Page 33 of Wild Heart
Summer in the mountains held a different kind of light. It was golden and forgiving, like something slowly exhaling. The sanctuary was soaked in it, every pine needle and barn plank gilded, every breath of wind laced with the whisper of coming change.
The fields were soft with grass that bowed under its own weight, and wildflowers clung stubbornly to the edges of the trail, as if refusing to surrender to even a hint of Autumn.
A soft breeze stirred the tall grass and carried with it the scent of warm earth, hay, and the faint musk of fur from the enclosures just beyond the grove of birch.
Natalie stood beneath the overhang of the barn roof, one hand resting at the base of her rounded belly, the other holding a mug of herbal tea that had long since cooled.
Her hair was caught in a loose braid that hung over one shoulder, and her dress, soft, cotton, sea-glass blue, fluttered gently against her legs.
She was thirty-eight weeks along now, and her body felt every bit of it.
Still, her face glowed with anticipation, and her eyes shimmered with the quiet kind of joy that comes not from perfection, but from peace hard-won .
“Look at them,” she said softly.
Olivia stood beside her, sipping from her own mug. Her cane leaned against the wall, forgotten for the moment. She wore a loose cream cardigan, the sleeves rolled up as always, her hair pulled back in a knot that had begun to come loose.
Together, they watched Mason and Davey down by the fence line, where the northern enclosures backed into the rise of forest. The two men moved in perfect rhythm, clearing brush, repairing sections of fence damaged by the last rainstorm.
Davey carried lumber while Mason bent to measure and hammer, their voices low and easy in conversation.
Occasionally, one would laugh and the other would toss a reply, a quiet back-and-forth built not just on shared purpose, but something deeper. Something earned.
“He’s proud of Davey,” Olivia said, a softness in her voice.
“And Davey…” Natalie smiled faintly. “He’s finally letting someone be proud of him.”
It had taken months of patience and small, unspoken steps.
But now the bond between father and son had solidified into something unshakeable.
They worked through Christmas, a time of unbridled happiness at the sanctuary, battling a harsh winter not just as colleagues, but as kin.
Their movements were seamless. Their trust in each other unmistakable.
Natalie felt her baby shift, a low, strong roll and she placed both hands beneath her belly, bracing for the wave of tightness.
“Is that a kick?” Olivia asked, amused.
“No. That was a tumble,” Natalie said. “They like to somersault when Mason’s near. I think they already know his voice.”
Olivia reached out and touched her shoulder, grounding. “They’ll know how deeply they’re loved. From the very beginning.”
A hush settled between them again as the sunlight deepened, casting long shadows from the trees onto the gravel path that wove between the enclosures.
“Have you and Mason talked more about the wedding?” Olivia asked.
Natalie nodded. “We want to do it after the baby arrives. Just something small. Here at the sanctuary. Under the trees.”
“Barefoot and beautiful?” Olivia grinned.
“Exactly.” Natalie laughed, and then quieter, “I want our child to be there. Even if they’re only a few months old. I want them to grow up knowing their parents made a promise with their feet in the dirt and the people who love them all around.”
Olivia’s eyes misted. “That sounds like something worth waiting for.”
The sun shifted again, casting a golden glow over Mason’s back as he leaned to lift a post, his shoulders flexing with the effort. Davey reached out to help, and together they raised it in place. For a moment, their silhouettes aligned so perfectly it made Natalie’s throat catch.
She blinked, sudden tears burning at the corners of her eyes.
Something inside her stirred, not fear, not quite. Just a ripple. Like when the forest goes quiet before a storm. Like knowing change was coming.
“You okay?” Olivia asked, noticing the change in her posture.
Natalie nodded. “Yeah. Just... emotional.”
Olivia chuckled. “Pregnancy’ll do that to you.”
Natalie didn’t answer. She was still watching Mason, who had turned and, as if sensing her gaze, looked up at her.
Their eyes met across the distance. He smiled.
And that’s when she knew. Something in her heart pushed in, urgently, fiercely, with the simple truth that this, this exact day, might be one of the last golden ones.
That life had a way of turning without warning.
And that joy, if not fully lived in, could vanish before it ever had the chance to take root .
She raised her hand to him. He waved back, mouth moving silently with a phrase she’d come to know well. I love you.
She smiled, blinking fast. “I love you too,” she whispered.
Beside her, Olivia placed a hand on the small of her back. “Come on,” she said gently. “Let’s go sit before that baby decides to take over your ribcage again.”
Natalie laughed, and they walked together toward the porch, the scent of lavender and sun-warmed wood rising around them, while down below, two men worked side by side, father and son, framed in the clean light of summer.
And above them, a hawk circled. Silent. Watching. Foreshadowing something only the wind seemed to understand.