furnished with twin beds.
“You’ll get used to them,” Darby assured. “And you don’t have to dress them alike that way just because their—” Her voice broke off awkwardly.
“Because their mother did,” Garrett finished flatly. Trust Elise—pretty, proper, pampered—to dress her triplets alike. “You don’t have to avoid her name.”
“I wasn’t.” But her distressed expression told a different story. “You’ll be able to tell the triplets apart before long,” she reassured.
“Sure,” Garrett agreed abruptly. “When it’s time to change a diaper, I’ll know whether I’ve got Tad in hand or not.”
Her lips twitched the moment before she turned away. “If it helps, Keely is the only one with eight teeth already.”
“Great. Another clue.” Garrett followed Darby down the narrow stairs, back into the living room, where they’d already dumped the diaper bag and the assortment of other items she’d filched from the child-care center.
She glanced around. “I must go. Did you put my car keys somewhere?”
He slowly drew them out of his pocket and held them up in the air. “You’re responsible for this situation, Darby White. You don’t think I’m gonna let you go all that easily, do you?”
Responsible.
Darby felt the blood drain from her head, and her knees wobbled. She stared at Garrett. How could he know? How could anyone know?
He was swearing under his breath and pushing her into a chair, nudging her head down between her knees. She pushed at his hands, but he held her firm. She squirmed. “What are you doing?”
“You looked like you were gonna pass out.”
He bent his knees and crouched in front of her, finally allowing Darby to lift her head. But he was so close she could see the flecks of brown in his green eyes, and she wanted to lower her head once more. Her throat tightened again. “Mr. Cullum, I don’t know how you—”
“Garrett.”
“I…what?”
“Call me Garrett. Seems stupid to be so formal under the circumstances.”
Not even Dane had lashes as long as this man’s, and Dane was so handsome Darby used to tease him about being pretty. She swallowed nervously. “I’m terribly sorry about—”
“Dumping five kids on me? Don’t feel sorry for me,” he murmured. “Feel sorry for them. And if it weren’t for you speaking up about what Elise told you, they wouldn’t be saddled with an uncle who doesn’t have a clue what to do with ’em.” He straightened. “You can’t just abandon us now.”
The room swam again and Darby pressed her fingertips to her closed eyes. From blind panic to pitiful relief in the span of a heartbeat was almost more than she could take.
She moistened her lips and dropped her hands, looking up at him. He’d removed his jacket some time ago, and the sleeves of his white linen shirt were folded up his forearms. He looked grim, tired and appealing. And she was appalled at herself for even noticing that at a time like this. For all she knew, he had a wife tucked away somewhere. Or a fiancée. Or a harem.
He also looked something else, she realized with a start. Beneath his steady, green gaze he was just as panicked as she’d felt. And why not? His life had changed today.
She sat up. “Mr. Cull—Garrett, you do have a choice regarding the children. Laura did say that your brother-in-law had no family on his side, but obviously you’re not the only remaining relative of the children. Your… Mr. Carson is probably on his way back from his business trip, if he hasn’t arrived already. I’m sure between the two of you, you’ll manage to—”
“Have you met him?”
“Well, no, actually. I know of him, of course. You can’t live in Fisher Falls and not know who Caldwell Carson is. He is the mayor, after all. And if not for that, I’ve heard his company built more than half the homes in the state.”
“Yeah, he’s a busy boy, Caldwell is.” He ran his hand around the back of his neck. “And between the two of us, we’ll be working out exactly nothing. The kids are with me. They’ll stay with me.” His lips thinned. “It’s what Elise wanted, right?”
Darby nodded. It was the one thing she could confirm with complete honesty. And now that job done, it was time for her to go. To remove herself from the situation before she brought more harm to innocent people.
Harm. Such an inadequate word for what she’d caused.
“I need to go.” She stood and held out her hand for her keys, but he didn’t drop them into her palm, and unease rippled through her. “My keys?”
They jingled, sounding loud in the silence of the house, when he finally released them into her hand. She pushed them into her pocket and headed for the door. “Good luck with the children.”
“Meaning you think I’ll need it.”
“If one of the triplets wakens during the night, I suggest giving a bottle. I saw some cans of formula in the diaper bag as well as clean bottles. It’s premixed. Just pour it in the bottle. The children will probably take a while to settle into a new—” her throat clamped tight “—a new routine. Just give yourselves plenty of time to, ah, to adjust,” she finished huskily. She didn’t dare look at Garrett. If she did she would start crying.
And if she started crying, she wasn’t sure if she could stop.
The past few months had been so calm. So quiet. She’d started to breathe again. And now this. Elise and Marc had been young, in their prime, with five innocent children completing their home. They hadn’t deserved this.
And she felt guilty for even fearing that her brief period of peace might be threatened as a result.
“You know the kids pretty well.” Garrett’s voice stopped her as she pushed open the screen door. “And they know you.”
Darby nodded. It seemed ridiculous to tell him good-night. There was nothing good about this day. “The children usually spend two or three half-days a week at the center. You’ll probably want to sign them up full-time. But I should warn you that there is a waiting list. You might have better luck looking at some of the other places in town if that’s the route you want to go.”
His expression didn’t change, but she knew without a single doubt that he was cursing inside his head. Her brother, Dane, got that same look when he was inordinately frustrated.
He’d worn that look a lot around Darby before she’d finally found some backbone and left home three months ago.
Her gaze focused on Garrett, and her shoulders sagged. If she had found her backbone and stayed at home, where everyone had insisted she’d belonged—save her great-aunt Georgie, that is—then today’s events would never have occurred. The children sleeping in the bedrooms of this simple, boxy house would be tucked in under the watchful eye of their mother and father—instead of the grimly determined one of their uncle.
“I wouldn’t
