“Sol?” Evelyn slips into the room and drops into a chair beside him. “Has she woken up yet?”
He clears the boulder from his throat. “No.”
Evelyn crosses her ankles. “You should go home. Rest.”
He grunts. “I’m not leaving her.”
“You have a baby, Solomon. You need all the rest you can get.”
“I’ll rest when Tessie is healthy and at home.” Tearing his gaze from the woman he loves, he glances over at his sister. “Thank you. For helping her.”
She gives a curt nod. “You’re welcome.”
“About Serena.”
She shakes her head.
“Let me do this, Evy.”
The line of her lips going flat, she crosses her arms, gives a small nod.
“You don’t want me to move on, but I am. I know you don’t like it. But you have to deal. I love Tess, and she isn’t going anywhere.” He makes himself believe the words, says them with conviction. Anything else? It won’t happen.
Evelyn’s lower lip wobbles. “I know.” A shudder works its way through her rigid chest. Tears slide silently down her cheeks.
Solomon exhales roughly. “I’m going to marry her.”
“I know that too.”
“Every day, I’ll do everything I can to be a better husband to her than I was to Serena.”
Evelyn glances sharply his way. “Who said you were a bad husband?” She places a hand on his arm. “Serena loved you, Sol. And she would want you to move on. You should move on.” She focuses on her lap, picking at the hem of her skirt. “Bringing you those papers, being cruel to Tessie. . .I’m a shitty shit of a sister. I was just. . .it’s hard.” She shudders a breath. “Even after all these years, I keep thinking it should be us double dating, sitting together at family dinners, you and Serena having a baby. It’s hard to see someone take her place, but. . .it’s time. I know it is.” Her gaze drifts to Tessie. “I hope it’s not too late for me to tell her I’m sorry.”
“It’s not.” He runs a hand down his beard. “You’d like her,” he tells Evelyn. “You should get to know her. She’s a lot like you.”
A snort. “What, a bitch?”
“No.” He smiles, locking his eyes on Tessie. “She fights for the ones she loves.”
“Serena would have liked her,” Evelyn says, her expression stoic. The closest to an apology as she’ll give. Better than.
“I know,” he says hoarsely.
Evelyn stands and rests a hand on his shoulder. “Can I bring you anything?”
“Coffee.” He settles back into his chair, the tightness in his chest easing a bit. “And my son.”
Solomon stays with Tessie all night and into the morning. The nurses bring him Bear to rock and bottle-feed while he waits. Around midnight, the stars come out and the snow stops falling. And Tessie chooses that moment to open her beautiful brown eyes and save him.
Swimming through dark, through stars, Tessie blinks her eyes open to the broad-shouldered blur of Solomon Wilder. He’s hunched over in a chair, elbows on his knees, his intent gaze on her.
She licks dry lips, tries to focus as the hospital room comes into view.
“Hi,” she breathes, dazed. Like she’s floating on a cloud that’s about to dissolve.
Solomon’s strong rumble fills the room. “Tess.” He moves close and scoops her hand in his. Pain, relief break in his expression. “My Tessie.”
“The baby,” she whispers. Fog curdles her brain. All she remembers are bright bursts of images. Her son in her arms. Blood on the sheets. A strong hand in hers, squeezing desperately. “Is he okay?”
“The baby’s fine,” Solomon says in a voice she doesn’t recognize. “He’s healthy.”
“He is?” Tears blur her eyes, her body limp with relief. “Oh thank God.”
“You’re who we have to worry about now.” Her hand’s lifted to Solomon’s lips, his bristly beard scratching over her knuckles, a feeling she relishes. A sensation that tells her she is whole and back on this earth with Solomon and her son.
“Tess,” he whispers, kissing her palm, the pulse in her wrist. Wet tears hit her skin. His large frame shakes.
Her eyes widen. Solomon’s crying. This big, strong man, who always keeps her safe and protected, is crying.
“Don’t,” she murmurs, stretching her hand to palm his beard. “My Solemn Man. I’m here. I’m okay.”
“You lost a lot of blood.” His voice trembles. Leaning down, he cradles her close. Like he has to inhale her. Like if he doesn’t touch her, none of this is real. A sob wrenches out of him as he takes her in his arms, hugging her the best he can. “I was so fucking scared, Tessie.”
“Shh. I know.”
They stay like that for minutes, pressed into each other as if it’s the end of the world. But not for them. Tess knows it. Feels it. The entire universe in her hand, and it’s Solomon.
“Can I see him?” she asks when they pull away. Her gaze searches his handsome face. “Can I see Wilder?”
At the baby’s name, Solomon’s eyes go misty.
“Yes,” he says, shoving up from the bed. “God yes.”
Tessie watches as he moves to a darkened corner of the room. Then, reaching into a hospital bassinet, Solomon lifts a blue bundle, cradles it in his arms.
“Here,” he says, gently lowering the baby to her. He helps her hold Wilder, banding an arm around the middle of her back and lifting her up. His firm grip steadies her. She’s so weak, all her extremities noodly, she doesn’t think she could hold the baby on her own if she tried.
“Oh, Solomon,” Tessie squeaks as she gets her second look at her sleeping son. He’s beautiful. With a shock of thick black hair and plump, rosy cheeks, his face is peaceful and steady like his father’s. “Hi,” she whispers to Wilder, blinking back tears. She never even knew she was meant for this, but she does now. This moment. This heart. This baby.
This little baby who’s the best halves of both her and Solomon. This baby who brought them together, but deep down, she knows she and Solomon were meant to be anyway.
Looking at Solomon, she smiles. “Baby of my dreams, right here.” She traces the pad of her finger over his chubby cheek. “My little wild Bear.”
Solomon settles beside her on the bed, keeping a steady hand on her back. “Look what you gave me,” he husks, a muscle working in his jaw.
“He’s beautiful.” Dipping her head, she inhales Wilder’s sweet scent, then kisses his shoulder. It’s strange, magical, how the tiniest human brings out the biggest love. “Can you believe we made him?”
Solomon strokes her cheek. “He’s perfect.”
Tessie smiles, her heart beating out a content melody. “He’s ours.”
“You okay?” Solomon asks as he grips her elbow and helps Tess sit up in bed. His eyes don’t leave her face.
She adjusts Wilder in the crook of her arm. “Better than.”
With that, she brings her son to her breast. After a snuffling struggle, the baby latches and begins to nurse. A huge bottle of water sits on the nightstand next to her. The hospital gown draped low on her chest. Ash and Howler, perched on the couch in the small room, make low conversation.
Solomon levels a finger at Howler. “Don’t stare,” he commands.
Tessie laughs brightly, Wilder bouncing with the light movement.
Howler lifts his palms. “Dude, I’m not.” He elbows Ash. “Did you see Wilder smile at me twice this morning? Clearly, favorite uncle status.”
Ash scoffs, keeping her voice at a hiss-whisper. “You’re fu—flipping insane. He’s mine. And I will fight you.”
“Will you both shut up?” Solomon growls softly, helping Tessie with the latch when Wilder slips off.
Tuning out the bickering family members, Tessie bounces her son in her arms, smiling down at him as he greedily drinks. Her heart melts watching her tiny human hold Solomon’s giant finger. Even though he came early, Wilder’s eight pounds of chubby baby boy. By now, she’s spent three days in the hospital recovering, getting much-needed fluids, and is ready to go home.
If someone had told her she’d design a bar, plan a party, have a baby, and face death all in the span of five weeks, she’d have laughed in their face.
But here she is. Her son. Her mountain man. Her life.
Luckiest woman in the world.
“How do you think it tastes?”