I glance up, expecting to see someone I know, because even though I’m a relative newcomer, I’ve lived here longer than Kira, and I meet a lot of people through the school. But I don’t recognize the woman who’s just come in.
She looks to be in her late twenties and is wearing well-worn hiking boots and a faded field jacket that looks like it’s seen more trails than closets. A canvas bag hangs from one shoulder, and when she comes closer, heading to a nearby table, I see a topographic map sticking out of the top.
I look at Kira and shrug.
The woman orders coffee, then spreads her map over the table.
When Ruth returns a minute later, she sets the cup on the part of the table that’s clear. “You passing through?”
“Maybe,” the woman says. “Do you happen to know any local guides who have experience with themountain passes?”
Ruth’s expression shifts, not enough to be unfriendly, but enough that I notice. “Well,” she says slowly, “there are the Wilder brothers.”
The stranger waits, pencil poised above the map. “Wilder brothers?”
“Triplets up on the ridge,” Ruth adds, as if it explains everything.
Across from me, Kira’s mouth twitches.
I lower my voice. “Should someone warn her?”
Kira glances toward the woman, then back at me. “About the mountains or the men?”
A few days later, when my phone rings from an unknown number, I almost don’t answer, but something tells me I should. “Hello?”
“Elena? This is Atlas.”
My chest immediately fills with a hopeful excitement, especially since Kira is a couple of days past her due date. “Hi, Atlas. Is Kira okay?”
“She’s good. In fact, I’m calling to give you the wonderful news. Kira had the baby this morning. Her name is Felicity.”
“Aww, Felicity. I love that name. They’re both doing well?” I can tell they are by Atlas’s voice, which is proud and happy and has an uncharacteristic tinge of nervous excitement. I know from experience the kind of impact a baby can have on a man, even one who doesn’t often show a softer side.
“They’re both fine. Healthy baby girl. Kira’s resting now, but she said she’d like to see you if you’re free.”
I laugh softly, already tidying the papers I was working on into a stack. “I’m free. I’ll see you soon. Do you need anything?”
“Everything’s under control,” he says, sounding more like the Atlas I know. “We’ll see you later.”
When the call ends, I sit there for a second with my hand curled around the phone and my heart swelling with a strange, tender little ache.
A baby.New life always feels miraculous, but with everything Kira survived to get here, this feels like something even bigger. She deserves every bit of joy a baby brings.
An hour later, the five of us are pulling into the Sentinel compound, and it feels so different from recent visits. Lately, I’d been associating this place with danger, contingency plans, and the long shadow of things hunting me. Now, as Buck parks and we all climb out, it just feels like family.
T.J. brought one of his stuffed animals to give to the baby, and he rushes ahead, excited, until Buck quietly calls his name as a reminder to slow down.
Atlas opens the door before we can knock, like he’s been tracking our arrival the whole time, and he probably has. His expression softens when he sees us, and though Atlas is not a man given to outward displays, there’s no mistaking his happiness today.
Inside, the house smells warm, like something savory from the kitchen, clean laundry, and wood polish,and beneath it all, that faint, sweet scent unique to homes with a newborn.
Boyd appears with a dish towel slung over one shoulder. “You made it.”
“Wouldn’t have missed it,” Weston says.
“Good answer.” Boyd holds out his fist to T.J. to bump knuckles. His grin is easy, but softer around the edges than usual.
Weston and Boyd clasp hands, then pull into a rough one-armed hug that turns into Boyd thumping him on the back hard enough to make Weston laugh.
