Page 116 of Finding Peace
Yeah. I really do, too.
Chapter thirty-three
Abigail
Iknow,Griff,”Itellhim softly, running the brush down the broad slope of his shoulder. “I wanna go for a ride too, but I can’t anymore.” Griffin flicks an ear back toward me. “The minute I can, I’ll come find you. I promise. You’ll just have to put up with the guys for now.”
He huffs in disapproval.
Griffin shifts closer in the stall, his big head lowering until his nose gently bumps my belly, and a small laugh slips out of me. “You know someone’s in there, too, huh?” I say, rubbing the soft bridge of his nose. “So does Luce. Couple of smarties you are. I bet you guys knew before I did.”
He huffs again. This timeclearlyletting me know my assumptions are correct.
The barn is quiet this morning as I continue grooming him, working my way down his side with slow, steady strokes. Halfway along his flank, something flutters low in my stomach.
The brush stills in my hand as my other palm drifts instinctively to the gentle curve of my belly.
There it is again.
Soft.
Quick.
Not a kick—not really. More like the faintest little flicker from the inside. Like a butterfly wing brushing against me before disappearing again.
Seventeen weeks, and my pregnancy app told me I’d probably start feeling something soon.
My lips curve into a smile.
I’ve been feeling the flutters for about five days now. At first, I thought it was my imagination. Then I thought it was gas. But then it just kept happening—little flutters here and there when I was sitting quietly or lying in bed at night.
Our baby is moving.
My thumb brushes lightly over my stomach through the thin cotton of my dress when the sound of boots echoing across the floor draws my attention to the open barn door.
I glance over my shoulder as Lincoln steps inside.
He spots me immediately—my hand resting on my belly—and his entire face lights up as he makes his way toward me. “Can you feel her?”
“Her?” I echo.
Lincoln shrugs one shoulder. “Gut feeling.” He stops in front of me and reaches a hand out. “Can I?”
“Of course.” I guide his hand to my stomach, where I felt the flutter. “You probably won’t be able to feel it, though. I only did a few days ago.”
His big palm settles over my belly, warm even through my dress. His thumb moves slowly, tracing gentle circles.
We both wait, and after a few seconds, he scrunches his face. “Nothin’.”
I smile softly. Reaching up, I tuck an imaginary strand of hair behind his ear. “Feel free to check any time.”
Up close like this, I can’t help but admire him.
Lincoln has always been handsome. From the first moment I met him, I saw it. But lately… lately there’s something different about him. The hard edges he carried when I first arrived have softened. His jaw isn’t quite as tight. The shadows behind his eyes have faded.
His eyes. My god, those eyes.
That bright green—the same one I see when I look at Billie—has always been striking, but now there’s something lighter in them. Something that almost lookspeaceful. Like a weight he’s been carrying for years has finally loosened its grip.
