The word still surprises me sometimes. Not because it’s hard now. Because it’s mine.
He smiles without making a show of it and squeezes my hand once.
When I finally sit down, Rowan slides into the seat beside me with a quiet kind of presence, a mug warm in her hands.
“I brought something.” She sets a small laptop on the table between us like it’s no bigger deal than passing bread. “Remember when you told me you were headed to college in the fall the year you got kidnapped by Dead Daryl?”
I blink at it. Then at her.
She doesn’t push. Just opens it, turns the screen slightly so I can see. “Online classes at the college where Tandy and I areprofessors. You can take them from up here. Go as slow or as fast as you want. We’ll be here to help you every step of the way.”
My stomach tightens. College. The word I buried so deep it stopped hurting.
Rowan glances at me, then back to the screen. “You don’t have to decide tonight. Just… thought you should know it’s still yours if you want it.”
Still yours.
I reach out, touch the edge of the keyboard like it might disappear.
Rafe’s hand finds the small of my back, steady and warm. “Whatever you choose, Briar. We make it happen.”
I nod once, strong and certain. Of course I want that. I want a future that includes bettering myself right along with a husband and family if the mountain blesses us that way.
Boone lets out a shout. Then I see them.
At the edge of the clearing, past the first line of trees, my mom stands with both hands wrapped tight around a covered dish she definitely did not need to bring. Her shoulders are stiff with nerves, but her chin is up. My sister, Bethany, stands beside her in jeans and boots, eyes huge as she takes in the fire, the cabins, the mountain men, the children running wild.
For one heartbeat, none of us move.
Then Bethany spots me and grabs our mom’s arm.
“There she is,” she says, too loud with excitement and trying to pretend she isn’t about to cry.
Rafe’s hand leaves mine. He’s not stepping away from me, but he knows I need to go to them on my own.
Bethany reaches me first.
Her arms hug around my ribs, face buried against my shoulder. For one wild second, I go stiff on instinct. Then I know her. The shape of her. The way she clings when she’s trying not to cry.
“You’re really here.” My sister’s voice breaks all over itself. “I know you’re here, but I still can’t believe you’re here.”
I wrap my arms around her carefully. Not because I’m afraid of her. Because I feel everything too much when it comes fast.
“I’m here,” I tell her.
The words come rough, but they come.
Bethany jerks back and stares at me like I just worked a miracle. Her eyes fill so fast it makes emotion wrap around my heart.
Mom is slower.
She sets the dish down on the nearest stump. Then she comes to me with both hands lifted, giving me time to pull away if I need to.
I don’t.
She touches my face first. Then my hair. Then she folds me into her arms so gently I almost break from that alone.
The last time I was held by my mom, I still thought the world made sense.
