Stolen Desire

“He did? Grandpa did that?” She seemed very surprised. I must remember one day to tell her the story grandma had told me my last night home on the ranch before I came after her.

Epilogue

Wyatt

She had three girls, shit on a stick. I’ve faced down enemy snipers, trained assassins, and everything in between, but nothing scared me more than holding my little angels in my arms for the first time. It’s a good thing I was sitting down when the nurse handed them off to me, or I’d have been on my ass.

My wife looked on from the hospital bed, beaming at us as I looked down, wondering how I’d got this lucky. Our life so far has been more than I ever wished for. Once she got over being mad at me for the way I’d handled things, once she came to accept that I’d never once forgotten her, it’s like a window opened up in her heart, and she let me back in once again; not that I’d ever left mind you, I refuse to believe that.

Our days were spent on our own ranch a few hours away from the family spread, but you wouldn’t know it as often as the family comes to visit. Grandpa T was even making noise about buying up some land around our place to build a vacation getaway for the family to stay at when they come to visit.

Right now, they were all outside in the waiting room after taking turns coming in to see the new additions. “Baby, they’re perfect, they look just like you. They’re identical, how’re we going to tell them apart?” I was starting to panic.

All these months, I never once let myself think that they were anything but boys. Boys I can rough house with, take around on my shoulders, teach them how to be men, but girls? It didn’t seem to matter, though, because my heart was already full to overflowing each time I look at them.

Two Years Later

Dani, Jessie, and Court are a handful and then some. Short for Danielle, Jessica, and Courtney, I’d picked out their names myself, which their mom had allowed with her blessing. We still can’t tell them apart, not yet at least, and my little darlings seem to be catching on to that fact with the games they play.

I watched them cross the yard toddling after the baby ducks that had found their way up this way close to the house from down by the manmade lake than ran along the property on the other side. It was a nice sunny morning. The day wasn’t too hot yet since it was still early; that’s why they were all still dressed in their little girl jeans and pink, blue and white button-down shirts with the pearl buttons.

My little cowpokes were too adorable with their pink straw cowgirl hats tied under their chins. I didn’t want to damage their little feet, so the western wear stopped there, on their feet were soft-soled pink tennis shoes that just slipped right on. I know those will be the first to go as soon as it starts to get warm.

I saw one of the nannies trailing behind them as they went into stealth mode, they get that from their daddy, but I’m keeping my eye out to make sure the mother duck doesn’t turn around and let loose.

A door slammed somewhere, and I looked over my shoulder from where I was sitting on the top rail of the corral and jumped down when I saw sweet baby coming out the door. I don’t know how many times I’ve told her not to get the bruiser in her condition, but she never listens.

Bruiser is our almost one-year-old son Wyatt Jr. who, for some reason, when his mother fell pregnant again became clingy and needy. Some days he won’t let her out of his sight. His older sisters could give a fig. Their only involvement is to tap her tummy every once in a while and say ‘baby’ in their little girl tongue before running off to play.

Not bruiser. He seems to know that these new little ones are going to take his place in the lineup, and he’s putting in his bid early not to be left out poor tyke. “Morning, baby, I thought you were still asleep.” I’d left her in bed after making love to her, which always tires her out these days.

I took the kid and rubbed the side of her tummy where one of the twins, boys this time, I checked, kicked my palm. “They’re active this morning, huh sweet baby.”

“Yes, and my breasts hurt.” I swallowed hard and looked down at her chest. Her chest that defies reason.

Her breasts hadn’t really gotten bigger with Jr. I figure that was because there was no room on her chest to fit any more weight. But where you’d expect tits that size to sag and droop, hers were bouncy and firm. It had something to do with the dumbbells she’s been lifting, I guess.