A Baby in His Stocking (7 page)

“Princesses are dumb.” Kolt turned to Wyatt. “Come on, let's get wood.”

Natalie asked, “How long until it gets cold upstairs? Think we should take the babies from the nursery?”

“Check on them,” Wyatt said, “but the house is well-insulated. They've got plenty of blankets, so they should be fine till morning. If the power's still off by then, we'll make pallets nearer the fire.”

She nodded.

The more candles Natalie lit, the more the home looked pretty as opposed to spooky. Beyond the great room's towering windows, the storm blew. But inside, all was calm. Except for her runaway pulse. How much longer was she destined to be stranded with Wyatt?

 

A
LONG WITH MORNING
,
FOR
W
YATT
, came the realization that not only was it still snowing, but the power was still out and his back hurt like hell from crashing on the floor while the Terror Twins were snug on the couch. Even worse, Kitty had camped out on his chest and Natalie looked seriously hot with sleep-mussed hair, cradling snoring Prissy in her arms.

Blaming the observation on cabin fever, he rolled away from her only to face Kolt.

“Let's have a snowball fight,” the kid suggested, seemingly oblivious to the fact that they'd had about two hours' rest.

Wyatt groaned. “Love to, kid, but with the power still out, we've got man chores.”

“Like what?” Kolt wriggled from his sleeping bag with his video game in hand. Had he held it through the night like a preteen teddy bear? “Because after we have a snowball fight, we can build a fort. Then we can fight in the fort. It's gonna be awesome!”

“Slow down.” Edging upright, Wyatt eyed Natalie, who'd taken the other couch. She'd offered it to him, but what kind of jackass would he be to have made a pregnant woman sleep on the floor? “We've got to build up the fire, then check the horses and other animals. We're going to need to hook the plow to the truck, so we can make it up to your house, too. Not only do we need to check your horses, but make sure no pipes froze last night.”

“Stop,” Natalie said in a raspy tone that did little to help Wyatt's already frustrated condition. “You're making me want to hide under the covers.”

From the baby monitor she'd placed on the coffee table came fitful cries.

Natalie said, “Esther's going to be none too pleased to find she's dining on formula this morning instead of her usual fare.”

“Does that mean we're out of boob milk?” Kolt looked genuinely distraught.

“Afraid so.” Natalie pushed back her covers and emerged wearing comfy gray sweatpants and a matching University of Tulsa hoodie.

Kolt asked, “Can't you make her more from your boobs?”

Lips pressed tight, Wyatt had never wished more for a sudden heat wave to melt the snow, allowing for a quick escape.

“That's a great question,” Natalie said, disgustingly patient for barely 7:00 a.m., “but mothers are only able to make breast milk when they have babies.”

“But my mom said you have a baby inside you,” Kolt persisted.

“True,” she said, “but my body won't make milk until the baby is born.”

“Oh.” Wyatt's nephew took a few seconds to let this sink in before digging in his sleeping bag to pull out his socks. “Can we hurry with the man stuff, because I really want to play.”

“Me, too.” Wyatt ruffled the kid's hair, then stoked the hearth's glowing coals before adding more logs and coaxing a flame.

Natalie had gone upstairs and now descended with Esther in her arms. Even huffing from tears, his niece was a beauty. As was the woman carrying her. Wyatt didn't have to be friends with a woman to admit she possessed positive assets.

While Kolt ran off to find snow gear, Wyatt said, “I've gotta give you props for the way you handled Kolt's question.”

“Thanks.” Cradling the baby, Natalie's bewildered expression made him think she'd been caught off guard by his compliment. “But in my line of work, I've had some doozies. That one was pretty tame.”

Sitting in front of the fire, storing up heat for his trek to the barn, Wyatt said, “I'm sorry for last night. What I said about you promising the girls Dallas and Josie are going to be all right. Guess the way things have gone for me lately, I've gotten used to expecting the worst.”

“In one respect, you have good reason.” Natalie nuzzled Esther's downy hair. “But as soon as this storm clears, we'll get word that Josie and Dallas are fine. Then you'll be off on your adventure. When you get back, you've got a great family and job and home. Tons of friends.”

All of which Wyatt was thankful for. But it still stung that he'd never have more. Best as he could tell, the holy grail of his family—hell, the whole state—
was getting married and starting a family. Being stuck with his nieces and nephew proved he wasn't even capable of being a good father, which should've made his condition easier to bear. At the height of the previous night's screaming fiasco, he'd have been thrilled to never see another kid again. But morning had a way of washing away the strongest resolve. The brush of Esther's long lashes against her cheeks brought on that old familiar yearning for something he'd never have.

“You all right?” Natalie stood close enough for him to reach out and take the baby from her, but he didn't. Couldn't. For him, holding a child was akin to an alcoholic holding a drink. Pointless. Why, for even a moment, grow enamored with something he could never have?

“How are you gonna feed your baby, Miss Natalie, when you're not very good at feeding ours?” Bonnie had always had a knack for cutting to the heart of any matter and this time was no different.

“Yeah,” Betsy said.

“How about you two help?” Natalie sat on the sofa nearest the fire attempting to bottle-feed Esther while spooning pureed blueberries into Callie's clamped mouth. Mabel and Robin happily fed themselves Cheerios, but not without making a mess.

She would have never considered feeding children in the elegant Buckhorn living room, but since the temperature in the kitchen felt perilously low, there had been no other option. She had at least placed trash bags over the handwoven rug.

“I want the baby.” Bonnie held out her hands, pinching her Pop-Tarts-sticky fingers. “You're not
sanitorily,
” Betsy said. “You feed Callie.”

“She's gross.” Bonnie made a face. “Look at her. She's like a purple monster baby.”

“That's mean! I'm telling Aunt Daisy you called her baby ugly!”

“Did not! And anyway, she
is
all covered in purple stuff!”

“Ladies…” Natalie had forgotten just how
delightful
the twins could be. “Please, let's just get all of the little ones fed as quickly and quietly as possible.”

Oh, from then on out, the twins were quiet, they just continued to torment each other by sticking out their tongues and making faces.

Finally, Esther had eaten her fill and drifted off to sleep in her blanket-topped carrier.

As for Mabel, Callie and Robin, Natalie wasn't sure how to tell when they were full. Taking an educated guess that when there was more throwing and playing with food than eating that they were done, she launched the long cleanup process.

“Girls,” she said to the twins, “while I'm picking cereal off of the floor, I need you to put on your coats, then go upstairs to bring down lots of baby toys. We're going to move the furniture to make a giant playpen.”

“Can we play in it, too?” Bonnie asked.

“Sure. We'll need all of the diaper supplies, too.”

Betsy said, “Bonnie doesn't like the way poop diapers smell.”

“Thank you.” Natalie took a deep breath, vowing to keep her cool. “We won't need dirty diapers. Just the clean ones.”

The back door opened and closed. “Hello?”

The twins ran over. “Uncle Cash!”

Wyatt and Kolt entered behind him.

“Hey, squirts.” After removing his boots, Cash gave both girls hugs. “How are you holding up, Nat?”

“I'm good. How are Josie and Dallas?”

“Kids,” Wyatt said, “how about getting on your
snow gear and making sure the horses' water isn't frozen.”

“Didn't we just do that?” Kolt said.

“With it this cold,” Cash said, removing his heavy coat and gloves, “we can't be too careful.”

Once the big kids were out of earshot, Natalie asked, “What's going on? Are Josie and Dallas worse?”

Cash rubbed his whisker-stubbled jaw. “Let's just say there's not been as much improvement as their doctors would like. Josie's drifting in and out of consciousness and Dallas is facing possible surgery. Daisy and Luke are staying with Mom. The E.R. has been swamped, so Wren stayed, too. But we all figured Wyatt would need a hand with the animals.”

Hand over her mouth, Natalie mumbled, “I'm going to be sick.” She ran to the powder room, kneeling in front of the commode.

Cash started to follow, but Wyatt stopped him. “Let me handle her.”

“She doesn't need
handling,
bro, but understanding.”

Wyatt shot his little brother his dirtiest look. “Give me some credit.”

Cash shrugged. “Just sayin'. Where's my girl?”

Wyatt nodded toward the living room where Natalie and the twins had assembled a massive playpen.

From down the hall came sounds of Natalie alternately crying and being sick. Taking pity on her, Wyatt went to the bathroom, bringing along the flashlight to erase the dark.

After running one of Georgina's designer tea towels beneath cold water, Wyatt fell to his knees beside Natalie, holding the cloth to her forehead. “I—I know you'd
rather have Josie, or one of your other girlfriends in here, but I'm afraid I'm all you've got.”

Trembling, she sat on her heels.

He flushed the toilet, then freshened the cloth to wipe her face. Once he'd wiped away her tears, he sat behind her, spreading his legs to draw her against his chest. Neither of them had had a good night's rest and exhaustion couldn't be good for her or her baby.

“That's it,” he murmured, stroking her long hair. “You're going to be okay. So is everyone we love.”

“What if they're not?” Her voice sounded small and defeated. He liked her better loud and argumentative. This crying shell wasn't his Natalie. They'd shared a connection since grade school and now, because of Esther, they always would. No matter how much they'd lately seemed to be getting on each other's nerves, he'd always carry a soft spot for her. “Cash made it sound like they were both at death's door.”

Wyatt snorted. “We both know Cash is a drama queen.”

She laughed, and the sound stirred something deep within him. He'd done that—given her comfort. That fact made him feel, if only for an instant, better about the crap storm fate had made of their lives.

“You going to be okay?”

She rested her head against his chest and he felt her nod. He'd been a lot of things in his day, but a knight had never been one of them. He wouldn't make an ass of himself by assuming anything had changed. He'd have comforted anyone in Natalie's situation.

 

T
HE
W
EED
G
ULCH FEED STORE
was never open on Sundays, but due to the snow, too much grazing land was covered for ranchers to not rely on supplemental grain.

Many pole barns in the area had collapsed, trapping stored hay bales beneath them.

The small-town grapevine had got the word out that from noon to however long there was a need, the store owners would be there to help.

Wyatt stood with Cash in the checkout line. It felt good to be out of the house and get a change of scenery—even if at the moment that only meant whitewashed concrete block walls.

“Aren't you s'posed to leave tomorrow?” Cash asked, munching on the free popcorn always on hand. The buttery scent made Wyatt's stomach growl.

“Yep.” They moved ahead in the ten-deep line.

“Still going?”

“Haven't decided,” he admitted. On the one hand, if he abandoned his family when they'd never needed him more, he'd be the world's biggest jerk. On the other, he needed this trip. Bad. Being charged with the full-time care of his nieces and Kolt had called Wyatt's bluff. On Thanksgiving, the Buckhorn clan had been so rowdy he'd convinced himself he was glad he couldn't have kids. Yet now, only a couple days into the job of being a temporary parent, he'd already seen glimpses of how amazing being a true father must be.

“You okay?” Cash asked. “If I didn't know better, I'd say you look hungover. But even you wouldn't have tied one on while caring for seven kids.”

“Why do you say that?” Wyatt asked under his breath. “
Even me?
Like I'm some irresponsible ogre. I've taken good care of those kids.”

“Whoa.” Cash held up his hands. “No one said you didn't. But by your own admission, you're not exactly the family-man type. If you were, instead of chasing
off to the end of the world, you'd stick around here and find yourself a good woman.”

Hand to his forehead, Wyatt prayed for calm. As much as he hated to admit it, Natalie had been right. If he did come clean with everyone he loved about the fact that he might one day marry, but would never increase the size of their clan, maybe they'd once and for all stop with the not-so-subtle hints for him to settle down.

“Just saying.” Cash moved up in line. “I don't know jack about oil, maybe it's giving you everything you need to keep you warm at night, but now that I have Wren and—”

“Dear Lord,” Wyatt said, “don't you ever shut up?”

Cash stayed quiet just long enough for a fresh bite of popcorn. “One last thing—if you do leave tomorrow, how are you going to live with yourself? You know no matter when or where, every last one of us would be there for you. Well now, we need you a helluva lot more than that bigwig oil company you're leaving us for.”

 

“W
HAT SHOULD
I
DO
?” Wyatt was on his second trip to town that day—this time to get Mabel cough syrup. Cash had volunteered to stay with the kids, giving Natalie a chance to grab more clothes and toiletries. Weed Gulch proper looked worn-out. Christmas decorations that'd been perfectly hung on the historic redbrick Main Street buildings after Thanksgiving had been battered by strong winds. They now hung limp and defeated alongside dirty tinsel stars. Snow had been plowed into great mounds that occupied most available parking space. With temperatures in single digits and expected to stay that way, the road was still a nearly
impassable mess. “You know, about my trip. My flight to Dallas leaves at six a.m.”

“What do you want to do?” Natalie asked.

“Please don't,” he said with a sigh when stopped for one of the town's three traffic lights. “I don't need counseling techniques, turning my questions back on me, but the genuine advice of a friend. I know we've spent more time lately snipping at each other than truly communicating, but Nat, I do consider you the only person I can trust when it comes to…you know.”

She took the full length of the light before answering. “God's honest truth—I want you to reschedule your trip. I'm freaked out enough about having my own baby, let alone caring for Josie's whole brood. When you agreed to be Esther's godfather, you promised to care for her in the event Dallas couldn't. Do you really want to be the kind of guy who reneges on a sacred vow?”

Wyatt winced. “Whew. I should've asked for only half your opinion.”

Lips pursed, she shrugged. “You wanted the truth…”

“Yeah.”

Just like he knew he needed to make a tough call to the friends he was supposed to meet up with in London.

 

“A
LL
I
CAN SAY IS THANK
goodness Georgina prefers natural gas appliances.” Two days later, the temperature had climbed to the sunny forties, steadily melting the snow and making the whole world sound as if it were dripping, but the power was still out. Natalie stood at the stove making fried eggs and bacon for Wyatt and Cash, who were about to start their daily
rounds of checking the animals. In the oven, biscuits were almost done.

Dallas and Josie were making such good progress that Luke was heading home to help with the ranch. Daisy and Georgina had gotten a hotel room near the hospital.

Because school had been out due to the snow, Natalie's job hadn't been an issue, but she had a feeling once classes were back in session, she'd need to have a talk with her principal about taking more time to be with Esther and Mabel.

“No kidding,” Wyatt said. “Cash, how many times have we all said we need a generator for the house? Hell, the horse barn is warmer than it is in here.”

At only six in the morning, all of the kids were still sleeping. The living room looked more like a bunkhouse than Georgina's usual elegant Western-themed showplace.

Cash said, “Ran into Jimmy Middleton at the feed store yesterday. He works for AEP/PSO. With any luck, we should have power in a day or two.”

“That's too long,” Natalie said, flipping Wyatt's eggs. She'd learned he liked them over easy with just a hint of a runny yolk. The heat from the oven and stove had warmed the kitchen to a bearable level, but stray too far from the living room fire and the rest of the house was frigid. The hot water heater was gas, but had an electronic ignition. Same with the central heat. Thank heavens the stove could be lit with a match.

Wyatt hovered behind her. “Looks good. I'm hungry.” As usual, his nearness was disconcerting, but since his kindness during her meltdown, even more so. She'd expected him to act resentful about changing his travel plans, but if anything, he seemed strangely
relaxed. Almost as if now that his decision had been made, he was at peace with it.

From her nest near the fire, Esther let loose with a few pitiful wails.

Natalie said, “If one of you watch the eggs, I'll get the baby.”

“I'll get her.” Before she could object, Wyatt was already on his way.

“What's got him in such a good mood?” she asked his brother.

“Not sure,” Cash admitted, “but it's making me suspicious.”

“Got a full diaper,” Wyatt said, holding Esther at a safe distance.

Cash asked, “Know much about changing diapers?”

“What do you think?” Wyatt passed Esther to his little brother. “But if you take this one, I'll watch, then tackle the next.”

“Sounds doable.” The two men headed to the makeshift living room changing station.

Listening to the easy banter between the brothers made Natalie ache for poor Wyatt. Cash prattled on about how once Wyatt had his own kids, he'd get the hang of diaper changing in no time, the whole while, through no fault of his own, oblivious to Wyatt's private pain.

What an odd duo she and Wyatt made for godparents. She was consumed with fear over how she'd have to single-handedly care for her child, while Wyatt feared the emptiness in his life of never having a child. Two opposite sides of a coin.

When she thought of the day she would deliver her baby, Natalie's throat tightened. How sad she would be, bringing her baby home to an empty house. As a
school counselor, she was all too aware of how many single moms and dads didn't do such a great job. But then there were just as many who managed to raise well-adjusted children. She planned on doing her best in regard to her son or daughter, but what if that wasn't good enough?