Page 109 of Silver Hunter

The waterworks came down my cheeks, and I couldn’t stop them.

“It’s a girl?” I held her against my chest, cooing until she settled. She had Hunter’s nose and dark head of curly hair. “Hi, baby girl.”

She opened her tiny eyes and pressed her cheek to my skin, settling in my hold. She definitely had his eyes. The tiny blue gems sparkled. A soft smile spread over her face. Hunter wrapped his arm around me as she pressed her cheek to my skin and closed her eyes.

“Oh, my God. I love her so much.” I looked up at Hunter. “And I love you both.” He kissed me. "You were amazing. What are we gonna name her?”

“I don’t know. She doesn’t look like a Lorelei.”

“We can think about it. Abuela should be here soon.”

Abuela, along with two of her daughters and a guide who stayed on the ground floor, showed up fifteen minutes later. Hunter cut the cord. Abuela cleared the placenta and didn’t leave until our daughter latched onto my breast. She suckled, making cooing noises. Hunter sneakily recorded the beautiful moment, and my heart was full for the first time.

My clock didn’t run out, and my Hunter made all my dreams come true.

HIS EPILOGUE

Grace held Geneviève in her arms. The moment we called her our little Genie, “Lorelei” was out the window. But we saved the name for our second one, growing in Grace’s belly. Our daughter was suckling on Grace’s breast, making the cutest swallowing sounds, and I couldn’t pull my eyes away. She was beautiful, with a head full of curly hair and bright blue eyes. Grace had told me they were beautiful, but not this beautiful. Genie’s eyes sparkled each time she laughed or giggled. She started walking on her first birthday. Strike that: she startedrunningon her first birthday, and keeping up with her around the eco-house was a challenge.

Grace had the maternal instinct of ten. We hadn’t planned to stay in Costa Rica for so long, but there was something special about raising our kids out here. We flew to Montana for our annual family Christmas, and joined the Silver barbecue in July at my aunt and uncle’s, Wilma and Fred’s. Emma’s parents were the best hosts. But returning to our home out here always felt special, and there was nothing better than watching Grace thrive.

The sound of paws on leaves drew my attention to the river’s edge, where Kali showed herself down the path.

“Hey, girl,” I called out. “Where’s Koko?”

The cub pounced from behind her mother at the mention and galloped toward me. Young sprinting cubs were as cute as suckling babies, except Koko had nearly caught up to her mother’s size. She nudged her head into my arm, grazing her face.

“You’re growing up fast. You want a treat?”

Koko sat like a dog, patiently waiting. My training had been going well. I removed the chicken from the cooler, and she gently grasped the bird and pulled it from my hand, walking away to eat.

“Koko,” Genie squealed.

We had originally named the cub Kona, but the day Genie started babbling “Koko,” it stuck.

“Koko’s eating breakfast.” Grace lowered our daughter to the blanket’s edge. Genie sat in position, grinning from ear to ear, waiting for Koko to finish and play. Babies, cougar cubs, and gorgeous Queens were my life now, and I couldn’t have been happier.

“Hunter,” Grace whispered.

“Yeah?”

“Kali’s staring at me.”

I turned back to Grace. “The same way she did yesterday?”

“No, differently.”

Kali had been trying to win over Grace for years.

“It’s not different.”

“Then why is she doing that?”

The cat rolled onto her back, paws up, stretching over the grass.

“She wants you to trust her.”

“She’s a cougar.”

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