Wyoming Christmas Quadruplets. Jill Kemerer
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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.
“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