Shelter Me Home (16 page)

The snow had stopped, and though Cooper Landing was doused in white powder, the roads would be drivable for a vehicle made for the terrain. It took two tries to turn over the engine, but when the truck roared to life, he hit the gas and aimed his escape for town. A well-worn dirt road sat under two feet of snow, but no one had driven it, and he couldn’t tell where the lane began and the forest ended. Good thing he knew his way to The Landing so well he could drive it with his eyes closed.

The street in front of the general store was a bustle of activity. It seemed he wasn’t the only one who’d decided to wander into town while the weather was holding. Fumbling for a list in his pocket, he pulled into a parking space. Mr. Clement was talking to Walter Hodge and a couple other old timers in front of the general store, and he waved a greeting as he hustled through the doors. Scouring a row of fruits and vegetables, he pulled a bag and started to fill it.

Maybe he could pick up some construction jobs in Anchorage or maybe get hired onto a snowplow crew. If he went to a bigger city, with more means, he could probably get placed somewhere within the week. Traveling would be tough, but worth it if he could keep his distance from Farrah. He wanted to pull his freakin’ hair out at the thought. Nothing was worth staying away from her.

Except Dodge.

This was a situation he wouldn’t be able to think himself out of. He was utterly stuck in this tar pit Erin had trapped him in. Hating the feeling of complete helplessness, he gripped the bar of the shopping cart and took a deep breath.

“Hey Aanon,” Mayva said from behind him.

He had to bite his tongue against the urge to tell her to get lost. His patience with her had disappeared the night he’d taken her home from the bar.

“Hi,” he said, pushing forward toward the bread aisle.

Mayva wasn’t good at receiving hints. She followed, swinging the little red shopping basket in her hand. “I’m just so glad the weather let up enough to get out into some fresh air. I thought that storm would never let up.”

He grunted a response and pulled a loaf of whole wheat into the cart.

“So anyway, I was thinking since this is the last time you’ll probably be in town for a while, and since the snow has let up, maybe we could grab a bite to eat at the diner and catch up.”

He turned and cocked his head. She was being especially cordial and bold today. What gave? “It was you, wasn’t it?”

“Me? I don’t understand what you mean.”

“You called Erin the night I told you I was seeing someone.”

“No I didn’t!” Her mouth set in an unhappy frown. “I called her the next morning. You should be thanking me, Aanon Falk. You don’t need to be tethering yourself to that trash, Farrah Fennel, anyhow.”

“Don’t call her that. Farrah has more class in her pinky than you and Erin combined. She’d never throw anyone under the bus like you two have. Now back off and let me shop in peace.” She was starting to give him a serious headache.

“Erin has the right to know who you’re fooling around with. You have a family together,” she called as he headed for the opposite side of the small store.

Family? Mayva and Erin had a really jaded view of family. Family didn’t hold each other hostage or use children as bargaining chips. Family didn’t thrive on its members’ unhappiness. No, Erin wasn’t his family. Only Dodge was. She’d lost the right to control his romantic life when she left him. And oh, she spun a pretty story, telling everyone about how he was the one to ruin her life. She’d been the one to leave. Him taking the homestead meant he’d never make the kind of money that would keep her happy. She’d marched out the door spouting awful, vengeful things the day his father’s will had been read.

Erin wasn’t the type of woman to stick around when things got tough.

His only option to fight back would be to sell the homestead and all of the land he owned. The livestock would have to be sold at auction along with all of his farming equipment, four-wheelers, and snowmobiles. Just the thought of selling the land that had been in his family for generations made him sick to his stomach. It would be something he’d always regret losing. But what other option did he have? If he was going to afford a decent lawyer to get him a shot at joint custody of Dodge, he’d need a lot of money up front.

But then Dodge wouldn’t have the land passed to him when he got older.

The homestead or Dodge.

Either way, Aanon would lose something vital.

For Farrah, the worst part of it all was that Aanon didn’t dislike her. This wasn’t a mutual break where they’d decided they were better friends or separated bitterly. The worst was that Farrah cared deeply for him and saw the same affection in his tortured gaze. The hardest part was being separated unwillingly by someone else’s hand.

As if she sensed Farrah’s melancholy mood, Luna whined and jumped up to lick her fingertips. Aanon had left for town a couple of hours earlier, and Bruno trotted behind them loyally. He wasn’t an overly affectionate dog, even with Aanon, but he seemed to like her fine when his owner wasn’t around. Luna, on the other hand, stuck to her like moss on a log no matter who was present.

“Come on, pups,” she said as she pulled their dog bowls from atop Bruno’s house. They were filled with snow from last night, so she dumped them out and knocked them on her leg. “Let’s eat in the barn today, shall we? It’s cold as sin out here.”

The rattle of dog food sounded against the plastic bowls as she poured them each two scoops, and she folded into an old chair in the corner while the dogs inhaled their dinner. Dark fell earlier now, and long shadows stretched from the open door across the dirt floor. Touching the farthest reaching shadow with the toe of her boot, she sighed. She missed everything about him, and he lived fifty yards away. He may as well lived across the ocean.

Maybe she should find a new place to stay. This wasn’t something that would ease with time. She cared about him. No, it was more than that. Their connection was bottomless, and time wouldn’t mend their forced separation, knowing she’d never share a stolen kiss or his affectionate touch ever again.

Tires crunched from a distance, and she stood and stretched her back. The seed had taken root in her mind. Maybe her moving on was what he wanted, too, but he was just waiting for her to approach the subject.

Leaving the dogs to their meal, she squinted against the ray of sun that poked through the clouds and doused the homestead. Aanon arranged grocery bags on his arms and jumped slightly when he turned and she was there.

“Can I talk to you?” she asked.

“I should’ve asked if you needed anything from the store.”

“No, not about that. Um, do you think I should find somewhere else to stay?” Every feature on his masculine face froze, so she continued. “You could maybe find a better tenant, and if I left, it wouldn’t feel so heavy around here anymore. I just want to make this as easy as possible. On both of us.”

“Please don’t go,” he pleaded. “I can stand the heaviness if it means I get to see you.” His eyes cast to the toe of her boots, and he frowned before hopping the porch stairs and disappearing inside.

Her heart thrummed a painful rhythm, and she choked on a helpless sound when the door closed behind him. He’d torture them both.

****

Aanon pressed his back against the door and dropped the grocery bags. She wanted to leave. He hadn’t thought of it before she suggested it, but just the vision of his homestead, empty of her presence, sent suffocating sadness, black and roiling, through him.

No. There had to be another solution. Hell, he’d pine for her for the rest of his natural born life from ten tortuous feet away if only she’d stay. What a selfish creature he’d become.

The taste of happiness she’d given him was too sweet, too tempting, and now he was powerless to let it go. His chest burned as if some great weight sat upon it. He squatted down and ran his hands through his hair over and over until he could draw painful breath.

He’d made a colossal mistake with Farrah. He’d begun to imagine a future with her. One where she was his helpmate on the homestead until they were old and gray. He’d imagined holding her child and raising it as his own, imagined her as a mother. But the biggest mistake he’d ever made was falling in love with her.

He’d been careless to think only Dodge and the homestead made up his dreams. Farrah was the final tier. Standing, he hoisted the supplies into the kitchen and set them on the counter. Out the window, Farrah walked slowly away. He couldn’t see if she was crying, but she seemed to be wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

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.”