Page 24 of Love on the Mountain

“What are you thinking about, love?” my husband asks as he comes up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist.

I lean against his chest and rest my head on his shoulder. “Just about the life we’ve built and the people we’ve surrounded ourselves with,” I tell him with a contented smile.

It’s true. Over the last decade, Wilder and I have had three beautiful children—Kaden, our ten-year-old, Max, our six-year-old, and Tina, our three-year-old. Even with building up the old mining town, which we’ve since renamed Serenity, and raising our kids, my husband has always ensured I have time to write and sketch to my heart’s desire.

I don’t travel as much as I used to, but Wilder planned a haunted hike across the Smoky Mountains one year, which gave me a lot of content. He also picks at least one or two haunted places a year to take me to as a special treat for the two of us.

Between my writing and art, I have a decent side hustle while still having the flexibility to take care of my kids and help out around town with whoever needs it. The authority structure is a bit loose, but for the most part, people have been fine governing themselves. That’s why most people move all the way out here in the first place.

“Have we done a good job?” Wilder asks, nuzzling into the side of my neck. He presses the softest kiss there, making me sigh sweetly.

“The best. I love our lives. Thank you for finding me all those years ago,” I whisper.

“Thank you for saving me from myself,” he murmurs back. “I love you more today than I did back then, and I know I’ll love you even more tomorrow.”

My lips find his, sealing our promises with a kiss.

THE END