The biggest snowmobile sat in disarray with a smattering of grease-smeared parts lying around it, and the hood was up to expose its inner workings. The barn was warmer than outside, but not by much. Lazy snowflakes fell, but by mid-afternoon, the big storm was supposed to hit. Aanon stood with his back to her, cleaning a long, hollow metal tube. His triceps flexed against his fitted, thermal sweater, and the edge of the tattoo she found so seductive, peeked out of his shirt as it had on the first day she'd arrived. A smile stretched her face, and the gesture settled her roiling stomach. By plane, she was a day and a half away from Miles, and he hated flying. Aanon was here, real, steadfast, and the baby was growing and moving as it should. She'd been promoted by Briney, and everything would work out.
Aanon turned fiery eyes on the doorway, and he froze when he saw her. "You okay?"
She handed him the phone and nodded. "I think so. It was scary, but I feel relieved that it's done. I'm not hiding anymore, so the weight of that secret has lifted." There was still the secret of she and Aanon's growing relationship, but baby steps.
Wiping his hands on a rag, he said, "I'm proud of you."
"Yeah?"
"When you first showed up, you were running from the problem, and it dragged you down. Now look at you. You're free from it."
"Not exactly. Erin called a few times while I was on the phone, but I didn't pick up."
His light brows fell as he studied the screen. "Usually when she calls a lot without leaving a voicemail, she really wants to bawl me out for something."
"You want me to leave?"
She turned to do so, but he shook his head. "Nah. It wouldn't kill her to learn some patience. You want to talk about the phone call?"
Lifting a new rag, she picked a part and began rubbing it down. "He thought I was Victoria at first."
"His wife?"
"No, his wife's name is Laura," she said with a significant look.
"Piece of work," he muttered with a look of disgust.
"Honestly, I was scared I'd still feel something for him. I was afraid if I talked to him, he'd reel me back in like he used to when we were fighting."
"But he didn't?"
With a shake of her head, she said, "I don't feel anything but disappointment about him now. Even if I just got closure on my feelings for him, the phone call was worth it." She set the snowmobile part down and picked up another to clean. "He wants to come visit and work things out in person."
The wooden shop table Aanon leaned on creaked under his weight. "How do you feel about him travelling here?"
"I asked him not to. I don't want to see him ever again. The baby and I are better off without someone like him in our lives."
His approach was slow, measured. "And what about a man like me?"
Stifling the shiver of pleasure that traveled up her spine, she set the part on the table and clutched onto the edges of his sweater. "You belong in it."
His hand cupped her cheek, and she couldn't find it in herself to care that she'd have smudges. Aanon Falk was looking at her like she was the most beautiful woman in the world, was staring at her lips like he couldn't wait to taste them.
"I wish-"
"Don't," she begged. "We can't change the way things happened. All we can do is focus on where we're going."
"Together?"
She smiled at the seriousness that pooled in the deep ocean color of his eyes. "Together."
Chapter Fifteen
The days that followed were long but pleasant. Along with blankets of snow, a quiet reverence fell over the homestead. Hours on end were spent in a chair, curtains pushed aside, watching the falling snow. The silence was the perfect music with which to make decisions. Farrah had made up her mind and couldn't seem to keep her hands from the curve of her growing belly. Every movement there told of a life, one that would be the most important thing she ever accomplished. She'd washed and folded soft blankets into the cradle, clipped coupons for diapers, and searched the newspaper for baby clothing sales in nearby Homer, and even as far as Anchorage.
She wasn't her mother. Believing that, knowing it, was such a certainty, she could let herself fall in love with her baby without fear. She'd made a budget and knew exactly how much she needed to put away for her maternity leave from Briney's. No matter what she had to do, she would make it work and provide a comfortable life for her tiny family. And she'd do it without Miles's money.
Pride surged within her the more solid her plans became. It didn't matter that she'd been raised without a father and grew up with a mother overflowing with her own demons. It didn't matter that she'd picked the wrong man. She was the person she was today because of her trials. Believing that brought her closure. She wouldn't take any of it back because she wouldn't be strong enough to weather what she had to now without those earlier struggles.
Aanon had taught her how to prepare for an Alaskan winter in ways Mom hadn't ever figured out. In the last couple of months, she'd learned more about survival than the rest of her years combined.
She sat up straighter in the chair when she saw Aanon. He carried two plates, steaming in the cold morning air as Bruno bounced beside him through the snow drifts. It had become a morning ritual that he took his breakfast with her.
His long legs didn't suffer the deep snow, and his hair whipped around his face. Under a forest green toboggan, his cheeks were red from the wind and made his eyes look even brighter.
Luna whined, and Farrah hurried to open the door so he wouldn't have to wait in the cold.
"Morning," he greeted just before he pressed his lips against hers. Crisp mint of toothpaste and the clean tang of shaving cream filled her senses.
A flood of warmth rushed her body despite the chill of the open door. "What did you bring me today?" she asked, lifting the foil cover on one of the plates.
Fried potatoes, buttered biscuits, eggs, and a thin strip of steak brought an instant rumble from her stomach.
"You know you're going to spoil me rotten, don't you?"
He laughed and set the plates down. "I'm not exactly able to take you on real dates. The best you get is mediocre food and company."
"I prefer this," she said quietly as she poured them both a cup of coffee.
"Do you really mean that?" he said, searching her face.
The flimsy chair groaned under the burden as she sat. "Of course. I did the late night scene and the big fancy dates in New York. It didn't feel as real as this, though. It didn't feel important."
A slow smile, one that showed a slight dimple in his left cheek, took his face, and he nodded as if he knew exactly what she meant.
When she couldn't eat another bite, Aanon finished her leftovers, and she shrugged into her jacket before pulling on thick, fur-lined snow boots. It was getting harder and harder to bend at the waist as her stomach grew. As much as she'd love to stay snuggled up and warm, the animals had to be fed and work performed around the homestead to keep it running.
When she turned for the door, Aanon, dressed and ready, held her pink toboggan and a pair of warm gloves. "You are ridiculously cute," he said, pulling her close and unfolding the snow hat for her. When he'd tugged it over her head, he leaned back to admire his work and tucked a rogue lock of hair behind her ear. "You make me feel like a lucky man, Farrah."
She shoved her hands in his pockets and melted into his hug. He didn't know it, but she was the lucky one.
By the time they left the warmth of the cabin, the cattle bellowed hungrily, and the two heavily furred horses, Milo and Tuck, nickered a greeting. Aanon patted her firmly on the bottom and offered her a smoldering grin before he headed toward the tractor. Snatching the bucket from the barn, she set out for the chicken coop, humming under her breath. The steam from each note mesmerized her so that she didn't notice anything amiss until she was standing inside the chicken wire. It was a large enclosure, half house, half yard, but none of the chickens had ventured out for food. They clucked and pecked around the nest boxes, but not even the sound of grain against the feed pale drew them outside. Bloody feathers lay strewn across the enclosure and against the fencing.
"Oh no," she whispered as a hole under the coop pulled her gaze. It was large, and when she took a head count inside, two chickens were missing. Shoving the bucket into the hole to block it, she latched the coop door and jogged for the cattle pen.
Aanon was unloading a bale of hay so she waited, hopping from foot to foot until he finished. When he passed through the gate, she closed it behind him so he didn't have to dismount, and he held out his hand.