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Simone August LeBlanc-Hebert made her debut on a rainy April morning. She shocked us by arriving three weeks early. In fact, my water had broken in the middle of a meeting with the FBI. I think Agent Portnoy stepped in the puddle of amniotic fluid. Served him right. Asshole.

I’d immediately fallen into a panic, worried it was too early and certain that I wasn’t ready. But Gus had a bag packed and stored in the truck. He’d done all the research, and he’d been ready for months. The car seats were installed, the nursery done, and he’d spent months building her the most beautiful crib with a dragonfly engraved on the back.

But we’d only been in the hospital for three days. That couldn’t possibly be enough. And according to the nurses, they’d have given us the boot earlier if I hadn’t needed the extra time to heal.

After twenty-seven hours of labor, I’d needed an emergency C-section. Which was not part of my plan at all, but when a doctor tells you your baby is in distress, you do what needs to be done.

Everything hurt, and I was exhausted and terrified.

Yet I was so fucking happy at the same time.

We’d named her after my mother, and she’d entered the world screaming loudly and with a full head of red hair. Her mother’s daughter from day one.

Celine and the kids had moved into my lake house, so Gus and I were living at his place on the mountain. In the beginning, I’d resisted cohabitating, but it became clear after a relatively short amount of time how convenient it was to have him around. Plus, the snuggles were top-notch. I was perpetually freezing, and he was my personal space heater.

We unloaded Simone from the car, and Gus helped me up the porch stairs. April in Maine was still winter, but the sun was shining, and Clem greeted us excitedly at the front door.

Gus carried the baby bucket around to each room as we introduced Simone to her new home. When she started to fuss, he carefully unbuckled her, and I got settled on the couch with the nursing pillow Adele had sworn was the best out there. Immediately, she latched, and her cries stopped.

Gus put his arm around me, and I rested my head on his shoulder as we looked down at our gorgeous little miracle.

“She has a Hebert appetite,” he said proudly, stroking her cheek. “But looks just like her beautiful mama.”

Exhausted but so damn happy, we stayed like that until she popped off and fussed again. “Here,” I said, nodding toward her. “She needs a burp before she gets the other side.”

Gus jumped up. He relished every single job and already took his burping duties seriously.

He walked around, gently patting her back and singing to her.

Within a moment, Clementine was on her feet, barking sharply at the door. She was known to bark at squirrels, but typically, they were gone quickly, and she’d settle back down. This time, though, she did not relent.

One brow raised, Gus wandered to the window and peered out.

“Shit,” he hissed. “Chloe, you’re not gonna believe this.”

My heart lurched. What on earth was he talking about?

I hooked my nursing bra and stood up, then slowly made my way toward the front door.

Gus grabbed a blanket and draped it over Simone before opening the door.

The cold air hit me, but not as violently as the scene in front of me.

There, in the middle of the front yard, was a massive moose. A familiar-looking bull with a large scar across his flank. I’d become accustomed to frequent moose sightings, but this particular moose and I had a history.

But the real shocker? Trailing behind him on shaky legs was a calf. Small and thin, with an uneven gait.

Then a cow appeared, coming up behind the baby and giving it a gentle push with her head.

“Is this real?” I asked Gus. “Am I dreaming?”

With a kiss to Simone’s head, he put his arm around me. “Looks like Clive w. ent and got himself a family.”

At that moment, Clive turned his head in our direction. Even at this distance, I could feel his eyes on mine. He gave me a nod and then kept walking toward the forest.

“Did Clive just nod at you?” Gus asked.

“We have an understanding,” I replied, turning back into the house.

Settled in once again, nursing Simone with Gus by my side and Clementine curled up at our feet, I was flooded with contentment.

“I love you so much,” he whispered into my hair.

My heart soared. I was so grateful. For this man, this baby, this life. Our little family was safe and happy. We’d had to fight for it, but we’d gotten our happy ending, more than twenty years after our beginning.