anytime soon,” Priscilla said.
“Don’t be so certain, missy. This deal I’m trying to work with you has a definite expiration date.”
She sighed. “You know this is an impossible situation. Even if I wanted to be a mother to four babies, I’m not confident I could manage it. I have no experience. I wouldn’t know a pacifier from a—” She stopped speaking as the front door opened. Josiah turned, his brow wrinkling.
Pete Morgan walked through the door and dropped a black duffel bag on the floor. He closed the door behind him, looking down the hallway to where he could see his father and Priscilla sitting in the den. His face was grim, an expression Priscilla hadn’t seen last month. Tall and dark and beautiful, the man who’d been so playful with her and Cricket and Suzy last month was gone. In his place was a lean, well-muscled warrior with a wary expression that hinted at something dark in his soul. Priscilla shivered. She didn’t think she’d feel as comfortable around him now as she had when he’d been teasing and carefree.
“Pop,” Pete said. “Hello, Priscilla.”
“Well, the prodigal returns,” Josiah said.
Pete shook his head. “You’re the prodigal. I heard you were in residence.”
“I’ve moved back for good,” Josiah said.
“Good for you,” Pete said. “I won’t plan on staying long, then.”
Priscilla shifted, feeling awkward. “Maybe I should go.”
“Maybe you should stay,” Pete said. “The old man needs companionship.”
“I have plenty, thank you. Gabe and Dane and their wives and children visit frequently.” Josiah’s expression turned cantankerous. “I suppose you only came home for your million.”
Pete hesitated, glanced at Priscilla. “Darn right.”
“Well. You’ll have to live here with me to get it.”
“That’s a persuasive argument.” Pete looked at Priscilla. “What would you do for a million dollars?”
Chapter Three
Priscilla stood. “I’m going to let you two go over old times. I’ve overstayed my welcome, anyway.”
Pete looked at his father. “Don’t you love the way she talks? So ladylike and proper.”
Josiah grinned. “She’s not hard to listen to at all.”
Priscilla shook her head. “You two are cut from the same cloth. I hope you enjoy your visit together.”
“Walk her to the door, Pete, will you?” Josiah shifted. “I’d get up, Miss Priscilla, but I’ve been tired lately.”
“There he goes with his poor-pitiful-me routine,” Pete said. “I hope you haven’t fallen for his game.”
She hesitated, glancing at his father, which made Pete wonder what they’d been discussing before his arrival. Suddenly suspicious, he whipped around to glare at Josiah. “You weren’t, by chance, discussing anything to do with me, were you?”
Josiah laughed. “Ah, my son knows me too well.”
“That’s not funny,” Pete said, feeling a slight sense of panic. “I know what happens when you get wrapped up in our lives. Two of my brothers are married with children.” He looked at Priscilla. “You don’t have any children, do you?”
She blinked. He admired her long blond hair, pretty blue eyes and angelic expression—before reminding himself that the faces of angels had been known to bring good men down. He’d seen it happen often in his line of work. “You don’t have children, do you, Miss Perkins?” he repeated more sternly.
“No,” she said, her tone cool. “You know I don’t.”
“Well, then, stay and have dinner with us. It’s sure to be an awkward affair.” Pete gave her his most affable grin. “And you didn’t answer my question, which I guess means you wish to take the high road and stay out of our affairs.”
“What question was that?” she demanded. “You two are full of hooks and angles and thorny emotional issues.”
“About whether you’d live with the old man for a year for a million dollars if you were me.”
She shook her head. “You’re right. I don’t wish to be drawn in to your squabble. Josiah, I don’t like the way you play kingmaker. Pete, I don’t think you’re being very courteous to your father. Bygones are sometimes best left as bygones.”
Josiah sat up in his chair. “You mean, you don’t think Pete should have a million dollars?”
“I don’t care whether he does or not. I’m a tea connoisseur, not a family therapist.”
“Well,” Josiah said. “I thought she was the right woman for you, but she’s not, Pete.”
Pete turned to face his father, then looked back at Priscilla. “Was he trying to get you to entice me into marriage? I know it’s not a polite question, but he did it to both my brothers.”
“Yes.” Priscilla lifted her chin to meet his gaze. “He has every intention of interfering in your life.”
“And what did you tell him?” Pete asked quietly, feeling his entire body tense.
“I told him I didn’t think you’d marry me, and that I didn’t think you wanted to be a father to four newborns.”
Pete blinked, recoiling for an instant before looking at his father. “You’re crazy, you know that?”
Josiah watched the two of them carefully, his eyes hooded with interest. Then he grinned, delighted to be, Pete thought, playing the role of munificent fairy godfather. “Just hate to see four little babies without parents,” Pop said, his voice all innocence. “At least you four boys had each other growing up. These Wright children will be split up.” He shrugged. “I can’t save the world, I know that. It was just a thought, nothing to get a brave spy like yourself in a lather over.” Picking up the daily newspaper, he shook it out with exaggerated importance. “Just four little babies, counting on someone to save them,” he muttered.
“I’ll be going now,” Priscilla said. “Welcome home, Pete. Mr. Morgan—”
“Josiah,” he reminded her.
“Yes,” she said. “Josiah, it was interesting to see you again.”
“Again?” Pete looked at her. “When did he see you before?”
“He visited me at my tea shop.”
Pete studied her before looking at his father. “You went all the way to Fort Wylie to hatch this plan?”
Josiah shrugged. “Couldn’t very well do it by phone, could I? Would have been rude.” He chuckled.
Pete told himself the front door was open. He could leave his father and his shenanigans behind just as easily as stand here. But he had to admit he was hooked by the game. He had a funny feeling Josiah hadn’t shown all of his cards—yet. “So what did you think of my father’s well-intentioned angling?”
“I think it’s presumptuous.”
Josiah cleared his throat, looking at Priscilla meaningfully. After a second Priscilla’s face colored slightly.
“What?” Pete demanded. “Let me in on the private secret you two are sharing.”
“There’s nothing,” Priscilla said airily, not wanting Josiah to blurt his information about her “little crush” on Pete. “Goodbye, and good luck with your mission, Josiah. Pete, good to see you again. I’ll show myself out. I remember where the front door is.” She hurried down the foyer hall, but Pete wasn’t letting her go that easily.