H is for Hawk (Men of ALPHAbet Mountain)

Occasionally, Wendy would pop in and take over the call. She was having a blast hanging out with Gerry and Malia and letting Olly be a big brother to all three girls. He seemed to be embracing the idea that it was going to be his job to protect them and was very focused on making sure they didn’t get hurt or were fed at certain times. It was adorable.

Our last night in New Orleans we spent mostly curled up in bed. We had plans to go out and tear up the town one last time, having our own personal Mardi Gras, but as the afternoon drew to a close and our tummies were full from yet another incredible lunch, we made our way back to the bed-and-breakfast and ended up just changing into squishy clothes.

As I lay on his chest, half watching the show that was on in the background and being soothed by Hawk slowly stroking my hair, I thought to myself how lucky I was. Things had changed in my life so quickly that I wasn’t even sure yet what the fallout would be. My job was incredibly important to me, but now that I was married and had Rose, suddenly I didn’t feel the desire to stay at work for sixteen-hour shifts in the middle of the night. I still wanted to work for the hospital, and I still wanted to use my expertise and experience to help people, but I was done being Dr. Sutton’s lapdog.

As scary as the idea of standing up for myself at work sounded, it was worth it because of how wonderful right that moment was and how I would feel when I came back home and was able to hold Rose again. I had grown so attached to her so quickly, it was as if she were my own. In a way, she would be soon.

I just couldn’t believe that everything went this way. It was a dream not only come true, but something better than I had ever dared to dream in the first place. Slowly, I drifted off to sleep, and in the morning, we packed up to leave. I knew I would be back. Hawk and I had a lot of trips left in us, and this was only the first of many.

And I was going to enjoy every minute of every one.

29

HAWK

The drive back home didn’t take nearly as long as the drive to New Orleans. We had hit most of the tourist spots on the way down and only had a couple of them left on the way back up. Still, we were planning on taking a different route the next time and seeing what else we could find on our trip, because there most certainly would be one.

Dee napped for a portion of the beginning of the trip, but when she awoke, we stopped at a gas station to stock up on snacks. The cooler in the back had plenty of food we bought to bring as gifts for our friends and to stick in the fridge at home, but there was nothing quite like chips and candy bars for a long road trip.

As we got back in the car and I turned on the ignition, my mind drifted back to the thoughts I had before we stopped. It was a logistical thing, but something that had been bugging me a little in the days since our wedding. I needed to get her opinion on it, but I wanted to approach it delicately, just in case it was something that might cause her stress. I didn’t want her to stress out.

“So,” I said. “About our living situation.”

“Hmm?”

“We’re married now. It seems kind of silly for us to have two places.”

“Oh, yeah, I guess it does,” she said. “I hadn’t even really thought about that yet.”

“It kind of popped in my mind as we were driving,” I admitted. “Like, I was thinking we were going home. Then I realized we might have two different ideas of what home is.”

“Well, we’ve been staying at your place most of the time,” she said. “And I do like the privacy that the cabin has.”

“It has lots of that,” I agreed.

“However, in the winter, it’s impossible to get out of there without a plow,” she said.

“Also true,” I said.

“So, I don’t know,” she said, shrugging. “What do you think?”

“Well, I have a snowplow,” I said.

There was silence for a moment and then laughter as she playfully shoved my arm.

“Seriously?” she asked.

“How did you think that mountain gets clear every snowfall?” I asked. “They don’t send trucks up to my cabin. If I want out, I have to make my way out.”

“No kidding. Do you plow all the way down the mountain to where Deacon lives?” she asked.

“Past it,” I said. “The county trucks only come up the mountain to the first road and then stop. So, I plow all the way past that to the main road.”