the babies with him here.
“Then I’ll go talk to Caleb,” Abby said. “I would like to give him a good reason for leaving suddenly. Is this a secret?”
“No. Tell who you like. I’m not ashamed.” Jackson had already called his agent and asked her to issue a statement anyway. Everything that concerned Jackson Beauford was big news.
Abby nodded. “I’ll see you at Beauford Bend.”
How the hell was he going to occupy himself for five weeks?
Chapter Five
“I think I’m missing a piece, Rafe.” Jackson held up a long, thin piece of wood. “I think I’m supposed to have two of these. Do you have an extra?”
Rafe looked up from his own pile of kindling and bucket of bolts. Who knew that a crib that converted to a toddler bed would be so complicated? Not that he knew how to put together a regular crib either. Six hours ago, Abby had pointed to what she wanted on a website, and Sammy had gone to Nashville and brought them back. Now, there were pieces scattered all over the floor.
“I told y’all not to mix up the pieces,” Sammy said. “We might should have put them together one at a time instead of each of us working on one.”
“It’ll be faster this way,” Jackson said stubbornly.
“Whatever you say, boss.” Sammy was further along with his bed than Jackson or Rafe, though he wasn’t doing too well, either. At this rate, those kids would have nowhere to sleep by bedtime—or next week.
“Seems like there’s someone we could have hired to do this,” Rafe said.
“We don’t need to hire anybody,” Jackson said. “If a man can make a baby, he ought to be able to put a baby bed together.”
“Ought to,” Sammy said under his breath.
“As soon as we get these beds squared away,” Jackson said, “we’ll move Rafe’s stuff from his suite to his new room.”
What the hell? “New room? I have a
new
room?”
“Sure.” Jackson didn’t look up from the pieces he was screwing together—pieces that didn’t look like they belonged together. “You’re going to want to move out of your suite to the other wing to be nearer your kids.”
He absolutely did not want that, didn’t need that, wasn’t going to have it.
“No,” Rafe said. “I’m good where I am.”
“The hell you are. What you’re going to do is what you ought to do—which is move closer to those kids.”
“What for? I hired a nanny—the nanny Emory wanted me to hire. She’ll take care of them. I don’t know anything about kids.”
“It’s not about their basic care,” Jackson said. “It’s about being there for them.”
“So I guess you’re the be all, end all authority on kids now that Emory’s pregnant.”
Sammy’s head snapped up. “Emory’s pregnant?”
Jackson groaned. “Thanks a lot, Raphael. We weren’t going to tell for a while.”
“You told me.”
“It was necessary under the circumstances. We didn’t know you were going to tell the world.”
“So I’m the
world
now?” Sammy said in a hurt voice.
“If you wanted it kept secret, you might have mentioned that,” Rafe said.
Jackson pointed with his screwdriver. “Be that as it may, you need to move—” But he was interrupted.
“Rafe, I’m here!” The voice came from down the hall and was accompanied by running footsteps.
“Is that …?” Rafe began.
“Oh, hell, no!” Jackson said. “Why did you call her?”
And their cousin, Missy Bragg, from Merritt, Alabama burst into the room.
“I didn’t.” As Rafe rose, he felt a smile pulling at his mouth and noticed Jackson was also trying hard to fight off a grin. Missy was bossy and outspoken, and they adored her.
“You didn’t what?” Missy threw herself into Rafe’s arms. “I came as soon as Emory called. And I brought Lucy to decorate the nursery.”
Exactly what they needed—nursery decorations. Didn’t everybody?
“Emory called you, did she?” Jackson stepped forward for his own hug.
“Of course I did,” Emory entered the room with Lucy