13. Stella
THIRTEEN
stella
The bright morning light assaulted my senses, waking me from my alcohol induced slumber, and I rolled over with a groan. The heady feeling of a good night’s sleep was tinged with a bone weary exhaustion, the kind you can only feel after sleeping deeply without waking.
Reaching over onto the end table, I smacked around for my phone before checking the baby monitor. Judging by the light streaming offensively in through the blinds, both Charlie and I had opted to sleep in this morning.
We had gotten home at precisely midnight, fulfilling Ray’s promise that we would get in just before the clock struck twelve. I popped my head in as soon as we got home and gave Charlie a brief kiss on her forehead before padding across the hall to my own room and flopping on the bed fully clothed.
Things between Max and me at the end of the night had been surprisingly easy. There wasn’t any heavy awkwardness that I’d expected after agreeing to go on a date with him- it all felt so natural.
After we danced a few more songs, we finally managed to persuade Ray to leave with us, and then we carefully helped her into the passenger seat of Wade’s truck, which he had pulled up out front and was already waiting for us.
She had somehow weaseled her way into a few more tequila shots, but we escaped the night without a fight.
Wade had ensured that he would get her home safe, having only had one beer, then switching to soda for the rest of the evening.
Max, being the gentleman that he is, had done the same and drove me back to the ranch as I rambled on and on in his passenger seat about everything and nothing at all. It was a good night, and one I desperately had needed.
Forcing my eyes open in order to check the time, I sat straight up in bed with a jolt.
It was already ten in the morning. How in the hell had Charlie and I slept in that late?
A cold dread seeped into my bones as I snatched the monitor off the end table, each frantic heartbeat a hammer against my ribs.
What if something had happened in the middle of the night and I was so irresponsible about coming home drunk that I didn’t even register it?
Heart pounding, I scrambled out of bed, noticing the empty crib on the monitor, and raced to the door.
I threw it open and tried to calm my rapid pulse as I ran down the hall to the living area.
I wasn’t bothering to look in her room. The monitor had told me all I needed to know - she wasn’t in there.
Why didn’t I hear her cry?
What if she got injured?
How had someone gotten into the house to take her?
Why didn’t the house alarm go off?
The questions in my head swirled like a tempest, each one a sharp jab, and my breath hitched in my throat, tears threatening to spill. The overwhelming urge to scream and cry was weighted down by my drive to find my daughter. When it came to fight or flight, in Charlie’s instance, I’d always fight.
I sprinted into the kitchen and came skidding to a stop. The scene before me had me transfixed, not in fear, but in awe.
Sitting at the kitchen table was Max, scrolling through his phone. He had his thick black-rimmed glasses on and a cup of coffee steaming in front of him. Beside him, in her high chair and happy as a pig in slop, sat my beautiful and safe baby girl.
I released the breath I’d been holding and leaned against the archway into the kitchen in relief, willing my pulse to slow.
She was safe.
She was safe.
She was safe.
I repeated the mantra again and again, feeling my racing heart gradually settle into a calmer rhythm, each syllable a soothing balm to the overwhelming anxiety that had taken over my body.
I was so engrossed in my thoughts that I didn’t notice Max standing before me until his large hands, calloused and warm, gently grasped my upper arms. I flinched, still coming out of my panic induced haze, and he quickly released me, a pained expression flashing across his face.
“Stella, I’m so sorry.. I didn’t think..”
Placing a hand on his arm, I paused, taking a deep breath to steady myself before speaking.
“She’s safe.” I repeated out loud this time.
As soon as the words left my mouth, Max pulled me into his arms. My body went limp against his chest as the adrenaline drained away; the scent of his cologne filled my nose, grounding me in the moment.
He rubbed gentle strokes up and down my back while keeping me tethered to him in a warm and comforting embrace.
“She’s safe. I’ve got you,” he whispered into my hair, never stopping his ministrations of gentle coasts of his fingertips up and down my spine.
Once my ragged breathing subsided, I cautiously took a half step back, still remaining in his arms, and looked up at him. He smiled gently down at me, his eyes crinkling at the corners, a warmth spreading through his features.
“Good morning, Trouble.”
“I was so scared that something had happened to her.” I said, looking down at my bare feet in embarrassment. He resumed his gentle up and down strokes across my back, easing the tension and pulling me back into his embrace.
“I should have left a note. I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “She woke up around eight and I was already up for the day. I figured I’d let you sleep in a bit and get her some breakfast. I took her out with me to feed the horses and then made her some eggs and toast…”
He looked almost boyish, a shy smile playing on his lips as he recounted his efforts to do something nice for me.
The sound of his voice was gentle and sincere.
My fear and the subsequent panic attack I had nearly caused me to ruin everything.
When would I be able to live without the constant fear of having to look over my shoulder every second of every day?
Sensing that I was calm enough, he let me go and walked to the coffeemaker.
A fresh pot was just finishing brewing, and he poured some into a cup.
He added a dash of cream and a couple heaping tablespoons of sugar, stirring it around.
As a symbol of peace, he walked over to me, presenting the cup with an outstretched arm.
I gave him a gentle smile and took the coffee, bringing it to my lips. It was perfect - just the right amount of cream and sugar and brewed dark like I liked it.
I have no idea how this man managed to stay hidden from all the women in the world, but I can tell you that he was certainly unlike any other man I’d ever met.
In all the years Dean and I had been together, I’m sure he couldn’t tell you even close to how I liked my coffee in the mornings. I’d been here a little over two weeks and Max had managed to make it perfectly.
“Thank you.” I conceded, walking over to the table and brushing the curls off Charlie’s forehead, leaning down to give her a quick kiss, lingering to take in the feel of her warmth and her quickly fading baby smell.
“I’m sorry about the freak out.” I added, sitting in a chair next to Charlie’s high chair and looking over at Max, who’d taken up residency on the other side of the table.
He scooped some more eggs onto Charlie’s high chair tray and subsequently scooped up the mushy bread she’d been gnawing on to throw in the trash.
“Stella, please don’t apologize. If anyone should apologize, it’s me. I didn’t think about how scary it would be for you to wake up and not know where Charlie was,” He said sheepishly as he sat back down at the table. “This is one hundred percent on me.”
“For as long as I can remember, I’ve done everything myself. I’d get up every morning with her, change her, feed her, and make Dean’s breakfast before the sun even rose. I can’t remember the last time I slept past eight.”
Max’s jaw tightened, the movement sharp and angry, and the grinding of his teeth was almost audible, a low, tense rasp. I became aware of the depth of his discomfort, caused by his realization of the significant amount of independent responsibility Charlie and I had shouldered.
“Anyway, she probably needs to be changed,” I said, standing up. “I’ll be right back.”
As I shoved my chair away from the table, Max reacted swiftly, extending an arm to grasp my wrist firmly.
“Yeah, that’s the one thing I didn’t do,” he said, looking over at my daughter. “I figured you didn’t stink too bad, and that Mama should be the one changing your diaper.”
Boundaries. He was drawing boundaries when it came to Charlie. He wasn’t going to overstep and assume I was okay with him changing her. I think, at that moment, I fell a little in love with Maxwell Daniels. I shook my head at him in disbelief as I sipped my deliciously perfect cup of coffee.
“You’re something else, Maxwell.” I said over the lip of my cup, a gentle smile gracing my lips.
“So are you, Stella,” he grinned back flirtily.
Charlie broke our heated gaze as she flung a handful of scrambled eggs right at Max’s cheek. I set my cup down and covered my mouth in an attempt to hide my laugh.
The experience of parenting was a strange mix of necessary scolding, balanced by a far greater need to discreetly conceal your laughter to avoid undermining one’s authority in the eyes of their children.
Max swiped the egg from his cheek and leaned down to get eye level with my girl.
“Now, is that how you treat the man who walked you out to see the ‘bawk bawks’, the ‘neighs’ and the ‘moos’ this morning?” He asked her, keeping eye contact.
If watching him make animal sounds at my nearly one- year-old wasn’t enough to make me break out into laughter, the sound of eggs slapping against his face as Charlie chucked another handful at him was.
I hopped up out of my chair and went to the counter, grabbing some paper towels to hand over. I waited on bated breath for Max to get angry.
Dean would have been fuming at the first splatter of egg on him, but Max was unflappable. He just wiped them off, wiped off Charlie’s hands, and scooped up the rest of the breakfast she had in an effort to unload her arsenal.
After cleaning up the remnants of the one sided food fight, he lifted her from her high chair and held her in his muscular arms. In that instant, I swear my ovaries combusted.
“Charlie, no throw,” he scolded gently, all while keeping a stern face and eye contact. She shook her head from side to side and giggled.
“No, no, no,” she chanted back at him, all while still shaking her head.
“Right, no throw.”
“No tow!” she screeched back.
I could see his resolve slipping as he attempted to keep from smiling down at the cuteness in his arms.
“No throw, good girl,” he repeated, tickling her ribs lightly. She let out a squeal and wiggled in his arms in an attempt at escape.
“MOOOOOO!” she shouted at him while squishing his cheeks together between her tiny hands.
“Yesh, we ca go see da moo,” he said from pursed lips. Charlie giggled and continued to squish his cheeks. “Why don we wet mama go get dwessed an meet us at da moos?”
I laughed lightly as Charlie attempted to decipher what Max was saying between squished lips. She giggled and looked over at me with a cheeky grin.
“Mama go!”
I looked up at Max, who’d been relieved of squishy egg covered hands pushing his cheeks together and he smiled.
“Yeah, mama. Go! Little one and I will meet you out at the grazing field. Take your time. Shower, shave, wash your hair. We’ve got this,” he said with the confidence of a dad who’d been doing this job since day one.
Without a moment’s hesitation, and with a voice certain and strong, he readily took the reins and assumed the parenting role this morning. It almost seemed like he wanted to spend time with my daughter.
“Let me just change her first, then you two can go on your farm adventure,” I said, taking Stella from Max’s arms and quickly running back to her room to change her diaper.
When I got back to the kitchen, Max was back reading something on his phone; those hot nerd glasses were back on his face. When he saw the two of us, his smile beamed and I was struck stupid by the intense happiness that radiated from him.
He reached out his arms and Charlie all but threw herself into them, ready to get started with her day.
I let out a light sigh in concession as I transferred her into his arms and I brushed the curls away from Charlie’s forehead to lean in and give her a kiss.
I was met with not only the sweet smell of my little girl, but the manly smell of what I can only assume was Max’s aftershave. It was a heady mixture of leather, spice, and vanilla. It took nearly all my willpower not to lean in and sniff a line up his neck like a creep .
“Be good for Max.” I reminded my daughter, waving a finger at her.
“Mass!!” she repeated in her attempt at saying Max and patting him gently on the cheek. She laid her head on his shoulder and tears welled up in my eyes.
My girl was falling for this rugged cowboy just as fast as I was. Neither of us had ever known unconditional love, but we were learning quickly what it was like to have people in our corner who genuinely cared.
“Go.” Max said sternly, pushing me towards the hallway.
With a light laugh, I retreated to my room for the longest shower imaginable. I was about to shave everything, exfoliate, wash and blow dry my hair, the works. Eventually, Max would reap the benefits of all of this work, I’m sure.
If he continued to shower my daughter and me with the kind of love and attention one reserves for the most precious people in the world, I wouldn’t be able to resist his charms for much longer.