Jesse’s head snapped up, and once again his face looked as if it had been carved out of stone.
Lori hoped she woudn’t live to regret her next words.
“Are you still looking for a nanny?”
“That’s right.” The words sounded curt. “I didn’t realize you were interested in the position. When can you start?” Jesse’s words were sarcastic. He must want to scare her off. He’d already fired five nannies in the months since the triplets were born.
Lori met his gaze. And smiled sweetly. She could handle him.
“Right now.”
After the Storm:
A Kansas community unites to rebuild
Healing the Boss’s Heart—Valerie Hansen
July 2009
Marrying Minister Right—Annie Jones
August 2009
Rekindled Hearts—Brenda Minton
September 2009
The Matchmaking Pact—Carolyne Aarsen
October 2009
A Family for Thanksgiving—Patricia Davids
November 2009
Jingle Bell Babies—Kathryn Springer
December 2009
is a lifelong Wisconsin resident. Growing up in a “newspaper” family, she spent long hours as a child plunking out stories on her mother’s typewriter and hasn’t stopped writing since! She loves to write inspirational romance because it allows her to combine her faith in God with her love of a happy ending.
Special thanks and acknowledgment to
Kathryn Springer for her contribution to the
After the Storm miniseries.
Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope;
because of the Lord’s great love we are not
consumed, for his compassions never fail.
They are new every morning.
—Lamentations 3:21–23
To Val, Annie, Brenda, Carolyne and Pat. It was an
honor to be able to work with such gifted writers.
Your cooperation, encouragement and prayer
support over the course of the summer was a real
blessing—and I love how we occasionally took
“cyber-coffee breaks” together!
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Questions for Discussion
July 11, 1:15 p.m.
“One of the funnel clouds that touched down in the area yesterday and struck the small town of High Plains was determined to be a level F3. Already the Red Cross, local law enforcement agents and volunteers have banded together to begin cleanup—”
Jesse Logan stabbed his finger against the power button of the radio. He didn’t need to hear a reporter condense the past twenty-four hours into a neat sound bite, or try to describe the damage a second funnel cloud had caused when it slashed across the prairie, directly toward the Circle L.
Jesse had seen the devastation firsthand; he was standing in the middle of it.
The kitchen lay in shambles around him. The twister had spared the outbuildings but clipped the side of the ranch house, taking out a section of the wall, while leaving his mother’s antique china cabinet in the corner of the room intact. Glass from the shattered window littered the floor, strewn among soggy tufts of insulation and chunks of sodden wallboard.
Jesse picked up a piece of wood and was about to pitch it into the growing pile of debris when he realized it was one of the legs from the kitchen table.
His fingers tightened around it, ignoring the splinters that bit into his skin.
Yesterday morning he’d sat at the table, before going out to do his chores.
And yesterday afternoon…
A fresh wave of pain crashed over Jesse, making him wonder if he wasn’t still caught in the throes of a nightmare. Except his eyes weren’t closed.
The crunch of tires against gravel momentarily broke through his turbulent thoughts. For a split second hope stirred inside his chest as he sent up a silent prayer that the car coming up the driveway would be a familiar one.
It was.
The hammer slipped out of Jesse’s hand and grazed a crease in the hardwood floor as the High Plains squad car stopped in front of the house. Colt Ridgeway’s tall frame unfolded from the passenger side.
As the police chief approached, the stoic set of his jaw and the regret darkening his eyes told Jesse everything.
No. No. No.
“This is going to be hard for you to hear, Jesse.” His friend’s quiet words barely penetrated the rushing sound in Jesse’s head. “Late this morning…found Marie’s vehicle…tree fell on the driver’s side…”
Like a child, Jesse wanted to press his hands against his ears and shut out the truth.
Where are You, God? Are You even listening? How much more do You think one man can take?
The silent cry burst out of a place deep inside him.
Hadn’t he gone through enough?
“Marie must have been trying to outrun the tornado,” Colt continued softly. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Jesse. Sorry for you…and your girls.”
Jesse couldn’t answer. Couldn’t tell Colt the truth. Not yet. That his wife hadn’t been trying to outrun the tornado—she’d been running away. From him.
When the driving rain had forced him to abandon his chores the day before, he found Marie’s note on the kitchen table. Next to it, the simple gold wedding band and diamond engagement ring he gave her the night he proposed. An heirloom that had been in the Logan family for generations.
He’d had to read through his wife’s letter twice before the meaning sank in but the words had remained branded in his memory.
Jesse,
I have nothing left to give. If I stay on the ranch, I’ll never become the person I was meant to be. You were the one who wanted a family, so I’m leaving the babies with you. I’m going back to Kansas City and I’ll contact you when I’m settled.
Marie
The storm bending the trees outside hadn’t compared to the one raging inside of him.
Frantic, Jesse had immediately called the nurse’s station in the Manhattan hospital, where their premature triplets had been in the NICU for the past two months. The nurse had verified that Marie hadn’t shown up that afternoon to sit with the girls.
He braved the weather to drive to the hospital anyway, hoping that his wife had had a change of heart and gone there instead of the airport.
She hadn’t.
Jesse stayed with his daughters the rest of the evening, waiting for a phone call. It wasn’t until one of the nurses on duty had asked him if his ranch was located near High Plains that he learned about the tornadoes.
Unable to get through to his hired hands or his sister, Maya, Jesse spent a sleepless night in the family lounge and most of the morning waiting for the state police to remove the barricades from the roads.
When he was finally able to return to the ranch, Jesse had gone from room to room, calling Marie’s name. Praying that news of the storm would have fanned an ember of concern in her heart and brought her home. If not for him, then for Madison, Brooke and Sasha.
At the thought of his precious girls, Jesse was struck by an overwhelming desire to hold them again.
“I have to get back to the hospital.” He pushed past Colt.
“Jesse, wait. Don’t be stubborn.” Colt put a restraining hand on his arm. “You’re in no shape to go anywhere. Let me call someone for you.”
He immediately thought of his younger brother, Clay, but he shook the image away. Colt was right. He wasn’t thinking clearly.
His sister, Maya, should have been the one who came to mind first. Not Clay. Clay had shirked his responsibility to the ranch and the family years ago.
If his brother hadn’t even bothered to call when Maya had told him Jesse’s triplets were struggling for their lives in the NICU, what made him think Clay would be here for him now?
In that respect, Marie and Clay had been alike. Both of them ran away when things got hard. Jesse knew it was up to him to pick up the pieces. Alone. Again.
He swallowed hard against the lump lodged in his throat. “I’ll call Maya,” he managed to rasp.
“Jesse…” Colt frowned.
Don’t say it, Jesse thought. His self-control was hanging by a thread. He couldn’t think about his own grief though, he had to think about the three babies he’d left sleeping peacefully in their cribs only a few hours ago. He had to keep it together. For his daughters.
As if Colt could read his mind, he nodded slowly. “I understand. And don’t worry about the…arrangements right now, Jess. Take as much time as you need.”
The automatic doors parted as Jesse reached the front of the building. He’d spent so much time at the hospital over the past eight weeks that many of the staff knew him by name. Two volunteer auxiliary workers stopped talking and nodded solemnly when he passed the information desk.
He’d only taken a few steps down the corridor when a man stepped out of the cafeteria and intercepted him.
“Jesse.”
Jesse froze at the sound of the familiar voice, although he barely recognized his father-in-law. The deep lines in Philip Banner’s face and the haunted look in his eyes told Jesse he already knew about Marie’s death.
Instinctively, Jesse extended his hand to grasp his father-in-law’s, but the man stepped away, rebuffing the overture.
Jesse flinched. Philip had never bothered to hide his disapproval. As one of the state’s leading prosecutors, Marie’s father had had high hopes his only child would marry well. A cattle rancher from Kansas didn’t fit his model of the ideal son-in-law. Philip and Sharon had kept in close touch with their daughter after the wedding, but barely acknowledged Jesse’s existence.
Jesse had hoped his in-laws would soften when they found out they were going to be grandparents, but if anything, the news had made them more resentful. Instead of anticipating the girls’ arrival, Sharon seemed to blame Jesse for Marie’s difficult pregnancy.
“Have you seen the girls yet?” It occurred to Jesse that Philip and Sharon may have come to the hospital for the same reason he had. To hold the triplets and try to find some comfort in knowing that a part of Marie lived on in her daughters.
Philip ignored the question. “Sharon and I need your permission to take Marie…” His voice cracked and he looked away, as if it were difficult to look Jesse in the eye.
Jesse stared at the man, unable to comprehend what he was asking. And then the truth hit him. They hadn’t shown up out of concern for Jesse. Or his baby girls. His in-laws had been close by because they’d been part of Marie’s exit plan. They’d probably made arrangements to meet her at the airport—to lend their support in case Jesse followed—before escorting her back to Kansas City.
“You want to take her—” Jesse couldn’t say the word body “—back to Kansas City?”
“We have a family plot in the cemetery.” Philip’s expression changed and now bitterness scored the words. “Marie never belonged here with you. You know that. Last week she called and asked us if she could come home. It’s where she wanted to be. It’s where she should be now.”
Home.
Jesse had a flashback of the day the obstetrician told them the ultrasound revealed they were expecting triplets.
Jesse’s initial shock had quickly changed to delight. He’d always wanted a large family. When it came right down to it, what difference did it make whether there were years or minutes between the births of their children?
And if he were honest with himself, he’d hoped that starting a family would ease the tension growing between them.
During their courtship, Marie claimed she couldn’t wait to have children, but after the wedding she’d avoided the topic. Jesse hadn’t minded it being just the two of them for a while, but Marie’s reaction when she’d found out she was pregnant had disturbed him. Overwhelmed, she’d started to cry and begged him to take her home.
He’d thought she meant the ranch.
Now, seeing the anger and grief on his father-in-law’s face, Jesse was forced to admit the truth behind Philip’s claim: Marie had never considered the ranch her home.
Jesse had lost his wife long before the tornado struck.
The words stuck in his throat but he pushed them out. “I’ll talk to the director at the funeral home. The two of you can work out the arrangements.”
Philip nodded curtly, pivoted and walked away without a backward glance. No thank-you. No mention of his granddaughters.
The little energy Jesse had left drained away. On emotional autopilot, he took the elevator to the NICU. When he reached the nursery, he heard someone singing softly to the girls.
But it wasn’t his sister.
Sitting beside the crib where his daughters slept was Lori Martin, the young, auburn-haired nurse he’d met once or twice. Jesse hadn’t gotten to know her as well as he had the other nurses, because her shift ended before he arrived to sit with the girls every evening.
The soft smile on Lori’s face and the expression in her eyes made Jesse’s chest tighten.
It wasn’t right.
Marie should have been the one singing to them. Loving them. And yet she’d left them…all of them.
Jesse’s fists clenched at his sides.
Marie was gone, but he had three reasons to live: his daughters. And Jesse decided to make sure no one would hurt them again.
December
“You could have given Maya some hope.”
Jesse stiffened at the sound of Clay’s quiet voice behind him.
The memory of their sister’s stricken expression had seared Jesse’s conscience. He knew he’d been out of line, but the last thing he needed was his younger brother beating him up about it.
He’d been doing a pretty good job of that all by himself.
“Maya’s been worried sick since Tommy ran away,” Clay pointed out. “All she needed was to hear you say you’d find her son and bring him home.”
“I did say that.”
“‘I’ll bring him home either way, Maya.’” Clay’s voice deepened—an exaggerated imitation of Jesse’s low baritone—as he recited the words Jesse had spoken just before leaving the house. “In my opinion, you could have left two little words out of that promise.”
“I don’t remember asking for your opinion.” Jesse tightened the cinch on Saber’s saddle before leading the gelding from the stall. “Is it fair to give Maya false hope?”
“Now, are you asking my opinion?”
Jesse scowled. Since Clay’s unexpected return to High Plains a month ago, his brother claimed to have changed. Jesse didn’t believe it for a second. Not when Clay still managed to get to him like a burr under a saddle blanket.
“Maya needed encouragement. Would it have been so hard to give her some instead of being…Mr. Gloom and Doom?”
Jesse felt the sting of the insult. “You’re telling me what Maya needs?”
“I know I messed up by leaving.” Clay met his gaze. “But that’s all in the past now.”
“How convenient.”
Clay’s jaw tightened, the only outward sign that Jesse’s words had found their mark. “If I remember correctly, you were always the glass half-full guy in the family.”
That was before his glass got tipped over—and stepped on.
“I can’t tell Maya that Tommy’s all right if I don’t know it’s true.” Jesse wanted to believe they’d find Tommy safe and sound. The whole family—Jesse included—had embraced the precocious little boy. Even before Maya had married Gregory Garrison, and they’d started formal adoption proceedings, Tommy had become part of the family. As far as Jesse was concerned, signing the adoption papers was merely a formality. He’d been “Uncle Jesse” for months.
But he had to deal with facts, whether anyone else wanted to or not. And the facts—that Tommy was only six years old and had been missing for three days—didn’t exactly tip the balance in their favor.
When they’d discovered Tommy had run away, volunteer search parties formed immediately, to comb the area. Colt Ridgeway even arranged for a search-and-rescue dog to aid in the effort. But the ranch’s vast acreage—ordinarily a source of pride for Jesse—had worked against them.
After Tommy disappeared, Maya had taken a quick inventory and found that he’d taken some food, his coat and a backpack. The discovery had eased their minds—for the first twenty-four hours. But as resourceful as the little guy had proven to be, a coat wasn’t enough to ward off the December wind penetrating the sheepskin lining of Jesse’s jacket. And food eventually ran out….
Jesse decided to change the subject before he said something else he might regret. “Be sure to tell Nicki that I appreciate her willingness to watch the triplets again today, while I look for Tommy.”
“She knows.” There was a glint in Clay’s eyes. “And don’t you mean while we look for Tommy?”
Jesse stepped out of the barn and stopped short at the sight of Sundance, an ornery pinto mare, saddled up and ready to go. Her pinned ears let him know she wasn’t very happy about the situation.
He hesitated, tempted to change his plan in order to watch Sundance send his brother into orbit. Maybe another time. “You remember the lay of the land. It would make sense for you to take another group out.”
“It might,” Clay agreed. “But I’m going with you.”
“I’ll make better time by myself.”
A shadow crossed Clay’s face, but then he shrugged. “Even the Lone Ranger had Tonto.”
“And Edgar Bergen had Charlie McCarthy,” Jesse muttered.
“Do I need to remind you that I’m a grown man and ‘you’re not the boss of me’ anymore?”
Hearing the familiar quip made Jesse’s lips twitch. Clay had hurled those words at him frequently while growing up. There was a reason he’d wanted to break away from the rest of the search parties and go it alone. But for some reason, Jesse found himself giving in.
The gleam of laughter in his brother’s eyes brought back memories of a time when they’d actually been at ease in each other’s company. Before Clay dove into teenage rebellion and turned his back on everything Jesse believed in.
They’d come to an uneasy truce at Thanksgiving, when Clay asked if he could move back to the ranch. Jesse guessed the request had something to do with the lovesick look in his brother’s eye whenever his new fiancée, Nicki Appleton, came into view, but some things were hard to let go of. Clay had walked away from his birthright once before. What was to say he wouldn’t do it again?
As they passed the house, Jesse saw Maya step out onto the wide front porch. Regret sawed against his conscience again. Not because he’d spoken the truth but because it had hurt his sister.
“Give her some hope,” Clay had said.
How could Jesse explain that he and hope had parted company six months ago? If the road to hope led to disappointment, what was the point?
By the time they reached the gate, Maya was waiting for them.
Jesse had to force himself to look his sister in the eye. When he did, the light he saw shining there was a far cry from the worry that had darkened those eyes earlier.
“Michael just called.” Maya no longer referred to the minister of High Plains Community Church—her new husband’s cousin—by his formal title. “He and Heather Waters are organizing a candlelight prayer vigil for Tommy this evening. He said the people who can’t physically join in the search felt led to join together and pray. I know you and Clay are going to find him today, Jesse. I can feel it. God is going to show you the way.”
Jesse tried to hide his frustration. Maya’s faith had always been her North Star, pointing toward the truth. Not too long ago, his sister’s unwavering conviction would have challenged him. Strengthened him. But now the only thing her words stirred inside of Jesse were the ashes of what remained of his dreams.
“Keep believing, Maya.” Clay came up alongside her. He leaned over the saddle and pulled her into his arms, ruffling her hair as if she were Tommy’s age. “God knows exactly where Tommy is. And you’re right. We’re going to find him. By nine o’clock tonight you’ll be tucking him into bed.”
Jesse wanted to put a muzzle on his brother. How could Clay get Maya’s hopes up like that? Was he the only person in Kansas who was willing to face things the way they were, instead of the way he wanted them to be?
Maya aimed a grateful look at Clay and her smile came out in full force. For the first time in three days.
Jesse clicked his tongue and Saber agreeably stepped forward. The minute they passed through the gate, he nudged the gelding into a canter.
Unfortunately, Clay caught up to him before Jesse’s temper had time to cool. “Was that really necessary?”
Clay didn’t pretend to misunderstand him. “Yes.”
“You shouldn’t let her hope for the best.”
“And you shouldn’t let her imagine the worst,” Clay retorted.
Hadn’t they already had this conversation?
Jesse wondered if they’d ever see eye to eye on anything.
He tamped down his anger, bit his tongue and forced himself to focus on the reason he’d teamed up with Clay in the first place.
Tommy.
After the boy disappeared, the county sheriff had organized the search, dividing up Jesse’s property on a map and assigning each group of volunteers a certain section. Given Tommy’s age and size, they’d started close to the ranch house and gradually expanded the search to include the hills and grazing land.
The teams had met back at the ranch after a fruitless search earlier that morning, and when the sheriff instructed everyone to recheck the areas they’d already searched, a shiver of unease had skated through Jesse.
Staring down at the map, he had had an overwhelming urge to scrap the grid and go with his gut. And his gut told him not to waste time covering the same ground again.
He just hadn’t expected his brother to tag along.
They rode in silence until Jesse turned his horse down a worn cow path.
“Where are we going?”
“The river,” Jesse replied curtly.
To his surprise, his prodigal brother followed without a peep. Accustomed to Clay chafing every time Jesse took the lead, he found he couldn’t let that slide. “No argument? No ‘do you really think a kid Tommy’s age could have made it that far on his own’?”
“You did.”
Jesse twisted around in the saddle to stare at his brother.
“It’s a long shot,” Clay continued. “I mean, you went to the cave on horseback and Tommy is on foot.”
Jesse’s mouth dropped open. “Cave?”
“Oh, don’t look so surprised. It wasn’t much of a secret. I followed you there all the time.”
“You followed me.” Jesse couldn’t believe it. He’d been certain the secret hiding place he’d discovered had actually been a secret.
The ranch had been his playground as a child, and he’d explored every inch of it. And not always with his parents’ permission or his siblings’ knowledge, either. At least, he thought it had been without his siblings’ knowledge.
“Of course I did.” Clay’s shoulder lifted in a casual shrug. “But I knew you wanted to be alone, so I let you think you were.”
Wanted to be alone…
Bits and pieces of a conversation he’d had with Tommy suddenly trickled through Jesse’s memory like the beginning of a rock slide. And then it all came crashing back.
Thanksgiving Day, Tommy had complained that Layla, Maya’s three-year-old daughter, was always following him. In the name of male bonding, Jesse had sympathized and told Tommy that his irritation was perfectly normal. He confided that as a boy he also had times when he needed to get away from his younger sister and brother.
“Did you go to your room and lock the door?” Tommy had asked.
Jesse had laughed at the question. He and Clay had always shared a bedroom, so there’d been no privacy there.
That’s when he mentioned his favorite “thinking spot” had been a secret cave, its location marked by a strange U-shaped tree whose roots formed the ceiling of the hideaway.
Jesse’s mouth suddenly felt as dry as dust. What he’d failed to mention to Tommy was that the last time he’d checked the cave—about five years ago—it had collapsed.
“Jesse? What’s wrong?”
Instead of answering, Jesse urged Saber down the hill.
“I really appreciate you helping out at the last minute, Lori.”
“I’m glad you called.” Lori Martin flashed a quick smile in Nicki Appleton’s direction as she peeled off her coat and hung it on a colorful, rainbow-shaped wall peg. “I worked today and missed the e-mail about the prayer vigil.”
“Reverend Garrison pulled it together pretty quickly, but when I offered to oversee the nursery tonight, I had no idea there’d be such a large turnout.” Nicki smiled and blew a wisp of curly blond hair out of her eyes. “I definitely have my hands full in here. I’ll give you a choice, though, since you came to my rescue tonight. Do you want to give the triplets their bottles or play demolition derby with the boys over there in the corner?”
The triplets.
Instinctively Lori moved toward the three infant seats arranged in a semicircle on the floor where Nicki sat. Sure enough, there were the Logan girls, a trio of adorable little blossoms dressed in various shades of pink.
She hadn’t seen them since October, when she’d volunteered to take a turn in the nursery during the morning worship service. She’d been thrilled at how much the girls had changed—but a little taken aback that the strong connection she’d felt for them hadn’t.
As a nurse who provided specialized care for premature infants, Lori walked a fine line between providing the best care possible while not letting herself get too emotionally attached. But from the moment she’d witnessed those tiny girls in the incubator, she’d fallen in love.
Maybe it was because Marie Logan, the babies’ mother, had spent more time sipping coffee and flipping through magazines in the family lounge than she had sitting next to her daughters’ cribs.
Lori tried to be understanding. It was never easy for a new mother to be released from the hospital and have to leave her children behind. But right from the beginning, Marie seemed to be consumed with her own needs rather than the needs of her daughters. She treated the nursing staff as if they were her personal servants, and her constant criticism frequently brought the aides to tears.
At the end of one particularly stressful morning, Lori took Marie aside and asked if she could pray with her. Marie’s bitter response chilled her.
“The reason I’m here is because God is punishing me for my mistakes. It’s not like He’s going to listen to anything I have to say.”
Before Lori had a chance to convince Marie that wasn’t true, the woman had fled from the room. Several days later, Marie’s body was recovered in the wreckage from the tornado.
Rumors flew around the pediatric ward that Marie had left her husband and the babies shortly before the tornado struck High Plains. Lori didn’t want to believe it, but the day Jesse Logan had arrived to take the triplets home, she’d seen the truth etched in the deep lines fanning out from his eyes.
Midnight-blue eyes that were a perfect match to the ones staring solemnly up at her.
“I’ll feed the triplets.” Lori reached for Sasha and was rewarded with a beautiful heart-melting baby grin.
Only three and a half pounds at birth, Sasha had been the smallest of the trio. She’d also fought the hardest to survive.
By the time Sasha left the hospital—a full week after her two sisters—she’d stolen the hearts of the entire nursing staff.
“Are you sure?” Nicki raised a teasing brow. “They remind me of a nest of baby birds who all want their dinner at the same time.”
“I help, too.” A bright-eyed, pajama-clad toddler drifted over and hugged Nicki’s arm.
“That’s the truth.” Nicki gave her foster daughter an affectionate squeeze. “Kasey has been a big help with the babies over the past few days.”
Lori grinned as Sasha latched on to the bottle with both hands, as if she hadn’t eaten for days. “When did you start taking care of the Logans?”
“It’s not permanent. I’ve been helping out with the girls while Clay and Jesse look for Tommy Jacobs.” Nicki’s expression clouded. “That’s why they organized the prayer vigil tonight. He’s been missing for three days and…it’s taking a toll on the family.”
Lori imagined that was an understatement. She’d heard about Tommy through the prayer chain at High Plains Community and wasn’t surprised to learn that Maya’s older brothers had taken an active role in looking for their nephew. Or that the entire congregation had reached out to the family.
“I don’t mind helping Jesse out when he needs a sitter now and then, but between Kasey and my job at the preschool, I have my hands full,” Nicki continued. “I’m not sure who is going to take over and be Nanny Number Six.”
Lori’s attention, which had been irresistibly drawn to Sasha’s tiny fingers, snapped back to Nicki.
Number six?
“Are you saying that Jesse Logan has gone through five nannies?”
“In five months.” Nicki nodded. “That has to be some kind of record.”
Lori silently agreed. And she couldn’t believe the five nannies had all been at fault. Anyone taking on the enormous responsibility of caring for triplets—and premature ones at that—would accept the job with a clear understanding of the challenges they would face.
What had happened?
A sudden image of the handsome but stern-faced rancher flashed in Lori’s mind. She couldn’t imagine Jesse being an easy man to work for.
“The last nanny Jesse fired had only been at the ranch for forty-eight hours,” Nicki continued. “She put in an application at the preschool where I teach, but was embarrassed to tell the director why Jesse had let her go. Apparently, he had a problem with the bedtime songs she sang to the triplets.”