Chapter Seventeen
River
Late fall was a beautiful time to go to the cabin. Most of the leaves had already fallen, making for a delightful crunchy sound on trial hikes and walks. The cyan blue of the sky was broken only by a few puffy white clouds, and the temperature was in the forties. Perfect weather for a romantic weekend in the mountains. Last winter, for about ten minutes, I’d imagined what it would be like to come up here and do those things with Forrest. Before the alpha made his lack of interest clear.
I barely fit behind the wheel anymore, and if not for the virulent flu bug all of Maria’s kids suddenly came down with, I’d never have headed for the hills, so to speak. With the baby due in a matter of weeks, I couldn’t chance catching the illness, and since my cousin assured me it was a forty-eight hour stomach thing, and the weatherman predicting clear and beautiful, I wasn’t too worried about being a few miles outside of town for the weekend.
The cabin looked the same as always. Cozy, a little rundown but in a comforting way. Autumn leaves collected on the porch that would eventually blow off on their own. But as I opened the door and stepped inside, the difference from his other visits hit me hard. Sure, the ghosts of my family were here, the echoes of parties and celebrations, camping trips, and snow trips and fishing expeditions.
But overlying it all, the memories of last winter when I’d passed a few days with an alpha I could have spent my life with. If the alpha in question had shared my feelings. Instead, the only thing I had to remind me of our time together was growing under my heart.
Rubbing my stomach, I spoke to the little one. “It’s okay, baby. We got this. Your other daddy may not be here, but I am, and together we’ll have lots of adventures. I bet you’ll be on skies before you can walk.” I moved from room to room, turning on lights. Although the sun shone outside, the tall trees ringing the clearing blocked a lot of it, and in my current mood, dark wasn’t working.
“Doing my best, baby,” I muttered, heading back out to the car for groceries and luggage. I’d parked in the driveway this time, seeing no need to use the garage in such nice weather, and, despite the time left before my due date, I had a vague idea I might want to drive away quickly if even one Braxton Hicks happened.
The breeze picked up, and I turned the collar of my jacket up and shivered, hurrying toward the house with my bag of milk and veggies and other superfoods. Not my choices, although, as an athlete, I watched my diet carefully. During the pregnancy, I’d developed an alarming love for all things bad to eat, which I blamed on the baby.
Maria had loaded this bag in the car. Another one lay beside it, from her convenience store—purchased while she was not there, of course. After stowing the healthful foods in the fridge, I returned for the candy bars, chips, snack cakes, and frozen corn dogs. An omega needed something to be happy about when his life was suckerific.
I tried hard to look forward, picture myself back on the slopes with the baby in a carrier. Did anyone do that? Was it safe? Maybe while doing cross country? Or I could tow the little one on a stroller/sled combo I’d been designing in my spare time—of which I had much. I’d figure it out.
Closing the car door, I paused at the sight of a vehicle heading this way. The side road the cabin was located on had only a half dozen addresses and a dead end a couple of miles uphill, so any passerby led to curiosity.
The van approaching was not familiar. Certainly not Forrest’s jazzy vehicle, not that I had any reason to expect him. And for sanity’s sake and that of my unborn child, I must strike the name from memory. The black minivan bore paper plates and had that brand-new-from-the-showroom glow. Someone had a family and the money to drive them in style. Since I heard no noise, it must be electric or maybe a hybrid.
Shrugging, I climbed the steps to the porch, guilt at the fact I planned to eat all this junk today niggling at the corner of my mind. I heard the crunch of gravel in the driveway and stopped while reaching for the doorknob. They must be lost. Surely, Maria didn’t rent the place out of a big family this weekend and forget…
“River.” The deep voice rolled over me, and I let the bag drop to the wood floor. Too many fantasies went this way. Could the pregnancy hormones be costing me my sanity? I waited, afraid to turn around. “River, Maria told me everything.”
Now I turned. “So you came because my cousin told you I am pregnant, and you felt guilty about it? Well, don’t. I’m fine.” Shoving the door open, I stomped inside and prepared to lock out the last of my dreams. None of the fantasies went this way. In every one, Forrest arrived because he missed me and then learned about the incipient progeny. A giant lump formed in my throat.
Forrest’s feet pounded up the steps, and one polished loafer stopped the door from closing. “River, I came here from a meeting with my agent and only stopped long enough to buy a minivan.” He spoke low, but with a firm edge. “A minivan, River…for our family.”
I stumbled away, coming up against the back of a chair, and braced myself there as Forrest entered. He came at me without slowing and gathered me in his arms. His lips descended onto mine in a kiss at once new and familiar that dissolved the lump and sent the tears flowing. When he stepped back, I dashed at the moisture on my cheeks. “Damn hormones.”
Forrest rested both palms on my belly. “So, it’s true?” he whispered. “This is our baby, in here?”
“Yeah, but don’t worry.” The bitterness boiled out. “You can see them as often as you like. We’ll set up a visitation schedule.”
He slid his hands from my stomach, around my waist to my back, and enfolded me in his embrace. “You are such a silly omega. Why would I need to visit my own family? Frankly”—his forehead rested against mine—“I’ve lived without you long enough. I’m grateful Maria contacted me; I only wish it had been sooner.”
The light came back into the cabin, into my life, with his words. “B-but you barely even said goodbye when I left. I thought you didn’t care at all.”
“I was an idiot. You were so adamant about not wanting children, and they’re very important to me. I want a family. But after I wrote that book…our story…I knew I wanted you with or without kids. I hoped we’d be able to make it work, but there are a lot of kids out there who need love, and I figured I could always volunteer as a big brother or something if you truly didn’t want one.” He sighed. “Only pride kept me away this long. I thought you wouldn’t want to see me because I was such an ass when we parted.”
How could I have ever thought I didn’t want kids? With this man? “I just didn’t think they were in my future. I told you about my bad luck with alphas. My career was all I had, and my injury scared me pretty badly.”
He led me to the couch and settled me with a pillow at my back and my feet up on the cushions. “Sounds like we both made some assumptions. But we have a lifetime to talk them out. Cocoa?”