44. Savannah
44
SAVANNAH
The lingering aftermath of that harrowing night still haunts me. I can’t help but think of Kayla. The girl always sensed her mother was cold toward her, and she hadn’t spent a lot of time with her, but there’s a lot that Kayla will have to grapple with. Fabian, now freed from the looming custody battle, has vowed to support Kayla’s healing in every way he can. Despite his generally irksome nature, he proves himself a dedicated father in these trying times.
Meanwhile, the menace of the Blackwater Brutes has been eradicated for good. The sole remaining member, who was merely a courier for a ransom note intended for Fabian, was arrested by state troopers the day after he completed his delivery. It’s a small victory in the wake of such a nightmare.
Juliet’s extensive fraud now falls under the scrutiny of the FBI, as her illicit activities reached across states from California to Washington. The depth of her deception remains to be fully uncovered, but I suspect the revelations will be far from benign. She had been underestimated by everyone. If only she had chosen to channel her intelligence and cunning toward something positive .
Today, I’ve finally been cleared to leave the hospital. Despite the fractures in several bones of my left foot and my heart condition prompting extended observation, I’m ready to go home. Ever the attentive partner, Huxley has been mindful and sweet, practically wrapping me in cotton wool.
“You okay?” he asks as he extends the crutch toward me.
“Yeah, I’ve got this,” I assure him, gripping the crutch and making my way toward the house. If I’m honest, his presence steadies me more than the crutch itself.
“ Mama Saltamontes !” Rodolfo’s voice carries across the yard, easing the ache in my bones. He rushes to me, his eyes flickering with concern and mischief. The nickname, Grasshopper Mom, brings a smile to my face—it harks back to the days at Mitchell Ranch, when I was as jumpy, in a good way, as the critters themselves.
“Easy there,” I chuckle, balancing myself with a hand on his small shoulder. His embrace is cautious, mindful of my condition, yet filled with the unrestrained affection only a child can show.
Rodolfo steps back, his gaze dropping to my swollen foot, which is now securely wrapped in a medical brace. His lips twitch into a grin, teasing.
I roll my eyes, but laughter bubbles up inside me. “Oh, come on. It’s not that bad, is it?” I tease back, shifting slightly to give my foot an exaggerated flourish.
“Looks like a burrito in there.” He pokes lightly at the brace.
“Just one?” I quip, leaning against the doorframe. “Feels like I got the whole enchilada platter down there.”
He laughs, a rich, rolling sound that fills the space between us with something light. “Well, at least you will not be hungry.”
I shake my head, the corners of my mouth lifting in spite of the ache. “You’re impossible,” I say, though my tone is affectionate.
Rodolfo’s smile mellows, his hand reaching out to squeeze mine, mimicking Huxley. With a final glance, he steps aside, making room for my dad, who has been watching us with a patient smile.
“ Saltamontes .” Dad pulls me into an embrace, his kiss landing like a feather on my forehead.
“Do I remind you of someone?” I nudge him with a wink.
Dad chuckles, the sound rich with nostalgia. He’s undoubtedly recalling the times he stubbornly used a crutch, disliking the feel of his prosthetic. Those days are behind him, thanks to the replacement Dr. Palmer crafted, which he still boasts about from time to time.
Dad and Rodolfo head toward the kitchen, their voices fading into the clatter of cups, leaving me and Huxley alone in the quiet hallway. Huxley adjusts his pace to mine as I hobble along with my crutch. Upon reaching the stairs, his hands cradle me, lifting me effortlessly.
“You’re my prisoner now,” he declares.
I extend my wrists toward him. “Cuff me, officer.”
Resting his head on my chest, he stifles his laughter while carrying me toward our bedroom. Just as he’s about to place me on the bed, I stop him.
“Can you stay like this, please?” I ask.
“You like it?” he murmurs, tightening his hold as if confirming that he’s cradling me protectively. “Like this?”
“Yeah. I love the sensation of being rescued by you,” I murmur.
I wish he understood how I felt when he scooped me out of that rusted freezer and held me close. It was as if God had sent his mightiest angel, wrapping me in a sheltering embrace—wings like the softest feathers, arms radiating strength .
He nods in understanding. “No more ‘I’m fine, Hux,’ or ‘I’ve got this, Hux’?” he playfully prods.
“No, no more.” Resisting love is pointless when he’s by my side. “I really like it here, in your arms.”
He leans down to steal a kiss. Just as Rodolfo’s footsteps echo on the stairs, he lowers me onto the bed, then drapes a blanket over me, tucking it in. The kid bursts into the room, presenting me with a cup of tea.
“ Gracias, cari?o ,” I thank him, setting it on the bedside table.
The boy replies, his energy undiminished, “Pop-pop and I are going to the shop.” He delights in calling my dad ‘pop-pop.’ He told me it rhymed with ‘Bon Bon Bum Bubble Gum Pops,’ a well-known Colombian candy brand. The call brings a smile to Dad’s face every time.
Rodolfo adds, “We will buy flowers for you!”
Dad appears in the doorway, his expression theatrically dismayed. “Hey, it was supposed to be a secret.”
“But you said she likes flowers,” Rodolfo protests, a picture of confused innocence.
“Yeah, so we surprise her,” Dad replies, the amusement clear in his voice despite the feigned exasperation.
“Oh…” Rodolfo’s disappointment at his slip turns into a shared chuckle with Dad, and then they’re off, leaving the house quieter.
“He’s a good kid,” I comment.
Huxley nods. “Wait for it, Sav. Wait for it.” A lopsided smile forms on his handsome face.
I’m well aware of how children can test you. But I’m already in love with Rodolfo. Nothing can sway my decision now.
My eyes roam around my bedroom, stretching a bit. “ Thank goodness. I’m gonna sleep in here tonight.” I tap the mattress and hug my pillow.
It appears that he’s taking it as a hint. “Would you like to have the whole bed for yourself?” he queries, considerate, sweet. “It’s okay if you do, I’m happy to?—”
“Of course not!”
“I mean, not because I’m suspecting you might pregnant-hate me—because I know you won’t. But I understand if you need space. Literally.”
I cock my head. “Is this daddy thing making you go over the top on me?”
“No. No. I’m just… I’m just thinking about you.”
Doubly sweet, like the fruity jam hidden within the silky, pillowy dough.
“Please, I want to sleep with you,” I make it clear. “I promise, I won’t be the pregnant partner who looks to pick a fight with you for no reason.”
Hux chuckles. Triple sweet with a cherry on top. “Look, Sav. I’m taking extended leave from Red Mark,” he announces. “I’m going to be with you around the clock?—”
The cherry topples over. “Hux, that’s definitely over the top!” I interject.
He sighs. “Doesn’t take long for your stubborn streak to return. I thought you liked me playing the hero.”
My lips twist as I’m torn between two minds.
“No argument, missy.” He places a hand on my belly. “Until your nightmares stop, and I don’t have to worry anymore, I’ll be playing nurse.” He moves his other hand to rest over my heart, where my pulse has been unsteady since the hospital stay.
“All right,” I concede, a small smile creeping up. Being around my Hugs, with his irresistibly handsome face and caring demeanor, is bound to speed up my recovery .
“You know Juliet’s death isn’t your fault,” he reassures me.
“I know. It’s just… how it all happened,” I admit. “I can’t get it out of my head.”
He leans in and kisses my forehead. “We’ll get through this together.”
I nod, squeezing his hand. “Hey, Fabian asked for my help with Kayla. She seems all right, but he thinks she might need a bit more support. She’s in therapy and all, but sometimes, a good friend is what you really need.”
“That sounds like a great idea,” Hux responds.
“He made it clear it’ll just be Kayla and me. No funny business,” I add, watching for his reaction.
“Good,” he agrees, his fingers lightly tracing my belly. “Just promise me you won’t overdo it.”
I lean closer and kiss him. “I hope that limitation only applies to work, not play?”
He appraises me, his eyes soft, an inexplicable response.
“Hux, you’re acting strange,” I remark. What kind of ‘soft’ thoughts could he possibly have in his mind? But then, there’s something else flickering behind those striking brown eyes, something I can’t quite pinpoint.
He shifts his gaze away from me, then returns, a finger trailing up and down my arm. “There’s something else I wanted to ask you. It’s been burning in my head.”
Is he going to propose to me? His hands are steady, no telltale fidgeting or nervous tics. I glance at his pockets, expecting to see a small bulge from a ring box, but they’re empty.
“Yeah?” I drawl.
“Speaking about play…” He leans closer to my ear, rasping, “I would love to watch you.”
His voice is too erotic for me to misinterpret it. Turns out his request is anything but soft.
Realizing I’m not responding, he cancels out his intention, “ Well, it’s perfectly fine if you’d rather not or if you prefer to wait until the baby arrives.”
“Why would I want to wait?” My lips move right on his earlobe. “If you pull down my pants right now and give me a bit of inspiration, I will show you.”
“Jesus, Sav.” He gulps, fingers slipping beneath the blanket, searching for the waistband of my trousers.
Suddenly, we hear the front door opening. Dad and Rodolfo have returned. Hux and I exchange glances, unable to contain our giggles.
He chuckles and says, “Well, this is definitely something I didn’t think about when I agreed to have kids.”
I raise my brows. I guess I hadn’t, either. But it’s all worth it, as I welcome Rodolfo, who has sprinted up the stairs, rushing to me with a bunch of summer blooms.
“ Gracias , Rodolfo, son hermosas ,” I kiss his cheek.
“Pop-pop bought ice cream for me. Can I have now?” he asks.
“Of course, go on,” I say and nudge him to join my dad downstairs.
Hux smiles and pulls me into his arms. We enjoy a quiet moment before I let out a contented sigh. “I can’t believe I’m a mom now and about to be all over again so soon,” I whisper, awed by the rapid changes. “An eight-year-old, huh?”
“Welcome to the club,” Huxley says with a chuckle, his hand warm on my belly.
“I’ll love him as much as I love our own child, Hux. I promise.”
“Our child?” he corrects, arching an eyebrow. “You mean our children?”
We burst into laughter, slipping deeper under the covers.
As Huxley’s laughter subsides, I lean in closer, drawn to his lips. It’s a deep, fervent kiss filled with all the emotions that are burning in me for him.
This moment, so raw and pure, is a testament to the unexpected turns life can take. It’s a miracle, really, how plans unravel and reshape, yet, through it all, if there’s love—if your actions stem from the heart—then somehow, you find the strength to adjust. You rise to meet the needs of those who depend on you, and you cherish those you hold dear with every fiber of your being.
My life’s trajectory altered the day I met Huxley, impeccable in his suit, while I rode on horseback, feeling elevated yet on par with him. Our journey together advanced with the kind of swift, unstoppable force. Lying here beside him, feeling the promise of our growing family beneath my hand, I swear I wouldn’t want it any other way. This spontaneous unfolding of life—messy, beautiful, and utterly perfect in its chaos—is exactly how I want to continue.
I’m truly complete.