The Summer Chapters (cut from Stolen Hope, aka the time between the end of the book and the epilogue)

Hope

“Good morning,” Zane says softly, waking me up. “I brought you a cup of coffee.”

“Mmm.” I slowly blink my eyes open, smiling as the sweet dream Zane I was just frolicking with dissolves into the just as sweet and very real Zane.

Who I frolicked with last night, under the moon.

“I could have gotten that myself,” I murmur as I push myself up.

“I know, but I like to take care of you,” he says. “Just like I did last night.”

Heat flames in my cheeks, even though I’d just had a similar thought.

“How do you feel this morning?” He drags a hungry gaze down my body again. “Sore?”

I shake my head and drag in a rough breath. And I tell him the truth. “Empty.”

“That so?” He reaches for me, his fingertips grazing the side of my neck before he cups my nape, holding me as he leans in for a kiss. “Need to be filled up again, pretty girl?”

I nod jerkily. Shame wants to roar to the surface, but I don’t let it.

I liked having Zane inside me. I liked it so, so much. I want it again, as soon as possible.

He smiles before he kisses me.

Slow. Sweet. A little dirty.

“I’ll take good care of you, I promise.”

He always does.

In every way. I vaguely remember him getting up with Bellamy, letting me sleep a little longer. Now, my daughter is nowhere to be seen, and for the first time in her entire life, I’m not worried about that. In the distance, I hear the clatter of people in the kitchen. Zane’s family taking care of my daughter, because she’s now their family, too.

He tugs on his moustache. “We have some pasture maintenance work that’s becoming urgent. Will you be all right on your own today if I’m in the field?”

It’s time we get back to work for real.

“I’ll be all right,” I promise him.

He scoots back and pushes the sheet down to my hips so he can kiss my tummy. “You be good for your mama today, you hear me? She wants to keep you secret a little while longer.”

I ruffle Zane’s hair as he nuzzles the tiny bean inside me, amazed at how much he likes my pregnancy. Feeling blessed on every level.

That thought carries me through the day, while Zane is out in the fields working on water lines and solar pumps.

While he’s gone, I help Luna in the greenhouses. All day I yo-yo between feeling like I’m floating on a cloud to free-falling through space. It’s like the morning sickness I’m trying to hide but on a cosmic level.

A wonderful, heady, but also disorienting secret to be keeping.

In the afternoon, I retreat to the more solitary task of processing our excess greens into freezer cubes before I return to the house to get dinner started.

Oh, the irony of how domestic my life is here. How much I bristled at it when Derek tried to force this kind of lifestyle on me. But he wasn’t working all day in fields, either. It’s way easier to hustle to get dinner made for Zane when I know he’s spent all day breaking his back for his family.

For us.

And when he gets back, he does his own laundry before he has a shower.

Over dinner, he watches me in a way that feels like a caress.

That heady, floating and then falling and then floating again feeling returns.

*

After Bellamy’s bath and two stories pulled from the book about animals of the Rockies, she’s still not ready to close her eyes.

Zane appears in the doorway with a small stack of books. “I found a few more options for bedtime reading.”

I slide over, making room for him to sit on the edge of the bed.

At first Bellamy wants to climb on him as he shows her the books, but once he starts reading, she lies down next to me.

He has a good voice for bedtime, and before long, both of our eyes are drifting shut.

When I wake with a start, Bellamy is fast asleep, and the shower is running next door.

My pulse picks up as I slide out of bed. I know exactly where I want Zane to fill me up next.

He says my name when I open the door, a low, inviting growl. I leave my clothes on the floor and step into the steam, into his arms.

There’s no talking after that for a bit.

He pins me to the tiled wall, his mouth on mine, his cock thick and hard against my belly as his hand drifts between my legs.

He groans when he finds my clit, when he feels the way I react to his touch. He’s in no hurry, kissing me and stroking me until I’m slick. And then teasing me, rubbing us together on the outside, his cock sliding against my clit as he ruts it up between our bellies like a trapped snake, his balls slapping against my aching, eager entrance.

I squirm higher, pressing my arms on his shoulders, trying to climb to the tip of him so it can notch where I want him the most.

He yanks me back down again.

I laugh and rock my hips, chasing what I want.

I pant against his mouth, a wordless plea. Please Zane.

He drops to his knees and puts his tongue there instead. His thumbs hold me open in a way that makes my clit throb.

“That’s it,” he says against my sex. “Can’t have my girl rushing to do something too quick. Gotta make sure you taste ready.”

His voice is thick, and as he works his tongue over my very ready flesh, he closes his eyes and takes a big, deep inhale.

The burning need inside me turns into an absolute inferno. “Zane, please.”

“Tell me.”

“I need you inside me.”

He thrusts his tongue deep.

It’s good, but it’s not big enough.

I rock my hips, desperate now.

“That’s it, yeah.” He sucks on his lips as he stares up at me. “You taste ready for my cock now, gorgeous.”

Surging to his feet, he lifts my thigh over his hip, creating space to notch us together.

I wind my arms around his neck and cling to him as he sinks inside, stretching me open, filling that aching, empty want inside me. Promising me a satisfaction I never knew before him.

This is different.

It’s different because it’s Zane, it’s different because we’re standing up, and in the shower. It’s very different because I can taste myself on his lips as he slants his mouth across mine.

But mostly it’s different because of why I want this.

I let my hormones get the better of me more than once, chasing a hungry feeling that never got satisfied properly. Now I know that as good as it feels for Zane to ease himself into my body, being thick and hard and taking up space, I know it’ll feel even better after, once he’s flooded me with his release and he keeps holding me.

This is different because it’s everything. It’s want and satisfaction woven together.

And the sound he makes when he’s finally nestled deep between my legs, cock buried to the root, is the best thing I’ve ever heard. A low, possessive, claiming growl.

“Mine,” he adds for clarity.

“Yours,” I promise.

“You don’t need to feel empty anymore.” He nips at my lips as he starts to move. Slowly, pulling his thick shaft out an inch, then thrusting deep again. Punctuating each thrust with a promise that’s about so much more than sex. “You’re always mine, you understand? I’m the man you come to when you’re feeling empty.” Thrust. “When you want a kiss.” Thrust. “When you need a hug, or—” His voice breaks, and he snaps his hips. “—if you’re feeling scared, too.”

I rock my hips, meeting his thrusts, working myself against him as I get slicker. “Zane…”

“I want to be all of that for you.” Thrust. “Let me take care of you.”

My head rolls back and his mouth drops to my neck, sucking and nipping. I work one hand between us, getting my fingers on my clit.

“That’s it,” he growls. “Rub your pretty little cunt as I fuck you.”

“Faster,” I beg.

He gives me faster.

“I’m going to—”

“Fuck,” he grunts. “Me, too. Make me come with you. Milk my cock, that’s my girl.”

I tighten my leg around him, slamming myself down his shaft, and he grabs my ass, pulling me tight as he goes rigid, words devolving to primal noises as we find a rough, wild release together.

After, he keeps holding me. After, there’s still so much pleasure.

After, it continues, because it’s different, because he loves me, and he cares about this part just as much.

“I thought it would be hard to let you into my body,” I whisper as he gently washes me under the warm spray. “But it’s just wonderful.”

He wraps his naked body around mine. “Fuck, I like hearing that.”

“It’s easier than the rest of it.”

“What does that mean?” He asks it softly, with curiosity, not judgement.

And because I know it’s safe, I tell him about my domestic feelings earlier, and how conflicted I am sometimes about raising Bellamy in the country—but not here. I don't have any conflicting feelings about the ranch, or Zane. And that’s a little complicated to sort out in my head.

“It’s funny,” he murmurs when I finish spilling my guts. “Because I think you trusted me with all of that before you trusted me with your body.”

I guess I did. I knew subconsciously that Zane was safe before I could intentionally make the choice to give myself to him. With all of it. My fears and my needs and my body. And my children.

“We’re going to figure it all out together.” He kisses my forehead. “But I’m glad we don’t need to do much work to figure out sex. I want that to be an easy joy for you.”

Which is reason enough to slide to my knees in the shower and show him just how easy and joyous it is for me to love his body with mine.

Zane

“All right, plans for the day,” Luna says, slapping the dining room table. “Produce boxes need to be packed, then loaded onto Zane’s truck for delivery.”

“I want to do the delivery!” Bellamy says, excitedly.

“I promise it’s not that much fun,” I tell her.

She scowls and pouts.

“Bella,” Hope cautions. “No thank you with that face.”

“No thank you with that face,” Bellamy says right back.

Hope’s eyebrows lift.

“Sorry, Mommy,” Bellamy whispers.

“That’s better, boo. Maybe we’ll go into town and do a special delivery to Mercy soon.”

“Do you want to take her box to her?” I’m surprised. Hope hasn’t shown any interest in going into town on her own yet.

She’s been in twice, once to see Dr. Tailfeathers for a prenatal check-up, and once for therapy. But both times I drove her. No questions asked, that feels like my job.

But if she’s ready to venture out, it might be good for her to do a safe test run with a friendly face.

“And then we could…” Oh, I have a great idea. “We could go to the L-I-B-R-A-R-Y to get more bedtime B-O-O-K-S?”

Hope’s eyes light up and she nods.

Bellamy’s head swivels. “More bedtime what?”

“Stand up rule applies,” I say. “Go put your boots on. We need do some work, get the truck loaded, and then I’ll tell you.”

She doesn’t let me forget it, either. As soon as the boxes are packed and the truck is loaded, she puts her hands on her hips like a tiny tyrant and says, sounding five times her age, “Well?”

“Bellamy!”

The three-year-old smiles. “Sorry, Zane.”

“You catch more flies with honey, just remember that. Anyway, we’re going to get you a library card so you can sign out some bedtime books.”

Her mouth drops open. “Books? For me?”

“Mm-hmm.”

She claps her hands and spins around in an excited circle.

We move her carseat back to Hope’s little SUV, then they follow me into town. When I pull into the medical practice to drop off the first box, Hope drives past, Bellamy’s frog waving out the window at me.

By the time I finish the deliveries, they’ve had a visit with Mercy, and are ready to head down the street to the Dragonfly Creek Public Library.

Bellamy is already holding Hope’s hand. When we hit the sidewalk, she takes mine, too, so she’s between us.

“Swing?” she asks as she skips along.

Across the road, Cash comes out of his garage and waves as we figure out how to do a synchronized arm swing, sending Bellamy flying ahead of us, her legs kicking in the air.

“We’re going to the library,” I holler, lifting my voice to reach my brother. “You feel like getting literate?”

Even from this distance, I can see him rolling his eyes.

“I read plenty,” he yells back.

But he still says something to Riley, then jogs across the street.

“I never miss an opportunity to go to the library,” he says when he joins us.

I scoff. “Since when?”

But when we step inside, the answer becomes immediately obvious.

It has been probably fifteen years since I last stepped foot in the library. So I could be forgiven for not knowing that Haven Bingham works here. But Cash is right across the street, and since he just said he comes here all the time…

“What are you doing?” I growl under my breath as he smiles at the pretty redhead.

“She's not like the rest of her family,” he says, not tearing his eyes away.

Yeah, he doesn’t want to fuck the rest of her family. He just wants to fuck them over, and I don’t blame him for that.

But messing with a religious girl isn’t the way to do that.

“Leave her alone.”

“Aren’t you here to get a library card for Bellamy?” Cash herds us closer to the counter. “Focus on your task at hand, brother. Don’t worry about me. Haven and I are just friends.” He lifts his voice. “Isn’t that right, Haven?”

She blushes.

Jesus Fucking Christ. I give her a tight smile. “How are you?”

“Great, Zane. Nice to see you again. And who is this?” She leans over, seeming unaware that Cash is eyeing up the top of her cleavage.

“I’m Bellamy.”

“And this is Hope,” I say. My… Just mine, but that doesn’t work great for introductions.

But after the drama that went down on the ranch, with first responders crawling all over the scene, zero explanations are needed.

Haven’s eyes go wide. “Hope,” she breathes. “Nice to meet you. I’ve heard a bit about you, just a tiny bit, not a lot, I swear. But you know how small towns are. It’s, um, nice to meet you.” And then she lets out a flustered laugh. “I said that twice, so please just believe me when I say I mean it twice.”

Hope’s mouth falls open, then snaps shut, and nods.

Before she can reply, the front door of the library swings open, and Jessika Foote walks in, a book in hand.

She takes one look at Hope, then slides her gaze to Cash, and finally to me.

“Can I help you?” Haven asks.

And we all notice the tone shift. Cooler, more professional.

Hope smiles.

I step closer and pull her in against me, my hand wrapping possessively around Hope’s far hip.

Jessika’s eyebrow shoots up.

Yes, mine.

Cash suddenly gets very interested in a display of animal books, drawing Bellamy in that direction.

“This book was damaged when I took it out,” Jessika says, thrusting it across the counter before she flounces out.

Haven stares after her.

As soon as the door shuts behind her back, Hope—my shy, sweet surprising girl—reaches for the book and picks it up. “It looks like it fell in a bathtub,” she says as she lifts it to her nose. “Smells like it, too.”

Haven sighs. “It’s not worth being the centre of a town meeting debate to charge her for it, but the lying is obnoxious.”

“I’ve only met her twice, and both times she struck me as obnoxious,” Hope confirms. “But it’s important to pick your battles. Hey…do you have any books about midwifery?”

Surprising on many levels.

“Yeah?” I ask as Haven types something into her computer.

“Just researching my options,” Hope murmurs.

“Good for you.”

I think about that for the rest of the afternoon. I think about how I didn’t know how to introduce her to Jessika. Girlfriend sounded insufficient. We aren’t officially engaged yet. My woman feels right but in a private way. Mate even more so.

I want to be able to shout from the rooftops that she’s my wife.

And to do that, first I need to take her back to Lover’s Canyon. Not yet. No rush, but…soon.

Hope

The day after we go into town and I make a new friend, we’re hit by an early summer heat wave. Luna makes sure we never run out of popsicles and lemonade, because thy are the best things ever after a morning spent picking vegetables. 

They’re both also lovely treats that soothe my morning sickness, and for a few weeks, it’s easy to just pretend that I’m not pregnant during the day.

After another week of cuddles, Bellamy moves back to the room across the hall where we stayed when we first moved to the ranch.

That makes it easier to sink into my pregnancy being a delicious little secret between Zane and me. My belly starts to poke out more, just a little, at the end of the day. My breasts get heavier and more sensitive.

And Zane is so good to me.

Every night.

Sometimes soft, sometimes hard. Almost always fun. Once in a while, weirdly emotional, and I break down crying. Zane is rock steady and makes me feel loved. Safe.

I keep going to therapy.

June slides into the first week of July. Another heat wave hits, and my belly threatens to really pop.

Every night, we talk about if the next day will be the day we tell his mom.

Every morning, I put on one of Zane’s big t-shirts, and we make it through another day of pretending that we aren’t going to have a baby by Christmas.

Popsicles return to our daily routine. A little bit of family time at regular breaks—although it’s hard for my thoughts to not turn private and dirty when I stare at Zane’s mouth as he laughs and licks a yellow popsicle and grins again, all sticky with sweat from an afternoon of baling hay.

He came in search of lemonade. But he also came to look at me and let me look right back, to give me attention because he knows I like it. 

The popsicles are mostly for Bellamy, who often needs an afternoon bribe to not wander too far from the greenhouses. 

But when he shows up and she’s just pulled a cherry popsicle from the freezer, his eyes light up. “You got any more of those in there, Bella?”

“No,” she lies brazenly.

He raises his eyebrows at her. He’s getting good at that. I don’t have to intervene at all. “Bellamy, please share.”

“Okay…but you can’t have the pink ones.” She scowls at him. “They’re mine.”

He winks and leans against the counter, right next to the ladder stool she climbs on when I’m working in here. “No problem. Give me any other colour.”

“I don’t like yellow ones. They make my face pucker.” She shoves a lemon popsicle at him. “You can have this one.”

“Is it banana?”

She giggles. “No. It’s lemon.”

“Banana popsicles used to be a thing. Are they not a thing anymore?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why don’t you know? Did you buy these?”

Her giggle gets louder. “No! I don’t have any money.”

“Why not? Do you need a job? I’ll pay you to muck out the horse stalls.”

She climbs up next to him. “What does muck out mean?”

“Have you ever noticed that the animals poop in the barn?”

“Yeah. That’s gross.”

“It sure is. Well, we’re the dumb humans who clean up after them. Muck out means to pull out all the straw and poop.”

“I don’t want that job.” She gives him a stern look. “Ever.”

“You’re a city girl, just like your mama.”

“She’s never lived a day in her life in the city,” I murmur, smiling.

“Doesn’t matter. It’s in her blood. She’s a princess. And that’s all right. Leave the stall mucking to me, I suppose. And I’ll buy you popsicles, too.”

“But not banana.”

“Nope. Just pink popsicles for a perfect princess.” 

She likes that so much. She kicks her feet, and they happily finish their popsicles together before she goes running off to the chicken coop to tell Luna all about banana popsicles.

“Don’t encourage her to be a princess,” I murmur after he gives me a lemony kiss.

“Why not?”

“I don’t want her to be spoiled.”

“That is going to be hard. I want her to be incredibly spoiled. We should argue about this all night. Once I finish baling.”

“Go.” I push him in the direction of the field. “And then come back.”

“Always.”

*

The heat breaks again, as quickly as it spiked. Summers in Alberta are funny that way. And then the first raspberries are ready to pick.

“We can add check raspberry bush to our daily tasks,” Luna says. “Just to see if we have any to harvest. Or to eat for a second breakfast. And you know, if you pick some of the leaves and dry them, they make an excellent tea for pregnant women.”

She says it as an aside. She doesn’t look at me as she says it, or after.

But it sends a jolt up my spine anyway.

“I think your mother knows,” I tell Zane that night.

“Really?” He seems unbothered. “She’s going to be so happy, I promise.”

“I want to believe you. I do believe you, of course,” I hasten to add. “She’s your mom and she’s always loved you and your brothers through a lot of ups and downs. But if Bellamy told me that she’d taken up with someone quickly, I’d be concerned. If I then found out that person was already pregnant?”

“Okay, when you say it like that…” He catches my fingers in his and pulls them to his mouth, kiss my knuckles. “We’ll tell her tomorrow. And if she already figured it out, then she’s waiting for us to share in our time, and that’s a good sign.”

But in the morning, Luna is a whirlwind, unable to be pinned down for a conversation. And then she starts a big painting project with Bellamy that looks incredibly messy.

My daughter is thrilled.

And so is Zane, who suggests we sneak away for a lunch date.

“I got you something,” he says before I excuse myself to get dressed. 

I follow him to the library, where a boot box is sitting on his desk. This box is much nicer than the bag he pulled rubber boots out of.

He lifts the lid off, and inside are brown leather boots with pretty detailing all over them. “For a very special city girl who might want to dress up for a barn dance. Or a small town lunch at The Friendly Table. Just as much fun.”

“This feels like a very specific outfit request.”

“I can't say I hate the idea of you in a pretty skirt and those boots, City Girl. I don’t hate that at all.”

I never wanted to be a country girl. But as I look at the gleaming leather boots, I’m painfully aware of how much I want to be his country girl.

Zane Kincaid worked some kind of magic on my heart to get me in cowboy boots and a flirty little sundress.

My heart in my throat, I nod. “Tell me more.”

“You like my kisses.”

“Mmm.”

“I could kiss you all over. Kiss your pretty knees. Put these boots over my shoulders and kiss your thighs.”

Whew, this man. I fan my face. “That’s the most country thing you’ve ever said.”

“I’m a country boy through and through.”

“My cowboy.” I grab the front of his shirt and kiss him.

“Your cowboy. I told you, I want to take you to the Raspberry Jamboree.”

“That’s even more country.”

He spins me around. “Go find something pretty that goes with these, and then we’ll sneak out while Bellamy has her hands full.”

In the sundress, I think the belly is a little too obvious. 

But when I put on my favourite white linen skirt and slide my feet into the boots, which are a perfect fit, there’s just enough of a heel that my body shifts, and the belly disappears. I top it with a soft suede shirt that matches the boots and the pink dots high on my cheeks.

I look as country as I can get.

Taking a deep breath, I race downstairs to Zane.

He’s waiting at the bottom, and when he sees me, his eyes light up. He changed, too, into clean, fitted jeans and a blue buttoned-down shirt.

“Shall we?” He gives me his arm.

We take his truck, which he’s cleaned out, and it feels really special even though it’s just a quick lunch at Mercy’s diner.

Except when we get to town, Zane doesn’t go to The Friendly Table. He turns right and heads toward the waterfall.

“What about lunch?”

He grins. “I packed us a picnic.”

“Clean truck, picnic lunch, romantic destination…” I tick them off on my fingers. “Someone wants to get lucky.”

“I’m already lucky.” He parks, then gestures for me to wait. “I’ll come around and help you down.”

Like I don’t jump out of his truck every day now.

But it’s nice to have him help me down, my skirt sliding against him, his hands strong and warm through my thin suede shirt.

We walk hand in hand into the canyon. It’s different without Bellamy. We can move faster, but also take our time appreciating the quiet shift from the outside world to this lovely hidden escape.

Instead of taking me down to the base of the waterfall this time, Zane points me up a different path, and we climb up to a ledge overlooking it.

The perfect private picnic spot.

He spreads out a blanket he’d tucked into the top of his small picnic basket.

Once we’re sitting, he shows me everything he brought with him. Bottled sparkling water, very fancy. Sandwiches. Fruit. A tiny cheese board. And a box of chocolates for dessert.

“This is all incredible.” I crawl over to him on my knees. “Thank you.”

And then we’re making out, giggling together about the picnic needing our attention, but we need to kiss a little more. Just a little more. Until I’m fully flushed and Zane thinks that’s a great excuse to unbutton my shirt, revealing my thin tank top under it.

“My beautiful girl,” he says when he slides it off me. “Here, hang this up on that tree so it doesn’t get wrinkled.”

It doesn’t really matter, but I get up anyway and hang my shirt over a branch.

When I turn around, Zane’s on one knee, a ring box in his hand.

“There was one other thing I put in the picnic basket that I need to show you before we eat,” he says, his voice catching.

Slowly, he opens the velvet box and reveals an ornate vintage-looking ring. Not a wear every day kind of ring, but one so fancy that when you put it on, it would make your hand feel heavy.

The kind of ring that isn’t easy to find, especially from a ranch in the Foothills.

“You make me so happy, Hope. I didn’t know what I was missing in my life until I saw your car pulled over on the side of the road. And I didn’t know what this feeling in my chest was from that very first moment that I saw you, not at first. But it didn’t take me long to figure out that it’s recognition. I took one look at you and knew deep down you were meant to be my wife. I wanted to say it so many times before now, but I also never want to rush you, sweetheart. Do you know how hard it is to look at you a hundred times a day and think, marry me, but not say that out loud?”

“Yes.”

“It’s so hard.”

“No, I mean yes.”

“I haven’t asked you yet.”

“Okay.”

He grins. “Marry me, Hope. Marry me next week. Marry me next month, or this Christmas right after our baby arrives. Let me claim this baby as ours, in every way. Marry me, and let me raise Bellamy as a ranch kid who can do anything she sets her mind to. Marry me, and if you want to go back to school in the city, I’ll support that dream with everything that I have. Everything that is mine is yours, and I want all that is yours to be mine, as soon as possible.”

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes to all of that. Yes to everything. Yes to you, my cowboy.” I lean over, laughing and crying now, and I kiss him, cupping his freshly shaved jaw. “Does your mother know? Was the art project a big ruse?”

“The biggest ruse, yes. She knows. She knows about the baby, and she knows how much I love you. And she’s happy for us.”

He slides the ring on my finger. Like the boots, it’s a perfect fit.

I’m still processing it all. I start laughing as it sparkles as bright as the waterfall below us. “You want to raise Bellamy to be a ranch kid?” 

“One of these days she’s gonna pick up a chicken and teach it who’s boss, and it’s going to be the best day of her life.”

“Oh Zane… That was the day we stopped at the top of the road, and you pulled over behind us.”

“That was just the beginning, gorgeous. That was just the beginning.”

Zane

We get married the morning of the Raspberry Jamboree in August. A private exchange of vows on the ranch. 

But we turn the barn dance into an impromptu reception the whole town is invited to, and it’s the best night of my entire life—until it’s trumped by the night that Hope’s water breaks, four months later.

Hope

December

The first contraction hits in my sleep, sharp and low. The second happens while I’m sitting on the edge of the bed, trying to decide if I should wake Zane up.

By the time the third has me in its grip, he’s awake and kneeling in front of me, trying to put pants on me because I’ve been sleeping in his rodeo t-shirt and nothing else.

I keep shaking my head.

“I know, City Girl, but it’s fucking cold outside and I don’t want you to get frostbite on the way to meet our baby.”

I love the way he says that. I need him to keep saying it, because—

I lurch forward as my water breaks, a startling pop that soaks the edge of the mattress and my legs and I think Zane, too.

“No…” I whisper.

“It’s okay.” He kisses my forehead.

“Zane.” I clutch at his shirt. “No. Time.”

He goes still for a second, searching my face in the dim light of our quiet bedroom.

And then he explodes into motion. “Stay here.”

Like I’m going anywhere. 

I roll onto the bed on all fours, pressing my face into my pillow as I try to breathe and get ready for the next contraction.

This baby is so low, suddenly, it feels like he’s going to tear himself free of my body any second, and all I can do is bear down and feel it happen.

When Zane comes back, Luna is with him. I don’t look up, but I can hear her voice, a low murmur.

Zane has towels from the bathroom, and he works one between my legs, then his hand lands firmly on my lower back, right where I’ve liked him to rub in the last few weeks.

“My mom is calling for help,” he murmurs. “You want to do this here?”

Want to? No. I wanted to make it to a hospital this time. I wanted an epidural and monitoring and all the good things Dr. Tailfeathers promised me.

But this is nothing like my labour with Bellamy. And what I want is out the window.

“I need the bathroom,” I manage to gasp.

With a towel between my legs, Luna and Zane help me get next door.

And that’s where two of Dragonfly Creek’s paramedics find me fifteen minutes later, as our baby is crowning and Zane is preparing to catch him.

“You look like you’ve got this under control, Dad,” one of them says. “But we’re here to check on your baby as soon as they slide into this world.”

With a yell, I push again, because there’s no sliding happening here, only a very undignified eruption from my body.

But the look on Zane’s face when they call him Dad makes up for all of it, topped only by the next moment, as he cradles our baby in his hands and gazes down with an expression of such gentle wonder, my body immediately forgets the chaos of the last thirty minutes.

“It’s a boy,” he breathes. “Welcome to the world, son. You’re a little devil, aren’t you? Living up to your name already.”

“Good pipes on him,” one of the paramedics says. “What’s this little guy’s name?”

Zane looks at me. We’ve been debating back and forth for weeks. 

“Finn Kincaid,” I say, my voice raspy from moaning and carrying on.

“Good name.”

“First kid in our family to be born with the name he’s going to keep forever,” Zane says, busting at the seams with pride. If the paramedics wonder what that means, he leaves them hanging, because he’s shifting around me to give them room to work, to check my blood pressure and help deliver the placenta.

“You’re pretty calm, Mom,” the other one says.

“She’s done this before,” Zane says, his lips against my temple.

But I shake my head. I haven’t done this before. Never gave birth surrounded by this much love before. Never knew it was going to be okay before. Never had anyone to hold me like this, and protect my baby like this.

From across the hall, I hear Bellamy’s little voice. “Mommy?”

Luna’s voice is immediately there, whispering that Mommy is busy, but I know there’s no stopping them. Both of them want to see that I’m okay, that the baby is okay.

I try to tell Zane, but I’m choked up.

He reads my mind, anyway.

“Guys, can we just cover her up for a minute?” His arm circles around me and Finn, flicking a towel over my lower body. Commanding. Sure.

And then Bellamy worms her way into the bathroom.

She comes to an abrupt halt when she sees her little brother on my chest.

“Oh.” Her eyes go wide.

Like she doesn’t pay any mind to the two strange paramedics in the bathroom with us, but the tiny little wriggling infant…he has all of her attention.

And she’s not sure.

“Mommy?” Her gaze skips to my face. Her lip juts out. She’s grown up a lot the last few months, but she’s suddenly not my baby anymore, and that’s hard.

My heart exists outside of my body in more than one little form now.

“Come here, Bellaboo,” I whisper. 

And because Zane has his hand on Finn, I can give her all of my attention for a minute.

“Your baby brother came really fast. Faster than you did. But I’m okay, and he’s okay, and in the morning, we’ll have a nice long cuddle together and you’ll get to look at him all you want, okay?”

She presses her face into my neck and nods. 

“Can you go upstairs and sleep with Grandma Luna tonight?”

Another nod.

“I love you,” I whisper. Just for her ears. “I will always love you so, so much.”

“Love you Mommy.” And then she wriggles free.

She stops before standing up, and then she very delicately leans in and air kisses Finn’s towel-covered back. “Love you, Baby.”

Dr. Tailfeathers arrives as the paramedics are discussing whether to transport me to the hospital or not. She brings with her the vitamin K shot for Finn, and says she’s going to stay for a cup of tea with Luna until I’m settled in bed, and there’s no need for us to go into the city.

I have a little cry when Zane helps me back to the bed and I find it cleaned up, the sheets changed.

“Your mom had to—”

“My mom got to,” Zane corrects me, rocking Finn back and forth in his arms as I try to figure out how I want to nurse.

Everything is different this time. We have so many more pillows. Regular pillows, body pillows, dedicated nursing pillows. Fresh sheets and so many helping hands.

A wave of emotion rolls over me. Tears start rolling down my face.

Zane is beside me immediately, putting Finn in my arms on the nursing pillow I picked, and then he’s wiping my cheeks with a tissue.

“You told me about this,” he says. “Hormones. And you warned me you won’t like to be reminded it’s hormones.”

I laugh.

He grins.

Then he settles in beside me, sliding his arm around my shoulders. “Lean on me, City Girl. I’ll tell you some more jokes while you show me how hungry my son is.”