CHISELED: The Mountain Man's Babies

by Frankie Love

  I nod. “Yeah?”

  “What if we named them something from a children’s book?”

  “Do you have any idea how cute you are right now?” I ask him. My ovaries just about explode at his absolute tenderness.

  His face flushes bright red.

  “Oh, my gosh, you’re blushing.”

  He laughs, then pulls me to him. And just like that, I’m on his lap. My breath catches as he holds me in his arms. It is exactly where I want to be.

  “Hmm,” I say. “Children’s books... There is Wendy from Peter Pan, Madeline... Pippi?”

  He grins. “Hmm, I don’t know about those.” He twists his lips, thinking. “What about Laura, from Little House on the Prairie?”

  “You know those books?” I laugh, surprised.

  He laughs, too. “I was into the Ingalls’ family, I’m not ashamed to admit it.”

  “I like Laura. It’s sweet, but not pretentious.” I rack my brain from stories that I’ve read to the kids here on the mountain. “When I was growing up we only had bible stories to choose from,” I tell him. “I grew up on a compound... it was really ...”

  “Hard,” he says softly.

  “Yeah.”

  “Any names from Bible stories that you loved?”

  “I’m not really religious anymore, I’m still figuring that stuff out,” I admit. Then I press a hand to my forehead. “I can’t believe I’m telling you all this.”

  “I don’t know what I believe either,” he tells me. “I mostly believe in looking for the good and choosing to be brave even when it scares the shit out of you.”

  “Those are good commandments,” I say, leaning into him. “How about we name the boy Abel? He was the good twin in the story.”

  “Laura and Abel,” Bear says. “I like it.”

  I nod feeling an even stronger tie to him now that we’ve named two children together. “Me too.”

  He kisses me then, the way I had dreamt. Softly, on my lips, his hand on the base of my neck drawing me near. Our lips part and our tongues collide. I’ve been waiting for this moment since our time in the woods. Maybe I didn’t get any sleep last night, but right now my body is wide awake.

  In his lap, I feel his hardness against me, and I run my hand over his length, grateful that I live in the middle of nowhere and that I can have the pleasure of kissing him without any eyes on us.

  My body reveals how much I want him. My long nightgown rides high in my thighs as he kisses me, as my body moves to straddle him, his hands rest on my hips. We move in sync as if we both know the rhythm of this song.

  “Oh, God, Gracie,” he groans.

  “You’re so hard,” I whisper. “I’ve been thinking about your cock every day since we…”

  “Came together.”

  “Is that what you call fucking a stranger?” I ask, the salty words rolling off my lips.

  He pulls my hair in his fist. “Don’t talk like that, baby. It wasn’t fucking.”

  “What was it?”

  “Making love.”

  My body grinds against his and as I straddle him, I feel his hard tip buried in his jeans. God, how I want it buried in me.

  “You’re so wet, Gracie,” he growls in my ear, his hand running over my white panties. They are soaked through.

  “I don’t know if this is making love, but I want it. I want it so bad.”

  “Aren’t you scared of me, of what I’ve done?” he asks, his hot breath in my ear.

  “I’m more scared of what might happen to me if you don’t make me come again,” I tell him, my words hushed as desire rolls over me. I sit on top of him, his hands massaging my breasts, his mouth back on my lips, inhaling me as kiss causes a thousand pinpricks of pleasure to cascade across my skin.

  I could stay like this for hours.

  Then the babies begin to cry. Their tiny whimpers cause us to pull back. Our fingers lace, our eyes locked. I’m short of breath and our bodies are primed.

  “They need you,” he says.

  I nod. “And the social worker is coming by and I have to --”

  He cuts me off. “I know.”

  “Can we…?”

  “Tonight?”

  “Please.”

  I kiss him once more, my legs shaky and when he stands I see his erection pushing against his blue jeans.

  “Go to Abel and Laura,” he tells me. I nod, running a hand through my hair as I watch him leave.

  Picking up the babies, my blood rushes, and my body hums as loudly as the morning on the mountain.

  This is foolish and unwise. I know nothing about Bear except his name.

  Yet I know, with all my heart, I must see him again, and soon.

  10

  Bear

  “Where were you?” Virginia asks as I come in the front door. I’m feeling better than I have in years, but Virginia-- she looks worse for wear. “I was worried sick.”

  She looks it too, her eyes are bloodshot, I see several empty cans of coke on the coffee table, and her hair is greasy. Shit, my sister needs help. Help I’m not sure I can offer.

  “I told you I would be out all night,” I tell her, pulling off my flannel and setting it on the back of the kitchen chair.

  “I didn’t think you meant for the entire night.”

  “Well, now you know. I wasn’t far.”

  “The thing is, while you were gone I did something. Something kind of stupid.”

  “What do you mean, stupid?”

  “I was lonely. And… I know I shouldn’t have, but...” She bites her bottom lip, holding back tears.

  “Shit, Ginny, what did you do?”

  “I called Laila. I got reception if I stood outside behind the shed.”

  “What the fuck?” I shout. “Virginia, you’re right. That was stupid.” Running my bands over my beard, I try to listen, but my blood is boiling.

  “I know.” Her shoulders shake and she’s trembling, tears falling down her cheeks. “I’m sorry... I just... I miss her. I miss our old life...”

  ‘You mean our old life where we turned a blind eye to the illegal shit going on around us? your old life where Ricky treated you like his property? Our old life where the leader of the Badlands tried to… shit, Virginia. You shot Ricky because it was so bad. What about that life do you want?”

  “It’s the only life we know. We’re here hiding in the woods like criminals. How long will we be doing this for Bear? Forever?”

  “Long enough for the Badlands to forget us, that’s how long.”

  Well, they haven’t forgotten us yet,” she whispers.

  “What did you tell Laila?” I clench my fists to avoid punching a motherfucking wall.

  “I told her we stopped in Montana.”

  “Did you tell her where?”

  “No, but that’s because she said it would be better not to know, so Ricky couldn’t force it from her later.”

  “Ricky?” At this, my heart stops. “What do you mean, Ricky?”

  “That’s what I wanted to tell you. He didn’t die, Bear. He’s in the hospital and is getting released in a few days.”

  “No,” I say. “You shot him in the chest, Ginny. There’s no way he could have survived. I was there after the gun went off. I saw his body.”

  “I know,” she says, shaking. “But Laila says someone found his body and he was transported by helicopter to the hospital. He survived the gunshot.”

  “Did they turn us in?”

  Virginia shakes her head. “No. Laila said they told the cops it was an accident, that he’d done it himself. The last thing the Badlands wanted was a criminal investigation.”

  I exhale. I’ve been so scared of the police for the last month as we’ve been running and hiding out up here. Turns out the cops are none the wiser.

  Ricky isn’t dead.

  “Fuck,” I shout, this time burying my fist in the wall. If Ricky isn’t dead, that means he’ll be looking for vengeance. “Do they know it was you?” I ask, blood on my knuckles.
/>   Virginia nods. “Laila says he plans on making me pay.” She wipes her eyes, then reaches for a kitchen towel. She wraps it around my hand, unable to meet my gaze. “I’m sorry for calling her, Bear.”

  “I know.” I clench my jaw, hating that Virginia didn’t show more restraint. It’s gonna get us both killed.

  “Maybe we should leave, keep running?” she suggests, her voice cracking on her pain.

  The idea forces my eyes to hers. “I can’t go.”

  “Why not?”

  “The babies, Grace. I can’t leave.”

  “Bear,” Virginia cries. “They are gonna come and find me and kill me.”

  “No, I won’t let that happen.” I pull my sister into a hug, letting her cry on my shoulder.

  “You may be made of stone,” she says. “But you’re cracking, Bear. You can’t see straight. You’re the one who said we have to hide.”

  “We have nothing to hide from anymore. Ricky is alive, Virginia. You did what had to be done out of self-defense. If they come for us, we can call the authorities.”

  Virginia steps away from me. “Call the cops on Badlands? Bear, do you hear yourself? This is crazy. Ricky may be bad, but the rest? They are our family. Or,” she adds frantically, “forget running. Let’s go back and explain and apologize. Ricky will listen to me. I know he will. He wanted to marry me.”

  “I was never going to let you marry a monster like him. He only looks out for number one.”

  “So, what? You just want to stay here in this cabin forever?”

  I exhale. The truth is something Virginia isn’t ready to hear. I want to stay and find a way to win Grace’s heart.

  When I think about family, I see her. I see those babies.

  And yes. I fell in love with a stranger... but she is a stranger no more.

  I love her.

  Grace might not know it yet, and the concept might freak my sister out -- but I can’t go back to the past.

  Not when I finally, for the first time in my life, see a future.

  11

  Grace

  Shelby and I spend a few hours together, and she leaves reassuring me that the babies are in great hands as long as they are with me. She gives me the number of a pediatrician and promises to follow up with me in two days.

  “Make sure you get plenty of rest. When the babies sleep, that’s when you should sleep.”

  I nod, suppressing a yawn as she talks. “See,” she says. “Right now, go take a nap now. The babies are fed, sleeping, and this your time to take care of yourself too.” She places a hand on my arm. “And Grace, call your friends for back-up if you need it. Of course, you can’t leave the babies with them, but you can ask them to come over and make dinner while you feed a baby a bottle.”

  “I think I got it,” I tell her, waving goodbye and then closing the door. She had brought a pair of bouncy seats for the twins, and I can already tell they will be a lifesaver. They are currently set up in the kitchen and I lean down and give them kisses on their foreheads before making myself a sandwich for dinner.

  I scarf it down, thinking how unladylike I must look. It’s probably time for a shower if I’m being perfectly honest. After pulling the bouncy seats to the bathroom, I hop in the shower to clean myself up. While I’m not sure if Bear will follow through on his word and come by later. I hope that he will.

  Using my homemade shampoo and soap, I shower as quickly as possible, wringing out my hair just as Abel begins to squawk.

  I dry myself off and begin singing my favorite lullaby. It works, thank goodness, and I pull on a sundress and braid my long, thick hair before reaching for Abel and carrying him out to the living room. It’s all a coordinated event, as I transition him to the bassinet I dug out of the closet before running back for Laura who still sits in the bouncy chair.

  I’m out of breath by the time we’re all out in the living room in one piece, and that’s when I realize they are both starving, rooting around and desperate for a bottle. It takes me several minutes to prepare a bottle and I lift Laura, crying the most urgently, into my arms first.

  By the time the entire ordeal is finished, it’s time for diaper changes.

  And that’s when I realize, this is a lot of work. Tears sting my eyes as I wonder how I will ever get them both happy at the same time. For a second, I feel sorry for myself, but then I remember that I am so not alone in this. Every mother I’ve ever met has her hands full.

  And sure, my girlfriends had partners when they had babies, but not entirely. I think about the fact that Wilder was taking care of his brother’s infants after he died, all on his own. And how Cherish had sets of twins back to back. I’ve been doing this gig for only twenty-four hours. Now isn’t the time to fall apart. Now is the time to figure out what I am made of.

  I’ve spent the last few years being jealous of my friends--of the love they seemed to find so easily--but now, I have two babies placed in my lap, and the opportunity to nurture and care for them. They don’t need me to be perfect, they just need me to do my best.

  And for Laura and Abel, I can do that.

  Pulling a sling over my shoulder, I settle Abel into it, while resting Laura back in her bouncy seat. Using one foot to rock her, I slide a piece of paper to a clipboard and list the time of the last diaper change and bottle feeding. Maybe if I get these babies into a routine it will make my life a little less overwhelming.

  And for the rest of the evening, it goes like that. I even doze off for an hour when they are both sucking on their pacifiers happily. I swaddle them up around nine and set them in their Pack n Play, twirling the mobile above them as I sing them to sleep.

  I am putting on a kettle for tea when there is a knock on the front door. Biting my bottom lip, I move to answer it.

  Bear is standing there with some wildflowers in hand. “For you,” he says, offering me the bouquet.

  “I’ve never gotten flowers from a man before.”

  “Good,” he says with a grin. “I like the idea of being your first for lots of things.”

  I laugh at his ardor, but I love that idea too. It feels so right to be wanted so openly. And Bear doesn’t seem to have any hesitation letting me know where he stands.

  “You look beautiful,” he tells me.

  I grimace, running a hand over my tangled braid and my dress that has spit up all over it. “I’m bringing classy back.”

  “Obviously,” he says, stepping into my cottage and pulling me into a big bear hug. It’s perfect and comforting, and just what I need.

  “It’s been a long day.”

  He looks down into my eyes. “I can imagine.”

  The tea kettle whistles and I tell him to take off his work boots and follow me inside. I press a finger to my lips as we pass by the open door of my bedroom. “They’re sound asleep. The first time they’ve done that at the same time since this morning when you were here.”

  “How did it go with the social worker?”

  In the kitchen, I take down two mugs and my special Sleepy Time tea blend. “It went great. Shelby brought me those bouncy chairs and reminded me that I can do this.”

  “Any word on the parents?” he asks, looking around and seeming to take in every detail of my home.

  “Nothing so far. I’m torn, you know, I want them to be safe, but at the same time... they abandoned their children.”

  “I know.” Bear frowns, and I love that he is as conflicted as I am. “It’s heartbreaking. For everyone. For the babies, of course, but also the parents. They must be really struggling to have made a choice like this.”

  I rest a hand on his arm as I hand him the mug of tea. “Growing up I saw a lot of really twisted parent-child relationships. Abuse too. And when I look at those babies who are so innocent, it’s hard to not feel angry that anyone could hurt them.” Tears prick my eyes. “But usually, I find, when someone inflicts pain on someone else, it’s usually because they’ve experienced a lot of hurt themselves.”

  Bear cups my cheek with his
hand. “And then there are women like you, who’ve been through so much--escaping a life that tried to ruin you and yet, come out stronger for it.”

  I blink back tears. “And what about you, Bear. Are you trying to escape something too?”

  He swallows, nodding. “I’m scared of losing you, Grace.”

  “You think you have me then?” I ask in a whisper, my heart pounding as his eyes pierce my own.

  “Don’t I, though?”

  I nod, staying absolutely still. Because he does have a hold on me. A hold that both terrifies me and exhilarates me.

  “Do I make you nervous, Grace?” he asks, his dark eyes on mine, looking into my soul. “With how much I feel for you?”

  “Make me nervous?” I bite down on my bottom lip, walking to the couch and sitting down, patting the cushion next to me. He sits, and I marvel at his great stature beside me. I feel small, but in a way that makes me feel safe. Am I a fool for letting this man who ‘s on the run, into my home, and into my heart?

  Maybe.

  “I’m the one who is nervous, Bear,” I tell him. “I’m nervous that you see me as something I’m not. That you think I’m more whole than I really am.”

  “Then tell me how it really is, Grace.”

  “Don’t you see how broken I am? How much of a mess I’ve been?”

  “I don’t see any of that. I see strength when I look at you. A woman who knows who she is.”

  I set down my cup, wanting to be honest. Because if Bear thinks I’m his, he needs to know what he’s getting himself into.

  I shake my head. “All my strength comes from fear, Bear. Fear of falling apart and never finding the pieces of my broken heart. I’ve made a house that is picture perfect. I smile and say the right thing. Because if I stop, for even a moment, I don’t trust myself not to lie down and never get back up. I have to pull up my bootstraps because there has never been someone else willing to help me stand.”

  “Oh, Grace,” he whispers, pulling me into his arms. Bear is unlike any man I’ve ever met. Strong, yet soft, scared, yet sincere. “I’m no angel myself. I’ve made mistakes and, more than that, I’ve hurt innocent people. I’m no better than the parents of Laura and Abel.”