Читать книгу The More Mavericks, The Merrier! - Brenda Harlen, Brenda Harlen - Страница 10
ОглавлениеWhile Jamie was making his way to the door, his sister started clearing the breakfast dishes off the table.
“If you have to get to work, I can take care of that,” Fallon offered.
“I’m not really in a hurry,” Bella admitted.
“You don’t have to meet Hudson to look at applications?”
“Not until this afternoon.”
Fallon shook her head. “Really? You were so afraid to sample my baking that you made up that story?”
“I didn’t make it up,” her friend denied. “I just fudged the timeline a little.”
“I’ve prepared lunch and occasionally dinner here numerous times over the past ten months and you never balked at eating anything I’ve cooked,” she pointed out.
“You know how to put a meal together,” Bella confirmed. “Dessert? Not so much.”
“Ouch.”
“You have a lot of talents,” her friend soothed. “Baking just isn’t one of them.”
“But the muffins were good, weren’t they?”
“They were very good, but one batch of muffins isn’t going to make anyone forget the potluck experience.”
Fallon scowled as she washed the babies’ hands and faces, then she and Bella carried the triplets into the living room.
Because Henry, Jared and Katie were preemies—born almost two months ahead of schedule—they were a little bit delayed in their development and had only recently started to crawl and climb. Their sudden mobility had Jamie in a panic about childproofing the house, so there were now caps in all of the outlets, child locks and latches on all of the doors and drawers and baby gates to block off the rooms that were completely off-limits to the little ones.
He also had a play yard—which Fallon thought was intended to go in the yard, but he’d assured her was also suitable for indoor use and gave the babies a little more room to roam around than a traditional playpen. But for now, with Bella there to provide an extra set of eyes, they were letting the babies crawl around the floor.
While her brothers were playing with wooden toy cars, Katie was preoccupied with the sparkly ring on Bella’s finger. “Pretty, isn’t it?” Fallon said.
Katie, of course, didn’t respond but continued to be mesmerized by the massive diamond.
“You’re a smart girl,” her Auntie Bella said. “You already know that diamonds are a girl’s best friend.”
“And her brothers are already obsessed with cars,” Fallon noted.
“Whatever keeps them busy...and happy,” Bella said, smiling as she watched them play. “For a long time, I didn’t think they’d ever learn how to occupy themselves.”
“It’s amazing how much they’ve grown and changed over the past ten months,” Fallon agreed. “And speaking of changes...have you and Hudson set a date for the wedding?”
“We have,” her friend happily confirmed. “Saturday, June 10. We’re having the ceremony at the church followed by a reception at Maverick Manor.”
“Have you found a dress?”
“I’ve been looking at bridal magazines and browsing online, but that’s it so far. I’m hoping to get to Mimi’s Bridal in Kalispell on Saturday, but I have to make sure my maid of honor can go with me.”
“Who are you having stand up with you?” Fallon asked.
“Hopefully my best friend,” Bella said.
“Me?”
The bride-to-be smiled. “Of course you, if you’re willing.”
“I would be honored,” Fallon told her sincerely.
“And are you up for wedding dress shopping on Saturday?”
“Absolutely. Have you decided who will be your bridesmaids?”
Bella shook her head. “I’m not having any other attendants.”
“Why not?” Fallon wondered.
“Because I always imagined that I’d have Dana and Liza in my wedding party,” the bride-to-be admitted softly, referring to the two sisters she hadn’t seen in years. “And if they can’t be there... I don’t want anyone else.”
Fallon reached over to squeeze her friend’s hand in a silent gesture of comfort and support.
“So the wedding party is going to be very small,” Bella continued. “Bride and groom, maid of honor and best man, flower girl and two ring bearers.”
“Katie, Henry and Jared?” she guessed.
Her friend nodded. “Jamie thinks I’m crazy, but I want my niece and nephews in my wedding party.”
“That’s not crazy,” Fallon assured her. “Crazy would be letting Homer Gilmore anywhere near the wedding punch.”
Bella chuckled at her mention of the old man who had confessed to spiking the wedding punch with his homemade moonshine when Jennifer MacCallum and Braden Traub got married last Fourth of July. As a result, the celebration had resulted in several new romances and started the local baby boom. “Apparently he learned his lesson. Although I have to admit, I’ve found myself wondering if ‘what happened at the wedding’ wasn’t much ado about nothing.”
“I’m sure Will Clifton and Jordyn Cates, Lani Dalton and Russ Campbell, Trey Strickland and Kayla Dalton would argue otherwise.”
“Hmm.”
“I know that tone,” Fallon said, sounding a little worried. “What are you thinking?”
“I was just thinking, if Homer Gilmore’s moonshine really does have special powers, I should try to get my hands on some.”
“Why do you want Homer’s moonshine when all of your dreams are about to come true?”
“It wouldn’t be for me, but for Jamie.”
“I think your brother’s hands are full enough with Henry, Jared and Katie,” she said.
“I don’t mean for him to have more babies,” Bella said. “Although there was a definite rise in pregnancies for wedding guests who drank the spiked punch, there was also a noticeable increase in the number of couples falling in love,” she pointed out. “That’s what I want for Jamie—for him to fall in love, and for real this time.”
Fallon didn’t say anything. She wasn’t going to ask, but her curiosity must have shown on her face because Bella’s lips curved into a slow smile.
“Apparently Jamie doesn’t tell you everything,” his sister mused.
“Maybe that’s because he wants to keep his private life private,” she suggested. Because she knew that Jamie and Paula’s marriage hadn’t been without its share of problems, but she also knew that Jamie had loved his wife.
Bella waved a hand dismissively. “If I’ve learned nothing else this past year, I’ve learned that keeping secrets doesn’t help anyone. My brother needs a wife, his babies need a mother and most of the women in town are keeping a respectable distance because they think he’s still mourning Paula.
“I’m not saying he didn’t care for her,” his sister hastened to explain. “He wouldn’t have married her if he didn’t believe he was in love with her. But even I could see that they were ill-suited. Paula might have wanted Jamie, but she never really wanted to live in Rust Creek Falls and...” she paused now, as if reluctant to say aloud what she was thinking “...I don’t believe she ever wanted those beautiful babies.
“Of course, by the time my brother realized the truth about who she was and what she wanted, they were already married. And Jamie being Jamie, he was determined to make it work.”
“She would have loved Henry, Jared and Katie,” Fallon said. “If she’d been given a chance to be a mother to them, she would have loved them.” Unfortunately, complications resulting from her pregnancy had taken that chance along with her life.
“You always did have a huge and forgiving heart,” Bella told her. “And that’s what I want for my brother—for him to find someone like you who will help him open his heart again.”
She felt her own heart beat faster as she wondered if her friend had somehow guessed the truth of her feelings for Jamie.
But Bella continued, oblivious to Fallon’s inner thoughts and deepest emotions. “Someone down to earth, preferably a Rust Creek Falls resident who understands life on a ranch and might be willing to become an instant mother to these precious babies.” She grabbed a tissue from the box on the table to wipe the drool off Henry’s chin. “Can you think of anyone who might fit the criteria?”
Me! Me! Fallon wanted to respond, while jumping up and down with her hand in the air like an eager second grader.
“I’m sure there are more than a few suitable candidates,” she said instead, and hoped her friend didn’t guess that her lack of enthusiasm was based on a reluctance to watch Jamie hook up with anyone else.
It had been difficult enough for her to see him with Paula, but she’d tried to be happy for him because she knew he was in love with his wife. She’d been sincerely pleased when he told her about his wife’s pregnancy, because she knew how much he wanted to be a father, to have a family of his own. Her heart had ached, but she’d put a smile on her face because she loved him so much she valued his happiness above even her own.
But now, she wasn’t sure she could go through that again. She didn’t want to sit back and be a spectator while the man she loved fell in love with another woman.
“Has he indicated any interest in meeting someone new?” she asked cautiously.
“No,” Bella admitted. “But why wouldn’t he be content with the status quo when he’s got someone here taking care of his babies every day and often putting a meal on the table? The only thing he’s not getting is sex.”
Fallon felt her cheeks flush. “How do you know he’s not having sex?”
“Because he’s too exhausted to ever leave the ranch and find a willing woman,” his sister said matter-of-factly.
Which didn’t preclude him finding a willing woman on the ranch, and that wasn’t completely outside the realm of possibility considering that several of the baby chain volunteers were single women. On the other hand, it wasn’t very likely with Jamie’s sister living under the same roof.
“So what do you think?” Bella prompted. “Can you help me come up with some prospects for him?”
“Sure,” Fallon agreed, because apparently she was enough of a masochist to play matchmaker for the man she’d been crushing on for more than a decade. Or maybe she was finally ready to face the truth and acknowledge that, if Jamie was ever going to show any interest in her, he would have done so years earlier. But aside from one single, solitary kiss the summer between his first and second years of college, their relationship had never been anything but platonic.
Henry crawled into Fallon’s lap, stuffed his thumb in his mouth and dropped his head against her breast. “I think someone’s trying to tell me that he’s tired.”
“Already?” Bella glanced at her watch. “I guess we’ve been gabbing longer than I realized.”
Fallon nodded toward Jared, who had fallen asleep with his cheek on the carpet and a car in his hand. Only Katie was still upright, although Fallon could tell by the little girl’s flagging movements that she wouldn’t object to being put down for a nap.
Bella helped her get the babies changed and settled into their individual cribs before she headed off to work with a reminder to Fallon about their upcoming trip to the bridal salon.
She was genuinely happy for her best friend, and maybe feeling just a little sorry for herself, because she had no imminent plans for a wedding or a family of her own. But she would put a smile on her face, stand up beside the bride, continue to lavish Henry, Jared and Katie with attention and affection and, most important, pretend that she wasn’t seriously infatuated with their father.
* * *
Jamie had more than enough work to keep him busy throughout the morning and most of the afternoon. After he checked on the mare and fed the heifers, he worked on fixing the fence on the north border that was in desperate need of repair. Though he couldn’t say for certain, the look of the damage—combined with some talk he’d heard in town about Craig Garrison needing parts to fix his ATV—suggested to Jamie that his neighbor’s idiot son had run into the fence while he was out joyriding, probably in the middle of the snowstorm a couple of weeks earlier.
He immediately felt guilty for the thought. Craig wasn’t really an idiot; he was just a teenager. The spoiled youngest son of a successful rancher who didn’t care that Jamie was struggling to keep on top of countless daily tasks without additional fence repairs added to the mix.
He’d bought the Circle K ranch from the bank when Dierk and Gretchen Krueger opted to walk away after the floods decimated their land three years earlier. They’d worked the ranch for almost forty years with the intention of passing it on to their own children someday. But none of their children was interested in the property—especially not after the floods—so they’d opted to sell and move to a more temperate climate for their golden years.
Jamie had been fresh out of school and eager to put down his own roots in Rust Creek Falls independent of the grandparents who had let him and Bella live with them in town but never showed them an ounce of affection. He was also familiar with the Circle K because he’d worked as a ranch hand for Dierk in the summers during high school. The old man had taught him a lot about ranch management, and though Jamie had felt uncomfortable taking advantage of his misfortune, Dierk assured him that he’d be happy knowing the ranch was in the hands of someone who cared about the land and wouldn’t turn it into some kind of tourist attraction for the Hollywood types who had been flocking to Montana in recent years to pretend to be cowboys.
So Jamie had scraped together enough money for the down payment, financed the rest of the purchase and taken what was left of the Kruegers’ herd on a consignment basis. He renamed the property The Short Hills Ranch in recognition of its topography, then he’d refurbished the house and moved in with his new bride.
He’d been happy then—and so full of hope for the future. Now he was just trying to get by, one day at a time.
That was the problem with physical work—it left his mind free to wander without direction. Usually he appreciated the mundane tasks that he could perform without thinking, but today, Fallon’s desire to cut down a tree suddenly had him thinking of Christmases past.
He had fond memories of holidays with his family during the first fifteen years of his life, before his parents had been killed in a car wreck. Hiking out into the woods to find the perfect tree, arguing over who got to cut it down—and then who had to lug it back to the house.
While his father set up the tree, his mother would make hot chocolate, rich and creamy, and float little marshmallows on top. When the chocolate had been drunk, they’d work together to decorate the towering evergreen. Lights. Garland. Ornaments. And then, finally, the serious countdown toward Christmas would begin.
With seven kids in the family, there was always a pile of presents under the tree. Never anything too expensive or impractical, of course, but there was always something that was needed—like an extra pair of long johns or a new razor—and something that was wanted—a coveted toy or favorite treat. And his mother always knitted a new sweater for each of her seven children.
The first Christmas after his parents were gone had been starkly different for Jamie and all of his siblings. Agnes and Matthew Baldwin—their maternal grandparents—were their only living relatives, and they had not been pleased by the prospect of taking in seven grandchildren.
Luke, Daniel and Bailey made it easy on them—opting to leave Rust Creek Falls to make their own way in the world. Because the three eldest siblings were all of legal age, their grandparents couldn’t stop them. But Jamie knew that they didn’t even try, that they were relieved by this immediate lessening of their responsibilities.
And still, four kids were a lot for the older couple to take in, especially when they lived in a modestly sized house in the center of town. Without any consultation—or even any warning, Agnes and Matthew had signed the two youngest siblings over to the local child welfare authorities to be adopted. Jamie remembered saying goodbye to Dana and Liza before he left for school early one morning, and when he returned home that afternoon, they were gone.
Only Jamie and Bella—too young to be independent like their brothers and too old to be considered adoptable like their sisters—were left. Was it any wonder that he and Bella had adopted a “you and me against the world” mentality? Or that they’d never felt close to the grandparents who had reluctantly taken them in?
Their first holiday with the grandparents had been an eye-opener. Agnes and Matthew hadn’t bothered with a real tree for years and didn’t see any reason to change their tradition of putting out a ceramic tree on the coffee table. There were a few other decorations scattered around the house and a holly wreath on the exterior door.
He’d thought that was quite possibly the worst Christmas ever. He’d been wrong.
He scrubbed a gloved hand over his face as the cold wind swirled around him, making his eyes water, and forced his attention back to the fence.
A sound came from somewhere in the distance—something that sounded like a dog barking.
He didn’t have a dog. He’d always planned to get one, but when he’d suggested to Paula that they make a trip to the nearest shelter to pick one out, she’d balked. If they were going to bring an animal into the house, she didn’t want it to be what she called a flea-infested mongrel. And maybe that should have been one of his first clues that their differences were greater than their similarities, but he’d ignored the concerns, so certain that they could make their marriage work.
He heard the bark again—far in the distance. Near the end of the summer, he’d noticed a dog skirting the edges of the property. A once-beautiful golden retriever now with matted fur and distrustful eyes. He didn’t know if she’d been abused or abandoned, but she hadn’t let him coax her to come near. After a few weeks, he noticed that she hadn’t ventured too far away, either.
So he’d put a couple of stainless-steel bowls outside of the barn, ensuring one was always filled with fresh water and the other with kibble he’d picked up when he was at the feed store. And he’d hammered together some spare boards into a makeshift shelter that he’d set out on the north side of the property, where she seemed to linger.
Though he’d never seen her inside, he felt better knowing that it was there, that she had an escape from the elements if she chose to use it. And though he’d never seen her at the barn, the water and food needed to be replenished on a regular basis.
He’d immediately thought of her as a she, though he didn’t know for sure. But any uncertainty as to her gender had been put to rest early in October when he’d seen her hovering at the edge of the woods. She was pregnant.
So before the first snowfall, he’d tossed a couple of old blankets into the shelter he’d built, hoping she would take refuge there when her birthing time was near. He wished he could do more. He wished he had the time to track her down and bring her in out of the cold to ensure that she and her puppies were safe, but he had all he could handle taking care of his own kids—and then some.
And now Fallon had launched a Christmas campaign to get him in the spirit of the holidays. He appreciated that her heart was in the right place—he just wished he could make her understand that his was still battered and bruised. He did want HJK’s first Christmas to be a memorable one, and he was confident that Fallon would make it so. He was less certain that anything could change his own “bah, humbug” attitude this year, though he was almost tempted to let her try.
* * *
Fallon had just finished programming the slow cooker when she heard one of the babies stirring. Wiping her hands on a towel, she quickly climbed the steps to the upper level, eager to get to whoever was awake before he or she woke the others.
She’d been part of the baby chain since the beginning and she’d fallen in love with Henry, Jared and Katie almost instantly. She loved taking care of them and, on the rare days that she didn’t see them—and their dad—she missed them all unbearably. On days like today, while she was tending to the children, tidying the house and preparing meals while Jamie worked on the ranch, it was all too easy to pretend that this was her life—that Jamie was her husband and his children were her children, too. But that was only a fantasy. The reality was that when he came in from his chores at the end of the day, she would say goodbye and go back to her regularly-scheduled, lonely life. But today, the fantasy would be extended just a little bit longer, because when Jamie came back, they were going to cut down a Christmas tree together.
After caring for HJK for so long, she’d learned to distinguish the identity of the crier and the nature of their cries. This time it was Henry, she guessed. Either he was hungry, had a wet diaper or a tummy ache. She’d been pleased when he’d crawled into her lap earlier—and a little surprised, because he wasn’t usually a cuddler, except when he was tired or sick. She’d assumed he was just tired, but now she wondered.
“How are you doing, big guy?”
He held his arms out to her, a silent plea to be picked up. And though his big blue eyes were swimming with tears, he smiled at her. A quick glance into the other two cribs confirmed that his brother and sister were both sleeping peacefully.
“You didn’t nap for very long,” she said, speaking softly as she lifted him into her arms. She patted his bottom, checking his diaper. Though it didn’t feel wet, she changed him anyway, then lifted him into her arms again. “You shouldn’t be hungry,” she said. “Auntie Bella said you had some fruit and eggs this morning, plus a piece of blueberry muffin and a bottle.”
“Ba,” he said, which was his word for ‘bottle.’
“Are you thirsty?” She continued to chat quietly with him as she carried him out of the room and down the stairs. “Or hungry?”
She set him in his high chair and found some grapes in the refrigerator, already washed and cut up so they wouldn’t be a choking hazard. She put a few pieces on his tray. He squished them between his fingers then smeared the broken fruit over his tray.
“Okay, not hungry,” she decided, as she prepared a bottle for him.
Bella had created charts so that, at the end of the day, Jamie could clearly see each baby’s input—the amount of food and drink—and output—the number of wet and dirty diapers. There was also a column for other notes. In the past few weeks, there had been a lot of other notes—explanations for red marks and warnings of possible bruises that attested to their increased mobility.
As Henry continued to muck around with the grapes, Fallon added a tally to the diaper column. Then she wiped off his hands and lifted him out of his high chair again and carried him to the living room.
Although all of the babies could hold their own bottles now, she’d read somewhere that human contact was important for a baby’s development—and especially for preemies—and she liked to cuddle with each of them as much as possible. Since Jared and Katie were still sleeping, she took advantage of this one-on-one time with Henry, settling into the rocking chair and offering him the bottle.
He grabbed it with both hands and guided the nipple unerringly into his mouth and immediately began sucking.
“I guess you were thirsty,” she noted.
As he continued to drink, she touched her lips to his forehead. Hmm...maybe he was a little warm. And in the late morning sunlight streaming through the window, his cheeks did appear a little blotchy and red.
“Maybe you’re cutting some more teeth,” she suggested. His bottom central incisors had broken through the gums only a few days earlier—two days later than Katie had cut hers, while his brother, Jared, was still waiting for his.
Henry continued to suck on the empty bottle until she gently eased it from his grasp and set it aside.
“Do you feel better now?” she asked him.
He responded by projectile-vomiting all over her.
