A Wyoming Christmas To Remember. Melissa Senate

you just beautiful,” she whispered, rocking the infant slightly in her arms.

      Sawyer eyed the baby. He looked healthy, good color in his cheeks, eyes clear. He wore plush green pajamas with feet. Thank heavens for that kind nurse, telling Cole what to buy, giving him a little breathing room to leave and return.

      He could imagine Cole driving from the hospital with the twins, no idea where he was going, what he was doing. And then the idea lighting in his mind: Sawyer and Maddie.

      The baby in Maddie’s arms began to squirm some. You’re my nephew, Sawyer thought, trying to wrap his mind around that. I’m someone’s uncle. Two someones.

      “Hey, there’s what looks like an M on his cap—in marker,” Maddie said, peering closer. “M for male?”

      Sawyer looked at the other baby’s cap. “This one has an S on it. Could be their initials.” He froze, then looked at Maddie. “M and S? That’s us. Maddie and Sawyer.”

      Her eyes widened. “Coincidence?”

      He shrugged, barely able to take in everything, let alone begin to process and think straight.

      “Could you root around the overnight bag and see if the starter kit of bottles and formula are inside?” she asked. “He doesn’t feel wet, but he’s probably hungry. Babies eat every few hours the first couple of months, I think.”

      He picked up the bag Cole had left behind and sat down with it, going through it. Yup, luckily there were the hospital-issued beginner supplies. A small pack of newborn-sized diapers. Two bottles and a few different nipples. Pacifiers. Formula. Two blankets, a few extra baby hats. Enough to get through the night.

      And some clipped-together paperwork. The birth certificate applications. Cole had named them. One was Shane Wolfe. The other was Max Wolfe. Something told him the nurse had initialed their caps as a just-in-case.

      “Their names are Shane and Max,” he said, holding up the application. He flipped through the papers. The relinquishment of Gigi Andersen’s parental rights, signed by two witnesses, both nurses. He shook his head.

      “Shane and Max. Sawyer and Maddie. That can’t be coincidence.”

      “I’ll go make up a bottle,” he said, unable to wrap his mind around that. “At the PD, we’ve watched training videos on assisting with births and newborn care, so none of this is all that unfamiliar to me.”

      And honestly, he was grateful for the chance to slip away into the kitchen so that he could catch his breath. Take a breath. He scanned the directions on the small canister of formula, then added the powder and water to the bottle, shook it up and put on the correct nipple. He quickly made up the other bottle just in case the little guy’s brother woke up.

      Cries coming from the living room—two different voices—indicated he had. Sawyer rushed back in, bottles in hand, and gave one to Maddie.

      As he reached in to pick up the other baby, he glanced over at Maddie, leaning back against the sofa, feeding the infant, her expression so serene, so full of marvel. This is what she always wanted, he thought. All she wanted.

      His chest squeezed and he focused on the other baby, gently lifting him out and settling beside Maddie with the other bottle.

      Man, was this weird. You’re my nephew, he thought, watching the baby slurping the bottle quite contentedly, his blue eyes opening and closing as if he couldn’t decide whether or not he wanted to be awake or asleep again. The baby was his kin, but nothing about this felt natural. Maybe because he and Cole had been estranged for the past couple of years. There had been times over the years when Sawyer had felt close to Cole no matter the distance between them, physical or emotional. But since that last time, when Sawyer had given Cole a place to crash for a few days and he’d stolen cash and a diamond bracelet that Maddie had inherited from her late grandmother, Sawyer’s heart had closed up to his brother. He’d felt done with Cole, the last straw.

      And now this.

      With the newborn cradled in her arms, Maddie reached into the bag and rooted around and pulled out a folded-up mat. “I think this little one needs a change.”

      She lay the baby down on the mat and undid his wet diaper. She found a small container of cornstarch and gave his bottom a sprinkle, then found some rubbing alcohol and cotton pads and gently cleaned the umbilical cord area before putting on a fresh diaper. “I have no idea how I know how to do all this. Either instinct or common sense.”

       Or you wanted to be a mother for so long and did so much research in preparation that it’s in your blood and bones and veins if not your memory.

      Once the infant in Cole’s arms was done with his bottle, Maddie reached over for him as well and got him all changed, then they each sat on the sofa, just holding the twins, unable to even speak for a time.

      “I guess we’ll hang on to the paperwork for a few days,” he said. “See if Cole returns.” He looked down at the baby in his arms, S for Shane and possibly Sawyer, then at baby Max in Maddie’s arms, M for Maddie. Their mother had signed away her rights. Their father had taken off. And here were Maddie and Sawyer, caring for them, all of a day old, for God knew how long. “I guess it’s fitting they’re named after us. If they even are.”

      “Wow—we’ve got newborn twins to take care of.” She stared down at Max, then glanced at Sawyer. She seemed about to say something, but then didn’t. “Sawyer?”

      He looked at her, shifting Shane in his arms just a bit. The baby didn’t even stir.

      “Are you okay with this?” she asked. “I mean, taking care of the babies. Given...how you feel about having babies in the first place.”

      “I do what needs to be done,” he said, then regretted it when he noticed the look on her face. A little disappointment, a little surprise, a little Jeez, really? “And they’re my nephews,” he added fast, “so of course I’m okay with it.”