Chapter 10 Cage #2
"He was. He saved a lot of people."
Emma thinks about this. "Did you save people too?"
"I tried."
"Mommy says trying is important."
Out of the mouths of children.
India comes out of the cabin, moving slowly. Emma's eyes go wide.
"You have a baby in your tummy?"
"I do," India says with a smile.
"Can I touch it?"
"If that's okay with your mom."
Sarah nods, and Emma puts her small hand on India's belly. The baby kicks immediately, and Emma gasps.
"It moved!"
"He or she likes to kick," India tells her.
"What are you going to name it?"
India glances at me. I nod.
"If it's a boy, Marcus. If it's a girl, Emma."
Emma's eyes go even wider. "Emma? Like me?"
"Just like you."
"Why?"
"Because Emma is a beautiful name," India says. "And because it belonged to a little girl whose daddy was very brave."
Emma looks at Sarah. "That's me!"
"That's you," Sarah agrees, her voice thick.
Emma turns back to me. "Thank you for naming your baby after me."
"You're welcome."
She gives me a gap-toothed smile, then runs off to look at the chickens.
Sarah wipes her eyes. "Thank you. For that. For all of it."
"I should be thanking you."
"We're even then."
She follows Emma to the chicken coop, leaving India and me alone.
"You okay?" she asks.
"Yeah. I think I am."
And I mean it. Something has loosened in my chest. Some knot I've been carrying for three years.
It's not gone. Maybe it never will be. But it's lighter.
That night, after Sarah and Emma leave, I walk up to my old cabin.
I haven't been here in months. India and I live in her place full-time now. But I've kept this cabin. Kept it maintained.
Insurance, I told myself. A backup plan in case everything fell apart.
But standing here now, looking at the place where I hid for three years, I realize I don't need insurance anymore.
I don't need a backup plan.
I have India. I have a baby on the way. I have a life in Iron Peak.
I'm not running anymore.
I spend the next few days cleaning out the cabin. Packing up the things worth keeping. Deciding what to donate or throw away.
On the third day, Wyatt stops by.
"Heard you're clearing this place out," he says.
"Yeah. Don't need it anymore."
"What are you going to do with it?"
"Sell it, maybe. Or rent it."
"Mind if I make an offer?"
I look at him in surprise. "You want to buy it?"
"Been thinking about moving out of town. Up the ridge." He looks around. "This place is solid. Good location. I could use it as a base for search and rescue operations."
"It's yours. Name a fair price and it's yours."
We shake on it. Simple as that.
When I get back to India's cabin, our cabin, she's napping on the couch. I cover her with a blanket and sit in the chair across from her, just watching.
She's everything I never knew I needed. Patient with my bullshit. Strong when I'm weak. Brave enough to call me out when I'm being an idiot.
I love her more than I thought possible.
The ring is in my truck. It has been for two weeks. I've been waiting for the right moment.
But sitting here, watching her sleep, I realize there's no such thing as the perfect moment.
There's just now.
When she wakes up, I'm on one knee beside the couch.
She blinks, confused. "Cage?"
"India Hartley." I pull out the ring, it’s a simple gold band with a small diamond. Nothing flashy. Just real. "Will you marry me?"
She stares at me, then at the ring, and then back at me.
"I already said yes."
"I know but I wanted to ask properly."
"You're asking now? When I'm seven months pregnant and haven't showered today?"
"I'm asking now because I don't want to wait anymore. Because you're it for me. You and this baby. You're my family. And I want to make it official."
Tears stream down her face. "Yes. Of course yes."
I slide the ring onto her finger. It fits perfectly.
She pulls me up to the couch and kisses me. Long and sweet and full of promise.
"I love you," she says.
"I love you too."
"Even when I'm fat and cranky?"
"Especially then."
She laughs and wipes her eyes. "We should tell people."
"Tomorrow. Tonight, it's just us."
"Just us," she agrees.
We spend the evening on the couch, her legs across my lap, talking about the wedding. She only wants a small wedding, just close friends and family. Maybe we have it at the cabin or up at the ridge. I don't care where we do it. I just want her to be my wife.
Two months later, India goes into labor.
It's three in the morning, and she wakes me up by gripping my arm hard enough to bruise.
"Cage," she says. "It's time."
I'm up immediately, switching into mission mode. Hospital bag. Car keys. Call Dr. Merritt.
"Cage," India says as I'm loading the truck.
"What?"
"Breathe."
"I am breathing."
"You're hyperventilating."
"I'm fine."
"You're not fine. But it's cute that you think you are."
The drive to the clinic feels like it takes hours even though it's only fifteen minutes. Dr. Merritt meets us there, calm and unhurried.
"Everything's going to be fine," he tells us. "First babies take their time."
He's right labor lasts eighteen hours.
Eighteen hours of India gripping my hand. Of breathing exercises. Of ice chips and back rubs and me feeling completely useless.
"You're doing great," I tell her during a contraction.
"I'm going to kill you," she pants. "This is your fault."
"Technically it takes two people."
"Cage."
"Right. Shutting up now."
But she doesn't let go of my hand. Not once.
When the baby finally comes, the world stops.
A girl. Perfect. Screaming her lungs out.
Emma.
Dr. Merritt places her on India's chest, and I can't breathe. Can't think. Can't do anything but stare at this tiny person who's half me and half India.
Our daughter.
"She's perfect," India whispers.
"She looks like you."
"She has your scowl."
I lean down and kiss India's forehead. "Thank you."
"For what?"
"Everything. Her. Us. Giving me a reason to live instead of just exist."
India's eyes fill with tears. "I love you."
"I love you too."
Emma stops crying and looks up at us with dark, serious eyes. Already judging us. Already unimpressed.
"Welcome to the world, Emma," I tell her. "We're going to try not to screw you up too badly."
India laughs through her tears. "That's the best parenting philosophy I've ever heard."
Three days later, we bring Emma home.
The cabin is full of people. Ma brought food. Rosie brought flowers. June brought more baby clothes than one child could possibly need. Nora knitted a blanket. Grizz made another rattle.
Even Sarah comes by with Emma, who wants to meet her namesake.
"She's so small," little Emma whispers, looking at the baby.
"You were that small once," Sarah tells her.
"Really?"
"Really."
I stand back and watch it all. This life I somehow stumbled into. These people who became my family when I wasn't looking.
India comes up beside me, Emma asleep in her arms.
"You okay?" she asks.
"Yeah. Just taking it all in."
"It's a lot."
"It's perfect."
And it is. Chaotic and messy and overwhelming. But perfect.
Later that night, after everyone leaves, I'm holding Emma while India sleeps. The baby is awake, staring at me with those serious eyes.
"I'm your dad," I tell her quietly. "And I have no idea what I'm doing. But I'm going to try. I'm going to protect you and your mom with everything I have. And I'm going to love you both more than anything in this world."
Emma makes a small noise. Not quite agreement. Not quite disagreement.
"Yeah, you're skeptical. That's fair. I'm skeptical too." I adjust her in my arms. "But here's the thing. I spent three years thinking I didn't deserve to be happy. Thinking I had to punish myself forever for mistakes I made. And then your mom showed up and refused to let me hide."
Emma yawns.
"She's stubborn like that. You probably will be too. I'm already outnumbered."
India stirs on the couch. "Talking to yourself?"
"Talking to Emma."
"What are you telling her?"
"That I love her. And you. And that I'm going to do my best not to screw this up."
"You won't."
"How do you know?"
"Because you care too much to screw it up." She sits up carefully. "Come here."
I sit beside her, Emma still in my arms. India leans her head on my shoulder.
"We did it," she says.
"Did what?"
"Built a life. A family. A future."
"You did it. I just followed along."
"Liar. You chose this. You chose us."
She's right. I did choose this. Chose to stop running. Chose to stay. Chose to let myself hope that maybe I could have something good.
And now I'm sitting here with my fiancée and daughter, in a cabin in Iron Peak, surrounded by people who care about us.
I spent three years convinced I didn't deserve a second chance.
Turns out I was wrong.
Everyone deserves a second chance. Even broken bastards who drink too much and hide in the woods.
"What are you thinking?" India asks.
"That I'm grateful. For you. For Emma. For all of it."
"Even the sleepless nights ahead?"
"Especially those."
She smiles and kisses my shoulder. "I love you, Cage Brody."
"I love you too, India Hartley." I pause. "Soon to be India Brody."
"We should set a date for the wedding."
"Spring. After Emma's a few months old."
"Spring sounds perfect."
We sit there in the quiet, Emma between us, and I feel something I haven't felt in three years.
Peace.
Not the absence of pain. Not the absence of guilt or fear or doubt.
But the presence of something stronger. Something worth fighting for.
Home.
This is home. India and Emma and this cabin and this town.
This is where I belong.
And I'm never leaving again.
Outside, snow starts to fall. The mountains are dark against the sky. The world is quiet and cold and beautiful.
Inside, we're warm. Safe. Together.
And that's all that matters.
Emma falls asleep in my arms. India dozes against my shoulder. And I sit there holding them both, watching the snow, thinking about the future.
It won't be easy. Parenthood never is. And I'll probably screw up more times than I can count.
But I won't be doing it alone.
I have India. I have Emma. I have this town full of people who somehow decided I was worth caring about.
And maybe, just maybe, I'm starting to believe they're right.
I'm not the man I was three years ago. That man was broken. Hiding. Convinced he didn't deserve happiness.
This man is different. Still broken in places. Still carrying scars. But trying. Growing. Learning to live instead of just survive.
And that's enough.
More than enough.
I kiss Emma's forehead, then India's.
"Thank you," I whisper to them both. "For saving me."
India mumbles something in her sleep that sounds like "you saved yourself."
Maybe she's right.
Maybe we saved each other.
Either way, I'm here. We're here. Together.
And I'm not going anywhere.
This is my life now. My family. My future.
And I've never been more grateful for anything in my life.
The snow continues to fall outside. Emma sleeps. India dreams. And I sit here in the quiet, holding my whole world in my arms.
Relentless. That's what they'll probably call this. The mountain man who fell in love and refused to let go.
I can live with that.
I can live with all of it.
Because for the first time in three years, I'm not just surviving.
I'm living.
And it's everything.