Chapter Fifty Six
Mama
T he moment we step through the door, the nurse bustles toward us. Her eyes widen at the sight of Aurora, red-faced and softly wheezing in Kade’s arms, but she doesn’t panic. Her hands are steady. Her voice is calm.
I’m jealous.
“Let me take her, please,” she says gently.
Kade hesitates for half a second before handing our daughter over, his arms shaking. I don’t think he realizes how close he is to collapsing.
The nurse smiles, kind but firm. “Just give us a minute to assess. This clinic is small, tiny rooms, tight spaces. I promise we’ll get your family back together soon.”
And then she’s gone, our daughter disappearing through the swinging doors.
My heart pounds in my chest, my ears, my throat.
I thought coming here would be unbearable. That the second I stepped through the doors I’d be haunted by the images of a family I’ve never met.
But all I can think about is Aurora.
Her little body pressed against Kade’s. Her frantic gasps, her swollen lip, the angry red patch spreading over her soft skin. How she screamed until her voice cracked.
She looked at me like I could make it better, and I couldn’t. Not fast enough. Not this time.
I don’t even realize I’m crying until Kade’s in front of me, his calloused hands cradling my face. He tips my chin up, those stormy-gray eyes locked on mine.
“She’s going to be okay, darlin’,” he says, throat bobbing. “We're all going to be okay.”
And it's the sound of that nickname on his rasping voice that makes my knees give out. Kade catches me around the waist and picks me up, before sitting in a chair with me in his lap.
All the pain from the last few weeks comes tumbling out. All the hurt and fear and longing. He holds me, rocking me softly, whispering reassurances only loud enough for me to hear.
When I finally pull myself together enough to meet his eyes, I'm shocked to see him crying too.
“I’m so sorry,” I choke out.
He shakes his head, brushing my tears away with his thumb. “Nothing to be sorry for, baby.”
“Yes,” I argue, gripping his forearm for all I'm worth. “I fucked up. I left when I should have listened.”
“Maybe,” he murmurs, brows tight. “But there’s so much I should have told you. So much about my past with Marlee. It wasn’t good, Georgia. I’m so sorry you thought I was still…” Exhales roughly, jaw ticking, and I want to interrupt, but I need this, and I think he does too.
With a sigh, he grips my neck, fingers tangling in my hair and hugs me tight to his chest.
“Marlee used me for a long fuckin’ time.
Used me to feel like she had a family. Used me to fulfill some fantasy she had.
Convinced me to join the military–something I never wanted till she came along.
And when I was away, she was using my checks to fund her escape plan.
Thought she was paying for college, or fuck, I don’t know, preparing for our life together.
But she was paying for a life far away from me. ”
He sucks in a shuddering breath.
“And yeah, when I got her letter, it fucked me up. I lost my head. Couldn't see through the shit raining down around me. I was young and stupid and stubborn. And no, it's not all her fault, but I need you to know that the love I felt for her was nothing compared to what I feel for you. Nothing .”
He swallows hard, a choked, broken sound that has me wrapping my arms around him and tugging him into me.
He left his Stetson in the truck, so I smooth his dark wild hair out of his eyes—hair that reminds me so much of our daughter’s.
“There’s something else…something I should have told you months ago, but fuck, I didn’t know how. Wanted to forget it all, but…”
“It’s okay,” I whisper, kissing his cheek, his jaw, his temple. “It’s okay, Kade.”
“It’s not, though.”
I wipe away his tears as he blinks up at me.
“Aurora…she…Ethel said someone hurt her, baby. Hurt her before she was ours.”
My breath catches, and the room spins.
“What?”
He nods sadly. “Few broken bones, some scars, but only one hospital visit.”
I pull back, eyes narrowed and shake my head. “That wasn’t… that… when I did the intake… when I talked to the hospital…”
He pulls me in and kisses my forehead. “I know. Ethel had to dig. But it's more. Marlee and Travis, they were drunk the day of the accident. No signs of swerving or anything. They… they did it on purpose. And they could have…”
“Could have killed Aurora,” I hiss, anger and venom splitting me open. “Jesus, Kade. That’s….”
I run a shaking hand through my hair and shove off his lap, pacing through the waiting room. “How dare they!”
“I know,” he murmurs, watching me process, watching me fall the fuck apart. “How fucking dare they do that to her! To our daughter!”
I’m spiraling. My words are a mess. I’m crying and cursing and shaking.
After a few minutes, Kade steps into my path and blocks my even strides.
“What the hell, you brooding tree!” I half-sob, half-shout, swatting at him.
He drags me into him and chuckles softly, but it’s full of tears. “You called Aurora our daughter.”
“Well, she is!” I snap, meaning it with my whole heart. My shoulders fall as I stare up at him, the weight of everything pressing in on me. “She is. Right?”
He nods slowly. “Yeah, baby. That’s your little girl in there.”
“And you?” I whisper, throat tight. “Are you…”
“Yours? Yeah, Georgia. I’m yours.” Bending down, he ghosts his lips over mine. “For the rest of your life, so you better get used to planting roots. I’ve got a whole farm waiting for you to grow.”
“But only Archers grow on Honey Bea,” I breathe against his mouth, shivering violently, heart battering between us.
“ Exactly .” And then he’s kissing me.
God, does he kiss me.
It’s fierce and tender, desperate and healing. My hands bury in his hair as he presses me into the clinic wall, pouring every unsaid word into my mouth. It’s a kiss that steals my breath, that strips away every doubt I’ve ever had. His body is solid and warm and home.
My soul sings and my heart shatters and remakes itself with every brush of his lips.
Someone clears their throat, and we reluctantly break apart, breathless, dazed.
“Good to see you again, Kade,” an older woman says kindly, wearing a white lab coat and a knowing smile.
He straightens, keeping one arm around me. “Nice to see you, Glenda.”
“Aurora’s fine,” she assures us quickly, like she knows we can’t stand another second without news. “It’s a mild bee allergy. We treated her with epinephrine and an oral antihistamine, and she responded well. Given where you live, I’d recommend keeping an EpiPen on hand, just in case.”
Relief makes my knees weak.
She glances between us, then rests her eyes on me. “Sorry, Kade. I haven’t met your wife yet.”
I open my mouth to correct her, but Kade beats me to it.
“Glenda, this is Georgia,” he says softly. “My everything.”
She visibly melts, and I get it. Kade has that effect.
“Well then,” she smiles. “Come on, Archers. Let’s go see your girl. Saw her outfit. Seems like she had a hell of a first birthday.”
My breath catches at the reminder, and Kade squeezes my hand, smiling down at me. “We’ve got a lifetime to make it up to her.”
My heart is still in my throat as I step into the room and lock eyes with our now much more aware daughter, who thrusts her tiny, chubby arms up at me with a drowsy, pained sob.
“Mama!”
And just like that… I know.
Every wish I’ve ever made has come true.