“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.
THE WEED GULCH 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.”
“WHAT 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.
“ALL 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 chi
ld. 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?
AFTER BREAKFAST, WYATT 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. “Remember 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.
“GUESS WHAT? GUESS 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, wh
at 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.”
A Baby In His Stocking (The Buckhorn Ranch Book 4) Page 8