transplant, and I would never ask anyone to give up a kidney for an old geezer like me. Plus, I opted to forgo the usual treatments. Basically, I came home to die.”
Pete stared at his father, still looking for any sign of manipulation. For once, Josiah’s face was serene and forthright. “Why are you telling me this?”
Josiah shrugged. “The times I share with my sons and their families are the times that keep me hanging on. Otherwise, I might as well be a hopeless old wrench in life’s party.”
“So what’s the prognosis for your situation?” Pete asked, dreading the answer.
“Same outcome we’ll all get eventually. Only mine will come sooner than later. Maybe a year, probably less.” Josiah shifted and raised the glass of brandy. “I self-medicate. I’m not supposed to, of course. Have real medicine I’m supposed to take.” He smacked his lips after he sipped his drink. “ This is tasty medicine.”
“I’ll join you for a dose, then.” Pete needed a stiff drink. He needed more than a drink. Pop had managed to underpin Pete’s most deeply held emotions. After traveling thousands of dangerous miles and living for years nursing deep, black-edged anger, brandy wasn’t going to help him much. He’d have preferred to come home and spit in the old man’s eye. Now, not only did he not want to confront his father, he felt an overwhelming urge to know the real Josiah Morgan, the man whose guard was finally down and whose true heart was finally bared for all to see.
Chapter Four
So then he wanted me to adopt four newborns,” Priscilla told Cricket as they scrubbed out teapots and closed the shop for the day. It had been two days since she’d heard from Pete or Josiah—and yet she still needed time to think about what had happened. So much of what had been said was playing on her mind, drawing her thoughts over and over again to the children.
And Pete.
“Four!” Cricket exclaimed. “How can that be possible?”
“Quadruplets are rare, but not unheard of. There was a car accident and the parents were killed. It’s heartbreaking.” Priscilla poured fresh water over the pots and set them to dry in the rack. “I can’t take on four infants, of course, but there has to be something I can do to help.”
“What was Pete’s reaction?”
Priscilla shook her head. “I left in a hurry. I have no idea what was said after I was gone. With the ill will between them, I’m sure Pete wasn’t thrilled to come home to discover his father was trying to serve up a wife and full family to him on a silver platter.”
“Josiah is a determined man.”
“He is. I’m sure he has his reasons for what he does, but I can’t be a participant in his plans.”
“Is Pete as hot as he was last month?” Cricket asked with a sneaky glance her friend’s way.
Priscilla began wiping down tables. It had been a full day in the shop with plenty of customers who sat and lingered. She loved it when her tea room was busy. It meant a lot that her customers—many of whom were regulars and becoming her dear friends—loved her place as much as she did. Too bad the bank saw it differently. “‘Hot’ is an understatement,” she said. “He’s so hot I don’t dare touch him.”
“Really?” Cricket followed Priscilla, drying the tables with a soft, white towel. “Would you, under different circumstances?”
“No. There is such a thing as too much man. I, for one, am looking for a more down-to-earth, heart-hand-home type.”
“That doesn’t sound like any fun,” Cricket teased.
“Not fun. Safe.” Priscilla glanced around the room, holding her plan to her for one more moment before sharing. “I’m going to go visit the babies in the hospital.”
Cricket nodded. “I figured you would. I’d like to see them, too.”
“Would you?”
“Sure. Who can resist quadruplets?” Cricket shrugged. “Maybe my mommy timer is going off.”
“You’ve never mentioned before that you had one. I thought your work as a pastor kept you too busy,” Priscilla said with a smile, but Cricket shook her head.
“No one is too busy for a baby. My problem is finding Mr. Right. So for now, I wouldn’t mind seeing someone else’s angels.” Cricket began removing the wilted roses from the bud vases, replacing them with fresh ones. “I keep wondering if there’s something our church can do for them. Their care has to be outrageously expensive.”
“True. Maybe we could hold a bake sale or something to raise funds.” Priscilla finished wiping tables and picked up a broom. “That was another thing that surprised me about Josiah’s suggestion. How in the world would I take care of four babies, when I know nothing about babies, much less preemies?”
“I think Mr. Morgan’s intent was for you and Pete to split the duties and learn together.” Cricket smiled. “I’m sure he sees himself in a benevolent role, helping people to do good work.”
Priscilla thought caring for infants was probably best done by people who had some experience. “So when should we go take a peek at them?”
“Soon,” Cricket said. “My baby meter says we should do it soon.”
Priscilla laughed. “You could always sign up for Josiah’s wedding game.”
“With Pete? Nope.” Cricket shook her head. “I’m afraid my eyes are elsewhere.”
“You’ve never mentioned you had a sweetie.” Priscilla stopped sweeping to stare at her friend. “Tell me!”
“It’s not a sweetie, more of an unrequited longing. And I can’t reveal who it is,” Cricket said, “because you’d laugh.”
“I wouldn’t!”
“You would,” Cricket assured her. “Even I know it’s so crazy it could only happen by divine intervention. In the meantime I plan on sewing some little onesies for some tiny friends of ours.”
The bell over the door chimed, and both women looked up. “Oh,” Priscilla said, “is it that time already?”
“What time?” Cricket asked, then straightened as a tall cowboy walked in.
The man looked guarded and suspicious, a trapped animal. He glanced at the two women, then seeing the shop was empty, seemed to relax slightly.
“Hello, Jack Morgan,” Priscilla said. Cricket said nothing at all.
He leaned against a wall, put his hands in his pockets. “I’ve met you two before.”
“We picked you up a month ago when we were out shopping in Union Junction,” Priscilla said.
He nodded, his gaze sliding over Cricket. “You were at the Lonely Hearts Station rodeo, too.”
Cricket nodded. “Yes. I was.”
The tension in the air was like snapping power lines, Priscilla thought; if this man was Deacon Cricket’s secret crush, her friend must have taken leave of her steady senses.
The door swung open again, the bell tinkling to announce Pete’s arrival. “Hey, everybody. It’s starting to rain again, and it’s colder than a witch’s broom out there. I thought February in Texas would be a little warmer.”
His words lightened the tension in the room slightly. “Hello, Pete,” Priscilla said, wondering how a man in jeans, a basic black jacket and boots could be so mouthwateringly handsome. Line up a hundred men dressed just like that, and only Pete would make her knees weak.
He nodded at her. Her heart sank when she realized she wanted so much more than a general acknowledgment from him. This was not a man to nurse a hidden crush for.
“Hi,