Wyoming Christmas Surprise Read online

  This widow was raising quadruplets alone...

  Then her husband returned!

  Moments before walking down the aisle again, Allie Stark finds her presumed-dead husband at her door. Yes, the former police sergeant had a darn good reason for his disappearance. But now Theo expects to just pick up where they left off? He missed the birth of four babies! In this brand-new The Wyoming Multiples romance, a reunited couple is in for the biggest Christmas surprise.

  “No matter how hard things got those last few months here, you were still my wife. We were still the Starks.”

  She almost gasped, and he wasn’t sure if she was touched or shocked or what. Part of him felt as though he knew her inside out. But he’d lost two years. And now he felt he didn’t know her at all. She’d “buried” her husband. She’d raised quadruplet babies on her own for a year. She was obviously strong in ways he hadn’t been here to witness.

  Was she still his wife? Could they pick up where they’d left off—even if things between them had been rocky? Or, given how troubled their marriage had been then and all the time that had passed—not to mention the big lie of his death—was it just too late for them?

  He sure hoped not.

  * * *

  THE WYOMING MULTIPLES:

  Lots of babies, lots of love

  Dear Reader,

  Second chances are so rare. This Christmas, though, a mom of baby quadruplets will discover that her police sergeant husband, supposedly killed in the line of duty two years ago, faked his death to protect her. Now Theo Stark is back in Wedlock Creek, Wyoming, no idea he’s a father of four little ones...

  Before, Theo’s job came first and he was reluctant to start a family. Their marriage was seriously rocky. Now Allie wonders if her husband’s heart is truly with his newfound family or if he’s back out of obligation. Both Mr. and Mrs. Stark—and their marriage—have been given that rare second chance. And this time around, it’s not just the two of them.

  I hope you enjoy Allie and Theo’s second-chance love story! I love to hear from readers. Feel free to visit my website and write me at [email protected].

  Warm regards and all my wishes for a happy holiday season,

  Melissa Senate

  Wyoming Christmas Surprise

  Melissa Senate

  Melissa Senate has written many novels for Harlequin and other publishers, including her debut, See Jane Date, which was made into a TV movie. She also wrote seven books for Harlequin’s Special Edition line under the pen name Meg Maxwell. Her novels have been published in over twenty-five countries. Melissa lives on the coast of Maine with her teenage son; their rescue shepherd mix, Flash; and a lap cat named Cleo. For more information, please visit her website, melissasenate.com.

  Books by Melissa Senate

  Harlequin Special Edition

  The Wyoming Multiples

  Detective Barelli’s Legendary Triplets

  The Baby Switch!

  Hurley’s Homestyle Kitchen (as Meg Maxwell)

  Santa’s Seven-Day Baby Tutorial

  Charm School for Cowboys

  The Cook’s Secret Ingredient

  The Cowboy’s Big Family Tree

  The Detective’s 8 lb, 10 oz Surprise

  A Cowboy in the Kitchen

  Montana Mavericks: The Lonelyhearts Ranch

  The Maverick’s Baby in Waiting

  Montana Mavericks: The Great Family Roundup (as Meg Maxwell)

  Mommy and the Maverick

  Red Dress Ink

  Questions to Ask Before Marrying

  Love You to Death

  See Jane Date

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  Dedicated to my son, Max—truly sweet sixteen.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Epilogue

  Excerpt from The Sergeant’s Christmas Mission by Joanna Sims

  Chapter One

  “Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue.”

  Bride-to-be Allie MacDougal Stark stood in front of the mirror in the Wedlock Creek Town Hall’s “Bridal Preparation” room, her sisters, Lila and Merry, on either side of her. Lila, the most traditional of the MacDougal triplets, was insisting that Allie tick off the old wedding poem checklist.

  Even though nothing about today’s wedding was traditional.

  “Hmm, something old,” Lila said, tilting her head and surveying Allie’s reflection. “Ah—got it. You’re wearing Grandma’s pearl drop earrings. Perfect.”

  The earrings were beautiful, and Allie loved the idea of having a part of her beloved grandmother with her today.

  “And the ‘something borrowed’ are my shoes,” Merry pointed out, gesturing at the salmon-colored suede pumps on Allie’s feet. They were a great match for the blush-colored lace jacket and matching knee-length pencil skirt that Allie wore for every special occasion. The usual shoes that went with this outfit had horribly scuffed heels, so Merry and her shoe collection to the rescue.

  “Something new is next,” Lila said. “Sexy underthings perhaps?” she added, wriggling her blond eyebrows.

  Uh, no. Allie made a face at her sister, who knew perfectly well that things between her and her fiancé didn’t—and would likely never—merit a trip to Victoria’s Secret. Honestly, if tonight, their wedding night, she and Elliot watched a movie and played Boggle before turning in early with a peck on the cheek, she wouldn’t be surprised.

  “You know,” Allie said, looking herself up and down, “I don’t think I have anything new on right now.”

  As if she would. As the widowed mother of eleven-month-old quadruplets, new was not a word in Allie’s vocabulary. She hadn’t bought anything for herself in at least two years, and most of the quads’ stuff—and there was a lot of stuff—was hand-me-downs or gifts.

  “You actually do have something new, though,” Merry said, nodding at Lila, who ran over to her purse on the chair in the corner and pulled out a small square box.

  “What is this?” Allie asked as Lila handed it to her.

  Merry smiled. “Open it. It’s your wedding present from us.”

  “You guys,” Allie said, looking from one sister to the other and back to the box. She opened the lid. Aww—it was a beautiful oval-shaped gold locket on a filigree chain.

  “Now open the locket,” Lila said.

  Allie flicked open the tiny latch. An itty-bitty photo of her babies, one she recognized was taken just a few weeks ago, was nestled inside. Tyler and Henry were smiling, Ethan was midlaugh, and Olivia had her big toe in her mouth, her trademark move.

  Her heart squeezed. Her sisters were everything. “I love it,” Allie said, grabbing each MacDougal in a hug. “I absolutely love it. But I have to say I’m surprised you got me anything.”

  Her sisters had made their feelings about her marriage to Elliot Talley crystal clear. Don’t marry a man you’re not in love with, Lila had said quite a few times. You have us! Merry h
ad insisted even last night, when the triplets had gotten together for a “bachelorette party,” which meant dinner at Allie’s favorite restaurant for incredible Mexican food and margaritas. We’ll always help you with the kiddos, Lila had said. You don’t have to do this.

  This was marrying Elliot Talley in about twenty minutes.

  “Of course we did,” Lila said. “Because we love you and support you.” She took the necklace out of the box and put it around Allie’s neck. “I can never fasten these things,” she said, frowning. “I have fat fingers.”

  Merry laughed and took over. “We all have the same fingers. And mine are not fat.”

  Allie snorted. “Mine, either,” she said, wiggling hers in the air. The Irish friendship ring Elliot had given her as a symbol of their commitment when he’d proposed barely gleamed in the bright room. Lila wrinkled her nose at it. Hardly traditional, she’d groused the day Allie, newly engaged, had shown it to her sisters.

  Allie didn’t need or want a diamond ring. She had one, the beautiful solitaire in a gold band that her late husband had given her six months before they’d married seven years ago. After Elliot had proposed, she’d moved the diamond ring and wedding band to her right hand, but they didn’t fit comfortably on any of her fingers. So she’d put them away, dropping to her knees afterward in a round of sobs that had shaken her entire body.

  “Wait, what about something blue?” Lila said, shoving her long, curly blond hair behind her shoulders. “You don’t have anything blue.”

  Blue. The face of police sergeant Theo Stark, killed almost two years ago in the line of duty, was vivid in her mind, the first time she saw him in uniform as a twenty-four-year-old cadet in the police academy. He’d joined right after three tours of duty in the army.

  “Sure I do,” Allie said, sucking in a breath. “A two-fold ‘something blue.’ Theo’s memory. With me always.”

  Lila’s face crumpled. “Oh, God, now I’m gonna cry.”

  “Me, too,” Merry said and squeezed Allie in a hug, Lila smushing her way in.

  “You’ll ruin your mascara,” Lila warned, stepping back and handing Allie a tissue. “You can’t marry Elliot with raccoon tracks down your face.”

  Merry opened her mouth to say something, then turned away and put on her usual pleasant expression, and Allie knew exactly what her sister had wanted to say.

  You can’t marry Elliot, period.

  Allie had been dating Elliot, a kind, responsible tax accountant, for only three months. According to her sisters, dating was a stretch, considering they’d never had sex. Ten years her senior at forty-one, Elliot wanted a family, she had a ready-made one, and they got along great. Their relationship had the added bonus of increasing his business, since he seemed like a saint to everyone in Wedlock Creek, and the proposal had turned him into a hometown hero.

  People felt bad for Allie Stark, widowed mother of baby quadruplets. For the first few months after they were born, she’d barely had to lift one baby, let alone figure out how to juggle four. Her family, neighbors, even total strangers in town had rallied around her, whispers of “that poor woman,” “those poor babies,” wherever she went with her huge choo-choo train of a four-seat stroller. Her freezer was still stocked with everything from casseroles to soups. She had an entire kitchen drawer full of gift cards to Baby Blitz. And babysitting offers, from overnights to a few hours to let her nap and pee and have a cup of coffee, had been aplenty. But six months in, Allie had known she had to start standing on her own two feet and learn how to take care of her children by herself.

  Her sisters had been pushing her to date, to get back out there, but even if she could imagine being with another man, there had been no takers. Not one. Not a surprise, considering she came with four babies. So three months ago, when Elliot asked her out, she’d been so surprised and actually kind of touched and had said yes. He was something of a homebody, enjoying staying in and cooking interesting pasta dishes and playing with the babies. He thoughtfully bought them teething rings and chew books that could be read in the bathtub. He also hadn’t pushed her for sex, which she appreciated given her exhaustion. He’d said they’d move their relationship to that level when she was ready—and that if she were never ready, that would be fine, too. Allie had a few theories about Elliot’s lack of a sex drive where she was concerned, but when it came right down to it, she was in this for security for her children.

  Her sisters did understand—anyone would understand—why she’d said yes to a lack of passion for a sense of security and a father for the quads. Allie did care for Elliot and she did want a father for the babies, someone she could trust, someone she could count on. And Elliot, as tax-accountant-desk-job-safe as Theo had been cop-on-the-street-dangerous, would never make her worry in that way she always had. And so she’d said yes. She’d finally accepted that Theo Stark, her husband of five years until she’d lost him and any hope of saving their rocky marriage two years ago, was gone. That acceptance had taken almost everything out of her.

  And this wedding was what it was, so Allie hadn’t booked the famed and beautiful Wedlock Creek Wedding Chapel, which attracted couples from all over the country. According to legend, those who married in the century-old chapel would have multiples in some way, shape or form, à la twins or triplets or quadruplets or more, through luck, science or pure happenstance. Allie’s late parents had married at the chapel thirty-two years ago and had triplet daughters. Allie had married at the chapel and had quadruplets—three boys and a girl.

  The town hall, with its fluorescent lighting and drab interior, was a far cry from the chapel, with its heart-shaped bell atop the steeple, gorgeous stained glass windows and gingerbread tiers that resembled a Victorian wedding cake. One hundred sixty-two guests had gathered to watch her and Theo say their vows in the famed chapel. Today, it would be just her and Elliot, and two witnesses—the town clerk and the receptionist. Her sisters had popped in to wish her luck—and to give her the gift, apparently. Then they were going back to Allie’s house to babysit the quads, who were being treated to lunch by Allie’s neighbor, a wonderful grandmother of fourteen who’d raised quintuplets and had lived to tell the tale. She, too, had married at the chapel.

  “Okay, we’re gonna head back,” Merry said. “We’ll see you at home around two.”

  Allie nodded. The plan was for her and Elliot to treat themselves to a decadent lunch at Marcello’s, a great Italian restaurant here in town, and then go back to Allie’s house to jump right into life as the married parents of eleven-month-old quadruplets. No honeymoon this time around. Seven years ago, she and Theo had flown to Paris, staying only for a weekend, since they couldn’t afford much back then, and it was all the honeymoon she needed for a lifetime.

  Her sisters gave her one final hug each, then headed for the door.

  Allie stared at her reflection in the mirror and smoothed her special-occasion suit, thinking back to the stunning white strapless gown with intricate beading and just enough bling to make her feel like a princess. Whatevs, she thought. This suit makes me feel like an adult.

  “Oh, one more thing, Allie,” Lila said at the door, with her trademark devilish grin. “Just promise me one thing.”

  “What’s that?” Allie asked, eyebrow raised.

  Lila put a hand over her heart. “Promise me. Us. Yourself—that you’re not going to change your name. You can’t be Allie Talley. You can’t rhyme.”

  Merry let out a snort, then gave Lila a jab in the ribs.

  Allie laughed. “Well, if I do change my name and become Allie Talley, at least it’ll make me laugh.”

  Merry grabbed a giggling Lila out the door. Leaving Allie to stare at herself in the mirror, wondering what it was going to feel like to be Allie Talley, who that woman was. She had been Allie Stark for the past seven years—five as his wife, two as his widow. But life had a way of throwing monkey wrenches and curveballs and all sorts of
shocks and surprises at people. You had to adapt, change the plan to fit the new now.

  You’re the new you, a grief counselor had said at the bereavement group she’d attended for a few months. She hadn’t mentioned that to her sisters, that she herself was the “something new” for today; her reason for keeping it to herself had stolen her breath.

  Because she’d give anything for her old imperfect life back, a second chance.

  But she was “the new her,” so in twenty minutes she was marrying Elliot and becoming Allie Talley.

  Allie Talley. She smiled, thinking of Lila, and a small laugh came out of her. She’d been about to make herself cry, but becoming the new her, becoming the rhyme of Allie Talley, had lightened the mood.

  Badumpa.

  Everything is going to be okay, she told herself. She picked up the locket from where it lay just under the V of her jacket and flicked open the latch. Tyler, Henry, Ethan, Olivia. Everything she did, she did for them.

  But suddenly all she wanted to do was race out the door after her sisters.

  * * *

  I’m alive.

  I’m not dead.

  Scratch that—that’ll be obvious the second she sees you.

  I had to fake my death.

  I’ve been walking, talking, breathing, living on this earth all this time...

  Sunglasses on, Stetson pulled down low, Theo Stark sat in a booth in the truck stop diner just outside the town limits of Wedlock Creek, waiting for a refill of his coffee and practicing in his head what he was going to say to Allie when he finally saw her again.

  For the first time in almost two years.

  On the drive up from southern Wyoming, he’d replayed what he’d say over and over. But the closer he got to Wedlock Creek, the more none of it sounded right. It was all the truth, of course, but when it came right down to it, his wife believed he was dead. And he wasn’t.

  At first, he wouldn’t have to say anything. The fact that he was alive would be obvious.

 
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