Page 34 of One Last Storm
“When can we see him?” Axel asked.
“He’s in recovery now. Give us another hour to get him settled, then you can visit in small groups.”
The doctor disappeared back down the hallway. Leaving them in the sudden quiet of crisis averted. Not solved—Dawson would have a long recovery ahead, and…well, she didn’t know about Kiana—but the immediate danger had passed.
Moose turned and went into his wife’s room.
“What’s going on with Tillie,” Axel said as he put his arms around her again.
“She’s…fine.” Flynn turned and wrapped hers around his waist, settled her head against his chest. “We’re all going to be fine.”
“Merry Christmas Eve,” Shep said quietly.
It wasn’t merry, exactly. But for the first time in hours, Flynn thought they might all make it to Christmas morning intact.
And sometimes, that was the best gift you could ask for.
CHAPTER 10
MOOSE
Here they were—Christmas Eve morning in a hospital room, and somehow this felt more like a miracle than any Christmas Moose could remember.
“You’re pregnant?”
He’d shed his jacket and outerwear, his body still frozen through, despite the attempt at heat in Jericho’s old truck. But he’d been fueled on worry, and now…now he pulled up a chair, glancing at his daughter, beautiful Hazel snuggled up in the recliner.
Caspian lay at her feet, snoozing, although the dog had lifted his head when Moose came into the room. No light yet from the dawn, but the world had started to turn gray, not quite so black out.
Tillie nodded, her hand reaching for him. “I’m so sorry. I wanted to…I wanted to surprise you. On Christmas day.”
She looked, admittedly, rough. Clearly, she’d been crying, her hair tousled and he hated how terribly fragile she appeared in that hospital gown. But oh, so beautiful. He squeezed her hand. “Babe. I…”
“Tell me you’re happy.” She swallowed.
“I’m so…I’m so happy I could…I mean. Happy? It’s not the right word. I’m…ecstatic. I’m amazed. I’m grateful. I’m…”
And then, shoot, he simply bowed his head, touched his forehead to her hand, and wept, his breaths, the stress of the last twenty-four hours spilling out.
“Moose?”
He held up his hand. Pulled in a shaky breath. “Just need…a second…”
He felt her hand in his hair, then on his cheek and she lifted his face to hers. Smiling. Her expression just poured over him, through him, lit him up inside, all the way to his bones.
He’d found the word. “Joy.”
“Huh?”
“I feel joy.”
Then he stood up, put one hand on the pillow beside her, leaned down, and kissed her.
And kissed her.
And really kissed her.
“Daddy!”
