The More Mavericks, The Merrier!. Brenda HarlenЧитать онлайн книгу.
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.
Fallon was having second thoughts about the tree-cutting plan before Jamie came back to the house that afternoon. She’d barely finished cleaning up Henry and herself—having to borrow a shirt from her friend’s closet in order to put her own in the wash—when Jared and Katie woke up and began demanding their lunch. Of course, Henry’s belly was empty, too, and though she was wary of what might happen with anything he ate, she couldn’t let him go hungry.
Thankfully, whatever had upset Henry’s tummy earlier seemed to be out of his system, and he dug into his pasta with enthusiasm. After they’d finished eating and she’d finished cleaning up the kitchen, she bundled them into their snowsuits and took them outside to play in the snow. It was fun to watch them crawl around in it, and as an added bonus, it tired them out quickly.
While they were outside, she scanned the property, looking for any sign of their father, but she didn’t see Jamie anywhere. She knew he’d planned to fix the fence on the north border of the property, but unless the damage was worse than he’d suggested, he should have been finished by now.
When the babies finally collapsed in the snow, exhausted, she carted them back inside, wrestled them out of their snowsuits, changed their diapers, gave them their bottles and settled them back in their cribs. She touched the back of her hand to Henry’s forehead, but whatever had ailed the little guy earlier seemed to have truly passed.
When they were finally all settled, she said a silent prayer of thanks that she was able to get them all to sleep at the same time. By that point, she was just as exhausted as they were.
But she threw another load of laundry into the washing machine, added a couple of items to Jamie’s grocery list, and tidied up the toys in the living room because she knew if she sat down, she might not get up again.
She was accustomed to taking care of children all day long. When she wasn’t helping with Jamie’s babies, she worked part-time at Country Kids Day Care. But she worked with the preschool group, children who generally listened to instruction, sat happily at a table to complete an assigned task and enjoyed story time.
As much as she loved Henry, Jared and Katie—and she did—it wasn’t easy trying to keep up with their demands. Although she couldn’t deny that