Page 108 of Thaw My Heart

Does he mean the baby? A mistake?

Charlie waves a hand. “Look, we all know she made a mistake. You admitted that yourself,” he gestures to Alaska.

Alaska’s head hangs low, eyes dropping to her belly.

“But you two would make quite the pair,” he glances at the two of us. “Ranch Owner and Vet. You couldn’t ask for someone better by your side. This whole mess could be rectified if you⁠—”

“Dad, stop!” Alaska slams her fist down, shaking the table. I’ve never seen her look so angry. “My life is not a mess. My choice is not a mistake.” Charlie looks as if she’s slapped him in the face. “Kit is with someone else. He’s happy. He didn’t want me then, and he doesn’t want me now. Can you please just let it go?”

My heart sinks at her words.

Charlie’s face falls, glancing at her and me. “I’m sorry, Oka. I—I’m just trying to help.” Oka is Alaska’s nickname, which means “water” in her language. Something I learned years ago. A nickname given because of her blue eyes. “I know how you felt about him and… you can’t do this all by yourself.”

“Yes. I can,” Alaska says firmly.

I smile at her, feeling the conviction of her words—her strength. Out of all the women I know, she’s the most capable at raising this child by herself. It won’t be easy, but I believe in her.

They switch the conversation to their native language, clearly having some kind of family disagreement. I recognize a few words, but mostly it just sounds like beautiful Choctaw gibberish, rolling off their tongues with ease.

Alaska storms out, and I awkwardly apologize to Charlie and Fern, excusing myself to follow her outside.

I find her sitting on the porch swing with fury in her eyes and clenched fists. Swinging with quick, aggravated thrusts. Whatever they were talking about must not have been good.

“Can I join you?”

She glances at me, dropping her gaze to the ground. “You really don’t have to.”

Walking away might be the easy choice, but there were too many things said in that room that I need to clear up.

“Of course, I do.” I plop down in a chair across from the swing, breathing in the fresh air. Refreshing after such an intense dinner. Heavy snow falls from the sky, covering the farm in a thick blanket.

“I’m so sorry,” she murmurs in the dark. “My dad said a lot of things that he shouldn’t have.”

“You don’t need to apologize.” Charlie had meant well with his words—even though they were wrong—but he only said those things because he cares about his daughter.

I can’t fault him for that.

“He struggles with reality sometimes… His Alzheimer’s is getting worse.” She lets out a breath, staring into the darkness. “Some mornings, he wakes up and doesn’t recognize us.” Her eyes drop to her hands. “He’s worried that when he leaves… ” Her words trail off.

My gut clenches at what she’s trying to say.

“When he can no longer remember my mom or me, that I’ll be all alone, with no one to care for me. Which is so far from the truth, but⁠—”

“But he wants to do everything he can while he has time,” I finish. And that I understand completely.

Her eyes snap to mine, and she nods. “He keeps holding on to the past like it will change things… like it will fix things. But it won’t.”

A beat of silence fills the space between us.

“Are you scared?” I ask, glancing at her stomach. It’s a question I should’ve asked weeks ago.

“Of course, I am.” Her palm brushes against the tiny bulge. “However, my dad was right about one thing… this was a mistake… at least at first. This was a product of my first and only one-night stand,” she laughs, trying to find the humor in it. “I was hurting and looking for—” she sucks in a breath. “Well, I’m not too sure anymore. But I didn’t expect this.”

My eyes fall to my boots. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not,” she smiles. “Maybe this didn’t work out how I planned, or how my family planned, but… I can’t wait to meet her.”

“Her?” I smile back.