Page 39 of The Careless Alpha

“Mostly. Rita and Mrs. Walker have been bringing me things. It’s… a lot.”

“This town looks after its own,” he said simply. He was quiet for a moment, and I knew what was coming. It was the question every kind-hearted person eventually, gently, asked. “Have you, uh… heard from the father?”

My hand flew to my belly like a shield. “No. He’s not part of the picture, Tom. It’s just me and the baby.” My voice was firm, a line I had practiced drawing in the sand.

Tom didn’t push. He just nodded, his gaze softening with an understanding that went beyond pity. “You know,” he said, his voice dropping lower. “When my wife, Suzie, was pregnant with our first, our Katie… I was scared spitless.”

I looked up, surprised. It was hard to imagine this solid, capable man being scared of anything.

“Oh, yeah,” he chuckled, a self-deprecating sound. “I was twenty-two, barely making ends meet with this store. We had a tiny apartment, as small as yours. I remember looking at this little crib we’d put together and thinking, ‘What in God’s name do I know about being a father? How am I supposed to protect this little person?’” He shook his head at the memory. “My hands were shaking so bad I could barely hold her when the nurse passed her to me.”

He looked at me then, and his eyes were full of a gentle, paternal warmth that made my throat tighten.

“My point is, kid, everyone’s scared. Everyone feels like they’re making it up as they go. The important thing isn’t being perfect. It’s showing up. It’s trying your best, day after day. And you…” He paused, and his voice grew thick with emotion. “You’re doing that. You showed up here with nothing but a bag and a whole world of hurt, and you’ve built a life. You work hard, you’re kind, and you’re going to be a wonderful mother.”

Tears pricked my eyes, and I blinked them back furiously. This raw, unconditional support felt more foreign and more precious than anything I had ever known.

“You’re not alone in this, you hear me?” he said, his voice firm now. “Rita, me, the whole damn town. We’re your family, and family shows up.”

“Thank you, Tom,” I whispered, the words feeling utterly inadequate against the weight of his kindness.

“Alright, enough of that.” He clapped his hands together, all business again, saving me from the embarrassment of my tears. “Let’s get you a can of ‘First Light.’ My treat. A birthday present.”

“Tom, no, I can’t let you—”

“You’re not letting me do anything,” he interrupted gently. “I’m telling you this is a gift. Now, you’ll need a roller, a pan, some of that blue tape… let’s get you set up right.”

As he gathered the supplies, talking me through the best way to prep the wall, I felt a profound sense of peace settle over me. I had lost my father years ago and then Alpha Orion, but here, in a hardware store that smelled of sawdust and honest work, I had found something just as precious.

He finished loading a box with everything I would need and set it on the counter. "Alright, I'll bring this by tomorrow morning."

"Thank you, Tom, really. I can carry it—"

He held up a hand, stopping me. "You shouldn't be breathing in paint fumes anyway," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "And you definitely shouldn't be up on a stool trying to reach the high corners. I'll come by tomorrow and put the coat on for you. It'll take me an hour, tops."

"Tom, you've already given me the paint. You can't spend your free time painting my room," I protested, feeling overwhelmed by his generosity.

He just looked at me, his expression kind but firm, and pointed a thumb back at his chest. "What did I just say? Family shows up. Now get out of here and put your feet up." He smiled, and the warmth of it chased away any further argument. "Happy birthday, kid."

After leaving the hardware store, I walked down to the harbor, needing the peace that only the ocean seemed toprovide. Before long, the early evening light turned the water gold, and fishing boats were returning with their daily catch. Seagulls wheeled overhead, their cries mixing with the sound of waves against the pier.

I settled onto a bench and placed my hand on my bump, marveling at the life growing inside me. Four months pregnant with an alpha heir, and the only person who would ever know that supernatural significance was me.

He's strong,Sapphire said with maternal pride.I can feel his wolf stirring already.

"Will he be okay without a pack?" I asked silently. "Without other wolves to teach him?"

We will teach him. We will love him. We will make sure he knows his worth. Maybe we will find another pack.

A gentle flutter in my abdomen made me gasp. The baby, moving more definitively than the butterflies I'd described to Dr. Harrison. My son, making his presence known on the day I'd officially become an adult.

"Hello, little one," I whispered, tears streaming down my face. "I know today isn't what we planned. I know your father should be here, should be holding us both and celebrating what we mean to each other. But we're going to be okay. We're going to build something beautiful, just the two of us."

The movement came again, stronger this time, as if he were responding to my voice.

Three of us,Sapphire corrected gently.We are three, and we are whole.

I sat on that bench until the sun began to set, watching the lights come on in houses across the harbor. Watching families settling in for the evening, parents helping children with homework, couples cooking dinner together. The life I'd thought I was destined for, the future that had been mapped out since I was thirteen.