Staying longer in the service might have earned him a pension, but this time with his parents was priceless.
And if I hadn’t come home, I wouldn’t have Henry…
The jokes had slowed down and Henry’s laughter was fading. The little guy normally went to bed pretty early, and he was probably getting sleepy.
Jensen finished up the last few pieces and then turned to look.
Willow sat on the log, gazing out into the woods behind the house, a tender expression on her face. And Henry was fast asleep on her chest, limbs flung out in utter abandon, his little face tucked into the crook of her neck, just like he always did with Jensen.
A wave of emotion washed over him at the sight, and he let his eyes meet hers without meaning to.
Something passed between them, and he felt an achy tension, like a rope connected their hearts and it was pulled too tight for comfort.
He stuck the axe back into its log and then moved to sit beside her without the first idea of what he was even going to say.
What is this? What’s happening to me?
“Hey,” she whispered. “Do you want a cookie?”
The light question when he was thinking such weighty thoughts made him smile.
“Yeah,” he whispered back. “I’d love one.”
“Okay,” she said. “But you have to get it so I don’t wake him up.”
Jensen nodded and grabbed the plate that was balanced on the log beside her. He pulled back the plastic wrap, releasing the rich chocolate fragrance. Willow always made these cookies on the larger side, and they looked soft enough to melt in his mouth.
“Wow,” he murmured. “I haven’t had these in forever.”
She had brought them out here with her so many times, the three of them heading deep into the woods, balancing on the rocks that lined the creek. They would meet up on a Saturday afternoon, Ransom wearing his old Eagles cap and a big grin, Willow proudly clutching a paper bag of still-warm, homemade cookies and shadowing her brother step for step.
Jensen pulled one out and took a bite, closing his eyes with pleasure as the gooey chocolate burst on his tongue.
“Glad you still like them,” Willow whispered, smiling.
“They’re so good,” he told her, making a real effort not to shove the rest of the big cookie in his mouth at once, even though he was pretty sure she’d seen him do that plenty of times over the years. “My favorite.”
She looked so pleased at the compliment that he was reminded of the way she used to blush anytime he looked at her during that last summer the three of them hung out together, before the pact.
“I’m going to start a fire,” he heard himself say.
He wasn’t sure if he was doing it because he needed a little space from her before he said or did something stupid, or if he wanted to provide her with warmth so their walk down memory lane could last a little longer.
He busied himself placing the wood in the pit, then getting it started, all the while wondering why he was doing this, and why she wasn’t arguing. Surely she didn’t want to just sit out here in the cold reminiscing with him all day.
Then why is she here?
He worried that it was only because his son had fallen asleep in her arms, but she seemed happy enough.
Once he had a nice fire crackling, he lowered himself to the log beside her again.
“That takes me back,” she said, eyeing the fire. “We ate so many roasted marshmallows it’s a miracle all our teeth didn’t fall out.”
“We needed the energy for running around in the woods,” Jensen said, chuckling.
“I guess we did,” she agreed.
“Remember the Tarzan rope Ransom and I set up over the creek?” he asked.
