Page 44 of Unbound

Sterling seems to brace himself when Adam and Dan both glare in his direction. Dan clenches his fist and takes a step closer, but Adam’s face pales as his eyes drop to where my hand rests on my stomach.

I bolster all my courage, inhaling as I open my mouth to drop the next bomb on them by telling them the baby isn’t even Sterling’s.

“It’s not⁠—”

Sterling cuts me off, wrapping his hand around mine and resting the opposite one on my lower back. “It wasn’t the plan. But I can promise you that I’m going to take care of them both.”

He looks from Adam’s eyes back to Dan’s, his gaze unwavering. I shut my mouth, swallowing over the lump in my throat.

“It’s a boy.”

Harley looks up at Adam, pats his shoulder, and walks over to pull me into another hug. “You’re going to be a great mom.”

Lucy nods in agreement, her eyes shiny with tears. “The best mom.”

Adam and Dan are still eyeing Sterling. They glance at each other, and I know my brothers well enough to know they’re not at all happy that this man knocked me up. They probably think he convinced me to run away since I’d never done anything like that before.

I want to tell them the truth, if only to take some of the heat off of him. The fact that he’s willing to start off his relationship with them by making them direct their displeasure at him makes me feel even more confused about us.

“Let’s go in and keep talking, shall we?” Sterling opens the door and gestures for them to enter the house.

We follow in after.

As we’re making our way down the hall to where his family is in the kitchen, he leans down to whisper in my ear, “Are your shoelaces untied?”

I shake my head, looping my arm through his. “No, you tied them really tight and secure.”

15

STERLING’S LETTER

Dear Eden,

I never would have imagined being away from anyone would feel like this. I’ve always been the loner in my family, okay with my solitude and seeing people I care about twice a year or even less.

Things are so much different now that you’ve entered my life.

I miss you. I miss you more than I know how to describe.

I should have told you this before I left. I’ve been meaning to ask you if we can get rid of the fake word when we talk about our marriage.

It’s really not so fake to me anymore. When I talk about you, I tell people you’re my wife, and I mean it.

I should have said it before I left. I know that. I guess I didn’t quite realize that I meant it until I was gone and you became all I could think about. You and little man.

I hate that I’ve had to miss all your doctor’s appointments. Are you having to go alone, or is Dolly going with you?

I keep thinking about what you sound like when you come. That’s filthy talk, I know. You’re blushing right now, reading this.

The soft whimpers you make keep me up at night in my cold, hard cot.

When I eat the military-issued meals, I close my eyes and pretend it’s your fresh-baked sourdough discard biscuits.

You and Dolly are probably having the best time cooking together. It helps me relax a little bit to know you’re living in the bunkhouse at the ranch, sleeping in my old bed. There’s no safer place on earth than Redford Ranch.

You probably look so cute right now with that baby belly growing bigger and bigger. I hope your sickness is completely gone and that you’re sleeping okay.

Are you sleeping? Are your hormones keeping you up?