Page 134 of The Bitterroot Inn (Jamison Valley 5)
“Coby!” I scolded for the fifth time. “I said, no scaring people. That is not okay.”
He’d just jumped out at a group of little girls who were now running away, squealing.
He laughed. “It’s fun!”
“Coby, you need to listen to your mom.” Hunter was standing over him with a scowl.
“Come on. It’s time to go,” I announced. We were in the middle of the maze but with Coby’s behavior, I was ready to change activities.
“No!” Coby protested.
“Yes. We’re all done with the maze. If you can’t listen to me about scaring people, then we can’t stay. Let’s go do pumpkins.”
“Okay!” Coby shouted, happy again as he ran off.
Not one minute later, Hunter and I had lost him in the maze.
“Damn it,” I muttered. “Where’d he go now?”
“I’m sure he’ll—”
“Boo!”
Ahead of us, Coby jumped out from behind a row of thick cornstalks and scared a mother with an infant in her arms.
“Oh my god,” I said, rushing up to grab my son. “I’m so, so sorry.” I started apologizing profusely to the mother who, thankfully, was laughing it off.
“Coby Holt!” I turned, hands fisted on my hips to start my lecture, but Hunter beat me to it.
“Coby, that’s enough.” Hunter’s voice was as stern as his pointing finger. “If you do it again, we’re leaving. And you listen to your mother. Understood?”
Coby’s face paled as he looked up at Hunter. Tears welled in my son’s eyes and his chin was quivering uncontrollably before he lost it and face-planted—wailing—into my legs.
I blinked a couple of times before reaching down and patting Coby’s shoulders. Besides me, no one had ever really disciplined Coby. Mom and Dad would occasionally scold him, but for the most part he was a good kid and didn’t need much more than a gentle reminder to shape up. Hunter disciplining Coby hadn’t just shocked my still-crying son, but me too.
“I’m sorry,” Hunter said, running a hand over his hair. “I didn’t mean to step on your toes, but . . . shit.”
“Hunter, it’s—”
He interrupted me and started rambling. “This is going to happen, you know? I feel bad, but we’re both going to have to discipline him. I’m not auditioning for his favorite uncle here, Maisy. I’m trying to be a dad and he needs to know I’m going to get after him from time to time. Please, don’t be mad at me for this.”
He wanted to be Coby’s dad.
My shock evaporated and I took his hand. “I’m not mad. Not at all.”
“You’re not?” he asked over Coby’s crying. His face was still twisted in pain as he looked down at Coby. Hunter was learning that parenting wasn’t always easy.
“I’m not mad.” I couldn’t imagine Coby having a better father than Hunter, and if he wanted the job, it was his.
“Oh.” The worry disappeared from his face and he bent down to pry Coby off my legs. “Listen, bud. I don’t like to scold you, but you have to listen to us. Okay?”
Coby nodded and fell into Hunter’s chest. Hunter still looked miserable and Coby was still crying, but I couldn’t help but think this was a good thing. This was part of them forming a father-son bond.
Staring down at them, I came to a realization. I had done it. I had found the best possible father Coby could ever want. We weren’t alone anymore. I wasn’t a single parent. Hunter and I were a team and, with Coby, a family.
Tears of immense joy flooded my eyes but I blinked them away. “Should we go get pumpkins now?”
Hunter leaned Coby back and wiped the tears from his tiny face. “No more scaring people, okay?”
