Heaven

Mountains circle around, fog hovering over nature.

Amidst tall, bare trees and still-lush pines, alongside rugged evergreens, they find a little wooden cottage—smaller, but cozier—in this cold, lonely winter.

Far apart, tiny houses scatter across the land. At the edge of it all, in the farthest corner, a little unnamed village welcomes Rhett's loving family. Frost kisses the windowpanes. Tiny specks of snow sprinkle in the moonlit, chilly breeze—the world cloaked in December's silent spell.

On the mellow bed, beneath a soft quilt, baby Rhean lies warm between his parents, his doe eyes wide and blinking slowly, his little heart unwilling to sail into dreamland.

Neva pats his tiny chest, his breathing steady, her voice—sweet and saccharine—whispering whimsical lullabies.

Rhean's curious eyes stay fixed on her, his thumb in his mouth as she hums him to sleep.

Rhett lies facing them, his eyes adoring the gentle mother and child, mirroring the warmth and wonder glowing in his heart.

Suddenly, a loud howl splits through the quiet night. Little Rhean flinches. More howls follow, wild wolves crying under the moon.

"It's okay, shh…" Neva murmurs as her little one purses his lips, close to tears from the haunting noise. She kisses his forehead and smiles down at him.

"He's brave," Rhett says softly, amused as he watches their son settle.

"He is," Neva agrees, stroking Rhean's tiny button nose.

"Aren't you my brave little son?" she coos, and Rhean smiles up at her, radiant—as though he understands her praises.

"Look how cute you are," Neva whispers, her gaze drifting up to meet her husband's dreamy eyes.

Their eyes tangle.

He grins, reaching for her hand and kissing her knuckles lovingly.

Rhean babbles his baby sounds, big eyes on his parents, as if asking for their attention.

They both look at him—and he breaks into a wide, toothless grin, pink gums flashing under his giggles.

"He looks like you," Neva says, her eyes shimmering.

"Does he?" Rhett asks with a smile.

She nods, still watching him.

"We should have a girl next—someone who looks like you." He says, brightening at the thought.

Neva raises her brows. "You want another child?"

Rhett nods, mirthful. "Of course. Two boys and two girls would be perfect."

Neva widens her eyes. "That's a lot."

"Why? Rhean would love it. And he'll be more competitive with siblings," Rhett teases, his gaze gleaming with playful certainty.

Neva shakes her head with a small smile, glancing down at her baby, still patting his chest in soft rhythm.

For some reason, their almost four-month-old boy refuses to sleep tonight.

Her smile falters. A shadow falls over her expression. "I don't want another child though," she says softly. "My baby boy is more than enough."

Rhett frowns. "You don't want another baby? Why?"

She presses her lips together. Emotion rises in her voice. "We're always on the run, always living in fear.

God knows when or where we'll be pushed into peril again.

It already feels like a sin to have brought this little life into a world that could tear us apart at any moment."

Her eyes shimmer with tears, flickering between Rhean's innocent face and Rhett's softened gaze.

He brushes her cheek gently. She leans into his warmth, her eyes closing as she exhales a weary sigh.

"It'll all end soon," he whispers. "And you, being mother to our boy, is far from a sin. He's a blessing. He couldn't have a more loving, caring, strong, and beautiful mother than you."

He leans in, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead.

"He was meant to be ours. Heaven wouldn't have it any other way."

Her lips tremble. She hasn't felt at rest these months.

The fears crawl in her mind—and gnaw at her chest. Somedays it overwhelms her.

But she has her Heavenly Father.

And in her Rhett—and their son—she beholds the purest, most precious embodiment of His blessings.

Rhett always makes her heart feel lighter.

Like at this moment—making her float and her worries drown.

How could his words be so mystical?

Soothing this wretched soul?

"We're safe here… right?" she asks, searching his eyes.

He smiles, wiping her tears. "I doubt that we're not."

And she smiles too, more serene now—close to the warmth of home, of her world… her two favorite people.

Rhett looks down at baby Rhean, still wide awake—a little more aware than before of the love shared between his parents, and for him.

"And you, little wild one," he says, reaching over, "sleep now and let me have my wife all to myself."

His hand playfully tickles Rhean's round, chubby tummy. Giggles erupt from the baby's mouth, his tiny, chubby arms reaching for Rhett, legs wriggling beneath the quilt as his father's fingers tease his chubby chin and short neck.

Neva laughs, so deeply in love with them both.

She silently prays to hold this peace forever.

Their laughter lingers in the air, sweet and soft, music for her soul—and even for a little while, this moment feels like heaven.