Wyoming Christmas Surprise. Melissa Senate

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СКАЧАТЬ 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 СКАЧАТЬ