Page 13 of Blizzard Babies
“I’ve got to get going, guys,” I say finally. “The longer I wait, the worse the storm is going to get.”
“Call Dr. Harjo,” Aaron calls out. “And give him the route you’re taking. Even if he can’t actually help you, he’ll know where you are and if you don’t check in by a certain time, he has access to emergency services because of the clinic.”
I’m not sure how a veterinarian could help, but Dr. Harjo has a good head on his shoulders, and they’re right that I need someone to have my back.
Just in case.
The nanny and my housekeeper will only be stressed, so it’s better to talk to someone with a little emotional detachment. He’s close to Sara, of course, but he’ll keep it together in this situation.
“All right, let me go,” I say. “I’ll keep you updated, but I’m not sure how much cell service I’ll have once I leave the house. I haven’t been able to reach the girls, so that tells me it’s ugly out there.”
“Stay safe, man.” Jake’s voice is quiet.
“I’ll do my best.”
“And bring the girls home,” Miikka adds.
That’s my only goal.
Chapter 7
Charli
This isn’t good.
We were in the middle of a blizzard, essentially in the middle of nowhere, and Laurel is in labor. She’s doing her best to pretend it’s no big deal, that it will probably be tomorrow before the baby comes, but we all know that isn’t true. Her water broke, and the contractions are less than eight minutes apart. Things progressed quickly, and we don’t even have a bottle of water between us.
“Women in the old days did this all the time,” Laurel says, leaning back in the seat, her face beaded in sweat.
I’m not going to point out the infant mortality rate in those days.
“I can walk to get help,” I say for the fourth or fifth time.
“We don’t know how far it is,” Sara protests. “I think it’s more dangerous for you to go than to stay.”
“Laurel needs help,” I say. “I don’t think we have a choice anymore.”
“This baby’s coming,” Laurel says after a moment. “I’m trying to stay calm and keep things from progressing, but they are. One way or another, she’s coming.”
“Which is why I have to go.” I calmly put on my gloves and hat.
“I don’t want you to get lost in this storm,” Laurel whispers softly. “Please don’t go out in this. You have to think about your baby too.”
“I’m thinking about all of us,” I say firmly. “I know approximately where we are. We were about half a mile from the next exit and we’re not that far from the access road. No more than a quarter of a mile.”
“But what direction?” Whitney asks.
“I don’t know,” I admit. “I’m hoping once I’m out there I’m going to see something familiar. Maybe even a house. We aren’t in the wilderness. We’re just a few miles from the shopping plaza where the spa was, and we’re in the Anchorage city limits. I can’t believe it’s that far to get help.”
No one says anything, and after a moment, I open the car door.
“Please be careful,” Laurel whispers.
“I will.” I close the door behind me and look around.
As I predicted, the heat of the engine melted some of the snow directly around us, so I have room to walk. The problem is that it’s practically snowing sideways. The wind is brutal, and though I’m not cold yet, it’s going to be extremely difficult to go in the direction I need to go.
There’s no way to get back up to the highway. Even if I could see, I’m not currently in good enough shape to make it back up a hill that steep in these conditions. The only option I have is to head in the direction I hope is the next exit. We aren’t in an overly hilly area, so even though it’s too much of an incline for me to climb in this weather, it won’t be too far to civilization.
