Page 20 of Mountain Man's City Girl

Across the room, Jade kneels beside an open cardboard box, carefully removing wrapped bundles. Even after all this time, the sight of her stops my breath for a moment.

"She's been asking for you all morning," Jade says, glancing up with a smile that still hits me like sunlight after too long in shadow. "Apparently, I'm boring."

"Not possible." I cross to her, Mia balanced on my hip, and lean down for a kiss. She tastes like coffee and the sourdough toast she makes every morning. "What's all this?"

"Prints for the studio wall." She unwraps another package, revealing a black and white photograph of aspen trees in winter, their trunks stark against snow. "The gallery showing went so well, I thought I'd refresh my workspace. Maybe hang some at the visitor center too, if they like them."

I nod, remembering the opening night last month. Jade's wilderness photographs displayed in the small gallery in town, people from three counties coming to see them. Her name in the local paper.

Mia squirms in my arms, reaching for the prints with jam-sticky hands. "No, no, little bear," I say, shifting her away. "Those aren't toys."

Too late. She lunges forward with surprising strength, grabbing the edge of a print Jade has just unwrapped. "Mia!" Jade exclaims, but she's laughing even as she tries to rescue the photograph.

I set Mia down, distracting her with a wooden toy from the coffee table. When I look back, I see what she nearly destroyed: the portrait Jade took of me that first day at the fire tower. Iremember how exposed I felt in that moment—seen in a way I hadn't been in years.

"George asked if we're coming to the summer festival planning meeting next week. Apparently, they need someone to lead the wilderness hikes again."

"We'll be there." She leans into me slightly. "Though I told him you'd only do it if they finally fix that section of trail you've been complaining about for two years."

"It's a hazard," I mutter, and she laughs, the sound still the brightest thing in any room.

Mia toddles back over, having already abandoned the toy, and plops herself down in the small space between us. She pats the photograph with startling gentleness, then looks up at me with her mother's eyes. "Dada," she says, this time with perfect clarity.

Something in my chest tightens. This never gets old—the wonder of her, of us. The life we've built that I never imagined could be mine. For so long, I thought silence was safety. Now I know that some kinds of noise—her laughter, Mia's endless chatter, the creak of floorboards under familiar feet—are their own form of peace.

Jade stacks the prints carefully, setting them aside. "I have something to show you," she says, and there's a new note in her voice—something expectant, almost nervous.

She stands, crossing to her camera bag on the counter. Instead of pulling out her camera, though, she retrieves something small and white. When she turns back to me, her eyes are bright with a secret.

"What is it?" I ask, rising to my feet, Mia now clinging to my leg like a small, determined koala.

Jade holds out her hand, and I see what she's holding: a pregnancy test. Two pink lines clearly visible.

"Ready for round two?" she asks, her voice soft but steady.

The world stops for a moment. I stare at the small plastic stick, then at her face—flushed, hopeful, a little anxious. Another child. Another piece of us, of this life we've created together.

I reach for her, pulling her against me with my free arm, Mia still attached to my leg. "Yes," I say simply, the word carrying everything I can't articulate. Joy. Fear. Gratitude. "Always yes, with you."

She melts against me, her body relaxing with relief. "I wasn't sure—I know we talked about it, but—"

"Jade." I tilt her chin up, meeting her eyes. "You and Mia... you gave me a life I never thought I deserved. Another child with you..." I struggle to find the words, emotion making my throat tight. "It's more than I ever imagined possible."

Her smile breaks like dawn. "That's a yes, then?"

"That's a yes."

Mia, sensing the shift in mood, begins patting both our legs impatiently. "Up!" she demands. "Up, up!"

Jade laughs and scoops her into her arms, settling her between us. I wrap my arms around them both, these wild, beautiful creatures who somehow found me in my solitude and refused to leave me there.

Mia wriggles and laughs, a sound like small bells. Jade's eyes meet mine over our daughter's head, full of promises and plans and a future unfolding before us. This, I think. This is mine.

And I am theirs.