A Baby in His Stocking (5 page)

 

“I'
M SORRY
.” I
N THE
teacher's lounge Tuesday morning, Josie covered Natalie's hand. “What is it with the old guard of this town believing a woman can't—or shouldn't—raise a child on her own? This is the same kind of thing Georgina pulled with Dallas and me. I never pegged Opal and Bud to be so judgmental.”

Nodding, Natalie forced down a bite of her peanut butter and honey sandwich. “They tried cloaking their condemnation with concern. I knew better. Their expressions weren't all that different from when I got caught with beer on prom night.”

“Wasn't Wyatt nabbed in that massive bust, too?” Josie finished her egg salad.

Natalie snorted. “I'd forgotten my brief satisfaction when Principal Ving shone his flashlight smack between Wyatt's beady eyes.”

“He doesn't have beady eyes.” Munching a dill pickle, Josie said, “Point of fact, they're a delicious shade of fudge-brown.”

“Whatever.” Natalie focused on the walnut brownie she'd brought for dessert. All right, so even back in high school Natalie had found Wyatt's gaze mesmerizing. That didn't make her any less put out with him for his attitude at their last few meetings. On a positive note, he'd soon be gone for a nice, long time.

“So what's your plan for handling your parents?”

“There's nothing much I can do.” Handing Josie her second pint-size carton of milk to open, she added,
“Unless you consider a marriage of convenience to be a viable option. In which case, I'll hire a husband—but it'll have to be on credit, as what little cash I have is earmarked for the baby.”

“You know Dallas and I will help any way we can. From clothes to a crib to diapers, you name it and it's yours.” Josie, being a kindergarten teacher, was a master at opening milk. Unfortunately, she'd been so busy with her task that she'd missed Natalie's sour expression. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.”

“Playing devil's advocate,” Josie said, “let's say you were able to find a man who wanted nothing more than to love you and be a father to your child. Are you saying you wouldn't marry him?”

“I'm not saying that. And I'm more than a little miffed you'd even suggest it. But read my lips—men are scum.” Natalie wadded the remains of her lunch into a ball of brown paper bag and plastic wrap. Standing, she pitched her trash in the bin alongside the microwave stand. “See you later for bus duty.”

“Aw, Nat…” Josie went to her, ambushing her in another hug. “I'm sorry. Don't be mad. The thing is, now that I have kids, I know how impossible it would be for me to raise them without Dallas's help.”

“That's you. Like I told my folks, Craig destroyed what little remained of my heart. I was a fool to believe I could change him. Even more of a fool to try. Maybe I'm just as delusional to believe I can raise this baby on my own?”

“Calm down,” Josie urged when Natalie was finally getting to the core of the matter. Was she capable of endless rounds of early morning feedings and furniture assembly and deciphering every little noise the baby
made? “We still have plenty of time to figure things out. And if by your third trimester you happen to meet Prince Charming, I'll help with that, too.”

Palms pressed to the wood door, Natalie pushed it open, welcoming the hall's cooler air.

“Nat, wait,” Josie pleaded.

The professional counselor in Natalie knew she shouldn't be among students until regaining control of her emotions, but at the moment the sad, scared, exhausted pregnant woman she'd become lacked the energy to care.

Why did everyone in her life seem to think all she had to do was hook up with a guy and her every worry would vanish at the end of a rainbow-crowned unicorn trail? Why couldn't they understand that while the mere thought of raising her child alone could send her racing to the bathroom with another bout of nausea, the prospect of losing herself in another dead-end relationship hurt even more.

 

T
HREE DAYS
.

That was all the time Wyatt had remaining until he could get the hell out of town. If he possessed one lick of smarts, he'd have hopped an early flight out of Tulsa bound for a sunny interim beach. As it was, in anticipation of an upcoming winter storm, he battled the crowds in Reasor's grocery, stocking up on enough toilet paper, milk, Doritos and beer to get him through the next few days.

Used to be, he would've used a snowstorm as an opportunity for an extended sleepover at the home of his most current blonde. After all, if he had to be stuck inside, riding out a storm, he might as well have someone cuddly on hand to keep him warm.

Maybe he was getting too old for short-term hookups, or maybe he had a case of boredom, but try as he might Wyatt hadn't made a single call to secure a storm
buddy.
Truth was, he was antsy to get started on this new chapter of his life and until then, he wanted to be left alone.

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.”

 

H
AD SHE BEEN A CAT
, N
ATALIE
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 ig
nored 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.”

 

W
HILE
N
ATALIE GRABBED
clothes and toiletries, Wyatt got her house ready for the storm. He opened the cabi
nets 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 duties, 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.”