As the months passed, fourteen homes were built in the woods, each with a ten acre allotment of yard space that each family was responsible for. Brody and Sarina had decided that perhaps five bedrooms would do, just in case the baby girl turned into two baby girls or a split decision.
The cabin had been torn down to the original framework which was used to plank out for new, but historical flooring. In its place, a beautiful and brand new three bedroom cabin stood, stately and lovely. The remembrance rock Amanda had placed close to the cabin read:
To the memories of Martha Morris-Walker, Abigail Walker and Elijah David Morris-Walker. May they all rest in peace, knowing their lives mattered to those they left behind. Their story will never die as long as we live.
Amanda had included an entire journal about the experience and the story of Martha, Abigail, and Elijah.
“It’s a lovely spot,” Penelope said as she sat with Amanda on the picnic table, enjoying a mojito.
“Yes it is.” She smiled her agreement.
“Do you think if they’re really resting now?”
“I would think so,” Amanda assured her. “Wouldn’t you, if you’d fought like the dickens to conceal a place like this for that many years? I could almost feel the relief pumping off of her when I told her about Elijah. She needed to know and all this time no one had ever taken the time to tell her.”
“You did.”
“I just… I couldn’t let it go. I couldn’t turn and run away from something like that.”
“That’s why it waited for you. Out of all those journal entries, the secrets in your family needed to come out the way they did. It all led you to this, to these moments.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” Amanda said.
“Good,” Penelope replied. “Now help me get down so we can go harass Sarina about the baby.”
“She’ll kill us if we wake that angel,” Amanda warned.
“Yeah well, she’d have to catch us first and no offense to your progeny, but I’m betting she’s not up to par just yet.”
“Probably not, but you’re going in first.”
“Bitch.” Penelope chuckled.
“Ditto.” Amanda laughed in return.
***
Abigail Martha Duscene was the beautiful image of her mother, all dark hair and eyes. She was slight, small and petite. It was easy to see that while Brody loved his sons, little Abigail had her daddy wrapped around her finger. Already Brody had nearly bitten the heads off of two gardeners who’d stopped by to replant some flowers and accidentally woke his sleeping angel from her nap.
“I can’t get over her,” Sarina said with a sigh, handing the sleeping bundle to Penelope.
“There’s no need to,” her aunt said with a smile. “She’s beyond perfect and truth be told, she makes me want a little girl with Elijah.”
“And what does he say when you mention that?”
“He all but curses me to no end.” Penelope laughed. “No, we’re done with offspring. But that doesn’t mean a girl can’t want.”
“So how are you and Uncle Elijah adjusting to the new cabin?”
“It’s familiar, in a weird, almost science fiction sort of way. But there’s so much love there, I can only suspect that it was the same for the Walkers before Elijah turned.”
“I think that’s a fair assumption,” Amanda nodded. “When I talked with Martha and Abigail, you could tell they had loved each other. While Jackson and Elijah hadn’t shown their faces, I could feel them near. I can only hope they settled things between them in the afterlife. It’s terrible to leave things unsaid here, let alone after you pass over.”
“I’m sure they did,” Penelope said. “Still, even if not, we’ve put their demons away and they’re both resting now. There’s a serious level of peace in these woods now.
“True,” Amanda agreed. “I can attest that a peace like that wasn’t present even six months ago, not that I can believe we’ve been at this whole thing that long.”
“Will you be going back to Brownsville anytime soon?” Penelope asked of Sarina.
“Not anytime soon,” she stated. “Brody has everything well under control and while I miss him terribly when he’s gone, I know that I’m needed here now. With our home finally finished, I can focus on raising our children in an environment that will love and accept the changes that Elijah couldn’t handle in himself. I know that our pack will be there even if Brody and I can’t be. That’s important to me.”
“You’re damn right we’ll be here,” Amanda said, reaching out to cover Sarina’s hand. “No matter what happens in the future, the Delta pack will always take care of its own, no matter how small the pack member. Has your dad marked her yet?”
“We’re going to do it tonight, once Brody gets back.”
“Sounds good, doll. I can get the details from your father. I’d like to be here when he brings her officially into the pack.”
“Sounds like a plan, Mama. How are Brandt and Carly doing?”
“They’re loving their new home,” Amanda said. “Carly thinks she wants to hire you to decorate for her. She said she loved what you did, but she’s got some different color palates in mind.”
“I can’t blame her, setting your own mark on a home is a ritual for us women.”
“That’s true,” Amanda laughed. “Lord knows I drove your father crazy during those first few years of our marriage trying to figure out how I wanted to do the decorating around our home. My aunt, God love her, wasn’t the most cheerful woman. I guess maybe dark colors and shades of shadow were all the rage during her time, but whenever I stepped into that mansion, before we redid it, I’d get depressed.”
“Werewolves can suffer from depression?” Sarina asked, a chuckle on the tip of her tongue.
“Go ahead and laugh,” said Amanda, smiling. “But at the time, I barely knew what a werewolf was, let alone that I was one.”
“I bet Aunt Mabel was so cool.”
“She was definitely a forward thinker.”
***
Later that night, when the whole Walker-Traverse-Duscene family could pile into the Duscene great room, Romeo inducted little Abigail Martha into the pack. It was the official welcoming for their newest member and everyone toasted the little girl’s arrival and the future she represented.
After everyone headed home, Sarina, tucked herself into bed with Abigail, smiled at Brody when he climbed in to join them.
“She’s beautiful,” Brody whispered, placing a feather light kiss on his new daughter’s forehead.
“Yes she is.” Sarina smiled.
“She must take after her mother,” he said softly.
“I’m sure she does,” Sarina gently replied.
“Maybe I’ll tell her so one day.”
“I’m sure she’d like to hear that.”
He kissed her then, knowing that whatever life threw at them and wherever they went from there, they’d go together, stronger in the knowledge that their lives had infinite meaning and value, as long as, they loved and were loved in return.
-The End-
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