We don’t know yet whether it’s a boy or a girl. We’re waiting to be surprised on delivery day. But we already know that either way, no matter who our baby turns out to be, they’re going to have a beautiful, perfect life out here in the countryside. We’re going to make sure of it.
Smiling now, with the sight of our productive fields in my mind, I stroll out across the fresh grass, barefoot like always now. I’ve always hated shoes, but never so much as I do since this bun turned up in my oven. Now, when I have to run into town for errands, I can’t wait to get home if only to kick off my shoes off and feel the grass between my toes, the solid dirt under my feet.
Just another thing I’d forgotten about before, back in my city life. Back when I forgot who I was, what I loved, what kept my heart beating and my mind alive with excitement.
It took Grant to remind me. To show me that everything I thought I had to run away to find was really waiting for me back here all along. Just like him. My man that got away—recaptured once and for all.
“Grant?” I call out, crossing around the house toward the front.
Then I spy him, and I pause in my tracks for a moment, watching.
He’s up on a ladder in the tire swing tree. From the coil around his arm, I can see he’s re-stringing the rope with a new one, one he must have picked up from Hank and Etna earlier today. He’s bent over his work, busy, so I don’t disturb him yet. I just slowly stroll closer, my eyes raking over his form as he works. I let my gaze linger on his strong biceps, his muscular back. He’s got his shirt on, but it’s warm out here for an early summer evening, and that shirt sticks to his skin, shows off his muscles to perfection.
I drink in the sight as I meander closer, watching him work.
Only when I’m about five feet away does he finally hear my feet padding in the grass and glance back over his shoulder. His eyes catch mine, and my heart flips over in my chest, the same way it always does whenever we see each another. The same way it has since the moment I laid eyes on him out in front of this farm, almost a year ago when I pulled up this driveway. I’ll never get sick of the way his eyes light up when they catch mine, like I’m everything he’s ever dreamed of and more.
“Hey honey,” he calls as he finishes tying off the rope. He runs his hand through his hair, pressing it back from his forehead, and my gaze drifts to his arms again, the bulge of his muscles, the delicate trace of his veins.
“Hey babe,” I call back. “What are you up to?” I squint at the rope and lift an eyebrow. “Decided this was unsafe after all?”
He laughs and starts to climb down the ladder, glancing from me to the swing and back again. “I still think it would’ve held our weight,” he says. “But better safe than sorry.” He reaches the ground and shrugs, giving the rope a solid tug. “I wanted to make this safe in time for our kid to enjoy it.”
I glance from the rope to the tire at the bottom, then lean against the tree and cross my arms. “Well?” I ask.
He lifts his eyebrows. “Well what?”
“You going to finish?” I nod my chin toward the tire. “I think if you’re trying to make this stable for our kid, then we’d better give it a go first.” My smile widens. “You know. Just to be safe. And maybe for old time’s sake.”
He laughs softly. But he reaches down and scoops up the tire anyway, and starts to loop the end of the rope around it. “Anything you want,” he replies with a wink. “It’s yours.”
I wait until he’s finished tying off the swing to approach. He offers me a hand, and helps me up onto the tire. I grip the rope tightly, then he wraps one hand around mine, extra pressure to hold me there, and steps onto the opposite side of the tire. The branch doesn’t even creak, even when Grant bounces a little to test our weight.
“Seems sturdy to me,” he says, eyes locked on mine. “But we haven’t done the full test…” Without another warning, he reaches down to kick us off the ground into a slight swing. I squeal, though of course with his hand around mine, holding me to the rope, there’s no danger in me falling off.
We swing gently back and forth, eyes locked on one another, and I chill runs through my body at how familiar this is.