Make Me a Mommy: A Mother's Day Secret Baby Romance

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Make Me a Mommy: A Mother's Day Secret Baby Romance Page 21

by Liz K. Lorde


  They both would do whatever it takes to make sure the other one doesn’t get ahead.

  I can’t stand the fucking competitiveness. As far as I’m concerned, there’s enough in the world to go around for everyone.

  I mean, fuck—how many fucking millions does my family need? How many does her family need? Margot and I were on the same page. We were just happy to be in each other’s company.

  The night her life was threatened still haunts me in my dreams. I was lucky to save her from the burning building. The thanks she gave me will stay with me for the rest of my life.

  It has to—since I won’t ever fucking see her again.

  Remembering that I won’t see her again breaks my heart every time. I would give away the family fucking fortune just to see her face, her smile, her eyes, and her ass.

  She’s got the best ass I’ve seen on any woman.

  Stop.

  My feet stop moving. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the light brown fur.

  There’s my meal for the next few days. I slow my step and try to take deep breaths. If the animal were to spot me now, it would run far away and over the next mountain.

  Timing is going to be everything. I need to fucking time this right.

  To concentrate on my timing, I need to stop dreaming or drooling about Margot.

  It’s in the past. Let it go.

  But I can’t.

  Her ghost haunts me all the time. It’s worse than if she died. I’ve got no corpse to mourn.

  On the contrary, I’ve got nothing to mourn, other than the way our families are toward each other.

  Okay, so there’s more to this than meets the eye. I mean she might not even like the idea of living out here with me if I ever saw her again and asked her. But then again, maybe she would.

  When we were together at college, she was like my best friend.

  Maybe I should write to her?

  I should fucking stop thinking about her and focus on the deer. It still has its head down, foraging for food.

  To get close, I need to be super quiet.

  I glance around. The wind blows from the other direction.

  It won’t pick up my scent until I’m nearly upon it.

  By then, it’ll hopefully be too fucking late.

  My knife is in a little pocket on my camouflage pants. Once I’m closer, I’ll be able to pull it out with one swift movement.

  I plan to cut the animal’s throat. Give it a quick and painless death. I don’t like seeing animals suffer.

  I can’t stand the hunters coming up to shoot for sport. In fact, those words—“shoot for sport”—should be outlawed. Shooting an innocent animal, an animal who can’t defend itself is brutal murder, not sport.

  I shake my head again.

  I was never going to get any dinner this way. Too much fucking navel gazing and philosophizing wasn’t good for anyone, and it was, especially, not good for me.

  Gingerly, I inch forward. By now, I’m almost on all fours, blending in with my surroundings. From my estimate, the deer is about twenty steps away. It’s not close enough for me to lunge myself at it.

  Ten more steps.

  Dinner—sorry, I mean the deer—lifts its head. It’s sniffing the air, turning his head away from me to its left.

  The ripple through his body tells me it heard something. I heard it, too.

  It’s a low grumbling, the kind that thunder makes. My eyes scan the sky above us before moving to the horizon. Blue sky as far as the eye can see.

  Of course, thunder isn’t the only thing that makes that noise. There’s something else, something far more dangerous.

  Landslide.

  I straighten up. The grumble increases. My right foot steps on a twig.

  Snap.

  Now the deer’s ears twitch, and I realize I’ve got less than two seconds before it’ll take off.

  Just as I’m about to throw myself onto the animal, I see half the side of the mountain ahead of me come loose and crash downward.

  At the same time, I hear a blood-curdling high-pitched scream.

  It was a familiar scream. I’ve heard screams like that before.

  Only people who fucking fear for their lives scream like that; it’s high-pitched and ear piercing.

  The deer takes off, and so do I. Without thinking, I race toward the sound of the cry for help. All of my rescue instincts kick in, and suddenly, I’m on auto-pilot.

  There are no thoughts of hiding from this person who’s obviously in danger.

  Time to save someone’s life.

  Margot

  “If you stand by the rock, I’ll take a photo,” I call out to Amelia who, by now, is too far ahead of me. It makes my heart beat faster, and sweat pour down my back.

  I watch my little girl turn, skid on the gravel path and hesitate. To emphasize my intention, I hold up my camera for her to see. Usually, she can’t resist the temptation of a photo.

  Sure enough, she turns and skips back to me.

  “Here?”

  She’s out of breath, and her knees are dirty and a little blood-smeared.

  “Looks good.”

  I hold up my camera and look through the viewfinder.

  “Smile.”

  I take several shots.

  “Wait, Amelia,” I call to her as she’s about to take off again.

  Amelia turns toward me.

  “Yes, Mommy?”

  The way she looks at me makes my heart melt. It’s amazing how much my life’s changed since she’s turned up.

  I walk up to her and lean down toward her to kiss the tip of her nose. At the same time, I ruffle her hair.

  “You need to stay away from the edge, sweety.”

  Her big brown eyes look up at me.

  “Why, Mommy?”

  I chuckle.

  I barely remember a time when there wasn’t the ‘why’ question in my life.

  Amelia, these days, seems to constantly ask why.

  Nothing happens without the why question. If I tell her to wash her hands, she’ll ask why. If I tell her to eat her dinner, she’ll ask why. Sometimes it can get wearing.

  With a sigh, I squat down beside her and take hold of her hand.

  “Well,” I start and watch her jump from her left to her right foot, unable to stand still, joie de vivre flowing through her in abundance, so much so that she’s barely able to stand still.

  All my little girl wants to do is live life to the fullest and make the most of every second of the day. It’s great to see, but it’s also hard work at times, like today.

  “See how it’s steep down there?” I point to my left to the edge of the path. “If you run too close to the path and trip you might go tumbling down, and then what am I going to do?”

  She scrunches up her nose and squints her eyes. It’s her thinking face.

  “You would come after me and save me, Mommy.”

  I throw my arms around her to hug her.

  “Of course I would, but you might still get hurt and that wouldn’t be good.”

  Her little arms are now around my neck.

  “I’ll be fine, Mommy,” she whispers into my ear, and I love her confident sentiment.

  “Why don’t we walk together for a bit?”

  I straighten up and take her hand. She looks up at me and nods.

  We walk side by side, hand in hand, for about four strides before she breaks free and runs off again.

  “Look, Mommy,” she calls pointing at something I can’t see.

  I sigh. Maybe I should have bought one of those child restraints.

  “Mommy,” she’s come back already. “Can my photo be in your next exhibition?”

  With a chuckle, I nod.

  “Sure, why not.”

  A satisfied grin spreads across her face, and she takes off again. My eyes follow her before I look around. I take a deep breath, and inhale the crisp cool mountain air.

  It’s beautiful up here. Not a soul in sightmountains, trees, and valleys as far
as the eye can see. My keen photographer’s eye can spot plenty of fantastic shots, but it’s hard to focus on taking photos with Amelia bouncing around like an out of control gazelle.

  Trouble is, she’s not as nimble nor as coordinated as a gazelle, and has already taken a tumble earlier on the path. Luckily, she only sustained a minor graze on her knee.

  For my work, it would be better if I didn’t have her along, but being a single mom means I’ve got little choice in the matter. Generally, wherever I go, Amelia comes, too.

  I take a random shot when I hear her squeal. Instantly, I turn my attention back to my daughter.

  “Amelia,” I call and see her chasing after something.

  I breathe a sigh of relief. Phew. She wasn’t in trouble…yet.

  The edge of the path was not far from where she was running.

  “Amelia,” I call, but she pays no attention.

  Her eyes and her entire concentration are on whatever she’s following.

  “The edge, darling, remember the edge.”

  Just then, I can see what’s taken her fancy. It’s a deep blue butterfly, and, as if sensing a mother’s fear, the creature changes its flight pattern and moves away from the danger of the path’s edge.

  Quickly, I find the two in my viewfinder and take some shots before I follow.

  Amelia is laughing and clapping her hands.

  “Watch out,” I call…too late.

  Her feet find a large rock on the path, and she trips.

  Instantly, I’m by her side. She’s lying face first on the ground. It takes her a few seconds to lift her head, and when she sees blood on her hands, she starts to cry.

  Gently, I pick her up and cradle her in my arms.

  “Shhh,” I whisper into her ear, patting her head with one hand, and brushing the gravel off her knees with the other.

  Less than a minute passes, and she pulls away from me. She wipes her tear stained cheeks, sobs one last time before her lips curl into a smile again.

  It always amazes me how quickly kids turn from tears to laughter and vice versa.

  “Did you see the butterfly, mommy?”

  I nod.

  “He was so pretty.”

  “He sure was, and you know what?”

  Her eyes look at me.

  “I got a photo.”

  She claps her hands and delight spreads over hr face.

  “Can I see?”

  “Sure.”

  I scroll through the photos and show her. Amelia says nothing as she presses her button nose as close as she can onto the screen. And then she’s off again.

  To my right, I spot a flower. It’s magnificent, and I’d never seen one like it. After I throw a quick glance in Amelia’s direction and seeing she’s safe, I go take a photo of this exotic find.

  I zoom in on the deep purple petals and the pink centre. My finger adjusts the focus and then I take several shots. Before I change angle and position, I check on Amelia again.

  She’s skipping up and down the path waiting for me.

  “Come on, Mommy,” she calls.

  “In a second, sweetie. I just want to take a few more photos of this beauty.”

  “Stop,” I hear Amelia call, and I look up.

  There’s the butterfly again, and my daughter is hot on its tail. Only this time the insect is moving to the edge of the path.

  Rats.

  And then things happened too fast for me to do anything about it.

  “Amelia!” I hear myself scream, but I don’t think she heard me.

  As my voice is carried toward her, her little body disappears over the edge.

  I cover the distance faster than Bolt runs the hundred meters, and follow my little girl blindly.

  “Mommy!” she’s screaming, and I see her little face disappear down the side of the mountain, surrounded along the side by rocks.

  The ground is soft and loose from the snowmelt.

  Earth, dirt, and pebbles move past me, grabbing my daughter and taking her with them.

  Talons of fear rip into my heart, and I throw myself literally after Amelia.

  “Give me your hand,” I scream, but I’m not sure if she can hear me.

  As we keep tumbling down the mountain, I grit my teeth and reach for her. The tips of my fingers just touch her, but it’s not enough for me to grab and clutch her.

  I need to get to her. I shut out everything and try again.

  By now, Amelia’s screaming for her life. It’s high-pitched and painful to hear.

  And then, I manage to get hold of her hand. With strength I didn’t know I had, I pull her to me.

  Now she’s in my arms, I hug her to me tightly, and try to slow down our fall. But nothing seems to be working.

  Frantically, I look around for a solution to stop our plummet to certain death.

  A tree root sticking out of the ground seems to be my only hope. If I can grab it in time it might stop our fall. Stopping our fall is only the first step. By now, most of the mountain seems to be cascading toward us.

  I grab the root and hold my breath.

  I need to make this work. As my fingers wrap as tight as they can around the gnarled wood, I feel a rip in my shoulder, and my body is jolted to a sudden stop.

  Briefly, I breathe a sigh of relief.

  And then I look upwards to see how far we’ve fallen and feel a huge lump in the back of my throat.

  Holy shit.

  With the amount of rubble and other crap coming toward us, I don’t think we’re going to get out of this predicament alive. I turn my body to shield Amelia as best as I can, and send a silent prayer up to the heavens, having run out of other options.

  Boone

  I hurdle over fallen trees, I jump over giant boulders, and I leap over massive ravines to get to where the scream is coming from.

  There’s a huge amount of ground to cover, but I’m up for it.

  I’ve trained for this type of emergency. My body knows exactly what to do.

  In my fire fighting days, I was one of the best. If they needed someone to go inside a burning building, they would get me to do it. Nothing was impossible.

  Of course, I would never put my team at risk. And yet, I lost members. The knowledge still haunts me to this day.

  It happened during a rescue mission of a burning fifty-six-storey building.

  What really grates on my nerves is the entire thing could have been avoided, from the start of the fire to the attempted rescue and subsequent failure. I got out, but I wasn’t able to get my members out with me.

  A branch of a low hanging tree smacks me in the face. Tiny droplets of blood trickle down my cheek, but I ignore it.

  My feet fly across the ground. The scream is getting louder, I must be getting closer.

  Even from my distance, I can see a massive rockslide ahead of me.

  Fuck.

  Don’t tell me someone’s trapped in that!

  Rockslides can be worse than avalanches. While they don’t increase in size the way an avalanche does, they’re lethal. With the speed of the loose rocks, pebbles, and debris ever increasing, if you’re caught in it, you may as well kiss your life good bye.

  My eyes scan the grey side of the mountain. The area is particularly unstable as a result of the recent snowmelt.

  The snow lingered longer than usual. But now, all of it is gone. Unfortunately, things haven’t hardened up enough to provide much needed stability to the face of the mountain.

  Whatever has disturbed the surface, it’s done a good job. It’s so steep here, and not much grows, leaving a very unstable environment. To make matters worse, a bush fire ravaged the area severely a few years ago and destroyed some of the trees.

  Those trees provided extra support for the mountain. With the trees gone, so went the support. So far, no one has offered to help replace the dead trees or offer a different solution to stabilize the side of the mountain.

  Up here in the wilderness, you realize how small and insignificant we, humans, really
are. Nature is wonderful, powerful, and amazing all at the same time.

  Something in the middle of the steep slope catches my eye.

  It looks like a person.

  Camera-like, I zoom in on the point of interest. Definitely human, not very big though. Was it female? Quite likely.

  There was something strange about the stature though.

  As I process the information I’m picking up, I realize two others things. First, there’s a huge load of shale, rocks, and small boulders heading straight for the poor person. Second, it hits me like a fly hitting a windscreen—the “person” is actually an adult and a small child.

  The knowledge that there’s a small child in danger has me doubling my efforts. I increase my stride and pick up my speed.

  My brain is working overtime to fine tune my rescue plan. Any rescue requires an excellent plan and perfect execution. Obviously, this rescue just sprung on me, and I haven’t had time to prepare, but I’ve trained out here on my own for the last few years.

  I’ve trained for any eventuality.

  I may not have trained specifically for a potential woman and child needing to be rescued off the moving mountain face. But I’ve trained to cross a rockslide and drag a bear cub to safety.

  Only last year, a wayward baby bear caused his poor mother a ginormous headache when it played too close to the path and tumbled down this very embankment. From memory, there’s a large rock protruding from the ground some distance below where I sought shelter with said baby bear.

  By now, I’m running so fast my eyes are watering. I’m now only a few feet away from the edge. As I approach it, I get ready to jump.

  I need to make it a good one. I can’t go back and do it again, to catch up with the woman and child. By now, I can see it’s a woman. I must get there as fast as possible.

  In my mind, I count one, two, and three and then jump as if I was a ski jumper taking part in the Olympics, and going for gold.

  As I fly through the air, I scan the area. The rock I used last year is still there. From where I am, it still looks like my best option. With more shit coming down, the woman and child will be crushed unless I get them into a safer spot. I land feet first slightly to their right and skid, leaning hard into the mountain the rest of the way.

  The woman can’t see me; she’s huddled into the child. Looks like a little girl.

 

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