Wyoming Christmas Quadruplets

by Jill Kemerer

  “Of course.” She peeked at the children—all quiet, thankfully. “Each child is assigned a color, and everything will be marked with it.”

  “You mean their clothes?”

  “Yes, we’ll dot the tags with permanent marker.”

  “Most of their clothes don’t have tags.”

  “Well, we’ll figure it out. The clothes aren’t the main thing. We’ll color the bottom of each bottle. And we’ll place stickers on the bouncy seats, car carriers and so on.”

  “Oh, I get it.” He brought his hands behind his head, leaning back. She couldn’t help noticing his muscular arms. “What about pacifiers and stuff?”

  “I think it will be too difficult to separate pacifiers. I guess we could put them into plastic storage bins labeled with their color. We can keep marking the pinkies of Grace and Max with markers, and I think this will be another way for us to keep the twins straight. Especially at bath time when the marker might wash off.”

  “Good idea.”

  “Let’s assign the colors.” She slid out a sheet of red, blue, green and yellow stickers. “Who gets what?”

  “I don’t know.” He tapped his fingertips against his jeans.

  “Who’s the happiest?” It would be fun to match the babies with colors representing their personalities. She waited for Marshall to reply.

  “Easy. Lila.”

  “She gets yellow. It’s the color of sunshine and joy.” Ainsley held up a yellow sticker. She then placed it on a piece of paper and wrote Lila next to it. “Who’s the most energetic?”

  “Ben. Definitely. His cries go from zero to ten like that.” He snapped his fingers.

  “Ben gets red. The color of fire and passion.” She placed the red sticker on the paper and wrote Ben next to it. “What about Grace and Max? Do either show signs of being a peacemaker? Or like they are attentive to the other babies’ feelings? I know this might seem silly considering how young they are.”

  He considered it for a moment. “You know, I think Grace does. I never realized it, but if Max and Ben are crying, she usually joins in.”

  “It bothers her to see her brothers upset.”

  “It’s possible.”

  “She gets green, the color of nature and harmony. Does Max seem to be more stable than the other babies? Trusting?”

  “He’s five weeks old. I really couldn’t say.”

  “You’re right.” She laughed. “Whether it suits him or not, Max gets blue, the color of the sky and stability.” After writing his name, she took out another sheet of stickers, crossed to Marshall and handed him one. “Let’s mark the bouncy seats, then make up bottles for the rest of the night.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He grinned, rising. “You’re not going to ask me to put these on their foreheads, are you?”

  “No, of course not.” She shook her head. Marshall had a good sense of humor. Another trait she admired. She circled the bouncy seats, not seeing a good place to put the stickers. “Where do you think these should go?”

  “Why don’t we put a couple on each? One on the back, and we’ll wrap two around the front legs.”

  They marked the seats and surveyed their work. It was a start. Max’s pacifier fell out, and he made loud grunting noises.

  “I know what that means.” Marshall rolled his eyes. “I’ll take this one.”

  She knelt in front of the other three while he changed Max. They were so little. Smaller than the average baby the same age. They looked like newborns. Humming, she placed her index finger next to Ben’s fist. He flexed his hand, then curled it around her finger. The pacifier bobbed as he sucked on it.

  “You’re a little cutie, aren’t you?” She opened her mouth and made faces at him. His hand tightened around her finger. What a sweetheart.

  Marshall returned, carrying Max. “You’re glad you missed that one.” He waved his hand in front of his nose.

  She chuckled, but it turned into a yawn. It had been a long day of packing, driving and...this.

  “Hey, why don’t you kick up your feet on the sofa and rest? When Belle wakes, I’ll show you to your cabin.”

  “You don’t mind? I’d like nothing more than to cuddle with these sweet babies for a while.”

  “Really?” He frowned as if the concept was foreign to him.

  “Yes.” She unstrapped Ben and took him in her arms; then she unstrapped Grace and brought both babies to the couch. “Infants grow up so fast. I’d like to enjoy this while I can.”

  He blinked, then followed her lead, taking Lila and Max to the other couch.

  Neither spoke for several minutes. The silence gave Ainsley the space she needed to register things she’d missed. The decor was homey. A framed picture of Belle and her husband on their wedding day stood on the end table. The dining room table was stacked with supplies and a pile of what appeared to be unopened mail. In the corner, a laundry basket held stuffed animals and baby toys. Burp cloths and rattles were scattered around it. Two used bottles had rolled under the coffee table.

  This was a warm home, but, from the looks of it, the babies’ arrival had chilled it a bit. She’d tidy everything later. For now, she’d enjoy the wonder of two precious little ones in her arms.

  Babies. How she’d love to have some of her own.

  The jagged scar down her heart throbbed. Love and marriage came before kids. She didn’t know if she had it in her to try that combination—even for children. Love clouded a woman’s judgment. And marriage came with commitment. She couldn’t cut and run from a husband the way she had from her father.

  She’d stick to getting into nursing school. A career could never let her down the way love could.

  * * *

  “What’s so funny?” Belle sounded irritated.

  Marshall peered at his sister over the open refrigerator door later. Her mussed hair and puffy eyes told him she’d woken from a long nap. He hadn’t seen her for hours, not since he’d talked to her about Ainsley staying. Speaking of Ainsley, she was holding one of the girls and had propped bottles up for the other three in their bouncy seats. Not one of them made a peep. Usually they took turns crying all afternoon. But the on-and-off crying session had lasted only forty-five minutes today—all because of Ainsley.

  Maybe with more peace and quiet, Belle would get more involved with them. And maybe the strain between her and Raleigh would go away.

  Marshall stepped back. “Oh, Ben’s tongue curled over his lip when he woke up. He looked silly.” He motioned for Belle. “Check this out. All the bottles you’ll need for the night.”

  “I’ll need?” She popped a hand on her hip and glowered at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  His good mood collapsed. “Let me rephrase that. You and Raleigh will need.”

  “Like Raleigh will do anything.” She pushed her hair behind her ear.

  “Did I hear my name?” Raleigh came in through the back breezeway, his cheeks red from the cold and his hair flattened against his head from the hat he’d taken off. He shivered and rubbed his palms together. “Wait. Something’s different.” He squinted. “Why aren’t the babies crying?”

  Belle studied her fingernails.

  Marshall waved for Raleigh to join him in the living room. “Come and meet Ainsley Draper.”

  “Oh, right, the baby nurse.”

  Ainsley winced as she hauled herself to her feet. Guilt tugged on Marshall’s conscience. She’d been helping with the babies since the minute she’d arrived, and she looked worn out. After Raleigh grinned and wiggled his fingers at the babies, Marshall made the introductions.

  “I sure am glad to have you here, Ainsley.” Raleigh jerked his thumb toward Marshall. “It’s been brutal not having him helping me with the cattle.”

  She smiled politely. Marshall didn’t know what to say. These were Raleigh’s babies, for crying out loud. Di
dn’t the man care that the quadruplets needed him more than the cows did? He had other ranch hands. It wasn’t as if Marshall was indispensable out there.

  “Seeing how the ladies have the babies under control, you’ll be out tomorrow to prep for the cattle sale, right?” The tall, lean man with piercing blue eyes had tough written all over him. Raleigh had grown up on this ranch working the land with his father.

  “No, Raleigh, he won’t.” Belle charged into the room. “Marshall promised he’d be around to help Ainsley.”

  “Why can’t you?” he asked quietly, a defiant glint in his eyes.

  “I can’t believe you even asked that.”

  Marshall could feel the tension building. Grace’s bottle rolled out of her mouth and she began to cry.

  “See what you did?” Belle pointed to the baby, then to Raleigh. “She was fine until you marched in here. You’re so loud.”

  “Come on,” Marshall said to Ainsley. He knew where this was heading, and he didn’t want Ainsley getting any more reasons to leave. “It’s been a long day. I’ll show you to your cabin.”

  She nodded, setting Lila in her seat before going to the hall to get her coat and bag.

  He glanced over his shoulder. “Belle, there’s a casserole from one of the church ladies in the oven. Give it thirty minutes. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “You’re leaving?”

  He didn’t respond. Instead, he swiped his coat and cowboy hat before ushering Ainsley outside. He led the way to her car. After opening the door for her and waiting for her to get in, he leaned over. “Follow the drive around the house and stay left. You’ll see a row of cabins. Park in front of the first one. I’ll unlock it for you.”

  “Don’t you want a ride?”

  “Nah, I like the fresh air. Clears my head.” He straightened and shut her door.

  Once her engine started, he hiked down the driveway to the cabins. Darkness had fallen, and the wind drove small snow pellets to the ground. He shrugged into his jacket collar and shoved his hands into his pockets.

  What was going on between Belle and Raleigh? Part of him wanted to rush back to the house and make sure she was okay. But Raleigh had never gotten physical with her, unlike their mother’s boyfriends. Still, Marshall didn’t like the dynamic he’d been seeing lately. Raleigh seemed to resent Belle, and Belle sassed him on a regular basis. Not that Marshall blamed her...

  He sighed. He’d keep trying to do his best to make life easier on them. He’d quit a job he’d enjoyed to help out with the quads, and it wasn’t like Belle had planned on having four babies at once. Who could have predicted the two embryos implanted would split into two sets of identical twins?

  Belle needed him.

  And he’d be there for her. Even if he didn’t like the ranch life very much and wasn’t good at baby care.

  Ainsley’s car passed him, and he pushed his legs to move faster. When he reached her cabin, she was standing behind the open trunk. He unlocked the front door of her cabin and adjusted the thermostat higher. He’d stopped in last night to give it a quick cleaning. The one-bedroom log structure should meet her needs.

  The stomping of feet made him pivot. Snow outlined her shoes on the mat inside the front door. She passed through the short hallway lined with a bench and hooks for coats and scarves.

  “This is cute.” She craned her neck side to side to take the space in.

  The gleaming log walls gave it a cozy feel. Lighter hardwood floors matched the wooden beams of the ceiling. The right half of the room consisted of a square wooden table with two chairs next to the rustic kitchenette. The left half was a living area with a tan-and-white-checked couch, recliner, coffee table and a television on a stand. Windows hid behind tan curtains on each wall, and area rugs protected feet from the chill.

  “Here, let me get your bags.” He took the suitcases from her grasp, his fingers brushing hers in the process. A surge of warmth raced up his arms. “Follow me. I’ll give you the tour. Dining. Living. Kitchen. Sorry, no dishwasher, but everything else works fine. Anything not on the open shelves, you’ll find in the cupboards.” He strode through the small space to the back. “Bathroom to the right. Bedroom to the left.”

  “Oh, I wasn’t expecting this.” She set her purse on the bed. With her finger trailing the puffy white duvet, she rounded the footboard and pushed open the curtains of one of the windows in the snug bedroom. “It’s lovely.”

  He lined her suitcases against the wall and stepped back to survey it. He supposed she was right. The white curtains had a tan curlicue design. Fluffy white rugs were on the floor—nothing a cowboy would buy for sure.

  “I’m guessing I have a view of the mountains during the daytime.” She let the curtain fall across the window again.

  “You sure do. I have the same view. I’m right next door.”

  Her long lashes curled to her eyebrows, and those green-gold eyes arrested him, made him lose his train of thought. Now that he was putting two and two together, this cabin was feminine like her. His had the same layout, but his beams and floor were dark like the walls, and the furniture was masculine. In the months he’d lived on Dushane Ranch, no one had ever stayed in this cabin. Until now.

  She looked like she belonged here.

  His female interaction had been limited to Belle for longer than he cared to admit. And now was not a good time for that to change.

  He hooked his thumbs in his belt loops. “I’ll let you get settled. Come next door in, say, thirty minutes. I’ll have supper waiting for you.” He spun on his heel to leave.

  “You don’t have to make me supper.”

  He strode to the entrance, wishing her words were true. Would make life easier if he wasn’t around someone so pretty and nice, but he would be, and he couldn’t let her starve.

  “It’s no trouble. There are only a few dried goods in here.” He tipped his hat to her. “See you in half an hour.”

  Out on the porch, the clean, frigid air froze his nostrils, and he almost laughed. Winter in Wyoming. Good thing he didn’t mind cold weather. Too bad he didn’t like the situation he was in. Cowboying for his tough-as-nails brother-in-law. Soothing his poor sister. Caring for his nephews and nieces. And fighting an unanticipated attraction to the baby nurse.

  He must be out of his mind to stay.

  What was the alternative? He’d rather be here with Belle and his nieces and nephews than out there with no one.

  Being out of his mind beat being lonely any day of the week.

  * * *

  What a bizarre day.

  Ainsley finished stacking her sweaters, leggings and jeans in the dresser, then went to the living room and sprawled out on the couch. She still had fifteen minutes before heading next door. After hours of baby care and trying to make sense of Belle’s baffling behavior, Ainsley wasn’t sure what to think of being the baby nurse on Dushane Ranch. Was Belle really just tired, or was she neglecting her children? Maybe Marshall could give her some insight about his sister tonight.

  It would give her something to think about other than the fact she would be eating with the hunky cowboy who impressed her with his devotion. Frankly, he seemed a little too good to be true.

  The man must have a flaw.

  They all did.

  She took in the room. A soothing retreat. Unfussy. The furniture was neutral, the wooden walls and floors inviting. Even the open shelves in the kitchen pleased the eye with their collection of white dishes. She’d enjoy coming home to this every day.

  She had a feeling she was going to need a restful place to decompress each night. The babies were not a problem as far as she was concerned. Their parents on the other hand...

  Belle and Raleigh were already stressing her out, and she’d been here less than twenty-four hours. She’d never been around a mother who wasn’t hovering over her infant. Sure, quadruplets were vastl
y different from one child, but shouldn’t Belle have shown a sliver of interest in holding and feeding them? She’d practically thrown Lila into Ainsley’s arms earlier before vanishing.

  Then there was Raleigh. Typical rancher. The man probably paid more attention to the calves in the pastures than his own babies. Ainsley was used to men like him. Her father had been cut from the same cloth. He’d worked on several ranches when she was little.

  Thinking about her dad always pinched her heart. He loved her in his own way. She loved him, too. But she hadn’t been able to stick around and watch him destroy his life. His love for her had never matched his love of alcohol.

  Leaving him had been like stabbing a knife in her own heart. It still hurt. Probably always would.

  She glanced at her watch. The fifteen minutes were up. She shoved her feet into boots, eased into her coat, then strolled next door. A path through the snow had been cleared between the cabins. About twenty feet separated their porch steps. Her spirits lightened as she watched her breath materialize in wispy puffs. One of the wonders of winter.

  His porch light was on, and a shovel with snow caked on the bottom was propped against the side rail. The man was thoughtful. Another thing to add to his growing list of virtues.

  She knocked on the door and heard, “coming,” and then Marshall stood before her with a ladle in hand. He grinned. “You didn’t get lost.”

  “It wasn’t hard to find.” She gave him a smile, taking off her coat and boots. She blew on her hands. “What can I help with?”

  “You can set the table.” He backtracked to the kitchenette, identical to hers, except everything in this cabin was dark wood. The place reeked of masculinity. While it suited him, she preferred her pretty space.

  Plates, bowls, silverware and paper napkins had been piled near the edge of the table. She made up two place settings. The unmistakable aroma of chili filled the air. He tossed her a pot holder, and she caught it, setting it on the table.

  “Hope you’re not a vegetarian,” he said.

  “Isn’t that illegal in Wyoming?”

  His laugh was low and hearty. It sent flutters through her chest. After carrying the chili to the table, he hustled back to the oven and pulled out a cast-iron pan of corn bread.