She sits down next to me, on a bench, her eyes roaming over me. I recognize her from the day that we arrived and just seeing her around here and there, but I’ve never talked to her.
“I’m Della, and this is Santiago,” she offers, introducing the baby to me.
He’s beautiful. He has a dark tuft of hair and dancing black eyes. Reaching toward the baby, I extend my finger, giving Della a questioning look before I touch him. She dips her chin and I touch the baby’s fingers. His little hand opens and wraps around me, effectively wrapping around my heart in that exact moment.
“He’s beautiful. He looks really familiar, have I met his father here?” I ask, lifting my head to look up at her. “I’ve met so many men, all of the names are a blur.”
Her eyes widen, then she clears her throat. “You know his father, and I’m sure you’ve met his dad, too.”
“What?”
Della lifts her gaze to mine, focusing on my eyes and doesn’t look anywhere else. She shakes her head slowly as her eyes well with tears.
“It’s not my place to tell you, not really, but he won’t. I think you two could have something and too many relationships start off with mistruths, with unsaid truths.”
“What are you trying to tell me?” I ask.
I know what it is, it’s pretty obvious, but I need to hear it from her. “I was like Pinkie. Just for a little while. I have a whole story, but it’s not important. What is, is that I fell in love with a man and I married him. He’s going to raise my son, but he’s not my son’s biological father.”
“Mountain is,” I whisper.
“Mountain is,” she confirms.
The words shouldn’t bother me at all. Plenty of people have children from several different partners. It shouldn’t mean a fucking thing, but it does. My heart squeezes and I’m not sure why. He lived an entire life before I was even born, let alone before I came here. I lived an entire life too.
“Okay,” I breathe.
“You’re upset? Angry?” she asks.
Shaking my head slowly, my gaze flicks from hers to the baby, then back to meet hers again. “No. Surprised,” I say with a smile. “He’s beautiful.”
“Mountain knows, but he just wants to be an uncle, and I would have gone anyway he wanted with this. I would do anything for him, he’s one of the nicest men I’ve ever known. Loyal and kind, just plain good.”
Lifting my hand, I wrap my fingers around the front of my throat, smirking to myself. He’s good, alright. Shaking my head, I find her gaze with my own again. She’s watching me, a small smile on her lips.
“Eagle and Mountain are together on this run, if you need anything…” Her words hang, but she doesn’t finish her sentence, she doesn’t need to.
Pressing my lips together, I have a million questions, but I don’t ask any of them. I decide the person that I should ask is Wilder himself. However, I do ask her one burning question. I regret it the moment that I do, because the look of pity that crosses her face makes my stomach twist.
“Have you heard from them? Eagle and Mountain?”
“Today?” she asks.
“At all. Since they left?”
That’s when the pity appears. I notice it, I see it for what it is. She has heard from them, more than once, I assume. Her man loves her, loves his baby, he’s been checking in with her and checking up on them.
Mountain feels nothing except maybe a bit of ownership toward me. He’s not worried about me, I’m out of sight, therefore out of his mind. Something ugly curls in my belly at the thought of what he’s been doing. I splash my hand in the water, looking up at the bright sky.
He gave me rules, they’re pretty clear and within those, he has no rules for himself—that was pretty clear as well. Climbing out of the kiddie pool, I stand, straightening my back before I grab the phone from the bench.
“Don’t worry about it too much, Leighton. They get busy on these things, I’m sure he’s meant to call.”
Her words are cute, but they’re fueled with pity and I hate them. Turning away from her, I stand up, water dripping from me, I reach for the towel and dry off before I slip my wet feet into my flip-flops and walk away from the table and pool.
The phone burns my palm, begging to be looked at, begging