That said, whether it was right or wrong, no one blamed Bitsy much. Curt had crippled her, killed her best friend, flagrantly cheated on her, gave money to his mistress and forced Bitsy, in a variety of ways, into a life she didn’t want to lead both in a wheelchair and also living in that house that lorded over the whole town. But the bottom line was, she spent years planning her husband’s murder. Nevertheless, her confession and the extenuating circumstances meant her sentence was relatively light but she was still in jail and would be for awhile.

Although I had been caught up in their mess, Max also didn’t blame Bitsy (much). This was because Bitsy, who had been hiding her bitterness against her husband, didn’t hide her repentance for what she, no matter what anyone told her (including me when I visited her), blamed herself that she’d led Harry to do. She took responsibility for all of it, most especially what happened to me. The events leading on from Curtis Dodd’s murder broke her. It wasn’t jail that broke her; she had, in her mind, the end of four lives on her hands and what happened to me.

In an effort to make amends, she sold Curt’s business to Max for a song. He argued with her about the deal but she refused to listen. She wanted to do her bit to keep Max in town with me and to keep Max and I fed and happy and she somehow convinced mountain man Max to take the deal. He did and as he’d said he’d do, he downsized the operation. Even so, with Max’s reputation as a man as well as for his quality craftsmanship, he kept his crew busy, his family fed and more than comfortable at the same time we, since I bought my lawyer’s desk and installed it in George’s offices when he and I formed a partnership, kept our mountain clean.

I completed my search for Max when I retraced my steps back to the kitchen and I mentally, and thankfully, shrugged off my thoughts when I saw Max’s note.

Duchess,

Charlie and me are out.

Max

I held the note and stared at it.

They were out. Out. Now. When we should all be getting ready.

I saw movement to my side and looked down at the big, fluffy gray cat who had her bottom in the air, her chest to the floor and her paws straight out in front of her, stretching and yawning at the same time, as usual oblivious to her mother’s irritation.

The cat was my idea, Max wanted a dog. He only capitulated because when I really pushed him about the cat, it was when I told him he was going to get Charlie.

So I got my cat.

“My husband is annoying,” I told the feline.

She quit stretching and blinked at me communicating complete unconcern.

I smiled at her, dropped the note, moved to my cat and gave her bottom some scratches before I walked out of the A-frame. I rounded it, saw the barn doors opened and rolled my eyes. Then I climbed to the barn, unlocked the safe, grabbed the keys and hopped on an ATV. I turned it in the barn and took off to search for my husband and son on our mountain.

I knew Max and Charlie had several special spots but whenever I needed to drag them back home (which was often) I usually found them at the first spot I checked.

I rounded the trail at the top of the hill that rose up from the back of Max’s bluff and I stopped the ATV when I looked down and my eyes hit the scene in front of me.

Max was down there, in jeans and a t-shirt, his skin tanner than normal because he worked outside a lot and it was summer. He was sitting in the dirt (as he would since he didn’t do the laundry), knees up, Charlie in his lap tucked between his chest and thighs. Max’s head was turned away from me and toward the view. I couldn’t really see my son’s dark-haired head but I could see he probably wasn’t studying the view because he was, at that moment, banging on his father’s knees with his little baby fists.

I sighed my annoyance but even though I was the only one who could hear it, I didn’t mean it.

Leave them be, Charlie said in my head.

“We need to get ready,” I whispered into the wind.

Look at them, Neenee Bean, Charlie urged but he didn’t have to, my eyes hadn’t left Max and our son.

The Charlie in Max’s lap twisted so he was facing his father, his little baby legs pumping and his little baby fists banging now on his Dad’s shoulders. Max didn’t try to control Charlie’s fists; he just wrapped his son in his arms and bent his neck so his face was in Charlie’s. Therefore Charlie took that as his cue to grab Max’s ear and I heard the wind carry my husband’s chuckle mingled with my son’s baby laughter back to me.

I felt my lips smile.

Leave them be, Charlie repeated.

“Okay,” I whispered.

Love you, Neenee Bean, Charlie said to me.

“Love you too, Charlie,” I replied.

Then I turned the ATV around and headed home.

***

“When we get home, babe, we’ll be talkin’ about you goin’ out on the ATV,” Max growled into my ear and I turned my head to him just as Charlie launched himself out of my lap and at his father’s chest.

With practiced ease, Max caught the ever-active Charlie and pulled him close.

“What?” I asked with feigned innocence.

“Went to lock up the barn and saw one of the ATVs wasn’t where I left it. Since Charlie can’t sit astride one yet that leaves you and, like I said, when we get home we’ll be talkin’ about you goin’ out on an ATV.”

My eyes left Max’s to look over his shoulder and they skidded through the church pews that were full to bursting. I could see the entire church since we were beside Barb and Brody in the front pew. As I did this, I was thinking that I should have taken note of where the ATV was when I took it and I should have put it back where I found it.

“Duchess, look at me,” Max called and I knew he wouldn’t let up until I did as I was told so I did as I was told. “No more ATV,” he finished.

“I got home and you guys were gone,” I explained.

“I left a note,” Max told me.

“Yes, but we needed to start getting ready,” I told him.

“We’re here, aren’t we?” he asked.

“Yes,” I replied.

“And we ain’t late.”

“No, but we were close and you may have the memory of an elephant but you lose track of time especially when you’re out on the mountain with Charlie.”

“Babe… we’re… here,” Max repeated. “And we’re not late so I didn’t lose track of time. You know I wouldn’t miss this so you shouldn’t have worried and in your condition you should not, under any circumstances, be on an ATV.”

I waved my hand between us and stated, “I’m good on an ATV and I should be, you taught me how to ride one and, furthermore, I don’t have a condition. I’m only ten weeks and even if I wasn’t, I’m perfectly fine.”

Max’s hand shot out and wrapped around mine tight as he, taking Charlie with him, leaned in and returned, “You’re pregnant with my child. I get that you’re still my Nina and you think you can do as you please even with my baby inside you but what you need to get is that you’re my Nina and you got my baby inside you and I want you and our baby to be perfectly fine for the next six and a half months and then some and I’m gonna make it so and part of me makin’ that so is not lettin’ you put your ass on an ATV.”

“He’s right,” my mother butted in on a whisper, leaning toward us from the pew she was sitting in right behind us.

“Nellie,” Steve, sitting beside her, growled warningly.

Max ignored this and decreed, “No ATV.”

I stopped scowling at my mother, my gaze passed through Steve then Linda then Kami, all of whom were in the pew with Mom and all of whom were looking at Max and me with amusement (except Kami who rolled her eyes and mouthed, “bossy” at me) then I looked at my husband and started, “Max –”

His hand in mine pulled both to his chest so they were tucked between him and Charlie and Charlie took that opportunity to latch onto my hair.

But I only had eyes for Max mainly because he was the only thing I could see.

“Duchess, no…A… T… V.”

I glared at him and he didn’t even blink so I knew Mr. Overprotective was going to get his way. I also knew Mr. Overprotective was partly Mr. Overprotective because his first wife heartbreakingly lost a number of children before they took their first breath in this world and even though Charlie was a breeze, Max had lost enough that my easy pregnancy wasn’t going to change his perspective. He was also Mr. Overprotective because his first wife had been killed in a car accident that was beyond his control. And lastly, he was Mr. Overprotective because his second (soon-to-be) wife had been kidnapped by a mountain man stalker and then drugged and kidnapped by a mountain man gone bad and nearly shot to death in the snow.

So I gave in.

“Oh, all right,” I forced out, grabbed my son and pulled him from Max’s arms into mine.

Max’s answer to this gesture was to slide his arm along the pew, curl it around my shoulders and pull me snug and tight into his side.

The side door to the sanctuary opened and Jeff, looking handsome in his tux, and Pete, his best man, walked out to line up at the front of the church.

I felt my insides melt.

Then I felt Max’s lips at my ear. “That new dress is sweet, baby,” he whispered, my lips started curling up but they froze when he finished, “But we’ll also be talkin’ about that when we get home.”

I turned my head and Max lifted his, our eyes locked whereupon I informed him, “I’ll remind you that you were the one who wanted me to move out here before you really knew me and I shop. It’s what I do. It’s what I’ve always done. I work hard. I shop hard. And furthermore, I’m not coming to this event, of all events, in anything other than a fabulous new dress. So, you win on the ATV but no, we are not talking about this new dress when we get home.”