Chapter 22
Hope
The next few days fly by with so much lightness and laughter that it’s hard to remember how fractured I felt when I first arrived on the ranch.
Zane quickly becomes Bellamy’s favourite person, and every morning she wants him to pick up chickens for her.
She’s getting closer to wanting to hold the feathered demons herself, but only if he helps.
When he shows up in the greenhouse, she grabs his hand and tugs. And he goes with her, every time.
When I watch them go, Luna watches me.
She has to know I’m kissing her son, but she hasn’t said anything to me, and she has very carefully—maybe too carefully—not changed a thing about how we work together during the day.
We have a new crop in the high tunnel. A row of haskap berries is ripe and ready to pick. Some of them make it all the way to the house, but many are devoured right off the bush by Bellamy—and Luna, who encourages her to try the honey berries, as she calls them.
Because we’re busy, it takes me days to realize that Luna is mothering me, in a way. Giving me space to explore but also watching like a hawk. Or maybe she’s mothering Zane. Once upon a time, he was her baby, after all.
It’s startling to think of Bellamy growing up one day. Of the tiny hope of a baby in my belly being all grown up one day, and picturing myself in Luna’s stage of parenting.
My own parents had no interest in the complicated stage of watching their adult kid make grown up mistakes.
I will never give up on them, I swear to myself.
We don’t fight our way through pregnancy and labour and sleepless nights and toddler tantrums just to give up at eighteen. Loving them means loving them forever, even when it gets rough.
I’m thinking of that resolution mid-day when the chicken adventures go awry, and it’s clearly time for a nap for Bellamy.
I scoop her up and she sobs against my shoulder as I carry her away from Luna and Zane.
“Okay, Bellaboo, let’s go to the house.”
“No…” she wails.
But by the time we’re inside, she’s nuzzling her face into my neck, and her sobs have quieted to soft hiccups.
“Are you hungry?”
She shakes her head.
No, of course not. She’s gorged herself on berries, and Zane made her a big breakfast.
“I’ll have a snack for you when you wake up, okay?” I kiss her temple and carry her upstairs.
I love how quiet and calm the house is mid-day when I put her down for these naps. It feels so luxurious to have such a solid lodge around us, and having it all to ourselves for these two hours.
Bellamy loves it, too. She burrows in the blankets on the bed and conks out fast.
It hurts my heart that she didn’t know this kind of comfort before, never had this peace in her entire life. But we’ve found it now, and no matter what, the Kincaids have lifted my standards for my daughter.
I know how good life can be. I will always try to provide something like this for her.
Even if things don’t work out between Zane and me, I can give her this in more modest ways.
But it will be this clean and sweet and calm.
That’s the part of Zane’s family that I will always carry with me in my heart.
Because the house is completely still, a few minutes later I hear the quiet click of a door opening somewhere down below.
My pulse picks up and I grab my phone. If it’s Zane, I can slip downstairs. If it’s Luna, I can maybe ask her to keep an ear out for Bellamy so I can go to the barn and find him and steal another kiss.
But it’s not either of them.
Zane is in the barn, Luna is in the greenhouse. I pull the screen up to refresh the app, just to be sure, as I hear slow, heavy footsteps moving around downstairs.
None of the Kincaids are here.
Ridge is way up in the corner of the map. Zane and Luna are working, and Cash’s dot says he’s five kilometres away. Dax’s says sixty kilometres away.
Nobody should be inside with us, but—
Creak. A foot lands heavy on the steps coming upstairs.
I’m out of the bed like a shot. Padding silently to the door, I glance into the hallway.
There’s a shadow on the wall in the stairwell, the unmistakable shape of a person, and that’s enough to make me turn the lock on the door handle as I step into the hall, pulling it shut behind me as I race across to the other bedroom, which is full of boy things.
My heart beats wildly as I search this room for anything big and heavy I can lift.
A baseball bat would be amazing, but there’s nothing like that.
There are a couple heavy leather belts hanging on the wall, though, with oversized buckles. I grab one and it feels deadly enough. Gripping it right behind the buckle, I lift it over my shoulder as I position myself behind the open door.
Come this way, I pray. Don’t touch the other door. Don’t go near my daughter.
Sure enough, the footsteps pause at the top of the stairs, then move toward the open door.
My heart beating wildly, I hold my breath.
On the other side of the door, a man whispers, “Come on, where the fuck are you?”
A sob tries to rack my body and I force myself silent, holding the terror in my chest. He steps into the room, grabbing the edge of the door.
I swing as hard as I can, bringing the belt buckle down onto the side of his head. With a surprised grunt, he stumbles into the doorframe, then crumples at my feet.
I stare down.
I’m shocked that worked, but I’m also shaking because I just felled a man—and it’s not Derek.
It’s a stranger, and I’m now trapped in this room and he might get up any second, so I need to climb over him, but I should also make sure he’s not dead, probably.
“Oh my God, oh my God,” I pant as I lean down, thinking about checking his pulse, but then I see he’s breathing and that’s good enough. I climb over his big frame as fast as I can and run back across the hall, only to realize I’ve left my phone in the locked bedroom with Bellamy.
Luckily it’s the kind of courtesy lock that wouldn’t actually keep anyone out, and I manage to get it open again and then collapse against it on the inside as I frantically call Zane.
He answers on the first ring. “Hope?”
“There’s someone in the house and I knocked them out.” The words come out in a slurred rush.
“I’m coming.” Then he’s running.
It takes him no time at all to get to the house, and it still feels like a lifetime.
He stays on the line with me, me hyperventilating in his ear, his breathing hard and controlled as he sprints across the yard.
When he’s inside, he takes the stairs two at a time.
I listen to him come to an abrupt halt across the hall, then…
Nothing.
And then…
Laughter.
“Hope,” he says softly. “You can come out, it’s okay.”
Shaking, I roll onto my knees and ease the door open.
He gives me a soft, understanding look and gestures for me to stand. “It’s okay, come here. I want you to meet my brother Dax.”
I scramble to my feet, horror slashing through me. "Your brother? No, I looked on the app, he's sixty clicks away."
"Dumbass is conked out on his bedroom floor, actually. It's okay, gorgeous. You didn't do anything wrong. You were just protecting your cub. Come here.”
He catches my hand and squeezes my numb fingers as I stare down in disbelief at what I’ve done.
His brother?
Zane doesn’t seem fazed. “He's breathing just fine, he'll come to in a minute. You aren't the first to knock him out. Although you probably are the first city girl to do it, and I'm not going to let him live that down."
"I hit him over the head with a belt buckle!" I pull my hand free of Zane’s and kneel next to the unconscious Kincaid on the floor. The youngest one, but the biggest, it looks like. He’s the size of a small ox.
Zane bites his fist, and I can tell he's barely holding back a laugh. I'm not finding any of this funny. "Oh yeah? Was it really heavy?"
I glare up at him as Dax finally stirs. Slightly. He groans, then growls, "What the f—"
"Hey buddy…" Zane kicks his foot. "Wake up. Did you forget your phone somewhere?"
"Someone stole it," he mumbles without opening his eyes.
Zane winces. “That’s the kind of thing you should loop us in on to avoid getting beaned."
"Wasn't supposed to…"
"Yeah. Best laid plans. Anyway, I want you to meet Hope."
He blinks in confusion, finally looking up at me. "Who's Hope?"
Zane grins. "Apparently, our new home guard. She nailed you with your own trophy buckle, bud."
As Dax focuses on my face, his confusion grows. "You? But you're so pretty."
And then he passes out again.
Okay. That’s enough. "We need to call 911.”
Zane shakes his head. "We're not doing that.”
I open my mouth to protest, but he pulls me to my feet and gives me a tight hug that takes me by surprise—but also makes me feel good.
“Your do-gooder instinct there is very sweet, but for a woman who doesn’t want to be found, your self-protection instincts need some work,” he murmurs into my hair.
“But we can get someone to do a house call. "