- her grip was surprisingly strong. “Hi, Ree,” he said. “Your
daddy would have been so proud of you.”
The baby scrunched her face together and let out a
whimper. Up held her quickly out to Rosie.
“You’re not going to break her,” said Taz, reaching out
to take the baby, letting her nuzzle into her chest. She
bounced her gently, and the whimpering subsided.
“You look like you know what you’re doing,” Rosie
observed.
“Had a lot of cousins,” Taz said, something misty and far
away in her eyes. “Do you mind if I sit?”
Rosie gestured her consent, and Taz took the baby over
to the rocking chair by the window.
“How are you doing, Rosie?” Up asked quietly.
Rosie tried to smile, and shrugged. “Oh, you know.” She
stroked Ty’s hair as he nestled closer to her in his sleep. “I
just didn’t ever think I’d be doing this alone.”
“Is there anything-”
“No, Up,” she said. “Unless you can bring him back.”
She looked so sad. Up thought of the first time they’d
met Rosie on the Eagle, Tripp practically falling over
himself in an effort to impress her, a small smile on her
face, amusement in her eyes. He thought of their wedding,
watching Tripp pick her up and swing her around, both of
them laughing, their joy contagious, their happiness
complete. They’d fit each other so well. It wasn’t fair that
they had been torn apart.
He looked at Taz, who was engrossed in the baby, telling
her something in Spanish, stroking a tiny cheek with her
finger. They had always fit together, too. That must have
been why he’d taken her back to the ship with him, her and
her torn dress and her defiance, why he’d fought for her to
go to the Academy at fifteen, why he had thought of no one
else while he was on the Eagle those three uncertain years.
ann
(Ann)
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