But then Rosie starts contracting again. Jaxon takes our baby girl, and Harper grips Rosie’s hands. The second baby is on its way. Fast.
Rosie. One moment she is screaming bloody murder, her belly hard, sweat rolling down her face – she looks like a painting, so many emotions all at once, more than a photograph could ever capture. Desperation and pain and longing and fulfillment.
The baby comes, furiously, hair light also, just like mine, her tiny body covered in her mama, they scream the most delightful sound in the world.
Another daughter.
Two baby girls, healthy. Kicking and screaming.
And ours.
Ours.
Rosie takes the baby, at some point her sweater came off, but so much of this last half hour was a blur. The babies are in her arms, cradled and naked and against her chest. Harper and Jaxon are helping massage her belly, she still needs to deliver the placenta, but my focus, right now, is on my woman.
I cup Rosie’s face with my hands, amazed at her bravery, and her strength. At her beauty.
“Oh, Rosie,” I say. “You are a mother.”
Her face crumples, but not in sorrow, in pure, unabashed joy. “And you Buck, are a father.”
I kiss her softly, then the heads of my daughters.
And for one magical moment everything in the world feels like it’s okay. Like everything is going to be alright.
We hear cars pulling up at the house. Doors slamming. I think, thank God, the ambulance is here.
But Jaxon runs to the door, to let them inside.
And it isn’t the ambulance.
It’s the Russian mob.
16
One moment I think my life is finally my own.
And then in a flash, everything changes. Buck and Jaxon open the gun safe in the closet, and Buck hands his friend a gun, holsters one himself. I frantically try to make him stop.
“Buck stop,” I cry out. And thank God he turns around. He wants to make these men leave, but I know it isn’t as simple as that. “They are going to kill you, Buck. And I can’t lose you. Your daughters can’t.”
“What would you have me do, Rosie?” His eyes are filled with an intensity I don’t quite know what to do with. He is so willing to lay down his life for me, that amount of passion is overwhelming. He must see me shaking, and he nods, promising me everything with his eyes. “I can’t leave Jaxon to fight them off alone, you understand?”
I nod back. “Buck,” I whisper, my babies in my arms, my legs covered in blood, Harper using a knife to cut the umbilical cord, our entire life – the one we haven’t even begun to share – flashing before our eyes. “I love you. Completely.”
“Oh Rosie,” he says. “I love you forever.”
Time stops. Buck loves me. And I love him.
And I don’t know how long our forever will be, but right now, his love is mine.
Then the men are gone, slamming the door shut, and Harper’s triplets are crying now, realizing there is a lot of commotion that no cartoon can hide it. Harper steadily presses a towel between my legs, then takes a baby from my arms, carrying her into the bedroom. She returns a moment later, taking the second babe.
“Try to stand, I’ll be right here for you to hold onto,” she calmly states.
I move to get up, my legs shaking, my body exposed. I manage to get to the bedroom, into the bed. She brings me my babies, and goes to get hers.
A minute later we’re all in the bedroom, the triplets on the floor, Harper in the bathroom getting wet rags to clean the girls. All the while we’re both in shock, fear. Horror.
Outside there are screams.
A gun shot.
Harper’s eyes meet mine. “Our men are strong, Rosie. They aren’t city boys. They are mountain men. They know how to take care of themselves, but more than that, they know how to protect the ones they love.”
I hope like hell she is right.
17
I don’t know who these motherfuckers think they are, showing up on my property, pulling out their fucking guns. Thinking they can what? Come to my home and take away my woman and my children?
Oh, hell no.
“You better back the fuck away,” I yell, coming toward them. “I’ll fight. I’ll fire. I’ll put you in the grave.”
“Easy now, “Jaxon says, walking beside me. “You come out here guns blazing and these fuckers will shoot first.”
I nod, knowing he’s right. “What do you want?” I ask. There are three men here, dark hair, dark eyes, three piece suits and trench coats. None of them have a prayer of getting close to Rosie.
“We’re here for the girl.”
“No. She’s staying.”
“Like hell she is. She is my property. My kin. You have no claim over her.”
“How did you find us here?”