A Wyoming Christmas to Remember

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A Wyoming Christmas to Remember Page 17

by Melissa Senate


  He stared at her. “What are you talking about?”

  “How impossible are you—still?” she said, her eyes twinkling. “The babies. Your brother. All of it.”

  But his expression told her he didn’t feel stronger. That, in fact, he might be feeling the opposite. And his least favorite adjective when it came to himself: powerless.

  She reached for his hand. “Sawyer, I know that leaving the twins with Cole feels wrong. No matter what he professes or wants to believe about himself. But we have to give him a chance. For one, we don’t have a choice. For another, we need to have faith.”

  “You are back,” he said, putting his hands on either side of her face and kissing her. Gently. Then more passionately.

  “I have so much to say, too much. But all I want to say is that I love you.”

  “I love you, too, Maddie. You know that, right? Above everything else?”

  She nodded. “I know.”

  The sound of a baby crying—Shane, if she wasn’t mistaken—pierced the quiet of the ranch, and they both turned toward the cabin, where Cole paced back and forth, an infant in his arms.

  “Maybe we can just live in the car, in this clearing,” he said, eyeing the windows, “so we can keep watch.”

  She smiled. “Well, at least we know he’s doing what he’s supposed to. I think we can leave feeling okay about this. Let’s give him a chance,” she repeated. “And go home.”

  If you want a baby so bad, Sawyer, have one.

  If she ever lost her memory again, she had no doubt in her mind that she’d never forget the look on Sawyer’s face as Cole had said that.

  Sawyer had seemed shocked, but she knew him too well. He’d been surprised. He’d said something had shifted inside him while he’d been volunteering at the community center and Cole had joined them, that the immovable had budged. And the surprise on his face told her that something had budged just a little more.

  She felt more hopeful than she ever had.

  * * *

  In the morning, Sawyer expected a “we’re fine, stop worrying” text from Cole, but none came. Which of course likely meant they were fine. But he couldn’t stop worrying. Although, granted, it was barely seven.

  But didn’t cowboy Cole get up with the cows and chickens? Would he be working today? Who’d watch the twins? Grizzled old Abe? That wouldn’t be happening. Joe or Lauren? Maybe. But he couldn’t see it.

  The twins were alone in the cabin. Screaming. Hungry. Wet. They’d be all alone all day.

  Sawyer started pacing in his study, trying to tell himself that was not the case. But it could be. Cole wasn’t exactly full of common sense. Maybe he thought he could leave the twins for a few hours and that they’d nap the whole time.

  Where was the roll of Tums? He rummaged through his desk drawer in need of antacids, popped two and dropped down onto his desk chair. Moose eyed him and came over, putting his chin on Sawyer’s thigh.

  “Good dog,” Sawyer said, petting his majestic head.

  He heard footsteps upstairs—Maddie was awake. When they’d gotten home last night, she’d called Dr. Addison’s service to leave a message reporting that her memory had returned, and the doctor had called her back almost immediately. She’d told Maddie to expect to be tired that night and not to fight it, that she needed a very good night’s rest.

  “See, it’s almost a good thing Shane and Max aren’t here to wake me up three times during the night,” she’d said—gently.

  If you want a baby so bad, Sawyer, have one.

  All night, as Maddie slept beside him, he kept replaying that over and over in his head.

  But instead of Okay, I think I will as his answer, he just felt mired in quicksand. Because he’d left his heart in that cabin and every old bad feeling about being unable to do what he wanted, what he needed, came rushing over him.

  He couldn’t control his father and make him act the way he should.

  He couldn’t control Cole and make him act the way he should.

  Cripes. It was exactly how Maddie must feel about him. I can’t control Sawyer and make him act the way he should.

  He froze. That was what he was doing to his beloved wife?

  He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, then snapped to attention. He couldn’t sit here and get sucked down into that quicksand anymore. He needed to act. He needed to know the twins weren’t alone in the cabin, crying their eyes out with full diapers. And hungry.

  He took the stairs two at a time and found Maddie emerging from the shower, her pretty long brown hair damp past her shoulders. He was full of vinegar, but for a moment, everything faded, and all he saw was her—his beautiful wife. His everything.

  “I thought I’d bring some stuff for the twins over to the cabin,” he said. “Want to come?”

  “You’re so transparent, Sawyer Wolfe,” she said. “You want to check on Max and Shane. You’re envisioning them all alone, aren’t you?”

  “Guilty. And unfortunately, it’s not so far-fetched.”

  Her smiled faded. “No, I guess not. But I’m sure they’re fine. He’s either taken the day off or he asked someone to stay with them.”

  “Eighty-seven-year-old Abe?” Sawyer said, raising an eyebrow.

  “Abe is sharp as a tack,” she pointed out. “He finishes the crossword puzzle in Dee’s Diner every morning before anyone else at the counter. Dee told me that herself. Maybe he skipped this morning at the diner to babysit.”

  “Sharp and ‘wants to babysit’ are worlds apart, Maddie.”

  She laughed. “Let’s go load the SUV.”

  * * *

  Turned out that Max and Shane had not been crying and hungry and all alone in the cabin. Joe and Lauren had offered to babysit the twins in their house for a few days until Cole could line up a nanny. They also gave him a raise. The Johannsens had both sung Cole’s praises—that he was twice the worker their last hand was, that he was exceptionally strong for a lanky guy and that he was polite, particularly to the people coming to the ranch to drop off this or that.

  Sawyer and Maddie had been invited into the farmhouse and to say hello to their nephews. Joe and Lauren were actually thrilled to have the little guests for a few days. Joe had played peekaboo at least ten times with the twins, and Lauren had gone from the super-serious person he’d remembered to listening to an impressive bout of baby talk and watching her cuddle each baby.

  Boy, did Sawyer feel better.

  “I’m so glad you suggested bringing things over,” Maddie said as they drove back toward town. “I feel so much better now. This just might work out.”

  “You know, it just might. Cole can be capable of good surprises too. I often forget that.”

  Because when it mattered, Cole had taken care of business. He’d gotten a solid job with room and board. He’d found trustworthy people—his bosses—to watch the twins while he worked. He had likely put out feelers for a nanny. Especially because he could now afford to pay for said nanny.

  Maybe Sawyer would go over in the next couple of days and he and Cole could look at the cabin with an eye toward sectioning off a nursery with a room divider. Maddie was the interior decorator among them, and she’d do wonders with the place to turn it from cowboy cabin to cozy family home.

  “I need to ask you something,” Maddie said as he turned onto Main Street. He parked in the public lot near the chapel, since they planned on doing their final shopping for their Holiday Happymakers recipients.

  “I’m listening,” he said, turning to face her.

  “I wasn’t going to push with this. But given all that’s happened, Sawyer, I do want to know where things stand. Are we having ten children? Or are we starting with one—maybe two at the same time, since twins do run in the family, and we did marry at this chapel with its legend of the multiples.”

  He knew what she was asking—if h
e was ready to be a father. And not because of the bargain he’d made. But because he wanted to be.

  He reached into his pocket for the roll of Tums, but then realized he’d hurt Maddie’s feelings if he ate one, let alone the entire roll, which he needed right now. He wasn’t really ready for this question. But it had been the question for their entire lives, not just during their marriage. Not just this past difficult year.

  Sawyer looked up at the chapel, just in time to see Champ, the beagle mascot, grab half a bagel slathered in cream cheese off the sidewalk that a man had accidentally dropped. He smiled to himself, glad he could smile right now. That’s the way, Champ. Go for the stuff that people drop instead of stealing.

  He’d have to talk to Annie Potterowski again about Champ being out loose on chapel grounds. Had he not told her to keep Champ on a short leash?

  Yeah, keep thinking about the beagle right now instead of the important question your wife just asked you.

  “Sawyer?”

  He cleared his throat. “I just feel so up in the air right now. About Cole. Things seem okay, but it’s been one day.”

  “We need to let Cole be. And please stop making excuses, Sawyer Wolfe. I want to know if your feelings have changed about starting a family.”

  He turned toward her. “I promised you ten kids if that’s how many you want, Mads. So yes, let’s start a family.” Should he feel joyful that he was saying yes and giving her what she wanted? All he felt was that he was being pulled down further into the quicksand.

  If you want a baby so bad, Sawyer, have one.

  Why was this so hard for him? He loved Shane and Max. Loved caring for them, having them in his house. So why was he still so...scared? That was the word for it. Not a word the chief of police would ever want applied to him.

  Her face fell, and she stared straight ahead. “So nothing has changed. You bargained for my life, the universe came through and now you’re making good on your end of the deal. Great. I get the family I want with a husband who really doesn’t want his own children.” She opened the door and got out, hurrying toward the sidewalk.

  No, no, no. This was not happening. Again. Panic clawed at him, and he got out of the SUV and chased after her, but she was gone. It was now just past nine and the shops were all open and bustling with last-minute shoppers the day before Christmas Eve. He peered into a few store windows, but he didn’t see her.

  He pulled out his phone and texted her. Maddie, let’s talk. Please.

  Not right now, she texted back.

  His heart so heavy he was surprised he didn’t drop to the ground, Sawyer went into the grocery store and ordered a ham for his Holiday Happymakers family’s wish list, then bought a $250 gift card to the store. He stopped in MacLeod’s, hoping to see Maddie, but she wasn’t there, and April and Jenna were both very busy with customers. He bought pajamas for the baby as the mother on the form had requested, then stopped at the toy store for the toddler’s yellow dump truck, then stopped into the gift shop for the wool socks for the dad with the Wedlock Creek logo on it. He bought ten pairs of those. He added another gift card, dropped it all in a red holiday bag and brought it over to the community center.

  A woman behind the desk had a big smile on her face as he handed over the bag and the ticket from his envelope, explaining about the ham. She said she’d call the family today and let them know they could pick up their ham anytime today and she’d deliver their bag of gifts herself.

  Now it was time to go buy Jake’s bike. There was one bike shop in town, a big store at the far end of Main Street, and the place did amazing business given all the kids in town—and the multiples. Sawyer looked around the crowded shop, and there it was. The bike of Jake Russtower’s nine-year-old dreams.

  A silver mountain bike with orange stripes. He had the salesclerk add a water-bottle holder and a rack for Jake’s backpack. He also bought a silver helmet. He was about to bring both over to the community center, then wondered if Cole would be volunteering tonight. How could he, though? He could bring the twins, and Sawyer could watch them while Cole volunteered. He thought about Jake being disappointed if his new superhero didn’t show up, and he texted Cole.

  Volunteering with me tonight at the community center? I know Jake will want to see you, so I’d be happy to hang with the twins on the bleachers for even just a half hour while you connect with Jake. Oh, and I got his bike and a cool helmet. Maybe I’ll give it to him there.

  Cole texted back.

  I’ll take you up on that offer to watch the twins while I volunteer. Oh, and you should give the bike to his dad and let his dad give Jake the bike for Christmas.

  Sawyer sat back in his SUV, stunned.

  Yes, that was exactly what he should do. Whether Vince Russtower deserved that or not—Jake did.

  You’re absolutely right, Cole. I owe you one. Didn’t even think of that.

  See, I’m not so bad—all the time.

  Tears stung Sawyer’s eyes, and he blinked them back hard. Hadn’t he just said that Cole was full of surprises? He sure as hell was.

  Sawyer shook his head to get hold of himself and figured he’d do an online search for Vince Russtower’s number. He could probably get it from Reed Barelli’s registration list from the baby-rearing class he’d taught. He was about to drive toward the PD when he saw Vince Russtower standing on Main Street. He was alone, looking in the window of Wedlock Creek Toys. That was a lucky break. But then again, it seemed the entire town was out this morning.

  He approached Vince, who seemed to be looking at a remote-control helicopter in the window. Only $39.99! Holiday special! the little sign beside it said. “Hey, Vince.”

  The guy turned, his chin lifting as he regarded Sawyer. “My son Jake never stops talking about you and your brother.”

  “All good things, I hope,” Sawyer said.

  “A little hero worship.” Vince turned back toward the helicopter. “He used to make me feel like I was his hero, but since I got married and had the baby, we haven’t had as much time for each other.”

  “Maybe you could hang with Jake at the center even just one night a week, show up an hour early to pick him up.”

  “I’m actually going to be doing that every Monday and Friday from now on,” he said. “Amy—my wife—suggested that. She said Jake talked to her about wanting to spend more time with me.”

  Whoa. Score another gold point for Cole—and Jake for following through.

  “Dammit, I wish I had the money for that copter,” Vince said, staring at it. “Jake would love that. But we’re on a really tight budget. I got him a book he wanted and some temporary tattoos I know he’ll love.” The disappointment on Vince’s face was heartbreaking.

  “Did you know that Jake filled out a gift request on the Holiday Happymakers tree? He asked for a bike. And I happened to get the request. Bike’s in my car. Helmet too.”

  Vince’s eyes widened. “Wow. You bought him a bike?”

  “My brother and I think it would mean more if it came from you—if it’s your Christmas present to him. You be Santa.”

  Vince stared at him. “Why would you do that for me?” He looked down at the ground, and Sawyer knew what he was thinking: Why would you do that for me when I stole from the multiples class—a class I got a free pass to because I had only one baby and made a stink about discrimination against single kids?

  Sawyer smiled inwardly about that. Detective Barelli had had a soft spot for Russtower since he knew him from summer camp or something like that. Sawyer hadn’t been that generous or gracious. And he’d always believed Russtower had stolen the bottles and blanket. But right now, everything seemed to be about second chances. Vince seemed different to Sawyer, though it had barely been six months since that incident. The guy seemed more grounded.

  “Because it’s Christmas,” Sawyer said. “And because you pick up Jake at the center every nig
ht and sling his backpack over your shoulder. You’re there for him, Vince. Maybe not as much as he’d like, but you do have a new baby. You give him that bike. It is from you.” Sawyer extended his hand, and Vince shook it.

  “I don’t know what else to say but thank you. I won’t ever forget this.”

  A few minutes later, the bike and helmet were in Vince Russtower’s car.

  And something else had been transferred—to no one. Something big and heavy. Something that had been pulling him in and under.

  He let out a deep breath and walked along Main Street, thinking about what he could get Maddie. It had to be something very special, like she was.

  An hour later, all he had was a gold heart locket on a delicate chain that he knew she’d love. The locket opened, and she could put tiny photos of her nephews on one side and photos of her sister’s babies when they arrived in February. The locket was nice, but it wasn’t enough.

  He walked up and down the sidewalk on both sides of Main Street, peering into stores, looking through racks and displays. And the more he tried to think of the perfect gift for his wife, the more he realized something else, something he rushed back home to tell her.

  * * *

  Maddie put on the Woodstock earrings Sawyer had given her for her Christmas when they were sixteen. They were incredibly goofy, but the tiny yellow Woodstocks were wearing a green-and-red Christmas sweater, and they’d always made her smile.

  She needed to smile.

  She’d spent the past few hours at home—thinking. And realizing that the greatest gift she could give Sawyer was to let him be who he was. To her, he was a born father, daddy of the year. But for all his reasons, he didn’t want to be.

  What Maddie had finally realized was that she loved Sawyer Wolfe totally and fully and always had, and Sawyer Wolfe had never wanted kids. He’d known this, stated this, never veered from this his entire life. She’d been telling herself this for seven years, but she’d never accepted it.

 

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