A Baby in His Stocking. Laura Marie AltomЧитать онлайн книгу.
sterile.”
Heart aching for him, eyes stinging with tears she struggled to hold in, she asked, “H-how do you know?”
“Nasty case of mumps. Doc Haven tested me. That’s why I’m so desperate to get out of Weed Gulch. No one knows, and the last thing I want to do is tell them. I don’t want their pity or well-meaning lectures on the wonders of adoption. I need to be left alone, you know? Just come to grips with this in my own way.”
Hand on his forearm, she asked, “How long have you known?”
“A few months, and damned if the more kids my brothers and sister pop out, the more disconnected I feel. I will forever be the lone man out and it—”
When his voice cracked, Natalie scooted across the seat to put her arms around him.
He stopped the truck, killing the engine.
Though Wyatt never shed a tear, Natalie could only imagine how much his diagnosis had hurt. For a guy like him, his macho manliness no doubt meant the world. To never be able to have his own namesake must be crushing.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, holding him for all she was worth. “Ironic how your family wants nothing more than for you to produce a child, and mine is going to be peeved for that very fact.”
“Which is why I need to get the hell out of Dodge. For the most part, family is great, but this is one time when I just want to escape.”
Not sure what the politically correct thing to say was at a time like this, Natalie said the first thing that popped into her mind. “I don’t blame you. The Buckhorns are a pretty intense bunch. I can just imagine Georgina catching wind of this. Demanding you have every test in the book done, ignoring the fact that you’re a big boy and no doubt already double- and triple-checked this for yourself.”
“True.”
She gave him another hug. “You go off on this adventure of yours, and once you get back, maybe you’ll feel better about your lot, maybe you won’t, but at least you’ll be out there, living life to its fullest.”
Easing back, he said, “You’re amazing. How is it I never dated you?”
“Simple,” she teased, “I’m too smart to ever fall victim to your charm.”
ONEWEEKLATER, FIVE rows from Weed Gulch Elementary’s stage, Wyatt sat crammed between his sister-in-law Wren and his nephew Kolt. Wren’s nearly three-year-old daughter, Robin, sat on her lap, smelling like she might be having an issue with whatever she’d eaten for dinner. Trapped in a room bursting with families, Wyatt had never been more keenly aware of his own deficiency.
The one person who’d made him feel better about himself and his decision to leave town was Natalie.
Daisy’s dark-haired eleven-year-old son, Kolt, wrinkled his nose. “Aunt Wren, Robin really stinks.”
Just then Natalie stepped out from behind the blue velvet stage curtains. Natalie was the night’s MC. She looked good in a rusty-orange sweater over brown pants. He liked her hair, too. Loose and wavy. Pretty—like her smile.
Cash’s wife, Wren, laughed. “I know, hon. I told your uncle to not feed her bean soup, but he didn’t listen. She’s almost totally potty trained, but not good enough for that much fiber.”
“Shhh.” Weary of baby talk, eagerly awaiting whatever Natalie was about to say, Wyatt crossed his arms and prayed for the family portion of the night to end.
“What a wonderful turnout!” Natalie said with a bright smile. Had she always looked so good? “On behalf of our students and staff, thank you for taking time to attend our fall concert. The kids have worked hard, and can’t wait to show off their skills.”
Once the program started, Wyatt had to admit all of the songs and hand motions were cute, but instead of focusing on his nieces’ talent, he felt trapped under his own dark cloud. How different would the night be were he watching his own children perform?
The show droned on for two hours, during which every baby and toddler present screamed in turns. By the time the twins took their last bows, Wyatt was more than ready to bolt. But no. First, he had to have cake and punch in the deafening cafeteria. Why, why hadn’t he driven himself?
“Not that you probably deserve it,” teased a warm, familiar voice from beside him, “but come on. You look like a man in dire need of silence.” Natalie led Wyatt by his arm out of the chaos and into the bliss of her deserted office. She gestured for him to take a seat on the sofa. She parked behind her desk.
Hands to his throbbing forehead, Wyatt asked, “How do you stand being around here all day, every day?”
“It’s usually not this crazy. When school’s in session, rules and procedures keep the noise to a minimum.”
“Still…” He managed a grimace. “I’m starting to loathe kids. Which in my case is a good thing, right?”
“Oh, stop.” Tidying a pile of papers, she added, “The night hasn’t been that bad. And anyway, it’s over now.” Natalie looked awfully grown-up seated behind her big desk. How many crying kiddos had been in here for her to soothe?
He sat a little straighter.
She reached for an apple-shaped candy dish mounded with Hershey’s Kisses. “Want one?”
Shaking his head, he said, “I’m maxed out on sugar.”
Apparently she wasn’t, as she proceeded to unwrap three of the treats before popping them in her mouth. Her expression was one of pure pleasure. Damned if she didn’t look in the throes of an orgasm. The notion produced pressure beneath his fly, along with the asinine urge to lick a speck of chocolate from the corner of her lips.
Wyatt cleared his throat. “I, ah, wasn’t going to come tonight.”
“Why?” Was she aware that when she leaned forward, resting her elbows on her desk, her shadowy cleavage popped into view? “This was a big deal for the twins. I know they wanted their favorite uncle here.”
Wyatt snorted. “Cash is everyone’s favorite.”
“Don’t sell yourself short. The girls talk about you all the time. Bonnie refers to you as her favorite oil king.”
“Nice,” he said with a chuckle. After taking one of her candies, he added, “My Ethiopian residence card came today.”
“Are you excited?”
“Yes and no. As much as I’ll be relieved to get out of here, it’s strange to think the next time I see Esther, she’ll be walking.”
“How does that make you feel? Any regrets?”
He took more candy. Had Natalie always smelled so good? Like a mix of flowers and chocolate and the faintest hint of a just-sharpened pencil?
“Wyatt?” she asked, waving her hand in front of his face. “Earth to Wyatt.”
“Huh?”
“I asked if any part of you regrets leaving.”
Funny, but at the moment, the one thing Wyatt knew he’d miss about Weed Gulch was Natalie. His whole life she’d been right under his nose. How could he have not taken the time to know her before now? “Other than hot and cold running water, electricity and reliable meals, I think I’m good.”
She laughed, which made him smile, too.
Which was nice. If only for a little while.
“IS WYATTHERE?” ON Saturday morning, Natalie had found a travel book on Ethiopia at a yard sale. Hoping she’d run into Wyatt at Georgina’s latest gathering on Sunday afternoon, she’d brought it along.
“No,” his mother said, “he hasn’t even left the county lines, but for all the time he spends with me, he might as