A Baby in His Stocking

An hour later, having finished off the box of shells, Natalie sat alongside Wyatt in the old truck, warming her hands in front of blowing heater vents. “Thanks for this. It turned out to be exactly what I needed.”

“Happy to oblige.”

After a few moments’ comfortable silence, cocooned in the truck’s dark cab, Natalie said, “I haven’t yet found the nerve to tell my folks about my pregnancy. Their world’s pretty black and white, and having an unwed daughter with a baby on the way wouldn’t even begin to compute.”

“Sorry. When it comes to family disapproval, mine wrote the book.”

“Oh, please.” Twisting on the seat for a better view of his handsome profile, she asked, “What have you ever done that the mighty Buckhorns disapproved of?”

“Like your folks,” he said, narrowly avoiding a fallen tree, “they would prefer I be married. Oh—and they can’t stand my house.”

“Really? Town gossip says it’s pretty amazing.”

“I like to think so.” His smile warmed her far more efficiently that the heater.

“And lately, they’re mighty pissed about me leaving.”

“Hmm…Josie told me about your great Ethiopian adventure. Sounds like a once-in-a-lifetime chance. Something to be done before you finally do settle down with a wife and those requisite 2.5 kids.”

Natalie had expected Wyatt to appreciate her support. Instead, his expression hardened.

She asked, “Did I somehow offend you?”

He shook his head and gripped the wheel tighter.

“Then why the one-eighty in your mood?”

After a glance out his window at the inky nothing beyond the glass, he exhaled. “What the hell? I’ve needed to get this off my chest for a while now, and I like you, Natalie. Always have. Most girls fell for my Buckhorn hype, but not you. You always treated me like a regular Joe.”

Stomach sour, Natalie wasn’t sure she wanted to hear whatever Wyatt had to say.

“I appreciate that. Outside of family, and a few close friends, there aren’t a lot of people I can trust to keep my private issues private. Know what I mean?”

She nodded. “I feel that way about Josie. As happy as I was to see her marry Dallas, part of me mourned to have lost her. Sure, we’ll always be close, but not the way we were before she began bursting with family.”

Wincing, he said, “There’s that word again. The bane of my existence.”

“Family?” Wrinkling her nose, she said, “I would think however your relatives are, they’re still your blood and you love them.”

“Love has nothing to do with it. Their expectations for me to be just like them is what brings me down—especially since no matter how much they bitch and nag about me marrying and having kids, their hopes will never come to pass.”

“Why? You’re young. How can you arbitrarily decide you never want to be more than a bachelor?”

“Easy.” Thumping the heel of his hand against the wheel, he added, “Especially since it wasn’t even my decision. I’ll never have a son or daughter.”

“What do you mean?”

“To spell it out, I’m 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?”