Ten Years Later…

The cabin is overfilled with people, it always is. Thank goodness my mountain daddy is building us a new house before the twins arrive. The addition he built a few years back, no longer fits our brood.

I run a hand over my slightly swollen belly, as the children run circles around me, Whiskey, Jr. chasing after them, as I try to hang laundry on the line. An old-fashioned choice, but the clothes and sheets smell so much better with the mountain air drying them through.

I see Hawkin in the distance with a hired crew. They are putting on roofing today, and I see my strong, capable husband laying shingles.

“You need a snack?” I ask the children. A chorus of yes Mama’s fill the air and my little tribe follows me into the cabin to get a snack.

They pile onto the benches, and I smile as I put crackers and cheese on a plate. It’s been one baby after the other and with the twins on the way, I don’t think this little clan of ours is slowing any time soon.

Asher is nine.

Lucy is eight.

Lindy is six.

Christopher is five.

Georgina is four.

Luke is two.

Samantha is one.

And these twins, well, they have another five months to grow.

My heart fills with love as I pour them glasses of milk, fresh from the dairy. They go to school—at least the older ones do—but it’s summer now, which means lazy days reading aloud chapter books, long walks to the creek, splashing and trying to catch tadpoles and frogs. Their papa will fire up the grill at night, and we eat like kings, fresh corn on the cob and freshly caught trout if the boys made it to the lake.

“You okay, Mama?” Asher asks. “You look like you could use a rest. Papa says you need to take breaks.”

“Yeah, Mama,” Lucy agrees. “You should sit in the rocker while we have our snack.”

I kiss the top of their heads, taking a glass of sun-kissed ice tea to the rocker, putting up my feet on the footrest and taking a long sigh.

My babes are so good at hearing their papa’s words, and as if on cue, Hawkin walks into our little cabin, sweaty from hard work, with dirt on his hands. He comes over and kisses me deeply, apologizing for the mess.

I want to linger in the kiss but know there is a time and place for everything. Still, my cheeks grow rosy and warmth spreads through me. I know that I’m a mother now, but when it’s just the two of us, Hawkin and me, we love to play the game that brought us together. No matter how large our brood grows, I will always be his baby girl and he will always be my Daddy.

“You feeling okay, baby?” he asks. Before I answer, he excuses himself to wash his hands. I hear him in the kitchen, washing up in the sink, then watch from the living room as he walks around the table. He dries his hand off by tousling the kids’ hair, sending them in a fit of giggles as their papa gives them the attention they deserve. “It’s hot out there today,” he says, pouring himself a glass of iced tea and then returning to where I am in the living room. “Sorry, babe, I left the room before you answered. How are you feeling today?”

“I’m good. I actually have a lot of energy today.”

He comes up behind the rocker at those words. Leaning down, he whispers in my ear. “Enough energy to play later on, after the kids go to bed?”

I nod, looking over at the table. The kids are distracted by the snack and not paying us any mind.

“In fact,” I tell my husband, “maybe I will knock on the bedroom door.”

He frowns. “Why is that?”

Whispering I answer, “We could pretend there’s a snowstorm, and that I need a place to stay.”

He grins. “Before I’ll let you in,” he growls in my ear, “you’ll have to give me a curtsy and promise to be a good girl.”

I swat him away, knowing if he keeps talking like that I’ll be too flustered to finish the day's chores.

“I love you,” I say.

And Hawkin simply kisses my cheek. “I love you more, Heaven.” Simple words, but they fill my heart to the brim.

My handsome mountain daddy always knows how to make me feel like the only woman in the world.