“You look so good as a papa.” I couldn’t have asked for a better husband. And a man who steps up to father not one, but two, children who aren’t his? And to rescue an abuseddog, too? I don’t think my heart can hold any more love for him without bursting and spilling over. Fate meant for this man to be their papa, and I’m glad that it chose me to be their momma alongside him.
Warren’s free hand rests at my waist, guiding me and Emmaline into the house where we were taken from mere hours before. “How you feeling? Are you okay being in here?” he asks worriedly when my feet slow. “I’ll tear it all down and rebuild if you want me to.”
He’d do it without any hesitation, too. And that makes me love him all the more.
“No, don’t do that.” I study the rooms and test my feelings. “It feels the same, yet different.” The blanket I was knitting for Dove lies neatly folded over the sofa, and there’s no sign of the knitting needles and trimmings. To look at it, one would think we were coming back after a visit to town with the house just as we left it.
I don’t want him to destroy the house where he taught me how to fall in love and to trust him with my heart and body. This is our house, and Montgomery can’t take it from us.
“I don’t want you to tear it down. There are so many memories here, more than just what happened today.” If anything, I want him to destroy the cabin in the woods.
Warren’s shoulders relax. His lips brush over my forehead, and when our eyes catch, there’s an unspoken agreement that we won’t speak about things while the children are awake. Especially Sullivan. All our son needs to know is that he’s warm and loved and safe now.
With one step after the other, I move forward, reclaiming this house as mine. It’s easier than I thought. Maybe because Emmaline is safe in my arms, and Warren and Patches are both behind and beside me.
Or maybe because I know there’s no chance of Montgomery barging in ever again. I overheard Cornelius telling Warren on the way back that the body would fill his pigs’ bellies over the next few days, and whatever bones remained afterward would be crushed and scattered with the next planting of the crops.
I won’t be eating any of them.
After everyone undergoes a quick bath,I nurse Emmaline while Sullivan has some broth for his fever. The poor boy is so exhausted that he falls asleep halfway through finishing his bowl, but at least he has something in his stomach. I hope tonight will be the best sleep he’s ever had.
“I’ve got him,” Warren says, stepping over a watchful Patches to gently lift Sullivan’s limp form. “Should I put him in our bed?”
“Yes.” My heart softly squeezes at the sight of the three of them. “Until you can make a bed for him.”
Patches whines and lurches toward the hallway as Warren leaves. “Go on,” I encourage, petting his soft ears when his worried eyes cut back to me. “We’ll all be there together in a little bit.”
The dog licks my hand as if to beg his leave, then trots off after them. When Warren comes back alone, he eases down beside me on the sofa.
“Patches wanted to stay with him?”
He nods, leaving no space between us as he leans in closer. “Curled up right beside him and tucked his head on top of his back. Sullivan didn’t even move an inch when Ilaid him down. Hopefully a full belly, restful sleep, and a peaceful home will help cure whatever ails him.”
His split knuckles are more noticeable as he beckons to Emmaline. Instead of her usual excitement to see him, though, she’s subdued. “Come here, Little Bit. Come see Papa,” he croons as he settles her onto his chest. Concern fills his face as he checks her over. “Her eyes...I’ve never seen them like this. So sad and without their sparkle. Do you think she’s thinking about any of it right now?”
“I hope not.” I catch her small hand and rub the back of it. “I hope none of us remember any part of today. That it all becomes just a distant memory or like a dream.”
“So do I.” Silence falls for a moment, then he cups her small head and kisses her hair. “I know it was a scary day, Little Bit. But everything’s all right now because Papa’s here to keep you safe. No more bad man taking you and Momma away from me. You can sleep now. Momma and Papa love you and will always take care of you.”
He opens an arm, and I accept his invitation to snuggle with them as he begins to hum. It’s Emmaline’s favorite lullaby. Which by his own confession isn’t a lullaby at all, but if it brings her comfort, it brings me comfort, too. She fights her sleep, drifting off but then jerking awake and clenching her papa’s shirt in her chubby fists. Warren never stops humming, not until her small body fully relaxes into slumber.
I almost follow her, but a warm hand cupping the back of my neck stirs me to full consciousness. “I’m gonna go put her down, then I want to hold you,” he says quietly with a probing look.
“Okay,” I whisper back, kissing Emmaline before he leaves with her. With a yawn, I move to the rocking chair. Something on the mantel stops me, though.
The picture of me, Warren, and Emmaline.
It’s a beautiful image of the three of us, held so perfectly within the frame that Warren made for me. How could something so innocent lead to such evil? I trace our faces and stare at the image until my eyes burn with the need to blink.
Two arms wrap around me. “You all right?”
“Our picture,” I finally answer, rubbing the pointed corner of the frame. “That’s how he found me. How he learned about Emmaline. All because the photographer had our picture on display, and he saw it.” I turn in his arms, and his expression takes me aback. Horror, anger, fear…each emotion flickers past in the span of mere seconds.
“Do you want me to get rid of it?”
“The picture or the photographer?” I ask with a dash of morbid humor. First Montgomery, then the house, and now this?
“Either. Both.” He shrugs. “Whatever you want me to do.”
