by Jill Kemerer
The only heart getting broken would be his.
Chapter Ten
Ainsley had to do a better job at distancing herself emotionally from the babies...and from Marshall. Time was running short. She’d be gone, and they’d be here, and she wouldn’t be spending her evenings eating dinner with Marshall anymore. Maybe scolding herself for the seventy-fifth time would make it sink in. She’d programmed the thought on auto-play days ago, and it still hadn’t gotten through.
Here it was, almost five on Thursday, and Grace and Ben were as cranky as could be. Ainsley held one in each arm and bounced them. She hoped they would be happy tomorrow when the photographer arrived. Belle had seemed excited about the idea of having their photos taken when Ainsley asked her about it on Monday. And Ainsley had been relieved to find out the babies were scheduled to see the doctor after Christmas.
Ben let out a squawk.
She ground her teeth as she glanced at the Christmas tree in the front window. It still wasn’t decorated. She and Marshall had set the boxes of ornaments next to it after getting it ready last weekend. Why hadn’t Raleigh and Belle decorated it? It wouldn’t take more than an hour to get the bulbs up.
Grace let out a cry, and Ainsley strolled around the room, gently bouncing the babies as she went.
Everything about that undecorated tree annoyed her right now.
Actually, life in general irritated her.
Her cell phone rang.
What now? She let out a long-suffering sigh. She could call to Belle, but the swish-swish of the treadmill told her it would be futile. The woman had been working out all week—more than once a day. At first, Ainsley had thought it was a step in the right direction. But she’d soon realized it had become a new excuse to avoid dealing with the children.
She made her way to the end table and checked the phone. Didn’t recognize the number.
Her weary body yelled to ignore it, but...what if it was her father? She’d kept the same cell phone number all these years on the off chance he’d finally call her.
Hope mingled with dread.
The holidays had always seemed to make him worse. What if it was someone telling her that her lifelong fear had come true—her dad had drank himself to death? She could barely stand the thought.
She had to answer it.
After setting Grace and Ben on a baby blanket on the floor, she answered the phone. “Hello?”
Both infants started crying loudly. Frantically, she looked around for their pacifiers while trying to shush them.
“Ainsley Draper? This is Beth Leopald from Ivinson Memorial Hospital.”
Her heart stopped beating momentarily, then it tripped over itself it was beating so fast. The hospital! The job!
“Hi, it’s great to hear from you.” She found the pacifiers and gave one to each baby. Thankfully, they quieted down.
Beth continued. “We’ve made a decision, and we’re offering you the position. Are you still available to begin the first week of January?”
She’d gotten the job!
“Yes, I am available.”
“Good. I’ll give Peg Denton your number to set up a training schedule. As for your salary...”
They discussed the job particulars for several minutes before ending the call. Then she let out a whoop.
The swish-swish slowed, and Belle appeared, toweling off her neck. “What’s going on?”
“I got the job at the hospital!” Ainsley lifted her hands. “Aaah!”
The color drained from Belle’s face.
“Belle?” Ainsley crossed over to her. “Are you okay? Come. Sit down.” She led her to the couch and urged her to sit.
“I guess this means you’ll be leaving.”
Ainsley bristled at her accusing tone. Wasn’t she happy for her?
“Not until the end of the month.”
Belle stood abruptly and began to pace. Her color returned. “Well, now that I’m exercising, I’ll be fine with the babies.”
“If you’re concerned, why don’t you stay out here with us now? It will help you get adjusted.”
“I don’t need to get adjusted,” she snapped. “I know how to do this.”
“Then why don’t you?” She hadn’t meant to say it, but maybe it needed to be asked.
“Because...”
Ainsley waited, hoping Belle would say something that made sense, that explained her baffling behavior in terms that didn’t scream postpartum depression.
“Because we pay you to do it.” She stuck her nose in the air.
Really? She wanted to shout in frustration. Instead, she counted to three. “I think you should consider seeing a doctor.”
“And I think you should mind your own business.”
“A lot of new mothers deal with postpartum depression.”
“I’m not depressed.”
“It’s especially common for mothers of multiples. A doctor could help. There are medications—”
Belle huffed. “Is that what you want? Me to be drugged up?”
“Of course not! I want you to enjoy your babies.”
“Well, I already do, so let’s drop it.”
Ainsley clenched her jaw. “Fine.”
“Fine.” Belle narrowed her eyes. “The baby outfits for the photo shoot arrived. Have them ready tomorrow by four thirty.” Then she sailed out of the room. Two beeps and the swish-swish of the treadmill met Ainsley’s ears.
Wow. Had Belle really just gone there?
She should quit. Walk into that woman’s room and tell her off.
Ainsley looked down at four innocent faces. They’d captured her heart. Ben, Max, Lila and Grace meant more to her than she wanted to admit.
She’d make it through the holidays, drive back to Laramie and never look back.
Well, maybe she’d look back now and then. She cared too much about the quadruplets to ever forget them.
And Marshall?
She doubted she had it in her to forget him. She wasn’t sure she even wanted to. But from now on, she couldn’t linger at his place after dinner. She’d been getting too close to him. The job in Laramie was hers. Her life wasn’t here, and Marshall’s was. The sooner she made peace with it, the better.
* * *
In the summer, he tolerated ranch work, but in the winter? He could take the cold for only so long before dreading the job. Today had been particularly cold and miserable. Last year at this time, he’d been protected from the wind in a pole barn in southern Wyoming. He could still feel the grease from the engine parts as he’d puzzled over why the tractor wouldn’t run. The week before he’d worked on a drill rig, which had been fun. He’d been fascinated by all the moving parts. Now the only thing he looked forward to was his dinners with Ainsley. In Cheyenne after Belle had left, he’d dreaded evenings, but living here, they’d become his favorite time of the day.
As he strode through the barn, he couldn’t help growing nostalgic for the smell of tools and oil and metal. The stench of manure had never measured up.
When he emerged into the fresh air, he broke into a jog. Dusk was falling, and he’d put chicken and noodles in the slow cooker this morning. Every afternoon he stopped at the main house for an hour to help with the babies, but he looked forward to his relaxing dinners with Ainsley more than the time with the quads.
Like chocolate syrup on vanilla ice cream, she made life richer, sweeter.
After letting himself into his cabin, he took a short hot shower and changed into jeans and a gray sweatshirt. He heard her knock as he ran a comb through his wet hair.
He opened the door and let her in. She had a radiance about her, like she’d been dipped in happy powder.
“Guess what?” She practically tore off her coat.
“What?”
“The hospital called and offered me the job!”
&
nbsp; Disappointment fell to his toes faster than a lug wrench slipping from his grasp.
“That’s great.” He forced a smile on his face, but he doubted he was fooling her with it. He’d known she was leaving. She was never meant to stay. So why did it hurt so much hearing it confirmed?
“This is going to give me the boost I need to be accepted into nursing school this year. I can feel it.”
He could picture her smiling at patients in her scrubs, and a wave of jealousy hit him so hard he was surprised he didn’t fall over.
“You’ll get in.” He turned away, not wanting her to see what was likely written all over his face. He cared about her. Wanted her to stay. Couldn’t imagine what life here would be like without her around. Moving to the kitchen, he distracted himself with dinner. He turned off the slow cooker and brought the chicken and noodles to the table.
Ainsley began putting the silverware down. “By the way, Belle and I had an argument earlier. I think it’s only fair to warn you I told her to see a doctor about postpartum depression.”
A stabbing pain shot through his chest, and his pulse raced. The postpartum depression subject had not been received well when he’d mentioned it a few weeks ago. He could imagine how Belle took it this time.
“For the record, she told me to mind my own business.” Ainsley took a seat and folded her hands on the table. “Also, she’s been exercising all week.”
“That’s good.” He joined her, but from her tone, the exercise thing didn’t sound positive.
“Normally I would agree with you, but in this case, I don’t think it’s helping. She’s merely using it to avoid taking care of the children.”
Too many things were coming at him at once. He ladled out food for each of them.
“Exercising has to be better than sleeping all the time.” He folded his hands and waited for Ainsley to pray over the meal. When she’d finished, she poked her spoon around the bowl.
“It’s not, Marshall.” Her pretty eyes filled with empathy. “We’ve got to get her on board with the babies soon, and I don’t know how it will happen if no one will admit the obvious. Belle needs to see a doctor.”
His spoon slipped from his fingers to the table, and he leaned back, wiping his stubble with his hand. He wanted her to stop talking. Or to at least stop badgering him about Belle and the doctor. His sister wouldn’t listen. And he couldn’t make her.
“I know you don’t want to hear this—” her voice was low, quiet “—but with Christmas around the corner and me leaving soon after that...the sooner she gets help, the better.”
He didn’t know what to say. Belle wasn’t going to agree to see the doctor. He had no solution up his sleeve.
“Just think about it.” She took a bite of her food. “Mmm...this is delicious. You’ve outdone yourself.”
“Thanks.” He’d lost his appetite. And the more he thought about it, the more he resented being put on the spot about his sister. “She’s getting better, you know.”
She blinked, then captured his gaze. “Is she? How can you tell?”
“She...” He thought back on the past weeks. “It’s in the facts. I don’t go over there at night anymore. She and Raleigh are getting along better. The babies don’t cry all day. You and I don’t help on Sundays.”
Ainsley tucked her lips under, avoiding eye contact.
“We’ve just transferred the baby care, spread it around,” she said. “Raleigh is on night duty. I take care of them all day. Your sister is not better. She simply has more help now.”
“And she should have more help. Especially if what you’re saying is true.” He slid his finger under his collar. His cabin had gone from warm to blazing.
“I’m not saying this to make you mad or to get into a fight.” She sat straighter, setting her spoon down.
“Then why are you saying it?” He hated how harsh he sounded, but he couldn’t help it.
Her eyes widened as if she’d had a lightbulb moment. He dreaded whatever she was about to say.
“I’m not your mother, Marshall. You can trust me. You couldn’t trust her because she ignored the truth and made you pay the price. She put Belle in danger. But I’m trying to protect your sister. Don’t be like your mother and ignore reality because it’s more convenient. I think we both know if Belle doesn’t get help, you’ll be the one raising the children after I leave. That’s a high price to pay.”
Each word hit him in the gut. Was she comparing him to his mother? No. No way. And to suggest he didn’t care about his sister? He crumpled his napkin and threw it on the table.
“That’s the difference between you and me. I don’t put a price on raising children.” He regretted the words instantly. Her stricken face made him regret them even more. Why would he say that? What was wrong with him?
She pushed away from the table and stood. “Did you ever stop and think maybe I meant it was a high price for Belle to pay? She’s their mother. She wanted those babies. And if she doesn’t start taking care of them, she won’t be close to her own flesh and blood.”
With that, she crossed to the hall, put her boots on, unhooked her coat and walked out the door.
The click of the latch froze him in place. All he could do was stare ahead.
He was not ignoring reality.
He got up, almost knocking over the chair as he did. His sister was fine. They’d had a weak, delusional mother. Belle probably didn’t even know how to be a parent. Ainsley was wrong. Yeah, he’d have to help Belle out more after Ainsley left, but big deal. That’s what family did. They helped each other.
“Don’t ignore reality...”
He braced his hands against the kitchen counter. He had Belle’s best interests in mind. Always had. He’d sacrificed for her before, and he would again. If Ainsley didn’t understand it, well...
Maybe it was best for all of them she would be leaving soon.
* * *
Why did she even bother trying to help?
Ainsley stalked back and forth in front of her muted television later that night. She’d called Tara after leaving Marshall’s, and Tara had agreed with her. Marshall, Raleigh and Belle were living in a fantasy world, one that would come crashing down sooner rather than later. Ainsley didn’t want to be here when it did.
But she didn’t want to leave either.
Marshall’s words had cut right to the marrow. Didn’t he have any idea how much she wanted a family of her own? She thought of Belle, who at this moment could be cherishing her babies but was probably power walking on the treadmill. Or Raleigh, out prowling the pastures when his offspring could use a cuddle. Marshall was no better. He acted like he was Mr. Caring, but was it really caring to watch a loved one fall into an abyss and miss out on the best things in life?
Hardly.
She sat back on the couch and clutched a throw pillow to her stomach. Belle treated her like the hired help—which she was—but she didn’t appreciate the condescension. And Marshall accused her of taking care of the babies only for the money.
Emotion pressed against the backs of her eyes. Didn’t he notice she’d gone above and beyond her duties to help Belle get engaged with her children? And what about the ways she’d tried to help—babysitting and setting up the Christmas tree and lining up tomorrow’s photo shoot?
No one appreciated her.
She’d done so much for them. She cared about them. She wanted the babies to have a wonderful life.
Squeezing her eyes shut, she willed away the tears. This wasn’t worth it. Being the baby nurse for the Dushanes had always been a temporary gig.
Why did she feel the need to save every hurting thing that landed in her path? They never wanted her help—not her father, not Belle, not Marshall. So why did she keep putting herself out there? Why did she want to help people who refused to take responsibility for their actions?
She tossed the pillow to the side. At least Marshall had shown his true feelings tonight. She’d been growing too close to him. All the times taking care of the babies together, dinners, church services and sharing their pasts—mistakes. And now that she had the hospital job locked and a clear idea of Marshall’s view of her, she would spend the rest of her time here emotionally detaching herself from him.
She’d done it with her father—and it had been the hardest thing she’d ever done. The second time would be easier. But could she allow Lila, Grace, Max and Ben to be the collateral damage?
For three years she’d repeated “Let go and let God” time and again.
Maybe it was time she played out the role Belle and Marshall had put her in. She was only the paid baby nurse after all.
She had a feeling it was going to be another lousy Christmas, and she’d had twenty-three of them already.
What was one more?
Next year would be different. Next year, she’d be working at the hospital and partway through the nursing program.
And she’d forget about Marshall...next year.
Chapter Eleven
“They’re the sweetest things I’ve ever seen.” Amy held Lila.
“Precious!” Lexi cradled Max.
Ainsley, holding Ben and Grace, grinned as the ladies oohed and aahed over the quadruplets. The photographer had finished packing her equipment, and Belle chatted with the redhead as she prepared to leave.
“I think my favorite was the one where they were lined up on the fluffy blanket under the Christmas tree...” Amy bit her knuckle, shaking her head. “I can’t wait to see the entire set when they’re developed.”
“Me, too.” Ainsley glanced at Belle, who’d just joined them. Belle had been gracious and pleasant to Amy and Lexi ever since they’d arrived. She’d thanked them for the casseroles they brought. She also hadn’t said one word to Ainsley all day.
“Well, as much as I hate to leave these little dumplings, I have to get back.” Lexi caressed Max’s head. “Where should I put him?”
“Um...” Belle had a panicked air about her, but she led her to the bouncy seats. “Just put him in there. It’s about time for the babies to eat.”