Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

Priest

Aggie’s the one with the bum leg, and she’s going to beat me inside. She’s all but flat-out running into the building, and when we clear the front doors, I look at the woman at the information desk and ask, “Maternity waiting room?”

“Third floor, take a right off the elevators.”

“Thanks! Come on.” Aggie’s hand in mine, we hustle toward the bank of elevators, and in less than a minute, we’re standing in the maternity waiting room with practically everybody I know. “How is she?”

“They’re saying it’ll be in the next thirty minutes,” Penny answers.

“Good. We made it.”

There’s not time to say anything else before Bulldog jets into the room, and we all turn to look at him. “How’s it going?” Patch asks.

“Good. She’s doing really well. The doctor says it won’t be long now. Ohmygod, I’m so scared.”

“Everything’s gonna be fine. Get back in there with her, and tell her we’re all here and we love her,” Izzy says.

“Yeah, okay. I will. Thanks.” And he disappears again.

It’s hard to tell if people are scared or excited. The women are all chattering away, but all of the guys look pensive, and I know what they’re thinking―the same thing I’m thinking. If that was my wife in there, I’d be a basket case too. Patch and Paddy are the two who seem the most relaxed, and I guess that’s because they’ve been through this before. “Were you in the delivery room when I was born?” I hear Fiona ask Patch.

“Wouldn’t have dreamed of being anywhere else. You were the prettiest baby, honey. Just beautiful.”

“Awww, thanks, Daddy!” The teenage girl is beaming, and I’m relieved to see her so happy.

Time and coffee passes, and we’re all on a third cup when a song starts to play over the speaker system: “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.” I gaze around, and all the women are smiling and crying at the same time. “What’s up with that?” I ask.

“They play that every time a baby arrives,” Mavis says, and I know how much this hurts for her. She wishes she could be here someday doing this too, but she’s pretty sure that’s impossible for her because of the damage those lunatics did to her. But her new son, Reboot’s son, Martin, will be here real soon, and their new life will begin. I’d noticed Sarah isn’t here, and I’m sure she and Lenny are watching Paddy’s boys and Taylor at the farm, but she would’ve been a comfort to Mavis right now.

And in just a couple of minutes, somebody says, “Oh my god! There he is!” Standing in the doorway of the waiting room is Bulldog, and in his arms is a tiny bundle.

“Can we see him?” Audrey asks.

Very carefully, Bulldog pulls back one of the blanket’s edges, and inside is a tiny baby, his face a shriveled-up, old man visage. He’s wearing a little knit cap, and his miniature hands are fisted and pressed against his cheeks. “Oh my god, he’s perfect,” Penny whispers.

“So beautiful!” Mavis murmurs.

Tears pour down Bulldog’s face as he looks at the little guy, and then he looks up at us. “Everybody, meet our son―Patrick Porter Wade.” I watch as Patch and Hollywood both fight tears, and I look around the room at the happy faces.

This is my family. No matter where they all are, they’re my home. Aggie leans against me, and my arms wrap around her. This is my woman. This place is my life. I’ll love and defend them all with every fierce, loyal bone in my body.

I’m one very, very lucky man.

Aggie

Damn, I’m beat! I had no idea I had this much stuff in my little bitty apartment. I kinda think this is the way to go, though. We made the decision last night after we left the hospital, and now I’m just tossing stuff in boxes to get it moving. No three weeks of boxes sitting around, just everything here and then everything there. The guys are loading the truck, and in a few minutes, everything will be in it. It’s time to walk the rooms.

I’ve lived in this apartment most of my adult life. When I moved in, it was a brand-new building permeated with the scents of fresh paint and new carpet. Now the carpet is sort of shabby, and I’ve repainted at least four times. At least one of the bathroom tiles is cracked―I did not do that, it happened on its own―and the bedroom window is stuck and won’t open. No, it’s not paint. The wood has swollen until it just won’t open. But it’s served me well. It’s always felt like home. I’ve laughed and cried here. I’ve had all of my coworkers here at one time or another―except for Albert, that weird guy who taught algebra for a semester and told Deborah he wanted to lick stamps for her. What a creep. I was never more relieved to see somebody go. Other than him, they’ve all been here. My parents have been here, as have my siblings and my nephews and niece. I’ve spent hours reading on the sofa, sorting clothes on the bed, standing in front of the stove on Thursday nights so I had something to take to the staff potluck on Fridays. I’ll miss it.

“Gettin’ nostalgic on me?” I hear a voice ask, and I turn to find this unbelievably good-looking man standing in the doorway, leaning against the door jamb, with his arms folded across his chest.

My smile is probably weak as I turn to gaze around again. “Maybe a little. I’ve lived here a long time.”

“You could stay here. Just come out to the farm when you wanted.”

There’s no smile on his face when I turn to look at him and ask, “Is that what you want?”

“Absolutely not, but what I really want is what’s best for you, and if you want to stay here and you think that’s best, I’ll live with it.”

“No. I told you before, what’s best for me is being with you.”

“Okay, if you’re sure.”

“I’m positive. And thank you for letting me bring my living room furniture.”

“You’re welcome. The new cottages can use whatever furniture yours replaces, and the colors and styles are something I really like. Kinda mid-century modern. So that makes it easy for me. The very first time I stepped into this room, I was struck by how cute and cozy it was. You’ve got a good eye. I’m glad those pieces are coming with you.”

“Thank you!” As soon as I step up to him, his arms uncross and mine slip around his waist. When he hugs me to him, I press my cheek to his chest and sigh. This man is everything I ever could’ve wanted. “I’m sad that I’m leaving here, but I’m excited to get this relationship cookin’.”

“Me too, baby girl.”

“Last load. We’re headin’ out,” I hear one of the guys call out.

“Right behind you,” Darius calls back, then smiles down at me. “Ready?”

I nod. “Ready.”

It only takes us about an hour to unload everything, and I know it’ll take me a few days to get it all moved around and put away, but that’s okay. He promised me he’d build me some bookshelves for my books and knickknacks, so some of that will have to stay packed away for a little bit. The big challenge will be some of my cooking stuff, but I’m thinking Audrey might actually like to have it in the kitchen. I’ll ask her.

But I’ve got to get things straightened out in here pretty quick. I’ve got cooking to do. Tomorrow is a big day. Darius isn’t thrilled, but his exact words were, “Well, if it’s gotta happen sometime, might as well be now.”

I hope he still feels that way tomorrow evening.

Priest

Quiz time for me, apparently. “My mom’s name is…”

“Rebecca.”

“Yeah.”

I nod in relief. “And your dad’s name is Willard.”

“Yep. My sister―”

“Georgia.”

“Yes. And her husband is―”

It only takes me a second. “Gerald.”

“Right. Then there’s my brother―”

“Arnold, and his wife is Gracie.”

“You’re good at this!” she sings out, laughing.

“I’m trying! Georgia’s kids are Morgan and Matthew, and Arnold’s is DaShawna.” I look around a bit, then spot it. “That’s it, right?”

“Yep. That’s it.” She’s totally relaxed, but I feel like I’m going to have a heart attack. It’s all I can do to pull the car into the driveway. What I really want to do is turn it around and take off, even though the little Pacer wagon doesn’t have the ability to squeal tires. “Okay. Gotta get all this food in. Help me, baby.”

“Your wish is my command,” I say with a smile, hoping I drop dead between the car and the house. Standing there with my hands out, she places some kind of large dish in them, then balances a pie on top. Oh, hell, I’m gonna drop this shit, I just know it.

The front door opens and a woman who looks like a thinner version of Aggie comes bopping down the front steps. “Hey, y’all! Oh, here. Let me get some of that.” Thank god she takes the pie off the top of the heap. “Okay. Got it. Give me that basket, girl,” she says to Aggie and takes the basket of fresh rolls. “Darius, right? I’m Georgia.”

“Good to meet you, Georgia. I figured that was you. The two of you look a lot alike,” I say, and both women frown. I’m about to panic when they both start to laugh. “Oh. Y’all funny, huh?”

“Yeah, we funny,” Georgia says, still laughing. “We real funny.”

“Yeah, Mama and Daddy don’t think we so funny,” Aggie says, but she’s laughing too. “Let’s go put this stuff down.”

We make it into the house without dropping anything, and once we’re in the kitchen, Aggie takes the big dish from me and places it on the counter. There’s an older woman standing at the stove, so I know that must be Rebecca. Aggie’s about to open her mouth when the woman turns and says, “Leave it to my daughter to not make proper introductions. I’m Rebecca, and you must be Darius.”

“I was about to introduce him!” Aggie says, a touch of exasperation in her voice.

“Yes, ma’am. I’m Darius. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too. Aggie, you need to take our guest out to meet your daddy.”

“I was planning to! Lawd, Mama, you act like I ain’t got no sense.”

“Uh-huh. Treats me the same way,” Georgia mutters.

“Go on before I whip the both of ya,” Rebecca says, but just before she turns away, she winks at me, and it makes me grin.

“Come on,” Aggie says and takes my hand. Oh, this is the part I’m not looking forward to. Not at all.

I can hear voices, mostly laughter, and the hall spits us out into a large room on the back of the house. It’s absolutely loaded with basketball and football memorabilia. Three men and a woman are sitting there, and when we step in, they turn to face us. “Well, who do we have here?” the older man asks as he rises.

“Oh, no, sir. Don’t get up. I’m Darius.” I reach out and when he takes my hand, his grip is firm. “You must be Mr.Henry.”

“It’s Willard. This here is Arnold, my son, and Gerald, Georgia’s husband. That right there is Gracie, our daughter-in-law.” Gracie is a blue-eyed blond, and that’s surprising to me. Aggie never mentioned that her sister-in-law is white.

At just that moment, the back door pops open and a little fair-skinned girl with Georgia’s facial features sticks her head in the door. “Daddy, the boys are peeing in the pool!”

“We are not!” I hear somebody shout from outside. “We’re just teasing her!”

“You boys cut it out,” Gerald bellows, and I almost laugh. Talk about a normal family―they sound like something right out of a sitcom. “Sorry. Get the three of them together and you’d think they had no raisin’.” I have nothing to say to that, so I just grin and nod. I’ve never been around kids. Taylor was a new experience for me. “You got kids?” he asks.

“Nope. None.”

“Some days I’d say you’re missing out on the greatest joy in life, and some days I’d say you’re the luckiest man alive,” Gerald says with a smirk, and Arnold and Willard are nodding along.

“I feel like the luckiest man alive just to know this woman,” I say and reach for Aggie’s hand. As soon as it’s in mine, I feel more secure standing there.

“I hear you live out there on that farm,” Willard says with one eyebrow hopped up.

“I do.”

Arnold and Gerald are looking back and forth at each other, to Willard, and then back at each other again. Finally, Arnold turns toward me. “That farm? The one out in Mallie?”

I give him a single nod. “Yep. That’s the one.”

“Whaddya do out there?” he asks.

“We have guys who make blades of all kinds, and I do the leather braiding for the handles of some of the knives and blades. I work on tack too.”

“Got a picture of some of your work?” Gerald asks, so I whip out my phone, scroll through my pictures, and then show him one of them. “Oh, man, that’s nice.”

“Thanks. That one was for a guy who does French and Indian War reenactments.”

“So that’s all y’all do, make blades?” Gerald asks. From the corner of my eye, I can see Willard sizing me up. Not surprising.

“We’ve got a guy who blows glass too. Makes all kinds of things.”

“That’s cool,” Arnold says.

“And we’re a medical search and rescue team.” Their eyes go round with that one. Yeah. Surprise. We’re not just out there fucking around with a forge. “We have a helicopter for airlifts.”

“You have a… helicopter? You’re shitting me,” Arnold says.

“Son, not in this house,” Willard warns.

“Sorry, Daddy. It’s just hard to believe that… You have a helicopter? Do you fly it?” Aggie’s brother asks.

“No. We have a couple of pilots. Actually, the pilot is a chief warrant officer. U.S. Army, retired. Wounded veteran. His second officer is a registered nurse.”

“Wow,” Gerald says.

“We’ve got another nurse too, and an EMT, plus the guy who operates the hoist for us is studying to become an EMT.”

“Saved a lot of people, huh?” Gerald asks.

“Saved some. Lost some. But we’ve never gone out to look for somebody and not found them. Dead or alive, we find them.” A pain slices through my heart when I think of Tim.

“Like that kid who died a while back?” Willard asks.

“Yeah. We found him. ’Bout killed us all, but at least his family got closure. That one was rough. Found what was left of a woman who was eaten by a bear too.”

“Whoa!” Arnold yells.

“Damn! That’s rugged!” Gerald barks.

“Not in this house,” Willard says again.

“Sorry, sir,” Gerald says in apology. “But dang, that had to be rough.”

“Yeah. It was.”

It gets quiet, and finally, Willard grabs the elephant in the room by the trunk. “Son, Aggie has explained to us where you were before you came to the farm and where you grew up. I just wanna say, we ain’t gonna hold that against ya. You paid your debt to society, and everybody deserves a fresh start. Long as you treat her right, you’ll get no pushback from me.”

“Thank you, sir. I’d never do anything to hurt your daughter.”

“You’d better not. I may be old, but I’m not that old,” he says and chuckles.

“No, sir. I’d never underestimate the abilities of a man who’s protecting his family.”

“Good thing. Now, to the important part. You a Bengals fan?”

I start to chuckle. “No, sir. Bears.”

“Oh, lawd, son, coulda talked all day and not said that!” he pretend scolds, and the two younger men are laughing. “Next thing you know, you’re gonna be tellin’ me you a Bulls fan.”

“I am, sir.” Now I’m actually laughing. “I see you’re into college ball.”

“Don’t tell me you a Louisville Cards fan.”

“No, sir. Wildcats.”

“Now that’s what I’m talkin’ ’bout! Finally!”

“But I watch the Reds in the summer.”

“Okay, now we got somethin’ to work with.”

We spend the rest of the time before lunch talking sports, and Aggie and Gracie disappear, probably into the kitchen. When the womenfolk call us to lunch, we’re all laughing and talking about games we’ve watched recently. They seem like a fine group of men, and I’m happy to be here with them.

It surprises me to find that they’ve seated me at the table beside Willard. Aggie is on my other side, and Rebecca is on the other side of him. The kids are allowed at the table, so the room is full. As soon as we’ve all sat down, Rebecca says, “We gonna ask the Lord’s blessin’ over this food. Matthew, honey, will you say the blessin’?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Everybody bows their heads. “Dear Lord, thank you for this food. Thank you for them what prepared it for us to eat. Thank you for my family, and for Aggie finally having a boyfriend. And thank you for the iPad I’m gettin’ for my birthday. Amen.”

“You ain’t gettin’ no iPad for your birthday,” Morgan informs him.

“You don’t get to say what I’m gettin’ for my birthday. Ain’t none-a yo damn business,” Matthew blurts out.

“Oh, naw. Ain’t gonna be none-a that talk in this house. Gerald, you gonna handle your son?” Willard asks, his voice rising in volume.

“Yes, sir. We don’t talk like that and you know it,” Gerald says to his older son. “You eat your lunch and then go sit in your mama’s bedroom.” I have to assume he means the one she had when she was a kid. “And you apologize to Darius for being so rude at the table.”

The boy’s eyes go steely and he hops up from his seat, glaring at his dad. “Why? He ain’t nothing but a no-count ex-murderer!”

Aww, hell. That’s when Aggie jumps into the fray. “You gonna hush that boy’s mouth, Gerald, or am I gonna do it for you? You listen here, you little smart mouth, I’m gonna―”

“Aggie, let Gerald handle it,” Willard bellows.

“Handle what? I’m-a smack that face!” Aggie yells back.

“You ain’t gonna touch my kid!” Georgia screams.

“He ain’t gonna talk about my man that way!”

“It’s not like he was lyin’,” Georgia counters.

I hear my brain whisper, And there it is . I was dreading coming, but I swear to god, this is ten times worse than I could’ve ever imagined it. I’m just sitting here, watching the whole thing blow apart, not knowing what to do. It’s epic. I couldn’t make this shit up if I tried.

At some point, I grab for Aggie’s hand, but she’s waving her hands around so much that there’s no way I can catch it. DaShawna has started screaming about Morgan flicking green peas at her, and Arnold is barking orders at the boy to stop it, but Gerald is telling him to calm down. I catch a glimpse of Gracie, and I can tell she’s trying not to cry. Rebecca’s elbows are on the table and her face is in her hands. Willard is in the middle of the shouting match with Aggie, Gerald, Georgia, and Matthew. This is my time to formulate an exit strategy, so I slowly slide my chair back until it’s against the wall. They’re all yelling and throwing hands and bellowing, so I slowly and quietly ease out of my chair and slink along the wall until I get to the doorway, then round it quickly and head to the car.

I’m practically running when I get to the door, and I bolt out and down the porch stairs, dash to the car, and slip behind the wheel. When the door closes, I take a deep breath and start to laugh. I’ve been sitting there for two or three minutes when the passenger side door opens and then closes, but I’m laughing so hard that I can’t even look to see if it’s Aggie. Damn, I hope it’s her. A feminine voice finally asks, loudly, “What the fuck is so damn funny?”

“Oh my god, it’s like a fucking TV show in there!” I gasp through my laughter.

“Oh, you think that’s funny, muthafucker? Really?”

“Yes! It’s funny as hell! Y’all like a bunch of lunatics in there!”

“Ain’t you the least bit offended by the way that big-mouth little muthafucker talked about you?”

“No. He’s just an ignorant kid. What bothers me about that scenario is that somebody had to tell him I was a no-count ex-murderer, if I remember the phrase correctly, and I have to believe it was his mama or daddy. And as soon as your parents realize that―”

“Oh, they done realized it, and a damn war is breaking out in there!” she shouts. “And you just duck out?”

“Baby, I tried to grab your hand, but you was throwin’ hands so fast that I couldn’t even see ’em. I mean, they was movin’ faster than the speed of light!” I’m still laughing, and I know it’s pissing her off, but I can’t help it. The more I think about it, the funnier it is.

And then I hear it―a little chuckle. In under fifteen seconds, she’s laughing too. “Faster than the speed of light, huh?”

“Oh, baby! You was throwin’ them hands and screamin’, and all I could think about was how you was screamin’ my name last night, and I couldn’t do nuthin’ but laugh, but I didn’t dare do it in there ’cause I didn’t know what the hell would happen if I did that. Somebody prolly woulda knocked my block off. But damn, baby, it was funny as hell! And I know you prolly ain’t never got your dish back from old Mr.Tilley, but you want your dishes back from in there, you’ll have to come back another time, ’cause this no-count ex-murderer is goin’ home right now. I’ve been told all my life how fierce I am, but I ain’t fierce enough to go back in there! No way!”

I start the car, and before I can throw it into reverse, her hand lands on my forearm. “I won’t be speaking to them until they all call you and apologize. I won’t have them talking to you that way.”

“Thank you, baby. I’m thankful that you have my back.”

“Always.”

I wait until I get about five blocks down the road before I say, “My birthday’s coming up. Think I could get an iPad?”

Aggie cuts her eyes toward me. “Do not try me, mister.”

That makes me laugh again. “Yes, ma’am.”

We’ve been back here at the cottage for about an hour when my phone rings. “Yeah?”

“There are a few cars over here, and the folks say they’re looking for you,” Hollywood says. I step to the front door and look out. Sure enough, there are three cars sitting at the door to the kitchen. Doesn’t take any imagination to figure out who they belong to.

“Okay. Be right there. Thanks.”

“Who was that?” Aggie asks from the sofa.

“Hollywood. Seems I have visitors.”

She hops up from the sofa and peers over my shoulder. “Oh, naw. Uh-uh. Nope.”

“You stay here.”

“No! I’m goin’―”

“No. You’re not. This is between me and them. I’ll take care of it. If I can’t handle them without you, I’m doomed. You stay right here.”

“But―”

“No buts. Stay. Right back.” Without another word, I head out the door. They’re on my turf now. I can’t wait to see how this goes.

I open the kitchen door to find the whole bunch of them sitting at tables, and Audrey and Hollywood are serving drinks, which I wish they hadn’t done. But my friends are polite, and I appreciate that. Instead of greeting them, I just wander over to the sink, turn around with my back to it, fold my arms across my chest, and stand there, mute, waiting.

They all look back and forth at each other, and finally Willard says, “Ain’t you gonna yell at us or somethin’?”

“Nope. That’s not how I operate.”

“Oh? And how do you operate?”

“I’m responsible for my behavior. You’re responsible for yours. I was nothing but polite and respectful to you in your home. I have no control over how you behave. That’s on you.”

Nobody says anything, so either they’re getting pissed at me, thinking I’d apologize for being alive and not being just like them, or they’re thinking about what I’ve said. I wait a full three minutes before I say, “Well, nice chat, y’all. Thanks for stopping by,” and head toward the door.

As soon as I swing it open, I hear a female voice call out, “Wait!”

I spin and look at them. “For what? Today, to my face, I’ve been called a no-count ex-murderer.” From the corner of my eye, I see Hollywood and Audrey’s jaws drop. “Now, granted, I won’t argue with the ex-murderer part. I’ve never denied what I did. But the no-count part… I have two jobs that I’m really proud of, and one of them might someday be to save the life of somebody in this family. I was part of the team that pulled Aggie from that rooftop at the school. So no-count? Unless you think the lives of others aren’t important, I’d say that counts for something.” As I glance from face to face, it’s hard to tell if they’re the least bit sorry. “Okay. It’s obvious you have no intention of apologizing to me, so why exactly did you bother to come out here? Looks to me like you wasted a trip because, honestly, without an apology, I really don’t think I have anything to say to you.”

After what seems like forever, Matthew stands up. “Mr.Darius, I’m sorry for what I said about you bein’ a no-count ex-murderer. I shouldn’t oughta said that. I’m not even sure what that’s about. I just heard Mama say that to Daddy about you.”

And now the truth comes out. Exactly as I thought.

Then Georgia stands. “I admit, I did say that in front of the boys. And I’m sorry. That was wrong of me. I don’t even know you. That was judgy, and I’m not usually like that.”

Arnold stands. “That’s not true, Georgia.” From behind him, she makes a face. “You’re always like that and you know it. But I’m sorry for what happened, Darius. I know I didn’t say any of those things and, honestly, I wasn’t thinking them, but our family doesn’t usually behave that way. I’m embarrassed, and I’m really sorry.”

He hasn’t even gotten back in his seat before Willard stands. “It was in my house, and I’m not proud of that. I’m sorry that you were treated that way, Darius. You’ve taken it better than most men would.”

“Sir, if you had any idea the things I’ve lived through, you’d know that this was mild compared to some of what I’ve experienced. I’m just thankful that I have enough self-control and self-respect to walk out instead of arguing and fighting with all of you. I’m not going to do that. But make no mistake―if any of you ever treats Aggie that way in front of me, you will not like the outcome. I won’t tolerate that. Ever. I can be a fierce sumbitch if I need to be.” When I see Willard’s eyebrows hike up, I say, “ My house, and I can speak the way I want.”

Willard nods. “Understood. And I feel good knowing that you’d go to the mat for my girl.”

“I absolutely will. No doubt about it. So here’s where I stand with this. I want to get along with all of you, have a good relationship with you, because I love Aggie. But in all honesty, I don’t trust any of you right now, not after today. It’s going to take a while for me to feel comfortable being around you after what happened, just so you know that going in. If I’m tired or I’ve had a bad couple of days and it’s time for us to come visit you, I may tell Aggie to go by herself, because if I’m already not at my best, I don’t want to be around people I have to guard myself against.”

“No, sir. You won’t have to―”

I cut Willard off immediately. “Yes. I do. Regardless what you say right now, I do. It’s not about refusing your apologies. I do accept them. But I don’t believe in forgiving and forgetting. Forgiving is fine, but remembering is how we protect ourselves from the same dangers over and over again, so I won’t ever forget. My memory will soften with time, but I’ll always remember how you invited a total stranger to your home, one your daughter loves, and treated him poorly. That will stay with me as a warning for me from this point on that you have the potential to treat me that way. Can you understand that?”

No one says a word, and I’ve about decided they don’t get it when Rebecca says, “I understand completely. Trust isn’t given; it’s earned.”

“Exactly. Thank you. And right now, I don’t trust any of you.” I glance around and when my eyes land on each one, they give me a nod. The only one I smile at is Gracie. She seems like a sweet soul. “Now, I appreciate y’all comin’, but if you don’t mind, I’m goin’ back to my cottage to spend a quiet evening with Aggie. Y’all can see yourselves out.” That’s it. I’ve said all I’m going to say, so I turn on my heel and head out the door. This time, nobody tries to stop me, and I understand that I’ve made my point. I’m pretty sure they get it.

I open the door and hear her ask instantly, “How’d it go?”

“They now understand that while I’ve accepted their apologies, I don’t trust them, and it will be a long time before I do.”

She nods, but her face is sad. “I understand that.”

“I only know one thing for sure.” As soon as I’ve settled beside her on the sofa, I wrap an arm around her, pull her toward me, and kiss the crown of her head. “I love you, and I’ll always love you. Unless you choose them over me. Then we’re gonna have a problem.”

“Not gonna happen. You’re mine and I’m yours. We’re an us. That’s all we need.”

I couldn’t agree more.

Our lunch got ruined, but our dinner is the best. We built a big open bonfire, and Tegan and Borden are dancing around it with hot dogs on long skewers, roasting them. Every time they get one roasted, they give it somebody, and we all eventually get one. We’re having a good time at the picnic tables, eating hot dogs, chips, potato salad, baked beans, coleslaw, and cookies. Our picnic is in full swing when I hear one of the women yell, “Oh my god, here they come!”

The little navy blue Chevy rolls to a stop right beside us and Bulldog gets out, then rounds the front and opens the door. They both head to the rear seat’s door, open it, and in a few seconds, they step back around the front. In Bulldog’s hand is the handle of the car seat, and a tiny, sleeping baby lies there in it, wrapped up head and ears. “Kid’s gonna die from heat stroke,” I hear Reboot say with a chuckle.

“Hey! Welcome home!” Patch calls out and hops up, hugging Tinsley and then Bulldog. “Hey, little guy! Glad you’re home,” he says, bending down to speak to the baby, who barely wiggles. “Lord, he’s a cutie. Y’all want a hot dog or something?”

“I do. I’m fuckin’ starvin’,” Tinsley says, then looks up at Bulldog. “Whoops,” she says and throws her hands up over her mouth.

“Hey, babe, that’s a self-imposed thing. I didn’t say anything,” the big guy says. He looks around at us with a grin. “Says she’s gonna start watching her language. I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“I can do it! I just need to, um… want to, I reckon,” she says with a shrug and a grin. “Yeah. I’ll take a hot dog. And some-a that there tater salad, and some baked beans, and―” Penny’s already on her feet and filling a plate for the new mommy, and poor Tinsley takes a seat and grabs that hot dog like she hasn’t had a bite of anything in two months.

All of the women are making googly eyes at the baby, all of them except Aggie. “You don’t like babies?” I ask quietly.

“I like ’em. Just not enough to have one.”

“So we’re not having one?” I ask, half joking.

“You’re not serious. You want a baby?”

That makes me laugh. “Nah. Just thought I’d ask. I’d really hate to think I had to start raising a kid at my age.”

“Yeah, I never thought I’d want one because I deal with kids all day. Besides, there’ll be plenty of kids out here at the farm, so that’s not really a concern. If I want to interact with one,” she says, pointing at the baby’s carrier, “I’m sure I can find one.”

“I figure we’re all going to get to do babysitting duties at some point, and not just for him. We’re going to have six kids out here by next weekend. That’ll be plenty.”

“I’ll say. I see myself doing tutoring sessions too. Gonna be Kid Central before long. But I love kids. That’ll be fine with me.”

“Maybe Matthew and Morgan could come out. And DaShawna.”

“The boys will have to prove that they can behave before I’d want them out here. Not sure how DaShawna would feel being the only girl other than Fiona. But we’ve sure got a bumper crop of boys on this farm.”

That’s when it hits me. All of these boys… We’re all responsible for being role models to help them grow up into respectful, hardworking men who treat their families right and are assets to their communities. It’s quite a burden but, honestly, one that I’ll gladly bear. For every one of these boys who turns out to be a fine man, I will have redeemed myself for some of my wrongdoings, and that’s worth every minute I spend with them.

I’m so lost in thought that I didn’t realize Aggie was talking to me. “I’m sorry, babe. I wasn’t paying attention.”

“I said, we’ll have a wedding next weekend! I’m so excited about that! So, what about Bulldog and Tinsley? Izzy and Ghost? Paddy and Natalie?”

“Um, I think Bulldog, Tinsley, Izzy, and Ghost have all talked about getting married at the same time. Like a double wedding. I’m not sure about Paddy and Natalie, but now that she’s here helping him raise the boys, that’ll probably happen pretty soon.” I stop for a minute before I say, “So you like weddings?”

“Oh, yeah! But I really don’t like the big, fancy ones. I like the smaller ones. More attention to detail, less worry about seeing how much they can show off. I think it’s important that it’s very personal to the couple. You know, incorporates things important to them, helps them express their individuality. Doesn’t have to be expensive. Just needs to be theirs.”

“That’s actually a really nice way to look at it. Have you ever thought about a wedding? I mean, I know you were married before, but―”

“Justice of the peace. My mama and daddy didn’t like him much, so we just got married at the courthouse. Wasn’t too long before I didn’t like him much either, so that was fine.”

“Yeah, so if you were to do it again…?”

She grins. “Know what I’ve always dreamed about? A winter wedding. I don’t know why. There’s just something about a white fur coat―fake, of course,” she says almost apologetically, “and white boots and a white dress in all that white snow. I mean, think about it. Wouldn’t that be gorgeous?”

“If’n I didn’t know better, I would think you was a white girl!” I say, laughing, and she playfully slaps my arm.

“No! Silly. But think about it. White stuff, and silver. Silver ornaments, a silver tree, silver jewelry, and maybe blue! A little bit of blue. In front of a fireplace. It would be so beautiful and romantic. Don’t you think so?”

“I think you’re right. I wonder… Where could you find a white fake fur coat? I mean, they’re not exactly growin’ on trees, ya know,” I ask with a grin.

“I reckon they prolly got ’em online at that big retailer. Prolly got ’em in all sizes too. I could check if you want,” she says, her eyes twinkling.

“Yeah, I think you should do that. I mean, you know, if there’s ever a time when you might need one. At least you’d be prepared and not have to―”

My words are cut short by a female voice yelling, “Oh, lord! Oh, lord! Oh, lord! Oh my god! OH MY GOD! Oh, y’all, looky here!” We spin to find Tinsley standing in the middle of the group, hopping from one foot to another, bouncing up and down, screaming, and she’s holding up…

Her left hand. On her ring finger is a huge honkin’ diamond. I’m talking a big one. At least a carat. Holy lord, he’s gonna be paying on that for the rest of his life. “Oh, Tins!” Izzy shrieks and hops up to hug her friend.

“He tol’ me he was gonna gimme a present for givin’ him a baby, but I never ’spected this! Oh, thank you, baby! We’s gettin’ married!” she crows and hugs Bulldog, who wraps his arms around her, lifts her off the floor, and spins her around and around, both of them laughing. “He’s makin’ a honest woman outta me! Wooo-hoooooo! Patrick, yore mama’s gettin’ married! You ain’t gonna be a bastard no more!” she yells, and everybody erupts into laughter. Leave it to Tinsley to say whatever comes to her mind.

And then my eyes cut toward Bear. He’s sitting over to the side, saying nothing, just watching. The sadness in his eyes is overwhelming, and I really think I’m probably the only one here who’s even noticed. As soon as Aggie jets off to congratulate Tinsley, I wander that direction and sit down two chairs from him, but he doesn’t acknowledge my presence, just continues to stare out over the group. Finally, I say, “Happy day for them.”

“Yep.”

When he doesn’t continue, I say, “You okay?”

“Yep.”

He doesn’t want to talk, but I’ve about had my fill. It’s time he talks to somebody―if not me, one of the other guys, but somebody . “How’s Sela?”

“She’s okay.”

“Just okay?”

“Mad as hell.”

“Why’s she mad?”

“Because it’s looking like she’s not going to get to go back out into the field.”

“Oh, fuck. Sorry. That’s bad. I know she loves her job.”

“Yeah. She loves her job. It’s the only damn thing in the world that she loves.” With that, he stands and turns toward the door. It occurs to me to follow him, but I decide that might be a bad idea. He’s hurt and upset. He doesn’t need somebody playing twenty questions with him right now.

A handshake for Bulldog and a hug for Tinsley later, I take Aggie’s hand and we wander back toward our cottage. Our cottage. I love the way that sounds. As soon as the door closes behind us, I head for my laptop, unplug it, and sit down on the sofa. “Whatcha doin’?” she asks when she comes back from the bathroom.

“Oh, just poking around.” I’ve brought up a website from the big national jewelry chain in Lexington, Joshua’s, and I’m paging down through the engagement rings. “Looking at pretty stuff.”

“What pretty stuff are you… Oh. Oh, that one’s nice,” she says and points.

“Two and a half carats. Yeah. That’s real nice. I’d have to take out a reverse mortgage on this cottage to afford that, and the cottage ain’t even mine. What about that one?” I ask and point to one that has a half-carat center stone.

“Yeah. That’s real pretty. This one is pretty too.” Aggie’s fingernail brushes the screen where a third of a carat center stone sits, surrounded by small diamonds. “I like the pavé diamonds around it.”

“You like them little bitty diamonds?”

“I like the way they make the middle one look. It’s all sparkly,” she says, flashing her pearly whites at me. “Like me.”

“You are sparkly, baby. You glitter. You shine bright like a diamond.”

“Aww, you’re a sweet guy. So am I getting one of these?”

“I’ve got a better idea. How ’bout we drive into Lexington one day and actually go look at some?”

“I like that idea. Could we spend the night? In a hotel? Maybe go out to dinner at some fancy restaurant?”

“I think that’s doable. Let’s pick a weekend and I’ll talk to Patch.”

“Can’t be next weekend. We’ve got a wedding to be here for.”

“True.” That’s settled, and I close the laptop. “So maybe I’ll make an honest woman outta you yet,” I say with a grin.

“Yeah, but ain’t gonna fix no bastards. Ain’t gonna be none-a them bastards around here comin’ from us.”

I laugh loudly. “Nope! Not happenin’!”

“Ya know, if we’re goin’ to Lexington, I think I want to go to a furniture store too.”

“Yeah? What kinda furniture you lookin’ for?”

Her grin is wicked. “A headboard with rungs I can wrap my fingers around.”

My cock jumps a little. “Oh, yeah?”

“Oh, yeah. Somethin’ to hold onto when my man sends me into orbit.”

“I think I can accommodate that,” I say and pull her toward me, then kiss her hard. When I pull back, I run a finger down the side of her face. “Why don’t you go put on your astronaut suit and get on the launch pad. Let’s see how fast I can make you blast off.”

“My astronaut suit that looks a lot like my birthday suit?” she asks, giggling.

“Yep. That’s the one. Go.” Without another word, she hops up and disappears into the bedroom. I look down at the front of my jeans. Yep.

The countdown has already commenced. I can barely wait for liftoff.