Her Cowboy's Triplets (The Boones of Texas 7)

Marilyn’s was pink, Suellen’s was blue and Amberleigh’s was green—with just enough orange to show off the butterflies.

“You and Nana,” Amberleigh said, setting to work.

“She’s getting so good with her words,” Mrs. Wallace said. “Guess she finally decided she had something to say.”

India smiled, letting the girls make her an over-the-top crown with every color butterfly imaginable. And extra glitter.

“My,” Mrs. Wallace said, her eyes round. “Don’t you look sparkly?”

India laughed. “Make sure you put extra glitter on Nana’s.”

“Mind if we join you?” India’s mother asked, sitting opposite Mrs. Wallace. “Nice to see you, Ramona.”

“Good morning, Evelyn,” Mrs. Wallace said, smiling. “Looks like a perfect day for a festival.”

“Doesn’t it, though?” her mother agreed.

India shot a look at her sister, but Scarlett just shrugged. “You’ve got crowns, now we need to make wings. So you can fly.”

The girls’ wings were done when the first cows appeared at the head of Main Street.

“Fly this way, girls,” India said. “Watch and see. I bet you’ll see some people you know riding this way.”

The girls flapped their arms, their fabric wings and colorful ribbons blowing in the morning breeze. They lit up when they saw Cal, waving and calling his name. Good boy that he was, he nodded, keeping the reins in both hands. He sat tall in the saddle, Brody on one side, Click on the other. And her father bringing up the rear.

“Daddy!” Amberleigh called, so delighted the other two clapped and squealed, too.

“He’s so handsome,” her sister whispered.

“He is,” she agreed, unable to take her eyes off Brody.

He waved at his girls and blew kisses, his tawny eyes crinkling and full of love. He loved her, too. He’d said so. And, according to Brody, a man’s word was his promise.

“India?” her mother nudged her. “You okay?”

She nodded, unable to explain how right everything was in the moment. “I’m happy, Mom.”

Her mother and sister hugged her tight. Life couldn’t get much better.

* * *

BRODY SPOTTED HIS girls before they saw him. All of his girls, India, too.

They were working the Butterfly Kissing Booth, his girls laughing every time India had to brush her eyelashes across someone’s cheek. Brody was glad they were butterfly kisses. The idea of India kissing another man, even for charity’s sake, didn’t sit well.

“What’s Mom wearing?” Cal asked.

“Looks like a butterfly crown.” Brody smiled. She looked beautiful. And shiny.

“Girls are weird.” Cal sighed.

“They are,” he agreed. “Good thing we love ’em.”

Cal nodded, patting Tanner. “She’s a good mom. You’ll be real lucky if she says yes.”

“I will,” Brody agreed, his own butterflies churning in his stomach. When he’d imagined this, it had seemed easy—and romantic. Now, he wasn’t so sure.

“Daddy.” Suellen waved. “Butterfly kisses.”