Page 93 of Hale
Together, we make sweet, frantic love.
She’s my wife—my sister—my everything.
Life may feel too short and too fragile…
I’ll be damned if I waste one second of it.
Rylie
Several months later…
“Ican get it,” I grumble, even though I worry about my arms giving out. My new doctor says I have nerve damage that may never heal back up. Dreams of cutting hair like Mom did were pushed aside as I had to discover my own strengths and abilities.
Hudson ignores me as he uses the oven mitts to pull out the giant turkey from the oven. He sets it on the stovetop and then closes the door. “Doesn’t look like Mom’s,” he muses aloud.
I swat at him. “It’s a new recipe.” I nudge him with my hip and he steps out of the way, but not before sticking his finger in the mashed potatoes. “Don’t you have work to do?”
He grins at me, wide and boyish. After all this time together, as a couple, it’s still hard to believe he’s mine. “Boyd says everyone deserves Thanksgiving off.”
I shake my head. “He did not say that.”
Hudson runs the books for Boyd Williams’ riverside resort. His cabins are top-of-the-line and have the best views in Jasper. He also lets us rent one of the cabins in a secluded section of his property for hardly anything. I may not know much about finance and accounting like my genius brother, but Boyd lets me help with marketing and website stuff. He’s been patient and so nice to take us under his wing.
“He said, and I quote, ‘Enjoy the day off, watch some football, eat some peeh-can pie, make a turd, and give yer wife some lovin’. But not in that order, son. Definitely not in that order.’”
I giggle because I can imagine Boyd saying just that. His belly is big, but his handlebar mustache is bigger. Funniest country bumpkin you’ll ever meet. Probably the richest one in Jasper, Arkansas too. His wife, Patty, should have earned a medal for putting up with him for thirty years. “That sounds like the Boyd I know.”
Hudson laughs as he roots around in the fridge, no doubt after the devilled eggs I made earlier. Memories of Mom cracking him with the towel for eating her dinner before it was ready have me smiling. I don’t fuss at him but instead make sure everything is ready to eat.
“You want to say the blessing?” I ask as I pull off my apron. The first Thanksgiving without our parents is hard, but Hudson promised me we’ll make new memories. Always making new memories. This is how we move forward.
He walks up behind me, resting his chin on my head, and palms my stomach. “Lord, thank you for giving us each other and this perfect life in Jasper. Tell Mom and Dad hi.”
I laugh and swat at his hand. “And?”
“Thank you for letting Rylie make me food all the time now, Lord. I’mextranice to her.”
“All you had to do was say please. I told you this when we were kids. You were just too stubborn back then,” I say with a playful huff.
We both chuckle.
“And what else?” I ask.
“Thank you, Lord, for blessing this food.”
“Amen,” I say primly.
He kisses the side of my neck. “Is my son hungry?”
As if woken up by his daddy, our son kicks at him.
“Always.” Turning, I slide my palms up Hudson’s firm chest and rest them on his shoulders. My stomach is round and large between us. Life is pretty perfect.
“Did you take your medicine?” he murmurs, his dark brows furrowed in concern.
Well, almost perfect.
My new doctor in Jasper has prescribed antidepressants that are safe during pregnancy since my old ones were not. I don’t like taking them, but I also don’t like how low and dark my mind can get. The medicine helps keep me on the straight and narrow. But Hudson is the one who heals me altogether.
