Page 35 of Finding Limits

“This is good to hear. It’s about time you focused on somethin’ other than this place.” He slaps my arm.

“I feel outta my depth. Way outta it,” I admit, shaking my head at him. I spent most of last night watching Everleigh sleeping. Before that, we spent the whole night just kissin’ on the couch. It felt like the most intimate thing I’d ever done. I can feel myself getting swept away in all the goodness she expels, and I can’t lose sight of all the real-life things we have to face.

“It’s scary, but it’ll be worth it,” Garrett assures me. “You need this, Mitch. For years you’ve been tellin’ me and my brothers to trust our instincts and follow our hearts, now's the time to be takin’ your own advice.” He grips my shoulder and smiles.

“She’s gettin’ better every day and as beautiful as it is to watch, I got no experience in how to handle these kindsa things. I’ve never had a woman of my own. I don't wanna let her down,” I admit, hating how helpless I feel.

“Mitch, you ain’t gonna let her down, you're the most reliable guy I’ve ever met. You managed to raise half-decent men outta us three, so you can do anythin’ ya put your mind to. Any woman who’s loved by you is a lucky one.”

We both turn our heads when the stable door slams and when it rebounds off the hinge and opens back up again, it’s Hunter we see storming across the yard toward the bunkhouse.

“What the hell was that all about?” Garrett frowns as he watches him disappear inside and slam another door behind him.

“I don’t know, but I’m findin’ out.” I quickly march across the yard to go after him and when I fling open the door and see Hunter pulling his holdall from under his bunk, I stand back and watch in confusion.

“Plannin’ on goin’ somewhere?” I ask, folding my arms and keeping calm.

“Looks that way, don’t it?” He keeps his eyes focused on the clothes that he’s packing.

“What’s gotten into you, boy?” I step closer and when he turns to face me I see the pure, aggravated rage on his face.

“I came here wanting to impress you. I wanted to prove that I can do this.”

“And ya have. Everyone out there is singin’ ya praises,” I point out, still confused as to what all this is about.

“I thought you’d be the one teachin’ me. I thought…” He silences himself then shakes his head and continues to stuff all his possessions in his bag.

“What are ya talkin’ about, kid? Look, I don’t know what's got ya so triggered but?—”

“I’m wondering if my mother was one of those lucky girls who got to be loved by you?” He stops what he’s doing and stares at me blankly.

“You're what, now?” I stare hard, trying to understand what I’m hearin’.

“Did she mean anything to you?” He stands a little taller and steps toward me. “Do you even remember her name?” The smirk on his face looks as if it comes from disgust.

“Hunter, I don’t even know who the hell you're talkin’ about.” Now I’m the one starting to get mad because nothing this boy is saying is making any sense.

“I’m talking about the woman who you knocked up twenty-five years ago.” He pulls a piece of paper out from his bedside drawer and shoves it into my chest. Watching me with narrow eyes as I open it up. It's a birth certificate. A birth certificate that has my name written beside the word ‘Father’.

“Hunter… I…” I read it over again to be sure.

“Were you the reason she put me up for adoption?” he asks. “Were you not ready to settle down and be a man, then?”

“Hunter… I had no idea about this.” I study the mother’s name, trying to recall her. I’m ashamed to say over the years there's been more than a few women who have encountered the Mitch Hudson charm, but I’ve always been careful, and never have I heard from any of ‘em that I’d become a father.

“You’re trying to tell me you didn't know about this?” Hunter laughs as he snatches it back off me.

“That’s exactly what I’m tellin’ ya, son.” I grit my teeth together because this is getting more and more confusing by the second.

“Don’t fuckin’ call me that!” He points his finger at me warningly, and seeing that his eyes are full of tears is the only thing that holds me back from teaching him a lesson on it.

“You can’t just put a random name on a birth certificate, I looked into it. If the parents of the kid ain’t married the father either has to be there or sign some consent form,” he informs me, looking unconvinced by my defense.

“Well, I can assure you that I didn’t sign or agree to anythin’. You must have the wrong Mitch Hudson.” I shake my head.

“I don’t think so.” He delves back into the drawer and pulls out a photo. It’s old and a little worn, but it’s undeniably me, and the girl I have my arm wrapped around, I do happen to remember.

“That’s Naomi Hollins?” My head starts spinning. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen her face.

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