Montana Haven: A Small Town Surprise Pregnancy Romance

12. ~ Mia ~

The sun was high, casting long shadows across the ranch, as I stood with bean bags in hand, facing Emily and Dylan on the opposite end of the cornhole field.

What is supposed to be an enjoyable hot summer”s day seems to be chilled by the silence of Dylan and Emily, who appear to be the only children at Beartooth Ranch missing a smile.

The air was filled with the distant sounds of laughing children, chattering adults, and the occasional whinnying of horses, creating a backdrop to what should have been a regular, joyous afternoon. But today, the atmosphere was tinted with an undertone of worry that weighed heavily on my heart.

It had been a few days since we”d shared the news of the pregnancy with Dylan and Emily. A silence had since settled over both of them. A silence so profound and out of character that it left me second-guessing every decision we”d made.

Dylan, usually bursting with questions and stories, had become quiet, his energy dialed down to a soft murmur.

Even Emily, who often shined with sparkling eyes of excitement, seemed to retreat into a shell of introspection. Their reactions, or rather the lack thereof, echoed in my mind, breeding a garden of doubts.

We were right in the middle of our game, the sun warm on our backs, yet the chill of worry refused to leave me. ”Nice shot, Dylan!” I exclaimed, as his bean bag landed squarely in the middle of the board, trying to inject a bit of excitement into my voice.

He offered me a small smile, one that didn”t quite reach his eyes, before retreating back into silence. Emily followed her future brother”s lead, her throws careful and precise, but without the usual gleeful commentary that accompanied our games.

The game progressed, the soft clinks and thuds of the bean bags punctuating the air between us. Each toss I made was accompanied by an overly enthusiastic commentary, a feeble attempt to pierce the bubble of quiet that enveloped Dylan and Emily.

”Watch this one, Emily! I”m aiming for the left corner!” I declared, my bean bag arcing through the air, only to land with an unceremonious thud just short of the board. I laughed at my own miss, hoping to coax out their smiles or perhaps a chuckle, but was met with polite smiles that barely lasted.

”Your turn, Emily. Think you can beat that stellar performance?” I nudged, my voice laced with playful sarcasm and warmth. She stepped forward, her concentration evident as she sized up her shot.

The bean bag sailed from her hand, landing precisely near the center of the board, a testament to her skill even in silence. ”Nice shot!” I applauded, yet the words felt hollow, bouncing off an invisible wall of introspection she and Dylan had built around themselves.

I glanced at Dylan, who had been quietly observing, and clapped my hands lightly. ”Your move, champ.” He looked up, his eyes locking with mine for a moment, and I saw a flicker of the boy who would usually regale us with tales of heroic cowboys and fantasy rodeos as he played.

Today, however, he simply nodded, took his stance, and threw. His bean bag landed impeccably close to Emily”s, a silent statement of sibling rivalry that barely stirred the surface of our interactions.

As we continued, I kept the conversation light, sprinkling in stories of past games and playful taunts, hoping to weave them back into the familiar fabric of banter and laughter.

Yet, each attempt felt like throwing pebbles into a deep well, the echoes faint and unreturned. Dylan and Emily”s responses were short, their engagement fleeting.

They participated, yes, but their joy seemed to have been left behind, shadowed by the news that had so profoundly unsettled them.

My efforts to spark a conversation, to reignite the gleeful spirit that usually surrounded such games, dwindled, as I faced the reality of their withdrawn demeanor. The weight of their silence was a tangible presence, a barrier that my words alone could not dismantle.

At that moment, I realized that perhaps what Dylan and Emily needed was not forced cheerfulness or attempts to gloss over their emotions but the space to process and come to terms with the changes on their own terms.

With each toss, my heart grew heavier, my mind racing with what-ifs and maybes. Could the news of the baby have unsettled them more than we”d thought?

Were they feeling replaced, overshadowed by the impending arrival of a new sibling? Jake”s words from the other night echoed in my mind, offering a beacon of hope in the storm of my worries. Together, there”s nothing we can”t face.

But at this moment, the togetherness felt fragile, threatened by the unspoken fears of a sister and brother trying to find their footing in this new reality.

I wanted to bridge the gap, to draw out their thoughts and fears, to reassure them that nothing could diminish the love we held for them.

”Hey, guys...” I began, setting down the remaining bean bags and squatting down to their level. ”You know, no matter what, you two are still critical to Jake and I. Nothing”s going to change that. Not now, not ever.”

My voice trembled slightly with emotion, my gaze flitting between them, desperate for a sign, any sign, that my words were making a difference.

The children just nod after exchanging a quiet glance before it”s Dylan”s turn to throw the beanbag. I feel less confident by their silence, and it just makes me even more panicked.

I take a deep breath, trying to steady the whirlwind of thoughts spinning through my mind. The silence from Emily and Dylan weighs heavily on me, sparking a twinge of anger towards Jake.

Why did he push so insistently for us to tell the kids so early?

We ourselves are still trying to come to terms with the shock of this sudden pregnancy, grappling with our own mix of fears and excitement. It seems unfair, now, to have expected them to understand and adapt overnight.

I glance towards the lodge where Jake is, half-expecting Jake to come out and offer some form of support, a helping hand in navigating this delicate situation.

But the door remains closed, and I feel a rush of frustration. We”re meant to be in this together, yet here I am, floundering, trying to reassure our children when I am filled with doubts.

How are we supposed to present a united front when I feel so utterly alone in this moment?

”Maybe it wasn”t such a good idea telling them this early after all.”

As Mia”s words hit me like a cold splash of water, I can”t help but feel torn between my excitement for our future and the reality of our current situation. It”s not that I don”t understand where she”s coming from. I do. It”s just that every fiber of my being is buzzing with the anticipation of becoming a father, of building our new life together in Pine Creek. The morning sickness has started and has been tough on Mia, and I”ve been doing everything I can to support her—fetching ginger tea at odd hours, ensuring she”s comfortable in the guest room at the ranch whenever she needs time to herself, and taking on more responsibilities so she can rest.

But even in the midst of all this, the thought of our growing family fills me with a profound sense of purpose and joy.

”I just think you”re letting the momentary mood of the children cloud your vision, Mia,” I say, my voice tinged with a hint of frustration. ”They”re kids. They adapt. They”ll come around when they see what a great little brother or sister they”re going to have.”

Mia”s expression hardens, her eyes flashing with a mix of hurt and anger. ”That”s just it, Jake. You”re already picturing the baby in our lives, but have you stopped to consider how Dylan and Emily truly feel? We sprung this on them. They need time...and empathy. Not dismissal.”

I can see Jake”s frustration building like storm clouds on the horizon, his usually calm demeanor giving way to a restless energy. ”Jake,” I try again, my voice steadier than I feel, ”this isn”t just about adapting. It”s about their feelings, their worlds being turned upside down. They”ve only just gotten used to the idea of us, and now we’re introducing another major change.”

He paces back and forth, the floorboards creaking under his boots, a physical manifestation of his growing agitation. ”I get that, Mia. I really do. But life is about change. And yes, it”s hard and messy, but that’s how we grow. I thought you would understand that,” he retorts, each word sharper than the last.

The accusation stings, and I can feel the defensive walls rising. ”Understanding it doesn”t make it any less tough on them, Jake. Or on us,” I counter, struggling to keep my voice calm. ”We must approach this as a team, considering all perspectives, not just bulldozing through with what we think is best.”

Jake stops pacing and looks at me, his expression a mix of exasperation and sorrow. ”Isn”t that what I”m trying to do? Build something for us? For our future?” His voice cracks slightly, betraying the emotion he”s fought so hard to keep at bay.

The depth of his frustration and fear becomes painfully clear to me. It”s not just about the kids adapting. It”s about us navigating this new reality together, without losing sight of each other”s needs and fears. ”I know, Jake,” I say softly, my heart aching for the both of us.

”I want that future too, more than anything. But not at the expense of our family feeling like they were left behind in the process. We need to find a way to bring them along with us, not drag them kicking and screaming.”

There”s a long, heavy silence between us as the weight of my words settles in the air. Jake”s shoulders slump slightly, and he lets out a long breath, the fight draining out of him. My words sting, but he”s finally understanding.

”You”re right,” he finally admits, his voice barely above a whisper. ”I”ve been so caught up in the excitement that I”ve lost sight of how this is affecting everyone. Not just us.”

The tension begins to ebb away, replaced by a fragile sense of understanding. We”re in this together, facing the challenges as a united front, even when the path forward seems daunting and fraught with uncertainty.

In his rush to embrace the future, he had glossed over the immediate worries and adjustments our family needs to make. Dylan and Emily, with their silent glances and subdued moods, had communicated their unease, and there he was, steamrolling over their feelings in his own enthusiasm.

Taking a deep breath, he moves closer to me, his tone softening. ”You”re right. I got so caught up in how amazing this is for us that I forgot how big of a change this is for them, too. I”m sorry, Mia. We”ll do this together, and we”ll make sure Dylan and Emily feel just as much a part of this as we are.”

My gaze softens, and he can see the exhaustion mixed with relief in my eyes. ”We need to be a team in this, Jake. All of us. That includes understanding and addressing the children”s feelings, not just our own.”

He nods, the weight of my words settling in his heart. ”You”re right. We”ll talk to them, explain things better, and make sure they know they”re an essential part of this new chapter. I may have been overzealous, but I promise to be more considerate, more in tune with what our family needs.”

It”s a promise he intends to keep, not just for me or the baby, but for Dylan and Emily too. A promise that I not only believe but will make sure he upholds when it comes to the best interests of the children. I can”t just selfishly think about Emily or the baby, but Dylan as well, if I”m going to be a mother figure in his life.

I have to view him as one of my own as well and with that, I will make sure that he”s comfortable along every step of the way. Jake holds me close against him. Being in his arms has become my safe space.

I”m glad we were able to smooth this out because Jake can usually become undeterred and stubborn in arguments, sometimes wielding a ”whatever I say, goes” kind of mindset. Something that will also have to change if I am to be his partner in this now combined journey together in life.

”I”m sorry, Mia. I promise to do better...” he murmurs, while pressing soft kisses along my neck. I shiver in delight at the feeling, which encourages him to continue doing it before he”s slightly pulling back to stare into my eyes. He leans in, capturing my awaiting lips with his to give him a passionate, slow kiss that begins to pick up as the seconds pass by.

The kiss deepens, our breaths intertwining as if trying to merge our very essences. His hands wander up my back, fingers tracing the spine with a tenderness that sends shivers cascading down my body.

I find my hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, as if distance were our enemy. The world around us fades to a mere backdrop, inconsequential to the intensity of our connection. Suddenly, the air seems charged with electricity, every touch amplified, every sensation magnified.

Our hearts beat in synchrony, a testament to the passion that has always simmered beneath the surface, now boiling over. Jake”s kiss is a promise, a vow without words, speaking directly to my soul. In this moment, we are not just two people in love - we are a force of nature, as unstoppable as the tide.

”Is the door locked?” I finally ask him between heated kisses when his hand goes down to the strap of my sundress to play with it.

”Of course it is.” He grins mischievously at me as my eyes raise in curiosity.

”Oh? Were you planning something like this to happen?”

”Not really but you can never be too careful,” he admits, while pulling me even closer to him, picking me up to carry me until I”m pinned against the wall with my legs wrapped around his waist. Our kisses return, this time filled with plenty of tongues, as he impatiently fumbles with his belt buckle.

He finally gets it unbuckled and immediately begins to unbutton and unzip his pants, pulling them down to his knees as his boxers get pulled down next. He grabs his manhood to stroke a few times before positioning it at my opening after he’s pushed my panties to the side.

We both moan in bliss at that first thrust when he enters me slowly, almost carefully, while maintaining my balance between him and the wall. His hands grip the back of my thighs to steady himself before he slides in and out of me, our lips ensnared in a passionate dance that follows each other’s rhythm.

Each thrust seems to melt away my fear, replacing it with hope for our future and our new family. That the baby will get here, and our children will be all too thrilled and excited over their new sibling. That everything will be okay after all.

“Oh Jake,” I moan against his lips as my back embeds into the green and gold plaid wallpaper, while he concentrates on taking away my worries to replace them with nothing but pleasure in this moment. He grunts lowly in response, trying to make sure we keep it down since we’re in a public place, no matter if we are confined in a private room.

He licks my lips before kissing them while I hang onto his neck with my arms as the force of his thrusts causes me to bounce up and down in the air while he keeps a firm grip on me. I get lost in his eyes, falling into the moment, and believing in him as well as his words.

He seems so confident about everything regarding the children, the baby, and our future. I should try to put a little more faith in him and not so much into my worries and fears.