Page 266 of Back in the Saddle

“Sweetheart,” Eric called gently.

I looked up at him again.

He was wavy through the tears in my eyes.

“We’ve also looked into him.”

I knew I didn’t want to know, but I nodded anyway.

“She died of postpartum preeclampsia.”

I swallowed a sob.

Oh, Homer.

“The baby lived,” Eric went on. “Then she got leukemia and passed when she was four.”

I made a pained noise.

Oh,Homer.

I couldn’t hold my head up anymore, so I let it drop.

Eric curled a hand around the back of my neck and put his lips to my hair.

“Let’s get this done for you,” he muttered into my hair. “Look at the back, honey.”

To get it over with, I flipped the picture. I had to blink several times to clear my eyes, but I read:

This is home, Jessie.

I’m glad you found yours.

Hold on to it.

As long as you can.

I couldn’t swallow that sob, my whole body bucked with the power of it.

Eric kept his hand on my neck, his lips to my hair as I allowed the tears to come.

When I started to pull my shit together, I felt Henny jump up beside me, start kneading my thigh with his paws, and that was when Eric moved away.

It was also when I watched him open his nightstand again to commence giving me my last Christmas gift.

He took out a beautiful silver frame.

At this point, he slid the photo from my fingers, and I watched him put it in the frame. I then watched him walk around the bed and rest the frame on the nightstand at my side.

He came back around, gently removed Henny from my thigh, took my hand, pulled me off the bed and into the bathroom.

He made me brush my teeth standing beside him at his basin.

After I changed into a nightie, and Eric had put on his sleep pants, when we were about to get into bed, I put my hand on his abs.

“Stop looking for him,” I requested.

“Sweetheart,” he murmured.

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