Mara
Three Months Later—The Community Lands
Igive my father a nod as he hauls the last box off the bare floor. When I bend for the other one, his head snaps around and he roars at me, loud enough to rattle the empty window in its new frame.
“I’m three months, Dad.” I straighten up and spread my hand over the small swell under my dress, barely there yet. “I’m just starting to show. A box isn’t going to break me.”
He doesn’t bother with words. He just stares me down, the same hard amber look I’ve gotten every day, while one of my brothers slips in and lifts the box clean out of my reach. Dayo gives me a sheepish look over the top of it, sorry but not about to cross the man who made us both, before he carries it out the door. My father’s been like this for three months, hovering at my elbow, sniffing my food, listening at my door.
He stops in the doorway with the box on his shoulder and lifts his nose to the air. Whatever he catches there pulls his mouth into a flat line. “That dragon you’ve been waiting on is here.”
“Oh.” I cross to where we slept, stripped to the bare mattress now, the quilts and pillows already out in the wagon. I pull the cabin keys off the nightstand, close my fist around them, and head down the stairs.
Ezra’s waiting at the bottom of the porch steps, still as standing water, his hands folded in front of him. When I step into the doorway he drops his head to me, formal. I dip mine right back.
“It’s yours now.” I hold the key out flat on my hand.
He reaches for it. Right then my father comes down the steps behind me with a box on each shoulder, both my brothers on his heels. Ezra’s hand stalls, and he turns to watch them load the wagon. I watch him watch them.
“They’re aggressive,” he says under his breath, eyeing the three of them. They can hear him. “Real intense.”
“You’re the same way about the women in your clan, I’d bet.” I can’t help the grin.
He shrugs, sheepish. “Not this damn intense.”
A giggle gets loose out of me, and my hand finds my belly. His gaze drops to the swell of it, the careful sliding off his face, and he smiles.
“Thank you. For letting me take it over.” He glances back at the cabin. “I think I’m gonna need the room eventually.”
“Anything I can help with?”
“Nah.” He looks off toward the wagon. “Nothing big. Just clan stuff.”
“Oh.”
His face goes gentle. “Is Aaron ever coming back?”
I open my mouth to give him a shrug, the only answer I’ve got for anybody these days. Then my ears swivel toward a sound that isn’t anywhere in this yard, and his voice slides into me, warm and close as a mouth against my ear.
I’m coming back to you, baby. Six months.
I give Ezra a wobbly smile.
“You alright?” he asks.
“Yeah.” I drag the word up from somewhere. “Just need some water.”
“Oh.” He’s already moving for the door. “I’ll grab you some.”
He disappears inside. I lower myself into one of the porch chairs. “I miss you, Aaron.”
I miss you more.
I roll my eyes up at the porch beams.
How are you feeling?
“Lonely.” My father’s shadow falls across the porch.
