by Jill Kemerer
A nanny at Christmastime...
Will she find love in this Wyoming Cowboys novel?
Six weeks on a ranch caring for quadruplets—aspiring nurse Ainsley Draper’s prepared for a busy Christmas. When the children’s handsome uncle opens the door, her task gets extra complicated. Marshall Graham is upholding his promise to look after his twin sister, the babies’ mom. But as family loyalty clashes with new love, will the perfect present include a future with Ainsley?
“And what are your Christmas dreams?”
Marshall strained for her answer. But Ainsley shook her head.
“They don’t matter. I take life one dream at a time. I’m glad to be here with the babies. And after Christmas my real dreams will begin. I want the job in the ICU. Then, hopefully, I’ll get into the nursing program. Everything else is icing on one of these gingerbread cookies.”
Why he felt let down, he couldn’t say. Maybe he’d hoped he could play a small part in her Christmas dreams.
“And now I get to ask if you have any Christmas dreams of your own.” Her face glowed.
“Well, I would like to sneak one of those cookies after we ice them.”
She laughed, the sound joyous and tinkling. “I think I can arrange that.”
Spending the afternoon and evening with Ainsley was all the Christmas dream he needed. Dreams never worked out all that great for him anyhow. But if he did have one, it would be for this time with Ainsley to last.
Wanting more was a dangerous thing.
Jill Kemerer writes novels with love, humor and faith. Besides spoiling her minidachshund and keeping up with her busy kids, Jill reads stacks of books, lives for her morning coffee and gushes over fluffy animals. She resides in Ohio with her husband and two children. Jill loves connecting with readers, so please visit her website, jillkemerer.com, or contact her at PO Box 2802, Whitehouse, OH 43571.
Books by Jill Kemerer
Love Inspired
Wyoming Cowboys
The Rancher’s Mistletoe Bride
Reunited with the Bull Rider
Wyoming Christmas Quadruplets
Small-Town Bachelor
Unexpected Family
Her Small-Town Romance
Yuletide Redemption
Hometown Hero’s Redemption
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WYOMING CHRISTMAS QUADRUPLETS
Jill Kemerer
The Lord thy God in the midst of thee is mighty; he will save, he will rejoice over thee with joy; he will rest in his love, he will joy over thee with singing.
—Zephaniah 3:17
For all the parents and caregivers of multiples. May you be blessed.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Epilogue
Dear Reader
Excerpt from Their Family Legacy by Lorraine Beatty
Chapter One
“Belle, would you get the door?” Marshall Graham held Ben in one arm and Max in the other. Both infants were crying as if they hadn’t eaten in hours. He’d tried to give them bottles fifteen minutes ago, but Ben had barely touched his, and Max hadn’t taken an ounce. The knocking on the front door persisted. “Belle!”
Grace joined in the chorus of wails. Great. Marshall glanced at the twin girls strapped in bouncy seats on the living room floor. Not you, too, Lila. So far, the most laid-back of the quadruplets merely blinked and shifted her tiny feet. Thank You, God, for one calm baby. Throw me some mercy with the other three. I’m drowning here.
The temperature in their remote part of Wyoming had dropped overnight, and if the baby nurse was outside, he’d better get her indoors before she changed her mind about taking the job. Since Belle hadn’t stirred from her room, Marshall debated what to do. Set the twins down? Attempt to answer the door? The wind howled, the crying became more urgent and his heart pounded like wild horses across the prairie. Before last week he’d never taken care of even one baby, let alone four.
He was terrible at this.
Gently bouncing both boys in an attempt to soothe them, he hurried to the entrance. Shifting Ben, Marshall unlocked the door and opened it.
The young woman standing on the doormat had sparkling green-gold eyes and a heart-shaped face. A red stocking cap topped with a pom-pom covered her long honey-blond hair. She smiled, and he did a double take. He hadn’t expected such an attractive woman to show up. The ratcheting cries didn’t let him linger on her appearance, though.
“Come in.” Marshall stepped aside for her to hang up her coat. “Follow me.”
He hurried to the open-concept living area, then looked down at the boys, their faces screwed up in distress. Now what? He was as close to surrender as he’d ever been.
“Let me.” Her soothing voice held authority. She took Max from him and made cooing noises. The baby calmed immediately, staring at her with one teardrop hanging from the outer edge of his eyelashes. “Aw, he’s precious. So tiny and sweet.”
Tiny, sweet and completely beyond him.
“Oh, you are a darling, aren’t you?” She cradled him and turned to Marshall, her eyes glowing with compassion. “I’m Ainsley Draper.”
“Marshall Graham.” He nodded gruffly. Ben was still crying, and Grace was, as well. Indecision made him hesitate. Did he pick up Grace? Or set Ben down so he could prepare more bottles? Were the babies even hungry? Did any of them need to be changed? Burped? Rocked? Anxiety gripped his torso, tying him in knots.
With Max in her arms, Ainsley carefully lowered herself to kneel in front of the girls. She made silly, kissy faces at them. Grace quieted, her tiny lips wobbling as she watched Ainsley. “Where is your wife?”
Wife? It had been years since he’d had a girlfriend, and he’d never had a wife.
“I’m not married.” Marshall placed Ben in a bouncy seat and locked the strap. The baby arched his back and cried louder. “These are my nieces and nephews. I’m helping my twin sister, Belle, and her husband, Raleigh, adjust to life with quadruplets.”
Adjust was one way of putting it. Ever since Belle had given birth to the two sets of identical twins five weeks ago, Marshall had been trying to help her any way he could. It was the least he could do given their miserable childhood. Although the quads had been home from the hospital for only a week, he was this close to running out to the barns and telling Raleigh it was his turn to deal with the infants. Marshall would rather check cattle for hours on end than change another diaper, which was saying something considering he didn’t relish his duties as a cowboy.
For the umpteenth time he wondered if his best friends, Clint, Nash and Wade, were right—maybe he shouldn’t be working as a ranch hand for Belle’s husband.
But memories rushed back of him and Belle when they were thirteen and fighting off abuse from their mother’s latest live-in boyfriend. Marshall had tried to stand up for Belle...and look where it had gotten him.
Separ
ated from his twin. Sent to a group home for boys. Unable to protect Belle from that man.
He would never, ever let his sister down again.
“Oh, so you’re just here for a few days or something?” She moved Max to her other arm and turned Ben’s bouncy seat so he could face the girls. She began talking to Ben in a low, melodic voice. His crying ceased, followed by a pitiful sigh and a hiccup.
“How did you do that?” Marshall’s arms dropped to his sides as he stared at the back of Ainsley’s golden hair. She’d been there for—what, three minutes?—and she’d already quieted all four babies.
He suddenly understood the meaning of baby whisperer.
She peeked back over her shoulder at him. “Do what?”
“Get them to stop crying. I don’t think the house has been this quiet in a week.”
She laughed, the sound filling the air with tinkling joy. “I’ve been babysitting since I was twelve, and I worked at a day care center for years. I have a lot of experience. I will say quadruplets are a first for me, though.”
“For me, too.”
A flash of understanding passed between them, and he got lost in her pretty eyes. All the tension of being thrust into the role of babysitter dissolved. Help had arrived. He didn’t have to do this alone anymore.
He gestured to the kitchen. “I’ll get the bottles.”
“Is it time to feed them?” She’d turned back to the babies and was strapping Max in the fourth bouncy seat.
“I don’t know. What do you mean?”
“Are they on a schedule? When was the last time they ate?”
“I feed them constantly, but they barely eat anything, if that makes sense. All I do is prep bottles and try to feed them, then another fusses, and it’s just...” He didn’t bother finishing. He’d always considered himself self-reliant, but the past days had driven him to his limit.
“The sooner we get them on a schedule, the better. I’m assuming their mother is resting?”
Belle was resting all right. And avoiding her children along with the real world. He pinched the bridge of his nose. That wasn’t fair. She was recovering from their births and needed extra help and a lot of patience.
“Why don’t you get the bottles and then tell me their names? We’ll feed them together.”
Relief jolted through him. He loped to the kitchen and measured out the formula. When the bottles were ready, he tightened both hands around all four and returned to the living room. Ainsley had wrapped Lila and Grace in lightweight blankets. A pastel baby quilt was spread out between the couches, and Ainsley had propped each girl on the infant support pillows he’d never figured out what to do with. All the babies were getting fussy by the time she swaddled Ben.
“Go ahead and feed the girls.” Holding Ben, she took the other two infant support pillows out of the pile of baby paraphernalia in the corner. Within a few minutes, all four babies were snuggled on the floor, happily eating. Marshall held the girls’ bottles while Ainsley held the boys’.
“I can’t believe it.” He glanced at Ainsley, sitting a few feet from him on the floor. “They’re all eating at the same time. None of them are crying.”
“Yeah, isn’t it great?” She grinned. “They’re so itty-bitty. Tell me about them. What are their names? Are there any health problems I should know about?”
“They’re all healthy. Each one weighs around six and a half pounds, except for Lila. She’s the smallest of the bunch.” He pointed to one of the girls. “By the way, this one’s Lila.” He continued down the row. “Grace is here. That’s Ben. And Max is next to him.”
“How do you tell them apart?”
Heat rushed up his neck. His method was probably stupid.
“Don’t laugh, but every morning I mark Grace’s pinkie nail with a Sharpie. And I mark Max’s with one, too. It’s simple to tell the boys from the girls.”
She chuckled. “Smart. I would have done the same, except I would have used nail polish.”
“Nail polish might be better. I have to reapply the marker often.”
“Well, I’m sure these sweethearts will be napping before we know it. Then you can introduce me to your sister, and she can go over the babies’ care with me.”
He tried not to grimace. He supposed her reaction was normal. Of course a baby nurse would expect the mother to go over the infants’ needs with her. But Belle had barely lifted a finger to deal with the children since they’d come home from the hospital last week. If Ainsley was looking for guidance from his sister, she was going to be disappointed. He hoped Belle didn’t make a scene. If Ainsley left, he didn’t know what he would do.
* * *
She’d been there for two hours and still hadn’t caught sight of the babies’ parents. Was Marshall the only one taking care of them?
Ainsley carried Max and Ben down a hallway to a bedroom with four white cribs. Marshall held the sleeping girls and carefully set them in the same crib. He hitched his chin for her to put the boys into one with navy sheets. When she’d gotten them settled, she tiptoed out of the room with Marshall at her heels.
Her initial plan of meeting the mother and father, going over the babies’ schedules and getting a tour of the place before crashing in her room for a while clearly wasn’t happening. The long drive from Laramie had wiped her out, but she’d be able to rest later. She hoped so, at least.
She made her way to the living room, swiping up empty bottles and taking them to the kitchen. The sink overflowed with dirty dishes. Half-filled baby bottles littered the counter. A canister of baby formula powder with the cover off was next to the coffeemaker.
“Uh, sorry it’s such a mess.” Marshall slapped the formula cover on, then opened the dishwasher and unloaded the top shelf. “Been chaotic around here.”
“I’m sure.” Maybe she was overreacting about not meeting the actual parents. His sister might have had complications from the birth. Now wasn’t the time to make snap judgments. She’d simply do her best to figure out what was going on. “So it sounds like you’ve been really hands-on with the quads. Is their mother having a hard time with recovery?”
“Um, I guess.” He didn’t look her way as he shoved dirty plates into the dishwasher. “I don’t know much about that stuff.”
No, the gorgeous cowboy in front of her couldn’t be expected to know about recovering from birth, could he? His formfitting black T-shirt had a drip of spit-up on the sleeve. A belt buckle with a tractor on it kept his jeans in place. She could easily picture a cowboy hat on top of his short dark hair. She wasn’t sure if his stubble was the result of not having time to shave or if he kept it that way on purpose. Either way, it added to his appeal. Or maybe the fact he’d been holding two tiny babies when he’d opened the door earlier made him a solid ten in her eyes.
A man who protected the helpless was an attractive man indeed.
If Marshall had told her he was the quadruplets’ father, she would have quit. It wouldn’t be fair to the babies’ mother or father to have a nurse who had the hots for their daddy. But since he was their uncle and single, she could stay with no guilt on her conscience. It wasn’t as if she was looking for romance, anyhow. After Christmas her sole focus would be on going back to Laramie, getting into the nursing program and finishing her degree.
“How long do they usually nap?” She peered around for the typical infant supplies. No clean bottles were lined up. She didn’t see a container with nipples or pacifiers. Where were the bottle brushes?
“Nap?” He finished loading the dishwasher, popped in a cleaning tab and pressed the start button. “They don’t usually sleep at the same time.”
“What do you mean?” She circled him to get to the sink and began filling it with hot water. Unscrewing the bottles, she dumped out the old formula into the adjoining basin before tossing them into the soapy water.
“It depends on when
they’re eating. It’s like if one is sleeping, another is hungry.”
She checked under the sink for cleaning supplies. A bottle brush and a package of rubber gloves hid behind the dish soap. She slid on a pair of gloves and began washing the bottles.
“How does your sister manage them?”
“Belle?” He wiped his hands on a towel and leaned against the counter. “She’s been real tired.”
She rinsed the first bottle and looked around for a place to set it. “Do you have a bottle dryer? Or dish towel?”
“Yes. Here.” He flicked open a drawer and grabbed two dish towels. Slung one over his arm and spread out the other next to the sink. “I’ll take that. If you wash, I’ll rinse.”
“What about their father? Does anyone else come in to help? A night nurse? Grandmother? Anyone?”
She watched him out of the corner of her eye. The muscle in his cheek leaped.
“No, Raleigh is busy. I wish his mother could have been here to help with the little ones, but she died last year. He inherited Dushane Ranch and has his hands full keeping it going, so he can’t be in here all day with the babies. And Belle and I don’t have a mother anymore. That’s why I hired you.”
He hired her? “I thought the babies’ parents hired me.”
“They’ll be glad you’re here. When Dottie Lavert told me she knew someone who might be willing to help for a while, I asked her to contact you.”
“Dottie made it sound as if your sister—Belle—wanted me to come.” A sense of foreboding spilled over her. If neither parent was stepping up to their responsibilities for these babies, Ainsley could be put in a no-win situation. “I don’t want Belle resenting me.”
“She won’t. Look, Belle was desperate for these children. She’s going through a rough patch, but she’ll be thankful to have you helping with them.” He rinsed the bottles and placed them on the towel to dry.
Somehow, Ainsley wasn’t so sure. Something didn’t seem quite right on Dushane Ranch.
“So let me make sure I’ve got this straight.” She washed the final bottle. “You’re taking care of the babies pretty much by yourself?”