Page 11 of The Mountain Man's Valentine Baby

It’s why I insisted she stay for pie. I knew if I could get her to hang around long enough that the roads would get too bad for her to leave.

It was a sneaky move. But she was planning on giving me the best news of my life then hightailing it out of here like a scared baby deer. No, I couldn’t let that happen. She has to stay so we can talk this through, so she can know that I’m in this for the long haul.

I check through the cabin, making sure everything is prepped for the snowstorm of the century that’s expected to hit this weekend. When I’m certain my generator is in good condition, I finally crawl into bed behind Thea.

Pressing a soft kiss to her neck, my body relaxes. This is the perfect end to the day, with sweet Thea in my arms. I have to find a way to convince her to marry me. She knows we’re soulmates. I saw the flicker of longing in her expression when I told her that. I have to be patient now.

Turning on my phone, I start searching for how to be a good husband and father. I’ve never had a family of my own. I was older by the time Emma May fostered me and her husband had been long gone.

This is too important to mess up. I need to know what sets good fathers and husbands apart from bad ones. Because I plan to do right by my soon-to-be wife and kids. They’ll always have someone in their corner, a man who loves and supports them. I’ll be their loudest cheerleader and their biggest champion. They’ll always know how proud I am of them.

One article mentions celebrations and holidays and how important it is for men to be present for those. I think about Valentine’s Day. I’ve never cared much about the day myself. But it’s the perfect opportunity to show Thea how we could build a life together. If I’m really lucky, she’ll see how crazy I am for her, and she’ll agree to marry me soon.

I continue reading all night long as the howling wind grows louder. Finally, about dawn, I crawl from bed and call Ma. All of this reading about family stuff has given me a new appreciation for what she did for me and so many other foster kids.

She answers cheerfully on the first ring. She’s probably been up for hours already, puttering around her house. Later, if there’s still electricity, she’ll go down and open up her grocery store.

“How are you holding up in this weather?” I ask quietly, glancing out my bedroom windows. I’m pleased to see the high snow drifts and the snow flurries that are still floating in the air. The wall of white is buying me precious time with my girl.

“Same old achy knees,” she says, and I hear the clink of a spoon against ceramic. I can picture her sitting down at the faded kitchen table with her little teacup while her newest adopted cat purrs happily at her feet. “Now, tell an old lady what you want for your birthday.”

“You know me. I don’t want anything,” I answer easily. Having a Valentine’s Day birthday is kind of nice. Most people forget about it and leave me alone. Not Ma though. She’s never once forgotten mine. Not since she met me all those years ago when I was a scared kid alone in the hospital.

She sighs in exasperation, the way she does every year. “You have to want something.”

I turn from the windows to look at my girl, safe and warm in my bed. I swear I can see that pregnancy glow they talk about online. She looks ethereal, like an angel who had the misfortune to get tangled up with a lumberjack. “I already got my gift.”

“Oh,” she makes a pleased hum. “The little app thingy on the phone said that the kitchen torch wouldn’t be there for two more days. That one is the latest model. The reviews said it was perfect for caramelizing sugar or charring a steak.”

I brush a lock of blonde hair from Thea’s face, feeling the same surge of tenderness that I did the moment I met her. “The gift was more than I could ever ask for.”

When I end the call, I can’t help thinking about my own kid. One day, I’ll talk to him or her on the phone. Maybe I’ll give her advice about investing in index funds or fuss at him about which backroads to take to avoid the speed traps. It hits me then that I’ve talked about my baby, but I haven’t actually talked to him or her yet.

Kneeling down by Thea’s side of the bed, I pop open the last couple of buttons on her shirt. I put my hand on her round stomach, envisioning our tiny baby safe and cocooned inside of Thea’s beautiful body. “Hi, it’s Dad. You haven’t met me yet, but I want you to know I’m going to take care of you your whole life. Anything you need, you can always come to me. Promise.”

Chapter8

Thea

The soft rumble of Jasper’s voice calls me from sleep. I close my eyes and try to stay in the dream where I’m in his bedroom, cozy and cared for. In the dream, he’s putting his massive hand on my bare stomach.

When he speaks, my heart stutters. “Hi, it’s Dad. You haven’t met me yet, but I want you to know I’m going to take care of you your whole life. Anything you need, you can always come to me. Promise.”

That’s when the events of the last few days come back to me. It really is Jasper, not another one of my desperate dreams where he’s so close yet out of reach.

I open my eyes to see him staring down at my stomach with a look of pure adoration on his face. His expression is filled with so much tenderness that it makes my heart ache. I don’t think anyone has ever cared about me as much as he cares about this tiny baby I’m carrying. His baby.

I’m carrying the hot mountain man’s baby. It still seems crazy to me that I went from being a virgin to being pregnant in less than two months.

Reaching out, I cup his face in my hand, feeling his thick beard tickle my palm. “Our baby is lucky to have you.”

Hope flickers across his expression. “Do we know yet if we’re having a son or a daughter?”

“We won’t know for a few more weeks,” I explain. After almost a week of keeping this news to myself, it’s kind of nice to talk to someone else about it. “I think around thirteen weeks the ultrasound will be able to tell us for sure. Why? Are you hoping for a boy or a girl?”

He makes a soft humming sound, leaning into my hand. “I think I’d like six of each.”

I chuckle, surprised by his unexpected answer. “Then you’d better find yourself a good broodmare.”

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