Chapter 18

Eighteen

God, he was tired.

Charlie stood in the third-floor nursery, staring out the window at the snow.

Kaleb had run down to Secret Springs for his alpha breakfast and to pick up some supplies. The sky looked steel gray, but no new snow came down yet. The forecast called for a storm to roll in this weekend, but nothing had shown up yet.

They were going to have a few days snowed in together, relaxing and snuggling on the sofa. He grinned. That was his very favorite thing right now, and he knew he needed to enjoy it.

Soon it would be three a.m. feedings and lots of diapers and…

A wave of sorrow washed over him. And it wasn't his.

"Hey, Ezekiel, man. Is that you? You doing okay? I'm still hunting for a crib to keep up here for you and your baby." Charlie talked to Ezekiel now all the time, feeling a great sense of kinship with the lost omega.

The chill that touched his neck was intense, but not…mean. This was just Ezekiel letting him know he'd heard, Charlie thought. A little communication.

So Charlie kept talking. "It's going to snow again. Hard, they say. I'm looking forward to some toasted marshmallows." He chuckled. "Did they have that when you lived here? Marshmallows? I don't know the history of?—"

His gaze landed on one of the old sheds, right at the edge of the tree line. He could almost see inside. Charlie frowned. Was the door open? None of them should be open. Kaleb had been pretty clear that he didn't want the dogs in there. Damn.

Speaking of which, where were Neo and Trinity?

He frowned and leaned into the window, trying to see. What the hell…was someone in there?

No. There weren't human footprints, but he recognized the Saint Bernards' sure enough. Dammit.

Charlie checked his watch. Well, shit. Kaleb would be gone for another hour, at least. Okay. Downstairs… Why didn't they have an elevator?

He waddled down the three flights of steps, then tried to decide how much actual winter clothing he needed to walk to the tree line.

Boots, coat, hat…gloves? Scarf?

He finally decided boots, because he didn't need cold feet. The hat and scarf were right there and he couldn't find his gloves.

That was what coats had pockets for. He grabbed the flashlight by the door, just in case the dogs were in the shed and hid from him. Neo loved to play hide-and-seek.

He grabbed his phone and shoved it in his pocket, then started trudging to the shed. "What are you hooligans doing in there? Are you hunting? Neo? Trinity? Come on!"

He heard a soft woof, he thought, so he kept going over, pulling his feet through the snow. It was heavy, and the crust sounded like he was breaking through ice. Scary.

It felt like the shed was twenty miles away, and once he got past the part that they called the yard, the drifts were deeper, the snow wetter.

Why had he thought this was a good idea? He whistled. Maybe he could get the dogs to come to him and leave the shed for Kaleb to close up.

They didn't come, so he hurried on faster. "Guys? Is everything okay?" It would kill him if something happened to the big lugs.

He grabbed the flashlight, holding it almost like a club. "Answer me! Come on."

Charlie stepped into the shed, shining the light around, frowning at the sight of a dusty old cradle, filled with feed sacks, just sitting there. "Oh, there it is!"

He'd been hunting for a cradle, and there it was. Waiting. Maybe someone had meant for him to see it in the shed. "Oh, Ezekiel! I found it!"

A loud round of barking came from behind him, startling him, and Charlie spun around, unbalancing.

He knew he was going to fall. He knew it, and when he went down, something in his ankle snapped.

He landed hard, hands finding the edge of the cradle, and he hit the floor hard, the feed bags and wood landing heavy on top of him, trapping him under the weight.

And as soon as he knew there was no way he could move anywhere, a hot rush of wetness burst free and ran down under his legs.

His water had just broken.

Oh.

Oh, no.

"Oh, someone. Help."

"Okay,guys, I need to hit the road." Kaleb looked at the big fat flakes of snow that were falling, shaking his head. Good thing he'd picked up his load of supplies before he'd gone to breakfast. He'd had a feeling the storm was going to break before he was done, and he was right.

"Drive safe," Jack told him, coming to the cash wrap of the diner with him. "I need to do the same. Get back to the ranch."

He lifted a hand to the townies, who could hang out over coffee, then clapped Jack on the back. "Later, man."

He headed out, frowning at how dark the clouds were up above, where his house wasn't even visible for the snow. Crap. He would bet he'd have to chain up when he left the main road. The storm had just crashed over them, not waiting a day as forecasted.

Still, they had enough food to feed an army and all the baby supplies on his lover's list.

It was a long list.

Sure enough, he had to pull off and put the chains on, and by the time he headed back on the road up to the house, he felt…urgent. Something was pushing him, the hair on the back of his neck rising as the snow deepened by the minute.

"Call Charlie." He didn't like this. He didn't. The phone went to voice mail, so he called again.

This time, the phone went live and he exhaled. Oh, thank goodness. "Hey, babe, I?—"

"Ezekiel!"

"Charlie?" That wasn't Charlie. What the fuck?

"Ezekiel!"

Fear speared through him. Something was terribly wrong. "I'm coming, Augustus. I'll help him." He didn't know what else to say, but he hung up because he had to drive as fast as he could without sliding off the damn mountain. Something had happened to Charlie.

Augustus wasn't a murderer—he believed that, wholeheartedly, and so did Charlie—and if he was able to contact Kaleb? Something was wrong.

He called Mark, the alpha who was the police chief in Secret Springs, who he'd just left at the diner.

"Hello?"

"Mark? Something is wrong at the house."

"What happened? Is Charlie okay?"

"I think I'm going to need help." He had no idea what kind, but he could feel it.

"Okay. Okay, what kind of help?"

"I don't know. But I know I need help, and this snow is bad."

Mark blew out a hard breath. "Okay…should I bring Devon?"

"Please? I just need help." He was freaking out, but he had to hold it together for Charlie. "Bring chains."

"We will. We're coming."

He could see the house now, and the tower room light was on, the only sign of life in the house. Had Charlie gone up there?

Fallen?

Bile rose in his throat and he pushed it a little farther.

He parked in the big circular drive, but when he got out of the SUV, he hesitated. Charlie would never turn off all the lights just to go to the tower room. Right? And if the tower was lit up, the power wasn't off…

He ran inside the front door just long enough to see that Charlie's coat wasn't hanging there.

Then he heard Trinity's barking, the sound loud and sharp and clear as a bell.

Also, not inside.

"Trin! Where are you? Show me!" If she was with Charlie, he didn't want to call her away too far, but he needed a direction. The snow made sound echo.

Trinity came barreling up, and there was blood on her fur. Oh god. Oh god.

She didn't let him catch her though. No, she wheeled around and ran back toward the tree line, bounding through the snow like the hardcore rescue dog she was born to be.

He followed, amazed at how deep the snow was off the shoveled paths. Damn it. She kept stopping to look back, barking like a fiend.

"Coming, Trin! Find Charlie! Find Charlie, baby girl!"

Trinity danced as if to say, "Come on, idiot man."

He waded behind her, wondering how Charlie had managed this trek. But then, it had been snowing, and who knew how long—No. He just had to put one foot in front of the damn other and find his husband and get him safe.

The shed with the open door appeared out of the storm so fast that he actually slammed into the door.

"Help me."

Ezekiel, no! You can't be gone. I'm sorry. The storm…

Oh, God. Had Ezekiel frozen to death in a storm like this?

A low growl filled the air.

"Neo! It's me, boy. It's Daddy." He waded into the shed, pulling out his phone to shine light on the floor. "Charlie! Oh my God. Baby. Can I pull the cradle off you? Is anything sticking into you?"

Charlie's face was filthy, streaked with tears. "The baby…she's coming. Please…promise me you'll save her. Tell me you're real."

"I've got you. Help is on the way with Mark. I need to get you to the house and get you warm." He couldn't see broken wood on the cradle, so he eased it off Charlie. It looked like feed sacks had cushioned the blow of the furniture.

His lover was soaked, blood-tinged liquid coating his legs. "This is their cradle."

"I see that." He held back all the questions about why Charlie was here; those could wait. "Is anything broken besides your water?"

"My ankle hurts, bad," Charlie admitted. "I want to go to the house. Please. I need to go inside. The baby is coming."

"I know, baby. I just want to be sure I can move you without damaging you more." He checked Charlie over, then took off his coat to wrap it around him. Nothing had bone sticking out, and the only blood he could find was mixed with the fluid Charlie had lost when his water broke… But that was bad, right?

"Kaleb."

"I know. I got you. I'm going to lift you now." He didn't think Charlie was going to be able to hobble it, and he didn't have any kind of sled or even a tarp to pull him. The feed bags weren't going to do it.

"I'll stand up. I'll try to. The contractions are coming fast, but I'm so cold, and dirty. She can't be born like this."

"Well, no. We need to get to the house." He couldn't wait for Mark, who would have to stop and chain up at the road.

"Okay. Come on. The dogs stayed with me. I can do this. I can do this. I lived. I will not lose my baby. I lived, goddamn it." Charlie grabbed him, screaming as he hauled himself upright. "I LIVED."

"You can. I have you." He put Charlie's arm around his shoulders, and his arm around Charlie's waist. "Let's hit it."

And off they went toward the house.