“She’s a stupid suka, told the starushka she was leaving, and where.” The man smiles smugly. “We killed the starushka for keeping secrets.”
My jaw tenses. I’m ready to blow up this motherfucker’s face. He is the one that has kept Rosie small. He is the one who taught her that she is weak, when I just witnessed her strength. He is the one who must pay.
“You’re Rosie’s uncle?”
“Yes, I am,” he spits out. “And I don’t think you know who you are talking to.”
“Oh, I know who I’m talking to alright. I’m talking to the son of a bitch who treated Rosie like a piece of property.” I can’t hold back anymore, I charge at him, ready to knock him to the ground.
I connect my fist to his jaw, and there’s a loud crack. The men with him jump into action, pulling out their guns on me.
“We got him,” one of the men call to her uncle. “You go get Rosalind.”
“Over my dead body,” I shout, reaching for my gun.
“You better think twice,” her uncle responds, making a break for the door, holding his face with his hand.
I don’t hesitate. I pull the trigger, connecting the bullet to his leg. Knowing the blow will drop him like a fly.
“Motherfucker,” he screams, falling on my porch.
“You want to play this game?” I ask his entourage. “Because I know two things. You aren’t getting inside and I have back up on their way.”
Jaxon kicks the gun out of the uncle’s hand the moment he tries to pull himself up. Grabbing the gun, Jaxon and I leer above the two asshats who think they are in the same league as us.
At that moment, an ambulance rolls up the drive, lights blaring, siren roaring. The jerkoffs drop their guns, realizing we mean business.
We aren’t fucking around and we sure as hell aren’t letting anyone near our women and children.
We are mountain men.
Epilogue
One year later …
I finish adding candles to the birthday cake the moment Buck’s parents arrive, arms filled with wrapped gifts for the girls, smiles on their faces, flowers for me.
It never gets old, this family. The love they offer so freely.
Last year, after the twins and I were transported to the hospital, Buck called his parents, letting them know the news. All of it.
That I came back. That I was pregnant with his twins. That I’d had them that morning.
That he’d shot a man. Shot my uncle.
But I don’t want to think about that right now. Right now we have a celebration to worry about. Clover and Poppy – our mountain wildflowers – are turning one.
“Where are my granddaughters?” Cherri asks, giving me a kiss on the cheek.
“Buck is getting them in their party dresses,” I tell her, giving Dirk a hug, then offering him a Bud Light. “How is the new menu working at the diner?”
I helped Cherri come up with a new menu, and I go down there a few afternoons a week to help out. It’s a nice way to get out of the house, but also I love it there, cooking and working on recipes.
“It’s going good, but it’s always better when you’re there. As soon as these babies grow a bit, the place is yours, Rosie.”
Cherri says this often enough that I’m beginning to believe her. Who would of thought all those years cooking and cleaning for my uncle could be redeemed?
Buck walks into the kitchen, his girls in his arms.
“Oh, my goodness sakes,” Cherri coos. “Those dresses are adorable. Where’d you find them?”
“Harper and I sewed them. They turned out pretty cute, right?”
“Where are Jaxon and Harper?” Buck asks.
“They’re on their way. Harper wasn’t feeling very good this morning.”
“That poor thing has the worst morning sickness, doesn’t she?” Cherri shakes her head, then reaches out for Poppy. “Was it like that for you, with the girls?”
I meet Buck’s eyes, I hate talking about my pregnancy because I know how much Buck wishes he could have been a part of every doctor visit, every ultrasound. He would have been one of those daddy’s who put headphones on my belly and played our girls his favorite country music.
But he missed all those firsts.
“I was pretty sick, so maybe that means Harper is going to have herself a girl this time around.”
“Bet she’d like that,” Dirk says, clinking his beer against Buck’s. “That woman is stuck in a cabin with lots of boys.”
We share a knowing laugh, Jaxon’s sons are two and we call them the wild pack. I can’t imagine a more grizzly bunch of boys. Aspen, Cedar and Spruce are loud, louder, and loudest.
“Well, Harper has all the boys and you, my dear,” Cherri says to Buck, “have all the girls.”