Читать книгу Triple Trouble / A Real Live Cowboy: Triple Trouble - Judy Duarte, Judy Duarte - Страница 8

Nicholas Fortune closed the financial data file on his computer and stretched. Yawning, he pushed his chair away from his desk and stood. His office was on the top floor of the building housing the Fortune Foundation, and outside the big corner windows, the Texas night was moonless, the sky a black dome spangled with the faint glitter of stars.

“Hell of a lot different from L.A.,” he mused aloud, his gaze tracing the moving lights of an airplane far above. The view from the window in his last office in a downtown Los Angeles high rise too often had been blurred with smog that usually blotted out the stars. No, Red Rock, Texas, was more than just a few thousand miles from California—it was a whole world away.

All in all, he thought as he gazed into the darkness, he was glad he’d moved here a month ago. He’d grown tired of his job as a financial analyst for the Kline Corporation in L.A. and needed new challenges—working for the family foundation allowed him time to contemplate his next career move. And a nice side benefit was that he got to spend more time with his brother, Darr.

With the exception of the hum of a janitor’s vacuum in the hallway outside, the building around him was as silent as the street below. Nicholas turned away from the window and returned to his desk to slide his laptop into its leather carrying case. He was just shrugging into his jacket when his cell phone rang.

He glanced at his watch. The fluorescent dials read eleven-fifteen. He didn’t recognize the number and ordinarily would have let the call go to voice mail, but for some reason he thumbed the On button. “Hello?”

“Mr. Fortune? Nicholas Fortune?”

He didn’t recognize the male voice. “Yes.”

“Ah, excellent.” Relief echoed in the man’s voice. “I’m sorry to call so late, but I’ve been trying to locate you for three days and my assistant just found this number. My name is Andrew Sanchez. I’m an attorney for the estate of Stan Kennedy.”

Nicholas froze, his fingers tightening on the slim black cell phone. “The estate of Stan Kennedy? Did something happen to Stan?”

“I’m sorry to be the bearer of unfortunate news.” The caller’s voice held regret. “Mr. Kennedy and his wife were killed in a car accident three days ago.”

Shock kept Nicholas mute.

“Mr. Fortune?”

“Yeah.” Nicholas managed to force words past the thick emotion clogging his throat. “Yeah, I’m here.”

“It’s my understanding you and Mr. Kennedy were quite close?”

“We were college roommates. I haven’t seen Stan in a year or so, but we keep in touch—kept in touch by phone and e-mail.” Like brothers, Nicholas thought. “We were close as brothers in college.”

“I see. Well, Mr. Fortune, that probably explains why he named you guardian of his children. The little girls are currently safe and in the care of a foster mother, but the caseworker is anxious to transfer custody to you. The sooner they’re in a stable environment the better.”

“Whoa, wait a minute.” Nicholas shook his head to clear it, convinced he hadn’t heard the attorney correctly. “Stan left me in charge of his kids?”

“Yes, that’s correct.” The attorney paused. “You didn’t know?”

Nicholas tried to remember exactly what Stan had told him about his will. They’d both agreed to take care of business for the other if anything happened to them. He’d been Stan’s best man at his wedding to Amy and he definitely remembered Stan asking him to look after his bride should anything happen. Even though their conversation had taken place while emptying a magnum of champagne, Nicholas knew his word was important to Stan and he hadn’t given it lightly.

But babies? And not just one—three.

“The triplets weren’t born when we made a pact to look after each other’s estate, should anything ever happen,” he told the attorney. And neither of us thought he and Amy wouldn’t live to raise their daughters. “But I promised Stan I’d take care of his family if he couldn’t.”

“Excellent.” The attorney’s voice was full of relief. “Can I expect you at my office tomorrow, then?”

“Tomorrow?” Nick repeated, his voice rough with shock.

“I know it’s extremely short notice,” Sanchez said apologetically. “But as I said, the caseworker is very concerned that the babies be settled in a permanent situation as soon as possible.”

“Uh, yeah, I suppose that makes sense,” Nick said. He thrust his fingers through his hair and tried to focus on the calendar that lay open on his desktop. “I’ve got a meeting I can’t cancel in the morning, but I’ll catch the first flight out after lunch.” Nicholas jotted down the address in Amarillo and hung up. It was several moments before he realized he was sitting on the edge of his desk, staring at the silent phone, still open in his hand.

Grief washed over him, erasing the cold, numbing shock that had struck with the news. He couldn’t believe Stan and Amy were gone. The couple met life with a zest few of their friends could match. It was impossible to get his head around the fact that all their vibrant energy had been snuffed out.

He scrubbed his hand down his face and his fingers came away damp.

He sucked in a deep breath and stood. He didn’t have time to mourn Stan and Amy. Their deaths had left their three little girls vulnerable, without the protection of parents. Though how the hell Stan and Amy had ever decided he was the best choice to act as substitute dad for the triplets, Nicholas couldn’t begin to guess.

In all his thirty-seven years, he’d never spent any length of time around a baby. He had four brothers but no wife, no fiancée or sister, and his mom had died two years ago. The only permanent female in his immediate family was Barbara, the woman his brother Darr had fallen in love with a month earlier. Barbara was pregnant. Did that mean she knew about babies?

Nick hadn’t a clue. And for a guy who spent his life dealing with the predictability of numbers, in his career as a financial analyst, being clueless didn’t sit well.

But he had no choice.

Despite being totally unqualified for the job, he was flying to Amarillo tomorrow.

And bringing home three babies.

He didn’t know a damn thing about kids. Especially not little girls.

He was going to have to learn fast…

Charlene London walked quickly along the Red Rock Airport concourse, nearly running as she hurried to the gate. The flight to Amarillo was already boarding and only a few stragglers like herself waited to be checked through.

Fortunately, the uniformed airline attendant was efficient, and a moment later, Charlene joined the short queue of passengers waiting to board.

For the first time in the last hour, she drew a deep breath and relaxed. The last three weeks had been hectic and difficult. Breaking up with her fiancé after three years had been hard, but quitting her job, packing her apartment and putting everything in storage had been draining. She’d purposely pared her luggage down to a few bags, since she’d be living with her mother in a condo in Amarillo while she looked for a job and an apartment.

And a new life, she told herself. She was determined to put her failed relationship with Barry behind her and get on with her career.

She sipped her latte, mentally updating her résumé while the line moved slowly forward. They entered the plane and her eyes widened at the packed cabin and aisle, still thronged with passengers finding seats and stowing bags in the overhead compartments.

Thank goodness I used my frequent flyer miles to upgrade to first class. She glanced at her ticket and scanned the numbers above the seats, pausing as she found hers.

“Excuse me.”

The man rose and stepped into the aisle to let her move past him to reach the window seat.

He smelled wonderful. Charlene didn’t recognize the scent, but it was subtle and clean. Probably incredibly expensive. And thank goodness he isn’t wearing the same cologne as Barry, she thought with a rush of relief.

She was trying to get away from Barry—and didn’t need or want any reminder of her ex-boyfriend. Or fiancé. Or whatever the appropriate term was for the man you’d dated for three whole years, thinking he was the man you’d marry, until you’d discovered that he was…ot the man you’d thought he was at all.

Very disheartening.

“Can I put that up for you?”

The deep male voice rumbled, yanking Charlene from her reverie.

“What?” She realized he was holding out his hand, the expression on his very handsome face expectant. He lifted a brow, glanced significantly at her carry-on, then at her. “Oh, yes. Thank you.”

He swung the bag up with ease while she slipped into the window seat. She focused on latching her seat belt, stowing her purse under the seat and settling in. It wasn’t until the plane backed away from the gate to taxi toward the runaway that she really looked at the man beside her.

He was staring at the inflight magazine but Charlene had the distinct impression he wasn’t reading. In profile, his face was all angles with high cheekbones, chiseled lips and a strong jawline. His dark brown hair was short, just shy of a buzz cut, and from her side view, his eyelashes were amazingly long and thick. She wondered idly what color his eyes were.

She didn’t wonder long. He glanced up, his gaze meeting hers.

Brown. His eyes were brown. The kind of eyes a woman could lose herself in, she thought hazily.

His eyes darkened, lashes half lowering as he studied her.

Charlene’s breath caught at the male interest he didn’t bother to hide. Her skin heated, her nipples peaking beneath the soft lace of her bra.

Stunned at the depth of her reaction, she couldn’t pull her gaze from his.

Despite his preoccupation with what lay ahead of him in Amarillo, Nicholas couldn’t ignore the quick surge of interest when he looked up and saw the woman standing in the aisle.

When he stood to let her reach her seat, she brushed by him and the scent of subtle perfume teased his senses. The sleek fall of auburn hair spilled forward as she sat, leaning forward to slide her purse beneath her seat. She tucked the long strands back behind her ear while she settled in and latched her seat belt.

Finally, she glanced sideways at him and he was able to catch a glimpse. Her thick-lashed eyes were green as new spring grass. They widened as she stared at him.

She wasn’t just pretty. She was beautiful, he realized. And if the faint flush on her cheeks was any indication, she was feeling the same slam of sexual awareness that had hit him like a fist the moment her gaze had met his.

“Everything okay?” he asked when she continued to stare at him without speaking.

She blinked, and just that quickly the faintly unfocused expression was gone, replaced by a sharp awareness.

“Yes.” She lifted one slender-fingered hand in a dismissive gesture. “I had to nearly run to catch the plane. I hate being late.”

Nicholas nodded and would have said more, but just then the plane engines throttled up, the sound increasingly louder as the jet hurtled down the runaway and left the tarmac. He glanced at the woman beside him and found her gripping the armrests, eyes closed.

Clearly, she didn’t like to fly. Air travel didn’t bother Nicholas, but he waited until the plane leveled out and her white-knuckled grip relaxed before he spoke.

“I’m Nicholas.” He purposely didn’t tell her his last name. The Fortune surname was well-known in Red Rock and being part of a rich, powerful family carried its own problems. He’d learned early that many people associated the name with a preconceived set of expectations.

“Charlene London,” she responded as she took a bottle of water from her bag. “Are you flying to Amarillo on business?” she asked, sipping her water.

“Not exactly.” He paused, frowning.

Charlene tucked an errant strand of hair behind one ear with an absentminded gesture. What did that mean? “I see,” she said.

He laughed—a short, wry chuckle. “I don’t mean to be vague. My trip is both business and personal.”

“Oh.” Curious though she was, Charlene was reluctant to grill him. Somewhere in the coach section of the airplane, a baby began to cry.

Nick stiffened and appeared to listen intently until the cries turned to whimpers. Tension eased from his body and he looked at her, his gaze turbulent.

“My college roommate and his wife died a few days ago and I’m guardian of their daughters. I’m going to Amarillo to take custody of three kids. Triplets.” He sighed. “Twelve-month-old triplets.”

Charlene’s eyes widened with shock. She was speechless for a moment. “You’re kidding,” she finally managed to get out.

“Nope.” His expression was part gloom, part stark dread. “I’m not kidding.”

“Do you and your wife have children of your own?”

“I’m not married. And I don’t have any kids,” he added. “The closest I’ve ever come to having a dependant is my dog, Rufus.”

“So you’ll be caring for three babies…all by yourself?”

He nodded. “That’s about the size of it.”

“That’s crazy.”

“Yeah,” he said with conviction. “Insane.”

“I’m the oldest of six siblings, two of whom are twins,” Charlene said. “If you’d permit a little advice from someone who’s been there—you should hire a full-time nanny, and the sooner the better.”

Nicholas thought she probably was right—in fact, the more he considered the idea, the more he was convinced. Before he could ask her more questions, however, the woman walking the crying baby up and down the aisle reached their row.

“Excuse me.” Charlene stood.

Nicholas wanted to ask her if she knew anything about hiring nannies, but her abrupt request stopped him. He stepped into the aisle to let her pass him. Her shoulder brushed his chest in the slightest of touches, yet his muscles tensed as if she’d trailed her fingertips over his bare skin.

Nick dragged in a steadying breath, but it only served to flood his senses with the scent of subtle perfume and warm woman.

He nearly groaned aloud. He’d dated a lot of women over the years, but he hadn’t reacted to a female with the level of gut-deep, instant lust since he was a teenager. He blinked, frowned and ordered his rebellious body to calm down. He couldn’t afford to be distracted just now—he had to focus on dealing with Stan and Amy’s little girls.

He dropped back into his seat. He expected Charlene to walk toward the lavatories at the front of the first class section, but instead, she waited until the young mother turned and moved back down the aisle.

“Hi,” Charlene smiled at the weary mother. “I bet you’re exhausted.”

Oh hell. Nick tensed when the woman holding the baby looked like she was going to cry. He hated it when women cried. Fortunately, the woman didn’t burst into tears.

“I’m beyond exhausted,” the woman murmured, patting the wailing baby on the back soothingly. “And so is she,” she added. “I don’t think either one of us has slept more than a half hour at a time for days.”

“Oh my. My little brother did the same thing,” Charlene said, her gaze warm and sympathetic. “He was born several weeks premature and had acid reflux. Poor little guy. It took a while for us to figure out how to handle him so he could fall asleep.”

The young mother’s eyes widened. “You found a solution? What was it?”

“I’d be glad to show you,” Charlene said, holding out her arms.

The woman hesitated, clearly torn about handing her baby to a complete stranger.

“I totally understand if you’re not comfortable with having me hold her, after all, we don’t know each other,” Charlene said reassuringly. “I could try to explain, but it’s much easier to demonstrate.”

The baby chose that moment to wail even louder than before. The unhappy cry seemed to galvanize the mother, because she eased the tiny little girl off her shoulder and passed her carefully to Charlene.

Nick didn’t know much about babies, but every one he’d seen had been cradled or propped against someone’s shoulder. Charlene did neither. Instead, she laid the baby facedown on her arm, the little head in the palm of her hand, and gently swayed her back and forth while smoothing her free palm over the tiny back. The baby’s arms waved jerkily, slowing in time with her cries that quickly gave way to hiccupping sobs, then blessed silence.

Nick stared at Charlene. Damn. She’s good. Really good.

He glanced at the baby’s mother and found her expression as surprised as he felt.

“How in the world did you do that?” she whispered.

“Experience,” Charlene murmured, her fingertips continuing to gently rub in soothing circles over the little girl’s back. The pink cotton dress matched the baby’s sock-covered feet, now dangling limply on either side of Charlene’s arm. “I was twelve when my little brother was born.” She glanced down at the baby, fast asleep and seemingly boneless in her arms. “If you tilt her slightly to the right when you hold her, change her diaper or feed her, it helps with acid reflux too. I don’t know if your little girl has that problem, but if she does, the pain can make her so uncomfortable that she won’t be able to fall asleep or stay asleep.”

“Thank you so much.” The words carried a wealth of heartfelt appreciation as she carefully took the sleeping baby from Charlene.

“You’re welcome,” Charlene replied, moving aside to let the mother and child step past her. She watched them move down the aisle and return to their seat in coach.

Nick stood to let Charlene slip into her seat near the window, then dropped into his own.

“Impressive,” he told her. “Very impressive.”

She shrugged and picked up her water bottle to sip. “Basic stuff, if you’ve ever helped care for a baby. Unfortunately, most new moms only find out about the little things to make life easier for them and their baby if they talk to someone who’s coped hands-on with the problem.”

After watching Charlene’s easy confidence with the crying baby before she handed the peacefully sleeping child back to her mother, Nicholas knew he’d found the answer to his urgent need for a nanny. “Makes sense. Experience always counts. I need someone with that level of experience. How about you?” he asked.

“How about me…what?”

“Being the nanny for the triplets. I’ll pay you double whatever the going rate is,” he went on when she shook her head.

“I’m sorry, I really am. But I’ll be looking for a job in Amarillo.”

“What if I offered you a substantial signing bonus—say, twenty-five thousand dollars?”

Her eyes widened. “That’s a very generous offer—and one that guarantees applicants will be standing in line for the position. You’ll have your pick of nannies. You don’t need me.”

“Yes, I do.” Nick was convinced. Charlene didn’t appear to share his opinion, however. “In fact, I’m so sure you’re the only person for the triplets that I’ll add another twenty-five thousand dollar bonus if you stay until their aunt is found and comes to get them.”

She stared at him for a loaded moment. “Their aunt is taking them?”

Nick was surprised she didn’t ask about the money, but if she wanted information about the babies, he’d give it to her. “I don’t have permanent custody of the girls, only temporary care until the estate locates Amy’s sister, Lana. She’s a teacher, and according to Amy, a career volunteer with various organizations overseas, helping children in third world countries. She’s also married.” Unlike me, he thought. A confirmed bachelor with no plans to marry anytime soon. “So the girls will have two parents instead of only me.”

“I see.”

For a brief moment, Nick thought Charlene was going to accept his offer. But then she shook her head.

“I’m sorry, especially since I know how difficult it is to care for more than one baby. But I have plans and I’ve made promises to people. I can’t let them down on such short notice.”

“You’re sure I can’t change your mind?”

“No, I’m afraid not.”

“Too bad.” He pulled a business card and pen from his inner jacket pocket and wrote on the back of the card. “This is my cell phone number, in case you reconsider the offer. I’ll be in Amarillo until tomorrow, when I have reservations to fly the girls back to Red Rock.”

“You aren’t staying in Amarillo very long,” she commented as she took the card, tucking it into her purse without reading it.

“No. I want to take the triplets home as soon as possible and get them settled in. I doubt anything will make this easier for them, but I thought the faster I transfer them, the better.” He pointed at her purse where his card had disappeared. “Call me if you change your mind.”

“I’ll keep your card,” she replied. “But I don’t think it’s likely I’ll change my mind.”

They parted in the terminal, Nicholas heading for the exit and Charlene moving to baggage pickup.

Saying goodbye felt wrong. Charlene had to force herself not to turn around and give him her phone number, ask him to call…ead until he promised to meet her later.

Her level of conviction that Nick was somehow important to her was profound.

This is crazy. She held her chin up and kept walking, but her thoughts continued to tumble, one over the other, refusing to leave Nick even as she physically moved farther away from him.

She’d never felt anything approaching the instant attraction that had flared between them, her nerves shaking with need during that first long exchange of glances. Lust and sexual attraction were far more powerful forces than she’d imagined. The time spent sitting next to Nick during the flight had given her new insight into just how intensely her body could respond to the right man. Those moments were forcing her to reevaluate whether she’d ever truly been deeply moved before—including with Barry, she realized with sudden shock.

Yet she’d become engaged to Barry, she reminded herself in an effort to regain control of her emotions. Clearly her wisdom in this area wasn’t infallible. Besides, a man was the last thing she needed or wanted in her life right now. She definitely didn’t need the complication of a man who was about to become an instant father to three little girls.

Still, she’d been impressed with Nicholas’s willingness to take on the babies. She couldn’t help but compare his heroic, stand-up attitude with her ex’s lack of responsibility. She couldn’t imagine Barry in Nicholas’s situation. She seriously doubted Barry would have agreed to take custody of three children. He was adamantly opposed to becoming a parent. It was one of the issues they couldn’t agree on, since she very much wanted children—an issue that, ultimately, had caused her to conclude they were completely mismatched.

Charlene collected her three suitcases and stepped out of the crowd of passengers to pull a jacket from inside the smallest bag. March in chilly Amarillo was a far cry from the warmth of Red Rock, located in southern Texas near San Antonio. Sure enough, when she wheeled her bags outside, she was glad she had the added protection of the coat. She tucked her chin into the shelter of her collar and halted to scan the line of cars crowding the curb.

“Charlene! Over here!” Her mother’s voice carried clearly over the hum and chatter of passengers.

Charlene returned Angie’s enthusiastic wave and hurried down the walkway.

“Mom, it’s so good to see you.” Charlene basked in her mother’s warm hug, breathing in the familiar scent of Estée Lauder perfume.

“It’s been too long,” Angie said, scolding with a loving smile as she stepped back, holding Charlene at arm’s length. Her eyes narrowed as she swept a swift glance over her daughter, from her toes to the crown of her head. “You’re too skinny.”

Charlene laughed. “You always say that, Mom. I’ve lost inches but not pounds—I’ve been working out at the gym.”

“Well, now that you’re home, I’m going to feed you,” Angie declared firmly.

They loaded Charlene’s bags into the trunk. Moments later, Angie expertly negotiated traffic as they left the airport.

“Are you enjoying being in the condo, or do you think you’ll miss having a big yard this summer? You spent hours gardening at the old house, and I know you loved the flowers.” Charlene’s mother had sold the rambler where she and her siblings had grown up after her parents’ divorce three years earlier. Following college graduation and Charlene’s move to Red Rock, Angie had insisted she should be the one to travel for visits to her six children, especially Charlene, since her job as a Health Unit Coordinator at the hospital E.R. kept her so busy. As a result, Charlene had only seen her mother’s condo on two short weekend trips.

“I love condo life,” Angie said with a happy smile. “I still garden, but now I’m planting flowers and herbs in terra cotta pots on the lanai. Of course,” she added. “I still have to mow the strip of grass in my backyard, but it’s tiny compared to the big lawn at the old house.”

Angie’s voice rang with contentment. Charlene knew what a difficult time her mother had had after the divorce, and was immeasurably relieved that she appeared to have adjusted so well.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it, Mom.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and adjusted her Ray-Bans a little higher on her nose to better block the late afternoon sun. “What are you doing with all your free time, now that you’re not mowing grass and pulling weeds?”

“I’ve been busy at work,” Angie began before pausing to clear her throat. “And…I’ve met someone,” she blurted.

Surprised, Charlene looked at her mother and was startled to see a hint of color on her cheeks. “That’s great, Mom. Who is he?”

“His name is Lloyd Weber and he’s an architect for a firm here in Amarillo. We met playing bridge. I joined the group about six months ago.”

“So, you’re dating?” Charlene could hardly get her mind around the image of her mother dating. Not that she objected—in fact, she’d urged her mom to get out and about. Angie was fifty-two and loved people and social interaction; Charlene truly believed her mom would be happier in a committed relationship.

“Well, yes—we’ve been dating for a while.” Angie pulled up in front of the condo building and parked. Her expression reflected concern and a certain trepidation when she unlatched her seat belt and half-turned to meet Charlene’s gaze. “I didn’t tell you before, because…ell, because I wasn’t sure whether Lloyd and I were going to become serious. But two weeks ago he moved in with me.”

Charlene stared at her mother, stunned. “You’re living together?”

“Yes, dear.”

“Here in your condo?”

Angie nodded. “His house is being remodeled before he puts it on the market, and he was staying in a bed-and-breakfast. I told him it was silly to spend all that money when we’re together nearly all the time anyway. I convinced him to move in here.”

“Well, um.” Charlene managed to say. “That’s great, Mom. If he makes you happy, I’m delighted.”

“You’re not upset?”

“Mom, of course I’m not upset.” Charlene hugged Angie. “I think it’s great.” She sat back, laughing at the sheer relief on her mother’s face. “If he’s a great guy who’s being good to you and you’re happy, then I’m thrilled for you.”

“I’m very happy, and he is a great guy,” Angie said firmly. “Now come on, let’s get your things inside so you can meet him.”

Charlene followed Angie up the sidewalk, towing a rolling suitcase behind her.

What am I going to do now? The question made her feel totally selfish in light of her mother’s transparent happiness. But Charlene’s practical side told her the situation required a change of plans. She couldn’t stay at the condo with her mother and Lloyd during what was surely the honeymoon stage of their relationship.

She needed a new plan. And fast.

What the hell was I thinking?

Nick strode away from Charlene and didn’t look back. The airport wasn’t crowded and it was a matter of moments before he reached the exit doors and walked outside. He knew it was the worst possible time to meet a woman who interested him. And Charlene London was too pretty to hire as a nanny.

He was going to have enough problems dealing with the sea change about to happen in his life. He didn’t need to move a sexy, gorgeous woman into his house to complicate life even more.

He spotted a uniformed driver holding a sign with his name in big block letters, and changed direction to reach the black Lincoln Town Car. During the drive to Andrew Sanchez’s office, he scanned a file with information about Stan and Amy’s estate the attorney had asked the driver to give him.

Andrew Sanchez was a rotund, balding man in his mid-fifties. Businesslike and efficient, he still exuded an air of concern and sympathy.

“Do you have family or friends available to help with the triplets?” he asked Nick as they concluded their meeting.

“No, but I’m planning to find a nanny. Until then I have a housekeeper, and she’s agreed to work longer hours until I can find someone.”

“You might want to consider two nannies,” Mr. Sanchez commented. “Those three little girls are dynamos.” He grinned with wry affection. “I’m glad you’re a younger man, because just spending an hour with them at their foster home wore me out. You’re going to need all the energy you can muster.”

Nick nodded. He didn’t tell the older man that he had no clue how much energy one little girl required from a caretaker, let alone three of them at once. “You’re continuing to search for Amy’s sister?”

The attorney nodded. “I’ve hired a detective agency to look for her. They told me they can’t give us a time frame, since she’s out of the country, but at least Amy’s e-mail files gave us the name of the mission organization in Africa that employed her. It’s a place to start hunting.” He sighed. “The e-mail records on Amy’s computer indicate her sister stopped communicating a month or so ago. Also that Amy had been trying to contact her but had no success.”

“Any idea why?”

“Lana and her husband apparently resigned their positions with the relief agency where they were employed. But we don’t know where they went after that. And given that the two are working in a remote area of Africa, well…” Sanchez spread his hands and shrugged. “It’s anyone’s guess where they’ve gone or how long before they surface. As I said, the detective agency warned me they can’t guarantee a time frame for locating the couple.”

“Let’s hope they find her soon. I have to believe Amy’s sister and her husband will be better at caring for three little girls than I am.”

“The important thing is that you’re willing to try.” The attorney shook his head. “The interim foster home where the girls are staying is a good situation, but they can’t stay there indefinitely. They’ll be much better off with you while we’re searching for their aunt.”

“I hope you’re right.” Nick wasn’t convinced.

It was after 6:00 p.m. before the attorney and Nick finished going over the will and other documents.

“I took the liberty of booking a room for you in a nearby hotel,” Sanchez told him as they pushed back chairs and stood. “I understand the triplets are in bed for the night by 7:00 p.m. I thought you might want to wait until morning to see them.”

“I appreciate it.” Nicholas held out his hand. “Thanks for everything.”

“You’re welcome.” The attorney’s clasp was firm. “Let me know if there’s anything else I can do for you. And I’ll notify you as soon as I receive any information as to the whereabouts of Amy’s sister.”

Nick walked to the door. “It seems odd to pick up the girls and leave Amarillo without saying goodbye in some way.”

“I know.” The attorney nodded. “But their wills were very specific. As the closest living relative, Amy’s sister will organize a memorial service so friends can pay their respects when she returns.”

“I’m damned sure neither of them ever thought they’d die together and leave the kids,” Nick muttered, almost to himself.

“No one ever does.” Sanchez shook his head. “It’s a hell of a situation. We’ll just have to do the best we can and search diligently for the children’s aunt.”

“Right.” Nick said goodbye and left the office to climb into the town car once more.

The conversation with Andrew Sanchez had driven home the unbelievable fact that Stan and Amy were gone. Nick barely noticed the streets the limo drove down as they headed toward the hotel.

Despite his conviction that Charlene wasn’t the best choice for an employee on a purely personal level, he definitely believed her experience made her the perfect woman to care for Stan’s daughters. Before he unpacked his bag in the hotel room, he called his office in Red Rock and asked his assistant to run a preliminary employment check on Charlene London.

Just in case, he told himself, she called and said yes to the job offer. He knew the fact that she hadn’t given him her contact number made the likelihood a million-to-one shot—but he was a man who believed in luck.

And he was going to need a boatload of luck to get through the next few days, or weeks, or however long it took before the triplets’ aunt showed up to claim them.