Ainsley slipped out of her boots in the main house the following Friday morning. The babies were starting to stir and the rest of the house was quiet. Today she was flushing Belle out of her room and keeping her out. Ainsley would walk her through all the baby care even if it meant taking the bedroom door off the hinges... Well, that was extreme. No taking doors off hinges.
The routine comforted her. She truly was blessed the babies had taken to the schedule so well. If only the adults on the ranch would get with the program...
She had assumed Raleigh was getting up sometime in the early-morning hours with the babies to feed them since the infants typically grew hungry later in the morning. However, all week Ainsley had watched Marshall hurry up the path to the house at 5:00 a.m. She’d first caught him doing it on Monday. The wind had woken her out of her slumber and she hadn’t been able to get back to sleep. She’d finally given up and gone into the living room to read the Bible. She’d peeked out the window to see if fresh snow had fallen, and there Marshall was, chin tucked into the collar of his jacket, hands jammed into his pockets as he strode along the path. When they’d eaten dinner that night, she’d almost asked him about it, but something held her back.
Out of curiosity she began setting her alarm to go off before five. Every day he headed up to the main house. Why wouldn’t he let Raleigh or Belle handle the children? And what else was he keeping a secret?
The upside to her new wake-up time was she’d carved out a special hour to study the Bible and pray. The early session centered her and let her fully enjoy her morning coffee. In fact she’d had three cups this morning in preparation for her mission.
“Belle?” She strode straight to her bedroom door and knocked. “I need to show you something.”
They had less than thirty minutes before the babies would get fussy. She knocked again.
“Belle, wake up. Can you come out here?”
The door opened a sliver. “What do you want?”
“You!” She plastered on her happiest smile. “Throw on some sweats and join me. I’d like to show you something.”
“Can’t it wait?”
Ainsley wouldn’t get annoyed. No sirree, she would not. “Nope.”
“Fine. I’ll be right out.”
“Good,” Ainsley said. “Want a cup of coffee?”
“Yes, please.”
“Cream or sugar?”
“Both. Lots of both.”
“You got it.” Ainsley went to the kitchen, popped a pod into the Keurig and set a cute pink mug under it. Humming to herself, she reviewed the baby charts from yesterday. No new entries. As usual.
It was time to change that. She studied the counter—used bottles from last night had been carelessly strewn about. The bin of binkies was half-full. Normally, she’d do a quick spin around the living room, picking up pacifiers, burp cloths and such. Then she’d clean any dirty bottles and prepare a full day’s worth before getting the babies out of their cribs.
But today she was waiting for Belle. Christmas was a few weeks away. Ainsley wasn’t doing the new mom any favors by shielding her from the reality of baby care.
Three more minutes ticked by. You’re not escaping me this time, Belle Dushane.
Ainsley poured cream and sugar into Belle’s mug and marched back to the bedroom door. “Coffee’s ready, Belle.”
One one thousand. Two one thousand. Three one thousand. Four...
The door opened and Belle came out. Her thick black hair was pulled back in a ponytail, her face was scrubbed clean and she wore a loose-fitting long-sleeve T-shirt with black yoga pants. She looked young and pretty. Ainsley ignored her stony expression.
“How do you manage to look so cute in the morning? I resemble a ratty old stuffed animal. Never mind. I’m going to walk you through the morning prep.” Ainsley extended her arm for Belle to lead the way. She didn’t trust that the woman wouldn’t escape if left to her own devices. “Your coffee is on the counter.”
“Thanks.” In the kitchen, Belle lifted the mug. “Why haven’t you gotten the babies up?”
“I’m glad you asked,” Ainsley said brightly. “I don’t get them up before they awake. We’re so blessed the little ones took to the schedule.”
Belle frowned, sipping her coffee.
“When I arrive each morning, I spend five minutes tidying the living room. Then I come in here and wash any dirty bottles as well as the binkies. Would you grab the canister of formula and bring it over?”
Ainsley was on pins and needles waiting for her response. But Belle brought the formula over. Ainsley set the bin containing all the clean bottles on the counter. Then she washed her hands.
“I always make six bottles for each baby. As you know, Ben gets red, Max gets blue, Grace gets green and Lila gets yellow.” She held up the bottom of four bottles so Belle could see the color markings. “I fill them with water to this line, then pour the scoops of formula in. You just screw the nipple on and shake for several seconds. Then I repeat until they’re all ready. Stick them in the fridge and you’re good to go. Here, you try.”
Belle took a bottle, started filling it with water and held it up. “Is this enough?”
“Um, a little more. Try to get it to the line. It doesn’t have to be perfect.” Ainsley wanted to pinch herself. Belle was actually out here, making bottles! “Yep, now pour the scoops in. That’s right. Here’s a nipple.” She held out the small plastic bin. Belle selected one. “Shake.”
Belle shook it for a while. “That’s it?”
“Easy-peasy.” She nodded. “Let’s knock the rest out. It only takes a few minutes.”
Together they filled the rest of the bottles and lined them in the fridge. Then Ainsley took the chart over to the dining table. Belle followed, grunting as she sat in a chair. She continued drinking her coffee.
“The babies seem to be doing well on the four-hour rotation. When they get bigger, they’ll sleep for longer stretches at night but you’ll want to keep feeding them every four hours during the day. As they grow, they’ll need more ounces at each feeding, too.”
“Shouldn’t we get them up?” Belle’s forehead furrowed.
She couldn’t believe Belle was finally showing some interest in them. Thank You, Lord!
“They aren’t crying. They’re safe in their beds. Right now it’s important to prepare for the day.” She slid the feeding chart to face Belle. “After each feeding session, I mark how many ounces they ate. See how Lila has a three in this box? She drank three ounces. It will help you monitor their habits.”
“Oh, I get it. Then there’s proof they’re actually eating.”
“Exactly. When you’re done with your coffee, I’ll show you my diaper tricks. I have a portable changing area on the floor so I don’t have to leave them alone. Oh, I give them tummy time a few times a day, too. Not much, just a few minutes, but it’s good for strengthening their little backs and necks. Don’t ever leave them alone when they’re on their stomachs, though.”
Belle turned to look out the back window and took a long drink of her coffee. “Thank you for...this.”
Belle was thanking her? Ainsley’s heart melted. “You’re welcome. Thank you for letting me spend time with your precious babies every day.”
“They are precious, aren’t they?” Belle’s eyes grew watery.
“The most precious darlings I’ve ever seen.”
She swiped under her eyes. “I’m going to start exercising and eating better. It will give me the energy to take care of them.”
Ainsley didn’t respond. Did Belle really think her problem was a lack of energy? She debated whether to mention seeing a doctor or keep her mouth shut.
She’d never been good at silence.
“Exercise is very therapeutic. Maybe you could talk to your doctor about appropriate workouts for this stage of being a mom.”
“I don’t need to see a doctor. I can walk on the treadmill.”
Ainsley wasn’t going to argue. “Good plan.”
A few minutes ticked by in silence. She should start getting the babies up, but she feared it would send Belle back to her room.
“I love this time of year.” Belle faced her suddenly. “I feel so cooped up, though. It’s hard to get motivated.”
“You probably haven’t left the house much, have you?” She’d go stir-crazy in Belle’s shoes.
“No.”
She thought of Raleigh and Belle—how they had flashes of tender moments but far too many tense ones. Maybe they needed some time out of the house to reconnect.
“I have an idea. What if you and Raleigh went into town tomorrow, just the two of you?”
A smile lit Belle’s face but dimmed as quickly. “I don’t think he’d tear himself away from this place. Gotta work those cattle, you know.”
Ainsley chuckled. “He’s a rancher. That’s what they do. I think he’d jump at the chance to do some Christmas shopping and have some alone time with you, though.”
“You think?” Belle looked so forlorn, Ainsley almost jumped up to hug her.
“I do. I think you both need it. I’ll watch the babies until you return. You two go and make a day of it and don’t worry about hurrying back.”
“You’d do that? Even after...”
“I told you. I love the babies. I’m happy to watch them. It will make me even more glad to watch them knowing you and Raleigh are keeping your marriage strong.”
One of the infants let out a cry.
“Well, we’d better move. Let’s get them up. I’ll show you how to put fresh diapers and clothes on quadruplets in ten minutes flat.”
“Ten minutes?” Belle arched one eyebrow. “I don’t believe you.”
“Time me.” She grinned.
Yesterday, if anyone would have told her she’d have a decent conversation with Belle and make progress with her regarding the care of the quadruplets, she wouldn’t have believed them. The crazy thing was she could see herself becoming friends with Belle in different circumstances. Maybe things were finally getting better.
She hoped so. There weren’t many days left for Ainsley on the ranch. She wanted the babies to have a wonderful life with a mom who adored them and a dad who did, too. Thanksgivings with games and laughter. Christmases full of love. The things she’d missed out on as a child. Hopefully, this was a start.
* * *
He had to stop taking the early-morning shift with the babies.
Marshall heaved a bale of straw into the stall and poked it with a pitchfork. Just because Raleigh was used to heading out to the stables at 4:30 a.m. didn’t mean his schedule was set in stone. Shouldn’t he be feeding the babies at five instead of Marshall? He was their daddy, after all.
Marshall spread the straw around with the pitchfork, then leaned against the handle. The five o’clock feedings weren’t bothering him as much as his conscience was. He’d told Ainsley he wouldn’t go over at night to help anymore. And he didn’t. Technically, he went over in the morning. The dark, quiet hours. Why? Because Belle was already waking up for the 1:00 a.m. feeding, and he wanted her rested so she could do more during the day.
But it felt sneaky. Underhanded.
Boots clomping on the hard dirt outside drew his attention. One of the ranch hands, Colby, stood in the doorway listening to Raleigh give him instructions. Then Colby left, and Raleigh continued to his office.
Marshall hung the pitchfork on a hook on the wall and went straight to Raleigh’s office. He was sitting on a stool, looking over an invoice.
“Got a minute?” he asked.
“What’s up?” Raleigh waved him in.
Marshall leaned against the doorjamb. A voice inside warned him to proceed cautiously. “Do you think you could have Colby or Dave start the morning chores instead of you?”
“Why?” Raleigh spun to face him, his legs wide, his hands lightly clasped together. “You know I’m in charge here. I have to check the outfit.”
“I know you do.” He didn’t understand Raleigh’s passion for looking over each cow. Yes, it had to be done, but Raleigh acted like the cattle would vanish in a poof if he wasn’t out there riding every morning. He swallowed. “I’ve been going over at five to help feed the babies, and, while I like that it gives Belle a break, I feel like it’s your place to feed them, not mine.”
Raleigh stood, tucked his lips under and cocked his head. “You think it gives Belle a break, do you?”
“Well, yeah. Of course.” He straightened, standing with his hips apart.
“Tell me, Marshall, when doesn’t Belle have a break from feeding the babies?”
“I’m not going over there at midnight or one anymore, so she’s—”
“Not getting up with them. I am.” He jabbed his thumb into his own chest, and his voice rose. “And I’m giving them their bottles before bed, too. So forgive me if I’m not as worried about Belle needing a break as you are.”
He bristled for a moment, then slumped. Why had he assumed Belle was handling the babies now that he’d stopped coming around every night?
Because it’s easier to believe than the truth, dummy.
“And I’m sorry, Marshall, but I have a real problem with you sticking your nose into my business. I agreed to let you work here out of respect for Belle. I’m tired of you coddling her. And I’m tired of you running up to the house every afternoon to make googly eyes at the baby nurse. But most of all, I’m fed up with you interfering with my marriage!”
Let him work there? Marshall was the one doing him the favor, not the other way around.
“I don’t coddle my sister, and I’m only running up to the house to help with the little ones. I’ve never interfered with your marriage.” His blood boiled, and the more he thought about it, the more he wanted to grab his keys and leave the ranch for good. “Something is wrong with Belle. Okay? She’s depressed, and she won’t listen to me. So if you don’t want me interfering, tell her to go to a doctor. She needs help.”
Raleigh’s stricken face seared itself into Marshall’s mind. The dark circles under the eyes, the worry lines in his forehead—all told him what he should have seen before barging in. Raleigh was struggling as much as Belle was. And Marshall had no clue how to fix either of them.
He spun on his heel to leave.
“Marshall, wait.”
He clenched his jaw but didn’t move.
“You really think Belle’s depressed?”
Did Raleigh sound hopeful? What an odd reaction. Who would be happy to find out their wife was depressed?
“Yeah, I do. Ainsley told me she thinks it’s postpartum depression, but I didn’t want to believe it.”
“That would explain a lot.” He took off his hat and wiped his forehead. “I’ve been worried she’s...”
“What?” Marshall narrowed his eyes, daring him to criticize his sister.
“Don’t get mad.” He thrust both palms out. “I thought maybe she didn’t like being a mother. That she wouldn’t ever take to it, if you get my drift.”
“That’s not the problem, Raleigh. I looked it up, and this depression thing is pretty common. But we should probably figure out how to get her to the doctor.”
Raleigh nodded, exhaling loudly and looking at the floor.
Marshall turned. “I’m going to inspect fence for a while. By the way, I’m still going up to the house every afternoon, so don’t ask me not to, and if you ever say it’s because of Ainsley and not the babies, I’ll knock you to the ground.”
A grin spread across Raleigh’s face. “What makes you think you can knock me down?”
He snorted. “Are we good?”
“Yeah. We’re good.”
Marshall headed back to the tack room and hoisted his saddle. That conversation hadn’t gone as expected. Did Raleigh resent that he worked for him? The man definitely had a problem with his closeness with Belle, which was ridiculous. Belle was Marshall’s twin, his only family. Didn’t Raleigh get it?
And as for working here and helping with the babies...shouldn’t Raleigh be thanking him instead of accusing him of flirting with Ainsley?
Marshall carried the saddle outside, his breath visible before him.
Maybe he’d made a big mistake quitting his job and moving here.
Well, so what if he had?
He didn’t exactly have any alternatives.
* * *
It had been a terrific day! Ainsley wanted to spin in circles with her hands in the air and shout for joy. Instead she settled for knocking on Marshall’s door that evening. When he opened it, she had to bite her lip to keep from swooning. He’d clearly just showered since his hair glistened with dampness. He wore a dark blue Henley pushed to his forearms, jeans and bare feet. She took a mental snapshot of the image to replay in her head later.
“Guess what?” She tore off her coat and slung it on a hook.
“What?”
“You know how your sister was holding Lila when you stopped by earlier? She helped me take care of the babies all day, and she didn’t go to her room once!”
His mouth dropped open, and he blinked. “You’re being serious?”
“I wouldn’t kid about something this important.”
He took her by the waist and pulled her into a quick hug. She almost gasped at his touch. Then he stepped back, his hand in his hair. “I can’t believe it. That’s great news.”
“I know.” She clapped her hands. “I offered to babysit tomorrow so she and Raleigh can get off the ranch for a while. I think they need to reconnect. Who knows, maybe a little shopping and a meal out will give them the boost they need.”
“You offered to babysit so they can go on a date?” He sounded incredulous.
She nodded happily. “Mmm-hmm, and I told her not to hurry back. Your sister is actually really nice when she’s not hiding in her room or insulting me.”
Marshall was staring at her oddly. She ran her tongue over her teeth. Did she have lettuce stuck in her gums or something?
“Come on. We’re getting out of here.” He held up a finger. “First, let me get my socks.” He raced to the bedroom and before she could figure out what he was doing, he was back.
“Getting out of here?” she asked. “What are you talking about?”
“You. Me. Sweet Dreams. We’re going out.”
“Why?”
“Because this is cause for celebration.”
“O-kay.” She scrunched her nose, looking down at her old lavender sweater. “I need to change first. I look terrible.”
“No, you don’t, you look incredible.” He shoved his feet into shoes and unhooked both their coats.
“Wait, I at least need my purse.” Had she been caught in a tornado? Everything was happening so fast.
She kind of liked it.
“Grab your purse. I’ll start the truck. If you’re not out there in fifteen seconds, I’m coming in after you.” He gently pushed her out the door.
She laughed, enjoying the thought. “I’ll meet you out here in a minute.”
“Fifteen seconds.”
She rolled her eyes. “Fine.”
“Promise?”
She waved him off. Inside her cabin, she changed her sweater, ran a brush through her long hair and swiped on pink lip gloss before snatching her purse and locking the door behind her. She hopped into Marshall’s truck. “What now?”
“Barbecue.”
“Ooh, I like the sound of that.”
“Me, too.”
They drove in easy silence. Ainsley relaxed into the seat and let her thoughts scatter. She closed her eyes. Just for a moment...
“Ainsley?” A hand shook her arm. “Wake up. We’re here.”
She shivered, staring into Marshall’s eyes. His tender expression jolted her awake.
“It’s time to eat,” he said.
She reached for her purse and got out of the truck. Marshall escorted her into the log building with a large hunter green sign spelling Roscoe’s BBQ.
“It’s your fault, you know.” She gave him a sly glance as they stood inside the entrance.
“What is?” He told the hostess they needed a table for two. The teen gestured for them to follow her.
“Me falling asleep.”
“Oh, yeah? You can’t stop thinking about me or something?” His eyes teased her.
He had no idea how close he was to the truth, but she didn’t want him knowing that.
“You wish.” She playfully slapped his arm. “No, I noticed you’ve been heading over to the main house very early every morning.”
He slid into the booth, deep grooves setting in his forehead.
“Yeah, well, not anymore,” he said.
“What do you mean?” She sat across from him. Country music played over the speakers, and laughter erupted from nearby tables. The tangy scent of barbecue sauce made her stomach growl. “I hope you don’t think I’m lecturing you. If you want to go over there and help, I’m not going to stop you.”
“No, that’s not it. Raleigh and I had a...disagreement earlier.”
The way he paused at the word disagreement raised her suspicions.
“A disagreement, huh?” She leaned forward, giving him her full attention.
“He acts like he did me this big favor by letting me work on the ranch. I don’t even want to work there. I could care less about cows and calves and riding out in the freezing cold constantly. If I had my way, I’d be back at Beatty Brothers Repair, taking apart big machines every day.”
She’d never seen him so riled up. She knew ranching wasn’t his ideal job, but she hadn’t realized how much he disliked it.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pour all that on you.” He rubbed his chin. “I guess his words hit me the wrong way.”
“I get it.” She propped her elbow on the table and rested her cheek on her hand. “You don’t feel appreciated. And instead of him thanking you, he got defensive.”
He nodded. “I don’t even blame him, not really. He’s the one getting up in the middle of the night with the babies, not Belle, the way I’d assumed. And I could be wrong, but I feel like dealing with the babies is way over his head, which brings out his prickly side.”
The waitress stopped by and took their orders. Marshall’s earlier good mood had changed to pensiveness, and Ainsley wanted to bring back his happy side.
“Tell me about your old job.” She steered the conversation away from the ranch. She was going to enjoy this night. It was Friday, and they were at a hopping restaurant, and...she liked him. A lot.
“There’s not much to tell.”
“Sure there is. When did you learn how to repair big machinery? Tractors, right?”
“Yes, among other things.” His eyes brightened. “One of the bonuses of living in the group foster home was that I found a part-time job after school as soon as I turned sixteen. I worked for an auto mechanic here in town. Jim Clark showed me basic auto repairs and maintenance, and I took to it naturally.”
“I can tell you loved it.” She couldn’t take her gaze off his animated face.
“I did. Jim saw something in me and let me assist him more and more until I was doing repairs on my own. His brother had a ranch nearby, and his combine had broken down. I begged to go over there and have a look at it. I called the manufacturer, got the manual, talked to local ranchers known for fixing their own equipment, and I was hooked.”
The waitress dropped off their drinks. After they thanked her, Ainsley unwrapped her straw. “So how did you end up in Cheyenne? Why didn’t Belle move here when you guys turned eighteen?”
“Jim was retiring, and Belle already lived in the area. I didn’t mind. I couldn’t find a job in a repair shop right away, so I did some time at McDonald’s. But I put applications in at every auto maintenance and repair shop, and within a few months, William Beatty hired me.”
“Did you work there for long?”
“Ten years.”
Ainsley took a long drink as she pondered what he’d said. Ten years at a job he loved. And he’d given it all up to move to Sweet Dreams. To work on a ranch so he could help his sister.
He was too good to be true.
Really, he was.
He tapped his knuckles on the table. “Maybe it’s for the best Raleigh and I had it out.”
“Why?”
“I told him to talk to Belle about seeing a doctor.”
“How did he take it?”
“A lot better than I did. I still think he should push his schedule back an hour so he can feed the babies at five, though.”
And just like that he was no longer too good to be true.
The words dropped to her stomach like a stone in a stream. Marshall had admitted Raleigh was already feeding the babies in the night. Belle could take the early-morning shift. Why did Marshall keep pampering his sister?
She gripped the glass. “Why don’t you want Belle to do it?”
“If she’s helping you during the day, she’s going to be tired at night.”
“Yes...but if she’s not getting up with them, surely, she’s getting enough sleep. And today was the first day she’s helped me at all.”
Marshall massaged the back of his neck. “So?”
“She’s not made of crystal, Marshall. She won’t shatter.”
“You don’t get it.”
“I do get it. I think you’re the one in denial.”
He glowered. “Let’s drop it.”
“Fine with me.” She looked around, and the festive atmosphere no longer felt joyful. She’d heard things like “you don’t get it” and “drop it” many times over the years. Always when she confronted her father about his drinking.
Marshall isn’t your father. Look at him. He’s good and kind and generous.
Her dad had been good and kind and generous, too—when he was sober. But the drinking turned him into a different person. A blind man. Someone she couldn’t rely on. Someone who didn’t value himself the way she valued him.
Why did thinking about her father still hurt?
And why had he never reached out to her? She’d given him her number. Hadn’t changed it. He could easily look up her address on the internet. But three years had passed without a word.
“Hey, Ainsley?”
She blinked away her turmoil and met Marshall’s eyes. “Yes?”
“I’m sorry. Can we go back to celebrating?”
She gave him a smile. “Absolutely.”
Maybe it wasn’t right for her to compare Marshall to her dad. And maybe she was being too hard on him about Belle.
The hospital would be calling soon. A concrete job offer in her hand would go a long way to getting her thoughts back where they belonged.
She was a realist. Marshall had hammered it home to her ever since she’d met him that Belle came first in his life. Period.
Falling for him would be a disaster. Because she’d always come in second.