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Wyoming Christmas Quadruplets
Jill Kemerer
A nanny at Christmastime…Will she find love in this Wyoming Cowboys novel?Six weeks on a ranch caring for quadruplets—aspiring nurse Ainsley Draper’s prepared for a busy Christmas. When the children’s handsome uncle opens the door, her task gets extra complicated.Marshall Graham is upholding his promise to look after his twin sister, the babies’ mom. But as family loyalty clashes with new love, will the perfect present include a future with Ainsley?


A nanny at Christmastime...
Will she find love in this Wyoming Cowboys novel?
Six weeks on a ranch caring for quadruplets—aspiring nurse Ainsley Draper’s prepared for a busy Christmas. When the children’s handsome uncle opens the door, her task gets extra complicated. Marshall Graham is upholding his promise to look after his twin sister, the babies’ mom. But as family loyalty clashes with new love, will the perfect present include a future with Ainsley?
JILL KEMERER writes novels with love, humor and faith. Besides spoiling her minidachshund and keeping up with her busy kids, Jill reads stacks of books, lives for her morning coffee and gushes over fluffy animals. She resides in Ohio with her husband and two children. Jill loves connecting with readers, so please visit her website, jillkemerer.com (http://www.jillkemerer.com), or contact her at PO Box 2802, Whitehouse, OH 43571.
Also By Jill Kemerer (#u8549a9a8-41e4-51c4-ae97-1acb82c6d969)
Wyoming Cowboys
The Rancher’s Mistletoe Bride
Reunited with the Bull Rider
Wyoming Christmas Quadruplets
Small-Town Bachelor
Unexpected Family
Her Small-Town Romance
Yuletide Redemption
Hometown Hero’s Redemption
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Wyoming Christmas Quadruplets
Jill Kemerer


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-1-474-08622-6
WYOMING CHRISTMAS QUADRUPLETS
© 2018 Ripple Effect Press, LLC
Published in Great Britain 2018
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
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www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
“And what are your Christmas dreams?”
Marshall strained for her answer. But Ainsley shook her head.
“They don’t matter. I take life one dream at a time. I’m glad to be here with the babies. And after Christmas my real dreams will begin. I want the job in the ICU. Then, hopefully, I’ll get into the nursing program. Everything else is icing on one of these gingerbread cookies.”
Why he felt let down, he couldn’t say. Maybe he’d hoped he could play a small part in her Christmas dreams.
“And now I get to ask if you have any Christmas dreams of your own.” Her face glowed.
“Well, I would like to sneak one of those cookies after we ice them.”
She laughed, the sound joyous and tinkling. “I think I can arrange that.”
Spending the afternoon and evening with Ainsley was all the Christmas dream he needed. Dreams never worked out all that great for him anyhow. But if he did have one, it would be for this time with Ainsley to last.
Wanting more was a dangerous thing.
Dear Reader (#u8549a9a8-41e4-51c4-ae97-1acb82c6d969),
Babies and Christmas—two of my favorite things! When I got the idea to write about quadruplets, I pictured tiny toes, wiggly bodies and all those soft, squishy cheeks waiting to be kissed. And I also could see a mom struggling with postpartum depression and not realizing it. Marshall and Ainsley came to the rescue, but in so many ways, the babies rescued them. It’s funny how life works. Sometimes tough situations lead us to clarify what we really want out of life.
This Christmas season, I hope you’ll take a few minutes to bask in the beauty of God’s love. He doesn’t think less of us when we struggle—He sympathizes with us, loves us, wants the best for us at all times. No matter what joys or troubles the holidays bring, lean on the One who adores you—Jesus.
Have a very merry Christmas!
Jill Kemerer
The Lord thy God in the midst of thee is mighty; he will save, he will rejoice over thee with joy; he will rest in his love, he will joy over thee with singing.
—Zephaniah 3:17
For all the parents and caregivers of multiples. May you be blessed.
Contents
Cover (#u1498d693-265e-5566-8233-38d58c5b5e18)
Back Cover Text (#uf467479d-1b64-5028-afbd-eb2d0560efd2)
About the Author (#u0caf48ac-c347-5d0e-a2a2-a7a8dcc4b069)
Booklist (#u0506ab4d-c488-55b1-92a3-134ed36617c7)
Title Page (#u42c6258a-7c24-534a-b896-6cbda46b3cb3)
Copyright (#u9156d816-726f-56e1-9c09-ef89320eab6e)
Introduction (#u3da2c082-e99c-54e5-bbb1-6edcefcb2811)
Dear Reader (#u993f6384-ea58-5f99-8194-6d9a759804c0)
Bible Verse (#u17908d10-9264-5e90-93c3-55fec9b3529f)
Dedication (#uec81ce88-af79-5b89-b001-e8e7244fc681)
Chapter One (#u1912c66b-3089-5ca2-a560-54b520387528)
Chapter Two (#u4614fdac-d86c-56cb-8ed3-f9befe662933)
Chapter Three (#u2b7597c1-c7a7-5674-89b4-c0aeac4ec40f)
Chapter Four (#ue6ea545a-b88b-5444-83b4-5315b6e2318b)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#u8549a9a8-41e4-51c4-ae97-1acb82c6d969)
“Belle, would you get the door?” Marshall Graham held Ben in one arm and Max in the other. Both infants were crying as if they hadn’t eaten in hours. He’d tried to give them bottles fifteen minutes ago, but Ben had barely touched his, and Max hadn’t taken an ounce. The knocking on the front door persisted. “Belle!”
Grace joined in the chorus of wails. Great. Marshall glanced at the twin girls strapped in bouncy seats on the living room floor. Not you, too, Lila. So far, the most laid-back of the quadruplets merely blinked and shifted her tiny feet. Thank You, God, for one calm baby. Throw me some mercy with the other three. I’m drowning here.
The temperature in their remote part of Wyoming had dropped overnight, and if the baby nurse was outside, he’d better get her indoors before she changed her mind about taking the job. Since Belle hadn’t stirred from her room, Marshall debated what to do. Set the twins down? Attempt to answer the door? The wind howled, the crying became more urgent and his heart pounded like wild horses across the prairie. Before last week he’d never taken care of even one baby, let alone four.
He was terrible at this.
Gently bouncing both boys in an attempt to soothe them, he hurried to the entrance. Shifting Ben, Marshall unlocked the door and opened it.
The young woman standing on the doormat had sparkling green-gold eyes and a heart-shaped face. A red stocking cap topped with a pom-pom covered her long honey-blond hair. She smiled, and he did a double take. He hadn’t expected such an attractive woman to show up. The ratcheting cries didn’t let him linger on her appearance, though.
“Come in.” Marshall stepped aside for her to hang up her coat. “Follow me.”
He hurried to the open-concept living area, then looked down at the boys, their faces screwed up in distress. Now what? He was as close to surrender as he’d ever been.
“Let me.” Her soothing voice held authority. She took Max from him and made cooing noises. The baby calmed immediately, staring at her with one teardrop hanging from the outer edge of his eyelashes. “Aw, he’s precious. So tiny and sweet.”
Tiny, sweet and completely beyond him.
“Oh, you are a darling, aren’t you?” She cradled him and turned to Marshall, her eyes glowing with compassion. “I’m Ainsley Draper.”
“Marshall Graham.” He nodded gruffly. Ben was still crying, and Grace was, as well. Indecision made him hesitate. Did he pick up Grace? Or set Ben down so he could prepare more bottles? Were the babies even hungry? Did any of them need to be changed? Burped? Rocked? Anxiety gripped his torso, tying him in knots.
With Max in her arms, Ainsley carefully lowered herself to kneel in front of the girls. She made silly, kissy faces at them. Grace quieted, her tiny lips wobbling as she watched Ainsley. “Where is your wife?”
Wife? It had been years since he’d had a girlfriend, and he’d never had a wife.
“I’m not married.” Marshall placed Ben in a bouncy seat and locked the strap. The baby arched his back and cried louder. “These are my nieces and nephews. I’m helping my twin sister, Belle, and her husband, Raleigh, adjust to life with quadruplets.”
Adjust was one way of putting it. Ever since Belle had given birth to the two sets of identical twins five weeks ago, Marshall had been trying to help her any way he could. It was the least he could do given their miserable childhood. Although the quads had been home from the hospital for only a week, he was this close to running out to the barns and telling Raleigh it was his turn to deal with the infants. Marshall would rather check cattle for hours on end than change another diaper, which was saying something considering he didn’t relish his duties as a cowboy.
For the umpteenth time he wondered if his best friends, Clint, Nash and Wade, were right—maybe he shouldn’t be working as a ranch hand for Belle’s husband.
But memories rushed back of him and Belle when they were thirteen and fighting off abuse from their mother’s latest live-in boyfriend. Marshall had tried to stand up for Belle...and look where it had gotten him.
Separated from his twin. Sent to a group home for boys. Unable to protect Belle from that man.
He would never, ever let his sister down again.
“Oh, so you’re just here for a few days or something?” She moved Max to her other arm and turned Ben’s bouncy seat so he could face the girls. She began talking to Ben in a low, melodic voice. His crying ceased, followed by a pitiful sigh and a hiccup.
“How did you do that?” Marshall’s arms dropped to his sides as he stared at the back of Ainsley’s golden hair. She’d been there for—what, three minutes?—and she’d already quieted all four babies.
He suddenly understood the meaning of baby whisperer.
She peeked back over her shoulder at him. “Do what?”
“Get them to stop crying. I don’t think the house has been this quiet in a week.”
She laughed, the sound filling the air with tinkling joy. “I’ve been babysitting since I was twelve, and I worked at a day care center for years. I have a lot of experience. I will say quadruplets are a first for me, though.”
“For me, too.”
A flash of understanding passed between them, and he got lost in her pretty eyes. All the tension of being thrust into the role of babysitter dissolved. Help had arrived. He didn’t have to do this alone anymore.
He gestured to the kitchen. “I’ll get the bottles.”
“Is it time to feed them?” She’d turned back to the babies and was strapping Max in the fourth bouncy seat.
“I don’t know. What do you mean?”
“Are they on a schedule? When was the last time they ate?”
“I feed them constantly, but they barely eat anything, if that makes sense. All I do is prep bottles and try to feed them, then another fusses, and it’s just...” He didn’t bother finishing. He’d always considered himself self-reliant, but the past days had driven him to his limit.
“The sooner we get them on a schedule, the better. I’m assuming their mother is resting?”
Belle was resting all right. And avoiding her children along with the real world. He pinched the bridge of his nose. That wasn’t fair. She was recovering from their births and needed extra help and a lot of patience.
“Why don’t you get the bottles and then tell me their names? We’ll feed them together.”
Relief jolted through him. He loped to the kitchen and measured out the formula. When the bottles were ready, he tightened both hands around all four and returned to the living room. Ainsley had wrapped Lila and Grace in lightweight blankets. A pastel baby quilt was spread out between the couches, and Ainsley had propped each girl on the infant support pillows he’d never figured out what to do with. All the babies were getting fussy by the time she swaddled Ben.
“Go ahead and feed the girls.” Holding Ben, she took the other two infant support pillows out of the pile of baby paraphernalia in the corner. Within a few minutes, all four babies were snuggled on the floor, happily eating. Marshall held the girls’ bottles while Ainsley held the boys’.
“I can’t believe it.” He glanced at Ainsley, sitting a few feet from him on the floor. “They’re all eating at the same time. None of them are crying.”
“Yeah, isn’t it great?” She grinned. “They’re so itty-bitty. Tell me about them. What are their names? Are there any health problems I should know about?”
“They’re all healthy. Each one weighs around six and a half pounds, except for Lila. She’s the smallest of the bunch.” He pointed to one of the girls. “By the way, this one’s Lila.” He continued down the row. “Grace is here. That’s Ben. And Max is next to him.”
“How do you tell them apart?”
Heat rushed up his neck. His method was probably stupid.
“Don’t laugh, but every morning I mark Grace’s pinkie nail with a Sharpie. And I mark Max’s with one, too. It’s simple to tell the boys from the girls.”
She chuckled. “Smart. I would have done the same, except I would have used nail polish.”
“Nail polish might be better. I have to reapply the marker often.”
“Well, I’m sure these sweethearts will be napping before we know it. Then you can introduce me to your sister, and she can go over the babies’ care with me.”
He tried not to grimace. He supposed her reaction was normal. Of course a baby nurse would expect the mother to go over the infants’ needs with her. But Belle had barely lifted a finger to deal with the children since they’d come home from the hospital last week. If Ainsley was looking for guidance from his sister, she was going to be disappointed. He hoped Belle didn’t make a scene. If Ainsley left, he didn’t know what he would do.
* * *
She’d been there for two hours and still hadn’t caught sight of the babies’ parents. Was Marshall the only one taking care of them?
Ainsley carried Max and Ben down a hallway to a bedroom with four white cribs. Marshall held the sleeping girls and carefully set them in the same crib. He hitched his chin for her to put the boys into one with navy sheets. When she’d gotten them settled, she tiptoed out of the room with Marshall at her heels.
Her initial plan of meeting the mother and father, going over the babies’ schedules and getting a tour of the place before crashing in her room for a while clearly wasn’t happening. The long drive from Laramie had wiped her out, but she’d be able to rest later. She hoped so, at least.
She made her way to the living room, swiping up empty bottles and taking them to the kitchen. The sink overflowed with dirty dishes. Half-filled baby bottles littered the counter. A canister of baby formula powder with the cover off was next to the coffeemaker.
“Uh, sorry it’s such a mess.” Marshall slapped the formula cover on, then opened the dishwasher and unloaded the top shelf. “Been chaotic around here.”
“I’m sure.” Maybe she was overreacting about not meeting the actual parents. His sister might have had complications from the birth. Now wasn’t the time to make snap judgments. She’d simply do her best to figure out what was going on. “So it sounds like you’ve been really hands-on with the quads. Is their mother having a hard time with recovery?”
“Um, I guess.” He didn’t look her way as he shoved dirty plates into the dishwasher. “I don’t know much about that stuff.”
No, the gorgeous cowboy in front of her couldn’t be expected to know about recovering from birth, could he? His formfitting black T-shirt had a drip of spit-up on the sleeve. A belt buckle with a tractor on it kept his jeans in place. She could easily picture a cowboy hat on top of his short dark hair. She wasn’t sure if his stubble was the result of not having time to shave or if he kept it that way on purpose. Either way, it added to his appeal. Or maybe the fact he’d been holding two tiny babies when he’d opened the door earlier made him a solid ten in her eyes.
A man who protected the helpless was an attractive man indeed.
If Marshall had told her he was the quadruplets’ father, she would have quit. It wouldn’t be fair to the babies’ mother or father to have a nurse who had the hots for their daddy. But since he was their uncle and single, she could stay with no guilt on her conscience. It wasn’t as if she was looking for romance, anyhow. After Christmas her sole focus would be on going back to Laramie, getting into the nursing program and finishing her degree.
“How long do they usually nap?” She peered around for the typical infant supplies. No clean bottles were lined up. She didn’t see a container with nipples or pacifiers. Where were the bottle brushes?
“Nap?” He finished loading the dishwasher, popped in a cleaning tab and pressed the start button. “They don’t usually sleep at the same time.”
“What do you mean?” She circled him to get to the sink and began filling it with hot water. Unscrewing the bottles, she dumped out the old formula into the adjoining basin before tossing them into the soapy water.
“It depends on when they’re eating. It’s like if one is sleeping, another is hungry.”
She checked under the sink for cleaning supplies. A bottle brush and a package of rubber gloves hid behind the dish soap. She slid on a pair of gloves and began washing the bottles.
“How does your sister manage them?”
“Belle?” He wiped his hands on a towel and leaned against the counter. “She’s been real tired.”
She rinsed the first bottle and looked around for a place to set it. “Do you have a bottle dryer? Or dish towel?”
“Yes. Here.” He flicked open a drawer and grabbed two dish towels. Slung one over his arm and spread out the other next to the sink. “I’ll take that. If you wash, I’ll rinse.”
“What about their father? Does anyone else come in to help? A night nurse? Grandmother? Anyone?”
She watched him out of the corner of her eye. The muscle in his cheek leaped.
“No, Raleigh is busy. I wish his mother could have been here to help with the little ones, but she died last year. He inherited Dushane Ranch and has his hands full keeping it going, so he can’t be in here all day with the babies. And Belle and I don’t have a mother anymore. That’s why I hired you.”
He hired her? “I thought the babies’ parents hired me.”
“They’ll be glad you’re here. When Dottie Lavert told me she knew someone who might be willing to help for a while, I asked her to contact you.”
“Dottie made it sound as if your sister—Belle—wanted me to come.” A sense of foreboding spilled over her. If neither parent was stepping up to their responsibilities for these babies, Ainsley could be put in a no-win situation. “I don’t want Belle resenting me.”
“She won’t. Look, Belle was desperate for these children. She’s going through a rough patch, but she’ll be thankful to have you helping with them.” He rinsed the bottles and placed them on the towel to dry.
Somehow, Ainsley wasn’t so sure. Something didn’t seem quite right on Dushane Ranch.
“So let me make sure I’ve got this straight.” She washed the final bottle. “You’re taking care of the babies pretty much by yourself?”
“I wouldn’t say that. I’m taking a break from my ranch duties to be here during the day. Belle and Raleigh handle the babies at night.” His eyes shifted to the side. Was he lying? And what did he mean by taking a break from his ranch duties?
She let the water out of the sink. “I’m sure your sister and her husband will tell me the system that works for them.”
“I don’t think they have a system.” He cleared his throat. “I come over in the wee hours once in a while if Belle texts me.”
“Wait, I’m confused. Where do you live?”
He pointed out the kitchen window, which showed views of frozen pastures and distant mountains. “In the second cabin. Right next to yours.”
“You work here?” She hadn’t expected him to be employed on the ranch. He nodded, but he didn’t look very happy about it. She tried to shake her thoughts into some sort of order. Grabbing the dishcloth, she wiped down the counters.
“Yeah,” he said. “For now.”
“What do you mean?”
Color rose to his cheeks. “Nothing. I’ll be here for as long as Belle needs me.”
“Well, we’d better get on the same page with these babies. You know I’m only here until after the holidays, right?”
His rich brown eyes looked sheepish. “Until New Year’s Eve. We’ve got you for just over six weeks.”
She almost grunted. He wouldn’t have her for even one week if she sensed dysfunction. Growing up with an alcoholic father had soured her on trying to fix other people’s problems. How many times had she tried to save her dad from himself? Too many. Worse, she’d put her own life and dreams on hold for years. And what had it gotten her?
Nothing.
That’s why she relied on herself. If she found a man who put her first and kept his word, she might be interested in starting a family someday, but finding a guy like that was a tall order.
The best thing she’d ever done was wash her hands clean of her father and his addiction. Three years ago she’d moved to Laramie and enrolled in the University of Wyoming to become a nurse. She’d finished her first two years of schooling, but she was still waiting to get into the highly competitive nursing program. Her college adviser had informed her of a position opening at the hospital in January, which would greatly increase her chances of getting accepted.
Ainsley had already applied for the job. She’d find out in a few weeks if she got it or not. In the meantime, working as a baby nurse would pay her bills and, hopefully, help her get one of the coveted spots in the program.
Marshall waved for them to go back to the living room. She sat on one of the couches. He sat on the other.
“I don’t want you thinking you’re here under false pretenses.” His knees were wide, and his elbows rested on them. “I’ve got a cabin ready for you, so you’ll have your privacy. The hours are long, but you’ll only be on days. No nights. Can you be here from eight in the morning until six?”
“Will I be taking care of the quadruplets all by myself?”
“No, I’ll help, too.”
Him? But what about their mother?
“Don’t you think Belle should be involved?” she asked. Six weeks would pass in a blink, and it would be better if Belle was as hands-on as possible. Ideally, Raleigh would be changing diapers and feeding babies during the day, too, but given his ranch duties, she doubted he’d have time. Hopefully when Ainsley left, Belle wouldn’t be overwhelmed trying to care for the children on her own.
“Yes, she should, and if all goes according to plan, I can resume helping Raleigh outside soon.”
Nothing ever went according to plan, not in her life, at least. That’s why she didn’t leave anything she could control to chance. As far as this situation went, she might as well take charge now.
“I suggest we color-code these babies. I’ve got stickers and markers in my car. I’m going to need you to show me where everything—bottles, bibs, diapers—is stored. When I arrive each morning, I’ll make up bottles for the next twenty-four hours and put them in the fridge. All we’ll have to do is warm them up. And we’re keeping track of how much and when each baby eats. Don’t worry. I have charts.”
A sense of empowerment rushed up her spine. Maybe she’d been looking at this all wrong. Instead of seeing the potential pitfalls—like four tiny infants and an absent mother and father—she’d focus on the pluses. No system? No problem. She’d impose her own methods on the quadruplets. She’d get them on a schedule.
When Ainsley left, Belle would be comfortable caring for her babies. A surge of purpose filled her chest.
A shuffling sound came from the hallway.
“What is going on?” A beautiful woman with flashing brown eyes and a mane of long black hair appeared in the archway. “Why is this stranger in my living room, Marshall?”
* * *
Just when he’d been concentrating on the delicious phrases of color-code these babies and don’t worry I have charts, his sister had to go and kill his good mood. He’d told her he was hiring a baby nurse. He’d gotten Raleigh’s approval, too.
“This is Ainsley Draper, the baby nurse we hired. Ainsley, this is my sister, Belle Dushane.” He held his breath, waiting to see how Belle would react. His twinstincts told him not well.
“Your babies are beautiful.” Ainsley sailed across the room to shake Belle’s hand. Her smile brightened the atmosphere. “It’s so nice to meet you.”
Belle regarded her with distaste and limply shook her hand. Glaring at his sister, Marshall clenched his jaw. She merely raised an eyebrow. He’d always wished he could do the same. His sister certainly had the haughty gesture down pat.
“We don’t need a baby nurse.” Belle made a shooing motion. “So thank you for coming, but—”
One of the babies let out a cry. Marshall rubbed his temples. Here we go again.
Ainsley gestured to the hallway. “Since I’m here, do you want me to stay awhile and help change them?”
Belle’s face flushed. “Marshall and I can do it.”
Was his sister crazy? Did she honestly think they were in any way succeeding at taking care of quadruplets? They were in way over their heads.
“I understand.” Ainsley slowly turned to leave.
“Ainsley, wait.” Marshall thrust his hand out. “Stay for a while. We’ll sort this out.”
Belle snapped her fingers at him. “Come on.”
That did it. His sister had crossed many lines lately, and he’d had enough. One of the other babies joined in with the crying. His head began to throb.
“No, Belle.” He widened his stance and crossed his arms over his chest. “Don’t snap your fingers at me. And don’t even think about sending Ainsley away. We need help.”
Her chin inclined, and her eyes glinted. “I don’t need anyone taking care of my babies.” Tossing her hair over her shoulder, she stormed down the hall. Marshall debated whether to follow her. If he hadn’t shared a womb with her, he’d be tempted to run out the door.
“Should I talk to her?” Ainsley’s confused face eased his tension. She didn’t seem horrified by his sister’s behavior, although he certainly was.
“No, I’ll handle it.” He entered the babies’ room, and his annoyance vanished. Silent sobs racked Belle’s back as she stood with her face in her hands over the girls’ crib.
“What’s wrong?” The girls were crying, too, but he figured they could wait.
“I don’t know which one is which, Marsh. I don’t know my own babies.” She stared up at him with those eyes that had pleaded with him so many times over the years to fix it, and he muttered under his breath.
“We’re going to change that.” With his finger, he raised her chin to look at him. “Four infants are a lot. And I can’t do this all by myself, Belle. I know you don’t feel well. I don’t expect you to be some superwoman. But I’m clueless—I don’t know what I’m doing. Ainsley is good with the babies, so let her stay.”
He picked up one of the girls. “Here’s Lila. The one with the black pinkie nail is Grace. Let’s change them.”
She swallowed, looking as if she faced a rattler instead of a baby.
He took Grace to one of the changing tables and began unsnapping her coverall. “Who’s the prettiest little cowgirl this side of Sweet Dreams, Wyoming?” He cooed. “You’re going to break hearts, darlin’.” When he’d finished, he picked her back up and turned to see how Belle was doing with Lila. She wasn’t in the room. He checked the crib. Lila wasn’t either.
He held Grace to his chest and returned to the living room, hanging back at the sight before him. Belle was handing the baby to Ainsley.
“I’m not feeling well.” Belle’s face was pinched. “I’m sorry I was rude earlier. Of course we want you to stay.”
Ainsley’s eyes widened, but she nodded and took the baby. “Why don’t you tell me what your expectations are? I want us to be on the same page with their care. I did some research before driving here, and I’d like to use a color system to help manage them.”
Belle fidgeted with her wedding ring. “Yes, the color thing sounds good.”
“Sit with me?” Shifting Lila to her other arm, Ainsley patted the couch. “Tell me about the babies. What are their personalities like? Should I be concerned about anything?”
Belle’s throat worked. She shook her head. “I...I don’t feel well. We’ll talk later.” Then she spun and fled past Marshall down the hallway to her bedroom.
He exhaled, his cheeks puffing out. At least she’d apologized to Ainsley. But what if the damage had been done? Was the apology enough to make Ainsley stay?
“I’m sorry,” he said. “This must be the worst first day ever for you.”
“No, I’ve had some doozies.” Her lips curved up and, though her eyes twinkled, concern radiated from them. “Do you think your sister is all right? Should I check on her?”
“I’ll do it. Be right back.” Still holding Grace, he retreated down the hall to speak with Belle. Grace blinked up at him, and he kissed her little nose. Then he knocked on Belle’s door.
“Go away.”
“I’m coming in.”
“I wish you wouldn’t.”
“Too bad.”
He slipped into her room. The closed curtains, unmade bed and darkness made the air feel thick, stale. She sat slumped on the edge of the bed with her face in her hands. He lowered his body to sit next to her, keeping a firm grip on Grace as he did.
“What’s going on, sis?”
“Nothing. I’m tired.”
“I know you are. It’s not easy being a mama.” He patted her knee. “Are you okay with Ainsley staying?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I wish I felt good enough to take care of all the babies myself.”
“Well, four is a lot. You’re being too hard on yourself. I don’t think most people could do it all on their own. But eventually you will, and in the meantime, I’ll pop in and out to help Ainsley—until you’re up to it yourself, okay?”
“Thanks, Marshall.” She looked ready to cry again. “I guess I could use help with the babies.”
“Good. Why don’t you take a nap? I’ll show Ainsley her cabin later.”
“Cabin?” Her spine went rigid. “She needs to sleep here. In the main house. How else will she take care of the babies at night?”
He squeezed his eyes shut. Did his sister think Ainsley was going to work round the clock? “I hired her to help during the day.”
“But you’re here during the day.”
All the sympathy he’d mustered disappeared. He tightened his hold on Grace.
“Belle, I can’t do this. Not by myself. Not all the time.”
“Well, I can’t either. Do you know how hard it is to feed four babies at night?”
“Yes, I do, because you text me to come help every single night. I’m exhausted.”
She dismissed his words with a backward wave. “Well, it’s worse for me. You don’t know. I’ll have Raleigh put the blow-up mattress in the babies’ room for her.”
He gaped at her. “Do you hear yourself? She’s not sleeping on the floor in the babies’ room. She needs her own space.”
Belle glared at him.
“Look, Ainsley already agreed to work ten-hour days, which is more than most people would. She’ll be here from eight in the morning until six at night. You two can get the babies figured out, and when she leaves after the holidays, you’ll be an old pro at it.”
“But January is so soon.” She looked nauseous. “You need to hire someone else. Someone permanent.”
“I tried. No one replied to my ad.”
After a few minutes of silence, she gave him a sheepish grin. “You couldn’t have found an ugly baby nurse, could you?”
An unattractive helper would make things easier on him, but he wasn’t concerned about romance. He didn’t think he was capable of having a loving, committed relationship. He hadn’t found a woman who understood his devotion to his sister, and he doubted he would. The only family he had was Belle and the quadruplets, and he wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize it.
He patted her shoulder. “You have nothing to worry about. You’re the most beautiful woman around.”
“Yeah, right.” She held out the bottom of her faded blue T-shirt. “You’re such a liar.”
“Me? Nah. I’m going back out there and making sure you didn’t scare her off. Now give Grace a kiss, and we’ll let you rest.”
Fear flashed in her eyes so quickly he wondered if he’d imagined it. She kissed Grace’s forehead and squeezed Marshall’s hand. “Thanks.”
He stood, hitching his chin to her. “I’ll always be here for you.”
With watery eyes, she nodded.
One hurdle cleared. He walked by the babies’ room and heard Ben and Max stirring. Continuing into the living room, he stopped in his tracks.
Lila was strapped in her bouncy seat.
And Ainsley was gone.
Chapter Two (#u8549a9a8-41e4-51c4-ae97-1acb82c6d969)
The babies and Marshall needed her.
Ainsley reached into the trunk of her car in search of a bag she’d packed. Snow had begun to fall, and the wind was gentler than when she’d arrived. Shivering, she stomped her feet. Her favorite blanket was folded neatly on top of her supplies, and she spotted a patch of blue beneath it—the tote with markers, stickers and charts.
Belle needed her, too, but didn’t want to admit it. Ainsley kind of understood. She didn’t particularly enjoy asking for help either. As long as Belle didn’t resent her presence, everything would be fine.
Well, that wasn’t quite true. The resentment issue wasn’t the only problem. Belle didn’t expect Ainsley to take over all of the babies’ care, did she?
And what about Marshall? Working with a hot, doting cowboy had better not blur her focus. She had big goals and couldn’t lose sight of them. She had to take care of herself. No one else was going to.
After pulling out the tote bag, she slammed the trunk shut. She had over six weeks to make a difference in the quadruplets’ lives, and she was ready to start now. She was getting these infants on a schedule.
Tightening her winter jacket around her throat, she ducked her head against the snow and scurried to the porch. The ranch house was a long, one-story wooden building with a covered porch devoid of decoration at the moment. She could imagine the posts strung with white Christmas lights and a large evergreen wreath hanging on the door.
Glancing up, she almost jumped. Marshall had stepped outside onto the faded welcome mat. He opened the door for her. “For a minute I thought you’d taken off.”
She shook her hair free of snow and pushed past him into the house. “Why would you think that?”
“Well...” He scratched the back of his neck, closing the door behind them. “My sister wasn’t exactly welcoming.”
She took off her coat and hung it on a hook in the entry. “Oh, no worries. She wants me to stay.”
He searched her face until heat blasted her neck. Why was he looking at her so intently? With the tote over her shoulder, she strode into the living room, where both girls were in their bouncy seats, happily sucking on pacifiers. The boys’ squawks from their room hadn’t gone into full-blown crying...yet.
“Let’s get the boys changed.” She waved for him to follow her. “Then we’ll figure out a way forward with these babies.”
“Has anyone told you you’re efficient?” He was at her side in lightning speed.
She almost laughed, continuing to the boys’ crib. “Yes, and it’s usually not a compliment.”
“Trust me, it’s a compliment. At least from me.”
Ainsley picked up Ben, and Marshall took Max. Side by side they changed diapers, then went back to the living room. After settling the boys in their bouncy seats facing the girls, Ainsley and Marshall took opposite couches.
“If you’re too tired to do this right now...”
“No, I’m fine.” She was tired, but she wanted to get a plan nailed down as soon as possible. She placed a pouch with markers, a folder full of stickers, her trusty clipboard and the stacks of various charts she’d printed on the coffee table. Laying them out in precise order, she reviewed the spread to make sure she wasn’t missing anything. With a satisfied nod, she straightened and gave Marshall her full attention. “First, let’s assign each baby a color.”
“Okay.” Skepticism thinned his lips.
“What?” She excelled at three things: organizing, helping those in need and reading people. “Something’s bothering you.”
“It’s not bothering me, but...could you explain the color dealie? My expertise is not in babies. I’m good at fixing large farm equipment and taking care of cattle. I’m pretty new at quadruplets.”
“Of course.” She peeked at the children—all quiet, thankfully. “Each child is assigned a color, and everything will be marked with it.”
“You mean their clothes?”
“Yes, we’ll dot the tags with permanent marker.”
“Most of their clothes don’t have tags.”
“Well, we’ll figure it out. The clothes aren’t the main thing. We’ll color the bottom of each bottle. And we’ll place stickers on the bouncy seats, car carriers and so on.”
“Oh, I get it.” He brought his hands behind his head, leaning back. She couldn’t help noticing his muscular arms. “What about pacifiers and stuff?”
“I think it will be too difficult to separate pacifiers. I guess we could put them into plastic storage bins labeled with their color. We can keep marking the pinkies of Grace and Max with markers, and I think this will be another way for us to keep the twins straight. Especially at bath time when the marker might wash off.”
“Good idea.”
“Let’s assign the colors.” She slid out a sheet of red, blue, green and yellow stickers. “Who gets what?”
“I don’t know.” He tapped his fingertips against his jeans.
“Who’s the happiest?” It would be fun to match the babies with colors representing their personalities. She waited for Marshall to reply.
“Easy. Lila.”
“She gets yellow. It’s the color of sunshine and joy.” Ainsley held up a yellow sticker. She then placed it on a piece of paper and wrote Lila next to it. “Who’s the most energetic?”
“Ben. Definitely. His cries go from zero to ten like that.” He snapped his fingers.
“Ben gets red. The color of fire and passion.” She placed the red sticker on the paper and wrote Ben next to it. “What about Grace and Max? Do either show signs of being a peacemaker? Or like they are attentive to the other babies’ feelings? I know this might seem silly considering how young they are.”
He considered it for a moment. “You know, I think Grace does. I never realized it, but if Max and Ben are crying, she usually joins in.”
“It bothers her to see her brothers upset.”
“It’s possible.”
“She gets green, the color of nature and harmony. Does Max seem to be more stable than the other babies? Trusting?”
“He’s five weeks old. I really couldn’t say.”
“You’re right.” She laughed. “Whether it suits him or not, Max gets blue, the color of the sky and stability.” After writing his name, she took out another sheet of stickers, crossed to Marshall and handed him one. “Let’s mark the bouncy seats, then make up bottles for the rest of the night.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He grinned, rising. “You’re not going to ask me to put these on their foreheads, are you?”
“No, of course not.” She shook her head. Marshall had a good sense of humor. Another trait she admired. She circled the bouncy seats, not seeing a good place to put the stickers. “Where do you think these should go?”
“Why don’t we put a couple on each? One on the back, and we’ll wrap two around the front legs.”
They marked the seats and surveyed their work. It was a start. Max’s pacifier fell out, and he made loud grunting noises.
“I know what that means.” Marshall rolled his eyes. “I’ll take this one.”
She knelt in front of the other three while he changed Max. They were so little. Smaller than the average baby the same age. They looked like newborns. Humming, she placed her index finger next to Ben’s fist. He flexed his hand, then curled it around her finger. The pacifier bobbed as he sucked on it.
“You’re a little cutie, aren’t you?” She opened her mouth and made faces at him. His hand tightened around her finger. What a sweetheart.
Marshall returned, carrying Max. “You’re glad you missed that one.” He waved his hand in front of his nose.
She chuckled, but it turned into a yawn. It had been a long day of packing, driving and...this.
“Hey, why don’t you kick up your feet on the sofa and rest? When Belle wakes, I’ll show you to your cabin.”
“You don’t mind? I’d like nothing more than to cuddle with these sweet babies for a while.”
“Really?” He frowned as if the concept was foreign to him.
“Yes.” She unstrapped Ben and took him in her arms; then she unstrapped Grace and brought both babies to the couch. “Infants grow up so fast. I’d like to enjoy this while I can.”
He blinked, then followed her lead, taking Lila and Max to the other couch.
Neither spoke for several minutes. The silence gave Ainsley the space she needed to register things she’d missed. The decor was homey. A framed picture of Belle and her husband on their wedding day stood on the end table. The dining room table was stacked with supplies and a pile of what appeared to be unopened mail. In the corner, a laundry basket held stuffed animals and baby toys. Burp cloths and rattles were scattered around it. Two used bottles had rolled under the coffee table.
This was a warm home, but, from the looks of it, the babies’ arrival had chilled it a bit. She’d tidy everything later. For now, she’d enjoy the wonder of two precious little ones in her arms.
Babies. How she’d love to have some of her own.
The jagged scar down her heart throbbed. Love and marriage came before kids. She didn’t know if she had it in her to try that combination—even for children. Love clouded a woman’s judgment. And marriage came with commitment. She couldn’t cut and run from a husband the way she had from her father.
She’d stick to getting into nursing school. A career could never let her down the way love could.
* * *
“What’s so funny?” Belle sounded irritated.
Marshall peered at his sister over the open refrigerator door later. Her mussed hair and puffy eyes told him she’d woken from a long nap. He hadn’t seen her for hours, not since he’d talked to her about Ainsley staying. Speaking of Ainsley, she was holding one of the girls and had propped bottles up for the other three in their bouncy seats. Not one of them made a peep. Usually they took turns crying all afternoon. But the on-and-off crying session had lasted only forty-five minutes today—all because of Ainsley.
Maybe with more peace and quiet, Belle would get more involved with them. And maybe the strain between her and Raleigh would go away.
Marshall stepped back. “Oh, Ben’s tongue curled over his lip when he woke up. He looked silly.” He motioned for Belle. “Check this out. All the bottles you’ll need for the night.”
“I’ll need?” She popped a hand on her hip and glowered at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
His good mood collapsed. “Let me rephrase that. You and Raleigh will need.”
“Like Raleigh will do anything.” She pushed her hair behind her ear.
“Did I hear my name?” Raleigh came in through the back breezeway, his cheeks red from the cold and his hair flattened against his head from the hat he’d taken off. He shivered and rubbed his palms together. “Wait. Something’s different.” He squinted. “Why aren’t the babies crying?”
Belle studied her fingernails.
Marshall waved for Raleigh to join him in the living room. “Come and meet Ainsley Draper.”
“Oh, right, the baby nurse.”
Ainsley winced as she hauled herself to her feet. Guilt tugged on Marshall’s conscience. She’d been helping with the babies since the minute she’d arrived, and she looked worn out. After Raleigh grinned and wiggled his fingers at the babies, Marshall made the introductions.
“I sure am glad to have you here, Ainsley.” Raleigh jerked his thumb toward Marshall. “It’s been brutal not having him helping me with the cattle.”
She smiled politely. Marshall didn’t know what to say. These were Raleigh’s babies, for crying out loud. Didn’t the man care that the quadruplets needed him more than the cows did? He had other ranch hands. It wasn’t as if Marshall was indispensable out there.
“Seeing how the ladies have the babies under control, you’ll be out tomorrow to prep for the cattle sale, right?” The tall, lean man with piercing blue eyes had tough written all over him. Raleigh had grown up on this ranch working the land with his father.
“No, Raleigh, he won’t.” Belle charged into the room. “Marshall promised he’d be around to help Ainsley.”
“Why can’t you?” he asked quietly, a defiant glint in his eyes.
“I can’t believe you even asked that.”
Marshall could feel the tension building. Grace’s bottle rolled out of her mouth and she began to cry.
“See what you did?” Belle pointed to the baby, then to Raleigh. “She was fine until you marched in here. You’re so loud.”
“Come on,” Marshall said to Ainsley. He knew where this was heading, and he didn’t want Ainsley getting any more reasons to leave. “It’s been a long day. I’ll show you to your cabin.”
She nodded, setting Lila in her seat before going to the hall to get her coat and bag.
He glanced over his shoulder. “Belle, there’s a casserole from one of the church ladies in the oven. Give it thirty minutes. We’ll see you tomorrow.”
“You’re leaving?”
He didn’t respond. Instead, he swiped his coat and cowboy hat before ushering Ainsley outside. He led the way to her car. After opening the door for her and waiting for her to get in, he leaned over. “Follow the drive around the house and stay left. You’ll see a row of cabins. Park in front of the first one. I’ll unlock it for you.”
“Don’t you want a ride?”
“Nah, I like the fresh air. Clears my head.” He straightened and shut her door.
Once her engine started, he hiked down the driveway to the cabins. Darkness had fallen, and the wind drove small snow pellets to the ground. He shrugged into his jacket collar and shoved his hands into his pockets.
What was going on between Belle and Raleigh? Part of him wanted to rush back to the house and make sure she was okay. But Raleigh had never gotten physical with her, unlike their mother’s boyfriends. Still, Marshall didn’t like the dynamic he’d been seeing lately. Raleigh seemed to resent Belle, and Belle sassed him on a regular basis. Not that Marshall blamed her...
He sighed. He’d keep trying to do his best to make life easier on them. He’d quit a job he’d enjoyed to help out with the quads, and it wasn’t like Belle had planned on having four babies at once. Who could have predicted the two embryos implanted would split into two sets of identical twins?
Belle needed him.
And he’d be there for her. Even if he didn’t like the ranch life very much and wasn’t good at baby care.
Ainsley’s car passed him, and he pushed his legs to move faster. When he reached her cabin, she was standing behind the open trunk. He unlocked the front door of her cabin and adjusted the thermostat higher. He’d stopped in last night to give it a quick cleaning. The one-bedroom log structure should meet her needs.
The stomping of feet made him pivot. Snow outlined her shoes on the mat inside the front door. She passed through the short hallway lined with a bench and hooks for coats and scarves.
“This is cute.” She craned her neck side to side to take the space in.
The gleaming log walls gave it a cozy feel. Lighter hardwood floors matched the wooden beams of the ceiling. The right half of the room consisted of a square wooden table with two chairs next to the rustic kitchenette. The left half was a living area with a tan-and-white-checked couch, recliner, coffee table and a television on a stand. Windows hid behind tan curtains on each wall, and area rugs protected feet from the chill.
“Here, let me get your bags.” He took the suitcases from her grasp, his fingers brushing hers in the process. A surge of warmth raced up his arms. “Follow me. I’ll give you the tour. Dining. Living. Kitchen. Sorry, no dishwasher, but everything else works fine. Anything not on the open shelves, you’ll find in the cupboards.” He strode through the small space to the back. “Bathroom to the right. Bedroom to the left.”
“Oh, I wasn’t expecting this.” She set her purse on the bed. With her finger trailing the puffy white duvet, she rounded the footboard and pushed open the curtains of one of the windows in the snug bedroom. “It’s lovely.”
He lined her suitcases against the wall and stepped back to survey it. He supposed she was right. The white curtains had a tan curlicue design. Fluffy white rugs were on the floor—nothing a cowboy would buy for sure.
“I’m guessing I have a view of the mountains during the daytime.” She let the curtain fall across the window again.
“You sure do. I have the same view. I’m right next door.”
Her long lashes curled to her eyebrows, and those green-gold eyes arrested him, made him lose his train of thought. Now that he was putting two and two together, this cabin was feminine like her. His had the same layout, but his beams and floor were dark like the walls, and the furniture was masculine. In the months he’d lived on Dushane Ranch, no one had ever stayed in this cabin. Until now.
She looked like she belonged here.
His female interaction had been limited to Belle for longer than he cared to admit. And now was not a good time for that to change.
He hooked his thumbs in his belt loops. “I’ll let you get settled. Come next door in, say, thirty minutes. I’ll have supper waiting for you.” He spun on his heel to leave.
“You don’t have to make me supper.”
He strode to the entrance, wishing her words were true. Would make life easier if he wasn’t around someone so pretty and nice, but he would be, and he couldn’t let her starve.
“It’s no trouble. There are only a few dried goods in here.” He tipped his hat to her. “See you in half an hour.”
Out on the porch, the clean, frigid air froze his nostrils, and he almost laughed. Winter in Wyoming. Good thing he didn’t mind cold weather. Too bad he didn’t like the situation he was in. Cowboying for his tough-as-nails brother-in-law. Soothing his poor sister. Caring for his nephews and nieces. And fighting an unanticipated attraction to the baby nurse.
He must be out of his mind to stay.
What was the alternative? He’d rather be here with Belle and his nieces and nephews than out there with no one.
Being out of his mind beat being lonely any day of the week.
* * *
What a bizarre day.
Ainsley finished stacking her sweaters, leggings and jeans in the dresser, then went to the living room and sprawled out on the couch. She still had fifteen minutes before heading next door. After hours of baby care and trying to make sense of Belle’s baffling behavior, Ainsley wasn’t sure what to think of being the baby nurse on Dushane Ranch. Was Belle really just tired, or was she neglecting her children? Maybe Marshall could give her some insight about his sister tonight.
It would give her something to think about other than the fact she would be eating with the hunky cowboy who impressed her with his devotion. Frankly, he seemed a little too good to be true.
The man must have a flaw.
They all did.
She took in the room. A soothing retreat. Unfussy. The furniture was neutral, the wooden walls and floors inviting. Even the open shelves in the kitchen pleased the eye with their collection of white dishes. She’d enjoy coming home to this every day.
She had a feeling she was going to need a restful place to decompress each night. The babies were not a problem as far as she was concerned. Their parents on the other hand...
Belle and Raleigh were already stressing her out, and she’d been here less than twenty-four hours. She’d never been around a mother who wasn’t hovering over her infant. Sure, quadruplets were vastly different from one child, but shouldn’t Belle have shown a sliver of interest in holding and feeding them? She’d practically thrown Lila into Ainsley’s arms earlier before vanishing.
Then there was Raleigh. Typical rancher. The man probably paid more attention to the calves in the pastures than his own babies. Ainsley was used to men like him. Her father had been cut from the same cloth. He’d worked on several ranches when she was little.
Thinking about her dad always pinched her heart. He loved her in his own way. She loved him, too. But she hadn’t been able to stick around and watch him destroy his life. His love for her had never matched his love of alcohol.
Leaving him had been like stabbing a knife in her own heart. It still hurt. Probably always would.
She glanced at her watch. The fifteen minutes were up. She shoved her feet into boots, eased into her coat, then strolled next door. A path through the snow had been cleared between the cabins. About twenty feet separated their porch steps. Her spirits lightened as she watched her breath materialize in wispy puffs. One of the wonders of winter.
His porch light was on, and a shovel with snow caked on the bottom was propped against the side rail. The man was thoughtful. Another thing to add to his growing list of virtues.
She knocked on the door and heard, “coming,” and then Marshall stood before her with a ladle in hand. He grinned. “You didn’t get lost.”
“It wasn’t hard to find.” She gave him a smile, taking off her coat and boots. She blew on her hands. “What can I help with?”
“You can set the table.” He backtracked to the kitchenette, identical to hers, except everything in this cabin was dark wood. The place reeked of masculinity. While it suited him, she preferred her pretty space.
Plates, bowls, silverware and paper napkins had been piled near the edge of the table. She made up two place settings. The unmistakable aroma of chili filled the air. He tossed her a pot holder, and she caught it, setting it on the table.
“Hope you’re not a vegetarian,” he said.
“Isn’t that illegal in Wyoming?”
His laugh was low and hearty. It sent flutters through her chest. After carrying the chili to the table, he hustled back to the oven and pulled out a cast-iron pan of corn bread.
“Wow, when did you have time to do all this?” She took a seat at the table.
“I didn’t have to. The slow cooker did all the work.” He ladled chili into each of their bowls. She cut the corn bread into slices and set one on his plate.
His spoon was poised above his food, but she cleared her throat. He glanced up.
“Would you like me to say grace?” she asked.
He set the spoon down and folded his hands.
“Dear Lord, thank You for this delicious meal. Please let it nourish us and give us the strength to care for Your precious babies tomorrow. In Jesus’s name, amen.”
“Amen.”
“Marshall?” She slathered butter on her corn bread. “Would you mind telling me more about Belle and Raleigh?”
His eyebrows drew together, and he seemed really into his food. “What do you want to know?”
“How long have they been married? How did they end up with quadruplets?” Why is your sister ambivalent about the babies? She took a bite of chili. Spicy, meaty, it hit the spot. “By the way, this is absolutely delicious.”
“Thanks.” The side of his mouth tweaked upward. “They’ve been married for three years. Raleigh had cancer in his early twenties and the doctors advised him the treatment would affect his chances at having children, so he took the advice of a fertility specialist. Belle was well aware the only way they’d have biological children was with medical help. They started the process right after the honeymoon. Their first attempts didn’t take. They decided to try in vitro fertilization. Two embryos were implanted. They both split. And two sets of identical twins were born.”
“That must have been shocking. I had no idea.” She ran through a few mental calculations. Belle would have been on hormone therapy before getting pregnant. Then the fact she was having four babies would have sent her natural hormones into overdrive. Since she’d given birth five weeks ago, there was a good chance her entire body was out of whack. “So I take it both of them wanted the babies?”
“Oh, yeah. They were ecstatic when they heard the news. Honestly, up until she gave birth, Belle was happier than I’d ever seen her.”
“And Raleigh?”
“I don’t know.” He turned his attention to the chili. “He’s hard to read.”
His attitude confused her. He positively lit up talking about Belle, but when the topic changed to Raleigh, he shut down. She thought about her first impression of Raleigh. He’d beamed at the babies before he’d spoken to her. Sure, he’d been more concerned with having Marshall back on ranch duties than with what the babies needed, but did it make him a bad parent?
“I’m hoping with you here—” Marshall glanced at her “—some of the pressure will be off Belle.”
“Pressure? You mean with the babies?” She hadn’t been deaf to the undercurrents in the conversation back at the main house. Belle wanted help with the quads. Raleigh wanted help with the ranch. And Marshall wanted...what did he want?
“Yeah.” He took another bite, and she took the opportunity to study his face. His handsome features and strong bone structure weren’t enough to hide the fact he looked completely exhausted, as if he hadn’t had a full night’s rest in a week.
What if he hadn’t? He’d mentioned stopping over in the wee hours to help Belle sometimes, but surely he hadn’t meant every night?
No. She almost shook her head. Belle and Raleigh were there. Between the two of them, they could manage feeding the quadruplets.
Lost in her thoughts, she continued to enjoy the meal. The lamp next to the couch cast a welcoming glow on the living room, and the overhead lights added a cozy cheerfulness to the small room. The light whoosh of the wind outside added to the atmosphere. A pleasant place to enjoy a hot meal on a night like this.
“What about you, Ainsley?” He met her eyes, and she felt exposed, like he could see right into her heart. “You made it clear you’d only be here through the holidays. What do you have lined up after that?”
“I applied for a job at the hospital in Laramie. I’m trying to get into the nursing program at the university. I already have my first two years out of the way, but the program is competitive. I didn’t make the cut last year.”
He pushed his empty bowl back. “So this job at the hospital is in nursing?”
“No, I’d be a monitor technician in the ICU. It’s great experience.” She couldn’t wait to hear back from the hospital. They’d be making their decision in a few weeks. With her letters of recommendation, she had a very good chance at the job. And it would be one more plus on her application to nursing school.
“I’m impressed. I’m not much into blood and guts. Well, unless you count the guts of a tractor.”
She polished off the final bite of her chili. His eyes were brighter. He didn’t look as tired. “You can fix a tractor?”
“Yes, ma’am. I used to work in Cheyenne for a large equipment repair shop. Loved it.”
“What happened?”
He shrugged. “When Belle found out about the babies, well, she and I are twins and we’re all we’ve got. No mom, no dad. Just us. I wasn’t going to leave her here to do it on her own.”
“But she’s not on her own. She has Raleigh, right?”
He straightened, adjusting his shirt. “I don’t expect you to understand.”
Quietly, she picked up her plate and bowl and took them to the sink. She understood as much as she needed to. Either Raleigh wasn’t a great husband or Marshall didn’t think his sister could handle much.
Something was off about his relationship with Belle. She could sense it.
Maybe he did have a flaw, after all.
Chapter Three (#u8549a9a8-41e4-51c4-ae97-1acb82c6d969)
“We aren’t paying you to leave the babies unattended.”
Ainsley wiped her damp hands on the hand towel and counted to five. Belle had finally opted to emerge from her room, and, as Ainsley had found out repeatedly over the past week, she’d come prepared to criticize. The eight-to-six schedule had been a nice fantasy. So had getting a day off. Every morning Ainsley arrived at seven thirty and couldn’t in good conscience leave until after seven, when Marshall and Raleigh returned from their evening chores. Though Marshall helped with the babies for a few hours each morning and in the afternoon, the bulk of the care fell to her. She wouldn’t mind, but Belle rarely touched the infants, and being treated like the hired help was getting old.
“I had to use the bathroom.” She walked by Belle, who stood with one hip jutted out and a sour expression on her face. Ben started fussing. She mustered the last scraps of her patience. “The babies are about ready to eat. Why don’t you sit on the couch, and I’ll hand the boys to you?”
“Why the boys? Why not the girls?” Belle backed up a step, alarm running a fifty-meter dash in her eyes. Ainsley was too tired to feel sympathetic. Max let out a whimper, and Ben’s fussing turned into crying. She’d tried to engage Belle many times since arriving last week, but she’d yet to see Belle holding a baby. Ainsley kept trying, though.
“Fine. I’ll bring the girls to you. Let me warm their bottles. I’ll be right back.” She trudged to the kitchen and took out four bottles from the refrigerator. The sound of Grace joining the crying made her lean her elbows on the counter and drop her head. She’d learned the hard way that crying was contagious. The longer it went on, the harder it was to contain. It took everything inside her not to yell to Belle to pick up one of the babies and try to comfort them.
The woman had zero baby skills.
Or maybe she had no confidence.
Either way, Ainsley wanted to take her by the shoulders and shake her. Don’t you want to be their mother? What is wrong with you?
From the living room, she heard Lila’s little cry. Lord, this is bad if even sweet Lila is crying. Why am I here? I can’t make a difference if their mother refuses to hold them. What will happen after the holidays when I leave?
As she warmed the bottles, tension gripped her throat. The babies’ cries grew more insistent. She tested two of the bottles—lukewarm—and marched back to the living room, ready to force Belle to feed a set of twins if need be.
But one look at the woman and she halted. Belle stood over the bouncy seats with her hands down by her sides. A trail of tears rushed down her cheeks, and her fingers were trembling.
How had Ainsley missed it?
Belle wasn’t an ambivalent mother. And this wasn’t a lack of confidence—this was naked fear.
Could Belle have postpartum depression?
The truth pierced her to the core. Ainsley needed to approach her differently. She pulled her shoulders back and calmly approached Belle. Using her most soothing voice, she said, “Go ahead and sit on the couch. Lila wants her mommy.”
Belle hastily wiped her tears away. “I...I’m really tired.” She took a step toward the hall, but Ainsley blocked her way.
“I know you’re tired. Sit with Lila. She’s so cuddly. You can rest on the couch, and I’ll put the television on.”
Belle licked her cracked lips. “I don’t know—”
Ainsley put her arm around her, steered her to the couch and handed her a bottle. Then she unstrapped Lila, cooed some baby talk to her and placed her in Belle’s arms. Belle stiffened, but Ainsley pretended not to notice.
“See? She’s better already.” Ainsley said a silent prayer of thanks when Lila stopped crying. She held her breath, waiting to see if Belle would offer the bottle to the baby. She did. And visibly relaxed. “I’ll get the boys’ bottles and be right back.”
Thank You, Lord!
Ainsley rolled up receiving blankets and propped the boys’ bottles on them in their bouncy seats. They both calmed immediately. Then she picked up Grace and sat on the other couch to feed her. With the babies quiet again, Ainsley turned on the television.
“What do you like to watch?”
“I don’t care.” Belle actually smiled at Lila.
“Well, with Thanksgiving a few days away, let’s drool over the cooking shows.” She clicked to the food channel and relaxed into the couch. Grace was warm and happy, and for the first time in days, Ainsley had a sense of peace.
Postpartum depression she could deal with. The color-coding and schedule had helped tremendously, too, but things had to change around here. If they didn’t, Belle wouldn’t be able to care for the babies on her own. And Ainsley couldn’t work twelve-hour days seven days a week or she’d get burned out.
Marshall came to mind. She hadn’t asked him about it, but she suspected he stopped by regularly to help with the babies at night. They weren’t doing Belle, Raleigh or the children any favors by doing all the work. Grace finished her bottle, so Ainsley lifted her to burp her. Darling little thing. Funny how the exhaustion and frustration dissipated as soon as one of the babies was in her arms.
“What do you and Raleigh usually do for Thanksgiving?” Ainsley patted Grace’s back and glanced at Belle.
She got a faraway look in her eyes, making her appear softer. “Since neither of us has any family left, I like to make a big dinner.” Her face fell. “But I don’t know about this year. It’s all too much.”
“If we help with the babies, would you want to make the dinner?” Maybe doing something she enjoyed would get Belle in a better frame of mind.
“I...I don’t know. It’s a lot of work.” Worry lines creased her forehead.
“Yes, it is.” Ainsley didn’t want her overwhelmed. “Maybe one of the guys could help you with cooking. I’m not very good in the kitchen.”
Belle turned to face her. She seemed to perk up. “No? Well, Raleigh is hopeless unless he’s grilling. I’ll ask Marshall.”
The fact Belle automatically fell back on Marshall concerned her. It was as if he was at her beck and call.
And he never turned his sister down.
Uneasiness slithered down her spine.
Ainsley could write the book on codependent relationships. She’d been in one with her father for twenty-one years. Three years ago, she’d broken free, and she’d promised herself she’d never be in one again.
Whatever was going on with Marshall and his sister didn’t seem healthy. If he didn’t set some boundaries, Ainsley didn’t know if she could stick out this baby nurse stint to completion. She’d discuss it with him at dinner. She just hoped he’d listen—for his sake, for Belle’s and, most of all, for the babies’.
* * *
Life was finally starting to feel manageable. Marshall finished brushing his horse and led him to the stall. After feeding and watering the animal, he strode back to his cabin. High winds had left the ground dry. It was almost 7:00 p.m., and his porch light beckoned under the dark sky. Inside his cabin, he took off his winter outerwear before scrubbing his hands and checking his appearance in the bathroom mirror.
Bags hung low beneath bloodshot eyes. His scruff had grown to an unruly level. He looked terrible.
What did he expect? He hadn’t gotten more than four hours of sleep at a time since the babies had come home from the hospital. He didn’t want to tell Ainsley, but Belle called him every night at around 1:00 a.m. in a panic. And worry twisted his insides until he figured it was best to run over and get the babies settled. It didn’t take long. They’d need a change and a bottle and they’d drift back to sleep in no time.
But then he’d get a text at 5:00 a.m., as well. And since Raleigh was out feeding cattle before that, Marshall knew she was all alone. So, he’d stop in at the main house. Running back and forth between the ranch and the babies left him exhausted.
After making himself presentable, he went to the kitchen and turned on the oven. He’d thawed out barbecue pulled pork earlier. He tossed it into a baking dish and slid it along with some frozen French fries into the oven. Then he threw on his coat and went out the door. If he didn’t collect Ainsley from the main house, she’d be there all night.
Guilt slowed his pace on the path. Ainsley was working twelve-hour days. He wanted to believe Belle was doing her fair share of the baby care, but deep down, he knew she wasn’t. And since he’d been Raleigh’s right-hand man for the calf sale, he’d been unable to help as much. Thankfully, as of yesterday, all the calves had shipped, and the ranch was back to normal operations.
As he’d ridden around the pastures all afternoon, he’d had one thing on his mind—and it wasn’t calves.
Dinner with Ainsley. His favorite part of the day.
After a quick knock on the back door, he let himself in. None of the babies was crying, which was a relief. He stopped when the living room came in view. Belle sat on one of the couches, and she cradled Lila in her arms. Ainsley was on her knees in front of the bouncy seats, holding a stuffed puppy up to Ben. She rose, turned and spotted Marshall. She brought her finger to her lips, nudging her head at Belle.
He placed his hand over his heart. His sister actually looked like she was enjoying holding the baby. His relief was so sweet it almost brought tears.
Things were finally turning around.
The sound of Raleigh stomping his boots in the breezeway made Marshall’s gut clench. Please, don’t say something stupid, Raleigh.
He entered the room, the tang of winter air on his clothes, and he stopped short. Marshall wanted to say something, to warn him not to ruin it, but to his surprise, Raleigh padded over to Belle and put his hand on her shoulder. “She sure likes her mama, doesn’t she?”
Belle covered his hand with hers, then quickly slipped it back under Lila.
Ainsley crossed the room to Marshall.
“Let’s give them some privacy,” she whispered.
They strode together to his cabin, neither speaking. He had so much he wanted to say, to ask, but a part of him wondered if it was better not to know. Whatever he’d just witnessed was a blessing, and he’d accept it.
He opened the door for her, and the aroma of barbecue made his stomach growl.
“I can’t tell you how incredible this smells.” Ainsley hung up her coat and crossed to his shelves, taking down two plates as she’d done every night since arriving.
He enjoyed their routine. While she set the table, he found hot pads and took the food out of the oven.
“Thank you so much for feeding me,” she said. “I feel bad you’re doing all the cooking, but I can barely make instant oatmeal. Frozen foods are my best friends.”
“It’s the least I can do.” He set the pulled pork on the table and went back for the fries. “I know this hasn’t been easy on you. Whatever you did back there to get Belle holding the baby, well...I can’t thank you enough.”
He waited until Ainsley finished saying the prayer before serving up the food.
She picked up a fry. “I think your sister has postpartum depression.”
His fork clattered to the table. Postpartum depression?
“She needs to see a doctor.” Ainsley took a bite.
“But she was better today. She was holding Lila. She looked happy.” The words came out too fast. He didn’t know what to think.
“I know. Today was a good start. But I’m not going to be here long. And she needs to be able to handle all four babies.”
“One will lead to another. And I’ll stop by as much as I can.”
Ainsley wiped her mouth with her napkin and looked him in the eye.
“That’s another thing we need to talk about. I know you think you’re helping by going over there at night—”
“I think I’m helping? As far as I can tell, I am helping.” He pushed his chair back, rubbing his hand over his stubble.
“You’re right, you are helping. But neither of us can sustain this. And we shouldn’t. From my perspective, you and I act more like parents to these babies than either Belle or Raleigh. We cover the brunt of their care.”
He tilted his chin up. “That’s why I hired you.” As soon as he said it, he regretted it.
Her eyes softened. “You didn’t hire me to be their mother.”
“I know.” He slumped, his appetite gone. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
She covered his hand with hers, and he was surprised at how comforting her touch felt. “Marshall, you need sleep. And we both need a day off. Your sister and brother-in-law are taking advantage of you. And I didn’t agree to work seven days a week, twelve hours a day. I’m getting burned out, and I think you are, too.”
He couldn’t argue. He knew it was true. But what was the alternative?
“I want to stay, but...” She averted her eyes.
Wait? She wanted to stay? Was she considering leaving? His heartbeat galloped as the few bites of dinner he’d eaten threatened to come up.
She continued. “If I’m going to stay, we both have to work together for the quadruplets’ best interests.”
If she was going to stay? He shook his head to clear the panic. He didn’t succeed. “What are you suggesting?”
“We stick to set hours. From now on, I’m arriving at eight and leaving at six whether your sister likes it or not. And you have to stop going over there in the night. If she can’t handle it, Raleigh needs to step up. He’s their father.”
He swallowed. He knew she spoke the truth. Raleigh should be on night duty with Belle. Still, Marshall didn’t know if he could go through with what Ainsley was asking.
“We both are taking Sundays off.” She took a dainty bite of pork.
Sundays off? She was backing him into a corner.
“I don’t see how I can.” He massaged the back of his neck. “She hasn’t been alone with the babies for an entire day.”
“Raleigh will be with her. He was in and out all day last Sunday. He can leave the ranch chores to the other hands for one day of the week.”
“Neither Belle nor Raleigh knows what to do, though. What will happen to the little ones?”
She flattened her palms on either side of her plate and leaned forward. “You didn’t know what to do, and you figured it out. They will, too. We’ll train them. Show them the color-coding. Give them the schedule. They have to start taking care of these babies, Marshall.”
A splitting headache was coming on. But she was right. He kept hoping Belle would suddenly become a capable mother, and he’d ignored the fact Raleigh should be on diaper duty, too. What did that say about him?
“And one more thing.” She lowered her lashes before meeting his gaze straight on. “Belle needs to see a doctor. Postpartum depression is nothing to mess around with. I don’t think she’ll listen to me, but you? She’ll hear you out.”
Ugh. He’d officially lost his appetite.
“You’re telling me I need to convince my sister to see a doctor for postpartum depression? No way.”
“Then I’m sorry, but I have to turn in my notice. I’m not going to spend the next five weeks of my life being the sole caregiver to four babies while their mother hides in her room and their father is too busy with work to feed or change them. Belle needs medical help.”
She couldn’t quit! He stood and stalked to the kitchen counter. What was he supposed to do? How could he convince her to stay without agreeing to her demands?
What she was asking was too hard.
He’d been faced with impossible decisions before. One had left Belle vulnerable, alone. And it had been the last time he’d seen his mother.
He took a deep breath. This was different. Ainsley wasn’t willfully blind like his mother—if anything, she saw too much.
He didn’t like it, but what choice did he have? He couldn’t let Ainsley leave. It would benefit no one.
“Fine. Sundays off. I’ll talk to Belle.”
“And you won’t go over to help with the babies at night anymore?”
He gritted his teeth. “I won’t go over at night.”
She flashed a smile. “Then, I’ll stay.”
He should be relieved, but was he letting his sister down? She wasn’t going to be happy when he refused to come over tonight. And broaching the subject of postpartum depression? He’d rather get the flu...or flesh-eating bacteria.
When was the last time he’d told his sister no?
Staring out the window, he realized he rarely refused her requests.
He was so tired. Why couldn’t Belle snap out of it? And why wasn’t Raleigh caring for the babies at night already? He stole a peek at Ainsley, who wore a serene expression as she ate.
Regret punched him in the gut. Had he been taking advantage of Ainsley?
And in his rush to help Belle, had he been hurting his sister?
He closed his eyes. It was time to change things, the way Ainsley said. He just prayed Belle would forgive him.
Chapter Four (#u8549a9a8-41e4-51c4-ae97-1acb82c6d969)
If he could take a snapshot of one moment to represent everything about his sister he’d missed since she’d given birth, this would be it. Harmony. Quality time with her. Marshall poked Belle as she dumped brown sugar into the bowl of yams. She gave him the death glare, but a smile teased her lips. In the background, television announcers introduced another float in the parade, and Ainsley’s and Raleigh’s voices could just be made out from the living room.
“What next?” With a knife, Marshall scraped the chopped potatoes into a large pan.
“You can cut up the herbs for the dressing while I finish these yams.” Belle sprinkled some ginger and cinnamon into the bowl. “Thanks for helping, Marsh.”
“I can’t think of anything I’d rather be doing, Belle.” He peered around the corner to check on Ainsley. Well, that was stretching the truth. He liked feeding the babies with Ainsley. She’d set one of the girls on a blanket on the floor. Raleigh stood over them, his face perplexed as he rubbed his chin. She took a fresh diaper and laid it next to the baby. Then she pointed for him to hand her a wipe. After cleaning up the child, she put the new diaper on, snapped the coverall shut and cradled her to her chest. He heard her say, “Now you try it.”
“Are you going to stand there all day?” Belle had her sassy tone on. “Come on. Chop. Chop.”

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