"Look," I tell him. "I've been traveling for weeks. I'm exhausted and just need some space clear my head." Looking at all the kids fussing now over Harper's bedtime call, I know I need more peace and quiet than this house tonight. "I'm thinking of heading up to my uncle's old cabin and checking it out. Stay there for the night to just decompress. You been out there lately?"
Jaxon shakes his head. "Not in the last year or so. We thought about trying to buy the land from your father—the deed's in his name—but we didn't want to mess with him."
"I can understand that." Running my hand over my neck, I ask, "Do you have a sleeping bag I can borrow, maybe a few granolas bars or something to tide me over?"
Jaxon nods. "I can set you up with gear all right. I'll even throw in a bottle of whiskey. I'm thinking you could use a stiff drink or two."
Chapter Nine
I've been up here a month. No one has come looking for me, thank God.
I'm cut off from the outside world, but I don't mind. In fact, I'm glad. I don't want to know what happened to everyone when they left the compound. Or if they left at all.
Knowing that kind of information is only going to stress me out and hold me back. Right now, I can't have that. Right now, I need to focus on my babies. On our survival.
Our future.
The cabin is in rough shape, but what's new? I'm in rough shape myself. But honestly, this place could be infested with rodents and I wouldn't mind. I'm experiencing the sweet taste of freedom for the first time in my life, and it’s more beautiful than I could've ever imagined.
We drove up here when it was late at night, and spent the first night in the van. I'd nurse one baby, buckle them back in their car seat, and then nurse the next. I rotated like that for hours, and eventually, they all passed out with milk drool on their chin. Then I could capture a few hours of rest myself.
The next day I got to work. On the lush, green grass I laid out a blanket and set my babies in a row while I began unloading my van. I wasn't intimidated by the undertaking—I was motivated by it.
I may be sheltered and naïve in some ways, and surely my education is lacking—but my common sense? It's at full throttle. After losing James, I stopped being so scared. Not outwardly, of course, I still maintained a meek and mild demeanor, and in a lot of ways, I didn't even have a choice in it. I was on bedrest for months.
But inwardly, the way I thought about things really began to change. I worked to forgive myself for having been scared for so long, not accepting the love that James had been offering me so freely.
I regret that I hadn't been able to. With all that I am, I regret that. He gave me a gift he'll never know he gave. His death opened my heart and mind. I wanted to be a braver and stronger mother for my children. I wanted to be the kind of woman James would be proud of. That is why I planned this exit. That’s why I'm here right now, digging up dirt in a tidy row, planting lettuce and spinach. That’s why I am at this cabin, creating a makeshift home, with no intention of leaving—because I am stronger now.
Eventually, someone will find me. I just have this sinking feeling, but it's not gonna happen for a while. Also, I can't sit around fearing what will happen next. I'm choosing to live today to its fullest capacity. I'm choosing to kneel before a patch of earth and plant tiny seeds, knowing that whatever pokes out of the ground will be food that will nourish me.
Inside the cabin, I hear a baby crying. There are bassinets in the one room cabin, and I stand, wiping my hands on my long cotton nightgown, it's much too hot for the heavy clothes I wore back at the compound. Taking my trowel with me, I set it on the front porch, along with my gardening gloves and then step inside.
I'm barefoot and my feet pitter-patter against the worn wood floor.
"Is that you fussing, Jamie?" I ask my little girl. The moment we drove away from the compound I stopped calling her Harmony, the name her father gave her, and I started calling her Jamie. After her father, of course.
I sit on the single rocking chair in the house. The wicker seat had broken, but I patched it up and made a cushion for it. Thankfully I remembered my sewing kit and several yards of fabric when I packed the van.
I've also made curtains for the window. I know it could be seen as silly, to be setting up shop here like this, when the truth is I am trespassing, but I've always wanted to have a place of my own. I've never been able to do that as a sister-wife. I was the youngest of George's, and certainly not one with a very loud voice, considering the bedrest.
I lay my girl back in her bassinet. She'd only been napping for about half an hour, so I’m surprised she woke at all, but now that she's fed, along with her brothers, I bet she'll be out for at least a few hours. Then all three will wake up, crying again to nurse, but they'll be in bed for the rest of the night except for the feedings.