Epilogue
TRAVIS
I pulled into the driveway and cut the engine. Normally, I’d hop out and rush inside, eager to see my wife and kids. But tonight, I stopped to count my blessings.
In front of me was the two-story log cabin I’d built with my own hands—well, with the help of my crew. I now had my own team, all living right here in Rosewood Ridge. No more waiting around for subcontractors to flake out. My crew got the job done.
But I was known to put in plenty of hours alone when I was building this house. I was often here well into the late evening hours. I was determined to get it built before we started trying to have a baby. Unfortunately—or fortunately, as the case may be—we’d conceived right here on this very site. Sierra visited me wearing only a tool belt, and I was so caught up in the moment, I didn’t even think about protection.
I smiled to myself as I climbed out of my work truck. I was smiling not just at the memories of our hot lovemaking session that day five years ago, but also at the thought of the son who came from it.
Tanner had shifted my perspective on life completely. When Serenity came along two years later, our family was complete. Or so we thought. Sierra had been talking lately about having more kids, and the idea was growing on me.
I could hear the chaos on the other side of the door as I stepped up on the porch. That brought a smile to my face too. I could barely remember the days of coming home to an empty cabin, sitting in front of the TV, and chugging a beer until it no longer mattered that nobody was home with me. Today, beers were rare, usually shared with my buddies when we met up at the small bar near the square.
“Daddy’s home!” Tanner shouted before I pushed open the door. He’d probably glimpsed my car from the window.
With an even bigger smile, I turned the knob and stepped inside. I was immediately attacked by two little bodies, followed by one furry, four-legged one. Our cavapoo, Molly, always wanted in on the action.
“Okay, kids, give Daddy some breathing room,” Sierra said.
She was standing in the doorway that separated the kitchen from the big den where our family spent most of our time. The kids moved away, Tanner running back to his play area and Serenity plopping down on the ground.
Molly didn’t get the memo. She kept jumping up on me until I reached down and petted her head. We tried to train that out of her, but it was so cute, we’d eventually given up.
“Rough day at work?” Sierra asked as I closed the door behind me and removed my jacket, hanging it on the hook next to the door.
I emptied my wallet and keys into the tray next to the coats, then crossed the room to her. I’d looked forward to hugging my wife all day.
“Nothing I couldn’t handle,” I said as I gave her a sweet “hello” kiss and pulled her toward me. When she wrapped her arms around my waist and pressed her body to mine, relief washed through me. We could be living in a tent in the middle of Rosewood Ridge Park, and I’d be happy as long as I had these three with me.
“I’m trying out a new recipe for the retreat center,” Sierra said. “Chicken à la Sierra.”
My eyebrows shot up as I stepped back to look at her. She wore an apron, and it reminded me of the waist apron she’d worn that day on the opposite corner of this floor from where we stood now. She’d worn that and nothing else as I stood behind her, cupping her breasts in my hands?—
I had to shove that thought aside. The last thing I needed was for my body to start revving up right now.
“Chicken à la Sierra,” I said. “I can’t wait to see what that is.”
Sierra was mostly a stay-at-home mom these days, but she’d gotten into baking and cooking lately. And the guests at the retreat center liked her food so much, Ashlynn now paid her to help cater various events. I’d already begun looking into the possibility of upgrading our kitchen when I got time between projects.
I was aiming my body for the kitchen, ready to change clothes, wash my hands, and pitch in to get dinner ready. But some nights, Sierra shook her head and pointed toward the recliner, insisting that I rest while she did all the work.
This was one of those nights. I felt her hand on my arm, and I stopped, turning to face her. She pointed toward the chair.
“I’ll bring you a beer,” she said.
She rose on tiptoe and kissed my cheek before heading back into the kitchen. I turned and watched as Serenity crawled toward the recliner. She’d want to sit in my lap tonight.
“Make that a sweet tea!” I called out to the kitchen.
Then I headed over to the chair, scooped up my toddler, and set her on my lap. I pulled the lever to pop out the recliner and smiled as Serenity let out a giggle.
Who needed a beer to relax? This made me happier than anything I could imagine.