On the Mountain (Follow your Bliss #5) (29 page)

The grandfather clock ticked,
counting seconds in the background.

“Fillie had od’d. She’d been at a
party in Brooklyn. I guess a bunch of people got sick that night. She didn’t
make it.”

Baskia’s hand pressed to her
mouth. “London. She was there, I think. She said she was at a party, she went
unconscious, and someone died.”

“That was the crazy girl on New
Year’s Eve?”

Baskia nodded. “I’m so sorry.”

Trace shrugged. “Me too. Fillie
needed help. But just so you know, I didn’t love her. I didn’t like her. She
lied and cheated, stole, and used Jonah’s very existence as leverage for more
money, which led to more drugs. It shows you what kind of person that she was,
getting high the night before going to court to state her case for being a good
mother and battling me for custody. Help was there for her, but she didn’t
accept it.” He rubbed his hands down his face, as if wishing to wipe the memory
away. 

“I just can’t imagine. Poor
Jonah.” Baskia thought of her mother, Patty, Daniella, Wes and Mellie. “There
are many ways to fill that role. He’ll be fine. He’ll be loved.”

“As it was, he hardly knew her.
He didn’t even call her mommy. I doubt he’ll remember. But—” A question formed
on Trace’s face. “I can’t wait for you to meet him.”

Baskia nodded in an unspoken
answer, deciding, like Daniella had, to go all in. “Does he like waffles? I
have a great buckwheat recipe with chocolate blueberry sauce and whipped
cream.”

“Say what?”

Baskia went on to tell him about
her love affair with food, bringing a cheer to his otherwise burdened mood.

“You really did miss me,” he said
teasingly.

“Wouldn’t you like that?”

“I missed
you
,” Trace
said, leaning toward Baskia, his signature amused grin, blazing on his lips.

“I may have missed you a little.”

Trace brought his hands to
Baskia’s cheeks, pulling her mouth to his. They kissed, long and sweetly.

“Okay, maybe a lot,” she added,
taking a breath as her pulse quickened. Their mouths met again, this time
hungrier, as if despite all the dishes she’d learned how to make, she was still
starving.

Baskia ran her hands along
Trace’s strong arms, remembering the contours of his muscles. He brushed his
hand along the side of her chest, feeling her curves and nibbling his way down
her neck. He tugged on the belt loops of her shorts, bringing her to her feet.
She reached up, hands around his neck, kissing him more, harder, as they
stumbled toward the bedroom. Their clothes were off by the time they closed the
door behind them.

Baskia reclined on the bed,
illuminated in the moonlight.

Trace kneeled, taking her in.
“You’re so beautiful. I don’t want a day to pass when I’m not reminded of
that.” He took her in his arms, pressing their warm skin together, and they
made love. As the moon rose higher and brighter, they lay on the bed; Baskia no
longer afraid of Trace seeing all parts of her, the imperfections, and the
uncertainties, the mistakes and shortcomings. She bared her real, true self,
and she embraced those parts of him. 

She clasped her arms around his
neck, pulling him closer. He nuzzled his nose against hers. They pressed
closer, her chest against his.

“I’m ready for this,” he said.
“I’m ready for love. I love you,” he said.

“I love you,” she said.

^^^

The next morning, Baskia woke to
a small voice and a big voice whispering in the kitchen. She quickly pulled her
journal out from the drawer next to the bed, opening to a new page and wrote.

What I learned in my
almost-but-not-quite year on the mountain. 

It’s okay to just be and trust
everything will work out as long as I continue to work toward dreams and goals,
whatever they may be. And if I don’t know, that’s okay too.

A funny quote popped into her
memory from a poster on the wall of her elementary school classroom. She jotted
it down, as best she could remember.

“Never underestimate the value of
doing nothing, of just going along, listening to all the things you can’t hear,
and not bothering.”

She’d stumped her brother with it
during one of their games. But she couldn’t remember who said it, until a fuzzy
little bear lumbered into her mind after the quote, as if claiming it. “Winnie
the Pooh,” she said softly. She didn’t fully understand it when she was a kid,
but now she grasped the idea. She added to her entry:

Sometimes, it’s in doing what
looks to most people like nothing, that we find our most important somethings.

She closed the journal, smiled,
and padded out to find Jonah on a stepstool, scooping coffee as Trace helped
him count. With one chubby little hand, he waved. The other spilled grounds on the
counter. “Happy fourf of July,” Jonah said in a squeaky voice, still trying out
new words.

“Good morning, beautiful,” Trace
said, kissing her on the lips. Whispering to Baskia, he added, “We didn’t
discuss what he’d call you.”

“How
about he decides when he’s ready.” Baskia hadn’t thought about that. Jonah had
lost his mother, but she wasn’t sure if he even knew her. If she’d learned one
thing, it was that everyone needed a mom, no matter if they were related, a
fabulous cook, or someone just to listen. “Good morning,” Baskia said.

“You wake,” Jonah said.

“I am, and I want to make you
breakfast. Do you want to help?”

Jonah smiled. “Daddy say you
bootyful sweep.”

“Beauty sleep,” Trace corrected
gently, with a sheepish smile.

Baskia laughed.

“Daddy count,” Jonah said,
drawing his father’s attention back to their project. 

Baskia wanted to cry tears of joy
at the sight of the two of them together. In Jonah’s presence, joyful smiles
and an easy peacefulness suggested Trace was born to be a father. Instead of
tears though, Baskia grinned, stepping closer, wondering just how big her
family and heart could get.

“I like puppy. I want puppy.”
Jonah said later, after they’d filled up on waffles and let Pepper clean up the
scraps before setting out for a morning walk. 

Baskia knelt down. “Jonah, this
is Pepper. He’s your puppy.”

Jonah’s eyes got huge. “Reewy?”

“Really.”

He cheered, taking the leash from
Baskia. “My puppy. My puppy.”

As they stepped outside into the
warm summer sun, Baskia had never felt fuller or brighter. She had a family,
big and scattered, intimate and near, but all of them, forever close to her
heart.

Trace took her hand in his, Jonah
and Pepper leading the way on the trail behind the cabin.

Trace leaned into Baskia. “So,
where do we go from here?” he asked.

“Wherever we go, we go together.”

Acknowledgments

It is with great humility and
honor that I have such a supportive group of family, friends, and colleagues to
thank. To my big and littles, thank you for believing in me. Dad, your support
means the world. To all my relatives and friends, near and far, thank you for
cheering me on, being the first to buy copies of my novels, and for sharing
this great adventure with me. God, you’re the best. And to all you readers,
keep reading, keep dreaming, and keep moving mountains.

About
the Author

Throughout
her teens, Deirdre Riordan Hall acquired a wanderer's mindset, traveling the US
and throughout Europe as far east as Turkey. Now she satisfies her traveler's
heart and longing for faraway places, their unique smells and sights, customs,
and languages through story and connecting with worlds—imagined or real—on the
page and with readers. She lives with her family by the Pacific, spending as
much time at the beach as possible, pretending to be a mermaid.

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On the Mountain
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Want more Bliss Books?

Book
1:
To the Sea

Book
2:
Surfaced

Book
3:
In the Desert

Look
for Book 4:
Mirrored

Look
for Kindled, the final story in the Follow your Series, December 2014.