Chapter One

      “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.”