Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27018 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27018 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
“You’re getting big, little one,” I murmur, my voice filled with love. She gurgles in response, flashing me a gummy smile that makes my chest tighten with an overwhelming sense of gratitude.
I rise and make my way toward Hunter, feeling the warmth of the sun on my skin, the soft grass under my feet. I come up behind him, my hands finding their way to his shoulders, my fingers pressing gently into the tense muscles of his neck.
“Catch anything yet?” I ask, my voice low and teasing.
He grunts, a wry smile tugging at his lips. “Just your attention, it seems.”
I laugh softly, leaning in to press a kiss to the side of his neck.
“That’s a good start,” I say, my voice dropping to a whisper.
His muscles relax under my touch, but there’s still a tension there—an alertness that never really leaves him, even in moments like this. “You know,” I begin, my hands working a little deeper into the knots in his shoulders, “I never thought I’d have this.”
He glances over his shoulder, his eyes meeting mine with an intensity that never fails to send a shiver down my spine.
“What’s that?” he asks, his voice low, rough.
“This,” I say, gesturing to the campsite, the boys’ laughter in the distance, the baby’s soft coos behind us. “All of it. A family. A life on this mountain. It feels like a dream sometimes. I wake up and have to pinch myself to make sure it’s real.”
Hunter’s eyes soften, his free hand reaching up to cover mine, pressing it against his chest. “It’s real, Lark,” he says, his voice filled with a quiet certainty. “We made it real.”
I lean into him, resting my cheek against his back, feeling the steady beat of his heart under my palm. “I came here living a nightmare,” I confess, my voice barely more than a whisper. “And then you stepped out of the woods like some kind of wild knight, and I was whisked away into a dream I never thought possible.”
He’s silent for a moment, his body still except for the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest. Then he clears his throat, his voice rougher than before.
“I heard something the other day,” he says, a hint of tension creeping back into his voice.
“What is it?” I ask, sensing the shift in his mood.
“Cyrus,” he says simply, the name a shadow between us.
My body tenses, the old fear threatening to resurface, but I force myself to stay calm. “What about him?”
“He’s dead,” Hunter says, his tone flat, almost detached. “Died in jail doing time unrelated to your kidnapping—another crime from years ago caught up to him. But he was old, feeble. It was just a matter of time.”
I don’t know how to respond. The news is unexpected, and yet, there’s no real shock. I close my eyes, feeling a mix of emotions I can’t quite name. Relief, maybe. Sadness, definitely. But not anger. That burned out a long time ago.
“I’m not sure what I feel,” I admit quietly.
Hunter’s jaw tightens, his hand clenching around the fishing rod. “He was hardly human,” he growls, his voice filled with a simmering rage that’s never quite gone away. “I’ve had dogs I’d pay more respect to.”
I let out a shaky breath, my fingers tightening on his shoulders. “It’s strange,” I say slowly. “But I don’t feel anger anymore. Just… sadness. Sadness that he was so broken that hurting others was the only way he knew how to live.”
Hunter turns to face me fully, his eyes blazing with a fierce protectiveness. “You’re too good, Lark,” he says, his voice rough. “Too good for a world that has people like him in it.”
I step closer, resting my hands on his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart under my palms. “The past is what makes us who we are,” I say softly. “Some of us are brave enough to overcome it, and others aren’t. If what I went through brought me here, to you and our family, then I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat.”
His eyes soften, and he sets the fishing pole aside, pulling me into his arms.
“I don’t deserve you,” he murmurs against my hair, his voice thick with emotion.
“Yes, you do,” I whisper back, my arms wrapping around him tightly. “More than anyone.”
We stand there for a long moment, holding each other, the river flowing gently behind us, the boys’ laughter echoing through the trees. It’s a moment filled with the kind of peace I never thought I’d find—a peace that’s wild, untamed, and entirely ours.
“I hope the kids stay,” I say after a while, my voice filled with a wistful longing. “I hope they grow up here and never want to leave.”
Hunter pulls back slightly, looking down at me with a thoughtful expression. “They will,” he says with a confidence that’s as solid as the mountain itself. “I’ll give them a piece of the business when they’re ready.”