“A necessary task,” Saint says. “Nothing more.”
“Nothing more, he says.” Tex is practically vibrating. “Jessie, this guy not only volunteers for every single feeding, but he knits them tiny sweaters.Matchingtiny sweaters. With their names embroidered on the back.”
“They get cold,” Saint says, still not looking up from his plate. “It’s a practical solution.”
“Practical! You named them Aristotle, Plato, and Confucius! You sing to them while they eat!”
“Music aids digestion. There are studies.”
“What do you sing?” I ask, genuinely curious.
Saint finally looks up, meeting my eyes with perfect dignity. “Johnny Cash. They have refined taste.”
Jane catches my eye across the table and grins.See what I mean?her expression says.Lovable idiots.
Heat blooms behind my ribs.
Later, once the dishes are cleared and dessert demolished, Tank pulls me closer on the couch, his arm heavy across my shoulders.
Jane is gesticulating wildly about something, her brow furrowed. Tex captures her hands gently, placing them against his chest over his heart. Jane calms instantly, and my heart clenches at Tex’s tender care.
Saint and Sadie talk quietly by the fire, her head on his shoulder. Maisie has claimed the rug in front of the hearth, legs twitching as she dreams.
“You doing okay?” Tank's voice is low, just for me.
“Better than okay.” I lean into his side, letting myself settle. “I like them.”
“Good.” His lips brush my temple. “They’re yours now. Whole annoying lot of them.”
“Even Tex?”
“EspeciallyTex. Someone’s got to keep him humble.”
I laugh, and he pulls me closer, and the fire crackles, and outside, the mountains stand steady against the night sky.
All the places I’ve been flash through my mind. All the towns I’ve passed through. All the temporary homes. All the relationships I left before they could leave me.
I’ve never fit anywhere. Never stayed long enough to try.
But here, with his arm around me and his family's laughter filling the room and a cabin waiting on a mountain that feels like home?—
I know I’m done running.
Epilogue
Jessie
The Wedding - Six Months Later
“Hold still.”
“I’m holding still.”
“You’re fidgeting.” Jane tugs at the back of my dress, adjusting something I can’t see. “Fidgeting is the opposite of stillness.”
“I’m getting married in twenty minutes. I’m allowed to fidget.”
“You’re already married,” Sadie points out from her spot by the window, where she’s keeping watch for the signal. “This is just making it official. Again. On purpose.”
