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

by Laura Marie Altom

  He’d just snagged the sole box of Froot Loops when the last person he cared to see careened onto the cereal aisle. Not in the mood for Natalie, Wyatt held his ground, doing nothing to acknowledge her other than tip his hat.

  In that snippy, Miss Priss voice of hers she noted, “You are aware your mom and Josie have already stocked enough food at the ranch to survive two winter storms?”

  “Last I checked, they haven’t done squat to fill my pantry.” Whether from windchill or fighting the crowd, the heightened color in Natalie’s cheeks looked good on her.

  “Why stay at your house when your whole family plans on holing up in the main house?”

  On that, he had to chuckle. “Um, let’s just say that fact alone is all I needed to convince me to ride this one out on my own. Ask me, I’ve got too many nieces. The whole damned ranch is overrun with women.”

  She laughed. “Your brothers seem to think that’s a good thing. What about Cash and Luke? Why not use this storm as an opportunity to spend more time with them?”

  Wyatt crammed his hands into his jeans pockets. Good Lord, the woman loved to bicker. “You should’ve been a lawyer.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “’Cause you argue damn near every point I make.”

  “Excuse me.” A wild-haired brunette with a screaming baby hitching a ride in the shopping cart and two whiny toddlers in tow wedged between Wyatt and Natalie, snatching up sugary cereal as if each box were a gold bar.

  “Poor woman,” Natalie noted once she’d left. “Having three that close in age must be rough.”

  Wyatt snorted. “Apparently her man’s never heard of condoms.”

  Only when Natalie’s expression shifted from her usual pinched know-it-all mode to openmouthed shock, and a teary-eyed melancholy that included cupping her hands protectively to her baby bump, did Wyatt realize how his words must’ve stung. Had that been the case with Natalie’s boyfriend, Craig? One wild night with no protection and bam—she’d been knocked up?

  At one time, if Wyatt had found himself with a woman in Natalie’s condition, he’d have married her on the spot. Lately, he’d come to realize he was lucky to not have a future full of kids. Munchkins were loud and sticky and way more trouble than their apparent worth.

  “Wyatt Buckhorn,” Natalie said as if his name were a dirty word, “I hope you lose power and freeze up in that modern monstrosity of a house. But then wait—how could a little cold weather bother you when you already have ice running through your veins? Your family loves you, yet you’re too thickheaded to recognize just how much. Ever think of the obvious by telling them the truth behind why you’re leaving?”

  In a low tone he fired back, “Ever think of keeping my private matters private?”

  “Sorry.” Crossing her arms, she raised her chin. “I just thought it might be nice for the twins to spend a little more time with their uncle.”

  “That might be, but did it ever occur to you I don’t feel capable of spending my last few days here with them? In case you missed the memo, I want nothing more than to lock myself in a kid-free zone—which, considering the ever-growing size of your belly, now includes you.”

  HAD SHE BEEN A CAT, NATALIE could’ve purred with contentment. Wyatt’s forked tongue trapped at the ranch, her groceries put up, the scent of beef stew filling her home with its mouthwatering promise of a hearty meal, a fire crackling in the hearth and a stack of her favorite horror DVDs ready to watch—she was more than ready to ride out what forecasters were now calling a historic blizzard in high style.

  In front of the sofa, she’d set up the card table, and while the opening credits to The Shining rolled, she assembled her scrapbooking materials, determined to finish her mother’s Christmas gift even though Natalie was currently more than a little frustrated with Opal.

  By the time the movie ended, freezing rain had turned to blowing snow. Flakes fell so thick and fast Natalie couldn’t see her neighbor’s home across the street.

  She added a log to the fire then went to the kitchen to check on the stew.

  The wind blew so hard the fifty-year-old house shuddered.

  Josie had invited her to stay at the ranch. There was more than enough room for Natalie to have had her own wing, but lately she’d begun feeling like a third wheel around her friend and doting husband. For all of her harsh words to Wyatt, now that she’d calmed down, she wholly understood his reasons for steering clear of his family. Dallas and Josie. Cash and Wren. Daisy and Luke. So many babies. So many happy endings. The Buckhorns were disgustingly happy and fertile. A pheromone-meter would no doubt spike off the chart!

  With a bowl of stew and crackers in hand, Natalie returned to the living room. Time to really amp up the destruction with Alien.

  On the TV, part of Nostromo’s crew crept through alien pods. The scene never failed to thoroughly freak out Natalie. It reminded her of the time Wyatt and a few of his friends had brought snake eggs to school and they’d hatched in the girls’ locker room. Not cool.

  Rapping on the front door jolted her from the unpleasant memory. Who in their right mind would be out on a night like this?

  She flipped on the porch light and peered out the window.

  Only the window was useless, covered in ice.

  Upon opening the front door, the icy wind’s slap was nothing compared to the shock of seeing Wyatt. His long, wheat-colored duster and cowboy hat were coated with snow. The way he towered over her made him seem like a snowy beast. His dark expression did nothing to help dispel her negative impression.

  “What are you doing? Get inside.” She yanked him by his coat sleeve into the warmth of her home. Though this was the last place she’d ever want him to be, in this weather she’d have offered the same kindness to a side-of-the-road drifter. “Take your snowy things off and stand by the fire.”

  “Wish I could.” He at least took off his hat. His dark hair held the shape and curled against his neck. She ignored her crazy urge to touch it. “Look, there’s no easy way to say this, so I’m just going to blurt it out.”

  Her stomach clenched. “Uh, okay.”

  “My brother and Josie were hit by a tractor-trailer rig. It looks bad. They were—”

  “How bad are we talking?” she asked, her voice sounding distant to her own ears. She couldn’t lose her best friend. She refused. “They’re all right? Please, tell me they’re going to be fine.”

  Lips pressed tight, he took a deep breath and slowly exhaled.

  “Answer me, damn it.” In full panic mode, she pushed his chest.

  He captured her wrists, drawing her against him and holding tight. “I’d give anything to tell you what you want to hear, but last I heard, they’re both pretty banged up. Highway patrol had them airlifted to Saint Francis in Tulsa. They were lucky to have a window through the storm.”

  “What were they doing out by the highway? From school, Josie told me they were going straight home.”

  “Don’t know,” Wyatt said, still holding strong.

  “The twins? And Mabel and Esther?”

  “All fine at the house. But that’s why I’m here. Daisy and Luke took Mom to Tulsa. Wren was called in to work the E.R., so Cash drove her. That leaves me and you to look after the entire Buckhorn brood.”

  “All of them?”

  He nodded. “Kolt’s the only one with them now, so we need to hustle. Pack a bag. Judging by this weather, we may be stuck together for a good, long while.”

  WHILE NATALIE GRABBED clothes and toiletries, Wyatt got her house ready for the storm. He opened the cabinets beneath her bathroom and kitchen sinks, leaving a trickle of water running to protect her pipes from freezing. He dowsed the fire in her hearth and unplugged any electronics that might be hurt by power outages and then the surges that sometimes hit when the current came back on.

  All the while, he prayed.

  As much as Dallas drove Wyatt crazy, as the eldest brother, he’d assumed their father’s role. Yes, if needed, Wyatt could assume those d
uties, but selfishly, he didn’t want to. Dallas had worked hard to achieve his perfect life and he sure as hell didn’t deserve for it to be snatched away from him prematurely. Worse yet, what if Dallas made it okay, only to have Josie die? For Dallas to lose two wives would be more than any man could bear. The twins losing their second mother was inconceivable.

  “I’m ready.” Natalie stood in the shadowy hall, her face blotchy from tears. She held a yellow suitcase that looked like a flower bouquet had exploded across it. Under normal circumstances, Wyatt might’ve given her hell for the ugly thing, but at the moment, he just held out his hand to take it.

  “Oh—” Turning to the kitchen, she said, “I left stew on the stove.”

  “Already packed it to go and washed the pan.”

  Eyes wide, she put her hand to her forehead. “Is this really happening?”

  “Me washing dishes?” He forced a smile. “Do it all the time.”

  “I’m not kidding, Wyatt. Josie’s like a sister to me.”

  “News flash—Dallas is my brother. Trust me, I’m just as concerned as you. But if we lose our cool, where does that leave the kids who are now in our care?”

  She averted her gaze. “You’re right. Let’s go.”

  Slapping his hat on his head and boots on his feet, Wyatt followed her out the door. Odds were his brother and sister-in-law would be fine. Wyatt was the real one in trouble. How was he supposed to survive the night with not only uptight Natalie, but all those screaming kids?

  Outside, horizontal snow pelted Wyatt’s cheeks. The cold was brutal enough to burn his lungs.

  Once Natalie managed to lock the door, Wyatt helped her through the already drifting snow. He’d left the truck running, with the headlights on—a good thing, considering visibility was near zero. He opened her door, helped her inside, then tossed her suitcase on the backseat of the extended cab.

  Behind the wheel, the truck’s warmth came as a relief. There was still comfort to be found in a world gone eerily white.

  “This is crazy,” Natalie said, warming her hands in front of blowing heat vents. “Why were Josie and Dallas out in this?”

  “Wish I knew.” With the truck already in four-wheel drive, Wyatt eased away from the curve, flashing the lights to bright. It didn’t do much to help him see ten feet in front of the bumper.

  Natalie took her phone out, only to tuck it back in her purse. “No service. I need to know what’s going on.”

  “Check mine.” Wyatt fished it from his back pocket, tossing it to her.

  “Nope.”

  Inches slowly turned to miles. Making a left onto the county road leading to the ranch, he glanced Natalie’s way to find her crying. In the lights from the dash tears glistened on her cheeks.

  “They’re going to be fine.”

  “How do you know? How do you even know we’re going to safely make it to your mom’s?”

  Having not seen another vehicle on the road since they’d started, Wyatt felt reasonably safe stopping in the center of the road. Angling to face her, he said, “To be honest, at the moment, I’m not sure how the truck’s even staying on the road. The one thing I am sure of is how much Josie and Dallas love each other and their kids. It’s going to take a hell of a lot more than bad weather or even a barreling semi to keep all of them apart.”

  Tears still falling, Natalie nodded, but Wyatt could tell she was still consumed by fear.

  What he didn’t want her to know was that he was, too. If Dallas died…

  Wyatt honestly didn’t know what he’d do.

  Chapter Five

  “Thanks for the update,” Natalie said two hours later to Georgina on the ranch’s landline. The drive over had been harrowing. Bless Kolt’s heart, in the forty-five minutes it’d taken to make what was typically a fifteen minute drive, he’d kept all of the girls comfy and warm and watching Cinderella. Alas, Natalie knew she and Wyatt were living on borrowed time until the gang realized it’d be a while before their parents got home. “Please call again the second you hear anything new.”

  “How are they?” Wyatt asked from a kitchen table chair.

  Natalie joined him at the table. “Want the good news or bad?”

  “Bad.”

  Josie and Dallas’s injury list was so extensive Natalie had taken notes, which she now consulted. “Y-your brother is unconscious, his right leg is shattered and there were so many other relatively minor issues I lost track.” Swallowing past a hard knot of tears, she continued, “J-Josie is also unconscious with head trauma and a fractured pelvis.”

  Wyatt groaned. “The good?”

  Past a tear-framed exaggerated grin, Natalie said, “They’re both barely alive, but if they survive the night, they should recover within weeks—but possibly months.”

  “Months?” He leaned forward, thumping his head to the table. “Where does that leave us? After this snow, you’ve got school. I leave town in three days.”

  “I can’t speak for you, but as Esther’s godmother, I plan to do what I promised and watch over her for however long it takes.”

  “Yeah, but what about the six other kids?” He didn’t bother raising his head. “I have a work visa that was no easy task to get. An entire crew is depending on me.”

  “Well…” Natalie sighed. “For now, let’s just make it through the storm. After that, no doubt Josie and Dallas will be much improved and roads will be cleared just in time for you to catch your flight.” Nudging his shoulder, she added, “Chin up. It’ll be fun. We’ll make popcorn and roast marshmallows. Time will fly by.”

  “UNCLE WYATT,” BONNIE SAID as Callie and Esther screamed their fool heads off, “you’re a superbad babysitter.”

  “Thanks,” he grumbled. The movie hadn’t even finished and already all hell was breaking loose. While Natalie searched for diapers, Wyatt had been assigned feeding duty. Only he didn’t have a clue what kids this small were even supposed to eat. Horrible with dates, Wyatt figured Callie, Daisy and Luke’s second child, had to be nearly one.

  “Esther only drinks Mommy’s milk,” Betsy announced. “Like from her boobs.”

  Was it wrong for Wyatt to feel a bit faint? Hands bracketing his mouth, he shouted, “Nat!”

  “And see how she’s drooping?” Bonnie noted. “You’re not supposed to put her in the high chair ’cause her neck doesn’t got muscles.”

  “I want cookie!” From her booster seat, Mabel’s wail struck Wyatt square between his eyes. She was Dallas and Josie’s first child together. Wyatt supposed Mabel fell square in the toddler category—old enough to carry out basic skills, but none that truly matter. As if crying weren’t enough, she added kicking her feet and hitting the table with chubby palms. “I want cookie!”

  Robin, Cash and Wren’s daughter who had to be almost three, sat in her booster seat, perfectly calm, but scribbling with a crayon on the oak table.

  “What’s wrong?” Natalie said, out of breath from running down the back stairs. “Did one of the kids get hurt?”

  Kolt looked up from his handheld video game. “Uncle Wyatt almost killed Esther.”

  “Did not,” Wyatt said, taking instant oatmeal from the pantry.

  “We’re having that for dinner?” Betsy asked. “Gross. I’m calling Mommy and Daddy.”

  “You can’t,” Wyatt snapped.

  “Come here, little one.” Voice cotton-soft, Natalie scooped Esther from the high chair, showing off by expertly supporting the infant’s head. “That’s it,” she said with a light jiggle. “Shhh… I’m pretty sure your mom left you some milk in the fridge.”

  Wyatt asked Natalie, “How did I not get the memo Josie was breast-feeding?”

  “My mom did with Callie, too.” Kolt paused his game. “Dad says it’s healthier for the baby and helps them not get ear infections and stuff. But when Callie started biting real bad, Mom quit. Now, she eats whatever we have for dinner—just mashed up.” Taking his sister from her chair, he jiggled her much the same way Natalie handled his cousin. “You
really are kinda bad at this, Uncle Wyatt. What’re you going to do when you have kids?”

  Knowing Kolt meant his question in a perfectly innocent way did little to ease Wyatt’s pain. Hands up in the universal sign of surrender, Wyatt said, “Sorry, folks, but I need a breather.”

  “What’s that?” Bonnie asked. She’d taken a tub of chocolate ice cream from the freezer and was now stabbing it with a spatula.

  “He’s gotta breathe.” Betsy ate strawberry ice cream with a fork. “Like that Brad kid at school who has acksma.”

  “Asthma,” Natalie corrected. “And I don’t think your uncle has that particular affliction.”

  “I want cookie!” Mabel kicked the table so hard her booster seat nearly fell off its chair.

  “Better give her one,” Bonnie said. “She bites.”

  “Cookie! Cookie! Mommy! Cookie!”

  “I know you need your breather,” Natalie said under her breath, passing Esther to Wyatt, “but at the moment, we have more pressing needs.”

  Unbuckling Mabel’s safety belt, Natalie held her, humming a cheery tune while drying the still-huffing child’s tears with a paper towel. “There you go, angel. All better. Once we have dinner, we’ll have cookies for dessert.”

  “I’m having mine now.” Bonnie dredged an Oreo through her ice cream.

  “No, you’re not.” Natalie took the ice cream and cookie.

  “Oooh,” Betsy said, “that wasn’t very nice. Bonnie’s gonna be mad at you.”

  “Yes, I am!” Bonnie chased Natalie to the trash can, but was too late to save her treat. “Betsy, what’s Daddy’s phone number? I’m telling!”

  Having long since put his sister Callie on the floor, Kolt rolled his eyes.

  Wyatt jiggled Esther, but she grew more fitful. “Kolt, help me out. What am I doing wrong?”

  Bonnie said, “She doesn’t like you, Uncle Wyatt. Me, neither.”

  “Wyatt?” Natalie called from the sink, where she used a wet rag to wipe down Betsy’s ice cream–coated face. “Did you bring in my stew from the truck?”