Page 28 of She Autumn Be Mine

Name? Home? No. Paper. That’s all this was. A man proposed a convenient arrangement while my sweet son fought sleep in my arms. The son who already called him Dada. Another convenience.

I put him on the floor with his toys. He reached for the mini-pumpkin.

“How would this work? Like we’d suddenly get married out of the blue? People would see right through us. We won’t be able to fool anyone. And then if we tell them why, and ask them to lie, it’ll be a big mess.” In a town like this, we’d be all anyone would talk about. I hated for the spotlight to be on us, or Stetson. Hadn’t Trig’s situation done that enough? Which was probably how the Eatons found us, what with all the local media coverage from the trial.

“Really? Ask anyone in town. They’ve seen me come up here, and hung out with you. The clerks at the grocery store have heard me chat about you and the baby when I checked out, buying us food each week. Everyone will think we’ve been together and simply kept quiet about it for months. Nobody in Forest Grove needs to know any difference. Nobody has to lie.”

“Except us,” I pointed out in the middle of my tiny apartment, feeling even smaller, wrung out as thoroughly as a rag. I thought about Marlene Eaton's pew with her name on it, and the paltry sum in my coffee can, and the way Jake’s arm warmed against my back earlier like it belonged there. Everything swirled in my head in an utterly hopeless stream.

“Is it really that much of a lie, Autumn? All these months we’ve spent around each other, and you don’t think about me as more than a friend?” His hand tried once again, slowly reaching for my cheek. “Because I do.”

He added his other hand, cupping my face. I didn’t back away this time, desperately searching for reassurances, and promises, and—hope.

“Autumn Michelle Triggs. Marry me,” he whispered. My pulse ran away. His breath brushed my lips, getting nearer by the second, close enough to watch the hazel of his eyes go dark around the edges.

My lids drifted closed, every rule I’d been drafting going up in smoke⁠—

“Dada!” Stetson shrieked, suddenly grabbing our attention.

He stood on his own two feet, holding onto nothing. And then… one foot lifted, setting down in front of him. He wobbled for a second, but held steady. I sucked in my breath, hardly believing this.

The other foot lifted and—he toppled over in a giggling mess.

Jake reached him first, scooping him up, bringing him between us, the biggest smile splitting his face.

“Did you see that, Autumn? Our baby’s first step.”

“Our…? Oh, Stetson.” Tears flooded my eyes. We hugged him between us, caught up in the moment.

“Baby’s first step. Amazing.” Jake repeated, a glow to his face.

I could learn so much from my son. He hadn’t waited until walking was safe, or for a guarantee he wouldn’t fall. He pulled himself up, let go of everything, wobbled a step, and went down, laughing even. The way he squirmed in Jake's arms, he itched to try again.

"Okay, buddy, here you go. Walk to Mama. Here he comes.” Jake set him down, feet on the carpet, tiny hands holding his big thumbs. He let go and—down he went, falling backward, his head hitting on the floor.

This time, I caught him up, holding him, and rubbing the back of his head as he pouted. “It’s okay, sweetie. You’ll try again tomorrow, and the day after, until this walking thing works.”

Good advice for him. Meanwhile, I’d spent the past whole year holding onto the rail, afraid to move forward from my past.

I regarded Jake, offering me something that could mean the difference between winning and losing Stetson. But underneath the paper and the legal strategy, he was offering something else, too. Something that could be good between us.

Actually, it already was, if I’d stop being too scared to look straight at it. Could I let go of the past and reclaim my future, one step at a time… with Jake?

“Okay,” I whispered.

Jake's eyes snapped to mine. “Okay?”

“Yes.” My voice gained ground. “I’ll marry you.”

His arm came around me and pulled me in, Stetson giggling between us, squished in the middle of the first real embrace in the history of us.

Jake’s hand spread warm between my shoulder blades, his chin resting on my hair, my nose full of his cedar scent and the whole day we’d spent outside together. I breathed him in, and for a moment I stopped being able to tell the difference between relief and everything else.

“It’s going to be okay, little mama,” he said over my head. “We’re going to win.”

“But we need to talk about this. Come up with rules,” I warned, because I could feel exactly how much this could grow, and that scared me almost worse than Wyoming. I stepped back and made my spine do its job.

“Name them.”