She nodded against me, then whispered, “You probably think I’m this fearless girl who always finds a way out. But I won’t pretend with you.” She paused, her breath catching. “I’m scared, Noah. I’m really scared. Because what I’ve done, it’ll catch up to me.”
“I know, baby,” I said, kissing her temple. “Me too.”
She searched my face for something. Maybe strength, maybe certainty.
Whatever she saw, it must’ve been enough.
“Couples who get scared together, stay together,” she said, a shaky smile tugging at her lips.
I cupped her face, brushing my thumb along her cheek and memorizing the shape of this moment.
No masks. No lies. No distance.
Just us.
28
MAYA
While Claire was knee-deep in exams, and with both her and Elia’s blessing, I took baby Dylan downtown to run a few errands. I wasn’t alone either. Sheryn was finally back in town after her honeymoon and was staying in Bozeman to help her mom through a rough patch.
“You know, D, I’ve never really been a baby person,” I said, eyeing him in the rearview mirror as he kicked his chubby little legs. “But you? You might actually be cuter than Toby.”
He let out a little giggle.
“You know who Toby is, right?” I added. “The pony?”
He let out a giggle, one of those belly-deep ones that made your heart melt sideways.
“Yeah, I know,” I said, grinning. “Big compliment.”
Sheryn sat beside me, her hair pulled into one of her casual, too-cute messy buns, looking like she’d never left. I glanced at her, curious.
“So, where’s yours?” I teased.
She barked a laugh. “Ha! You’d think, right? The way I used to baby that American Girl Bitty Baby like she was real?Back then, I thought motherhood would be all matching bows and bath time songs.”
I snorted. “That doll had more outfits than you.”
“She did!” Sheryn grinned. “But real babies? Different ball game. Nick and I talked about it, and we’re holding off for now. We want a little more us time before we dive in.”
“Huh,” I said, nodding like I totally got it. And I did.
Sheryn leaned over her shoulder, cooing, “Sorry, D! You’re making it real hard to stick to the plan, though.”
Dylan stayed unbothered.
Buffaloberry Hill was in full swing by the time I parked. The sun was out, kids were zigzagging along the sidewalk with ice cream cones that didn’t stand a chance, and a few folks were gathered outside the diner, sipping their coffees.
At Paul’s Hardware, Dylan happily pointed at tools as if he knew exactly what he needed. At fifteen months, he was still a little unsteady on his feet, so the stroller was pulling double duty, as transport and shopping cart supervisor.
“Well, would you look at that,” Paul said as he rounded the counter to greet us. “Where are Claire and Elia hiding?”
“Up to their eyeballs,” I said. “Ranch chores, veterinarian exams…you name it. I figured I’d chip in and take Dylan off their hands for a bit.”
Paul reached down and tickled Dylan’s cheek, earning himself a full gummy grin and a tiny string of drool for his efforts.
“Good to have you back, Sheryn,” he said, turning her way. “Nick was pacing like a rooster in a thunderstorm while you were gone.”
