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

by Laura Marie Altom

  “No,” he argued, raiding her closet and dresser for baby-delivery-appropriate clothes. “The book was quite clear on having soothing music in the birthing room.”

  In the bedroom, she asked, “What happened to my Wyatt? I’m pretty sure you’re not him.”

  “I’m being responsible. Is your camera battery charged and do you have plenty of memory cards?”

  “I know this is a big deal,” she started rummaging through her dresser drawers, “but last I checked, my card holds almost a thousand pictures. I think we’re fine with only one.”

  “Just in case, we’ll stop off at a Walmart on the way into Tulsa.”

  She’d gathered a change of clothes and returned to the bathroom.

  “What are you doing?” He followed. “This is an emergency. We have to go.”

  “News flash, baby expert! I peed myself with amniotic fluid. I’m taking a shower before going anywhere.”

  “Should I get in with you? Make sure you’re all right?”

  “You’re crazy,” she said while shimmying out of her tights. “Not only am I reconsidering marrying you, but I might have you banned from the delivery room.”

  “Really?” His heart sank.

  On her tiptoes, she kissed him. “Not really. But, angel, you’ve got to relax. Everything’s going to be fine.”

  EIGHTEEN HOURS LATER, Natalie was hot and cold and so far from fine she seriously regretted blowing off Lamaze. Agony didn’t begin describing the reality of childbirth. All those idyllic magazine shots of blissful moms in the delivery room? Lies!

  “Wyatt?”

  “Right here, sweetheart.” He’d been seated in a rocker at the head of her bed, but now stood. “What do you need?”

  “Ask when I can have an epidural.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He kissed her forehead. “Be right back.”

  “Poor thing,” Josie crooned, holding a cold cloth to Natalie’s forehead. “It may not seem like it now, but when you finally hold your baby in your arms, this will all be worth it.”

  “If I survive.”

  “You’ll be fine,” her best friend assured.

  Wyatt returned with a nurse.

  “I heard you could use a little relief?”

  Wincing through her latest contraction, Natalie managed a nod.

  “I’ve put out a call for the anesthesiologist, but it could take anywhere from ten minutes to an hour for him to get here.”

  Hovering at the foot of the bed, Wyatt said, “If we had that ocean relaxation CD the book talked about, it might help.”

  Was it wrong that Natalie wanted to leap from the bed and strangle the man she was about to marry? “For the last time, I don’t want to hear whales or seagulls or anything other than my ob-gyn announcing my baby’s a healthy boy.”

  “What if you accidentally have a girl?” the nurse asked.

  “Does that happen?” Natalie raised her brows. “The ultrasound people flub their predictions?”

  “Not often, but I have seen it. Usually it turns out that little girls are actually boys.”

  The nurse finished recording Natalie’s vitals before leaving the room.

  Natalie finally got her epidural, which helped, but didn’t completely numb the pain. What did bring comfort was Wyatt constantly by her side. He fed her ice chips and rubbed her neck and was the only one not cracking jokes about her needing three pairs of socks on her freezing feet.

  Hour after hour passed.

  Natalie’s parents stopped by, but when Opal made a move to make herself comfortable in the delivery room, Wyatt ushered her and Bud out to the waiting room where they could sit surrounded by Buckhorns.

  Finally, the time came to push.

  Wyatt’s voice became a tranquil pool in the midst of an awful storm. When she screamed, no matter how hard she squeezed his hand, he never let go. And when the baby finally crowned, and she felt as if she were being torn apart, he held on still, urging her forward with dear words of encouragement.

  “That’s it,” Wyatt urged, “push, angel, push. You can do it. This baby’s going to make our family whole.”

  “You’re almost done,” her doctor said. “Just a little more.”

  Natalie screamed and bore down. She had never worked so hard for anything. And then the pain was gone.

  “Congratulations, mama,” her nurse said. “You have a handsome baby boy. Know what you want to name him?”

  Laughing, crying, trembling as the nurse set the baby to Natalie’s chest, she shook her head. “Look, Wyatt, at how perfect he is.”

  “He’s a full-on miracle.” Wyatt had teared up, as well.

  “His fingers are so tiny.” Natalie wondered at her little man. Never had she fallen for a guy so fast. “I love you.”

  “I can already tell I love him, too.” What Wyatt wasn’t certain of in that moment was had he asked Natalie to marry him out of genuine emotion, or the desire to be a father to her baby? Because at the moment, he was so overcome by what he’d just witnessed, he couldn’t be sure.

  Chapter Fifteen

  One week into parenthood, Wyatt’s stomach had settled into a permanent knot.

  He didn’t think it was possible, but Natalie’s son, Micah, felt like his own. Life had never been more perfect, yet at the same time more of a lie.

  With the wedding being held a week from Saturday, Wyatt felt dishonorable. As if in even proposing to Natalie, he’d hitched a ride on her happy train. Had he truly fallen for her, or was he with her only for her child? If that was the case, how could he do that to Natalie, caring for her as he did?

  While Natalie slept, Wyatt rocked Micah, memorizing every inch of his face. The way his eyelashes swept his cheeks and how even though he was sleeping, his lips still suckled. His skin was impossibly soft and blemish-free. Just like his conscience.

  Wyatt couldn’t ever remember not harboring guilt over one thing or another. As a kid, he’d constantly been in trouble. As a teen, he hadn’t been much better. For a while he’d tried unsuccessfully to be a responsible adult, but upon asking Natalie to marry him, all that had changed.

  “You two look handsome together.”

  Wyatt glanced up to see Natalie in her sleep-rumpled glory. “Pretty sure this beast’s magnetism is rubbing off on me.”

  Holding out her arms, she smiled, “Give me our little angel.”

  Wyatt handed Natalie the baby before joining her on the bed.

  “Funny how everything turned out,” she said. “After all the time we spent with Esther, I actually feel somewhat competent with Micah—except for breast-feeding. It’s trickier than it looks.”

  “I wouldn’t know,” he said with a straight face. “Though last time I tried, the process seemed fairly straightforward.”

  “If I didn’t need both hands for holding our baby, you’d be in serious trouble, Mr. Buckhorn.”

  “Soon-to-be Mrs. Buckhorn, bring it on. But when you’re done pummeling me, I want to talk.”

  “About what?” Taking pink baby lotion from the nightstand, she squirted a dab into her palm, then rubbed it onto the baby’s hands and forearms.

  Wyatt took a fortifying breath, searching for the right words. “I wish I had— No, I wanted to—”

  Natalie’s cell rang. “Hold that thought. It’s probably your mom. She has questions about the flowers.”

  The caller did turn out to be Georgina, and after an initial discussion on the merits of tulips versus daffodils, the conversation turned to cake—three or five tier. Band versus DJ or both. And on and on and on.

  Wyatt couldn’t give a flip about having a lavish wedding, but it seemed important to Natalie and his mom.

  Sensing his bride was only getting warmed up on the issue of linen colors, Wyatt kidnapped Micah and took him to the living room for male bonding over OU basketball.

  Fate would ultimately decide when the time was right for Wyatt to ask Natalie if she thought they were rushing things. More important, if she thought what they shared was genuine, l
ast-a-lifetime love. Or was it just excitement over the baby? Until then, he wouldn’t waste a second with the precious child.

  AT THE REHEARSAL DINNER, Wyatt slipped his arm around Natalie’s shoulders just as Dallas hit the tines of his fork to his champagne flute.

  “If I could have everyone’s attention.” Dallas raised his glass. “Can’t believe the day has finally come, but tomorrow, the last of the Buckhorn clan is getting married. Even better, Wyatt’s bride happens to be my wife’s best friend, Natalie. As if that weren’t enough to make this an extra-special occasion, Natalie is also bringing her son, Micah, to the family.”

  Georgina currently had hold of the baby and showed no signs of letting go.

  “When my brother was a little kid,” Dallas continued, “one of his favorite things to do was rein Ralph the donkey to an old wagon. He’d drive that poor donkey all over hell and creation, not playing cowboys and Indians, but wagon train. He’d pretend the dogs were his kids, and his wife, well, she was a scarecrow he’d found in a corner of the barn.”

  “Hey,” Wyatt said in his defense above the laughter, “she was a seriously hot scarecrow.”

  “Sure, bro. Anyway, making a long story short, I couldn’t be happier my brother Wyatt has a beautiful family worthy of leading down the Oregon Trail. And while I’m assuming the happy couple won’t be setting out for the West Coast anytime soon, they are embarking on what I hope will be a fulfilling lifelong journey for them both.”

  “Hear, hear!” Georgina called out. “To the bride and groom! May your marriage trail be pothole-free and filled with the bounty of love.”

  “Not sure what that last part meant,” Wyatt whispered to Natalie, “but I’m all for the toasting.” While their friends and family clinked glasses, he and Natalie shared a champagne-flavored kiss.

  “Wagon train is the best game ever, isn’t it? Did the guys on your football team know what you did after practice?”

  “Ha-ha,” he complained. “I was ten.”

  “I think it’s hot.” Pressing against him, she said in a sex-kitten purr, “Big, strong you protecting me and itty bitty Micah from mountain lions and bears. We could cuddle up at night in front of the campfire, feeding each other bites of beef jerky.”

  “Don’t forget smoked salmon.” He stole a kiss. “I love that stuff.”

  “Absolutely. We’ll add to my part of the wedding vows that I’ll always keep a big supply of salmon on hand for my man.”

  Though they were only playing around, Wyatt wished he could make her the same kind of blanket promise. Loving, protecting and cherishing Micah was the easy job. It was everything else that had him worried.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, tracing his frown lines. “You look like you just lost your best friend.”

  I’m afraid I will.

  He needed to come clean about his fears, but obviously the middle of their rehearsal dinner wasn’t the right time. But if not now, when? The clock was ticking. If he didn’t tell her before the wedding, and for whatever reason, things between them didn’t work out, he wouldn’t blame her if she never talked to him again.

  “I’m good,” he said. “Overwhelmed. I’ve gotta confess this is a place I never expected to be.” He gestured to the opulence around them: his mother’s fairy-tale wedding theme, complete with a temporary castle for them to be wed in; the hundreds, maybe even thousands of spring flowers—lilacs and daffodils and tulips. All of his siblings’ weddings had been grand, but since his was the last, his mother had explained, she’d wanted it to rival royalty. Because that’s what the Buckhorns were. Oklahoma royalty.

  “Me, neither,” Natalie admitted. “But how lucky are we? I don’t mean about the fancy wedding—although it is going to be nothing short of amazing—but for us to have sort of discovered each other after all these years. I can’t stop pinching myself. I remember once telling you I’d settle for nothing less than my very own Prince Charming, and here you are.”

  Eyes shining with unshed tears, she stood on her tiptoes to kiss him.

  Lord, he didn’t want to hurt this woman. But then if he really meant that, he’d have never proposed. The truth was, no matter how badly he wanted her dream for their happily-ever-after to come true, as long as she was marrying him, he feared her happy ending was unlikely.

  “I’VE NEVER SEEN A MORE beautiful bride,” Josie gushed to Natalie. Because of its easy access to the faux-stone castle Georgina had constructed—complete with a moat—the ranch’s guest cabin was being used for the bridal suite.

  “I agree,” Cami said. “You’re glowing.”

  Considering the outrageous opulence of her ivory satin dress, it would be impossible for any woman not to glow. The skirt was full like a storybook princess’s and the veil made of ivory lace so fine she was afraid heavy breathing might cause a tear. A styling team had been brought in from Tulsa to do the wedding party’s makeup and hair. Natalie’s upswept ’do featured crystals and pearls.

  Josie, Daisy, Cami and Wren served as bridesmaids. Their dresses were a parade of satin ball gowns in celebratory shades of spring. Their hair had been swept high with fresh flowers matching their dresses’ colors.

  Georgina had been in and out, but mostly out. As the chief wedding planner, her proverbial plate wasn’t just full, but heaped and threatening to topple.

  “In case I haven’t told you enough,” Josie said, “I’m insanely happy for you. Wyatt is such a good man. You two are going to have an amazing life.”

  “Are you living in his house or yours?” Wren asked Natalie.

  The bride laughed. “If you’d seen the size of mine, you’d know it’s not even a question.”

  Daisy said, “Wyatt’s place is an architectural wonder.”

  Wren asked Daisy, “How long until your house is finished?”

  Making a strangling gesture, Daisy said, “Considering we’ve just fired our fourth stonemason, we’re hoping to be in by May. I never knew there could be so many little things to go wrong.”

  “This is off topic,” Natalie said, “but before the day gets away from me, I want you all to know how excited I am to become an official Buckhorn. I’ve been crashing your family parties forever, so it’ll be nice from now on to have a standing invitation.”

  “Aw,” Daisy said. “Group hug.”

  Getting four full skirts out of the way enough to embrace was no easy feat, but Natalie’s throat swelled in gratitude that they did.

  A knock sounded on the cabin door.

  “Let me get it,” Josie said. “I don’t want any of the groomsmen barging their way in.”

  “Bud, Opal,” Josie said, her tone less than thrilled. Natalie’s stomach sank. She loved her parents, but lately, no matter what she did, they didn’t seem to be on her side. They were, however, enamored with their grandson, who was currently sacked out in his wicker bassinet.

  “Honey,” Natalie’s mother said, “you look stunning. Your father and I couldn’t be happier for you.”

  “Really?” Because the last time they’d talked, her mother had still been dubious as to the degree of Wyatt’s commitment.

  Bud nodded. “I’m sorry for our initial reaction to your engagement. After seeing how great Wyatt is with Micah, we understand what you see in him. He’s not the same man Weed Gulch labeled the town’s only professional bachelor.”

  “Thanks, Dad.” Fighting back tears so as not to ruin her makeup, she gave him and her mother a hug.

  After checking on their grandson, Natalie’s parents left.

  Their blessing had been the whipped cream and cherry on top of her already perfect day.

  When there was another knock, Natalie assumed her parents had forgotten something. Maybe her borrowed item or something blue?

  Josie called that she’d get it, but Natalie beat her to it.

  She tossed open the door, expecting to be handed her mother’s prized pearl bracelet. Her expectations were right—along with a bonus teary hug.

  Natalie wanted to be one hun
dred percent immersed in her dewy bridal role, but she couldn’t get Wyatt’s haunted look from the night before to leave her brain. What had been troubling him? Would she ever know?

  STANDING AT THE ALTAR, spring sun warm on his face, Wyatt wanted to feel complete. As if his every dream were on the verge of coming true.

  Cami walked down the aisle, followed by Wyatt’s sister and two sisters-in-law.

  Alongside him stood Dallas, Cash, Luke and Kolt.

  The castle his mother had designed was insane—but in a good way. The massive rectangular space had been constructed of wood and then covered in faux stone. A drawbridge led guests and the wedding party to a two-story great hall complete with a retractable roof—since any time of year Oklahoma weather could be iffy. The altar end featured a three-level stage on which towered antique candelabras and enough blooms to make the entire space smell of spring. Stained-glass windows were each fronted by ornamental peach trees in bloom.

  Wyatt had to hand it to his mother. He didn’t have a clue where she came up with her outlandish party ideas, but he was glad this one had been used on him. The moat she’d had dug to surround the castle even had fountains. Because who didn’t want to hear tinkling water mingling with their string octet?

  As grand as the wedding’s backdrop, nothing compared to the wonder of Natalie walking down the aisle, accompanied by her father and son. Natalie had her hands full with an enormous draping bouquet. Bud pushed a decorated baby carriage, and though Natalie’s dad typically wore a scowl, on this day he smiled.

  Her whole walk, Wyatt tried holding Natalie’s gaze, but in the end, he couldn’t. Her baby held him in a spell. How long had he dreamt of having his own child?

  Wyatt would be the best imaginable father, but this ceremony, this moment, wasn’t about Micah, but the little guy’s mother. Didn’t Natalie deserve the same degree of love and adoration? What was wrong with him that he felt dubious as to whether he had it in him to give?

  Once Wyatt’s bride reached him, and her father had officially given her and Micah away, Wyatt assumed he’d feel better. More at peace. Instead, the more he took in her emotion-filled expression, the more he knew he couldn’t sustain this lie. How was he ever going to know if he loved Natalie enough to marry her? He felt as if she was his best friend, but shouldn’t there be something more?