Wyoming Christmas Surprise

“I know. My fault.”

She shook her head. “There were two people in this marriage with expectations. Not just one.” She sat at the kitchen table and wrapped her hands around the mug. Theo sat across from her.

“Are you disappointed about Elliot Talley?” he asked, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Disappointed at not being Allie Talley?” she asked and laughed.

He loved the sound of her laughter, rich and full.

“Allie Talley,” he said, unable to hide his smile. “Talk about dodging a bullet,” he added, hoping she’d find that funny and not inappropriate or offensive.

She smiled. “Right? Seriously, I’m glad he got cold feet. If I’d had to end things between him and me, I would have felt terrible. He’s a good person and I’m happy for him that he realized he was in over his head.”

In over his head—because of the quadruplets, he realized.

“What about me?” he asked. “How do you think I’ll do?”

“Well, you’re a different animal altogether, Sergeant Stark. You serve and protect—it’s your motto. Whether you want this particular life is the question.”

He tilted his head. “You mean the life of a family man.”

He hadn’t wanted it before—yet. Was he ready now? He didn’t know. But the babies were here and that was all that mattered.

She nodded.

“I have responsibilities,” he said. “I’m not about to shirk that.”

“Waaah! Waah! Waaaah! Waaah!”

“Well, here’s your chance to find out how you’ll do,” Allie said, standing up. “The quads are awake. I’ll take two, you take two.”

He felt a little sorry for the two who would get stuck with him. He’d probably put the diaper on backward. Then there’d be the awkward hold as he tried to figure out exactly how to balance the baby against him. General stiffness. He’d held babies here and there and had some basic skills training in delivering a baby, so he wouldn’t be completely useless upstairs. But when he tried to remember the last time he’d picked up a baby, he couldn’t. Allie’s sisters didn’t have children, he had no siblings, so there were no little nieces and nephews being thrust into his arms. Nor had there been any on the cattle ranch.

He followed Allie up the stairs and into the nursery. He watched her pick up Tyler and then lay him on the changing table, making quick work of changing his diaper. He went over to Ethan’s crib and reached in, his heart hammering so loud in his chest, in his ears.

He picked up the little guy under his arms, Ethan’s hazel eyes big and curious as he stared at this stranger bringing him to his chest.

“Hey there, little dude,” Theo said. “You could probably use a diaper change, and I’m your guy.”

Ethan grabbed his ear and laughed.

“I know. Ears are funny,” Theo said, unable to stop staring at the baby’s face, at how much he looked like a combination of him and Allie. Allie’s eyes, his nose. His mouth, Allie’s expression. The hair color was his; the texture, thick and wavy, was Allie’s.

“I’ve already changed three babies and you haven’t even brought poor Ethan to the changing table,” Allie said on a laugh.

“Oh, right,” he said, rushing the baby—his son—to the changing pad on the second dresser. He knew how to change a diaper, of course. Basic baby care had been part of his police academy training, as were lots of necessary useful life skills he’d need on the job. But changing this diaper was different. This was his baby.

“I’m just teasing,” Allie said. “I’ve had lots of practice. You’ve had none.” His face must have fallen, because Allie bit her lip. “I didn’t mean it like—”

“It’s okay,” he said. “You’re absolutely right. I haven’t had any practice. But I plan to change a lot of diapers.”

She laughed. “Fine with me.”

He turned his attention back to the baby on the pad in front of him. Taking off the diaper was the easy part, as was chucking it in the lidded diaper pail beside the changing table. Ethan kicked up his chubby little legs, making squealing sounds. Theo smiled at him.

“Watch out that he doesn’t pee on you,” Allie said. “Diapers are right inside the top drawer with cornstarch and ointments if he’s chafed.”

Theo’s eyes widened and he grabbed a diaper and the container of cornstarch. He gave the creases of the baby’s legs and his bottom a good sprinkle. Then he slid the diaper under Ethan. It took him a few seconds longer than it should have to figure out where the sticky tabs were folded, but he got the job done. He wriggled Ethan’s legs back into the pajamas, then held him against his chest, relishing the scent of him—baby shampoo, cornstarch, baby.

I’m your father, he said silently to Ethan, staring at him. You’re my son.

“You take Olivia,” Allie said, gesturing at the freshly changed baby girl banging a teething ring against the bars of the crib as she sat and made ba, ba, la noises. “One in each arm. The family room is small, but it’s babyproofed and they can crawl and pull up to their hearts’ content.”

The family room. No such room existed two years ago.

He scooped up his daughter, mesmerized by her thick dark hair and her green eyes—so like his—and her dimple, which was all Allie’s.

“Ba da!” Olivia squealed as Theo cradled her against his left side, Ethan on the other.

“Hey there, little lady,” Theo said. I’m your father, he added to himself. He’d introduce himself to them all downstairs.

He followed Allie to the family room, which used to be a dining room they’d rarely used unless they had company. Now the room was painted a lemon yellow with two murals of zoo animals on the walls. Foam mats with letters and numbers covered the floor and everything in the room had rubber edges. There were Exersaucers, a big playpen, tons of toys and stuffed animals, and a bookcase adhered to the wall, full of little books.

Allie set her two on the mat and so did Theo.

The babies began crawling, and he watched them with wonder. He lost track of who was who, his heart sinking.

“I guess it’s easy for you to tell the three boys apart,” he said. “I forget who was wearing what. Well, I know Ethan is in the green pajamas, now that I think about it.”

“They’re color-coded. Ethan is always in green. Tyler is always in blue. And Henry is always in orange. Lucky Olivia gets whatever color I feel like. I can tell the boys apart, but it’s easier on my sisters and Geraldine or whoever else is helping out if we have a system we can all rely on. This way, no one misses a meal or gets fed twice or doesn’t get a turn at this or that. That kind of thing.”

He looked from Ethan to Tyler to Henry, taking in the colors and studying their faces, their hair, their expressions. “Ah, Tyler has more intense features than Henry. And Ethan has lighter hair than his brothers. Ethan and Tyler have hazel eyes. Henry’s are green like Olivia’s.”

She nodded. “There are lots more differences. They may be quadruplets, but they’re very individual. Olivia loves mashed chickpeas, but her brothers will fling them at the wall if I dare put the smashed beans on their trays. Ethan loves chocolate ice cream, but Henry will only eat vanilla. Tyler is the most adventurous eater. Loves all vegetables, too.”

Theo smiled. “I have a lot to learn about them.” He looked at the four, crawling and playing and pulling up and babbling. “As you said, they’re all so beautiful and healthy and happy. I never want to leave this room.”

Allie laughed. “Oh, give it a good twenty minutes.”

He reached for her hand but felt her hesitation. He had to give her time. He knew that. He couldn’t just waltz right back in.

Maybe we should take a break, he remembered saying just a week before his “death.” He’d come home late, after two in the morning, and Allie had been awake and frantic. He’d been so laser-focused on the McBruin case he’d forgotten to call or text, and he’d completely forgotten they were supposed to go to her good friend’s thirtieth-birthday party on a dinner cruise. She’d been looking forward to that, had bought a new dress. And he’d forgotten it all. They’d had one whopper of an argument that night, everything under the sun had been brought up and flung. She wanted to start a family. He wanted space. She wanted more of him. He wanted to be able to do his job as needed.

Maybe we should take a break...

He’d been shocked he’d said it, not sure if he meant it or not. The hurt in her eyes, the way her face had crumpled had rattled him, floored him, and he hated how he still hadn’t known in that moment if they should take a break or not. He always felt like he had the answers, knew how to handle himself and the world. Except when it came to Allie and their marriage. He’d been floundering, sinking, breaking her heart every day, every night.

Let that go and start with now, he reminded himself. You’re not the same person you were two years ago. Neither is Allie.