“I don’t like this one,” Bonnie whined with a stomp of her red rain boots.
Betsy stomped her pink boots. “I do!”
“Ladies…” Natalie warned. “Santa’s watching.”
After a thirty-minute truck ride down a bone-rattling dirt trail, then tromping through a field cloaked by freezing drizzle, they’d finally reached the Christmas tree plot that’d been planted by the first Buckhorns in Oklahoma. Each generation was responsible for reseeding, and now a pine forest stood, wind whispering through the fragrant boughs.
Bonnie said, “Santa doesn’t like ugly trees!”
“You’re the ugly one,” Betsy said. “And I hate your red boots!”
“I hate your pink ones!”
Fingers to his mouth, Wyatt blew an earsplitting whistle.
Mabel, who rode high on his shoulders, squealed, holding her hands to her ears.
Esther, who’d been asleep in her papoose-style carrier, snug against Natalie’s chest, woke with a start, screaming loud enough to prompt a flock of crows into cawing flight.
“Shhh,” Natalie soothed. “You’re okay. Only the big girls are in trouble.”
“Santa hates you,” Bonnie informed her sister.
Betsy stuck out her tongue.
“Knock it off,” Wyatt said. “If I were Santa, I’d bring you two a bowl of rocks.”
“It’s s’posed to be a bag of switches,” Betsy said. “You have to get Santa’s stuff right, Uncle Wyatt.”
He glanced Natalie’s way to catch her grinning. “Yeah, Uncle Wyatt. Get it right.”
It’d been two days since the intimacies they’d shared in Georgina’s living room. Two days during which nothing, and yet everything had changed. Wyatt was no longer her enemy, but her friend. And it was nice. Yet fragile and disconcerting. Somewhat like a dream she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to wake from.
“Oh,” he said, “it’ll be right when we go home with no tree and you two spend the rest of the night in your room.”
Both girls pouted with their arms folded tight across their chests.
“Miss Nat,” Wyatt asked, Mabel once again all smiles on his shoulders, “how about you and this little lady pick the tree?”
Gazing across a sea of green pines and firs, low clouds hugging the hills, Natalie pointed to her favorite, asking the toddler, “Mabel, sweetie, do you like that one?”
“Ice cream!”
“Ow! Hey, kid, take it easy on your poor uncle.” Wyatt rubbed the sides of his head where she’d slapped her excitement.
“Pumpkin,” Natalie reached for the girl’s hands, trying to calm her, “I’m not sure where you see ice cream, but I’m taking your enthusiasm to mean we’ve chosen our official Christmas tree.”
“Yay!” the fickle twins cried. “It’s pretty!”
Wyatt set Mabel on her feet next to Natalie, then commenced with cutting. In a way, it was sad seeing the tree coming down, but watching him work his ax proved insanely hot. Granted, Weed Gulch had its fair share of manly men, but whew, Wyatt had them all beat. With each strike, he had a habit of sticking his tongue—just the tip—to his upper lip. Alas, the show didn’t last long, as all too soon he’d finished his task and was dragging their prize to the truck.
“Ride,” Mabel said, running alongside him, pointing to his shoulders.
He scooped her back to her former position, keeping a careful hold. His contagious chuckle and slow grin stole Natalie’s breath.
Esther snug and still sleeping against her, the twins giggling and running around their uncle, Natalie found it all too easy to picture a scene not so different from this in her own future. For all her resolve to steer clear of men, she’d be lying if she didn’t admit to having the occasional craving for domestic bliss. Fortunately, she was smart enough to realize times like these were a rarity and not the norm.
At the house, while the twins and Mabel ran wild, singing “Jingle Bells,” she and Wyatt tackled taking ornament and decoration boxes from the attic. Esther helped by lying sweetly in her portable playpen, blowing raspberries at dust bunnies. Considering Georgina typically had a team of Tulsa florists and decorators prepare the house for the holidays, the only items Natalie was concerned with were family keepsakes.
“I’ve always loved the Buckhorn way of celebrating the holidays,” Natalie said to Wyatt, fingering raised lettering on a Baby’s First Christmas ball.
Grunting while passing Natalie a dusty box, Wyatt said, “When I was a kid, holidays were insane. Seemed like my folks went to a different party every night in December.” Sitting on an old chest, he rubbed his whisker-stubbled jaw. “The one they hosted here every year was nothing like the kid-friendly fests we have now. Back in the day, we’re talking black tie and limos stretched down the entire drive. The year Reagan came I’m surprised the Secret Service didn’t take out Dallas and Luke when they used BB guns to appoint themselves official backup.”
Natalie said, “As an outsider looking in, the Buckhorns seemed like royalty.”
“Nah. We had our issues. Hell—still do.”
“Yeah, but what’s it like to never worry about normal things? Say during the holidays when I want to buy my mom an extra special gift, but the gas bill is so high, I don’t have the cash.”
Resting his elbows on his knees, he cradled his forehead on the heels of his palms. “That old saying about money not buying happiness? It’s true. When Mom lost Dad, I thought we’d lose her, too.”
“Everybody struggles with losing loved ones. I’m talking about day-to-day drudgery. Like do you ever crave steak for dinner, but end up with mac and cheese?”
“I love that stuff.” Easing upright, he rubbed the back of his neck. “When I was ten, we went skiing in the Alps and the chef in the castle Dad rented made it with Gruyère and lobster.”
“Seriously?”
He laughed. “Yeah, but all I’m saying is the Buckhorns are far from perfect. My dad was a great man, but looking back on it, I didn’t really know him. If I told you some of the stuff keeps me up nights, you’d be glad for money woes.”
“I’ll bite.”
“I had it first!” Bonnie shouted.
Betsy said, “Your Barbie doesn’t even like that dress!”
“I want cookie!” At the base of the attic stairs, Natalie caught a glimpse of the twins playing tug-of-war with a scrap of hot pink fabric.
Mabel hopped back and forth between them.
Esther seemed happy enough, cooing at a stuffed cow.
“Hold that thought,” Natalie said. “Looks like my services are needed as a referee.”
“THERE YOU GO, SWEETIE.” That night, Wyatt held Mabel as high as his arms reached. In her grubby hands was the battered gold star that had topped the Buckhorn family Christmas tree for as long as he could remember. “Put it right on top.”
“Star, star, star!” For a little squirt, she did a great job. Her grin warmed him through and through. Spending so much time with his nieces had helped Wyatt see the girls in a new light. Sure, they were infinitely more trouble than he’d thought, but times like these, when even the twins were pitching in and doing a good job, he experienced a gut-level connection to all of them he’d never expected.
If he felt this attached to them when they weren’t even his, he couldn’t imagine how it must feel for Dallas, Cash or Luke having children born of their own DNA.
“Uncle Wyatt, look at this one.” Betsy held up a salt-dough candy cane. Josie had helped the girls make them in their kindergarten class.
“Mine’s better,” Bonnie said, holding hers up, as well.
“They’re both gorgeous,” Natalie said. Taking the tissue from what Wyatt knew was Josie’s favorite angel, she put it on a high branch. Dallas had told him Josie purchased the ornament the first holiday after her little girl had died. “I’m sure your mom and dad are sorry they’re missing out on this.”
“Yeah.” Bonnie sat on the hearth in front of the crackling fire. “I sure miss them. When are they coming home?”
Natalie wrapped the girl in a hug. “Just as soon as they start feeling better.”
“Wanna watch a movie?” Betsy asked her sister. “This isn’t as much fun without Daddy and Mommy.”
Bonnie nodded.
Mabel’s interest had turned to playing with foil garland and Esther had fallen asleep.
While Wyatt and Natalie finished the tree in companionable silence, Bing Crosby crooned carols. Though it was only a little past six, darkness had already fallen. On his own with Natalie, Wyatt wasn’t sure what to say. In the attic, if the twins hadn’t interrupted, he’d found himself wanting to share his misgivings about leaving. He’d been around her so much, sharing everything with her felt not only natural, but normal. Putting ornaments on the tree had always been a special event, reserved for family only. But in ways, he felt almost closer to her than he did them. Not good for a man sworn to forever remain a bachelor.
“I don’t mean to pry,” Natalie said, “but earlier, when you told me you have worries, is there anything I can do to help?”
“How did I know you wouldn’t let that go?”
“Had I said the same, would you?”
Laughing, he admitted, “Probably not.”
“Well?” she probed.
He added three more ornaments before saying, “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
“Now that you did, don’t leave me hanging.”
“I leave in a few days.” He added another ornament to the tree. “I was psyched about my trip. Dallas and Josie are on the mend. No reason for me to put off leaving any longer, right? Except for you. I feel like I’d be shirking my responsibility—leaving you with all these kids and the monstrosity of a house.”
“You asking for my blessing to go?”
He hung two purple reindeer. “Guess I am. If you feel it’s too much for you, what with the baby, I’ll call the whole thing off.”
“And leave me with the guilt of knowing I stopped you from going on the trip of a lifetime?” A sharp laugh escaped her. “No, thanks.”
They finished the tree in silence, rain drumming the skylights.
Once the twins were tucked in bed, Wyatt wanted to ask Natalie to join him by the fire. They could talk or play cards. Anything. Didn’t matter. He wanted to spend time with her. But the general vibe wasn’t conducive to a night of casually hanging out. In offering to stay, he thought he’d be doing her a favor. Instead, he got the impression his offer had royally pissed her off. Had she thought he didn’t have confidence in her to handle their impromptu family on her own? If so, nothing could be further from the truth. In fact, he feared the true heart of the matter was that he dreaded leaving—not just her, but his nieces. The newfound feeling of being needed was intoxicating.
In the hall outside the twins’ closed bedroom Natalie yawned, politely covering her mouth. “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to call it a night.”
“It’s only nine.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m carrying a line-backer inside me. I’m exhausted.”
Wyatt wanted to touch her belly again. Feel her son move. “Anything I can do for you? Make tea? Rub your feet?”
“No, thanks.”
“You’re not upset with me, are you?”
“Over what?” She paused in front of her bedroom door.
“Offering to stay. Give me the word, and I will—but not because I don’t think you can handle everything just fine on your own.”
“You’re sweet, but no. Our trip to the hospital tomorrow will be rough. We should be well-rested for not only the girls, but Josie and Dallas. Last thing I want them worrying about is if we’re up for the task of caring for their children—even though you are only a short-timer.”
“Right.” Was he a fool for feeling rejected? As if they were back in high school and he’d asked Natalie to a big dance, only to have her turn him down? Shoving his hands in his jean pockets, he said, “Guess I’ll use this quiet time to go through some mail.”
“Okay…well.” She flopped her hands at her sides. “See you in the morning.”
There was so much he wanted to say. He wanted reassurance she truly was tired and not avoiding him. Most of all, he wanted to hold her. Or maybe for her to hold him.
Instead, he flashed an awkward wave.
She retreated to her room.
He spent the next four hours pouting over beer and football.
NATALIE HAD THOUGHT SHE WAS prepared for seeing Josie and Dallas. She was wrong. Though their facial bruises were fading, they still looked deathly pale and were hooked up to a myriad of equipment she didn’t begin to understand. Due to light sensitivity, the shades had been drawn. The room reeked of antiseptic.
For the moment, Mabel and Esther had stayed in the waiting room with their grandmother.
The twins had tight hold of Natalie’s hands.
Bonnie whispered, “Mommy, what’s wrong with you and why won’t Daddy wake up?”
Betsy said, “Yeah. I wanna know, too.”
Wyatt clung to a dark corner, arms crossed, expression grim.
Josie winced through a small smile. “Daddy’s tired, but his doctors say that before you know it, he’s going to be fine—me, too. All we want you two to worry about is your schoolwork. And your holiday concert.”
“Wish you could be there.” Betsy bravely stepped forward, reaching for Josie’s hand, but there was an IV. The little girl settled for holding her stepmom’s fingers.
“Me, too, sweetheart. But Miss Natalie and Uncle Wyatt will be there, and they’ll tape the whole show so your dad and I don’t miss a thing.”
“Uncle Wyatt can’t go. He’s leaving.”
“Oh?” Josie looked to Natalie, who flashed her an exaggerated bright, confident smile. Monday morning, Wyatt would head out—this time with nothing holding him back. Especially not unwarranted worries about her.
Bonnie said, “This place is scary. Why can’t you come home?”
“We will,” Josie promised. “Real soon.”
Her friend’s posture and weak voice told Natalie no matter how badly Josie might crave being around her girls, she wasn’t well enough to handle them all at once.
Josie asked, “C-could you please bring in Mabel? And Esther?”
“Come on, squirts.” Wyatt stepped forward to take the twins by their hands. “Let’s see what good stuff Grandma has in her purse.”
“Love you,” Bonnie said to Josie. “Please get better.”
“Yeah,” Betsy said.
“I will.” Josie blew them a kiss.
Sadly, Dallas didn’t wake for his daughters’ visit and Josie’s energy wilted like a cut flower left too long in the sun.
Wyatt and Natalie and the girls took Georgina and Daisy to lunch. The two women appeared exhausted. Not wishing to discuss any topics too heavy in front of the children, they strove for a cheerful holiday vibe, but the twins were smart. They may have wondered about their parents before, but they now knew whatever was going on was serious.
The ride home seemed never-ending, and once there, the twins retreated to their room. Natalie wasn’t a big fan of parking small kids in front of a TV, but as she was emotionally spent, she cuddled on her bed with Mabel and Esther. The Disney Channel provided entertainment.
“This a private party?” Wyatt asked, peering in from the hall.
Natalie patted the empty space next to her. “The more the merrier.”
After tugging off his cowboy boots and socks, he joined them. “Been a helluva day, hasn’t it?”
She nodded. “Not sure what I expected, but what we saw seems worse.”
“I know what you mean.” He bunched a pillow beneath his head. “I’m used to Dallas being a barking, bossy pain in my you-know-what. When he couldn’t wake even to—” Voice cracking, he pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes.
Natalie cradled him to her chest, kissing the top of his head, smoothing his hair. For Wyatt to show this level of vulnerability was beyond uncharacteristic into the realm of heartbreaking.
“Uncle Wyatt, cookie?” Mabel asked.
“No, honey,” Natalie said to the girl, stroking, stroking Wyatt’s hair. “He doesn’t need cookies, just lots of hugs.”
Mabel lunged at Wyatt. Even though her chubby arms didn’t reach all the way around, her intent was clear. And Natalie, too, succumbed to the emotion of the day. As close as she’d grown to these children—and this man—how was she supposed to first say goodbye to him, then walk away from these beautiful girls when Dallas and Josie did return home? Make no mistake, no one would be more thrilled than Natalie for her dear friend to resume her former life, but how would Natalie deal with the transition from having a family to none? When it was just her and her son, would that family feeling be the same?
“Can I ask you a favor?”
“Sure,” Wyatt said. Mabel still clung to his neck.
“I know you have an early flight Monday, but please don’t leave without saying goodbye.”