Chapter 9 - The Rest of the Story
The spring of 2027 arrived in Vermont with a sudden, explosive green that turned the valleys into meadows of wild clover and dandelion. At the red-brick farmhouse, the old oil heater had been replaced by a modern, silent solar system, and the roof was covered in clean, new cedar shingles that smelled of pine sap and sun.
Nico was fourteen months old, and he was no longer crawling. He was running—a chaotic, unguided sprint that usually ended with him collapsing into a pile of fresh laundry or the long grass behind the barn.
"Slow down, Nico!" Elena shouted from the porch, laughing as she watched her nephew chase a golden retriever puppy that Lucian had brought home from Burlington two weeks earlier.
Elena had decided to stay in Vermont, purchasing a small cottage two miles down the road with the money Lucian had settled on her for her loyalty during the dark months. She still worked at the diner, but only on weekends, spending her mornings writing a book about the history of the Green Mountains.
Serena stood by the garden gate, her hands tucked into the pockets of an oversized flannel shirt that belonged to her husband. She watched Lucian walk down from the timber lot, an ax over his shoulder, his shirt sleeves rolled up to reveal his thick, tattooed forearms. He looked different now—his face was tanned, his shoulders relaxed, the cold, hyper-vigilant posture of the Manhattan Don completely gone, replaced by the steady, heavy grace of a man who worked the earth.
He dropped the ax by the woodpile and walked straight to her, his large arms wrapping around her waist from behind, pulling her back against his chest. He smelled of pine smoke, sweat, and the cold, clean wind off the ridge.
"Marco called," Lucian murmured into her ear, his lips brushing against her neck.
Serena went still for a fraction of a second. "What did he want?"
"He wanted to know if we were coming to the city for the charity gala next month," Lucian said, a low laugh vibrating through his chest. "He said the new mayor wants to shake my hand because the shipping ports have been clean of contraband for three consecutive quarters."
"What did you tell him?"
"I told him I had a date with a beautiful librarian in New Hebrides," Lucian said, turning her around in his arms so he could look down into her gray eyes. "And that my son had a serious appointment with a pile of mud behind the tractor."
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Serena laughed, her arms rising to loop around his neck. "You're getting good at this, Lucian."
"I have a good teacher," he said, leaning down to press his lips against hers in a long, deep, lingering kiss that tasted of sweet clover and new beginnings.
