Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 53516 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 268(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53516 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 268(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
"Tell Rosalee that your more handsome older brother says hello." His laughter rang out as I ended the call, putting a smile on my face as I stood and tucked my phone back into my pocket.
If I thought the smells outside the cabin were amazing, it was nothing compared to the garlicky, meaty smells wafting around inside. I made my way to the kitchen, feeling better than when I'd left, to find Rosalee was nearly finished with her meal. "Hey."
Her eyes drifted up to my face and she silently arched an eyebrow as if to say, "That's what you're going with?" before she returned to her food. If I wasn't mistaken, she ate a little faster, as if she couldn't wait to get away from me.
I deserved it, I knew. But it still stung. No, it didn't, I reminded myself. I cherished my peace and the quiet of living on the mountain, and I refused to let her change that. "Thanks for dinner," I murmured and headed to the sink to wash my hands.
"No problem," she replied, barely above a whisper. Rosalee finished her food just as I took my seat, and rather than sitting with me, she scooped up the baby and rushed off like her ass was on fire.
It was just as well anyway since I had more pressing matters to deal with, namely that damn, mocking envelope. I ate quickly, savoring the juicy, well-seasoned steak and the creamy mashed potatoes.
And dessert was answers.
There weren't many answers contained within the envelope, but a birth certificate meant a name. One for the baby and one for the mother. Judy Haskell. The name still didn't ring a bell, but she'd listed me as the father when she gave birth, nearly a year ago. I had some answers, but not enough.
I clutched the papers in my hand as if that act alone would give me more information on baby Violet and on Judy. I read and reread everything as Nate had advised, and all I had were more questions to go with a few scant answers. I had a starting point, which meant I could get more answers.
Tomorrow. I took the papers and carried myself upstairs, stopping at Violet's room to check on her as I'd been doing since she arrived on my doorstep. She was asleep on her back, a pink blanket draped over her little body, both hands balled into tiny fists. She made such a sweet picture that before I knew what I was doing, I pulled out my phone and snapped an actual photo. "Good night, Violet," I whispered and pulled the door half-closed.
I wasn't sure if she had the personality of a Violet yet, but at least she now had a name.
It was progress, at least that's what I told myself as I fell into a deep sleep, filled with dreams of a mouthy nanny.
Chapter 10
Rosalee
It's so quiet up here. Always quiet. This was the third, or maybe the fourth, day I'd had this thought. When Serenity first told me about a placement on the mountain, my biggest concern was the wild animals. Hearing sounds all through the night had me feeling hesitant and terrified, but after a few nights—and days—the silence was more problematic. Aside from a few cries from Violet—she finally had a name!—it was so oppressively silent that my anxiety ratcheted up about a million points, or however anxiety was measured.
All week it was the same. Xavier was gone when we woke up and started our day, he came back briefly around lunch, and then he stayed gone until after sunset. I didn't ask what he was doing or where he went because it wasn't my business, and he'd made it more than clear that his business—personal or professional—was none of my concern. When he came back in the evenings, the silence remained, but it was accompanied by tension as I kept my word and taught him the ins and outs of parenting a baby.
The good news was that Xavier had finally opened the envelope. He didn't say so directly—he rarely spoke more than twenty words to me a day—but it was clear he had because Violet now had a name. It was progress for him, but I didn't comment on it or anything other than how he was coming along with changing diapers, making bottles, and burping babies.
"So, Violet, what do you think about soup for lunch today?" I laughed to myself when she babbled an incoherent answer. "I know soup is pretty much permanently on the menu these days, but I'm in the mood for something new. I just hope your daddy doesn't mind." And if he did mind, well, he could make his own lunch and dinner.
Feeling inspired, I decided to make some flatbread to go with the Indian stew I felt like making. My phone buzzed on the countertop, and I glanced over and froze. I'd deleted the number from my phone, but there was only one person with a seven-eight-six area code who would be calling me. Jason. My ex.