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Authors: Laura Marie Altom

A Baby in His Stocking (11 page)

BOOK: A Baby in His Stocking
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“We will,” Josie promised. “Real soon.”

Her friend's posture and weak voice told Natalie no matter how badly Josie might crave being around her girls, she wasn't well enough to handle them all at once.

Josie asked, “C-could you please bring in Mabel? And Esther?”

“Come on, squirts.” Wyatt stepped forward to take the twins by their hands. “Let's see what good stuff Grandma has in her purse.”

“Love you,” Bonnie said to Josie. “Please get better.”

“Yeah,” Betsy said.

“I will.” Josie blew them a kiss.

Sadly, Dallas didn't wake for his daughters' visit and Josie's energy wilted like a cut flower left too long in the sun.

Wyatt and Natalie and the girls took Georgina and Daisy to lunch. The two women appeared exhausted. Not wishing to discuss any topics too heavy in front of the children, they strove for a cheerful holiday vibe, but the twins were smart. They may have wondered about their parents before, but they now knew whatever was going on was serious.

The ride home seemed never-ending, and once there, the twins retreated to their room. Natalie wasn't a big fan of parking small kids in front of a TV, but as she was emotionally spent, she cuddled on her bed with Mabel and Esther. The Disney Channel provided entertainment.

“This a private party?” Wyatt asked, peering in from the hall.

Natalie patted the empty space next to her. “The more the merrier.”

After tugging off his cowboy boots and socks, he joined them. “Been a helluva day, hasn't it?”

She nodded. “Not sure what I expected, but what we saw seems worse.”

“I know what you mean.” He bunched a pillow beneath his head. “I'm used to Dallas being a barking, bossy pain in my you-know-what. When he couldn't wake even to—” Voice cracking, he pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes.

Natalie cradled him to her chest, kissing the top of his head, smoothing his hair. For Wyatt to show this level of vulnerability was beyond uncharacteristic into the realm of heartbreaking.

“Uncle Wyatt, cookie?” Mabel asked.

“No, honey,” Natalie said to the girl, stroking, stroking Wyatt's hair. “He doesn't need cookies, just lots of hugs.”

Mabel lunged at Wyatt. Even though her chubby arms didn't reach all the way around, her intent was clear. And Natalie, too, succumbed to the emotion of the day. As close as she'd grown to these children—and this man—how was she supposed to first say goodbye to him, then walk away from these beautiful girls when Dallas and Josie did return home? Make no mistake, no one would be more thrilled than Natalie for her dear friend to resume her former life, but how would Natalie deal with the transition from having a family to none? When it was just her and her son, would that family feeling be the same?

“Can I ask you a favor?”

“Sure,” Wyatt said. Mabel still clung to his neck.

“I know you have an early flight Monday, but please don't leave without saying goodbye.”

Chapter Ten

Four o'clock Monday morning, Wyatt had just emerged from the shower to run a towel over his chest when Esther cried.

He tossed the towel around his neck, stepped into a pair of boxers, then jogged down the hall to take her from her crib. Natalie usually tackled her late-night feedings, but that was around two. He checked her diaper. Loaded.

“Just had to leave me a present before I left, huh?”

In the glow of her Winnie-the-Pooh night-light, Esther cooed on the changing table.

“Wanna know a secret?” he whispered past the knot in his throat. Now an expert with diapers, he unsnapped her onesie and just as efficiently disposed of her dirty diaper and cleaned her mess. “I like to pretend I don't like you—would never want a baby like you for my own—but I'd be lying.”

With her lotioned and powdered, he tugged her pj's back down, snapping them snug.

Cradling her, he headed into the adjoining bathroom to wash his hands, then sat in the nursery rocker. “I'm leaving, you know? Before your mom and dad's accident, I thought I knew what I wanted—to run as far
from here as I could possibly get. Now, I'm not so sure. I mean, I think I am, but then I see Nat holding you, or playing with Mabel or the twins and I freak. She's beautiful. Not like a model, or that tall Russian I dated last Christmas, but different. This is going to sound crazy, but sometimes I get the feeling her serenity is contagious. It makes me want to emulate her—which is really nutso, because I'm not a nurturing, serene kind of guy.”

He took a sideways peek at Esther to find she'd fallen asleep with her thumb in her mouth.

“This a sign I've lost my touch with the ladies?” he teased.

After gently returning her to her crib, for the longest time he stared at the way moonlight kissed her chubby cheeks. Since helping care for Dallas and Josie's crew, he'd stopped dwelling on what he could never have to instead realize what he did. Being a fantastic uncle wouldn't kill him. Instead, he'd have the best of both the family and bachelor worlds. Only, the more he was around Natalie, the more he wondered if maybe his old dating days were no longer for him, either.

The clock was ticking.

He needed to finish packing. Make sure he had his passport and entry visa and a dozen other international travel necessities. He needed to shave and dress and confirm his flight. He needed to do all of that and more, but what did he do? Sit back down in the nursery rocker and watch moonlight fade to sun.

 

“W
YATT
?” D
RESSED IN HER
nightgown, thick socks and a cap of wild hair, Natalie didn't trust her eyes. “You should be in Dallas by now.”

“Yep.”

“So why aren't you?” Almost afraid of his answer, she turned her back on him, instead focusing on Esther.

“Couldn't do it. Didn't feel right.”

“But
why?
” Facing him, she prayed he couldn't see the relief in her eyes. The moment she'd placed her feet on the floor from the bed, she'd fought a lead weight pressing on her chest. Dread. Regret—for things she had said and hadn't. On some levels, they barely knew each other. On others, she'd always known him. He was as much a part of her as Weed Gulch itself. “I—I hope not because you think I can't cope, because I can. I just—”

Before she could finish her thought, he was on his feet, kissing her. And she let him. Oh, she let him. They kissed and kissed until Esther whimpered and grunted and— “Look!”

Right under their noses, Esther had turned herself over. Judging by her smile, was quite proud of her accomplishment.

“Holy crap,” Wyatt said, tickling her tummy. “We have a prodigy on our hands.”

Just like that, the questions she had for him were put to the back burner in favor of Esther's amazing skills. If it was this exciting watching her best friend's baby reach a milestone, how fun would it be oohing and aahing over her own?

How sad was it Wyatt would never have that chance?

 

T
HURSDAY NIGHT AT THE
twins' school Christmas program, Wyatt asked Natalie, “Was it wrong for me to have strong-armed a granny to get these seats?”

“I'd have done the same.” With Esther in her carrier, Natalie aimed her camera at the stage. The auditorium had been decorated top to bottom in red and
green construction paper cutouts. Stars and reindeer and candy canes had been mangled together to form a backdrop. Before his stint as a temporary dad, Wyatt would've thought it ridiculous. Now that he knew just how much work kids like his nieces had put into the decor, he appreciated it for the fine art it was. He could only imagine how proud Dallas and Josie must be attending an event like this.

Mabel stood on his thighs, the heels of her tiny black patent dress shoes digging in. She was excited about seeing her “sissies” perform, which in her behavior manifested in much jumping and humming and lots of slobbery cheek kissing. “I
wuv
Unk Wy-att!”

He kissed her right back. “Love you, too, cutie.”

“Mabel,” Natalie said, “did you see the whole table filled with cookies we get to eat after the show?”

“Cookie! Cookie!” Jump, jump. Wyatt winced through the toddler's latest squeals.

The show began, and along with it, more emotional conflict than Wyatt was prepared to handle. All the kids were cute, but Bonnie and Betsy were off the charts. Through song after song, his mind drifted to the possibilities that would never be his. He would never sit in an audience, chest swelled with pride like the hundreds of parents around him. Odds were, he'd never even marry.

Surrounded by families and holiday cheer, he didn't just feel alone, but adrift.

Lord willing, he had fifty or so years left of life, but what would that time be filled with? Work? Meaningless hookups? Being the third wheel at every Buckhorn event? In giving up his Ethiopian gig, he'd been so sure he was making the right decision. Now, he wasn't.

Eyes stinging, he was glad for the dark. Glad for the
distraction of children singing over the growing sadness in his soul.

Natalie leaned close, whispering in his ear, “You okay?”

He nodded.

Hell no, he wasn't anywhere near okay. But his problems were his own, and not for Natalie's consumption.

By the time the show ended and the cookie and punch reception began, Wyatt pulled himself together. Tried focusing on the downside of kids. They were noisy and sticky and ran around screaming like atoms—not that he even knew if an atom made noise, but if it did, it had to be akin to hyper munchkins. So even knowing all of that, why was he still dissatisfied? As if everyone had been invited to join an exclusive club but him?

“All right,” Natalie parked in front of him with a plastic cup of punch in one hand and a cookie in her other, “out with it. Why are you scowling? I'm sure there are a few hot single moms you could be hitting on.”

A month earlier, Wyatt might've been tempted to cash in on that offer, but oddly enough, the only woman he was even remotely attracted to was Natalie. He'd grown fond of being around her. After their hospital visit Saturday, she'd remained strong while he'd been the one falling apart.

“Don't quote me on this,” he said, striving for a teasing tone, “but I'm kind of crushing on you.”

“Liar.” Munching her cookie, she added, “You're just saying that to get out of giving Mabel her bath.”

The little devil in question stood alongside her sisters, face wreathed in chocolate and red icing.

“You got me.” Wyatt clutched his chest, glad for
the opportunity she'd unwittingly handed him to make light of his comment. What would she have said had she believed him? Might she have kissed him right here in front of God and all of Weed Gulch? “Where's Esther?”

Natalie nodded toward her friend Cami. The school secretary jiggled the grinning baby for a circle of cooing teachers. “She's a hot commodity.”

“Excited for the day you're showing off your son?”

“Funny…” She finished her punch. “I haven't thought that far ahead. Right now, the logistics have me stymied.”

“Like what? Anything I can do to help?”

“If you have a hankering to learn Lamaze. Or assemble the nursery furniture I have yet to buy. Or shop for diapers and onesies and—”

“Whoa.” Hands on her shoulders, Wyatt gave her a comforting squeeze. “You still have a few months till the baby gets here, right?”

She nodded.

“All right, well, surely to God Josie will be home by then, and if she's not, your friend Cami would probably tackle Lamaze. As for the rest of it, just like the family has done for Christmas gifts—shop online. Once the stuff gets here, we can assemble after the kids are in bed.”

“You'd do that for me?”

I'd do anything for you.
The moment the thought popped in Wyatt's head, he knew to back off. That is, his head knew. As for his pulse… It raced full speed ahead.

 

“T
HANK YOU
.” I
MMEDIATELY
after opening her latest gift—a classroom decorating book from Natalie—Josie
yawned. Still on morphine, it was plainly a struggle for her to remain awake.

“Dallas,” Natalie said with forced Christmas cheer, “you're next.” He nodded. Whereas Josie's head trauma issues had lessened to headaches, Dallas still had serious obstacles. His doctor said he'd make a full recovery, but for now, in addition to other problems, his speech was slurred. Dallas being Dallas, this frustrated him, which only exacerbated the situation and made him grumpy.

Georgina hustled to his side, helping him open a new fishing rod.

“Just had my lake stocked,” Luke said. “By spring, I'll expect you to be out there with me.”

Though the patients had been moved to a more homey long-term care facility, the fact remained that they were still celebrating Christmas in a sterile environment rather than at home. The tree Daisy had assembled was a crooked fake and because of Dallas's sensitivity to light, the only decorations were a few country-themed ornaments.

“I don't like it here,” Bonnie announced midway through the next round of gifts. “It smells funny.”

“Hush!” Georgina admonished. “With all your parents have been through, the last thing they need is to hear you complaining.”

The girl's lower lip trembled in advance of full-blown tears. To her grandmother, she shouted, “You're mean!”

When Bonnie left the room, Betsy and Natalie followed.

“Hey,” Natalie said, finally catching up with the runaway midway down the hall. Squeezing her in a hug, she barely held off her own waterworks. “Sweet
heart, I know this is hard, but as much as you miss your mom and dad, they miss you. Seeing you helps them feel better.”

“D-Daddy's weird,” Betsy said, “and Mommy's always sleeping. And it
does
smell funny in there.”

“I know.” Natalie hugged them both. “But I promise everything will go back to normal soon. Your mom and dad and grandma will come home. Uncle Wyatt and I will go back to our own houses. Shoot, I'll bet by Valentine's Day, you'll forget any of this even happened.”

“Really?” Bonnie asked, gazing up at Natalie through her big, blue eyes.

Nodding, Natalie said, “And until then, I need you to help with the little kids.”

“I'll help,” Betsy said.

“Me, too.” Wyatt startled Natalie by joining their group hug. “It's going to take a lot of work to get Mabel to stop eating Play-Doh.”

Bonnie giggled and sniffled. “She doesn't do that anymore.”

“Does, too,” Betsy said. “Kitty does, too. Then his poop's all blue and pink.”

“Mmm, delightful.” Natalie forced a smile. That answered her questions about the funky litter box contents.

“Quite a family we've got here, huh?” Natalie knew Wyatt had meant his words as a joke, but the knot in her throat told a different story. That, yes, in only a month, they had formed a family. Loud and messy and far from perfect, but a family all the same.

 

B
ARE FEET PROPPED ON THE
coffee table, Wyatt asked Natalie, “Am I a bad person for feeling grateful Christmas is almost over?”

She laughed. “I was just thinking the same, so guess we'll be bad together.”

“I like the sound of that.” With a playful growl, he tugged her closer to his spot on the sofa. Aside from dancing firelight, the tree's colorful glow provided the room's only other illumination. There was no music. No TV. No crying or fighting kids. The pine tree's fresh scent provided a welcome change from the stuffy hospital. “You look pretty.”

“You need glasses.”

“Don't,” he said, tucking flyaway hair behind her ears.

“What?”

“Berate yourself. You're a beautiful woman.” Not trusting himself to behave, he satisfied his craving to kiss her with a chaste peck to her forehead.

“Thank you.” Looking down, then up, she said, “Gotta say, you're kind of a beautiful man.”

“I usually strive for handsome, but after the day we've had,” he teased, “I'll take what I can get.”

After an eye roll, she rested her head against his shoulder. He liked having her lean on him for support.

“Ooh.”
She clutched her belly.

“Baby kick?”

“Apparently, he's not happy with what Santa brought for Christmas.” Wincing, she said, “There he goes again.”

Easing off the sofa and onto his knees in front of her, he lifted her red sweater only to encounter a white tank. He slid that up and the waistband of her maternity jeans down. When Wyatt bracketed her baby, kissing the spot where the little guy again visibly moved, he heard Natalie's swift intake of breath.

Not sure if that was good or bad, he kissed her again. And again. And then clothes got in his way.

BOOK: A Baby in His Stocking
6.67Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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