Page 110 of When We Met

My dad stares down at the boy in my arms. “He looks like you.”

I fight through tears and nod, unable to give him any sort of reply. I’m afraid if I do, my words will shake and won’t hold the confidence I want them to.

Morgan takes him from me, smiling down at his nephew. “Sorry, little man, but I own the ranch, and Camdyn’s my second in command. I’ll cut you in on the family business though.”

I shake my head that he’s telling a newborn all this, but that’s Morgan. State the facts right away.

Lillian’s next in the room, Sev on her hip. Sev takes one look at Austyn and then Kacy. “That came out of your belly?” she asks, kinda disgusted, kinda intrigued.

Kacy nods, rubbing Camdyn’s back as she sits in the bed with her, helping her decide what they should dress Austyn in.

Sev peeks at Austyn closer as he squirms in Morgan’s arms. He lets out a wail of discontent, and she glares at me, covering her ears. We all laugh because you really never know what she’s thinking.

Kacy holds both girls in the bed with her, asking what Austyn’s middle name should be.

“We get to pick?” Camdyn asks.

Sev is the first to speak. “Damien.”

My eyes widen. Damien? Fuck. How dark is her soul?

“No, that’s dumb,” Camdyn tells her, rolling her eyes.

“No it not.” Sev pushes her. “You dumb. I likes dat name.”

“How about Christopher. Austyn Christopher sounds like a prince charming name.”

Sev climbs down from the bed and over to me. “They makin’ my head hurt. I’m hungry.”

I haul her up into my arms. “Okay, let’s go raid the vending machines.”

Before I leave, I take one last peek at Kacy, who is now holding Austyn in her arms.

My mind simmers on the moment I said “I do” to Kacy. That girl, the one wearing my ring. She’s five feet ten inches of wildfire crazy, and she makes the flames look beautiful. She’s not going to leave me because this life is too small town for her. She loves the fact that we have goats in our front yard and last week Camdyn brought a horse inside the house. It doesn’t bother her that when the wind blows, our living room smells like cow shit. She doesn’t care that I’m up before sunrise and back after dark.

She… wants this life.

She wants us.

Look at her holding our newborn son and the girls. That’s a wife. That’s what love is supposed to look like.

I can’t tell you how marriage works. What I can tell you is that loving a woman is an art that leaves even the artist questioning if he’s inspired or tortured. Kacy, she makes me feel all of that just by breathing.

Outside the room, Sev pulls a folded piece of paper from her pocket. “I draw this for you.”

I take the paper in my hand and unfold it. Her drawing skills have improved but I still can’t decipher it. “What is it?”

“Mommy’s vajingle.”

I snort and turn it sideways, squinting at the black and purple scribbles. “That’s exactly what it looks like, little girl.”

I was made for this life.

KACY

2 YEARS LATER

Whoever said you can’t turn a ho into a housewife really owes me an apology. Ha. I’m kidding. I was never a ho, but seriously though, I take being a rancher’s wife and a mama seriously.

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