “But you’ve got a big day tomorrow, sweetheart, so you better get some shut-eye.”

  He was right. She was tired. Worse, she was confused about the increasingly romantic turn in their relationship. The way they were still both holding back. She knew to jump in headfirst to a reconciliation would be foolish. Even if feminine instinct told her that was exactly where they were heading. Their first breakup had been devastating. She couldn’t go through that again, any more than she could seem to turn away from him. When he was with her, she felt comforted, secure, happy. Really hopeful about the future. When they were apart, doubts crept in. The constant ups and downs left her feeling unsettled. And once again, sleep was elusive. By morning, as she headed for MCS, she was on edge.

  Her conversations with individual employees, and then department heads, left her feeling even more frazzled. “I don’t know why you didn’t come to me when there were so many problems,” she said to the group of very senior employees gathered in her office at day’s end.

  Sue Miller said, “We all agreed there was enough on your plate, with your dad’s illness and passing, the difficult pregnancy and four infants to deal with.”

  “Besides, you’re here now,” Chet Brown added.

  And Buck Phillips, who was off visiting one of their suppliers, wasn’t, Mitzy thought. Although the company COO was expected in before closing.

  “Yes.” Pushing the guilt over her lapses aside, Mitzy smiled and said, “I am. And one of my first orders of business, in addition to tending to the various issues you-all have pointed out, is to make sure we have a really nice MCS Christmas party this year. Which should fall on Saturday, December 22, if we follow tradition. So, how do you want to do this?”

  The room fell silent. Mitzy noted the definite lack of enthusiasm. Which was strange. The end-of-year holiday get-together had always been one of her favorite gatherings. Everyone else’s, too. “Should I send out an email blast, or just put up a sheet in the break room, so everyone can let us know what dishes they intend to provide? So we don’t end up with all potato salad or something.”

  Another awkward pause.

  “Does this mean we can bring guests again?” Lisa Franklin asked.

  Mitzy nodded. “Just let us know how many.”

  Yet another short silence fell. Looks were exchanged. Finally, Bart Higgins blurted out, “Are we going to get annual bonuses?”

  What a strange question to ask! “Of course,” Mitzy said, taken aback. “You always do.”

  Everyone stared at her like she had grown two heads. “Not last year,” Randy O’Quinn muttered from the back.

  He wasn’t joking.

  Nor was anyone else.

  “You absolutely will have bonuses this year,” Mitzy promised, embarrassed to discover the inexcusable lapse. And she would personally make sure they were more generous than ever.

  The meeting concluded, just as chief operating officer Buck Phillips returned from his outside appointment. He caught her on her way out and asked to speak with her privately, a request to which she readily agreed. “What’s going on here?” he demanded as she shut the door to her office behind them.

  “I could ask you the same question,” she said to the man who had once been her dad’s best friend and most trusted coworker. “Why did you give the orders to downgrade all our materials?”

 
Buck stiffened. “Because it was the only way to make ends meet.”

  Mitzy sat down behind the desk. “Is that why there were no bonuses last year?”

  Buck remained defensive. “The employees understood we did not have the funds.” He squinted. “What’s gotten into you, Mitzy? Is Chase McCabe behind all this? Is he the one that’s got you asking for bank statements?”

  So it wasn’t an accident—Buck was hiding things from her, and who knew who else! Glad Chase had prepared her for just this, she returned calmly, “We need those financial records for end-of-year profit and loss statements and balance sheets.”

  Buck scoffed. “Your dad never needed any of that!”

  Mitzy glared right back. “My dad never had trouble paying out bonuses, either.”

  Silence fell.

  Buck’s ruddy skin reddened. “I’ve done a good job here, Mitzy.” His voice caught. Angrily, he pushed on, “It’s not easy filling the void Gus left.”

  Mitzy shared his grief. She swallowed around the ache in her throat. “I know that.”

  Buck threw up his hands. “So what are you doing spending every evening talking to Chase McCabe? Is he promising to help you? Because I’ll tell you what he wants,” Buck stormed. “What he always wanted. Your dad’s company!”

  That wasn’t true, Mitzy thought.

  It couldn’t be.

  Chase hadn’t once offered to buy it from her, even when her mother had suggested he do so, back at Thanksgiving.

  Buck shook his head at her, as if he couldn’t believe her naïveté. “I know you were in love with him once, but you can’t trust him, honey, not when you and the company are both this vulnerable.”

  Mitzy thought about all Chase had done for her the past few weeks. How honest they had been with each other.

  “Yes. I can,” Mitzy asserted fiercely. But even as she spoke, she remembered the depth of Chase’s ambition and felt the little niggling of doubt. And doubt—about his values, and his intentions—was exactly what had destroyed them before.

  Chapter Eight

  Two hours later, Chase arrived to find Mitzy on the phone. Her honey-brown hair loose and flowing, cheeks pink with agitation, she waved him across the threshold of her bungalow. “There’s no need to send nannies for the trip, Mother. Chase has agreed to drive to Dallas with us...Saturday morning...Yes. Listen, we’re on our way to an event. Love you, too. Bye.” Finished, she cut the connection.