Chapter 15 #2
The compromise feels right in a way the documentary opportunity doesn’t.
Our strength as advocates comes from our relationship and our genuine commitment to the work, not from media attention or national recognition.
“I’ll call Clark back and decline, though I’ll mention our workshop programs in case National Geographic wants to feature those instead of us personally. ”
Josh’s relief is visible in the way his shoulders relax and his expression softens. “Thank you.”
I tilt my head. “For what?”
“For choosing us over the opportunity to be famous for being us.”
I rest a hand on his shoulder. “You hate the idea. That’s enough for me to say no. I’ll always choose you over anything else, love.”
He pulls me in for a long hug. “Choosing each other is what keeps us going.”
That evening, we settle onto our porch swing with contentment that’s become the foundation of our daily routine.
October in the Catskills brings early darkness and the need for blankets, though the weather is still mild enough for outdoor relaxation.
Josh’s arm around my shoulders creates the perfect anchor for discussing future plans without the pressure of immediate decisions.
“I’ve been thinking about the Henderson consultation,” I say while we watch stars appear over the mountains. “Their success with organic transition is exactly the model other operations need to see.”
“Emma thinks we should document their process for the agriculture extension program.”
I’m intrigued. “Via filming?”
He shakes his head. “She thinks a written case study with photos is more practical. Families can reference it without feeling like they’re being sold a lifestyle, and they can download it from the extension office’s website.” He presses a kiss to the top of my head.
“I like that approach better too.” I settle more comfortably against his warmth. “Speaking of documentation, I have something to tell you.”
He immediately tenses, and his pheromones betray a hint of anxiety. “Good something or concerning something?”
“Potentially wonderful something, though also terrifying something.” I take a breath, gathering courage for news I’ve been keeping secret for three days while figuring out how to share it. “I’m pregnant.”
The silence stretches long enough for me to worry about his reaction but then Josh’s arms tighten around me with an intensity that suggests joy rather than concern. “Pregnant.” His voice carries wonder and barely controlled excitement. “How pregnant?”
“Going by my last period, I think about eight weeks. I took a test three days ago when Emma came to check on Midnight. I asked her to pick it up for me in town since I was too busy to get there that day.” I turn to see his face in the dim light from the kitchen window.
“She said I should tell you immediately. I wanted to be sure before getting your hopes up, so I took the second test in the pack this morning, and it was also positive.”
He’s beaming. “My hopes were already up. I’ve been hoping for this since our honeymoon.”
I lick my lips. “Really?” We haven’t really discussed it yet, other than knowing we both want a family someday. I guess ‘someday’ will be about thirty-two weeks from now.
“Definitely, though I was trying not to pressure you about timing.” He shifts position to look at me directly. “How are you feeling about it?”
“Excited and terrified in exactly equal measures.” I lean into his touch as he puts his hand on my stomach. “Our child is going to inherit stubbornness from both sides of the family. They’ll probably be impossible to manage and absolutely determined to do everything their own way.”
He chuckles. “Poor kid won’t stand a chance against two parents who think they know better than everyone else.”
“They’ll keep us entertained for the next eighteen years.” I laugh at the truth of it. “Maybe longer if they decide to take over ranch operations and revolutionize our methods with whatever technology exists by then.”
“Or maybe they’ll rebel completely and become accountants.”
I mock shudder. “That would serve us right for being so invested in sustainable agriculture.”
We sit together processing the change that will transform our partnership of two into a family of three. The ranch stretches around us in comfortable darkness, cattle settling for the night while the mountains stand sentinel over the valley that’s become our world.
“Are you worried about anything specific?” Josh asks.
“I’m worried about balancing motherhood with advocacy work and labor and delivery and whether I’ll be a good mother.” I pause my sudden deluge of words, considering deeper fears. “Mostly, I’m worried about changing in ways that affect what we’ve built together.”
“You’ll be an amazing mother because you approach everything with intelligence and determination.” His confidence in me is absolute and reassuring. “Nothing will change what we’ve built because our relationship is strong enough to grow instead of just adapting.”
I stare into his eyes. “You really believe that?”
“I know it. We’ve already proven we can handle major changes without losing what makes us work.” He pulls the blanket higher around both of us as the evening air grows cooler. “Besides, think about what kind of role models our child will have.”
“A mother and father who are too stubborn to quit when things get difficult.”
“Exactly. That kid will be unstoppable.”
We fall asleep on the porch swing sometime before ten p.m., wrapped in blankets and each other’s arms while surrounded by the sounds of ranch life settling into nighttime rhythms. We’re exactly where we belong, which is in each other’s arms.
In the distance, a coyote calls to its pack, and the sound is enough to briefly rouse me. I think about suggesting we move inside to the bedroom as Josh’s arm tightens around me in automatic protection even in sleep, but I’m too cozy to leave the swing.