“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.”
Ainsley almost snorted. Belle said it as if she was on top of their feedings, not Ainsley. Well, tonight, the woman was in for a surprise.
Amy set Lila in a bouncy seat, and Ainsley strapped Ben and Grace into theirs, as well. Then she followed them to the front door.
“Lexi, thank you for setting this up,” Ainsley said. “And, Amy, thanks for coming.”
Belle was at their heels. “Yes, thank you for everything.”
Lexi and Amy hugged Belle and Ainsley, then left.
As soon as the door shut, Belle started heading to her room. Ainsley glared at her retreating figure. She checked her watch. After six o’clock. Quitting time.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Belle.” She put her shoes on.
Belle spun around. “What are you talking about? The babies need to be fed.”
“It’s fifteen minutes past quitting time.”
“It won’t take long to warm their bottles and—”
“Yep. It won’t take long for you to feed them. Oh, and, by the way, you should really decorate the Christmas tree. Good night.” With sure strides, she went through the kitchen and out the back door.
Belle opened it behind her. “Get back here!”
Ainsley lifted her hand in a backward wave and didn’t stop until she reached her cabin. She frowned at the cabin next door. Marshall hadn’t stopped by the main house at his regular time. And dinner with him was clearly out after their argument last night.
She went inside her cabin and changed into her favorite sweatpants and a pale pink sweatshirt. She didn’t need Marshall to entertain her. She’d make a grilled cheese and come up with a list of everything she needed to do for the holidays.
After eating the sandwich, she curled up on the couch with a blanket and a notepad. She hadn’t bought Tara a gift yet. Maybe on Sunday she’d pop into the mercantile Belle had mentioned that had cute gifts. And she wanted to get each of the babies a present, too. Maybe a keepsake. Did anyone in town make personalized ornaments? She’d have to check.
She couldn’t think of anything else left to do. Besides making the gingerbread ornaments, watching her favorite movies, buying a few gifts and going to church on Christmas Eve, she didn’t have any other holiday traditions.
She took a candy cane down from the tree and sucked on the peppermint. Tasted like Christmas. Her thoughts drifted to her dad.
She used to buy him gifts. And he’d open them on Christmas morning and thank her, hug her and she’d feel like everything would be all right. But it never lasted. The good mood usually collapsed hours later when he cracked open his first beer.
Where was her dad now?
Did he regret not seeing her? Did he even care that she’d left?
What did he do on Christmas?
Loneliness draped over her like a lead blanket. She got up and made herself a cup of tea. A thump, thump on the door made her jump.
She opened it, and her heart beat faster.
Marshall.
* * *
“Can I come in?” Marshall stood on her doorstep, his nerves jangling worse than Raleigh’s key ring to the outbuildings. The past twenty-four hours had been eating him alive. He had to apologize.
She didn’t answer, just opened the door wider and stepped back. He entered, and she returned to the couch, looking young and beautiful and miserable as she pulled the cream blanket over her legs.
“I’m sorry, Ainsley.”
She didn’t answer.
He forced his feet forward and stood before her. “What I said last night was unforgivable. I know how much you care about the babies. I know how hard you work. You’ve been generous with your time in countless ways, and I deserve a boot in the rear for my stupid words. You’re a good person. One of the best I’ve ever met. And I hate that I hurt you.”
A tiny sigh escaped her lips, and it was the saddest sound he’d heard in ages. He dropped his forehead to his hand. What was he doing? He’d messed up too badly. He couldn’t expect her to forgive him.
“Thank you, Marshall. Apology accepted.”
He snapped his head up. “Just like that?”
She nodded, but her eyes were still melancholy.
“I wish I could go back and shut my dumb mouth.” He’d give about anything to see her smile.
“It’s okay, really.” She tucked her hair behind her ear.
“No, it’s not. I can see you’re upset.” He sat next to her on the couch. Took her hand in his. “I’m really sorry.”
“I know.” Her voice cracked. Was she going to cry? She looked away. “I’m just down tonight.”
“Why?” He caressed her hand with his thumb.
“A couple of reasons. Nothing, really.”
He turned her chin to face him. “It’s something. Tell me. I don’t like to see you this way.”
She swallowed. “I guess it’s lonely sometimes.”
“What is?” He couldn’t tear his gaze away from her lips.
“Being me.”
He took in her silky blond hair, big shining eyes, the pastel sweatshirt she wore and pink socks peeking out below the blanket. He wanted to take her loneliness and fling it out the window. This exquisite woman with a heart bigger than the Wyoming sky meant so much to him.
He loved her.
His lungs locked up.
Love? No. Uh-uh.
She toyed with the blanket. “I try not to think of my dad, but I wonder what he’s doing now. Who will he spend Christmas with? Will he be sober long enough to know it’s a holiday? Is he...” Worry pinched her face.
He wanted to kiss her. Take away her pain. But he wouldn’t. Couldn’t.
“Do you have any way of reaching him?” he asked.
“Yes and no.” She rocked back and forth slightly. “He checks in with two ranchers from time to time. They promised to call me if anything were to happen.”
He hadn’t considered her father still weighed on her mind. She’d made it seem like she’d cut ties and that was that.
He should have known better. Even after his mother betrayed him, he’d hoped she would come to Yearling Group Home and bring him back to live with them. He’d indulged in so many fantasies where she’d fall to her knees and apologize, beg him to forgive her. But she’d never even visited.
“I don’t expect you to believe me, but I understand that kind of loneliness.”
She met his eyes then, and a spark shimmered. “I know. I believe you.”
He pulled her into his arms and held her tightly. Her hair tickled his cheek, and he knew he’d never forget the way she felt. Everything about her was soft, and if he had his way, he’d keep her in his arms forever.
She eased out of the hug, her face inches from his.
Slowly, he brought his lips closer, never breaking eye contact. Her pupils widened. And he pressed his lips to hers.
Peppermint. She tasted like a candy cane.
She tentatively returned his kiss, and he sensed her courage and longing. Or maybe the longing was his, because he’d never needed a woman the way he did her.
He broke away from the kiss and scrambled to his feet.
He could long for her, love her even, but he couldn’t need her.
“I’m... I... I didn’t mean to...” He turned his back to her. How could he have done something so stupid? It was bad enough he loved her. But to kiss her? Dumb, dumb, dumb.
“We can’t.” She’d stood, too, and she walked in jerky movements over to her Christmas tree. “I didn’t mean to either.”
Why wasn’t relief plunging through him? Why did he feel so let down?
“Uh, I’ll get out of here.” He knew his face was flaming red. “Do you still want a ride Sunday? I mean, I won’t...” He was losing it. He hadn’t stammered this much in years.
“Yeah. Sure.” She spun to face him, her eyes wide. “Oh, wait. I was going to do some Christmas shopping after. I’d better drive myself.”
“Oh, okay. No problem.” He hurried to the door. “I’ll see you later.”
He let himself out and practically ran to his cabin.
What a colossal mistake.
He’d made some big ones in his life, but this ranked right up there.
Kissing Ainsley, loving her, was out of the question.
He let the cold seep into his bones as he stared at his door. Then he slowly turned, taking in the stillness of the winter night.
It gave him no peace.
The wide-open spaces imprisoned him.
His heart did, too. How was he going to stop loving Ainsley? He had no future with her. If he was honest with himself, he didn’t have much of a future at all.
* * *
What a terrible development.
Ainsley brought her fingers to her lips as soon as Marshall left. She wanted to memorize his kiss—the faint taste of mouthwash, the undemanding pressure of his lips against hers. She’d sensed something hidden inside him—the longing to be valued and understood. Everything she needed to know about Marshall Graham, she’d learned from his kiss.
Had he ever been cherished? Loved?
She didn’t think so.
But whether he knew it or not, that had changed.
Because she loved him. Cherished him.
But she couldn’t love Marshall. She had plans. Dreams. Life goals—in Laramie. Not here.
And it didn’t take a genius to understand Marshall would never love her the way she loved him. She padded back to the couch and snatched up her notepad and pen.
Her only option was to get through the next couple of weeks with her heart guarded.
She wasn’t letting her dreams slip away this time.