Page 70 of Forbidden Cowboy

Another thing I had missed out on with Anna, and certainly something made even more complicated by their medical state.

“If you take a seat,” she said, pointing to a chair near the incubators, “I’ll bring them to you.”

I did as she asked, and when she brought over the baby, I held out my hands somewhat awkwardly.

The nurse smiled, and explained to me how the baby would rest on my chest, and showed me how to hold my hands so as to not hurt them.

“If you’re comfortable with it, it really would be good for baby to have full skin-to-skin.”

I got what she was saying. I looked around, and even if I felt a little foolish taking my shirt off in the middle of a hospital, I could see the logic. She placed the small, almost miniscule person on my chest, and my breath caught in my throat.

“Look at him, happy with Dad,” she said, smiling.

“He hasfingernails,” I said, astonished by the tiny hand that scratched on my chest.

The nurse placed a light blanket over my hands, and I was grateful—I was pretty sure nothing this small could regulate its own body temperature.

“He does?” A voice came from the door, and I turned to see Sierra there.

She was in a wheelchair with a blanket covering her lap, and being wheeled by someone from the transport team, but looking excited.

“He does!” I whispered excitedly. “Come look!”

She was wheeled over to me, and there was so much love in her eyes as we both gazed down at our son. I could see a fine dusting of hair on his head as well, but this looked much darker, closer to mine and Anna’s coloring.

“Would you like to hold one of them?” The nurse that was with me asked kindly.

The transporter took their leave, and Sierra nodded, already crying.

In moments, her hospital gown had been loosened so the top part of her chest was visible, and one of the babies was placed on the showing skin.

“God, I love you,” I said to Sierra, and she looked up at me with watery eyes, “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.”

“It’s okay,” she said quietly, “it’s all okay now.”

And finally, after a day of pain and worry, it actually felt like it might be okay.

We worked our way through holding all three of the babies, spending a couple of hours in almost silence. Our only spoken words were the occasional gasp when one of them did something as simple as moving their tiny limbs.

“Oh, big stretch,” Sierra said to our daughter as she was handed back to the nurse that had stayed with us the whole time.

“We’ll come back and visit you, babies,” I said fondly, looking over the three, tucked happily back in their incubators. “Mom and Dad have important things to do. Like sleeping, and naming you.”

“It’s so cute,” Sierra said as I wheeled her away, “the way you speak to them.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s all soft and adorable, kind of like someone talking to a dog.”

I was grateful she couldn’t see the blush on my cheeks.

* * *

Anna wouldn’t stop talking about how excited she was to meet the babies the next day.

She had stayed overnight with Beau, who was also excited, but still didn’t feel comfortable setting foot in the hospital. He said he would wait until they were home to meet them. By the doctors’ and nurses’ estimations, the triplets would be allowed to go home within a couple of weeks. I was excited to hear it, but also spent a lot of time on the phone contracting builders and designers to pull off a rush job of setting up a nursery for the three of them. Eventually, they’d all have separate rooms, but Sierra and I had agreed that they would probably be better off in one room together initially.

“Tell me, tell me!” Anna said, looking at the babies.