A Wyoming Christmas to Remember

by Melissa Senate

“Put your arms out like mine are,” Sawyer said. “Make sure you support his neck with your hand or forearm. That’s vital until their neck muscles get stronger. You said you held the babies in the hospital, right?”

  “Yeah. For almost an hour. I tried to keep it even between them, but I think I held one longer.”

  Sawyer smiled. “We’ve been trying to keep things even too. Doesn’t always work out, though. Max likes his sleep, so Shane gets more stories and back rubs while I pace the nursery.”

  Cole eyed him. “You been doing a lot of pacing?”

  “What do you think?” Sawyer asked, but this tone was a lot gentler that it had been earlier. He transferred Shane into Cole’s arms, and Cole sucked in a breath and then sat down very slowly and carefully on the sofa. His gaze never left his son’s face.

  Sawyer wasn’t sure what he’d expected this evening to be like, but it wasn’t this. He’d never seen Cole so...vulnerable. Then again, yes, he had. Many times when Cole was a kid. And even sometimes as an adult—when Sawyer was patient enough to truly pay attention to the underpinnings of what was going on with Cole.

  Complicated.

  Max let out another wail, and Sawyer grabbed the basket of baby stuff from under the coffee table and set it down beside the carrier on the rug, then took out Max. He laid him down on the mat and changed him, aware that Cole’s eyes were on him.

  “You make it look so easy,” Cole said. “I’m sure I’d put the diaper on upside down or backward.”

  “I think I did, too, the first time,” Sawyer admitted with a smile. He really had, actually. With Max changed, Sawyer scooped him up and sat down on the other side of the sofa.

  “I’m sorry for just leaving the way I did,” Cole said, staring straight ahead now.

  “You talking to me or them?”

  Cole glanced at Sawyer. “All of you. I am sorry. I was just freaking out. In a panic.”

  “I know.” But what now? You’re visiting tonight, coming for dinner tomorrow and then what? Sawyer usually didn’t need to have his life mapped out for him, but he didn’t like the not knowing, the vague quality about all this. There was a big maybe about a very vital issue. And Sawyer didn’t like it.

  Maddie came into the living room with two bottles. She sat between the brothers, handing a bottle to Sawyer and then turning toward Cole with the other one. “Here you go. You just hold it angled up, and he’ll drink.”

  Cole took the bottle and hesitated. “What if he drinks too much at once and it pours down his throat too fast?”

  “Can’t happen,” Maddie assured him. “Max controls the flow by sucking on the nipple. Give it a try.”

  Cole brought the bottle to Max’s lips and angled it as Maddie had said.

  “A little higher,” Maddie said, tipping up the bottle a bit.

  “He’s drinking!” Cole exclaimed, looking at Maddie and Sawyer for a moment, then back down at his son.

  Sawyer sighed inwardly. Something told him Cole was just too much of a kid, despite being twenty-seven, to be anyone’s dad, let alone twin newborns. He might be wrong. And yeah, baby care was brand-new to Cole, and who was to say he wouldn’t pick it up and be a master at it. Times two. Could happen.

  Except Sawyer didn’t see it. Because he was a cynical, world-weary cop? Or because he was realistic and called it as he saw it?

  Or because he didn’t want it to be true?

  “You’re doing it just right, Cole,” Maddie said with a warm smile.

  “How do I know when he’s done?” Cole asked. “Will he drink the whole bottle?”

  “When he’s done or if he needs to burp,” Maddie explained, “he’ll stop suckling or pause longer between suckles. You’ll be able to see it.”

  “I think he’s done,” Cole said, removing the bottle and putting it onto the coffee table. Max gazed up at Cole, seemingly satisfied with the world.

  “Now slip a hand under his neck and bring him up to your chest, holding him vertically, and gently pat his back so he can burp.”

  It took Cole a good few minutes to do that, but he managed it, widening his eyes at Maddie and Sawyer. He gave Max a few pats, and the baby let out a giant burp. Cole burst out laughing. “I did it!” Cole said. “Champion burper,” he added. He looked at Maddie. “Now what do I do?”

  “You can hold him upright or along your arm, a little of both, so he’s not always one way. He’ll let you know when he wants to be shifted. Babies love to squirm or cry with displeasure.”

  Cole smiled. “He seems pretty happy right now.”

  “Sure does,” Maddie agreed.

  Cole glanced around the living room, his gaze stopping on the double bassinets, the baby swings, the baskets of baby paraphernalia. “There are some events at the rodeo I’m thinking of signing up for,” he said. “It would bring in a good amount of money.”

  “Except you don’t want to do anything that would risk injury,” Sawyer pointed out. “Because of the physical nature of your job, you need to be in top shape. And you’ve got these two to consider.”

  “Bronc-riding prize is a good one,” Cole said. “And I’m pretty good.”

  “Takes one time to get injured,” Sawyer said, his tone sharp.

  “Says the guy who risks his life every day for a living,” Cole said.

  Sawyer brought Shane up to his chest and patted his back. “I’m not anyone’s dad.”

  “You’re someone’s husband,” Cole said, glaring at Sawyer.

  A red hot pool of anger swirled in Sawyer’s belly. He got up and walked with Shane over to the window, looking out. Whatever you want to snap back at him, don’t. Just shut up. He’ll be gone in five minutes anyway.

  And back tomorrow for dinner.

  Sawyer let out a breath.

  “Cole, can I ask you something personal?” Maddie said.

  What was this? He turned around, his gaze on his wife.

  “I guess,” Cole said.

  “I’m curious about the names you chose for your sons. Max and Shane. Did you name them after anyone?”

  Sawyer walked back over to the sofa and sat down. He was curious about that too. Maybe it was just a coincidence that the initials matched his and Maddie’s.

  “Yeah, I did,” Cole said. “The two best people I know.” He didn’t look at Sawyer or Maddie and seemed kind of embarrassed, which told Cole the initials were no coincidence. “I named them for you and Sawyer,” he added, looking over at his brother for a moment.

  All the ire that had been in Sawyer’s stomach a few moments ago dissipated, and something like compassion took its place. Something else, too, that Sawyer couldn’t quite put his finger on. He’d never get a handle on his brother—who he was, really, what he was made of.

  No one is all this or all that, he reminded himself. But it made it easier to box up Cole if he were.

  “That’s beautiful,” Maddie said. “Thank you. We’re very touched, both of us.”

  “You touched, Sawyer?” Cole asked with a bit of the glare still in his expression.

  “I thought it was nice,” Sawyer said. “Meaningful. That’s a better word.”

  Cole looked at him and nodded. “Good.” He stood up slowly. “Well, I should get back. I said I’d do some extra chores in the barn at night for overtime.” He gestured toward Maddie as though he wanted to hand the baby over, and Maddie took Max. Cole headed toward the door as if he couldn’t wait to get the hell out of there.

  It was a lot, he’d give his brother that. Sawyer well remembered the first night the twins had been here, and he hadn’t exactly known what he was doing himself.

  Maddie and Sawyer, babies in their arms, followed Cole to the door. He opened the closet and got his jacket and scarf, shrugging them on.

  “See you tomorrow at seven for dinner,” Cole said, then took another look at Shane and Max and hurried
out.

  A moment later, Sawyer could hear the annoying muffler roaring to life. “At least he’ll be able to get that fixed now,” he said.

  “Sawyer Wolfe, is that all you have to say?” Maddie snapped, one eyebrow up high.

  “There’s a whole history between me and Cole you don’t remember,” he said, then regretted it instantly. That wasn’t exactly her fault. Cripes.

  “What matters is right now and the future,” she pointed out.

  He nodded slowly. She was right—to a point. The whole picture mattered, just as it mattered within their marriage.

  He just had no idea what was going to happen. And it was killing him.

  Chapter Eleven

  They’d both made themselves scarce the rest of the evening, Sawyer in his study, stewing—or at least that was what Maddie thought he was doing—and Maddie organizing her closet, then cleaning the bathroom, then remaking the already made bed.

  Finally, she’d exhausted herself. She’d already been wiped out mentally from Cole’s unexpected visit, and now she was physically zonked too. She slipped into bed, pulled up the comforter under her neck and stared at the ceiling, wondering if Sawyer would be coming up anytime soon. Probably more like after 1:00 a.m. when he figured she’d be asleep.

  Forget that noise, she thought, a little adrenaline racing as she got out of bed, stuffed her feet into her furry slippers and went downstairs to find her husband.

  She stopped dead in her tracks in the doorway of his study. He was sitting in his desk chair, back toward the door, flipping through photos on his computer—of himself and Cole. One filled the screen of him and Cole as young adults, making cannonballs into a lake or river.

  Sawyer could be hardheaded, but the man wasn’t hard-hearted. His brother meant a lot to him, problems and all, and instead of focusing on the bad times, he was clearly immersing himself in the good ones.

  “Hey,” she said softly, the ire completely out of her.

  He turned around. “Hi. I was just going back in time, I guess.”

  “You two had some really nice moments, from the looks of the photos.”

  “Few and far between,” he said. “But yeah. Like this one.”

  She walked over and put her hands on the chair back, peering at the photo. “Did I take that?”

  “Yup. The water was cold so you didn’t want to go in, but Cole and I dared each other. And of course we couldn’t just dive in.”

  She smiled. “You okay?”

  He gave something of a shrug, and she leaned closer to massage his shoulders. “Oh, that feels good. Thank you.”

  She kept massaging, loving the feel of his strong shoulders and thinking about the other night when they’d been so drawn to each other that they’d made love against their better judgment.

  “I can’t see Cole as a full-time father,” he said, letting his head drop back. “Can you?”

  “With time, maybe. He does seem very far from that. But necessity is the mother of invention, isn’t that what they say?”

  “For some people. For others, people like Cole, necessity means taking off to avoid responsibility.”

  She felt a knot in his left shoulder and kneaded a bit on that spot. “But he does seem to be trying, at least. He put care into finding this job, something he’s passionate about, too, and one that comes with room and board. He’s working, trying to build something for himself—and very likely, the twins.”

  “That build is going to be a while, though. He’s not taking the twins for a long time, Maddie. In fact, I’d say years. Maybe never.”

  She stopped massaging and turned his chair around to face her. “And how do you feel about that?”

  “I’d rather those boys I’ve come to care very deeply about are with people who will raise them with everything they need.”

  “And what’s that?” she asked.

  “Devotion. Commitment. Responsibility. We’re a solid family in a solid home.”

  Except a week ago we were on the verge of separating.

  She glanced at the photo, then back at Sawyer. “I think he wants to turn his life around and become a dad. That’s the sense I got. But you’re right that I don’t have the full picture. I don’t remember how he’s behaved in the past. What you said about stealing from us? Taking my grandmother’s bracelet? That’s pretty bad.” She could only imagine how that had hurt Sawyer, what it had cost him to harden himself the way he had after—Cole had finally crossed a line for Sawyer.

  He nodded. “It’s possible that having children, being a father got to him. But wanting to change and changing are very different things.”

  “Let’s go up to bed,” she said, reaching out her hand. “I was exhausted before I came down, and now I might fall asleep on the floor in here right now.”

  She was so glad she had come down after him instead of wondering and worrying by herself in bed or pulling the covers over her head. Now they’d talked and she felt better and was sure he did too.

  He smiled and stood and wrapped her in a hug. He smelled delicious. She could stay like this all night—and would, if he’d carry her and she could sleep in his arms.

  Upstairs, she got back into bed, and when he emerged from the bathroom in a T-shirt and sweats, he looked so incredibly sexy.

  “Think I was too hard on him?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. A little. Or maybe not. Maybe he needs someone being tough on him. Someone he knows cares. You heard what he said. We’re the best people he knows.” She smiled, recalling the reverence in Cole’s voice as he’d said it.

  Sawyer got into bed beside her, his gaze on the ceiling, hands behind his head. “He says stuff like that, and for half a second, it wipes away all the bad. I forget the theft, the lies. And then he turns around and ruins it five minutes later.”

  “He did okay tonight. I thought he was sincere.”

  He turned onto his side, propping his head on his elbow. “Seemed so. I don’t know. I can’t see him taking the twins anytime soon.”

  “You sound kind of glad about that,” she said, facing him. “Are you?”

  “They belong with us, Maddie. He’s not remotely prepared to care for them. Not now or the immediate future.”

  “People can change.”

  “I didn’t,” he blurted out and then froze for a second as he seemed to realize he wasn’t doing himself any favors.

  He hadn’t changed his position in seven years of marriage. He didn’t want children. But he seemed comfortable with the idea of permanently keeping the twins.

  Why?

  She stared at him, feeling her eyes narrowing to slits as a thought occurred to her.

  “You’re comfortable keeping the twins because they’re your nephews,” she said. “Yes. That’s it, isn’t it? They’re not your children. There’ll always be that line there. So you’re able to deal. Oh, and I get to be the ‘mom’ I’ve always wanted to be.”

  He tensed, moving onto his back and staring at the ceiling again, his hands folded over his chest.

  She sat up. “Do I have that right?”

  She knew she did.

  “It’s complicated, Maddie. I don’t have all the answers right now. And everything is very new.”

  “Now you sound like Cole. Not okay for him but okay for you?”

  He grabbed his pillow and walked out of the room.

  Maddie turned onto her side and stared at her Woodstock alarm clock.

  She wondered how many nights they’d slept in separate rooms. Those memories hadn’t come back yet. But now she had a fresh one.

  * * *

  If you have to be stubborn at your own expense, that’s bad enough, Sawyer remembered April MacLeod saying a time or two over the years. But being stubborn at others’ expense and taking them down with you? No good.

  He’d heard his mother-in-law�
��s raspy voice in his head as he lay on the sofa in the living room, the throw barely big enough to cover up to his chest, Moose on the floor beside him. It had gotten him off the couch and back up the stairs not ten minutes after stomping down. Maddie didn’t deserve this kind of treatment, him stalking off with his pillow because she was being too honest for him.

  When he’d gotten into bed next to her and spooned against her, wondering if she’d shift away from him, he’d been relieved when she’d taken his hand and held it tightly.

  “We love each other and we’ll figure it all out,” he’d whispered, then mentally kicked himself for saying something he’s said at least twenty times the past year. Even if Maddie couldn’t remember any of those times, she also deserved better than platitudes, but right then he’d been unable to come up with answers to her earlier questions.

  Was she right? He was okay with raising the twins—and he was okay with that—because they weren’t his children? He’d wanted to say, If I’m raising them, they’re mine. Just like they’re yours, but he knew what Maddie had meant, even if he couldn’t articulate the difference. Did the word nephews make it possible for Sawyer to create an emotional distance between the twins and himself?

  The morning didn’t bring clarity either. Maddie was out of the room when he woke up, the bright sun barely blocked by the curtains. He listened for the sound of her voice downstairs, talking to the twins as he always did, but there was silence.

  He got out of bed and went downstairs and looked around. No Maddie. No twins. He headed into the kitchen, where he was sure he’d find a note leaning in front of the coffee maker—he drank a lot of coffee these days—and there it was.

  Took the twins out early for breakfast with my parents and then to hang out at MacLeod’s for a little while. Might do some Christmas shopping after. I’ll text you. PS. I let Moose out and fed him. —M

  Moose now stared at him forlornly, missing her too. Sawyer had been hoping they’d spend the day together. To try to make up for yesterday, for the way they’d argued and his immature stomp off downstairs, though he had rectified that, and she’d welcomed him back with one squeeze of her hand. Maybe he should let her have a little space from him, since that was what she seemed to want this morning. They could meet up for Christmas shopping, since he wanted to buy for the family he’d “adopted” for Christmas, getting everything on their list and a whole lot more, plus start looking around at bicycles for Jake. Tonight, before the dinner with Cole, he’d volunteer at the community center and surreptitiously find out what kind of bike he wanted and what color.