Chapter 5 Joseph
JOSEPH
Mornings are my favorite time in the cabin. With a steaming coffee, I sit out on the porch listening to the bird chatter, the wind rustling the leaves, and the wildlife shuffling through the undergrowth.
But the morning after Trish and the baby crash into my world is different.
It’s before dawn when the cries reach my ears. They’re muffled, coming from the bedroom, but they permeate the stillness of the cabin.
I pad to the bedroom door and hear Trish making shushing noises. The baby’s probably hungry and needs a bottle.
I knock gently and push the door open, intending to let Trish know I’m awake and she can use the kitchen to heat the bottle. But the words die on my lips.
She’s wearing one of my t-shirts, which hangs almost to her knees and hugs her curvy figure.
One side is snagged on Rose’s blanket and it pulls upward, exposing a thick creamy thigh.
My mouth goes dry as I think about sliding my hand up the t-shirt and discovering what’s at the top of her luscious thighs.
I drag my gaze away, but my dirty thoughts follow as I glimpse her tits pushed up against the t-shirt.
She’s braless, and the shape of her nipple presses against the cotton.
My dick stirs to life, and I’ve barely got my eyes open but I’m already imagining all sorts of dirty things I want to do to her.
I turn away, intending to get out of here before Trish sees the tenting in my track pants. She’s pacing the room jiggling Rose on her hip, but before I can retreat, she sees me.
“Sorry we woke you.”
I shake my head. “Don’t matter.” I’m an early riser anyway. “She need milk?”
Trish nods and follows me to the kitchen. I focus on what she and the baby need, trying to calm my racing male blood. I thought I was done with women, but twelve hours with this one in my cabin and my body’s behaving like I’m a teenager.
Trish holds Rose while I get the formula ready, trying to remember what I saw her do yesterday. The tin of formula is light when I pick it up, and I have to tip it sideways to get to the powder at the bottom. I don’t know if she’s got any more in her bag, but this won’t last another day.
While the bottle warms, Trish changes Rose and I make the coffee. Then we all sit out on the porch, the baby wrapped in a blanket as she sucks on her bottle.
As soon as Rose gets the teat of the bottle in her mouth, the crying finally stops. The silence is golden and we sit without talking, listening to the birdsong and the sound of the forest waking up.
“It’s peaceful out here.” Trish lets out a long sigh.
I take a sip of coffee and lean back in my chair.
“Yup.”
The porch is positioned to face a clearing where the sun rises every morning. The pale rays warm my face and I close my eyes, enjoying the sounds of the baby suckling as Trish rocks her chair back and forth. I got the rocking chairs because I like the motion, but they’re perfect for nursing babies.
A vision springs into my head, Trish and the baby here every morning by my side, rocking gently on the porch as we watch the sunrise.
A smile creeps over my face. I’ve never contemplated being with anyone until now, let alone a woman and a baby. But I like having Trish and Rose here. It’s soothing to watch her with the baby in a way that speaks to my damaged soul.
When I came back from the military, I didn’t want to be around people. I’d seen the worst of humanity, but Trish is showing me the best. The love of a mother and the fierce protectiveness toward her young.
I didn’t have any family when I got out of the military and Kobe told me about the Wild Riders MC, a motorcycle club of ex-servicemen. I’ve always loved to ride and I grew up in the mountains of the west, but there was nothing left for me back home. So I came here to see what it was about.
I like my quiet secluded life in the forest, but once a week I head down the mountain for the MC meetings and take part in any charity runs they’re doing. I’ve helped my brothers build their own cabins, and I supply meat to the restaurant and to anyone who needs it.
Out here, I don’t need much. I live off the land and off my military pension. I hunt and trap and sell meat and hides to the surrounding towns.
It’s a good life. It’s a single man’s life.
But now, for the first time, I want to share it with someone else.
The thought both pleases and terrifies me.
I’m an old man compared to Trish. I’m thirty-six, old and damaged.
I have nightmares, haunted by what I saw humans do to each other.
I don’t like loud noises or being around people.
I stand up abruptly, not wanting to think about my failings. The best I can do is make Trish and the baby comfortable.
“I’m going for a supply run in town. What do you need?”
She hesitates, and I’m not sure if it’s because of a reluctance to ask for help or if she doesn’t have any money.
“I’ll put it on my store account, so you don’t have to pay me yet.”
She doesn’t have to pay me ever, but she’s too proud to take charity. I’ve seen that before with people who need help.
“Umm.” She bites her lower lip, and I wonder what’s got her so troubled. I wish I could take her troubles away and make her smile and laugh like a young woman should.
“I need diapers and formula.”
She looks away, and I’m sure there’s more she needs, but I don’t want to embarrass her. I’ll pick up some baby stuff and hope it’s right.
“Help yourself to anything in the cabin.”
I figure getting out of the way and giving her time to get used to the place will help her relax. I head down the porch and turn around at the bottom step.
“And if you go walking in the forest, take some bear spray.”
Her mouth pops open, and she pulls Rose to her chest as her eyes dart to the forest.
“Stick near the cabin and you’ll be fine.”
She doesn’t look reassured, and I make a mental note to give her a lesson on basic mountain safety when I get back.
I chuckle to myself as I get into the pickup. This small town girl doesn’t know a thing about the mountains, and I can’t wait to teach her.
A few hours later, I’m at the general store in Wild. It’s easy enough to get diapers here and formula, but I’ll have to go across the mountain to Hope to get the other things I need.
Larry, who runs the store, looks at me suspiciously when I put the diapers down on the counter. But I don’t say anything. It’s none of his damn business, and I don’t want to let the whole town know about Trish.
There’s a baby store in Hope, and I browse the aisles trying to figure out what Rose needs.
There are all in one outfits and cute animal t-shirts and tiny little dresses.
I forgot to ask how old Rose is, but if human babies don’t wean until six months, she must be younger than that.
I pick up a cute onesie with a smiling giraffe and another with a fox.
I stay away from the laughing bear; I don’t want her to think bears are approachable.
Geez, if any of the guys were here they’d give me shit. But I already feel like a protective dad towards this baby.
There are a bunch of baby toys and I rifle through them, trying to find one that isn’t a choking hazard. I settle on a colorful caterpillar and a wind-up car that will work well on my wooden floors.
I’m guessing Trish doesn’t have a lot of baby clothes in that little bag of hers, so I throw in a couple of singlets and a baby changing mat.
I find a travel crib and a baby sling. I’ve noticed Rose doesn’t like to be put down, and this way she can stay close to her momma while Trish keeps her hands free.
I take it all to the counter and scowl when I recognize Trudy.
The last time I saw Trudy was when I helped install a ramp at their house after her son had an injury and needed assistance.
She’d spent the entire time telling me and the boys all the gossip on the mountain, as if we care who’s seeing who and who’s newly divorced and whose daughter is off to college.
“Hello Joseph.” She eyes the baby stuff I put on the counter. “You got some news you want to tell me?”
Her eyes light up, eager for the gossip.
The last thing I want to do is get into a conversation about Trish. Trudy’s a decent woman, but I know how town gossip works. It spreads quicker than wildfire around these mountains.
“Got a friend staying for a few days.”
She wants to ask more, but I cut her off with a question about washing instructions on the baby clothes.
While she’s talking, I pay up and get out of there as soon as she hands me my bags. Her curious look follows me out of the shop.
I’m walking back to the pickup when a glint of bronze in a shop window catches my eye.
I stop in front of a boutique jewelry shop and stare at the clip in the window display.
Trish’s hair always slips over her shoulder, and a clip would help her keep it out of the way.
And she’d look damn good with her hair half clipped back.
I stop into the shop, smiling to myself as I imagine her face when I give it to her.