Page 28

Story: Wild Heart

Three days had gone by and the rain had passed. By late morning, the clouds had begun to part, drawing long streaks of light across the still-wet land. Drops of water shimmered on the pine needles like pearls, and the air smelled of bark, earth, and cleanliness.

Natalie slipped away from the clinic before the others arrived, her footsteps soft against the gravel path.

She needed space. She climbed the trail to the small rise above the sanctuary, the one Mason had once taken her to, early in the spring when the trees were still bare.

It was quiet up there. Removed. You could see the entire sanctuary from above: the winding paths between enclosures, the low roofs of the cabins, the open stretch of field where they released the rehabilitated animals into the wild.

It had always felt like a place between two worlds.

Today, she needed that. She sat on a flat rock at the ridge’s edge, pulling her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them.

A light breeze stirred her hair. In the distance, the wolves stirred, low calls echoing through the valley like echoes of something ancient.

They seemed to always know when something was shifting in the air.

She placed a hand against her stomach. It felt too early to feel anything.

No flutter, no swell. Just the knowledge that something had begun.

Something impossible and enormous. She hadn’t told anyone.

Not yet. The knowledge of it was still too fresh, too delicate.

The idea of voicing it out loud felt like tempting fate.

But she needed to speak. Even if no one was listening.

She looked down, a soft breath escaping her lips.

“Can I do this?” She whispered.

Her voice sounded small in the open air, like it didn’t quite belong to her. She shifted slightly and pressed her palm firmer against her belly.

“I don’t know how to protect you. I don’t know if I’m strong enough to be your mother. But I want to be.”

Tears pricked her eyes, but she blinked them back. “Your father… he’s a good man. Complicated, flawed, and sometimes too silent for his own good. But he loves fiercely. I know that. I’ve seen it in the way he touches the animals, in the way he looks at the land, in the way he’s trying with Davey.”

Her voice wavered. “I’ve loved and been betrayed before,” she said softly. “Your… well, the man I used to be married to, he broke something in me. And I thought Mason was the person who helped me rebuild. Maybe he still is. Maybe he always will be. But I can’t tell.”

A hawk cried high above, its wings slicing against the sky, circling.

“I wish I could give you certainty. A name. A story with a clear beginning and a happily-ever-after. But the truth is, I don’t even know what tomorrow will look like.”

She paused, her fingers gently stroking the fabric over her stomach .

“But I do know this: You are already loved. Even in this moment. Even in my fear.”

Her throat tightened. “You are not a mistake. You are not a fix. You are a beginning. Yours. And mine.”

The wind picked up again, lifting her hair and brushing it back from her face like a mother’s hand.

Natalie closed her eyes. She imagined holding the tiny weight of a child against her chest. A heartbeat tucked close to her own.

A pair of eyes looking up at her with trust. A name whispered into the night like a promise.

The tears came then, not the kind that poured out in waves, but the kind that slipped down the cheek without sound. Grief. Joy. Memory. Hope. All of it, together.

And then a moment of pure clarity. This was how Olivia might have felt. Alone, uncertain with choices to make but still, full of love for her unborn child. The thought was freeing.

When she finally stood, the sun had broken fully through the clouds. The wet earth glistened, and the trees shone as if newly washed. She brushed her hands on her jeans and looked down once more, her voice quiet and certain.

“You and me,” she said. “No matter what comes next.”

And then she turned toward the sanctuary below, toward everything that was waiting.

The community gathering had been Olivia’s idea, a thank-you celebration for volunteers, donors, and town council members.

A way to mark the beginning of the sanctuary’s next chapter.

Folding chairs dotted the open lawn, fire pits glowed beneath the wide Colorado sky, and a string of white lights swayed above the tables like stars caught in a net.

Laughter drifted across the field. Someone had brought a fiddle and was playing tunes near the grill, while kids darted between picnic tables chasing each other with glow sticks. On the surface, everything shimmered with lightness. But Natalie felt like she was walking underwater.

The sounds around her, cheerful conversation, clinking glasses, distant music, were muffled, dreamlike. She moved from group to group offering polite smiles and vague nods, but her gaze searched for one person only. Mason.

Her hands shook when no one was looking.

She had rehearsed the words again and again since she’d climbed down from that ridge.

She had written them in her journal. Whispered them to herself in the mirror.

But none of her practice had prepared her for this.

Her special secret was heavy. Tucked beneath her ribs.

Pressed behind her lungs. Living in her belly. And tonight, it had to be spoken.

She glanced around the gathering and spotted him near the back fence, speaking with Davey.

Firelight lit the edges of his jaw, turning his profile to bronze.

He wore his flannel shirt open over a gray T-shirt, the sleeves pushed up, revealing forearms marked with tiny scratches and the kind of calluses earned by real work.

His hair, a little longer now, lifted in the breeze, and when he laughed at something Davey said, his whole face changed.

He looked young. Lighter. Hopeful.

That made her chest contract. She felt Olivia appear beside her, like a ghost stepping into view.

“You okay?” her friend asked quietly, offering her a cup of cider.

Natalie nodded too quickly. “I’m fine. Just… thinking.”

“You’ve been thinking so hard you haven’t spoken all night.”

Natalie tried to laugh but it caught in her throat. “Do you think he’ll be happy? When I tell him my news.”

Olivia gasped, then smiled and didn’t ask who or why or what. She didn’t need to. Her expression softened, and she looked out across the crowd to where Mason and Davey stood.

“I think he’ll be something,” Olivia said. “You’ll never know which until you tell him.”

Natalie drew in a long, shaky breath. “I’m terrified.”

Olivia placed a hand gently on her arm. “That just means it matters.”

She nodded once, then handed back the cider, untouched, and turned toward Mason.

Her feet felt heavy, like every step toward him was encumbered by baggage from the past, the shadow of betrayals, and the unknown of what this revelation would shift between them.

“Mason?” she said when she reached him.

He turned instantly, as though he’d been waiting for her voice. His eyes searched her face, cautious and open all at once.

“Can we talk?”

His shoulders tensed, but he nodded. “Of course.”

Davey looked between them and murmured something about grabbing more firewood, vanishing into the blur of flickering lights and laughter.

Natalie led Mason away from the center of the lawn, past the tables and glowing lanterns, past the music and warmth, toward the edge of the pasture. Here, the shadows thickened, and the sounds of celebration blurred into the quiet of rustling grass.

They stood a few feet apart, the space between them alive with things unsaid.

She looked down, then up. Then down again. Her fingers curled into fists and unfurled again.

“I don’t know how to say this,” she began, voice barely above a whisper.

Mason stepped forward slightly. “Just say it. ”

She drew a breath like she was plunging underwater. “I’m pregnant.”

The words tumbled out and hung there, unanchored. For a heartbeat, nothing moved.

Then Mason blinked. His lips parted slightly. “You’re…?”

“Yes.” Her voice cracked. “I found out last week. I wasn’t sure… I mean, I’ve been sure. Just not sure how to tell you.”

The wind tugged gently at her hair as the truth landed between them. Mason exhaled hard. A long, stunned silence followed. Natalie’s chest rose and fell with quick, shallow breaths. She wrapped her arms around herself.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” she said, her voice raw. “I didn’t know how. Things between us… they were already so fragile. And I didn’t want this to feel like more weight on top of everything. I didn’t want to feel like a complication.”

“You’re not a complication,” Mason said, stepping closer.

His eyes shone, though with what, she couldn’t tell. Shock. Awe. Maybe fear.

“I just…” he hesitated, running a hand through his hair. “This is… I didn’t expect…”

“I didn’t either,” she said, and suddenly her voice cracked wide open. “But it’s real. And it’s happening. And I don’t want to do it alone.”

Mason looked like he wanted to reach for her, but hesitated. “You want this baby, with me?”

Natalie pressed a hand to her belly, her fingers trembling. “Yes. I do.”

That changed something in his face. His posture softened. The line of his jaw unclenched.

“Then I want to be there.”

She looked up at him, tears brimming now. “It’s not just about the baby. It’s about us. About everything we haven’t said.”

“I know,” he said. “And we’ll say it. All of it. If you’re willing. ”

She nodded slowly. “I’m willing.”

He reached out, but still didn’t touch her. Instead, he held out his hand.

She stared at it for a long moment, then placed hers in his.

It was not a perfect ending. It was a beginning.