“And I'm lucky you have a thing for lumberjacks.”
She laughs. “I thought you were a carpenter?”
“I still have to show you my workshop,” I say.
“You do. I want to know what you build.” She takes my hand in hers. “You could show me now.”
I nod, swallowing my words, wanting the moment to be just right when I pop the question that will change everything. We slip on our winter coats and she borrows my boots. The snow crunches under our feet.
“It's so beautiful up here in the mountains,” she says. “I can't believe my brother even got up here with his motorcycle.”
We look in the distance where the three bikes sit. The police officers said they would come later on to get them. We said there was no rush. We hoped everyone could enjoy their Christmas to the best of their abilities and rounding up these motorcycles didn’t need to be a priority.
“I'm glad they were caught. Hopefully, those girls can have a future.”
Sugar nods, her fingers laced with mine as we walk to my workshop. “I don't really know Josalin, Trudy, or Sarai,” she says. “They’ve only been around a month or so and I never got close to them. I've never been really a girl's girl.”
“Why is that?” I ask.
“I've always been a loner. You know? I was on my own so much growing up with just my brother. And he didn't exactly look out for me. So it was hard to connect to other girls. I always felt so different from everyone else. What about you, Smith?”
I shrug. “Hell, I live up in the mountains all by myself. I know a thing or two about being a loner.”
Sugar nods. “Yeah, but it sounds like you had a family at some point that loved you and made you feel safe?”
“I did and I'm grateful for that. Losing my parents was rough, and I was an only child. I have some distant relatives off in the city and I see them a few times a year, usually at Thanksgiving or Easter. But the truth is, I don't need a lot of people to keep me happy. I always figured if I met my one and only at some point in my life, that would be the icing on my cake.”
“What about kids?” she asks, catching me off guard.
I smile. “Kids? I don't know. It depends on what my wife thought about it.”
She nods, swallowing as I opened the door to the woodshop. “I suppose that would be important,” she says. “For your wife to want children.” She pauses. “And if she didn't?”
“Life is about give and take, right? So, if the woman I loved didn't want children, I suppose I'd understand. Are you saying you don't want kids, Sugar?”
“I wasn't saying anything. I'm not anyone's wife, so I'm not exactly in a place to make any sort of assumptions or offer ultimatums.”
“I see,” I tell her chuckling as my finger moves to switch on the lights. “The thing is when I turn on the lights and you see what I've been working on in this cabin, it’s either gonna give you baby fever or have you run out the door.”
“Kind of ominous,” she says with a laugh. “What in the world are you building?”
I flip on the lights. In my woodshop, there are a dozen wooden cradles.
“You make baby cradles?” she asks incredulously.
I run a hand over my thick beard. “It's my specialty.”
“How in the world did you get into this?” she asks, walking down the row of the wood cradles, intricately shaped and hand-carved. “They’re gorgeous.”
“I got hired to make one by this fancy hipster couple in the city. They liked it and posted a photo of it on Instagram or some shit. Next thing I knew, I got so many orders I can't keep up.”
Sugar shakes her head in disbelief. “So, you're a mountain man, with a chiseled body, a perfect beard, who makes hot cocoa and has a cozy mountain cabin who makes baby cradles for a living?”
“That’s about right.”
She lets out a loud burst of laughter that has me shaking my head. “Smith. You're ridiculous. Ridiculously perfect.”
“So, what will it be? Does this have you running for the door or come down with baby fever?”
Sugar sighs. “Smith. I've wanted to be a mother all my life. I played with baby dolls way longer than most girls. I think I always wanted to be a mom because… well, I wanted to give a child the love I never received. I wanted to complete the circle.”
I step toward her, her compassion and love filling this workshop in a way it's never been filled before.
“That’s really fucking sweet,” I say as her eyes meet mine.
“Not pathetic?”
I cup her cheek with my hand. “Not pathetic. I'd say it's fucking perfect.”
She smiles softly a single tear runs down her cheek. “You really are the best thing that's ever happened to me,” she says. “I feel like pinching myself because this is all too good to be true. I’m scared I'm going to wake up from a dream.”
“This is no dream. This is our life now, Sugar, yours and mine.” I drop down to one knee. “I know we just met, and I know we have a lot to learn, but let's do it right. Marry me,” I say holding out the engagement ring. “Be my wife.”
Sugar covers her face with her hands overwhelmed with emotion.
“I need to see your eyes when you answer me,” I say pulling down her hand.
“Yes,” she says. “Yes, I will marry you, Smith. I will be your wife. Together we can make traditions, all sorts of them. You and me.”
I slip the ring on her finger, then stand, pulling Sugar to my chest kissing her softly. I run my hands through her long honey hair, her lips on mine. Our bodies linked. Our hearts pound.
“You are mine now, Sugarplum.”
Epilogue 1
Sugar
One Year Later…
I press my hand to my breasts, feeling like I'm about to burst. Smith notices and chuckles from the living room. He's sitting in a rocking chair with Susie in his arm. “You okay there, Sugar?”
“I'm just so full. I was so busy wrapping gifts that I lost track of time.”
“Well, I think Beth is ready to eat,” Smith says, looking over at our daughter in the cradle next to the Christmas tree, her arms stretched out.
I step toward her and lift her from the cradle. Her pink swaddling blanket is snug around her three-months-old frame, She’s the most perfect thing I've ever seen. Well, one of the most perfect things.
We wanted to get pregnant, but twins ended up giving us a package deal. Two for the price of one. We couldn’t have been more pleased.
I offer Beth my breast and she begins to nurse. Smith sets the now sleeping Susie in the other cradle next to the Christmas tree and tells me he's going to start fixing us dinner. Christmas music circles around the room, the song I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus begins to play throughout the house, and I smile as I look around my cozy home.
The cabin that my husband built that has become my house as much as his. I've added some feminine touches, a few throw pillows, scented candles, and a few new ornaments to the Christmas tree. On the mantelpiece there are four stockings hanging there this year. One for him, one for me, and two pink velvet stockings for the girls.