Epilogue: Kelsey

I’d never seen a more perfect view. The wheat beyond our yard swayed in the breeze, the sun rose high in the sky, and my two favorite boys stood beside the flower beds.

I walked toward Andrew as he spoke to our son in a gentle tone. He was pointing out the different flowers and bugs just as a butterfly landed on his arm. The giggle that sounded wasn’t something I’d ever tire of.

“How was little Nash’s nap?” I asked Andrew, as I wrapped my arm around his bare back. My ring sparkled under the sun’s rays. It was an Easterly family heirloom that I was honored to wear, especially after learning that Andrew’s mom and dad had set it aside for him.

“Good,” my husband said as he turned our boy to see me. “He drank an entire bottle and slept for about an hour.” Andrew blushed, and I knew it meant that Nash had slept on his chest instead of in his crib. Even at three months old, he had his dad completely wrapped around his finger. There was nothing my husband wouldn’t do for our baby.

And he was ours. There was no doubt in anyone’s mind. Caleb had never once contacted me, asking about the child he helped bring into this world, even though I sent him a birth announcement. Though there was a chance he never received it. He’d been found with drug paraphernalia in his team locker and had been let go by the Bears during their spring training. I wasn’t sure if they were going to bring him back or if he was out for good, but none of that mattered to me. Andrew was, and would always be, Nash’s father.

“How’s the office coming along? Is it set up the way you want it?”

By pure luck, Andrew and I had leased a spot right across from my favorite yarn store. The large space was perfect for my physical therapy clinic. The high school sports teams had already scheduled time for their players to come in when I opened. Andrew was going to help me get some of the local farms involved with their employees as well. It was the best of both worlds.

As a thoughtful surprise, Andrew had built me an office at our house, but I gently declined. I wasn’t keen on bringing work home, which was exactly what would happen. Instead, he turned the basement into a library, complete with comfy furniture for me to either read on or to test out if the things in the book I was enjoying were physically possible. Three of the walls were now floor-to-ceiling bookcases, while the fourth was taken over by my other favorite hobby, its centerpiece the quilting machine he not-so-secretly ordered that day I went shopping in town.

He also built a nursery in the new facility to keep Nash while I was working. I’d already started interviewing for the childcare position, someone to stay in the nursery when I was with clients. The space was so nice and fun-looking that his sisters said they’d be interested in using the employee’s services and splitting the cost. Especially Alex, since her bakery was just up the street.

“Almost. I need just a few things adjusted, but for the most part, we’re ready for the open house next week.”

Getting everything up and running as quickly as we did was a feat for everyone involved. Andrew’s family had opened their arms to me and were immediately on board to help when I mentioned I wanted to have my clinic open by the end of summer.

They moved even faster than I anticipated.

Nash’s chubby hands reached out for me, and I took him from a pouting Andrew as I settled our baby against my shoulder, rubbing his little back as we walked toward the house.

“So, when are you finally going to let me take you on a honeymoon?” he asked.

“The clinic was just finished,” I said with a laugh as I sat down on the living room floor and placed Nash on a soft mat for some tummy time. He wasn’t a big fan, but he didn’t cry like he did the first time.

“There will always be something, baby,” Andrew replied, as he gripped my ponytail and tilted my head back. Bending down, he kissed me senseless, like he always did, and for a moment, I wished we were alone.

“You’re right. Maybe when Nash hits six months?” I tried breastfeeding him, but Nash had trouble latching on. Even with some consults with a lactation specialist, we weren’t successful. I wasn’t disappointed, since I could still pump, but even if I couldn’t, Nash was healthy and happy, and watching Andrew feed our child was something I would always cherish.

But unless I stopped producing, my goal was to feed my little guy breastmilk until he was six months old.

“I think I can wait that long,” he whispered as he kneeled beside me, his hand trailing up one of my crossed legs. “But can you?” he teased.

“Andrew,” I moaned, my body coming alive under his touch.

A tiny squeal of excitement came from the floor, and I looked down to see Nash had latched his hand around one of his favorite toys.

“I swear he is the best thing I’ve ever done in my life,” I murmured, entranced by the baby’s enthusiasm for the toy in his tight grip. His strength was otherworldly, backed by the fact that my poor scalp felt it one too many times as he yanked my long hair.

“And finding you is mine. Because that gave me both of you,” he said against my neck before kissing me there, making me melt.

A couple of minutes passed, where we just enjoyed watching our son as he made silly sounds while gnawing on his toy, until I finally broke the comfortable silence between us. “Don’t forget your parents will be here around 4:00 p.m., so we can grab dinner with Rory, Talon, Franny, and Liam.” Franny was Rory’s childhood best friend and the three of us always had a great time together when we’d meet up for a girls’ night. Every once in a while, we invited our husbands to join us.

“I remember,” he assured.

“I think Liam is excited to talk to you about the rodeo again. Rory says he still can’t believe you’re Wyatt Renfield.” I giggled.

Andrew had his own personal fan club in Rory’s other best friend’s husband. I thought it was hilarious, but Andrew thought differently. Especially since he unofficially retired from the sport.

He said it was the easiest decision he ever made when we eloped earlier this year, but I had a feeling that retirement was only temporary and wouldn’t last long.

Andrew already had sponsors reaching out to take him on full-time since the Ashfield Report, a local paper, published an article about Andrew being the Bruce Wayne of the underground rodeo circuit. It was quickly picked up by nationwide papers about a month ago, and the calls and emails hadn’t stopped coming.

I had a feeling Andrew was considering changing his number again .

“Maybe we can fit in a quicky between leaving the house and getting to dinner,” Andrew suggested as he wiggled his eyebrows at me.

“You’re crazy,” I pointed out. “ Of course we can. Why do you think I have your parents coming at four? Dinner isn’t until six.”

“You devious woman. You just want me for my cock.”

Laughing, I handed Nash a second toy to play with. “I mean, it is magnificent.”

“Hmmm… I’ll make you pay for that later.”

“Yes, please do,” I said with a nod.

Andrew spun on his butt and laid down beside our son, pulling Nash’s attention away from his toys and onto him. The infant loved nothing more than being able to see Andrew. It was clear who the favorite was.

“This little man was made to be mine,” Andrew said as he rolled a ball back and forth, igniting squeals of delight from Nash.

“I think the same thing all the time,” I agreed wholeheartedly.

“And the best part… nothing could’ve made me understand more clearly what Dad meant when he told me blood didn’t matter, that he felt I was his the moment Mom introduced him to me. Because I feel it for myself. The fact that little Nash doesn’t have my DNA is completely insignificant to the amount of love I have for him. And his mom.”

My eyes teary, I smiled. “We love you too.”

And then I crawled over to kiss the man who had given me and our son his last name.

THE END

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