A Baby In His Stocking (The Buckhorn Ranch Book 4)

by Laura Marie Altom

  “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.

  Turning his attention to her lips, he kissed her until she groaned. Until she raked her fingers through the hair at the back of his head, urging him closer and deeper and driving him crazy with sexy mewing sounds.

  “I want you so bad,” he said on a brief break for air.

  Nodding, she said, “Likewise, but remember? We promised each other no more of this?”

  “But it’s Christmas,” he reasoned.

  She stole another deep kiss and murmured, “Maybe we could go a little further. Like you taking off your shirt.”

  “Me?” Rocking back on his heels, he said, “I was thinking more along the lines of you. I swear your girls grow a cup size every day.”

  Her playful swat only encouraged him.

  And then they both undressed each other, kissing and caressing and speaking through lingering touches and glances and breathy sighs.

  “I want to make love to you,” he said, sweeping the backs of his fingers down the sides of her full breasts. She shivered—not from cold, but sensation.

  She nodded, then shook her head. “We can’t. I’m sorry. We just can’t.” Gathering her sweater and tank, she clutched them to her, rising from the sofa only to hurry up the stairs.

  IN HER ROOM, NATALIE shut the door, leaning against it. The cold wood bit her bare back, reminding her just how close she and Wyatt had come to making love. For a woman determined to steer clear of all men—especially Wyatt—how was it that each day she grew closer to the one man above all she knew lacked a commitment gene. Sure, he might’ve backed out on his African adventure, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have another trip already planned.

  In bed, she tossed and turned, alternately hoping Wyatt would come to her and praying he didn’t.

  When she woke in the morning to cold rain beating her windows, the empty side of her bed equally as chilly, she knew her prayer had come true. But she wasn’t the least bit happy about it.

  Then it dawned on her that for the first time since she’d started serving as a substitute mom for Josie, she’d slept through the night. She’d been so ashamed of her own actions with Wyatt that she’d run off without the baby monitor she’d left on the coffee table.

  Bolting from bed, she ran to the nursery, fully expecting to find poor Esther soaked and screaming from hunger.

  Instead, she found the baby’s crib empty.

  Racing down the hall and back staircase, she reached the kitchen only to freeze on the bottom step. The twins and Mabel sat at the kitchen table, eating scrambled eggs. Esther grinned in Wyatt’s arms as he teased her with a teething ring.

  “Good morning.” He glanced up, making her pulse race from not only his gorgeous smile, but the charming scene.

  “Why didn’t you wake me?” She circled the table with kisses for all the girls.

  “We’re letting you rest!” Betsy hopped up to pull out the empty chair alongside her. In the process, three of the crayons she’d been using rolled onto the floor. “I made you a picture!” The scene she proudly displayed left a sentimental knot in Natalie’s throat. “It’s us four girls and you and Uncle Wyatt. We’re a family!”

  “And look!” Bonnie was also up, but she ran to the counter. “Us and Uncle Wyatt made you stuff to eat with lots of cheese!”

  “Thank you.” As Bonnie set a simple plate of eggs, bacon, strawberries and biscuits in front of her, Natalie was overcome with emotion.

  “Here’s honey for your biscuit.” Betsy took the honey bear from Mabel to set it in front of Natalie.

  Mabel screamed.

  Natalie grimaced, making quick work of splitting her baked goods and drizzling them with honey. “This is so sweet of all of you,” she said once Mabel had custody of her bear again. “Especially you.” Gaze locked with Wyatt’s, she feared all the air had vanished from the room. Just looking at him made her pulse quicken. Remembering what they’d almost shared made her cheeks flush.

  “You’re welcome,” he said with a flirty wink. “You had a late night. Thought you and your baby could use the rest.”

  She shot him a scowl. “Had you left out the wink, I wouldn’t now suspect your motive.”

  “How did we get from cheesy eggs to motive?”

  His meal was too delicious to waste arguing. “Let’s just say if you think wooing me through my stomach will produce results different from those we shared last night, you’d be wrong.”

  Eyebrows raised, he asked, “What if all I want are the same results?”

  “You’re incorrigible.” The heat pouring from her cheeks rivaled the bacon’s sizzle.

  “Yep.” He shifted a now dozing Esther to his other shoulder. The sight of the baby lying safe in Wyatt’s big, strong arms was mesmerizing. Natalie couldn’t get over his transformation from professional bachelor to temporary dad. Esther’s current contentment level meant he’d even managed a late-night feeding and changing her diaper. “That’s part of my charm.”

  Bonnie asked, “What are you guys talking about?”

  “And why are you looking all funny at each other?” Betsy wanted to know.

  Mabel upended the honey bear and sucked the contents straight into her sticky mouth.

  “I DON’T WANNA HAIRCUT!” The day before New Year’s Eve, Bonnie wriggled and bucked in the beautician’s chair.

  “She doesn’t like getting her hair cut.” Betsy sat prim and proper for her hair dresser.

  Mabel sat with Wyatt and Esther in the waiting area. Apprehension showed in her tightly folded arms and frown. Wyatt had tried reading to her, but she was too concerned about her sister to pay attention to a dancing bear.

  “Bonnie, please,” Natalie reasoned. “Your grandma told me that your mom and dad will be home soon. When they do get back, do you want to look like a shaggy hair monster?”

  “Yeah,” Betsy said. “Don’t you wanna be a movie star like me?”

  Bonnie stuck out her tongue.

  Holding Esther to him with his right arm, Wyatt took Mabel by his left. “Come on, squirt. Let’s see how bad this is really going to be.”

  “No cut!” Mabel said, refusing to budge.

  “What if I get my hair cut first?” he asked.

  She answered with an angry shake of her head.

  Grunting from the girl’s surprising weight, he hefted her up, as well. “Noooooooo!”

  “She’s such a baby,” Bonnie said with disdain.

  To Bonnie, he said, “How about straightening up and telling your little sister getting her hair cut is no big deal.”

  “Is so,” Bonnie insisted.

  “Look at me, Mabel.” Betsy made a few supermodel poses. “I loooove going to the beauty parlor.”

  “Me, too,” Natalie said.

  Wyatt asked, “When’s the last time you treated yourself to a fancy new ’do?”

  “Can’t remember.” Facing the mirror, she asked, “Are you hint
ing I need womanly maintenance?”

  “Not at all. Just thinking you might be the perfect person to show Mabel, here, that getting gussied up for her daddy is a good thing.”

  “Don’t do it, Miss Nat,” Bonnie said with a shake of her head.

  “Stay still,” her beautician requested. “If you don’t, I may cut you.”

  “See?” Bonnie said. “This is super dangerous.”

  Sighing, Natalie asked the receptionist, “Does anyone have room on their schedule for me?”

  They did and she proved a good sport. After Natalie’s hair was washed, she welcomed Mabel onto her lap. As the stylist worked scissors around Natalie’s head, the little girl stared into the mirror with rapt interest.

  Betsy asked Wyatt, “How come you’re not getting your hair cut?”

  He gave Esther a jiggle. “I like mine rugged.”

  “That’s not fair,” Natalie said.

  Bonnie had refused to have her dripping hair styled and sat in the reception area pouting.

  “Yeah, Uncle Wyatt!” Betsy was having her hair blown dry. “If you had handsome hair, maybe you and Miss Nat could go on a date!”

  “You think?”

  His niece and her stylist nodded.

  “Ask her,” Betsy urged, “ask her!”

  “Miss Nat,” he said in front of her chair, ignoring her blazing cheeks. He knew he was playing with fire, but with the sun shining and his brother and sister-in-law making great progress, Wyatt was in the mood to throw caution into a campfire. “What do you think? Would an act as dramatic as me getting a haircut convince you to go on an official date?”

  Her frown was almost as big as Bonnie’s. “I thought we weren’t going to go there.”

  “Hmm,” Natalie’s stylist said, “from the sound of that I’m guessing you two have already dabbled in romance?”

  “No,” Natalie said.

  “Not really,” Wyatt said.

  Bonnie chimed in with, “Uncle Wyatt put his hands on Miss Nat’s butt!”

  Chapter Eleven

  Standing on her parents’ front porch, with Esther bundled in her arms, the twins bickering and Wyatt wrangling Mabel who kept insisting she didn’t want to wear any clothes, Natalie wished herself back to her former, sane life. The salon had been stressful enough. An impromptu dinner invitation from Opal and Bud probably wouldn’t prove relaxing.

  “Aw,” Opal opened the door wearing her favorite pink apron and a supersized smile, “don’t you all look pretty! I heard about your big day at the beauty parlor.”

  “My lady almost stabbed me to death,” Bonnie said, barging into the house, removing her coat only to toss it on the floor.

  “Hey,” Wyatt scolded. “Pick that up and ask Mrs. Lewis where she’d like you to hang it.”

  “Yeah,” Betsy said. Her stylist had given her Shirley Temple curls. Ever since, she’d been in princess mode. “Ladies always hang their coats.”

  Bonnie stuck out her tongue.

  “We didn’t know you were coming,” Opal said to Wyatt.

  “Hot!” Mabel plopped her behind onto the living room carpet, tugging at her shoes and white tights.

  “You’ve got your hands full.” Natalie’s father, Bud, took the twins’ coats. “Wyatt. Opal may not have been expecting you, but it’s always good seeing you. It’s been a while.”

  “Yessir, it has.” The men shook hands. Natalie had been pleasantly surprised when Wyatt volunteered to accompany her. Though at times he exasperated, flustered and mesmerized, more often than not, he was becoming a true friend.

  The house was an old-fashioned ranch, featuring formal living and dining rooms and a big country kitchen. It had mostly beige decor, so the tall, dark-suited man seated on her mom’s “fancy” sofa stood out like a lone orange-garbed OSU fan at an OU game.

  “Honey,” Opal practically dragged Natalie across the room. “I’d like you to meet my friend Alice’s pride and joy, Ian. He just returned from Iraq and isn’t sure whether to start a ranch or pursue something else. Either way, I knew you’d want to meet him.” To Wyatt she said, “I appreciate you dropping off Natalie and the girls, but if you have things to do, we’ll understand if you can’t stay for dinner.”

  Wyatt waved off her concern, extending his hand to Ian, “Good to meet you. Thanks for serving.”

  Ian nodded. “Glad to meet both of you.”

  With Mabel still stripping, the older girls came over to investigate the new guy. “I’m Bonnie and this is my twin, Betsy. She looks just like me. ’Cause we’re twins.”

  “That’s cool,” Ian said. “I’m glad to meet you, too.”

  “I just had my hairs decorated,” Betsy said, fluffing her curls. “I’m gorgeous. But Bonnie didn’t get her hairs done, so she’s ugly.”

  “Am not!” Bonnie roared. “You’re the ugly one.”

  “Oh my.” Fingering her pearls, Opal said, “Girls, would you like to watch TV in the den?”

  “No, thank you.” Betsy checked herself out in the mirror hanging behind the sofa. “I want everyone to see how pretty I am.”

  “I’m nekked!” Mabel had finally gotten her way and ran, laughing and waving her arms, wearing nothing but the big red bow in her hair. “Nekked! Nekked!”

  The night went downhill from there.

  During dinner, Esther pitched the mother of all infant fits. Mabel put corn up her nose and Bonnie declared herself on a hunger strike. Betsy announced she was on a movie star diet and ate only mashed potatoes.

  By dessert and after-dinner coffee, Esther had thankfully fallen asleep in her carrier and the twins took Mabel to watch TV.

  “Whew,” Bud said, sipping at his French roast, “those girls are quite a handful. Natalie, bet it makes you glad for having a man around the house—even if Wyatt is only temporary.”

  Natalie swallowed a groan.

  Opal cleared her throat. “Ian told me he once volunteered to coach his base’s Little League team. He’s very good with children. In fact, his mom told me he won an award for his charitable activities.”

  Looking as if he’d like to crawl beneath the table, Ian said, “It wasn’t a big deal.”

  “Sure was,” Bud added, “he even won a plaque.”

  Their guest ducked behind his coffee cup. “Since it’s getting late, I should probably go.”

  “Already?” Opal complained. “At least let me get you a piece of pie to take home. Your mother has been hounding me for my recipe for years, but it’s a family secret. Natalie knows my banana cream recipe, though. Don’t you, honey? My Natalie is a very accomplished cook.”

  Forcing a smile, Natalie said, “Ian, it was a pleasure meeting you. Good luck in whatever career path you choose.”

  “Thanks.” The poor guy looked as put off by her mother’s transparent matchmaking technique as Natalie had been. “Wyatt, I might give you call about my folks’ abandoned wells. With oil prices so high, might be worth the cost to reopen a few.”

  Wyatt withdrew his wallet, offering Ian a business card. “Anytime.”

  With Ian out of the house, Opal attacked. “Honey, isn’t he handsome? And so accomplished. When I heard you’d just gotten your hair done, I knew this was the perfect night for you two to meet. Although I didn’t expect Wyatt to tag along.”

  Natalie stood, stacking dessert plates to take to the kitchen.

  Bud said, “Honey, don’t be upset with your mom. Time is ticking for you to find a father for your baby.”

  As if to remind them he was still in the room, Wyatt cleared his throat.

  “Damn it.” Fuming, Natalie slammed the dishes in the sink with enough force to snap the bottom two. “For the last time, I’m fine raising this baby on my own. Craig’s leaving was horrible. Why would I ever put myself—let alone my child—in the position of being walked out on again? Because trust me, even if I did suddenly find a husband, what’s to stop him from leaving? What man in his right mind would even want to father another man’s baby?”

  Opal began t
o cry.

  Of course, Bud put his arms around her.

  Who comforted poor, pregnant Natalie? No one.

  “THAT WAS QUITE A tongue-lashing you gave your folks.” Long after they’d put the girls to bed, Wyatt found Natalie nursing a cup of her favorite mint tea. She shrugged.

  “You really feel that way? Like just because you’re pregnant, you’re damaged goods?”

  Sipping her tea, she asked, “Any chance of you leaving me alone? Because I’m pretty sure you once said the same.”

  In response, he hefted himself onto the counter, pillaging the contents of the cookie jar. “It’s not really my business, but Nat, you’re an amazing woman—inside and out. Any man would be lucky to have you and your son.”

  Any man, but not you. As soon as the thought hit her head, Natalie fought to erase it. What had happened to her to go from hating Wyatt to considering him to be one of her closest friends? Possibly even more? What would happen when Dallas and Josie returned home, ending the cozy family scenario she and Wyatt had formed? “Please, leave me alone.”

  “No can do.” Hopping off the counter, he joined her at the table. “Wanna take a walk?”

  “Love to, but we can’t leave the girls alone.”

  He thumped his forehead. “Rookie new-dad mistake.”

  “But you’re not a dad.”

  Once her statement sunk in, his smile faded.

  “As soon as Dallas and Josie return, we’re out of here. The dumbest thing you ever did was not going to Africa. You could’ve had a fresh start. A clean slate. Isn’t that what you want?”

  “Yeah, Nat. You nailed it.”

  She moved to freshen her tea.

  “Is there any subject you won’t overanalyze?”

  She poured steaming water from the teapot into her mug, then dunked her tea bag. “Is there any analysis you won’t question?”

  “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” Wyatt woke the morning of New Year’s Eve to find all hell breaking loose in the kitchen. At 5:00 a.m., not even the kids were out of bed, so what was a barn-big pregnant woman doing on a rickety stepladder? “Seriously, you need to get down from there.”

  “Don’t tell me what to—” She turned too fast, in the process losing her balance.