Page 132 of Mountain Grump

---

That’s what every kid deserves.

That’s the bare fucking minimum.

And Tilda…

She deserves that too.

She deserves that now.

Tilda deserves world burning.

Tilda.

My wife.

I turn back toward the cabin.

One way or another, I’ll be the man she deserves.

I stride forward. Out of the woods.

And I find her.

Standing in the bucket of cold water.

Standing.

Not sitting on the stump with her feet in the bucket.

Standing. On the very feet that are paining her.

She didn’t move the bucket.

Didn’t wait for me to come back and help her.

She just got up, walked over, and stood in the fucking bucket.

There’s dirt on her pretty yellow skirt.

There’s a tiny twig stuck to the sleeve of her flannel.

And she looks… uncertain.

She looks like she’s doubting herself.

And I can’t take another second of it.

I close the distance between us.

“Ethan—”

I barely slow as I scoop her up.

She feels right in my arms.

She feels fucking perfect as I carry her bridal style through the open front door of the cabin.

And she looks likeminewhen I drop her onto the mattress.

---