Page 153 of True North

So he grows up knowing the worth of a woman.

“Howdy, my boy. Bein’ good for your mama?”

He pulls a face, his little mouth twisted, his brows down. And, I swear, he growls.

I chuckle. This little boy is a chip off the old block.

“About that...” Louisa looks up at me.

“Yeah, Lou?”

“Not Mama. Ma.”

I know what she means.

Her face softens as she rises a little where she sits, leaning over as she pulls the swaddle blanket away from Hudson’s small face. “Do you think she would mind?”

Hell.

A stone rises in my throat with her meaning, tamping down any words. I drop my gaze to Hudson, then shift it to Louisa. “She would be honored. And it sounds perfect to me.”

Louisa smiles, a tear tracking down her cheek. She swipes it away as she whispers, “Ma.”

A huffy breath snaps from her chest, and she slides from the bed. “Take us home, Harry.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I pluck up the overnight bag, still cradling my son, and lead my wife home.

* * *

Louisa

Hudson rides on the bench seat between us, his small baby seat tethered to the lap belt. Harry drives slow. Almost too slow. He’s been a father for five minutes and already outshines his own in every single way.

“How’s things while I was away?” I ask, eyes searching the horizon as we get closer and closer to the ranch.

“Good. Same.”

He glances at me, but those deep blues have a glint of something suspicious in them.What are you up to, Harry Rawlins?

His hands grip the wheel tight. His angled jaw and dark hair still set the silhouette I adore. That stubble. The deep adoration burning right through me...

I’m more in love with this man than I’ve ever been.

Just when I think life can’t get any better. That I can’t love him more... Harry becomes a father, and that feeling, the invisible tug we’ve always had, infinitely grows. Fortified by this new adventure in our life together.

“I can hear the cogs turnin’, Louisa May.”

I smile at him, eyes shining with all the love I have for him. I don’t respond. Instead, he turns into the ranch, but pulls up before the wide entrance.

“Welcome home, Mrs. Rawlins.” He nods to the wide arch above us.

H J & L M Rawlins

Rosewood Ranch

My hand presses over my mouth. It’s wonderful. We talked about this for so long. To see it, the new hardwood posts and the carved wooden entrance with our initials, it’s something else.

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