Page 86 of Truck Hard

Now that Christian and Amelia are together, joining our families forever, the feud doesn’t hold as much power over us. There’s a civility between our families that no other generation could ever find.

Grams practically shoves me aside to reach Christian and Amelia as they enter the kitchen. The sight of my stern German grandmother melting like butter at the sight of Chrissy never fails to amuse me.

“Let me see that sweet angel!” Grams demands, already holding out her arms.

Amelia laughs and passes the tiny bundle over. Chrissy is the perfect blend of her parents, with Christian’s dark hair and Amelia’s delicate features. She’s wrapped in a yellow blanket that Grams knitted herself during Amelia’s pregnancy.

“There’s my little sweetie pie,” Grams coos, her accent thickening with emotion as she cradles the baby against her chest. “The prettiest girl in all of Ohio.”

Christian watches them with naked pride on his face. It’s still startling to see my troubled brother so transformed by fatherhood. The guy who once couldn’t be trusted to show up for work sober now handles his daughter with confident tenderness.

“She’s been waiting for Grandma time all morning,” Amelia says, leaning against Christian’s side. “Barely slept a wink.”

“Savin’ all her sweetness for me, weren’t you?” Grams sways gently, pressing soft kisses to Chrissy’s forehead. “Smart girl. Already knows who sneaks the best treats.”

I can’t help but smile at the scene. Grams raised seven wild boys virtually on her own, but this little girl has captured her heart in a way none of us ever could. There’s something special about watching her hold the next addition of a new generation—proof that despite all our family’s mistakes and misadventures, we’re still growing, still moving forward.

“Don’t you dare think about takin’ her back anytime soon,” Grams warns Christian. “We have important bonding to do.”

This drags a small smile for Christian. He leans down and kisses Chrissy on the top of her head before we all head outside to finish the preparations.

By early afternoon, the back field has been transformed into a makeshift baseball diamond. Warren and Chase drag out old equipment from the barn—bases, bats, balls accumulated over years of summer games. Mac marks out the base paths while Garret and Ash argue good-naturedly about proper pitching form.

The sound of Cam’s excited laughter makes my heart leap. Hannah’s holding the back door open, and Cam practically explodes out from the house, already wearing his new baseball practice clothes.

My eyes catch on Hannah across the yard. She’s taking her turn holding Chrissy, cradling her with a natural ease that makes my throat tighten. Something shifts in my chest watching her—the woman I love holding my brother’s baby, her face soft with that expression only babies seem to bring out.

I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.

She looks up, catches me staring, and smiles—a private curve of lips meant just for me. Heat rushes through me that has nothing to do with the afternoon sun. The sight of Hannah with a baby in her arms stirs something primal and possessive inside me. Something I’ve never felt before.

Would she want more children? The thought hits me with unexpected force.

We already have Cam, of course. The miracle I nearly missed. But watching her now, I can’t help imagining a little girl with Hannah’s eyes and smile. Or another boy, a little brother for Cam. A family we build together, deliberately this time.

I haven’t allowed myself to think this far ahead. We’re still finding our way back to each other, healing old wounds, building something solid. But standing here, seeing her so natural with Chrissy, I suddenly know with absolute certainty that I want this future with her—marriage, more children, everything.

Hannah whispers something to the baby, then glances up at me again. The longing in her eyes mirrors what must be plain on my face, and my heart hammers against my ribs.

God, I hope she wants more children. I hope she wants everything—with me.

“Dad!” Cam shouts, racing toward me. I shake my head and shift my attention to him. “Look what Mom got me!”

He proudly displays his new mitt—real leather, properly broken in. Hannah follows more slowly, a soft smile playing around her lips.

“Had to special order it,” she says quietly when she reaches me. “But the look on his face was worth it.”

I pull her close, careful not to squish Chrissy, and press a kiss to her temple. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

She blushes, but doesn’t pull away. Progress.

“Alright, kid.” Chase calls out. “Let’s see what you’ve got!”

Cam’s enthusiasm is infectious as we spread out across the field. I release Hannah so she can return to the back porch to watch.

My brothers fall naturally into their old positions—Chase catching, Warren at short, Christian in center field. I take first base, where I can keep an eye on everything.

“Remember what we practiced.” I call to Cam as he steps up to the plate. “Nice easy swing.”

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