Sierra was nine months sober.
Sierra had reconnected with Cal about seven months ago, right before he and Maggie married. He’d visited her twice since and called her regularly. He’d begun lobbying for her move to Colorado a few months ago. For the eight years previous they’d been in touch but not much a part of each other’s lives and for that she had regrets. Those years had been especially difficult for Cal; the past five years had been brutal. His first wife, Lynne, had suffered from scleroderma, a painful, fatal disease, and had passed away three years ago. Cal had been a lost soul. If she’d been a better sister, she might’ve offered her support.
But that was in the past and the future was her opportunity. She hoped they could rebuild the close relationship they’d once had and become family again. Right before she’d started the long trek south to Colorado, Cal had shared a secret—he was going to be a father.
Sierra was thrilled for him. He would never know how much she looked forward to a baby. She would be an auntie. Since she would never have children of her own, this was an unexpected gift.
Cal Jones lay back against the pillows, his fingers laced behind his head, sheet drawn to his waist. He watched Maggie preen naked in front of the full-length mirror, checking her profile.
“We got a thing going on...me and Mrs. Jones...” he said, his voice husky.
She really didn’t show much yet. Just the tiniest curve where her waist had been. She kept smoothing her hand over it. “I passed the dreaded first three months with no issues,” she said. She beamed at him, her eyes alive. “I’m not sick. I feel great. I’m going to tell my dad it’s okay to tell his friends now.”
“Don’t be too surprised if you find he already has.”
“I wouldn’t be at all surprised.”
He watched her with pride. Thin as a reed with that little bump that he put there, her smile wistful and almost angelic. She wanted the baby as much as he did; she thrilled with each day it grew in her. This baby had healed something in her. And it filled him with a new hope. She was more beautiful now than she’d ever been.
“Mrs. Jones, you have to either get dressed or come over here and do me.”
She laughed. “I already did you. Magnificently, I might add.”
“I said thank you.”
She reached for her underwear, then her jeans, then her sweatshirt. The show was over. Now he’d have to wait all day to have her alone again.
“It’s time for you to get to work—I need a house. Tom will be here anytime. I’m going over to Sully’s store,” Maggie said. There was much cleanup and restoration to do at her dad’s general store and campground at Sullivan’s Crossing. It was the first of March, and it wouldn’t be long before the campers and hikers started coming in force.
Cal and Maggie were living in the barn they were renovating into a big house with the guidance of Tom Canaday, a local with some amazing carpentry and other building skills. Tom had good subcontractors to help, speeding up the process. Maggie and Cal had married last October and, while the roof and exterior were being reinforced and sealed, dormers added to what were once haylofts, the wiring refreshed, the interior gutted and windows installed where there had been none, they’d been living at Sully’s, in his basement. Tom, Cal and a few extra hands had finally finished off a bedroom and functional bathroom along with a semifunctional kitchen. That bedroom on the ground floor would eventually be Cal’s office when the house was finished. The proper master bedroom would be upstairs. They had a good seal on their temporary bedroom door so they could sleep there and not be overcome by sawdust or the dirt of construction. They’d been in residence two weeks, thanks to warmer weather and a good space heater.
Maggie spent most of her free time at the store helping her dad. Then there were those three or four days a week she was in Denver where she practiced neurosurgery. On her practice days she stayed at the Denver house she’d owned for several years. During her days away, Cal and Tom did the things that were noisiest, smelliest and messiest—the pounding and sawing, cutting granite and quartz, applying the noxious sealer, installing the floors, sanding and staining. Every time Maggie came home it was like Christmas—she’d find new stairs to the second floor, a bathtub, a new kitchen sink, ceramic tile on the kitchen floor, half a fireplace. But the most precious addition of all was the Shop-Vac. That little beauty kept dirt, sawdust, spillage and debris manageable. It was their goal to have the house finished before the baby came, due in October.
Tom Canaday was at the house, his truck backed up to the door, before Cal had finished making Maggie breakfast—very likely by design. Cal got the eggs back out and started making more breakfast.