Page 33 of Secret Baby for the Triplets

“Toby…”

I look down and see Emerson waving at me. My gaze darts from the mayor to the crowd and back toward the redhead warily.

“Come here,” she mouths. “Just for a second.”

“Mr. Collins, please.” The mayor is losing her good humor with me. “I don’t want to escort you out but?—”

“No need for that, Mayor,” Emerson calls out. “Toby? Just for a second?”

Her pleading coaxes me down, those big green eyes haunting and oddly familiar as I climb off the stage.

“What?” I grumble. “I could have gotten her to agree if you had given me five more minutes.”

“Maybe,” she concedes, sitting me down next to her. “Or we come back with a much bigger crowd and more voices.”

She gestures behind her. “Look,” she continues. “You obviously have the interest already. We just need to rally more people in the community. The only way to get her to listen is to get louder.”

I stare at her with renewed interest, my eyes searching her pretty face. But she’s more than just a pretty face, isn’t she? She’s got the brains to back that up.

“What are you thinking?” I ask slowly.

“Why don’t we get out of here and go make a game plan?” she suggests. “That way when we come back, she won’t be able to say no.”

* * *

I hate the days when my brothers take Emerson away from me, even though Owen and Brock insist she belongs to the entire ranch and not just my cause.

“You can’t monopolize her,” Brock warns me a week after she arrives. “She’s starting to look tired. You’re overworking her.”

I slap his hands as he reaches for the last dinner roll, and he hits me back, snatching it up off the plate. He pops it in his mouth before I can do anything about it.

I scowl. “I’m not the one who has her doing the work of ten people. You have her bookkeeping, inventory, budgeting, and scheduling!” I fire back. “How the fuck is this on me?”

“She worked through her day off,” Owen comments over the dinner table. “She wanted to invite some people over on her day off, but she didn’t do that.”

I put my fork down and stare at him. “What people? Who?”

He frowns at me. “What the hell difference does it make? The point is, she didn’t. She was in the office all day, catching up on work. Maybe we are working her too hard.”

Owen looks at Brock, and he continues to eat.

“It’s the job,” Brock says. “If it’s too much for her to handle, she has to say something. It’s still in the early stages, and she’s learning the ropes.”

He nods at me again. “Plus, this one has her jumping through hoops with this horse project.”

Sure. It’s always on me.

I throw my napkin down on the table and stand.

“Oh, now what?” Brock demands. “Sit down and finish eating. Stop being such a fucking baby all the time.”

“I’m going to talk to her,” I tell him, ignoring his jab. “If she’s working through her days off because of me, that has to stop. If you’re not going to cut back on your workload, someone has to.”

“Talk to her about it tomorrow. It’s late, and you shouldn’t be visiting her place alone after hours. That’s especially true for you, Toby,” Brock grunts, but I hear the smidgen of guilt in his voice.

Good. Fuck him.

“Fuck you both,” I mutter, storming out toward the coach house.

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