Chapter 50
Cash
No matter how many times I wake up in bed with Harper and my pack mates, the comfort of it never gets old. It’s a week since we gave her our marks now, and I can’t stop myself from staring at her as she sleeps.
She’s so beautiful, and even more so now that she has our marks. Sometimes it hits me all over again that she’s ours. That she’s here with us and staying for the long haul. Somehow, we got so damned lucky.
I nuzzle against her, my nose brushing the mostly healed mark. Harper shivers into the touch, waking up slowly. She must be able to sense the direction of my feelings through the bond we share now because she smiles.
“It’s not fair to wake me up so turned on like this,” she murmurs.
I chuckle, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “I can’t help it. When I sleep next to you, I wake up turned on, and I probably always will. You’re just going to have to deal with that, I’m afraid.”
She laughs, opening her eyes, waking up fully. “I’ll survive somehow, I’m sure.”
I give in to the urge to dip down and kiss her, lingering with our mouths pressed together just because I can. Harper hums into it, reaching up to thread fingers into my hair, and we stay like that for a while, enjoying the moment.
“There’s something else on your mind,” she says when I finally pull back. “I can feel it.”
She’s right about that, and I take a breath, letting it out.
“It’s just that I used to spend so much time wondering ‘what if’, you know?
What if I had left town to pursue my dreams instead of staying home to take care of my mom.
I don’t regret staying, of course. That was something I was happy to do.
But sometimes I used to think of how different my life would have been if I didn’t have to make the choice. ”
“Do you still think about it?” Harper asks.
I shake my head. “I’ve realized that I didn’t have to go anywhere to have all my dreams come true.”
Her answering smile is radiant, and I can tell that she’s touched by that. Considering she’s a part of all those dreams being realized, I’m glad she knows it.
When she leans up for another kiss, I meet her halfway. This one is deeper, and her hands stroke down my back as she makes soft sounds into it. I let my hands wander as well, skimming over her soft, sleep warm skin with reverence in my touch that I hope she can feel.
Everett stirs on Harper’s other side, blinking open one eye to watch us. When I pull away, he tugs Harper over to kiss her good morning as well, and then Lincoln does the same when he wakes up. We’ve done this every morning since getting back from the hospital, and it never gets old.
Everett and Lincoln touch her too, not with the intent to start anything, just for the pleasure of touching her. She presses into each touch happily, kissing each of us back and basking in the attention.
“I can’t wait until I have two working hands again,” Lincoln murmurs sleepily. “This one is being deprived of being able to touch you.”
Harper snorts. “You keep that sling on,” she says archly.
“I know, I know.”
He’s recovering well, all things considered, and once his shoulder is healed, he’ll be starting physical therapy to regain the mobility he’s lost. It’ll be good for him to be able to function properly again and get back to work, even though I know he doesn’t regret getting in the way of that shot for a second.
Everett rolls Harper onto her back, and she makes a little noise of surprise before laughing softly. “Good morning to you too,” she says.
“Good morning,” he replies. “Are you ready to do this?”
Her eyes light up, like maybe she forgot what today is, and her smile is blinding. “Yes. I’m so ready. Let’s go already.”
I laugh, swinging out of the bed to get this show on the road.
We get dressed and start heading downstairs together. I’m in the hallway when Cora’s door opens, and she peeks out into the hall to see me standing there.
“Good morning, little star,” I say, grinning at her. “Ready for breakfast?”
She nods eagerly, and I hold out my hand to take her down with me.
“Waffle?” she asks as we walk into the kitchen.
“Hm, maybe. What else, do you think?”
“Cheese.”
“Waffles and cheese?” Lincoln asks, looking up from the coffee maker. “Unconventional.”
Cora wrinkles her nose at the big word and then shakes her head. “Eggs too.” Like that should be obvious.
Everett snorts. “And now you’re getting sassed by a four year old. Deserved.”
It makes all of us feel happier than we know how to say to hear Cora starting to talk more. Her words are coming back more and more, and it’s clear that some of the trauma that led to her selective mutism is starting to fade.
It’ll never be truly gone, but Harper has been so good with her, and it makes the rest of us glad that we’ve provided a place where Cora feels safe enough to start to open up again.
I love Cora just as much as Harper, and at this point, I can’t picture my life without her.
“Waffles?” Cora says again, looking to Lincoln with those big eyes.
“Waffles,” he agrees, getting down the waffle iron and pulling out ingredients to make them.
Breakfast is a group effort, and half an hour later we’re all at the table with plates weighed down with waffles and cheesy eggs and bacon. Cora tucks in happily, her little legs swinging as she carefully pours syrup into each individual square on her waffle and then dips her eggs in them.
Harper watches her with that smile that means she’s overfull of emotion, and I nudge her gently, reminding her there’s something we need to tell the little girl.
She clears her throat. “Cora, do you want to go out after breakfast? We have a surprise for you.”
Cora’s head snaps up the way it always does when one of us mentions doing something nice for her, and her eyes get very big. She mouths the word ‘surprise’, and even though no sound comes out this time, we all get the picture of what she’s trying to say.
“Yup, a big surprise,” I tell her. “Once you finish up here and wash up and change, we’ll all head out.”
Never before has a four year old plowed through a plate of breakfast so quickly. She finishes her food in record time, despite Harper urging her to slow down so she doesn’t choke.
When her plate is clean, she hops down from her chair and runs up the stairs, her feet pounding as she heads for the bathroom to clean syrup off of her face and hands and brush her teeth.
“I can’t remember the last time I was that excited about anything,” Lincoln murmurs, sipping his coffee.
“Two days ago,” Everett says. “When you ate Harper out on the couch.”
Lincoln smiles like he’s enjoying that memory now. “I mean, she sat on my face. That was worth the excitement.”
“No argument from me.” Everett lifts his hands in a gesture of peace. His eyes skate over Harper as she cuts the last of her waffle and eats it, watching as she licks syrup from her lips.
“Don’t get any ideas,” Harper says, pointing her fork at him. “We have an excited kid to take somewhere. Don’t think she’s just going to sit quietly and wait now that we’ve gotten her riled up.”
As if to illustrate the point, Cora calls, “Surprise!” from the top of the stairs, letting us know she hasn’t forgotten and is basically ready to go.
“I would never keep her waiting,” Everett says, and even though it’s mostly teasing right now, I’ve known him long enough to hear the sincerity there.
Harper must hear it too, or sense it through the bond, because her smile softens. “I know.”
Once we’re all dressed and ready to go, we pile into the truck and drive over to the farm where Bessie lives. Cora recognizes it, and immediately gets even more excited to be there.
We walk through the field to the fence line, and Harper bends down to Cora’s level.
“We know how much you love Bessie,” she starts. “And how you always want to come visit with her. Her owner is downsizing, selling off some of his animals, so we bought Bessie. She’s going to come live with us.”
Cora’s eyes go so wide they take up half of her face. She stares at Harper like she’s trying to figure out if she’s serious, and then she claps her hands with delight.
“Promise?” she asks.
“Promise,” Harper replies.
Cora runs over to the fence where Bessie is grazing and holds her hand out, murmuring softly to the cow.
Harper stands up, and I notice her eyes are wet. I walk over to her and brush her tears away. “You’re amazing with her,” I say. “And all the growth she’s had is a testament to how good you are.”
“You guys have helped more than you know,” she replies, leaning into me.
We make arrangements with Billy to borrow one of his trailers so we can get Bessie home, and a couple hours later, we’re driving the new addition to our home back to get her settled.
I hum under my breath as I drive, and Harper glances over from the passenger seat.
“What is that?” she asks. “I don’t recognize it.”
“Just something I’ve been working on.”
“You’re writing songs again?”
I shrug. “When the mood strikes me.”
What I don’t tell her is that she and Cora have inspired me more than I have been in a long time, so this song is for the two of them.