Bonus Epilogue
SOME YEARS LATER
“I hate you,” Reese flings.
Smothering a smile, I stroke her sweaty hair and try to remember the steps to stay calm. After all, it’s not my first rodeo. Even if it is my first baby.
I lean closer. “I love you, Reese, but you say what you need to say.”
“This is all your fault,” she accuses, her voice laced with pain and rage. “You did this to me.”
I bite my lip as my eyes drink her in. Those wild curls. Those pouty lips and sparkling green eyes. Even snarling at me while in labor, Reese is goddamn beautiful.
I can’t get enough of this woman. Nearly seven years of marriage and she still turns me on like she’s that stubborn, bickering girl who stormed the ranch and flipped my entire world upside down. Every day I wake up is another day that I’m filled with gratitude she’s mine. My strong, beautiful Bluebird.
I splay a hand over her tight belly. “If I remember correctly, you were there that night, too.”
The exact night is etched into my mind. The ACM Awards After Party. Reese had just won Entertainer of the Year. We were high on life and had a jukebox on blast and a full bottle of whiskey, which we quickly emptied. Then there was Reese scratching her nails down my back and whispering, “Fill me up, Ford. All of you, forever.”
Fuck if I didn’t do just that.
Her eyes narrow, and she pants. “I regret that night. And I regret—” She breaks off as a contraction has her gritting her teeth and groaning.
“C’mon out, kid,” I tell her belly. “Your mama’s sick of you.”
“Don’t tell him that,” she scolds, her eyes wide. “He’ll think I’m awful.”
I plant a kiss on her sweaty forehead. “You got this, baby.”
“Don’t touch me,” she growls, glowering at me.
The nurse chuckles, shooing me away, which immediately prompts Reese to burst into tears. “No, don’t go.”
Grinning, I lope back to her and take her hand. The overhead lights dance over the faint, silvery scars on her arms.
“I can’t do this,” she huffs, her eyes full of fear.
I tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. “You can. You got this, Reese.”
She did it once. She can do it again.
If I thought it wasn’t possible to love my wife anymore, I found out I could the day she came to me and suggested being a surrogate for Ruby and Charlie when they were out of options. It was an easy decision. We put our plans for a family on hold until my brother and his wife had their own. I’m still in awe of Reese’s strength, her selflessness.
“Let’s talk baby names,” I say, hoping to distract her. Hell, distract me.
I bawled at Meadow’s birth; I can only imagine how much of a mess I’ll be when I see my son.
“Okay,” she agrees, her green eyes sparkling with tears.
“Kit?”
She shakes her head. “No.”
“Hayes?”
“No- ooo .” She breathes through a contraction and squeezes my hand so tight I almost fall off the stool.
I give her a look. “Shootin’ all my baby names down.”
“Because they’re bad, Ford.” Her nose scrunches up. “They sound like cars. Or cows.”
I chuckle. The battle of baby names. In all honesty, Reese can have any name she wants, but I like it when she argues with me. That bratty mouth of hers still makes my blood burn.
I’m distracted when the two nurses in the corner of the room step forward. I spy the Sharpie in their hand. I’m prepared for it.
“No,” I growl at them, and they freeze. “One more step and I throw both your damn asses out of this hospital.”
At the monitor, Dr. Weir lifts her head. “Ladies,” she snaps. Instantly, they jump back to their work.
I roll my eyes, settle my attention back on Reese. Where it belongs.
Sometimes I forget Reese is a superstar. At the ranch, she’s my wife, my Birdie Girl. Chicken wrangler, junk food eater. And now…Mom.
Though it’s been seven years since her kidnapping, I’m still an overprotective bastard. When she tours or fans are around, it’s a constant reminder that she was almost taken away from me. But I fight those dark thoughts every damn day.
Hell, if I thought I was protective over Reese before, her being pregnant amped it up into overdrive. After the chaos that was Meadow’s birth, I’m not taking any chances. Her entire pregnancy, I’ve been following her around with a fucking padded pillow.
Doctor Weir settles between Reese’s legs. “Reese, it’s time to push.”
Her terrified eyes flash to mine. “Ford.”
I lace her fingers through mine. “You got this, Reese. I’m right here. I’m right fucking here.” Emotion clogs my throat. “I love you so fucking much for giving me everything. My entire world. My reason for breathing.”
“I love you, Ford. So damn much.” Reese chokes on a sob, then those brave green eyes flick to me, and she grins. “Now let’s get this baby out of me.”
I run a finger down my son’s downy cheek, tuck him in tighter into his swaddle. “Look at him,” I marvel. “He’s perfect.” I lie next to Reese in the bed. I’m never moving from this spot.
Reese rolls her head across the pillow, tears in her beautiful green eyes. So damn beautiful she steals my gaze. “He’s so small,” she whispers.
I fight emotion, using a free hand to stroke her hair. “You did good, baby. So damn good.”
Forever a warrior, my wife. Reese slams it out of the park with each new movie, each new album she releases. Plays her guitar at Nowhere on Friday nights. She’s an advocate for survivors. Her Bluebird Foundation, founded two years ago, helps female musicians find their paths and avoid predatory agents.
Words aren’t enough for what this woman means to me. She’s given me peace. Loves me for who I am. Stands beside me as my best friend. Now, she’s given me our beautiful son.
My dream girl.
Every day, I live in awe of her resilience and strength.
I stare down at my son, curled in my arms. Tiny and perfect and dark-eyed. He cocks his head and looks at us, a small, adorable yawn scrunching his face and button nose. “He’s so beautiful,” I marvel.
“Takes after his daddy.”
I chuckle, kiss her temple. “Nah, baby, that’s all you.”
“Ford,” Reese murmurs. She sounds dazed as she stares up at the two of us. “You should probably let in the cavalry.”
“Two more minutes,” I grumble.
Our entire family is camped out in the waiting room waiting for word on the new Montgomery. But hell, I’m a selfish bastard, wanting to keep my wife and my baby all to myself. A few more seconds of just us .
Finally, carefully, I place our son in Reese’s arms and whip open the door. “All right, get in here.”
Excited squeals and hushed whispers surround me as our family crowds inside the room, enclosing the bed in a loose semi-circle.
“He’s so precious,” Dakota breathes, one hand on her very pregnant belly. “How do you feel?”
Reese smiles. “Like a horse ripped me in half.”
Davis jostles both Duke and Lainie in his arms, always an excuse to show off his muscles. “Hands full, brother,” Davis says, somehow slapping me on the back.
I nod, tickling Lainie in the side. “Damn straight.”
“Well, don’t keep us in suspense,” Charlie growls. “What’s his name?”
I look at my wife.
“His name is Ellis,” Reese breathes. “Ellis James Montgomery.”
“The most perfect name,” Ruby says, her voice quivering. She steps forward to place a bouquet of wild bluebells on the dresser. She looks down at us, then throws her arms around me. “I’m so happy for you.”
I squeeze her tight. “Thanks, Fairy Tale.”
Wyatt chuckles, grinning down at Ellis, wrapped tight in a blue bandana-print swaddle. “Kid already looks like an outlaw.”
Fallon, a dusty cowboy hat shading her eyes, lifts a bottle of whiskey and a box of cigars. Her limp is barely noticeable as she shuffles forward. “For when Mom and Dad need to party.”
Reese laughs. “Try me in about five years.”
“Excuse me.”
We all look down at the bright chirp of sound. Releasing her father’s hand, Meadow squeezes through Charlie’s legs. My three-year-old niece is all sass and sunlight. Thank fuck, she takes after her mother and not my grumpy-ass brother.
“Miss Merry Meadow,” I drawl, flashing a grin. “Fancy meetin’ you here.” The bond I have with my niece is forged in fucking steel. Anything that little girl wants, she only needs to ask.
With unabashed bravery, Meadow climbs up on the bed beside Reese. Smiling, Reese curls her in her free arm. With wide blue eyes, Meadow pokes Ellis’s blanket and asks, “Is this my brother?”
I chuckle.
Ruby and Charlie share an amused look. Meadow knows the story that Reese was a safe place for her to grow before she was born.
“Not your brother,” I tell her. “But you two are gonna be pretty close.”
“Then he’s my best buddy,” she announces, decided.
I press a hand to my heart, pretending to be offended. “What about me? I thought you and I were cool, kid.”
She giggles.
Charlie peers close at the bundle in my arms, his rugged face softening. “Looks like a Montgomery.”
Pride swells in my chest. There’s a burning sensation at the back of my eyes, and I don’t bother to chase it away. “He is.”
“Three more,” Davis says, evaluating our family. “And we’ll have a full baseball team.”
Wyatt’s eyes flick to Fallon as she scoffs. “Don’t hold your breath.”
After our family finally disperses, I climb back on the bed next to Reese. Our son’s asleep, swaddled tight in her arms. Everything I’ve ever wanted, right here. My purpose. My two reasons for living.
Reese sighs. “Do you hear that?” she murmurs, resting her blonde head on my shoulder. “Just us.”
I lean down and brush my lips over hers, then sweep them over my son’s fuzzy blond hair. “No idea how I got to be so lucky, but fuck, what a life.”
She smiles. “It’s a good one.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. “Damn good.”
Sniffling, she looks down at Ellis. “It’s ridiculous how much I already love him.”
“I know.” I look into those bright green eyes and say, “I love you, Reese.”
She cups my cheek. “I love you.”
The rest of my life plays in front of my eyes. Trips to the lake. Fishing. Baseball games at Fenway. Teaching Ellis to throw the best pitch, ride the wildest horse, climb the fiercest mountain. Loving my wife so damn hard, making sure she always feels safe and protected and happy. And when she gets sad, when she’s the fire of the sunset and the rage of the river, all I will do is love her every damn day for the rest of my life.
Sliding my palm over my wife’s cheek, I pull her close. “Thanks for burning my entire world down, Birdie Girl.”
She smiles before kissing me, soft and sweet. “Anytime, Country Boy.”