by T. S. Joyce
He was lower than low. His veins filled with shame and despair. He was hurting her, and even knowing the depth of her pain, he still wouldn’t take it back. She couldn’t move away without breaking him. Gripping the edge of the counter, he clenched his jaw until his teeth hurt. Monster.
If he was a stronger man, he would let her move on, make a life for herself and her child without him.
Putting away groceries was exactly the mindless activity he needed as his head swam in treacherous currents of uncertainty. Of what was right and wrong and fair. Never in his lifetime had he expected to be so affected by a woman, especially not after years with Erin. Lifelong bachelorhood on the homestead had been his destiny until he picked up a sickly looking waif at a gas station in Homer. Now, he was bewitched with thoughts of long nights in her arms, her healing touch mending his soul and restoring his faith in the decency of people again.
“Aanon!” Farrah screamed in such a blood-curdling shriek he froze. “Aanon!”
He dropped the canned goods he’d been stacking and sprinted for the door. Blood and adrenaline pumped his veins, encouraged by panic at the sound of her desperation. Running toward the sound of her screams, he burst around the cattle’s shelter to see Farrah pinned against the fence by that black-hearted, psychotic cow, 417. Bruno had latched onto the cow’s neck and Luna barked rapidly in her face, but the cow wouldn’t be deterred.
Relentlessly, she rammed Farrah, who struggled desperately to protect her stomach from the attack.
“Heyeyeyeyey!” he yelled, grabbing a length of pipe that leaned against the shelter in one smooth motion.
Scaling the fence, he hit the cow across the face with it to shock her. He shoved her head while she was stunned, and she backed off, bellowing. Never turning his back on the slobbering beast, he retreated slowly to the fence, but Farrah had already stumbled out of the enclosure.
Chest heaving, he rounded on Farrah, but she’d crumpled into the snow.
“Something’s wrong,” she said in horror. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and her eyes were wide and terrified.
“Oh, God,” he choked out, falling to his knees beside her.
He placed his hand on the curve of her stomach, and it was like touching a boulder. There was no give to her skin. Desperately he felt all around the swell, but it was seized in a relentless contraction. “Don’t move,” he said, running for the house. He snatched his keys from the counter and bolted for the truck. The engine turned on the first try, and he spun out in his rush to pull up next to Farrah.
Heaving, he pulled her body from the snow and set her in the seat, then clicked the seat belt into place.
Alarm pumped deeper and darker with every beat of his heart. “It’s going to be okay,” he chanted as they rode the snowy route to town. He rubbed her knee, as much to comfort himself as her, but she was doubled over with a grimace on her face.
“It’s too early,” she sobbed.
The dogs chased the truck, but he didn’t care if they followed him to town. There had been no time to tie them up and no time to throw them in the back. He didn’t care about anything but getting Farrah to Dr. Janson.
Not bothering with a parking spot, Aanon pulled the Chevy right in front of the medical clinic, sliding on the ice as he threw it into park. Around the back, he ran and threw open the passenger side door.
“Dr. Janson!” he yelled as he unbuckled and pulled her from the seat.
One of his nurses, Meryl, stuck her head out the door and gasped. “Bring her in, and I’ll page the doctor. He’s at the diner.”
He explained the attack as Meryl led them into a room and gestured to set her down on the bed. Pressing on her abdomen, she called, “How far along is she?”
“Uhhh, five months I think.”
“Ashley! Bring me a bag of magnesium sulfate.” Meryl dialed Dr. Janson from a cell phone. “Get over here now,” she said into the receiver. “It’s Farrah.” Hanging up, she asked, “Honey, are you allergic to anything?”
“No,” Farrah said weakly. “Not that I know of.”
Ashley bustled in and started preparing an IV while Meryl lifted Farrah’s shirt to expose her stomach. Deep red spotted her ribcage.
“What’s that?” he asked as he pointed with a shaking finger.
“She’s already starting to bruise.” Velcro ripped as she placed a band across her stomach.
Ashley taped the needle into her arm, then rushed off, only to return a moment later with a machine they hooked to wires that connected to the band on Farrah’s stomach.
“You’ll have to leave now,” Meryl said quietly.
“I can’t.” His throat threatened to close up, and he swallowed the lump of fear down. “Please, she’s—she’s mine.”
Meryl spun and grabbed his wrists. “Aanon, I get it son, but we need space to work. If we can’t get this labor stopped, her baby is in trouble, okay?”
“Everything will be okay,” Farrah whispered his own words back as a tear fled the corner of her eye.
He turned and left the room without a backward glance. He couldn’t see the pain on her face without it destroying part of him. That single tear of hers would be etched into his memory for the rest of his life. If he lived to be a hundred, he’d think on it every day. It was a tear of despair and acceptance for something completely out of their control.
Dr. Janson rushed past him as he stood stunned in the hallway. The clinic wasn’t large, and the entire staff was working on Farrah. He hadn’t a guess at how long he stood there, listening to any sound that might hint that she was okay, but barking brought him from his trance. In shock, he stumbled from the clinic to find Luna and Bruno slinking around the truck with their tails tucked. Onlookers were starting to gather. He gave a short whistle as he lowered the tailgate. Bruno hopped in but Luna wasn’t big enough, so he lifted her and tied her in. Bruno was trained and wouldn’t leave the bed, but the wolf pup was still young and inexperienced.
Ben made his way through the crowd and gripped his shoulder. “What happened?” he asked, gesturing to the Chevy that was hanging halfway in the street.
Overwhelmed, Aanon searched the faces of Cooper Landing, all expectantly staring back at him.
“Farrah’s hurt,” he muttered low.
Ignoring the chorus of questions, he hopped in the truck and pulled it into a parking spot, then retreated back to the warmth and safety of the clinic waiting room.
Audrey entered first and squeezed his hand as she passed. Then Ben and Old Eddie Cogburn. Burtlebey followed, and the stream of people was never ending, so Aanon escaped to the hallway by her room.
Dr. Janson’s shoes squeaked against the sanitary tile floors as he approached.
“How is she?” Aanon asked. Even to himself, his voice sounded frantic.
The doctor’s blue eyes held steel reserve and worry. “She’s gone into labor, and we’re trying everything we can to stop it. She’s too early for the baby to be viable if she delivers now.”
“What does that mean?”
“What I mean is the baby wouldn’t make it this early on. It wouldn’t have any lung function. If we can’t get the contractions stopped, we’ll have to send her to a hospital in Anchorage. They are more equipped to deal with this type of emergency. We’ve already called about a flight to get her out here.”
“Okay, how long would it take to get a plane out here to transport her?”
“Well, the runways are solid ice—”
“Doc,” he said, lowering his voice. “Be straight with me. How long?”
“A day, at least.”
He leaned back in the chair and looped his fingers behind his head like it would keep all of his shattering pieces together. “She doesn’t have that kind of time.”
“I’m afraid not. Our best bet is to get the labor stopped. If we can’t…” Dr. Janson shrugged and gave a somber shake of his head.
The unspoken words hung in the air, filling up every molecule of space the crowd in the waiting room
didn’t.
“We’ll do everything we can,” the doctor promised before leaving him.
Hours ticked by, and the crowd came and went. Eventually the nurse handed him a blanket and pillow, and he’d made his way back to the waiting room. The sun no longer shone through the picture windows, and instead streaks of deep purple night filtered in. Ben and Audrey were the only ones who remained, both quiet in the corner, and he took a seat beside them.
“Anything?” Ben asked.
Aanon shook his head. His eyes followed Mayva through the window as she pulled on the door. A stack of Styrofoam containers were balanced precariously in her arms, and when she saw him, her eyebrows shot up as if she was surprised. “Any news?”
“None,” he said dryly. Anger tugged at him as he thought about their encounter earlier in the day. Farrah didn’t need people who wished her ill keeping vigil.
“Look,” she said, sitting beside him. “I’m really sorry about how I’ve acted. I was jealous and petty, and you were never mine in the first place to warrant my actions. Farrah’s real nice, and I feel awful for what I’ve done. I hope she comes out of this all right, and I’ll give her my apologies myself.”
Silence stretched between them as he studied his shoes.
“I brought us dinner,” Mayva pressed on. “It’s just chicken fingers and french fries, but the diner closed early on account of the ice and Briney’s was the only place open this late. He said he’ll stop by to check on Farrah after he closes up. He’s real worried.”
“Thanks,” he said, taking the offered meal with as much of a smile as he could muster. He could respect a person who owned up to their mistakes, and as long as she was sincere, which she seemed to be, she was okay by him.
By the time Dr. Janson returned with an update, the others had gone home. Aanon sat watching a news report on the waiting room television with the volume off.
The smile on the doctor’s face settled something ugly inside of him. “She’s okay to go home. We stopped the labor hours ago but didn’t want to get your hopes up. As long as she takes it easy, she and the baby should be all right. Are you going to take responsibility for taking care of her after she checks out?”
“Of course.” He’d do anything to keep her safe and healthy. The smile that crept to his face at the relief was unavoidable.
“She has one cracked rib for sure, possibly two, but we can’t tell without x-rays. We don’t want to take them while she’s pregnant if we can avoid it. Now, I’ve taped her up, but there’s not really much more we can do for her other than manage the pain. It should be nice and healed up by the time she delivers, full-term if we’re lucky.” He sat in the chair next to Aanon and handed him a packet of information. “Here’s instructions on what to do if the contractions start up again. I think we’re out of the woods, but this is just a precaution. She’s to rest up for the next few weeks. I know she’s been helping you with your place, but she can’t do any kind of physical work until we’re sure she’s not going to have a repeat of today. If she has pain, use children’s Tylenol. Here’s a sample, but maybe pick up some more from the pharmacy tomorrow. No high dose stuff because of the baby, okay? She’s going to be bruised from head to toe over the next few days, and sore, too, so make sure she’s not overexerting herself. Pain means she’s doing too much.” Dr. Janson gripped his shoulder and shook it gently. “She protected her belly well, and you did good getting her here as fast as you did. It may have saved that little baby’s life. Keep her away from the cows, all right?”
Dr. Janson offered his hand to shake, and Aanon gripped it in relief.
Meryl wheeled Farrah into the waiting room just as the doctor took his leave. She looked pale and shaken, but a tremulous smile that curved her lips was all it took to lift the rest of the fear he’d been carrying.
She was all right.
Chapter Seventeen
Farrah had longed to see Aanon as the hours had passed in the clinic room. Dr. Janson had told her he didn’t want her excited until they knew for sure the labor had stopped, so she’d enjoyed red popsicles and watched reruns of I Love Lucy.
Even if they weren’t allowed to talk or be around each other, the circumstance had been extreme, and she had been borderline wild for his comfort. He had a way of making her feel like everything would work out when he was around.
He stood frozen, his jacket dangling from his hand when Meryl wheeled her in. As soon as she gifted him a smile, it mirrored on his face, beautiful, alluring, and satisfying.
He didn’t say anything, just wheeled her to the truck outside with Meryl spouting last minute instructions on preventing future pre-term labor. When she was buckled into the Chevy to the sound of the happily whining dogs tied in back, she turned to him to thank him for getting her to the doctor in time. The wrinkle of worry in his brow stopped the words, and she faced front again.
It had been so nice to ignore Erin’s ultimatum for a little while, but nothing had changed for them. She and Aanon were still trapped on separate sides of the pond.
The drive was slow as it seemed he didn’t want to jostle her in the least and, for that, she was grateful. Her body felt like she’d been shoved through an antique sawmill and had come out a different shape. The baby moved languidly beneath her cradling fingers. She leaned her head against the cold window. She was alive and her baby safe. It was her heart that was breaking.
When the truck came to a rocking stop in front of the big house, Aanon rushed to her door before she even had the chance to open it.
Her lip trembled, and she bit it as she prepared to say goodnight. What she would give to be wrapped in the strength of his arms just to wash the day away. Instead, she handed him a strip of ultrasound photos. “It’s a girl.” Her voice dipped low. “She’s a girl.”
“A girl,” he murmured, holding the photos like they were precious and studying each one. The smile on his face as he looked up from the pictures was the most stunning sight she’d ever seen. “You’re having a girl,” he said, louder.
A bubble of excitement took her, and she clenched her hands in front of her stomach to repress the squeal of joy that threatened to wrench from her throat. “Yes, Dr. Janson said he’s ninety-eight percent sure it’s a girl. She was moving the whole time, and her vitals are completely normal. Doctor said she wasn’t under any stress. It was just me they had to take care of.”
“A little girl,” he repeated, in a soft, reverent voice. “She’s already beautiful, just like her momma.”
If the moon weren’t full and illuminating the entire clearing, she could have done it by her inner glow from that compliment.
Heart hammering against her ribcage painfully, she struggled to draw breath and lowered her eyes. “I love you, Aanon.” She couldn’t help the words any more than she could help the weather. The two were simply beyond her control. Scared he’d disappear, she stared at the snow dusted hem of his jeans.
He placed a finger under her chin, slow and gentle, lifting until her eyes met his. “I love you, too.”
“What a mess we’ve found ourselves in, huh?” She laughed, but a pair of warm tears streaked down her cheeks.
The pad of his thumb brushed them away, and he leaned in until his lips pressed hers. “Messy love is the best kind.”
“Can I just…spend time with you tonight? I know tomorrow it’ll change, and we’ll have to ignore each other again, but I just want one night where this doesn’t hurt.”
“It won’t change tomorrow. I’m going to figure something out. Tonight, I want you sleeping in my bed, beside me. I won’t be able to sleep unless I know you’re okay and, dammit, I miss the feel of you near me.”
She waited for the rush of nerves to settle. “Okay.”
He led her by the hand and helped her up the porch steps before opening the door. The dogs rushed by her legs, and she laughed as Luna and Bruno piled onto a giant dog bed near the stove.
The big house opened to a living room off the kitchen, and between the two sat
the antique stove. Aanon fed logs into it and started a fire as she brushed her fingertips over the worn paperbacks that decorated the bookshelf near the front window. It seemed Aanon liked adventure novels.
“I’m not very sleepy,” she admitted.
“Good, I’m starving. Mayva brought dinner but I couldn’t do more than pick at it, and Ben ended up eating the rest.”
“Mayva was there?”
“Yeah, along with half the danged town. All those people shoved into the waiting room.” He shook his head and closed the stove door. “It was downright suffocating. Mayva’s real sorry for how she treated you, by the way.”
“So she doesn’t think I’m a skank anymore?”
“I think you’ve been at least downgraded to floozy.”
“Ha! Smart-ass. I’m hungry, too.”
“Griddle cakes?”
“Oooh, that sounds divine. Do you have maple syrup?”
“Pshhh, you are talking to a maple syrup connoisseur. I have three different flavors.”
“There’s different flavors?”
“Oh, you better believe it. Sit on down in that chair closest to the heat, and I’ll cook.”
“Aanon?” she said quietly as he pulled ingredients. “Thank you for getting me to Dr. Janson like you did.”
The color of his eyes was shielded, his expression almost shy as he gripped a bowl he’d pulled from a cabinet. “Doc said you did well protecting the baby when 417 was after you. We make a good team,” he said with the ghost of a smile.
“We do.”
If griddle cakes were served in heaven, they’d use Aanon’s recipe. Slathered in butter and syrup, every mouthful burst with rich flavor.
“My mom used to make these for me and Dad on Saturday mornings,” Aanon said as he set a glass of milk in front of her and took the seat across the table.
“What happened to your mom?”
“She got sick when I was really young. Most of my life it was just me and my dad.”