“Oh, no.” Her smile lit up her face. “I’m going to sleep in the same room, the same bed as you, every night for the rest of my life. But we’ll need two bedrooms. At least we will by spring.”
“I don’t see why-” Then he did, so abruptly, so stunningly, that he could only stare at her. If she had taken the rifle back out and driven it butt first into his gut he would have been less shaken. His fingers went slack on hers, then dropped away. “Are you sure?” “Yes.” She held her breath. “There’s going to be a child. Our child.”
He wasn’t sure he could move, and was less sure he could speak. Slowly, carefully, he framed her face with his hands and kissed her. Then, when emotions swamped him, he simply rested his forehead against hers. “Two bedrooms,” he murmured. “To start.”
Content, she wrapped her arms around his waist.
“Yes. To start.”
