Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
RIDGE
The snow continues falling as afternoon stretches into evening, accumulating against the windows in a wall of white. Inside, the cabin feels different now. Charged. As if the air itself recognizes a fundamental shift has taken place between Stella and me.
We move around each other in a new dance, casual touches lingering longer, glances holding deeper meaning. Every brush of her hand against mine sends electricity crackling up my arm, memories of her body beneath mine still fresh and intoxicating.
"Higher, Widge!" Chellie demands from her perch on my shoulders. We're playing "airplane" in the great room, her tiny hands gripping my hair for stability as I carefully navigate around furniture.
"Any higher and you'll hit the ceiling, princess." I steady her legs as I turn in a slow circle, her delighted giggles warming something deep in my chest.
Stella watches us from the kitchen doorway, lips curved in a soft smile. She's wearing one of my flannel shirts over her thermal top, the sleeves rolled up several times, looking more beautiful than I've ever seen her.
"Time for dinner, airplane pilots," she announces. "The stew is ready."
Using the camping stove, she's managed to create something remarkable from our emergency provisions. The rich aroma fills the cabin, making my mouth water. I swing Chellie down from my shoulders, setting her carefully on her feet.
"Go wash your hands, baby," Stella instructs. "Remember to use the water I set aside."
With the pipes at risk of freezing, we've been conserving water, keeping several containers filled for drinking and basic hygiene. The system works, though showering will soon become a distant memory if the power stays out much longer.
As Chellie skips toward the bathroom, I approach Stella, unable to resist sliding my arms around her waist from behind. She leans back against my chest, head tilting to allow me access to her neck.
"Smells amazing," I murmur, pressing my lips to the spot below her ear that I discovered makes her shiver.
"The stew or me?" She turns in my arms, hands coming to rest on my chest.
"Both." I capture her mouth in a kiss that quickly deepens, her body melting against mine as if we've been doing this for years instead of hours.
A clatter from the bathroom breaks us apart, both of us turning toward the sound.
"I okay!" Chellie calls, voice pitched higher than normal.
Stella laughs softly. "Never a dull moment with a two year old."
"I wouldn't have it any other way." The admission slips out naturally, but the vulnerability in her eyes makes me realize how much it means to her. "I mean it, Stella. Both of you. I want this."
She rises on tiptoes, pressing her lips to mine in a kiss that feels like a promise. "Me too."
Dinner passes in comfortable domesticity, Chellie chattering about Sparkle the fish and the snow monsters she's certain are lurking outside.
I find myself watching them both, marveling at how quickly they've become essential to my happiness.
Three weeks ago I was alone in this cabin, content but incomplete in ways I hadn't fully recognized.
Now I can't imagine these rooms without Stella's laughter or Chellie's exuberant presence.
After Chellie's bath, accomplished with heated water and creative use of plastic cups, I offer to handle bedtime. Stella agrees gratefully, taking the opportunity to light more candles throughout the main rooms as the afternoon light fades entirely.
"Story, Widge!" Chellie bounces on the guest bed that she shares with Stella, clutching Mr. Bunny tightly. "The snow one!"
I settle beside her, the children's book I found in a box of my childhood possessions already becoming her favorite. "The Snow Day it is."
She snuggles against my side as I read, her small body radiating trust that makes my throat tighten. By the third page, her eyelids grow heavy, and by the final illustration, she's sound asleep, thumb tucked securely in her mouth.
I watch her for a moment, this tiny human who's claimed a piece of my heart so effortlessly. Chellie may not be mine by blood, but in every way that matters, I'm already thinking of her as family.
In the hallway, my phone buzzes in my pocket, surprising me. Cell service has been spotty since the storm began. I answer quickly, moving toward my bedroom for privacy.
"Ridge? You there?" My brother Jax's voice comes through, broken by static.
"I'm here. You okay?" I close my door, keeping my voice low.
"Yeah, power's out at my place but the emergency generator's running. Riley's with me." His girlfriend of six months, a social worker who's softened my oldest brother in ways none of us expected. "Wanted to check on you. News says your area got hit hardest."
"We're managing." I hesitate, then decide honesty is simpler. "I'm not alone up here."
A pause, then, "The woman and kid Colt mentioned? Stella something?"
"Brooks. And yes." I hadn't realized Colt knew about my visitors, but small town gossip travels fast especially since he got with the sheriff’s daughter. "She showed up three weeks ago. Her and her daughter Chellie."
"Your Stella?" The emphasis makes me both wince and smile. My brothers have heard about her for years, seen me pine for her since we were teenagers.
"She needed somewhere safe to stay." I keep the details vague, unwilling to share Stella's story without her permission.
"And now you're snowed in together." Jax's voice holds both amusement and concern. "You okay with that?"
The question carries layers of meaning. Am I okay with the responsibility of protecting them? With the complications this brings to my orderly life? With the inevitable heartache if she leaves again?
"More than okay." I glance toward the door, thinking of Stella just down the hall. "Things are... different this time."
"Different how?" Always the protective older brother, wanting to shield me from another disappointment.
"She wants to stay," I say simply. "Here. With me."
The silence stretches, broken only by static. "For real? Or just until the snow melts?"
"For real." The certainty in my voice surprises even me. "There are complications we need to work out, but she's not planning to leave again."
"Her ex?" Jax asks, cutting to the heart of it. "Colt said something about her running from a bad situation."
"How did Colt… Nevermind, her ex, yeah." I lower my voice further. "He's been harassing her. Threatening custody claims for a child he abandoned before she was even born."
A curse crackles through the static. "What's your plan?"
"Keep them safe. Help her file for full legal custody once the roads clear. Beyond that, take it day by day."
"You need backup, you call. Me and Colt will be there." The simple offer of support warms me. My brothers and I have our differences, but when it matters, we stand together. "Service is getting worse. Check in when you can."
"Will do. You and Riley stay safe. Tell Colt the same." The call drops before he can respond, the signal finally giving out.
I tuck the phone away, staring at the storm still visible through my bedroom window. Knowing my brothers are there if I need them settles something in me. Whatever comes after the snow melts, we'll face it as a family. All of us.
When I return to the great room, Stella has transformed it. Candles flicker on every surface, their golden light reflecting off the windows where darkness presses against the glass. She's built up the fire to a cheerful blaze and arranged cushions and blankets on the floor before it.
"Chellie asleep?" she asks, looking up from where she sits cross legged on a blanket.
"Out like a light." I join her on the makeshift nest. "She barely made it through three pages."
"All that airplane flying wore her out." She shifts closer, fitting herself against my side as naturally as if we've spent years perfecting the position. "Who called?"
"My brother Jax. Checking in on us during the storm."
She tilts her head. "I've never met your brothers. They were still in a different foster home when we met. You've told me about them, but..."
"They're eager to meet you." I wrap my arm around her shoulders. "Jax has heard me talk about you for years."
"Talk about me?" Her eyebrow raises. "What exactly have you been saying?"
Heat creeps up my neck. "Just that you were my best friend growing up. That we lost touch when you moved away."
"Is that all?" Her fingers trace patterns on my thigh, innocent touches that send fire through my veins.
"Not even close." I capture her hand, bringing it to my lips. "They know you were always special to me. That no one else ever measured up."
Her expression softens. "Ridge..."
"It's true." I meet her eyes directly, needing her to understand. "I've had relationships since you left. A few that even lasted months. But they all ended the same way."
"How?"
"With them realizing they were competing with a ghost." I brush a strand of hair from her face. "With me comparing every woman to the one who got away."
Her eyes shimmer in the firelight. "I'm sorry I left the way I did. That I stayed away so long."
"Don't be." I press a kiss to her temple. "You needed to find your own path. I understand that now."
"And that path led me right back to you." She shifts, rising onto her knees to face me fully. "With a bonus daughter you never signed up for."
"Chellie is amazing." I reach for her waist, drawing her closer until she's straddling my lap. "Smart, funny, brave like her mother."
"She adores you." Stella's hands frame my face, thumbs tracing my cheekbones. "It usually takes her months to warm up to people, but with you..."
"Special connection," I murmur, distracted by her weight settled against me, the scent of her skin filling my senses. "Like mother, like daughter."
She rocks slightly against me, a deliberate movement that sends blood rushing south. "Is that right?"
"Stella." Her name emerges as both warning and invitation. "Chellie could wake up."
"She won't." Her confidence matches the wicked gleam in her eyes. "Not for hours. She sleeps like the dead after bath time."
To prove her point, she grinds down again, more purposefully this time. I groan, hands tightening on her hips.
"You're playing with fire," I warn, already hardening beneath her.
She smiles, slow and sure. "Maybe I want to get burned."
The last of my restraint snaps. I capture her mouth in a fierce kiss, weeks of longing poured into a single connection. She responds with equal hunger, fingers tangling in my hair, body pressing closer as if trying to eliminate any space between us.
Outside, the blizzard rages on, wind howling like a living thing around the eaves. Inside, we create our own storm, a tempest of need and discovery. Clothes fall away, replaced by firelight dancing across bare skin. Words give way to sighs, to gasps, to quiet moans as we learn each other again.
And in the aftermath, holding Stella's sleeping form against my chest, watching firelight play across her features, I send a silent prayer of thanks to whatever twist of fate brought her back to me. Back home. Where she belongs.
Where she's always belonged.