eyes could convey what he wanted even if he couldn’t do it. He swept his lips along her cheek and whispered, “Thanks, Mols.”
“Molly, look at this skirt I made,” Jane said, and Hunter stepped away as she turned toward his younger sister.
He joined Elise and Dad on the deck, where they both sat on a bench built into the railing. He groaned as he sat next to his father, and he wished he had the folder Aunt Laura had given him last week. He wished he had something to do with his hands, but he didn’t.
Focusing on his cowboy boots, he said, “I hope I didn’t make you feel uncomfortable by calling you my mother,” Hunter said.
“Of course not,” Elise said, her voice pitching up at the end. Hunter didn’t dare look at her, because his own emotions spiraled through him. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted to be, Hunt,” she continued. “I’m honored to be your mother.”
Hunter nodded, a smile moving through him that barely touched his face.
“Hunter,” Dad said, all the prompting he needed to say. He often added a lot more, but tonight, he didn’t.
Hunter straightened, not ashamed of what he’d done or what had happened. “Wow, it’s hot even here.” He chuckled and lifted his cowboy hat to wipe the sweat off his brow. “Maybe that’s just because you two are grilling me.” He grinned at his father, who managed a smile though his eyes held concern.
Hunter looked past him to Elise, and when their eyes met, Hunter couldn’t stay still. He got to his feet and stepped over to hug her. There was so much to say, and yet, he couldn’t get any of it out. She held him as tightly as he did her, and Hunter supposed they could communicate with touch as easily as with voices.
“Momma, Tucker won’t let me hold the leash,” Deacon called from the yard, and Hunter released Elise.
“I got it,” Dad said, and he stood up to go take care of the boys. He got them to stop arguing, and he sent them inside with the promise that Molly would turn on a movie and make them popcorn.
As he approached the bench again, Hunter said, “I stopped talking to Sheila a few years ago.” He cleared his throat, wondering how often Dad spoke to her, if he did at all. Based on what had happened with Hunter, he suspected they never talked. “She’s always used me, and I’ve always known it. I couldn’t seem to let her go, though, because.” He stopped and shrugged, studying his hands. “She’s my mother.”
Dad patted his leg and Elise laced her arm through his.
“It took me a while to realize that a mother is not just the person who gives life once.” He looked at Elise. “She is the one who gives life continually. She is the one who sacrifices for the ones she loves, day after day. She is the one who loves her children unconditionally, and never asks for glory though she deserves it, and loves her kids’ dad even when he’s not perfect.” Hunter’s voice grew quieter and quieter with each word, but they all held pure power. “A mother shows her kids how to be like her just by living the right way, and she shows her sons the need to find someone just like her to be their wife and the mother of their children.”
He smiled fondly at Elise, who had tears falling down her face. “You are my mother, and I apologize that it has taken me so long to realize it.”
“Oh, Hunter.” Elise gripped him and hugged him hard. “I love you so much.”
“I know you do.” He held her tight. “I love you too.” They separated, and Hunter drew in a steadying breath, sure his father would want more information.
He let several silent moments go by before he asked, “What happened with Sheila?”
Hunter cleared his throat, but he could talk about this. Enough time had passed, and Lucy had advised him to talk to his parents about this so he could remove it from his heart and mind. “She knows the family traditions, Dad. She knew I’d get a bunch of money when I turned twenty-one, and she was right there, wanting some of it.”
“I’m so sorry,” he said. “I should’ve anticipated that.”
“I dealt with it.” Hunter gazed out over the back lawn, where he’d once thrown a ball for Hutch while Jane cried after she’d caught her fingers in the cupboard door.