“I’ve been watching you, Jen,” he said softly. “I’ve been seeing your pain at what’s happening. Even before your baby’s born, you’re being torn apart by what’s best for him. And maybe I’m seeing…” His voice died away as he looked at her.
“That what was best for you might have torn your own mother apart,” Jen said gently. “Oh, Michael.”
“Yeah, well, I haven’t found anyone yet,” he said gruffly. “But maybe I’m giving her the benefit of the doubt by trying.”
She looked at the list. “But…”
“Yeah, but! There’s maybes all over the place,” he told her. “Come to Garrett’s with me, and we’ll talk about it.”
How could she refuse an invitation like that?
THEY STOPPED downtown first.
“If you’re coming to the party with me, you deserve to wear something decent,” Michael told her.
“Then stop at the camping store,” Jenny said, half serious. “A tent’s all I’ll fit into. Three-man, at least.”
“No camping store. Lana told me where to go.” He closed his ears to her protests, pulled to a halt in front of an upscale maternity store and then proceeded to take charge, just as he had with the baby clothes. While Jenny muttered protestations about interfering males, he delved through one rack after another and finally found what he wanted.
“This,” he said firmly, and she stared.
It was gorgeous-a soft, gold silk maternity dress with a scooped neckline and no sleeves. It was gathered under the breast with white and gold ribbon, then fell away to just below the knee in yards and yards of gorgeous, silken folds.
It would look fabulous on a nonpregnant woman. On Jenny’s bulk, she wasn’t so sure. But the sales assistant and Michael propelled her into the fitting room and refused to let her out until she’d tried it on. To her surprise, the dress swirled around her in soft folds like a wondrous golden cloud. She looked maternal and serene and very, very lovely.
“You’ll be able to wear it after the baby’s come,” the saleslady assured her, staring into the mirror at Jenny’s reflection. “Oh, it’s just beautiful, and it’ll be perfect even after you get your waistline back.”
“I’m never getting my waistline back-I left it in England,” Jenny said darkly. “Michael, this is ridiculous. What a waste.”
“It’s not a waste, Jenny,” he told her, turning her by her shoulders to face the mirror again. “Look at yourself and tell me just how ridiculous you are.”
“Michael…”
“Just look.”
So she did, and what she saw made her stare. Sure, this was a maternity dress, but it was made for someone young and beautiful. It seemed to light her up from inside. It made her hair gloss around her face and deepened the blush on her cheeks. It made her feel…
It made her feel nineteen again. Young, beautiful, desirable. All the things that Peter had knocked out of her with his disparaging comments and his suggestions that she was inferior to the women who moved in his social circles.
Her lips twitched involuntarily into the beginnings of delight, and Michael saw and smiled his satisfaction.
“You like it. That makes the pair of us. We’ll buy it.”
“Michael, it’s way too expensive.” But her protest was feeble.
“All the better to waste my money on. Come on, Cinderella. Let’s head for the ball before your pumpkin escapes from under there!”
“It’s a funny thing.” The saleslady laughed as she took Michael’s money. “Nearly every time I sell a maternity dress this close to term, the woman comes back later-and thinner-and says the baby arrived almost right away. It’s like a lucky charm. I wonder if it’ll happen this time?”
“It had better not,” Jenny said, startled, and she glared at her bulge. “You hear that, pumpkin? You stay right there.”
“Come on, then, Cinderella,” Michael said, and grabbed her hand. “Let’s go. Midnight’s coming up fast.”
IT WASN’T quite a ball, but it might as well have been for the enjoyment she had. Supper at Garrett’s was fun. The whole family made her feel welcome, and although Jenny felt more and more like she was being drawn in out of her depth, there was no way she could not enjoy herself. They were so happy-Lana and her Dylan, big, kindly Garrett and possessive Shelby, who’d checked Jenny out from every angle and decided she’d share this precious brother of hers.
The mood was lighthearted, but there was also the hint of suspense-a suspense that ended when Garrett said over coffee, “Okay, Michael. What have you got for us?”
Michael hauled out his list and showed it to his three astounded siblings.
“Michael,” Shelby breathed, staring at the names on Michael’s list. “You agreed to help?” She gazed at him in total astonishment. “Why?”
“Something Garrett said,” Michael replied baldly, and Garrett nodded. He smiled at Jenny.
“So it’s thanks to you, Jenny,” Shelby said.
“I had nothing to do with it,” Jenny retorted, flushing under their gazes. “What Michael decides has nothing to do with me.”
But it did, and they all knew it. The three siblings took in her flushed appearance and Michael’s scowl, and they all came to the same conclusion.
“You might as well look at the list I’ve made,” Michael said finally, breaking the silence, “instead of sitting there and looking so smug.”
“They all check out,” Lana said, after sifting through the list of names. “I mean, you’ve traced them all except for these.”
Michael had worked on every set of triplets and tried to research the parents’ names, as well. He’d also attempted to find an adult contact from each set.
The one family he’d reached so far had splintered. The mother had gone one way with the girls, the father had gone another with the boy. Michael had managed to locate the son-in prison.
“Ugh, I’m glad that’s not you, Mike,” Shelby breathed. “A mugger. Just what every family needs.”
“I may be driven to it yet,” Michael said. “Lord knows I’ve come close enough with you guys for siblings. Or even murder. Justifiable homicide if ever I saw it.”
He was hit with a cushion for his pains, but Shelby only had half a mind on what she was doing. Her attention was on the list again.
“What about this last one?”
“None of these might fit,” Michael warned. “We could have been brought here from out of state or over the border.”
“There’s not a lot of Mexicans with our coloring,” Shelby retorted. “There’s Irish blood in us somewhere. But you’re right. Another state’s a possibility. Still, our mother had to have known Megan’s reputation to have left us where she did, so chances are she was local.”
“LeeAnn and Gary Larrimore,” Lana read. Michael had duplicates of the list, and she was leaning against Dylan’s shoulder as she read. “Two girls, one boy. Triplets born April twenty-sixth.”
“The date makes it about right.”
“And you can’t find any trace of the adults?”
“No.” Michael frowned. “Now the out-of-state thing comes in. If it is them, if they’re us, then the family must have moved here close to the birth.”
“Why?”
“Because there’s no trace of a Garrett Larrimore registered as born in Texas in the two years before the triplets were born. I assume our mother wouldn’t have registered our births-which explains why there’s no trace of us-but Garrett’s got to be somewhere. So maybe this LeeAnn and Gary had their triplets here and then took their babies home again. To California. To Canada. To anywhere. The hospital records are useless for that sort of information. I’m doing a national search, but it’s not in yet. The only thing is…”
“Yes?” He had the attention of everyone in the room.
“After I found the records of the triplet birth, I did a search for births and deaths of Larrimores for the
