Page 30 of Wanting a Family Man

“I’ll squish her too hard,” she choked out, even as she gathered up her sister’s warm, wiggly daughter and immediately got a wet palm in the face for her trouble.

Storm grabbed her hair and pushed her bare feet into Cloe’s thighs, determined to stretch and reach in all directions.

“Got her? I’ll be right back.” Trystan’s hands dropped from grazing hers, and he left her with this lively ball of energy.

He was right. Cloe’s sobs turned to jagged breaths of half laughter as she folded her arms around Storm and let her bounce and grab at her T-shirt and wobble in her effort to stand.

Storm wore a fresh cotton onesie with a pair of pink leggings that ended at her knees. She scrubbed her mouth against her own wet fist, babbling, “Abbabbba.”

“Here.” Trystan came back with a damp cloth and offered it.

She let him take Storm while she pressed the cool, wet flannel to her eyes, then wiped the salt tracks from her cheeks all the way into her throat. She exhaled the last of her anguish.

“You know what else is a great mood elevator?” Trystan said. “A walk outside. What do you say? Em said you can wear her hiking boots if they fit.”

“Actually, there’s a pair of Tiff’s that are probably close enough.” She dug back into the first box she’d opened, the one with a white puff-pocket jacket and a Raven’s Cove sweatshirt with a matching knitted hat.

The boots were a size too big, but Trystan said, “Sarah’s coming after lunch to train you on theStorm Ridge. We won’t go far.”

That was good, because Cloe hadn’t done any long walks lately.

She held Storm as they stood before the closed lid of the chest freezer. Trystan used it as a table while he emptied a contraption that looked like a cross between a backpack and a baby car seat.

Storm let out a long, demanding noise and leaned toward him, releasing pathetic-sounding, tearless sobs when he didn’t take her.

“I know you want to go for a walk, you little nutburger. We have to get it ready. You know that.”

Storm looked into Cloe’s eyes, her expression saying,See how mean he is to me?Which made her chuckle and hug her closer.

“Have you ever camped overnight with her?” Cloe secured Storm on her hip and tried to entice her with the teething toy Trystan handed her.

“Em and I have talked about it. We’ve been filming hacks for taking babies on day hikes, but at some point, intrepid becomes stupid. We want to stay on this side of the line.”

She chuckled past her moment of envy that Emma filmed with him. “How do you mean? That it would be dangerous?”

“It could be, yeah. I can already picture myself saying to the camera, ‘I didn’t get any sleep last night because this one was up all night, trying to crawl out of the shelter.’ Who watches her while I build it? I can’t wear her and swing an ax. I can forage and go hungry, if necessary, but she can’t. Even when Em helps carry supplies, it’s a lot of weight between us because she’s getting so heavy.”

Storm definitely took up the lion’s share of the baby backpack. Trystan seemed to have a system as he refilled the pockets, tucking away diapers, wipes, a warm change of clothes, a sippy cup, and a zip-locking bag of dry cereal.

“Em makes these up when she has time,” he said as he added a refillable baby food pouch from the freezer, then ran upstairs for a couple of bananas.

Cloe was borrowing Emma’s backpack. Trystan had her empty it and repack it so she would know what was in it and where. She felt like she was doing her first parachute jump as she carefully stowed the shiny survival blanket, the first aid kit, a fire starter kit, and a surprisingly light tool that looked like it was issued by the Swiss Army. Then went a headlamp, a whistle, and a map that was wearing thin at its fold marks.

“Let me show you where we’re going so you can find your way back if something happens to me.”

“Nothing’s going to happen to you, is it?” she asked with alarm. If he only knew how many times she had imagined going on expedition with him.

“I’m going to try really hard for nothing to happen,” he said, mouth twitching. “But let’s plan for anything that could.”

He showed her the path on the map, which mostly followed the coastline with a small climb into the woods, then down to an oblong-shaped point.

While she did her best to memorize a few landmarks, he filled two water bottles. He handed one to her, along with a bag of homemade trail mix, four pouches of dried soup, and a can of bear spray.

“Don’t get it in your eyes,” he warned when he explained how to use it. “Definitely don’t get it in Storm’s eyes.”

“I see how this works, you know.” She was only half joking. “You’re going to push me in front of the bear because you know you can outrun me.”

“At least I’m giving you a fighting chance,” he said, straight-faced. “Maybe add one of your sister’s sweatshirts, in case the weather changes or we get stuck out there overnight.”

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