Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

Carly woke in the middle of the night and reached for Justin, but she found only an empty spot where he should be. She sat up, looked around, and saw him at the window. He noticed she was awake and held out a hand. "Carly, come see."

Carly slid out of bed and picked her robe up from the foot of it. She put it on while she wiggled her feet into her slippers. The floors in this house were always cold. She shuffled over to him, yawning. "What is it?"

"The first snow."

She leaned back against him, and Justin's warm arms enfolded her. Carly looked out the window at the white world, lit by a brilliant moon that peeked through the snow filled clouds. Fat flakes brushed against the window on the way down, and the blanket of snow over the earth seemed to shimmer in the moonlight.

Carly sighed. "It's beautiful." She reached out to touch the window and shivered lightly at the chill radiating from the glass. She was so glad they were snug and safe in their warm little house instead of trying to travel through the snow.

It was early November, to the best of their reckoning. Neither of them was sure of the date. Justin moved his arms downward, and his hands cupped over the small mound of her belly lovingly, protectively. Three months along. Carly wasn't showing much, yet, despite Justin's efforts to fatten her up. She knew Justin was worried about her, but in this case, Carly didn't know how to reassure him. Her nausea had tapered down to an occasional bout in the morning, and so she was able to eat more but Carly hadn't gained as much as he thought she should.

Through the autumn, Justin had collected firewood from every farm within a day's ride and had stacked it on the porch. He'd then cut down some trees from the small stand that lined the banks of the creek, using an axe when he couldn't get the chainsaw to start. It scared her to death when she watched from the kitchen window. Justin wouldn't allow her anywhere nearby. Carly always shouted to him after the tree fell to make sure he was all right.

Shadowfax dragged the logs up to the house where Justin used a handsaw to cut them down into more manageable pieces before splitting them into lengths of firewood. His hands blistered, then bled, and finally built up thick calluses, but he insisted it had to be done in order to have enough wood to keep them warm during the coming winter.

Carly was surprised at how much wood they went through in just a day's time, so she understood why he'd been so worried they wouldn't have enough. Justin kept the kitchen stove stoked and the fires burning in whichever room she was occupying at the time. The house, with its thick, brick walls, was cozy warm, except for the floors. No more running around barefoot.

"Come back to bed," she coaxed, and he followed her back into their warm, soft bed. It was the most comfortable one Carly had ever slept in, but that might be due to Justin, as well. Justin sleeping at her side felt right, like he'd always belonged there and had finally taken his place.

In the morning, they were eating breakfast when Sam lurched to his feet and growled. He ran into the parlor and stood on one of the chairs, his legs braced on the back, to stare out the window, a menacing rumble coming from his chest.

Justin sprang into action. In every room, he had at least two guns stashed in drawers, in closets, in corners. Even the bathroom had guns stashed under the sink. He slung a rifle over his shoulder and snatched two handguns from a drawer. He put his back to the wall beside the front door, the handguns pointed at the ceiling. "Carly, honey, go upstairs," he said, his tone calm and even. He had slipped into what she thought of as soldier mode; focused, cool, and deadly.

"No way," she said "I'm not leaving you."

"Carly..."

"No way. We're a team."

"The baby." Those two words punched into her. Carly hesitated for a moment and then nodded.

"Sam, go with Carly."

"No, Justin, you keep him—"

Justin gave an exasperated laugh. "Don't waste time! Go!"

Carly gave him a quick, hard kiss and dashed up the stairs with Sam right behind her. She took a position by their bed, knowing she could quickly hide beneath it if need be. Sam sat crouched by the door, waiting, his ears erect and pointed forward like horns, his nose already scrunched in a silent snarl.

Justin was right; she had to think of their baby first. She had to get the baby as far away from the potential danger as possible. It was something they had discussed, though Carly didn't even want to think about the possibility. But Justin was a planner by nature and insisted they work out what they would do in case someone tried to attack the house. He'd forced Carly to promise she would run to save herself and the baby. For herself alone, she would have never made such a promise. She felt her place was at Justin's side, come what may, but now, more importantly, there was the baby to consider.

For that reason, there was a ladder lying on the roof of the addition below their bedroom window. Carly could slide it down and climb to the ground in seconds. In the barn, Justin had stashed a bag of supplies and warm clothing.

Carly repeated the plan to herself, as something to concentrate on besides her fear. She was supposed to follow the creek until she came to a small cabin, and if she couldn't go in that direction or had to leave that location, she was to follow the road north one mile to a small farmhouse and hide in the cellar of the barn. She was only supposed to wait twenty-four hours before heading south on her own, something Carly privately thought was a terrible idea, but if both Justin and their supplies were gone, staying would be equally perilous.

Carly did the only thing she could; she clasped her shaking hands together and prayed.

Justin took a cautious peek out the living room curtains and waited for the lone figure to approach the door.

He was glad the house had retained its original doors; they were thick, heavy wood to which he had added a deadbolt. It made Justin feel marginally better about leaving Carly in the house while he went out searching for the things they needed and ensuring there were no signs of threats to their safety.

The smoke from their chimneys was a flag. Justin knew it announced their presence for miles around, though there was no way to prevent it. It would draw honest traders and thieves alike, good people and bad. All Justin could do was hope they would be ready to face any dangers that came their way.

The stranger knocked on the door. A second waited at the end of the driveway with a shopping cart mounted on what looked like a sled—full of their possessions in black trash bags.

Justin twisted the knob and darted back as the door swung open, both of his guns pointed at the face of a surprised man with white hair and a gently wrinkled face. The stranger tossed up his hands, and the blanket over his shoulders drifted to the porch floor.

"What do you want?" Justin demanded.

"Just to trade, son, if you were willing." The stranger's tone was calm and soothing as he backed away slowly. His heel caught in his blanket; he stumbled, and had to grab one of the porch posts to keep from falling. "I don't want to cause any trouble. I'm sorry. I'll be on my way now."

"What did you want to trade?"

The man trembled a little, though from cold or fear, Justin didn't know. He had to respect, however, that the man met his eyes squarely.

"I was hoping you might have some winter clothing you would trade. For my wife." He waved one of his upraised hands toward the figure at the end of the drive. Her face was turned toward them and Justin could see she was just as old as the man, perhaps even older. They were the oldest people Justin had seen since the Crisis.

Justin considered the matter. The stores had little in the way of warm clothes; it had been early summer when the Crisis struck. There was some extra clothing that had belonged to the woman who had lived here before their arrival. It was far too large for Carly, and she wouldn't want it anyway, as bothered as she was by using the possessions of the dead.

Still, Justin was suspicious. "Awful lucky both you and your wife survived the Infection."

The man blushed a little. "She wasn't my wife before the plague. But I didn't think it was proper for a minister to travel with a woman who wasn't his wife. It would make people question my moral character."

Justin blinked. "You're a minister, you say?

Justin took the stairs two at a time and ran down the short hallway to his and Carly's bedroom. He threw open the door, and saw Sam leap to the side to avoid getting smacked by it, but she was nowhere in sight. He called out her name.

She lifted the hem of the dust ruffle and poked her head out from under the bed. That's when he realized he must have alarmed her by running up the stairs like that. "Is everything all right?"

"Everything's great!" Justin said. He reached under the bed, took hold of her arms, and tugged her out. "Marry me."

Carly gaped at him. "What?"

He laughed. "That came out wrong. I meant to say, Will you marry me?"

"What, like now?"

For a long, terrible moment, he thought she was going to refuse, and his insecurities began to creep back in. But then he realized he hadn't explained the situation in his excitement and to her, it must have come out of nowhere. She'd been worried about a gunfight, and he'd run up there and blurted out his request.

He tucked a lock of her caramel-colored hair behind her ear and looked down into the warm brown eyes of the woman he wanted to make his wife. His doubts and fears stemmed from a lifetime of abandonment, and they still whispered to him that she could do better and might change her mind once she had other options. He remembered what Carly had once said about wishing her head could convince her heart. He knew Carly wasn't that kind of woman, but a lifetime of scars wouldn't disappear overnight.

This was his chance to have something he'd always thought was impossible—a family. A wife and baby of his own. Carter had urged him to seize happiness instead of holding it off from fear of what the future might bring, and that's exactly what Justin intended to do. He kissed Carly, light and sweet. "There's a preacher downstairs."

Carly's expression turned from confusion to delight. "Why didn't you say so? Of course I'll marry you!"

Justin wanted to thank her, to promise he'd be a good husband for as long as she'd have him, but his throat was too tight for words.

"Dearly beloved, we join today Carly and Justin in the bonds of holy matrimony..."

Justin wished he'd brought Carly a dress. Any kind of dress. She shouldn't have to get married wearing a pair of sweats, though they were her newest, nicest clothing.

Justin had a ring for her, at least. The minister's wife had pulled her own from her finger and insisted they keep it for their own. "I'm not attached to it. I got it from a store after we got married because I thought we should have one. I can get another. And your bride needs a ring." Justin was so grateful that he had given her one of his precious jars of peaches for it.

When it came time for Carly to make her vows to him, she slipped her father's ring, the one that had The Unit's insignia, onto his finger. He was so touched she'd given it to him that tears stung his eyes. He knew how much it meant to her, and he would have cherished it for that reason alone, but it was also a symbol of their union.

As though through divine intervention, both rings fit perfectly.

Justin promised to comfort, honor and keep Carly through sickness and health—those words had special resonance—and to be faithful as long as he lived. He meant it with all of his heart. Tears sparkled in Carly's eyes as she promised the same. She didn't wait for the reverend to pronounce them husband and wife before she jumped into Justin's arms and kissed him with such enthusiasm she nearly knocked him over.

Reverend Davis had blank marriage certificates in his shopping cart, and he filled one out for them; Mrs. Davis signed as one of the witnesses. The other line would remain blank, making the event dubiously legal—if such a thing as law existed anymore—but it was the closest they would ever come. In the back pages of his Bible, the reverend wrote their names and, after a bit of discussion and guesswork, the date of their marriage.

Carly insisted the Reverend and his wife stay for dinner. She made a tuna noodle casserole, which turned out well despite the powdered ingredients. The Reverend said it was the best meal they'd had in months, the first warm meal they'd had in weeks.

Justin pitied them, as neither was suited for this new world. They had been staying in abandoned houses, lighting small fires when they could, and slowly trying to make their way south. The Reverend was content that God would take care of them until their mission—whatever God willed it to be—was done, and then he would call them Home.

Carly listened with sharp attentiveness to the Reverend's explanation. She had told Justin about similar thoughts she'd had; she and Justin might have been brought together for a reason.

They were a nice couple and pleasant conversationalists, and Justin knew Carly felt bad for sending them on their way after supper. Justin had been generous in his trades. He'd practically given away the clothing they wanted. He knew he could have been shrewder in his dealings, but his emotions led had the way. Perhaps Carly was having a greater influence on him than he'd thought.

"Maybe we should have asked them to stay the night," Carly mused as their bundled-up figures disappeared down the road.

"Mmm, really?" He bent down to nip her ear. "On our wedding night?"

Her eyes widened, and she turned to him with that look in her eyes that always sent a burning bolt of lust through him.

"Do you think they'll be all right?"

Justin kissed her before he answered. "I gave them directions to that little fishing cabin along the creek. I left wood and supplies in case you ever had to go there, remember? They'll be warm and safe." His hand toyed with the zipper on the front of her outfit.

"I need to put away the leftovers," she said reluctantly.

"Leave them," he said.

"But Tigger and Sam will eat it!" They had seen it before. The cat and dog worked in tandem, with the cat jumping up to places Sam couldn't reach and knocking things down to the floor, where they could both enjoy them. Sam always looked guilty afterward, but Justin never blamed him for being opportunistic. It was in a wolf's nature, after all.

"Let them have a treat." He bent and scooped her off her feet, and she squealed as he ran up the stairs.

"Justin?" Carly said as he placed her gently in the center of their bed.

"Mmm?" He was occupied with yanking his shirt over his head.

"It was a wonderful idea. Thank you."

"No need to thank me." He unbuttoned his jeans and pushed them down over his hips and then cursed a little as his feet got tangled and he had to hop around awkwardly to pull them off.

"Of course there is," Carly said. "It was a lovely wedding."

"You don't regret not having a church and a white dress?"

Carly had always imagined she would wear her mother's dress when she got married, and her dad would walk her down the aisle. Like many girls, she had daydreamed about things like cakes and flowers and bridesmaids, but she realized how unimportant those things were.

"My wedding was perfect," she said, "because of the man I was marrying. That's all that matters."

She cupped his cheek in her palm and he turned his head to nuzzle a kiss into her open hand. From downstairs, they heard a crash in the kitchen and they both laughed as they tumbled back together into the bed.

For Christmas, Justin went out, chopped down a small pine tree, and brought it into the house. Carly decorated it with strings of only slightly scorched popcorn and put a star, cut from the bottom of a tin pie pan, at the top. Justin helped, cutting decorations out of colored paper they had found in the office and further adorning them by drawing little designs with colored pencils. He made one with a portrait of all three of their animals, which Carly vowed to keep and treasure forever. He was quite an artist, and the portraits were very good.

Carly had no presents for Justin, which bothered her. She made him a peach cobbler on Christmas Eve, just a bit scorched, as well, but she didn't have anything to put under the tree for him. Justin, the sly dog, had held back some of the things he'd gotten during his last trip to town before the snow fell, and he had wrapped her gifts in white typing paper, decorated with whimsical designs.

Carly brooded on it for days. She considered laying herself naked under the tree, wearing nothing but a strategically placed red bow, but as much as he might enjoy that, it was a "present" he already had. In the middle of the night on Christmas Eve, inspiration struck, and Carly slid out of bed.

Justin woke. "Where are you going?"

"To the bathroom." She was being honest about that part, at least. Pregnancy seemed to stimulate her bladder.

Afterward, Carly went into the office and sat down at the desk. There was a new notebook in a drawer. She took it out and began to write. She never did return to bed. When Justin shuffled out of their bedroom, he found her downstairs in the living room, by the tree. "Morning, honey." He greeted her with a yawn. "I must not have heard you get up."

Carly let that pass. "Merry Christmas, Justin."

Justin kissed her. "Merry Christmas."

She unwrapped her presents first, at Justin's insistence. He seemed excited by it, as if giving presents was more fun for him than actually receiving them.

He'd gotten her a new board game; a trivia game because he knew how much she liked them, a bit of a sacrifice on his part since he always struggled with reading the questions when it was her turn. The next package contained more books, which was good because she was running low. He handed another package to her with the same tentative look he'd worn at the wagon after his first trip to town.

"The baby hasn't been born yet, but this is our first Christmas with him or her, so I thought..." The look he gave her was a little sheepish.

"Justin, I think that's very sweet of you." Carly unwrapped it carefully so she could save the paper and found a selection of baby items, including more clothing, a baby sling, pacifiers, a rattle, and a wind-up butterfly mobile to hang above the crib.

Justin was building the baby's crib himself, using tools he'd taken from the small museum in town and that book he'd found on old-fashioned furniture making that had step-by-step instructions. The process seemed to involve a lot of cursing and banging, and Justin had refused to let her see it in progress.

Carly wondered occasionally what the crib meant. He didn't intend to transport the crib with them when they headed south, did he? Did he intend for them to stay there for a while after the baby was born? Carly was due in early May, the best she could figure, but the book said first pregnancies varied in due dates. When Justin first talked about their winter home, he'd made it seem as if they would move on in the late spring, once he was sure they wouldn't be caught in a sudden blizzard.

The last item was a baby book, not intended for photographs, but to record memories of her pregnancy and the baby's first life experiences. Carly's voice was too choked with tears to thank him, so she gave him a hard hug instead, and Justin smiled, delighted she had loved his gifts.

Carly gave him the only present she had for him. He unwrapped it and found a notebook, with the words 101 Things I Love About You written on the cover, but she had crossed out the "101" and replaced it with "201," but then she had scratched out the "201" leaving only "Things I Love About You." He opened the book and found it filled with Carly's large, loopy handwriting, all the way to the last page.

1) Your smile. When it's wicked or sweet, teasing or happy. It makes my heart soar whenever I see it.

2) Your eyes. Dark and seductive, or warm and loving.

The list went on and on... His strength, his bravery, his kindness, his considerate nature... Justin looked up at Carly, and his eyes contained something akin to awe.

"I found more than a hundred things, so I just kept going," she said, and she felt a little shy about it. He was still staring at her, and it made her a little nervous. He didn't have a problem reading her handwriting like he did with printed material, but maybe he thought it was a silly idea or—

"I don't know what to say," he rasped and blinked rapidly. "No one has ever... God, Carly, thank you. I'll treasure it, always."

Carly crawled up onto Justin's lap and put her arms around his neck. He held her, and they both looked past the Christmas tree to watch the falling snow.

Justin found Carly in the barn and took a deep breath before speaking. He didn't want to yell at her, but he had been worried when he couldn't find her anywhere. The barometer indicated a storm was on its way, as though the dark and lowering clouds were not enough warning.

Tigger and Sam were right outside of Shadowfax's stall. Justin had cleaned it out that morning, and it had a thick, comfortable layer of straw on the floor. There was large helping of hay suspended in a wood rack on the side of the stall, but Shadowfax hadn't touched it. She was restless, pawing the ground and pacing. Justin had removed the door to her stall so Shadowfax could come and go as she pleased, but she stayed within it, despite the way it shortened the distance she could pace.

Carly looked back at Justin, her forehead wrinkled with worry. "Something's wrong with her."

"I was worried about you," Justin said, addressing his primary concern. "There's a storm coming."

"I know. That's what you said at breakfast," Carly said in an absent tone. Shadowfax stopped her pacing and lowered her head for Carly to pet.

Justin took a deep breath. She wasn't taking this seriously enough. "You shouldn't have come out here. If the blizzard came—"

"I'd follow the rope." Carly's brows crunched together with worry as Shadowfax tossed her head and let out a soft whinny.

"What?"

"You said there might be a blizzard, so I took a rope from the barn and tied it to the porch railings beside the door." She pointed to the end of the rope, which lay on the floor inside the barn door. "I'd just follow it back if I couldn't see the house."

Justin had to smile. "Carly, that was very clever of you."

"Thank you." She smiled, too, but hers was tense. "Justin, I'm really worried about Shadowfax. I knew something was wrong when she didn't come to the kitchen window today to get her treat. Could it be she can sense the storm and is worried?" Carly's eyes grew hopeful at this last idea.

"I don't know, honey." He pressed his thumb into one of the horse's ears. Her temperature felt normal, as far as Justin could determine. Her huge, bulging belly seemed to have developed a point toward the front. He hadn't had a chance to check it out when Carly wasn't around. He hoped to God it wasn't a tumor. He didn't know how Carly would cope if her beloved horse died, or worse, if he had to put her down to spare her a slow, painful death. God, it would kill him to have to do it. Shadowfax, Sam, and Tigger were part of the family, and it made his heart ache to think of losing any of them.

Shadowfax pawed the ground and tossed her head. Carly made soothing noises but the horse snorted and pawed again. Justin slowly moved up to Carly's side in case the horse reared or kicked. He didn't think Shadowfax would intentionally hurt Carly, but Carly could get in the way of a flying hoof or knocked down by a butting head. Shadowfax resumed her agitated pacing and then went over to the corner of her stall and lay down.

"Oh, my God," Carly whispered. "She must be really sick."

He wanted to send Carly into the house, but he knew she'd refuse to budge. To his alarm, she went into the stall and sat on the straw by Shadowfax's head. The horse made a soft grumbling sound and laid her head on Carly's lap. Inches away from his unborn child. He was about to go into the stall and remove Carly by scooping her up into his arms when he saw something strange.

Something was emerging from the back of the horse, some type of membrane. Justin knelt to examine it more closely. An intestine? he wondered. He was horrified and started thinking of ways he could grab Carly, cover her eyes, and convince her to stay in the house while he—

A small hoof appeared, and the membrane broke with a sudden gush of fluid, splashing Justin from head to toe. He laughed; it was the only way he could react after having just been soaked in such a fashion. "Carly, she's not sick. She's having a foal."

"What?" Carly gasped. "Really?"

"Yes. I can see one of the feet."

Carly hugged Shadowfax's head, and tears dripped down onto the horse's hair. "Oh, thank God. Thank God."

"I can't believe I didn't think of her being pregnant." Justin shook his head with a rueful grin. "She must have gotten pregnant before the Crisis. Your horse book said they have a gestation period of almost a year."

She smiled at him and craned her neck as much as she could without disturbing Shadowfax's head. "What can you see?"

"One little hoof sticking out, and here comes another."

"Justin, run and get the horse book," Carly urged, "so we'll know if everything is going right."

"No, Carly, I'm not leaving you alone in here with her. I know you trust her, and I do, too, but she could hurt you without meaning to if she starts to thrash around." Justin kept his voice low, his tone as soothing as possible. "Try to keep her calm."

"Do you think she's in pain?" Carly gently stroked Shadowfax's long jaw. The horse's body heaved with the effort, and her tail was raised high.

"No, I don't think so. At least, not as painful as human births. She seems a little uncomfortable, but nothing unbearable." He gave Carly a delighted grin. "I can see the nose!"

Carly's eyes sparkled. "What does it look like?"

"I—uh—I can't really tell." The foal was covered in a membrane. "Here it comes!" Half of a foal slid, bit by bit, from Shadowfax's body, stopping at the hips. They waited, breathlessly, but nothing else happened. Shadowfax huffed and lifted her head. She arched her neck and rumbled as contraction after contraction rippled through her body, but the foal remained inside. She rolled over onto her belly, and her legs thrashed in the straw. Justin was very glad Carly wasn't in the way of those hooves. The poor horse jerked with each contraction, but the foal didn't move.

"It's stuck!" Carly cried. "Pull it out! Pull it out!"

"Jesus, Carly, I can't just yank on the thing."

"She's hurting!" Carly scrambled up from the floor and went down to the other end of the horse. She reached for the foal.

"No, Carly, don't. She could kick—"

"She won't kick us. We're trying to help."

If he lived to be a hundred years old, he would never understand his wife's way of thinking. Justin thought fast. "All right. I'll try turning it a little." He grasped the foal's slippery body and twisted it to the side with gentle insistence. Shadowfax strained again, and the foal slid out to sprawl in a graceless heap onto Justin's lap. He tore the membrane away from the foal's face and it looked up at him, bewildered. It was smoky gray with a light tail and mane. Justin lifted one of the little legs and tore the rest of the membrane away from the foal's body. "A girl."

"Oh, Justin, she's beautiful," Carly whispered. Tears glittered on her cheeks.

"Carly, hand me that blanket." Justin pointed to a blanket Carly had been draping over Shadowfax since the first snowfall. She thought the horse had to be cold and so she'd drape it over her back and used an oversized safety pin to hold it in place. Justin had made no comment about Shadowfax's cape, though he was tempted to point out that wild horses seemed to fare just fine, and they didn't have a cozy barn with straw bedding to go inside if they were cold. Carly handed him the blanket, and he used it to dry the foal's coat. It was too cold in the barn for a wet baby, he thought.

Shadowfax surged to her feet and turned around to inspect the little horse still lying, dazed and wobbly, on Justin's lap. She sniffed at the baby and then began to lick. Justin lifted the foal onto a patch of clean straw and backed away to give mother and baby a chance to bond.

"What do you want to name her?" Carly asked.

"Me?" Justin smiled at her. He would have hugged her, but he was soaked in horse goo. "You don't have a name already picked out? You named Tigger about thirty seconds after meeting her. Are we staying with the Winnie the Pooh theme?"

"You brought her into this world. You get to name her."

Justin looked out at the swirling snow under the dark, lowering clouds. "Storm."

On a beautiful spring afternoon at the beginning of May, Carly stood at the pasture fence and watched Sam and Storm frolic in the field. Tigger sat on the fence post beside Carly, where Sam had left her. He had a habit of carrying the cat around and dropping her at a designated spot where he expected her to stay until he returned, like a bone he wanted to save. The cat wasn't very happy with being hauled around by her scruff all the time, but she submitted to it with as much grace as a disgruntled cat could manage.

Storm wasn't entirely sure she was a horse. She had learned Sam's body language early and currently spoke fluent "wolf." She was even able to approximate a play bow by splaying her front legs and dipping her head as an invitation to a rousing game of chase. She would toss her head back and whinny when Sam howled.

They had kept Sam away from Storm for the first few weeks of the filly's life. As much as Shadowfax liked Sam, Justin and Carly were concerned her instincts to protect her baby, and the ones that insisted in her equine mind the smell of wolf meant "danger," might overwhelm her. They had cautiously introduced the two, and Shadowfax grazed as Storm and Sam chased each other around the fields. Sam knew he was not allowed to tackle Storm. The first time he had done it, Shadowfax had run over to them, screaming in alarm. Sam had retreated, his head bowed and his tail tucked between his legs, even as Storm hopped to her feet and pranced around her, tail held high, as though to say, "I'm fine, Mom!" Sam had never done it again.

Carly had been suffering from an aching back all day. She'd decided to go on a little walk down to the pasture beside the barn, hoping it would, perhaps, help loosen some of the sore muscles. She must have slept funny.

And then it hit her—a rippling cramp—and Carly winced. What in the—? It dawned on her what the pain meant, and Carly let out a little laugh of excitement. Her baby was coming!

"Sam!" she called, and he ran over to her obediently, followed by Storm. His tongue lolled out of the side of his mouth, and she remembered her dad once telling her the stupider a dog looked, the happier it was. The same, it seemed, applied to wolves. "Call for Justin." Sam tossed his head back and let out a long howl.

That was something Justin had taught him over the winter. He'd said every wolf should know how to howl and teasingly chastised Carly for ignoring this part of Sam's education. And since he would do it on command, it was an excellent way of calling Justin back to the house when he was outside working or scavenging the nearby farms.

"Thank you." Carly gave him a scratch on the ruff and headed back toward the house. Sam stood, his forelegs against the post, and picked up his cat. Tigger gave a small snort, but allowed it, dangling limp from Sam's jaws as he trotted along behind Carly.

Halfway to the house, Carly felt a gush of liquid leave her, and she thought for a moment her bladder must have let go, before she chuckled ruefully. You'd think with all of the books she'd read over the winter about babies and pregnancy she'd recognize the signs.

Her heart was hammering, and Carly took deep breaths to try to calm down. Fear warred with excitement. It was only natural to be scared, even though all the books she'd read had been reassuring. She was young and healthy; the odds were on her side. She told herself she had to have faith. She wouldn't have been brought this far only to have something go wrong at that point.

She knew Justin was worried about her. All winter long, he had obsessively read the two obstetrical texts he had found at the used book store, squinting at the tiny print through the blue plastic filter. All they seemed to do was worry him further, and at one point, Carly had been tempted to hide them so Justin wouldn't keep checking her for obscure symptoms and freaking out over every ache and pain. Carly tried to remain patient with him, difficult as it was sometimes with her hormones fluctuating, because she knew it came from love. He was terrified he was going to lose her. The closer her time came, the more worried he was.

She had time to change into one of Justin's T-shirts and clean herself up before she heard him open the kitchen door. He shouted her name.

"Up here, Justin," she called, and she heard him take the stairs two at a time.

He came through the bedroom door so fast he skidded. His eyes were wide with panic. "What's wrong?"

"I think I'm going into labor now," Carly told him and was pleased by how steady and composed her voice sounded. Inside, she was a jangle of nerves. "My water broke."

"Oh, my God. Oh, my God." Justin ran his hands through his hair. "You need to lie down!"

"Justin, I'm fine!" Carly protested, but he wasn't listening to her as he began his preparations. He'd had the supplies in place for weeks, sterilized and stored in plastic containers under the bed.

Despite his protests that she should be lying down or at least sitting, Carly helped him get out all of the supplies and prepare the room. They covered the mattress with a tarp, then put a set of comfortable sheets over it, and moved the pillows so Carly would be lying on the bed horizontally, making it easier for him to reach her. He patted the bed, and Carly lay down, propped up against the pillows.

"I need to check you, honey, and see how far you've dilated."

Having Justin look at her in a clinical manner was somehow a little uncomfortable. Carly propped her knees up as he requested and concentrated on the canopy above their bed.

Carly ran over the list of things they'd need one last time in her head. Justin had done really well on his scavenging mission to town and had gotten nearly everything on the first trip. She hadn't said anything when she discovered the scalpel he had hidden at the bottom of the supply box. He had cleaned everything obsessively, first boiling the instruments in sterilized water and then soaking them in alcohol. He cleaned everything again before he used them. The smell of alcohol stung her nose, and she heard the snap of latex as he donned a pair of gloves.

"You're doing just fine, just fine." Justin's voice was soft and lulling, though she could see how his hands shook. After he checked her, he laid down beside her, propped up on her pillows. "Only about four centimeters—early stages yet. Have you had any more contractions?"

Carly thought about it. "They're more like cramps, so I don't know if that's a contraction or not."

"How far apart?"

"I... um... I forgot to time them." Carly felt like smacking her forehead. Reading all of those baby books and then forgetting the most basic thing.

"Just tell me when you're having them, and I'll take care of it." He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers. "I love you, Carly."

"I love you, too, Justin. Please don't worry. I'm fine. Healthy as a horse." She snuggled against his side and tried to reassure him with a smile. "And speaking of horses, you already have experience with delivering babies, right?"

He gave a faint smile at her attempt at teasing, though his eyes were still worried.

"There's another one."

He checked the mantle clock, which he'd brought up from the living room for the purpose of timing contractions.

If this was what having a baby was like, Carly thought, she was going to handle it well. She even dozed for a while between contractions. The contractions grew worse over the afternoon, but it wasn't until early evening they actually became painful. She tried to be brave, tried to be tough so she wouldn't worry Justin any worse than he already was, but by nightfall, she couldn't help crying out when they seized her. Every time, he would wince like he felt it, too.

"Did you get any drugs?" she asked when the pain became more or less continuous. "An epidural, heroin, anything?"

"I'm sorry, Carly," Justin's eyes pleaded for understanding. "It could be dangerous. God, you don't know how much I wish I could—"

It was a risk she was willing to take at that point. She'd been prepared for pain and intended to be as stoic as possible when enduring it, but it hurt. She panted and tried to force herself into the breathing pattern they'd practiced, but whenever a fresh wave of pain hit her, she'd forget to breathe entirely. And just when she thought it couldn't get any worse, it did. A scream wrenched from her throat, and her head fell back against her pillows. "Justin, I can't... I can't do this!" she babbled, though she knew it was stupid, even as she said it. She didn't have much of a choice in the matter.

Justin leaned up and kissed her. "Yes, you can. You're tougher than I could ever hope to be, Carly. You can do this."

"It hurts!"

"I know, honey. I know. We're going to get through this, Carly. You're doing great." His hair stood up in all directions from the number of times he'd run his hands through it, and his eyes were wide in his haggard face, but he smiled at her, or at least he tried to. It looked more like a grimace, and she wasn't sure if it was just his stress at seeing her in pain or if there was something wrong.

"I need to push," she said as she panted.

"Not yet, honey."

"I can't... I have to..."

He locked his eyes on hers. "Soon, honey. Come on. Take my hand."

She gripped it, hard. Her teeth were clenched so tightly, she worried she might break one. She tried to remind herself to remain calm for his sake, but the thought was blown away like a leaf on the wind when another wave of pain tore through her. "Justin... I..." She groaned and tossed her head.

"I know, honey, it's okay. I promise everything is okay." She could tell from the too-relaxed tone of his voice he was trying not to worry her, as well. Her laugh turned into a moan she couldn't hold back.

It seemed like forever before he told her she could push. She did, groaning and straining. Tears leaked from her eyes, and sweat popped out on her forehead.

"Everything is just fine. I can see the head, Carly. Come on, honey, you can do this."

Why is it taking so long?In movies, the baby was born just moments after the head emerged. Time lost its meaning. She was gone in a sea of pain, drowning in it. She could hear Justin's voice, but it seemed far away and dim, and the words had little meaning.

Suddenly, there was a strange sliding sensation, and Justin cried out as the baby slid into his waiting hands. "Carly, it's a girl!" A high-pitched wail filled the room.

Carly sobbed—in relief, in joy. "Give her to me!"

"Let me check her, honey." Justin laid the baby down on a clean towel, cleared her nostrils with a little blue bulb syringe, tied and then cut the cord. He handed Carly their daughter—a tiny, squirming, squalling bundle, wrapped snugly in the towel. Carly wept as she examined her, counting the tiny fingers, then checking her fat little feet while Justin helped her to deliver the afterbirth and cleaned her up. Carly barely noticed because she was so entranced with her tiny daughter.

"Carly? Can I have her back for a moment?" Justin smiled at her, his eyes tender and warm. "I want to clean her up a bit, and you probably want to get changed."

Carly hadn't even noticed the baby was still gooey. She laughed softly and handed the baby to her father, and he used a bowl of warm water to sponge her clean. He'd found an old-fashioned food scale at one of the stores in town and he wrapped the baby in another clean towel and put her into the scoop. "Seven pounds, nine ounces," he announced, sounding very proud of that fact. "Perfect!"

"She is perfect," Carly said as she wriggled into a fresh nightgown. Her body ached all over, and she was trembling with exhaustion, but she was the happiest she had ever been. She saw Justin press a gentle kiss to the top of their baby's head and thought her heart would burst from the love it held for the two of them. "She's the most beautiful baby I've ever seen." And it didn't occur to her she might be a tiny bit biased.

Justin handed the baby back to Carly and stripped the bed of its soiled linen. When he had it remade, they both climbed into it, leaning up against the headboard. The baby blinked her bleary eyes at them, and they exchanged a smile. Justin put his arm around Carly's shoulder and drew her close. His eyes were shining, and a huge, goofy grin stretched across his face. They both stared down in wonder at this tiny, beautiful person they had created together.

Carly untied the neck of her nightgown, put the baby up to her breast, and waited. Nothing. Carly frowned, turned the baby a bit, and pushed her nipple into the baby's mouth. Nothing. Carly looked up at Justin in alarm.

"Don't worry, honey," he said. "We read about this, remember? It's all right if she doesn't latch on right away. She might not even be hungry yet."

Her brain knew that, but her heart was panicking as if she'd failed her baby already. What if she never learns to latch on? What if—?

"Carly, stop. No reason to worry yet. Just hold her there, where she can listen to your heart. It will relax you both. Why don't you sing to her? She loves that."

When the baby had seemed to be using her liver as a soccer ball, Carly used to sing, and the baby would go still, as if enraptured by the sound of her voice. She sang a lullaby she remembered her mother used to sing to her when she was little. The baby fell asleep, and Carly faltered, her eyes filling with tears. But they were tears of joy, and Justin smiled as he handed her a tissue.

"Have you decided what you want to name her?"

They had discussed and debated many names and had narrowed the list down to around half a dozen for both sexes. She had prayed Justin was joking when he said he wanted to name a son Elvis. "I think I want to name her ‘Dagny.' It means ‘a new day' according to the book on baby names you gave me. And that's what she is. She's a new day, a new beginning for the human race."

"I like it," Justin said. " ‘Dagny,' it is."

They snuggled together with their baby, their new beginning.

Justin came home for lunch, and Carly was grateful for the distraction. She laid Dagny in her crib and went into Justin's arms for a hug.

"You seem upset," he said. He bent and kissed her, and she tried to smile, but it was a wobbly effort at best.

"Breastfeeding woes." That morning, Dagny had latched on just fine and Carly had felt like shouting in victory, but during her second feeding, the baby had turned away and whimpered until Carly surrendered and fed her a bottle of her pumped breast milk.

"Give it time, Carly. She's not even a month old yet, and she's not starving. She's gaining weight just like she should be."

Carly nodded. She knew all of that, but she still felt like a failure, deep within her secret heart.

"Where's my little Daggers?" Justin cooed and lifted the baby out of her crib.

"Her name is Dagny," Carly said, and he gave her a mischievous grin that lightened her spirits a little. "Dag-nee. Remember? You were there when I named her."

"Oh, I remember. I never forget a name." He rubbed his nose against the baby's and smiled down at her. Dagny gurgled and patted one of her plump little hands against his cheek.

Carly snorted. "You forgot mine the whole first week I knew you."

"No, I didn't. That was... Well, I needed you to get comfortable with me. If you started off every conversation by correcting me and asserting your identity, you would feel a bit more comfortable, at least subconsciously."

Carly shook her head with a smile. "I was right about you. You are a tricksy hobbit." She opened a can of Spam, diced it up into tiny squares, and tossed it into the skillet with some shredded potatoes.

Justin laid Dagny back into her crib and wound up the mobile dangling above it. "Need any help?"

"No, I've got it. It'll be ready soon." Carly's cooking had improved over the winter, and she was rather proud of her culinary efforts. She sprinkled in some spices and pepper.

"Smells great," Justin said. "And I'm starving."

"Did you find anything else in town?" Carly hadn't been happy about his decision to go back into town, but their stores of food were getting low, and he wanted to see if other looters had overlooked anything and maybe check in places they might not have thought to search, like office vending machines. She'd been surprised by how fast it all went, actually. There weren't even many more potatoes in the cellar.

"There wasn't much left," Justin said. "I have a feeling we're going to run into the same problem when we start moving again."

It was the first time in a while he'd mentioned continuing their travels. "We haven't discussed that yet. I wasn't sure if you were..." Carly paused. "I'd be happy staying here." It had been a thought which occurred to her frequently over the last few weeks. She could see them building a life there with their daughter.

Justin shook his head. "We can't stay, Carly. It was a wonderful home for us over the winter, but I can't grow enough food and collect enough firewood to see us through another winter."

"I can help." Carly pointed this out, feeling a bit miffed he hadn't included her.

"We're not farmers, honey. Farming by hand is brutally hard work, and we could lose everything if there was a cold snap, or an insect infestation... any number of things. Storing it all would be difficult as well. We've never canned before, and if we didn't get it right, we could get a severe case of food poisoning. I'm sorry, Carly, but I won't risk your life or Dagny's just because we liked a place."

She couldn't argue with his logic. "When?"

"At the end of this month."

So soon?Carly scraped the finished Spam hash onto two plates. Justin smiled and thanked her when she handed it to him.

"I'd hoped to wait until Dagny was a little older, but we can't. We have to get started soon, or we run the risk of being stuck somewhere over winter again with inadequate food supplies."

"What are we going to do?" Carly took her seat, but leaned over to check on Dagny before she picked up her fork. "We don't have enough food to make it to Florida."

"I'm hoping if we stay off the main routes and take the back roads, we may find stores along the way that haven't been looted to the bare walls yet." Justin took a bite and patted his lips with a napkin before he continued. "All of the survivors are in the same position we are, Carly. For the time being, we all have to live off what food remains from the old world. Few of us are prepared to live as farmers, especially not in a northern climate."

"Won't there be a lot of people down South?"

"More than here," he said.

She looked down at her plate. She knew what he meant. Many trapped up here by the snows probably hadn't survived. She thought of Reverend Davis, the preacher who had married them, and hoped he and his wife were among those who had made it through the winter.

"We're going to have to loot houses along the way. We may find more food there than in stores." He saw the grim set of her face. "Cheer up, honey. We have a lot of trade goods, and besides, Sam will keep us in rabbits. We'll be fine, I promise. I won't let you or Dagny go hungry."

"Won't we find any towns?"

"What do you mean?" His gaze sharpened, and he laid down his fork.

"People living together. Communities. You said it once yourself, humans evolved to survive through cooperative society, not alone."

Justin's expression went carefully blank, and whenever that happened, Carly knew something had bothered him. "Is that what you want, ultimately? To live in a community?"

She bit her lip and considered her answer before she spoke. "Wouldn't our chances be better? More people to grow food and guard us from danger. Trying to survive alone... As you said, there are so many things that could go wrong, but with others helping us, we would have more options."

He went back to eating, but that blank expression stayed in place. "If that's what you want."

"You don't like the idea."

Carly could tell he was considering something disingenuous to say, but he chose honesty, and she was grateful. "No, Carly, I don't. You're right that more people mean more hands to do the work and to defend what's ours, but with people come problems and conflicts. You're putting your fate into their hands, trusting them with our lives, with our daughter's life. And that level of trust doesn't come as easily for me as it does for you."

"You sound as if you think I'm gullible." She made a little face at him in an attempt to lighten the mood, but Justin didn't smile.

He shook his head. "That's not what I meant. I mean you're more... socially orientated than I am. I'll admit, I'd be content with just you and Dagny for the rest of my life, but if you want a community, that's what we'll search for. Or we could build one of our own. That way, we could handpick the residents."

Who would we pick and who would we reject? Who would we leave to die in the wilderness?

Sometimes, it seemed as though Justin could read her mind. "We don't have a moral obligation to try to save everyone in the wasteland, honey. Our job is to survive, and maybe we can rebuild a world that someday has the luxury of charity."

"Charity is not a luxury," Carly retorted. "We can't let the best part of us die out with the old world."

Justin reached across the table and took her hand in his. "If we find a community and I tell you we should move on, will you trust me?"

She didn't know whether she should be insulted or not as he seemed to be implying his instincts were sharper than her own, but she knew he was just worried and probably didn't mean it the way it sounded. "You know I trust you, Justin."

He finished his last bite and took his plate over to the sink. "We might have some trouble getting people to accept Sam."

"Why? He stays right by my side wherever I go. It's not like he'd be running around, tearing into people's trash bags. He doesn't even bark."

"He's a wolf, Carly."

"That's not his fault. And he's very nice. Surely, if people meet him..."

Justin shook his head. "He's still a wolf. It's like the tale of the viper and the farmer."

"I've never heard that one."

"It's in Aesop's Fables. A farmer finds a snake freezing in the snow and takes pity on it. He puts the snake inside his coat to keep it warm. The snake revives and bites him."

She waited for the punch line, but he said nothing further. "That's it?"

Justin gave her a small smile. "It was the snake's nature. Likewise, Sam has some things that are part of his nature. He'll always be a wolf, even if he sleeps on the foot of our bed and carries that damn cat wherever he goes. People will be afraid he might hurt them or their children."

"He's not like that, and you know it."

Justin met her eyes levelly. "I never leave him alone with Dagny."

Carly was startled. She thought back over the last month and realized it was true. She started to say she left Dagny alone with Sam all the time, but that didn't seem prudent. Sam lay beneath her crib—as though guarding her—with Tigger curled at his side. She remembered her own concerns about Tigger, having heard stories of cats accidentally smothering babies. She supposed they all had their preconceptions.

"It's not that I think he would hurt her intentionally," Justin said.

Carly nodded. She understood what he meant. Sam might not understand how fragile human babies were and could hurt Dagny without meaning to. But caution with any animal was sensible. It would be unfair for someone to think Sam was especially dangerous just because of his species. "Well, if they won't accept Sam, I don't want to live with them."

Justin nodded gravely. "I'll respect your decision."

She hid a smile. Of course he would. He didn't want to live with other people anyway.

A week before they were set to leave, Justin altered their horse-drawn wagon somewhat by replacing the wheels with thick, wide tires and installing springs to make the ride smoother. He brought it into the barn and began to load it, using every inch of space as efficiently as possible, even though their load of supplies was smaller than it had been before and the wagon was larger. Perhaps he was expecting to find a lot of stuff, Carly thought.

He put Dagny's crib behind their seat, fastened in place with cables. He was worried that rough ground might jiggle the baby too much, but Carly shrugged and said if it was too rough, she'd get out and carry her.

Justin put a halter on Storm for the first time and got her used to it so he could tie her to the wagon. He didn't completely trust Shadowfax's placid nature when it came to Dagny and was worried she might bolt with the wagon if something frightened her, but with her baby tied to it, perhaps she'd be more careful. And it would prevent the curious Storm from wandering off and getting into trouble.

Justin taped a gun under the seat. He showed it to Carly, and she made no comment. She hoped she never had to touch a gun again. Every so often, she still had bad dreams of that horrible couple who had shot Justin with the arrow and of the man in the train depot. She knew she had done the right thing, but it still bothered her that she had killed people, taken human lives. She supposed it was like Justin said: It shouldn't be an easy thing to do.

Carly walked slowly through the house on the day they left, saying good-bye to each room as she remembered what had taken place in each. She was glad Justin was out making last-minute additions to the wagon and wasn't there to see her tears.

In their bedroom, she lingered by the large, soft bed where she and Justin had come together the first time as husband and wife and where their baby had been born. On impulse, she took a pencil from the office and wrote on the back wall of the closet, "Justin and Carly lived here, and we were happy. 2013."With one last glance from the doorway, she went downstairs and out onto the porch.

"Did we forget anything?" Justin asked.

Carly shook her head, too choked up to speak.

Justin understood. He dropped the tarp he was spreading over their supplies and went up onto the porch with her. He took her into his arms and rested his chin on her head. "We'll have another home where we're just as happy. It's waiting for us. We just have to find it."