Page 68 of Before You Can Blink
July
Who knew a party this small could create such a mess?
The sun was setting on Tripp’s second birthday, and while my wife was putting the kids to bed, I was out back with a trash bag, cleaning up the aftermath.
As I threw away an endless amount of wrapping paper scraps, paper plates, and plastic cups, my mind began to wander.
Two years.
It felt like a lifetime ago, but at the same time, I could still picture Daisy’s painful struggle like it was yesterday.
A shudder still ran through me every time I thought about what was, hands-down, the most terrifying day of my life. And lucky me, every year, I’d be forced to relive it as we celebrated the anniversary of my son’s birth with those closest to us.
With my task completed, I went inside, washed my hands, and trudged up the steps. When I reached the landing, the melodic humming coming from the open nursery door had my feet automatically moving in that direction.
At the threshold, I paused to drink in the sight of Daisy in the rocking chair, her feet pushing off the ground to keep the soothing motion rhythmic enough to lull Tripp to sleep. With a serene smile on her face, my wife looked down at our son, who was attached to her breast.
Stepping inside, I leaned against the far wall. “Isn’t he getting too old for this?”
When Daisy peeked up, I jerked my chin toward the nursing toddler, who had grown so large his legs hung over the side of her lap.
“He’ll wean when he’s ready.” Her reply carried a trace of defensiveness.
Sarcastic laughter broke free from my chest. “Show me a man who’s gonna give up free rein to suck on a pair of tits all day.”
My wife shot me a glare before her gaze softened, and she sighed. “Is it so wrong that I’m not ready to let go of this part yet?” She used a fingertip to trace the curve of Tripp’s cheek. “When Aspen was this age, we already had Tripp on the way, but she was done being my baby long before that. I’m just trying to make it last, is all.”
Without conscious thought, I blurted, “Is that what you want? Another baby?” Hell, at this point, giving her that might be the only way I would be getting laid anytime soon. I could count the number of times we’d had sex since Tripp was born on one hand.
Her lips folded inward, and she shook her head. “I can’t ask that of you when we’re still getting our footing with the ranch.”
Shame curdled like sour milk in my gut that Daisy was suppressing her desires because I still didn’t have my shit together when it came to supporting our family. We’d had four years of foals, but it would still bea few more before I could place that first batch of them into competition. And while that would—hopefully—be profitable for the ranch, it would mean I’d be back on the road during the rodeo season, forced to leave my family behind for months on end.
Like a cold bucket of water dumped over my head, it hit me that the life of ranch ownership would never get easier. And it wasn’t fair to ask Daisy to give up her dreams of having a large family simply because she’d chosen to walk down this rough road beside me.
Pushing off the wall, I ventured closer and dropped to my knees before her. “If that’s what you want, I’ll give it to you, Daze.”
She extended a hand, her fingers brushing my temple as her palm came to rest on my cheek. “And I love you for that, but we’re never going to break out of survival mode if we keep stretching ourselves so thin it’s a wonder we don’t break. And adding another baby will do just that. It wouldn’t be fair to the two children we do have to split our meager resources even further to accommodate a third—or more if it came down to it.”
A smile touched her lips. “Just because we’re closing this chapter doesn’t mean that, someday, we won’t fill this house with children. But perhaps, instead of half a dozen of our own little ones, it’s a dozen grandbabies instead.”
My eyebrows rose, and I teased, “A dozen, huh? Seems like a tall order for the two kids we have.”
Daisy shrugged. “Maybe so, but it’s just this feeling I have, you know?”
Not really, but I wasn’t about to admit that and make closing the door on her childbearing days any more difficult.
Instead, I gave her knee a reassuring squeeze. “If you say there’ll be a dozen, then a dozen there’ll be.”
I might be the one out there busting my ass from sunup until sundown, but never let it be said that my wife hadn’t made sacrifices of her own along the way. She would have just as much a hand in its success someday.
And I couldn’t help but marvel at her unwavering dedication, not only to me, but to this life I was trying like hell to build for us.
Whether it was luck or fate that brought her into my life, I would be forever grateful.
Chapter 11
Jett
