35
Brock
Two Years Later…
The unmistakable cry of a newborn baby jerked my eyes open, and I peered into the dimness, making out the fact I slept in a tent.
Annie.
Baby.
I reached to my side to find the other half of our blow-up mattress empty and cold. Jessie must have already gone in.
The cry came again—healthy and loud—and I grinned, a chuckle bubbling up inside me. Sitting on the mattress’s edge, I grabbed my boots and shoved my feet in, not even bothering to take the time to lace them up.
My baby girl had her baby girl…
I unzipped the tent and stepped into the Alaskan night, the warmth of the night and the sun’s refusal to fully rest making it easy to see across the green landscape. The tent a dozen or so feet away unzipped, and Flynn stepped out, one boot on, one dangling fro
