A Baby in His Stocking (4 page)

“No,” his mother said, “he hasn't even left the county lines, but for all the time he spends with me, he might as well already be gone.” Georgina, dressed in a Victorian period costume complete with a huge feathered hat, daintily sipped her chamomile tea. While all of the ladies present looked to be enjoying high tea, Cash and Dallas had holed up in the movie room. The mere thought of manly Wyatt eating
petit fours
and discussing the perfect Thanksgiving side dishes brought on a smile. “He said he had business in Tulsa, but I was up all night and this morning with indigestion and never saw him leave.”

“Hmm…” Natalie hid behind her orange spice.

Truth was, she hardly knew him well enough on a personal level to be disappointed by not seeing him today, so why did she now feel pouty? She'd been looking forward to giving him her gift. She'd never met anyone brave enough to just pack up and run away. Sure, lots of people talked about it, but Wyatt had the balls to actually do it. She admired him for that. And as anxious as she was about tackling the frontier of single-motherhood, she planned on adopting Wyatt's fearless attitude when it came to raising her child.

“I'm tired of talking about my horrible son,” Georgina said above a classical crescendo, “let's talk about you. I'm concerned. I spoke with your mom the other
day at gardening club and she said she's afraid you're hiding something from her.”

Natalie lightly shook her head. “Mrs. Buckhorn, I don't mean to be rude, but my personal, private business aside, you just called your son horrible for following his heart. I don't mean any disrespect, but as the one woman in his life he loves above all others, shouldn't you support his decision?”

“It's not that simple.” Georgina set her cup and saucer on the table. “We need Wyatt here. His leaving is selfish.
I
need him here.”

“For what? From what he's told me, he's set up your oil holdings to practically run themselves.”

The older woman sighed. “Your frown tells me you don't understand. My kind of clarity on these matters only comes with age.”

To be polite Natalie nodded, while inside, she vowed to never be so far removed from her son or daughter to stop communicating with them not just on the daily superficial matters, but on issues that truly matter.

Fed up with small talk and hearing advice on everything from getting Craig back to shedding those few extra pounds she seemed to have put on, Natalie didn't bother consulting Josie before sneaking out the back door.

Cold November rain hitting her cheeks came as a welcome relief. As did the sweet smell of a wood fire. The house had been stifling. Too much perfume fighting for attention.

Once in her car, for the longest time Natalie rested her forehead against the wheel. What was wrong with the people of this town that they all felt not only obliged to share their opinions on the most personal aspects of her life, but downright entitled?

Wyatt was right to leave. If she hadn't gone and done a stupid thing like believing Craig loved her, she might still be in a position to do some running herself. As it was, she couldn't afford to abandon her job or support system—no matter how annoying they all might be.

Backing out of her parking space, Natalie had just decided to make an emergency ice-cream run when it occurred to her that maybe an even better way to spend her afternoon would be by talking out her frustrations about Georgina with the only other person who seemed equally annoyed by her pushy manner—Wyatt.

Before chickening out, instead of aiming her car for the main road, she steered down the blacktop lane leading to his home. In all the years she'd known the Buckhorns, she'd never seen Wyatt's house. Come to think of it, not that many folks around town had.

Cash and Wren lived in a clean-lined home not half a mile from Georgina. Josie and Dallas lived with the Buckhorn matriarch in the main house, and Daisy and Luke resided in Luke's cabin until renovations were finished on the historic wreck they were lovingly restoring. Wyatt, however, resided in the woods. Reportedly a good ten miles from the rest of the clan. Rumor had him living in everything from a tin shed to a mobile home to a playboy-style mansion.

Three miles into her trek, rain drummed her car roof. Poor visibility had her slowing to a ridiculous pace. Mile after mile, the blacktop road snaked through dense forest. Just when Natalie was convinced she must have driven all the way to Kansas, there it was. Wyatt's house. Only town gossip hadn't done it justice.

Like the oil rigs he spent most of his time working, the structure was steel, clinging to a wooded hillside.
At first glance, a haphazard series of staggered boxes. Upon closer inspection, the hard metal bones had been covered in glass skin that even on such a dreary day, reflected forest and sky. The place was spellbinding. All the more so when through one of the center panels she spied Wyatt lounging on a couch, watching TV.

Parking alongside his black truck with its Buckhorn Ranch insignia on the doors, she left her purse in the car, struggling instead with an umbrella and his book.

At the end of a gray flagstone walk, she faced an imposing, cranberry-red door. Dripping, trying to keep her umbrella from flying away in the wind, she was on the verge of bailing on her impromptu mission, when the door opened and there stood Wyatt. Bare-chested, wearing faded jeans and nothing else.

“Thought I heard a car. What're you doing here?”

“Nice to see you, too.” Leaving her umbrella, she brushed past him.

“Sorry. I didn't mean that to come out the way it sounded. Guess I'm surprised to see you. Thought you'd be holed up with my family all day.”

“I was—for most of it, anyway. Then your mother ticked me off, and I just wanted out.”

“What'd she do now?”

“I'll tell you just as soon as you show me where the nearest bathroom is,” she said, her teeth chattering.

He pointed down a shadowy hall. “First door on your left.”

Natalie finished with the necessities that her pregnancy had created and took one look in the mirror and cringed. The humidity had transformed her formerly straightened long hair into a frizz ball. Her mascara ran, and her complexion sported a vampire pall. If she'd brought in her purse, she'd have at least had a
ponytail holder to tame her hair. As it was, she settled for using tissue to fix her face.

“Took you long enough.” Wyatt hadn't left the entry hall.

“Are you the bathroom police?”

His white-toothed grin stole her breath. “I've seen feral cats look better than you.”

“If I had the energy, I'd beat you to a pulp.”

“Yeah, right.” He helped her remove her coat. “You tried once in fourth grade and failed miserably.”

“Only because Dallas came to your rescue.”

“That could be debated.” He tossed her coat onto an antique sideboard. The eclectic mix of furniture was genius. Had he done it himself or had help?

“Come on.” Taking her by her arm, he said, “Let's get you warmed up.” He led her down a short flight of stairs to a room so awe-inspiring she literally couldn't think of a single intelligent thing to say. Three walls were composed of floor-to-ceiling glass. Centered on the furthest wall was a river-stone fireplace, glowing with warmth. A mammoth plasma-screen TV hung above the mantel and a custom U-shaped sectional occupied the center of the cathedral-ceilinged space. A sumptuous white area rug covered maple floors. The overall effect was as if they were floating through the forest on a magic carpet.

“I shouldn't be here.” Natalie nodded to her still damp clothes and specks of mud on her shoes. “I'll muss something.”

Kneeling alongside her, he removed one of her black heels, then the other. His knuckles grazed her ankles, shocking her with the unexpected intimacy of his touch. “Next excuse?”

“Th-thanks.” Her teeth still occasionally chattered,
but she suspected now more because of her erratic pulse than cold. His actions had been kind. Something Josie might've done—only with plenty of teasing and a goofy smile.

“No problem.” Taking the TV remote from the sofa, he muted a football game. “Coffee? Have a seat and I'll put on a fresh pot.”

“Thanks, but—” she pointed to the bump beneath her billowy blue blouse “—no caffeine for me.”

“Right. I forgot.” Hands in his pockets, he looked to the floor, then met her gaze. “Ironic, isn't it?”

“What?”

“You being pregnant. All the fertility around here is what's driving me to leave. A wise man wouldn't have let you in this house.”

“What's that make you?” She couldn't resist zinging back.

“Ouch.” His smile blocked all rational thought. “Guess that makes me not-so-wise, but seriously, it's nice to see you.”

“Likewise.” They shared an awkward moment of silence, gazes meeting, then breaking, only to meet up again. Unable to cope with her awareness of his size, and how easy it was to recall every detail of their kiss, she struggled to remember her reason for being at his home. “I, um, brought you a book, but left it in the bathroom.” Hitching her thumb that way, she said, “I'll go get it.”

“Let me,” he said, already halfway there. “You have a seat.”

She did, but mostly because of her rubbery knees than because he'd asked.

“This is great,” he called from the hall. Entering the living room, he flipped through the glossy pages.
“I ordered one online, but it hasn't come. Where'd you find it?”

“Yard sale. It was only a quarter, but I thought you might enjoy thumbing through.”

“I will. Thanks. Ethiopia doesn't get a lot of coverage on travel sites.”

“Are you afraid of violence?”

“I'd be lying if I said I wasn't. I'll be working with a major oil player, though, so there will be security.” He sat on the opposite end of the sofa to her, still leafing through his gift. “The poverty aspect is tough, too. It bothers me that we'll have the latest in gadgetry and freeze-dried gourmet when the locals are barely scraping by. But then on the flip side, our base camp is set up at a safari resort. Up until researching this trip, I never would've thought anyone went to Ethiopia on vacation. Turns out it's a beautiful country.”

“Hmm…” Reflective, with her hand over her tummy, Natalie said, “All in all, it still sounds like a wonderful adventure, which is why I'm so miffed with your mom. She called you horrible and selfish for leaving.”

His only reaction was to shrug. “She's told me her opinion to my face. At first, it stung. Now, I'm over it.”

“Still… Have you considered letting her in on your reasons for leaving?”

“Next topic.” He added a couple logs to the fire. “In general, how was the party?”

“The usual. Over-the-top food, decorations and conversation. When I left, Daisy was counting how many times she'd seen contractor ‘cracks' at her new house. They had to tear down the new north wing and start over.”

He winced. “Makes me doubly glad I missed it.”

“If you don't mind my asking,” she said, “why didn't you at least want to spend time with your brothers?”

Stretching out his legs and crossing them at the ankles, he took his sweet time to answer. “Suffice to say it's complicated.”

“I do have my master's in counseling.”

He snorted. “That your not-so-subtle way of comparing my brainpower to that of a third grader?”

“Wyatt, I'm serious.” Though the rain outside fell harder, his complexion appeared red and overheated. “I get that your issues must be like a slow death inside, but you can't run forever—well, you could, but you'd miss out on a lot.”

“Master's or not,” he said, “feel free to drop it. You're making me wish I'd never told you.”

“Sorry.”

“Are you?” he snapped. “You sit there judging me when you already have the one gift I never will. Think about it.”

Throat tight, Natalie sighed. She slipped on her shoes and coat and made it all the way to the door without him saying a word.

She'd just stepped back out in the rain when Wyatt called, “Hey, Nat?”

“Yes?” Was it wrong for her to hope he'd repair the gaping hole now between them?

“Thanks again for the book, but it's probably best you don't come around anymore.”

“Look how big you're getting.”

Thanksgiving morning, Wyatt glanced over his shoulder as he crouched in front of his mother's fireplace. Josie patted Natalie's growing baby bump and for whatever reason, the sight irked the hell out of him. She hadn't been that pregnant last time he'd seen her, had she?

“I know.” Natalie raised her shirt to show off elastic-banded black slacks. “I had to go up a size in maternity pants. Suffice to say, my secret is completely out.”

“You look adorable,” Josie gushed. “Almost makes me want to have another baby.”

Laughing, Natalie said, “You might want to consult Dallas about that.”

As if he weren't even in the room, the two women chatted right past him. Just as well, Wyatt figured while he lit kindling in the hearth. His latest conversation with Natalie still stung.
Issues?
What the hell did she know about what he was going through? If she'd tried for years to have a baby, but kept miscarrying, would she find it enjoyable to hang with the most fertile family in Oklahoma?

Just as soon as his Thanksgiving duties were over,
he was heading to Tulsa. The Mayo Hotel had a rooftop bar. He'd get a room, a few drinks, meet a hot woman looking for a good time. With luck, they'd share fun and breakfast. Time to act like the eligible bachelor he was.

At dinner, his seven-year-old niece Bonnie turned to him and said, “Uncle Wyatt?”

“Yes, ma'am?” He helped himself to seconds of green bean casserole.

“Could you please cut my meat?” She held up a thick slice of turkey and waved it.

“Just eat it like that.”

“I can't.” She dredged her free fingers through gravy, then licked them like lollipops. “It's bad manners.”

“And what you're doing isn't?” he asked.

Betsy, her twin, who sat on his other side, said, “She likes eating her gravy like that. Me, too.”

“You guys are gross.” Kolt sat across from them, looking ready to barf.

“Girls,” Dallas warned, “remember what we talked about? Today is the perfect time for you to practice being respectful young ladies.”

“Daddy,” Betsy said, coating her stubby digits with more gravy, “me and Bonnie decided we just wanna be like regular us.”

Josie passed the damp washcloth she'd used on two-year-old Mabel down the table to Wyatt. “Would you mind cleaning the twins? I'd hate for them to get gravy on their dresses.”

“But I like it,” Bonnie said. “And I'm big. I can wash my own hands.”

“Be my guest.” Wyatt handed the kid the cloth.

Dallas cast his younger brother a put-out glare
before pushing back his chair, snatching the cloth and wiping down the girls himself. “There. Now, eat with your fork, spoon and knife or you'll sit in the kitchen.”

“You're mean,” Bonnie said.

To Wyatt's way of thinking, the day being a holiday and all, Dallas was taking the whole table-manners thing too seriously. There had been a time when the twins would have been
painting
the walls with gravy, so their current behavior was already a vast improvement.

A glance to the far end of the table had Wyatt locking gazes with Natalie. She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. What was she thinking? Did she, too, want to add her two cents to the gravy debate or was her mind wandering to weightier matters? Maybe she wished she were seated alongside her baby's father, rather than being sandwiched between Josie and Daisy?

She'd been quick to fault him for his demons, but how much time did she spend worrying about her own?

 

“W
HEW
.” J
OSIE DROPPED TO
the sofa. Daisy and Wren joined her. “That was tougher than I'd planned.”

Natalie had gone along with them to put their menageries to bed. The twins and Kolt had been allowed to stay up late to watch a movie.

Daisy asked the men, “Have you all done anything productive today?”

“We cleaned up after dinner.” Luke stretched and yawned. “Plus, I took Kolt and the baby to see my folks.”

“I told you I would've gone.” Daisy rounded the room picking up baby bibs and toys and blankets.

“And I told you,” Luke said, “there was no use in
getting you riled up when you were having a nice day with your family.”

“Is your mother ever going to forgive me?” Daisy dabbed a tissue at the corners of her eyes.

Luke went to her, circling her with his strong arms. “Last I recall, you married me and not my mom.”

“Thank God,” she said into his chest.

Struggling past a pang of jealousy for the deep connection Daisy and Luke shared, Natalie felt for Daisy. Yes, Daisy had done a terrible thing in keeping Kolt from his father for the first ten years of his life, but she'd had good reason. Luke had long since forgiven her. Why couldn't his mom?

When Natalie became a mother, she'd already picked up tips on what kind of parent she didn't want to be, but what would she stand for? She had no clue how to handle day-to-day feeding and diapering logistics, let alone the kinds of problems looming ahead of her when her baby started talking and walking and going to school. How much easier would her pregnancy be knowing her parents stood firmly in her corner?

“I've got a great idea.” Josie's smile was supersized and suspicious. “How about we lighten the mood with a game? Trivial Pursuit? Pictionary? Charades?”

All present save for Dallas moaned.

“Count me out,” Wyatt said.

“I should check the horses.” Cash was already on his feet.

“If we play charades, I'm in,” Daisy said, “but only if I'm paired with you, Josie. Dallas and Luke cheat.”

Dallas waved off his sister's concern. “You're the cheater. Come on, Luke, let's show your wife how it's done.”

“Yay!” Josie clapped. “I'll be right back with scratch paper, a basket and a couple of pens.”

“Wanna be on my team?” Wren asked Cash. In her third year of residency, to save precious time and effort, she'd cut her long dark hair into an adorable pixie style. Judging by the heated looks and stolen kisses her husband had given her all day, he approved.

“Guess that leaves us.” Wyatt crammed alongside Natalie on the love seat. Every brush of their forearms or thighs flip-flopped her stomach. Had to be hormones causing such havoc, because it certainly wasn't common sense. Not only was Wyatt soon to embark on a seriously long trek, even if he weren't, he would never be the right sort of guy for her and her baby. If Natalie ever dated again—which was a very big
if—
she'd look for the most committed man around. The kind of salt-of-the-earth guy who was so emotionally invested in living the rest of his life with her and her baby that he'd never even consider time spent without them.

“Nat, pick,” Josie prodded, waving the basket with the movies they had to act out in front of her. They were playing by Buckhorn house rules, which meant the team who first guesses the film title they were acting out won the point.

“Sorry,” Natalie said with a shake of her foggy head. She removed a folded card and by necessity, leaned closer to Wyatt to let him see
Raging Bull.

“Here's how I think we should do this,” he whispered in her ear. His breath was moist and hot and flavored with the sweet hint of pumpkin pie. Forearms covered in goose bumps, Natalie forced herself to focus. “I'm going to play a bull, charging at you. But
I'll be angry. You act scared, like you're trying to get out of the way. Make sense?”

“Uh-huh.” How was it possible for a man to smell so good? Especially one she no longer even especially liked!

He stood first, offering her his hand to help her to her feet. As was starting to be the norm, electricity sizzled between them. A bad thing, considering their current level of tension. She hadn't intended to drill him that afternoon at his house, but she stood by what she said. Maybe not in the near future, but one day, she believed Wyatt would regret his life spent running. A little adventure was fine, but a steady diet of chocolate eventually led to indigestion.

Side by side in front of the crackling fire, she held up two fingers, signifying their title had two words.

“No fair,” Cash said. “Ours had like ten.”

Wren landed a playful smack to his head. “What's wrong with you? Last I checked,
When Harry Met Sally
has four words and for the record, you're just a lousy actor.”

“But I'm so good-looking,” Cash explained, “all I have to do is stand there for everyone to be entertained.”

“Aw…” Wren cupped his cheeks, drawing him in for a kiss. “I love you.”

“Mmm…” Cash tugged his wife onto his lap, deepening their show of affection to a degree that made Natalie uncomfortable.

Tossing their title card to the floor, Wyatt said to the happy couple, “Can you two get your hands off each other so we can get this stupid game over with?”

“Nice, Wyatt.” Dallas cast his brother one of his legendary scowls. “Way to support a night of family fun.”

“Sorry,” Wyatt mumbled, “I still have a lot of packing to do. Lists to double-check.”

Natalie knew Wyatt's statement to be true, but it still stung knowing he'd rather be anywhere than with her. Irrationally, she felt as if she'd been transported back in time to when Craig had walked out her door. He'd been busy, too. Far too busy even to share raising his own child.

A knot blocking her throat, Natalie managed, “I—I need to use the restroom.”

“Now look what you did,” Dallas said to his younger brother. “Nat, he didn't mean it. Come back.”

Too late. She'd already locked the door.

“Go after her,” Josie urged, her voice muffled.

“Why?” Wyatt asked. “It's not my fault she's a hormonal mess.”

Hands covering her face, Natalie sat on the closed toilet, taking a tissue from a nearby dispenser to blow her nose.

This was supposed to have been a pleasant, relaxing holiday. Her parents had wanted her to spend it in Chicago with them and some distant relatives, but because Josie had whined, Natalie had succumbed. Of course, the opportunity to avoid her parents had made her decision somewhat easier. Now, she recognized it for the mess it was.

No matter how much she'd been trying to avoid the fact that she was soon to be a single mom, the time until her delivery barreled toward her.

A knock sounded on the bathroom door. “Nat? Please let me in.”

Josie. Natalie knew her friend was worried about her spending too much time alone, but why couldn't she
see that as bad as Craig had hurt her, and now, Wyatt, she honestly preferred being alone?

Natalie forced a deep, fortifying breath, then let her supposed friend into her hideout.

“Sweetie, I'm sorry,” Josie said, wrapping Natalie in a hug. “I really thought a little family fun would be just the thing to make you smile. Now, I see I might have been better off serving you thirds of dessert.”

“You think?” Natalie asked with a sniffle. “Craig didn't want me and now Wyatt can't even stand being around me long enough to play a game. Do you have any idea how mortifying that is?”

“Stop. He's busy. His grumpy mood has nothing to do with you. As for Craig…” Josie swept hair from in front of Natalie's eyes, tucking it behind her ear. “You're gorgeous, and Craig's running away has way more to do with his character—or lack thereof—than yours.”

Natalie appreciated Josie's stab at comfort, but unfortunately, the damage to her heart had already been done.

 

T
HE
M
ONDAY AFTER
T
HANKSGIVING
, seated in the backseat of her parents' minivan, Natalie felt more as though she were twelve on the way home from school than having picked up her parents from Tulsa International.

“When you told us you were pregnant,” her mother, Opal, said, “I assumed you and Craig would get back together.”

“I did, too,” Natalie admitted, closing her eyes to ward off car sickness as the van took another turn. “I truly believed Craig and I were getting married. When he left…”

Her mother reached around her seat for a sympathetic knee pat. “Don't you worry. We'll find you a man right away.”

“I've already told you,” Natalie said, “I plan on raising this baby on my own.”

Her father, Bud, snorted. “Think again, little lady. By my calculations, you're running out of time to give this baby a proper last name.”

“I have to agree,” her mom said with an exaggerated nod. “Weed Gulch is a small town. I know unwed women have babies all the time, but not in our family.” Rummaging in her purse, then pulling out a tissue, Opal dabbed the corners of her eyes before blowing her nose. “My friend Alice has a boy who just got back from Iraq. He's an excellent provider and she says he has aspirations to own his own ranch. I'll call to set up a date.”

Hand to her forehead, Natalie said, “Stop. You both sound crazy. I'm a self-sufficient, strong woman. Why do you think I need a man to have this baby?”

Opal didn't just remain misty, but started to wail.

One hand on the wheel, Bud used his other to stroke his wife's hair.

Natalie sighed. “I'm sorry your daughter and grandchild are such a disappointment.”

“Don't you dare cop an attitude,” Opal said past sniffles. “I'm sorry. No matter what, I'll always be proud of you. I'm also sad. I want more for you. Daddy and I have been married for over thirty years. We've shared everything—especially raising you. It's not that I think you can't handle raising a child on your own, I'm just sad you feel you have to.”

“Mom—did you even listen when I told you Craig left me? I was devastated. Truthfully, I wanted to
marry him so badly I'd stopped insisting we use birth control. I stupidly believed a baby would be the answer to all my prayers, but I was wrong. Now I'm hurt and confused and angry. I understand him not wanting me, but how could Craig reject our child?”