“Eat a little, darlin’.”
Mason sits on my other side and slides a thick slice of buttered bread onto my plate. “You need your strength.”
My throat tightens. “You both keep saying that.”
“Because it’s true,” Mason says.
Brookes reaches beneath the table and rests his hand on my thigh. “And because taking care of you is the only thing keeping us from walking out to the road and yelling at the dust cloud your mother left behind.”
A laugh breaks out of me before I can stop it. It’s watery and shaky, but it’s real.
Mason’s eyes warm. “There she is.”
I pick up my spoon and take a bite. Warmth spreads through me, little by little. The stew is full of beef, potatoes, carrots, and herbs; real comforting ranch food, meant to fill empty stomachs and warm hearts. For a few minutes, we eat quietly, then Brookes reaches over and rests his hand on my thigh.
“You were incredible out there, Janey. Standing up to them like that… I know how hard that was for you.”
I stare down at my bowl. “I was terrified.”
“I know,” he says.
Mason sets his spoon down. “You stood there and told the truth even though it cost you. That’s courage, Janey.”
My eyes sting again. “I don’t feel courageous.”
“You looked it,” Brookes says softly. “You looked like a woman choosing her life.”
A woman choosing her life.
No longer a daughter asking permission, or a frightened girl waiting to be told she’s done right or wrong.
A woman.
A mother in waiting.
Loved by two men who had stood beside me and never once tried to speak over me.
“I meant every word,” I whisper, staring down at my bowl. “I’m tired of hiding. Tired of being scared all the time. Tired of loving you both like it’s shameful.”
Mason’s jaw tightens. “There is nothing shameful about this.”
“I know that now.” I lift my gaze to his. “But part of me didn’t until I heard myself say it to her.”
Brookes’s hand stills on my leg. “And now?”
I look at both of them. Mason is strong and fierce, his dark eyes watching me like he’d hold up the roof to keep me safe. Brookes is all rough tenderness and quiet devotion, his hand resting on me, in a way that’s warm and anchoring.
“Now I know exactly where I belong.”
“All of you, Janey. The brave parts. The scared parts. The parts that still worry about what your mom thinks. The parts that want to forgive her and the parts that are angry. We love every single piece, Janey. And we’re not going anywhere.”
Brookes nods, his thumb stroking slow circles on my leg. “You’re ours, darlin’. You’re ours through the hard days. Through the stares and the gossip and whatever else comes our way. We’re claiming you, and we’ll protect you. And that baby you’re carrying? We’re going to love that child with everything we have.”
Tears prick my eyes again, but this time they feel different. Cleansing.
“I love you both,” I whisper. “So much it scares me sometimes.”
Mason leans in and kisses me softly, then rests his forehead against mine. “Good. Because we’re never letting you go.”
