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Authors: Laura Marie Altom

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A
FTER BREAKFAST
, W
YATT
fed and watered the horses.

Then he took the Jeep and checked the cattle on the ranch's desolate southwest corner. The storm had hit with such ferocity, there hadn't been time to move them. They'd lost two, and coyotes had feasted on the carcasses.

He hated this side of the business. Made him thankful for his brothers so he didn't have to do it every day. Wyatt understood that death was a natural part of life and all that, but when he spent time feeding and caring for animals, then felt guilty for eating them, he realized just what a pathetic cowboy he truly was.

Taking a shovel from the back of the Jeep, he dug a shallow grave and filled it with the remains.

Give him an oil field over this any day. He enjoyed every aspect of the business, from collecting raw field data like he'd hopefully soon be doing in Ethiopia, to helping out on a pipeline crew. Though he was qualified to be the boss, he enjoyed working with his hands. Aligning pipe segments. Guiding pipes into the trench. Even using a chain saw to clear growth from pipeline right-of-ways. Some of his most fulfilling memories had been made on Alaska's North Slope.

While there were healthy, producing wells on Buckhorn land, those were old news. Wyatt preferred the thrill of the chase and claiming new ground.

In a darker mood than when he'd left the house,
Wyatt returned late in the afternoon to find Betsy and Bonnie building a fort out of what little remained of the snow.

“Uncle Wyatt,” Bonnie asked, running up to him while eating a handful of snow. “Kolt said eating snow will make a baby in me like the one Miss Natalie has in her. Is that true?”

“No.” Glaring at his nephew, he said, “Kolt, what's your problem? Why would you say something like that to little girls?”

“I dunno.” Chin to his chest, Kolt said, “They were being dorks and saying I have a horse nose, so I wanted to tell them something stupid back.”

“If eating snow doesn't give you babies, Uncle Wyatt,” Betsy talked around a huge purple wad of grape-smelling bubble gum, “then what does?”

“Ask your mom.”

“She's at the hospital,” Bonnie said. “And when do we get to see her and Daddy? We miss them.”

“Ask Miss Natalie.” Wyatt sidestepped an abandoned snowman on his walk to the back door.

He should've known Bonnie wouldn't give up that easy. “She said to ask you.”

“Swell…” Ignoring the kid, he headed into the house. He'd like a hot shower. To sit down with a half-dozen beers and ESPN. What he'd get was another cold, dark night crammed together with what felt like every kid in the county.

“How were the cattle?” By the light of a single candle, he hadn't seen Natalie standing at the stove.

“Lost two.” Why, he couldn't have said, but he wanted to talk about his day. How long and lonely it had been and how the dead heifers took him back in time to when his 4-H calf had died of scours. “Re
member when we were in eighth grade and Sammy got sick?”

“Yeah.” She placed the wooden spoon she'd been using on the counter. “My friend Dawn and I brought you cookies to make you feel better and you said the sight of me made you worse.”

He took a beer from the lukewarm fridge and popped the top. “Know why I was such a little pissant to you?”

Grinning over her shoulder, she said, “Because that's your natural, obnoxious state?”

“Ha ha.” He downed half the bottle in a few swigs. Mellowed by exhaustion and the intimate lighting, he confessed, “Until I learned your true evil nature, I had the worst crush on you.”

“Evil?” Hands on her hips, she asked, “What did I ever do to deserve a label like that?”

Finishing the beer, he set it onto the table. “What do you think? Denied me.”

“You never pursued me.”

“Did in the fourth grade. You used to wear this red shirt and matching bow that drove me crazy.”

“Which is why that whole year you tormented me every day to the point I cried all the way home?”

“Seriously?” He grabbed another beer.

“You thought calling me
Fatty Natty
was a turn-on?”

Leaning against the counter, he winced. “Sorry. Back then, I had the social skills of a squirrel.”

“Oh—” she laughed “—and you're so much better now?”

Her quirky smile, the way light from the setting sun streamed in the window over the sink, casting a net of red over her hair, all of it melded into a force field of
attraction he felt just as incapable of penetrating now as he had back in fourth grade.

A wimper sounded over the baby monitor.

“If you wouldn't mind watching dinner,” Natalie said, “I'll see which of our charges is unhappy.”

“Sure.” Shifting toward the stove, he asked, “What are we having?”

“Chicken and dumplings.”

“Sounds good. I never knew you could cook.”

Casting a wink over her shoulder, she called out, “Add that to the hundred and one other things you don't know about me.”

Damned if he could figure out why, but the more he learned about Natalie, the more intrigued he became.

 

“G
UESS WHAT
? G
UESS WHAT
?” Bonnie ran into the kitchen, where Natalie was doing dishes by candlelight. The guys had offered to handle the chore, but truthfully, it was a relief having them on baby duty. She'd always adored being around kids, but riding out the storm had been akin to jumping feetfirst into the parental fire.

“What?” Natalie asked the little girl.

“Uncle Cash said we're all going to watch a movie. I haven't watched a movie in a million, trillion years.”

“Me, neither,” Betsy said, staking claim to her sister's exaggeration.

“How are you going to do that?” Natalie used some of the warm water she'd heated for washing to wet a dishrag, wiping down the counters.

“Uncle Luke brought his big car back from the hospital and it has a DVD player in the backseat.”

“That sounds fun. Want me to make you popcorn?”

Both girls shouted their agreement.

Cash and Luke sat in the car's front seat, web surfing on their phones, while all but the youngest kids watched a Disney double feature.

“How'd we get so lucky as to rate a quiet house?” Wyatt asked, looking up from the business magazine he'd been skimming. A fire crackled and the light of a dozen candles provided barely enough light for reading.

“Bite your tongue,” Natalie whispered. Callie and Esther were sleeping, but fitfully. Callie had wanted to stay with the big kids, but was so tired she hadn't been able to hold up her head. A few minutes' rocking had sent her drifting off to dreamland. “I'm praying the babies don't wake when everyone else comes in.”

“I'll text Cash to tell their crew to tiptoe.”

“Thanks.” Natalie felt as if she should say more, but what? Their conversation that afternoon, Wyatt's admission of harboring a secret elementary-school crush had caught her off guard. It sounded silly, but the little girl still inside her was flattered. Natalie never considered telling him that by the time they'd reached middle school, she'd taken him cookies when his calf died because she'd been crushing on him.

How different would life now be had either of them been more receptive to the other's advances?

“You're quiet,” Wyatt said.

“Thought you liked me best that way.”

“Ouch.” He played at clutching his chest. “You know, I almost asked you to the eighth grade formal. If I had, what would you have said?”

“Seriously?” She'd just lifted her mug of hot tea, but no longer trusted herself to safely hold hot liquid. “Why bring this up now?”

“Beats me.” He sighed and stretched his legs out in
front of him, crossing them at the ankles. “I had too much time to think this afternoon. Finding the dead cattle reminded me how much I hate ranching. And what a fraud I feel like even living on this ranch.”

“What?” Straightening, she said, “You can't mean that. You're a Buckhorn. A cowboy through and through.”

“Nah. Maybe on the outside, but inside, given the chance, after my stint in Ethiopia, I'd move to Houston and see where our little oil company could really go.” The weak light brought out shadows beneath his eyes. In all the years she'd known him, she'd never heard him be so frank. Had a couple of beers loosened him up? Or was it something more? It was almost as if he felt comfortable enough with her to share his innermost thoughts. But why? Because she was a counselor?

“What's stopping you,” she dared ask, “from making a permanent move?”

“Family obligations so heavy they feel like an anchor.”

“Know what you mean,” she said without thinking. “When my parents found out I was pregnant, they expected me to marry any man who'd have me. Oh, they claimed it was because they worried I wasn't capable of raising a child on my own, but deep down, I think they don't want the shame of having an unwed mother for a daughter.”

“Sorry,” he said. “It never occurred to me you'd get grief from your folks about not being married, too. Everyone's constantly nagging me to conform. Be like all of the rest of my crowd who've suddenly seen the light and found love. Only problem is, I haven't. Don't think I ever will. I'm beginning to think I'm not wired for long-term emotion.”

“That's sad.” The finality of his declaration forged a knot in her throat. “I've always said that after Craig hurt me, I'd never give another man the chance to hurt me. But hearing you voice what I've been thinking makes me wonder if maybe I've been too hasty. Maybe four or five years down the road, my Prince Charming will come.”

“Good luck with that.” He looked away as if in disgust. “Have any idea what the odds are for a single mom to find a guy willing to father another man's son?”

“Are you a monster? Why would you say something like that? Especially when seconds earlier I made a heartfelt admission I should've kept to myself.”

“Sorry. Maybe I am a monster. Or hell, maybe I just no longer have a heart.”

Chapter Seven

Wednesday morning, power had thankfully been restored, but for Natalie, the vibe between her and Wyatt felt strained. Josie and Dallas were being moved from ICU to regular hospital rooms, and by the end of the week, the plan was for them to be placed in a long-term care facility. In the meantime, Luke had taken Kolt and his baby sister, Callie, home. Robin and Prissy were back at their house with Cash and their regular sitter. As Callie usually hung out with Daisy in her office, or at the house they'd been forever renovating, she was also staying with Robin's sitter during the day.

As for Natalie's schedule, she had an appointment with her principal beginning right after the morning bell.

Mabel sat on the floor in Natalie's office, playing with a rag doll and blocks. Esther cooed in her carrier. Natalie sifted through email and snail mail and phone messages. She'd barely been at it ten minutes when her boss sidestepped Mabel's toys to have a seat on the sofa.

“I was sick to hear about Josie and Dallas,” the principal said. “Have you been to see them?”

“Not yet,” Natalie said. “Georgina relayed that Josie
doesn't want the girls seeing her or their father looking so scary.”

“Have they at least spoken on the phone?”

“No.” Natalie played with the Slinky she kept on her desk to busy little fingers. “Georgina's assured the twins their parents will be fine, but it's not hard to see the girls are growing impatient about constantly being put off.”

“I don't blame them.” Clearing her throat, Principal Moody said, “You, of all people, should know children are smarter than we give them credit for. The longer the girls are kept from the reality of what's happened, the more nightmares they'll concoct in their heads.”

“True. But on the flip side, from what Luke and Cash have reported, Dallas and Josie are swollen and bruised to the point they're barely recognizable. What kind of image is that for their kids to forever have in their memories? Especially if Wyatt and I can provide a certain level of continuity in their care.”

Principal Moody left the sofa to lift Esther from her carrier. “Seems like just yesterday we were celebrating this little one's christening.”

“I know,” Natalie managed to say past the knot in her throat. How could so much have changed, yet stayed the same? Her best friends nearly died. Wyatt was in her life, but back to playing a superficial role.

“I don't mean to pry, but how are you and Wyatt managing? Four kids are a lot to handle when your relationship is still young.”

“O-our relationship?” Natalie shook her head.

“When I saw you and Wyatt kiss that afternoon, I assumed…”

“No.” Was it possible for a human to turn twenty shades of red?

“So then he's not the father of your…” She gestured toward Natalie's growing belly.

Mouth dry, Natalie answered with a shake of her head.

“Yes, well, Cami tells me you need paperwork for a leave of absence?”

“We have no idea how long Josie and Dallas may be incapacitated, and I'd feel better watching Esther and Mabel myself than putting them in day care.”

“I understand,” Principal Moody said, “but we'll sorely miss you around here.”

“I'll miss all of you, too.”

Natalie packed a few essentials from her desk—lipstick and Oreo cookies—then put Mabel back in her stroller, balancing Esther's carrier on top.

From school, she settled her crew into their car seats for a trip to the grocery store, where Mabel pitched at least three hissy fits and Esther screamed until she couldn't breathe. Good times, followed by even more fun at the gas station and pharmacy.

Once Natalie returned to the ranch, then unloaded kids and groceries, half her day was gone.

Mabel was still cranky from not getting her way at the store, and Esther seemed hungry. After giving Mabel a juice box and graham crackers, Natalie settled into the living room's comfy rocker to feed the baby her bottle.

“You're good with her.”

Natalie glanced up to see Wyatt. “I didn't hear you come in.”

He shrugged, landing on a seat opposite hers. “She likes you.”

“At this point, the poor thing would probably bond
with anyone who has a bottle. As cranky as she's been, I can tell she misses Josie and Dallas.”

“I talked to Mom this morning.” Wyatt removed his cowboy hat and ran his hand through his hair. “She said Josie and Dallas want to see the kids, but for us to wait until Saturday to bring them.”

“Why so long?”

“I guess for more of their facial bruising and cuts to heal.”

By way of acknowledgment, she nodded. The last time she and Wyatt had been alone, the things he'd said… Suffice to say, her already lackluster opinion of the man had only gotten worse.

The house was too quiet.

The grandfather clock ticked too loud.

Wyatt cleared his throat. “I've been with enough women to know I'm getting the silent treatment.”

Just what every girl wanted to hear. Glancing his way, she shook her head.

“If you're still ticked about movie night—sorry.” Leaning forward, he braced his elbows on his knees. “Lately, I feel dark inside. Like the happier everyone I love becomes, the more miserable I am.”

“News flash—your brother and sister-in-law aren't exactly whooping it up.”

“You know what I mean.” He stood and paced like a penned bull. “Before all of this, I'd never really considered who would miss me if I hid out in Ethiopia for a few years, or for that matter, died, but their accident has me facing my own mortality.”

Natalie repositioned Esther, who was taking her sweet time finishing her bottle. “You do realize every word out of your mouth contradicts your last tantrum?”

“Um, no.” Narrowed eyes told her he was upset she'd even suggest such a thing.

“Which is it? Are you a monster with no heart? Or a mere mortal with a heart so huge it feels empty without a family of your own to share it?”

He froze, staring at her with a mix of anger and maybe realization.

Mabel had been at the coffee table, coloring princesses with chunky crayons. She now stood toe-to-toe with Wyatt's boots, holding up her arms, wiggling her fingers and grinning. “Airplane!”

While Wyatt just stood there, looking at the child as if she'd sprouted pointy alien ears, Mabel added hopping to her adorable routine.

“Airplane! Airplane!”

He knew full well what the toddler wanted. Dallas regularly swooped her up, flying her around while making silly
vroom
noises. What was wrong with Wyatt that he couldn't do the same?

After ruffling the girl's hair, he said, “I've gotta make a few calls. I'll be back in time to occupy the twins while you fix dinner.”

Mabel toddled after him, but soon gave up, falling onto her bottom in a fit of outraged tears.

Esther had drifted off to sleep, so Natalie placed her in her carrier and picked up Mabel, doing her best to replicate Dallas's game. Soon enough, the girl giggled, but she was heavy and Natalie's arms couldn't bear the weight.

Breathless, she collapsed on the sofa, snuggling Mabel alongside her. “Your uncle Wyatt is crazy.”

The girl nodded. “Cra-zie.”

“What are we going to do about it?”

“Cookies!” Mabel laughed.

The little girl's enthusiasm was catching. It made Natalie look forward to the day when she played with her own son or daughter. Instead of being terrified of her looming deadline, she needed to start looking forward to her baby's birth.

“Know what?” Natalie said with a tweak of the girl's nose, “I think you're right. Cookies are exactly what this situation needs.”

 

“W
E EVER GOING TO SEE YOU
?” Cale Montrose, one of the guys Wyatt was supposed to have met in London for the trek down to Africa, sounded staticky on his satellite phone. “We're poised to make the biggest find of the decade. Thought you wanted in?”

“I do…” Running his palm over his stubbled jaw, Wyatt sighed. “Things are complicated over here. But give me a month—two, tops—and I'll grab the first flight over.”

“That long?” The bad connection didn't hide disappointment in Cale's tone. “We need you, man.”

“I know, and I'm sorry. Really, I am, but—”

“Look,” Cale said, “I feel for your family and all, but if you're not over here in say, two weeks, we're going to have to find a replacement. Our crew's too streamlined to head out into the backcountry without a rock hound.
Capisce?

“Yeah.” After a few minutes' small talk, Wyatt hung up. Swell. Just freakin' swell. He'd spent the last year putting this trip together. From getting his Ethiopian visa to making sure everything here on the home front ran like a Buckhorn-oiled machine. In the Tulsa office were folks who inspected and maintained current wells they owned, and looked into obtaining ones they should. All the way in Alaska were more wells
and a pipeline in need of maintenance. It took everything in him to juggle it all. The fact that he'd finally nailed down the details to the point that he could now juggle with no hands brought on mixed feelings. Part of him obviously couldn't wait to get the hell out of Weed Gulch. Another part—one he'd never admit having—was a little hurt that he'd been so easily replaced.

Assuming he did get his chance to wing off to Africa, what then? Would his family, friends, coworkers even notice he was gone? If not, that stung. It also spoke volumes about the kind of bitter, cold creep he'd become.

When Mabel had wanted to play airplane, why hadn't he just gone ahead and picked her up? Just because he couldn't have his own children, did that make him incapable of showing kindness to his brothers'? How many years had Wyatt told himself he was content with a constant string of blondes, but maybe he did want more. Only what was the point in wanting something impossible to obtain?

Nearly losing Dallas had shaken Wyatt to his core.

It'd made him realize he couldn't forever run from his inability to father kids. Sooner or later, he needed to tell his brothers and sister. Maybe then he'd at least find peace in sharing their babies?

Then there was Natalie.

No matter how much chaos ensued, she never lost her cool. How did she do it? Why did he find her talents so damned aggravating? Not only did she have the patience of a saint, but the more focused she'd become on restoring order to the Buckhorn home, the more attractive to him she'd become. Her messy ponytails and rumpled T-shirts and jeans were offset by a quiet strength he found himself craving.

Warm sun streamed through the western wall of his house, reminding him of the promise he'd made to help Natalie with the twins.

By sheer will, could he make tonight different? The next two weeks before he
would
leave? Instead of resenting Natalie's abilities with his nieces, could he learn to become more like her?

When they'd been kids, Daisy's favorite toy had been her Magic 8 Ball. Wyatt couldn't say what made him flash back on that now, but regardless, he feared the answer to his current question, after a fervent shake, would be
outlook doubtful.

 

“O
KAY
, D
ADDY
! S
ORRY
you talk funny, but I love you, too!”

That afternoon, Bonnie and Betsy hung up their house phone extensions at the same time. They'd spent the past ten minutes talking with their parents, and while Natalie could tell the conversation had done the girls good, Bonnie's current frown had her worried.

“What are you thinking, sweetie?”

From her perch on a kitchen counter stool, Bonnie sighed. “Daddy and Mommy sound sick, but why can't they be sick here?”

“Yeah.” Betsy joined her sister. “I say that, too.”

“Because they are hurt pretty bad, they have to stay at the hospital where there are lots of doctors and nurses to fix them.”

“But Mommy at least sounds normal,” Bonnie said. “Why can't she come home?”

Natalie surveyed the freezer for what to cook for dinner. “Remember last year when you two got stomach flu?”

“Yeah…” the twins said in unison.

“You felt awful, but still looked adorable, right?”

“We are very cute,” Bonnie noted.

“And we have the longest hair in our class,” Betsy said.

“There you have it. You proved my point. Just because you were still pretty didn't mean you felt great. That's how your mom is.”

“Oh.” Bonnie frowned.

“Guess that makes sense,” Betsy said.

Finding a two-pound chub of ground beef, Natalie decided tacos sounded yummy and simple. Plus, she remembered seeing corn tortillas at the back of the fridge.

She put the meat in the microwave to thaw, then assembled lettuce, tomatoes and cheese on the counter.

Mabel sat at the table, squeezing Play-Doh.

Esther lounged on her play mat, “talking” to the pink pigs dangling from an arch.

“Can we help?” Betsy asked.

“Absolutely. But first, wash your hands.”

The back door opened and in strolled Wyatt.

If Natalie hadn't known him her whole life, his stubbled square jawline and killer white-toothed smile would've been major turn-ons. Alas, his good looks would never fool her into thinking he might be a good catch.

He hung his cowboy hat on a wall hook, and then turned to the girls. “Wanna play Monopoly?”

Bonnie shook her head. “We're cooking.”

Betsy said, “Thanks, Uncle Wyatt, but Miss Natalie's way more fun than you.”

Natalie fully expected him to turn right around and leave. Instead, he surprised her by picking up his niece
in a growling hug. “If you like Miss Nat better, then that means I'll have to eat you for dinner!”

“No!” Bonnie jumped at his side. “Eat me! Me!”

BOOK: A Baby in His Stocking
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