Breeding Clinic (Heatverse)

Chapter 24

Chapter Twenty-Four

GAbrIEL

Liam writes an email to the owner of the ski chalet. He explains the situation while Matthew goes through the kitchen to make sure we’re okay for the next few days. We have no idea how long it will take all that snow to melt.

“The meals might be weird but I can make this work for three or four days,” he says. “I’m glad we bought extra groceries.”

“Are there any cookies left?” Kat asks, asking the important questions as she joins him in the kitchen.

Matthew shoves the cookie tin inside a cabinet and closes it. “I don’t see them. Why don’t I make you some eggs?”

She leans against the island counter and rubs her belly with a wince.

“Are you okay?” I ask her.

“I’m fine.” She waves me off. “The doctor said they’re Braxton Hicks contractions. They go away after a bit if I rest or drink something or change position.”

“I’ll get you some water,” Matthew says, pulling the filtered water pitcher from the fridge. He grabs breakfast supplies too and lays everything out for cooking. Then he pours a glass for her.

Sliding off my stool, I go behind her and reach around her heavy belly. I cradle it with my hands and lift. Take some of its weight off her back while she drinks.

“Oh my God,” Kat moans, leaning back into me. She sets her half-drained glass down and places her hands over mine. “That feels so good. Maybe we can just walk around like this for the next three weeks.”

“Two and a half,” I correct her.

She picks up her glass again to drink the rest. “I can’t wait to get this baby out of me.”

Matthew pulls a pot off the pot rack and spreads vegetables on the cutting board. “I’ll have breakfast ready in half an hour. Why don’t you go take a hot bath?”

“Good idea,” I agree on her behalf. She’s already showered, but the hot bath will help her relax so the false labor pains go away. “I’ll fill the tub. Come on.”

Kat side-eyes me while we head to the bedroom. “You just want to stare at my boobs.”

“Can you blame me? They’re spectacular.” I run the bath until it’s hot and add some scented Epsom salts for her.

Once it’s filled, Kat twists her hair up in a clip and I help her in. Her balance is iffy now that she’s nearly due. I sit with her while she’s soaking, my hand on her knee, while I pull up the local weather app on my phone.

It turns out the reason why we didn’t think the storm would be so bad is because we were using the national app that came with our phones. Their prediction didn’t take the elevation and wind into account. A bit of searching shows me there’s a regional weather company that the residents use. It’s supposed to snow off and on until this afternoon and then the sun will come out. Hopefully that’ll start melting it enough for us to leave soon.

I tell Kat what I’ve read and she hums thoughtfully. “Hopefully the roads will be cleared tomorrow. The plow has to come up here at some point, right?”

“Yeah.”

Liam joins us, shoving his phone into his back pocket. “I spoke with the owner. The people who were supposed to come after us had their flight canceled because of the storm. We’re fine to stay until it’s safe to leave. His plow guy will come dig us out once it stops snowing.”

“Breakfast is almost done!” Matthew shouts from the kitchen. “Shit. Dammit. Liam, can you help me? The bacon’s burning and I need to keep whisking.”

Liam rushes out to help. The smell of bacon makes my stomach twist with hunger. After last night, I’ve earned it. I got a week’s worth of cardio in one evening thanks to Matthew’s crazy sex pills.

“Come on,” I tell Kat, popping the drain up and reaching to help her out. Once she’s standing, I wrap her in a fluffy towel and steady her while she steps out of the tub. “Let’s stretch your perineum real quick while you’re relaxed from the bath.”

Kat chuckles darkly and clutches the ends of her towel more tightly. “Oh, no no no. I had enough stretching last night, thanks.”

I grab her bottle of almond oil and pour some into my hand, slicking them together and warming it with friction. “We’ve skipped it all week except for last night. You don’t want to tear, right? We’ll be quick. And then you can eat and we’ll lie down and watch a movie.”

“Fine. Only a bit, though. My pelvis is sore from last night.” She gives in and sits at the bathroom vanity, propping one leg up for me .

Kneeling at her feet, I massage her with light strokes. Work the oil into her skin and curls, checking that she hasn’t torn. We were as gentle as we could be with her last night, as gentle as one can be while shoving three dicks into one vagina. She still sucks in a breath when I start to stretch her walls.

I add more oil, massaging it into her until she relaxes. Then I work my thumbs inside, gently rubbing. Working around clockwise, loosening her pelvic muscles like the obstetrician’s diagrams instructed. Adding a third finger and pulling down toward the ground, getting the skin used to being stretched.

“How is that?” I ask her, checking in.

“Good. It’s better now.”

I work the oil in deeper still, twisting my hand to start on her front wall. My middle finger brushes against her cervix. It’s soft and squishy. Thin, and slightly open. I stop, my back stiffening. It’s not… I check her again to make sure I’m not wrong.

She’s four centimeters dilated. A week ago, her cervix was closed.

I don’t want to say anything. Don’t want to panic her or the others. Some women are dilated for days, even weeks. It doesn’t mean she’s in labor. Still, it worries me. But she’s not due for two almost three more weeks. Most first-time mothers go over rather than under. It’s second babies that arrive earlier than planned. But what if her contractions aren’t false labor?

I can’t say anything until I’m sure.

“Did the contractions go away?” I ask, careful to keep my voice sounding normal.

“It’s better after the bath, thanks.”

That’s not a yes. But I can’t pry and arouse suspicion. The last thing I need is everyone getting anxious and panicking. The road will be clear tomorrow. Some women have early labor for days before going into active labor. It’s probably fine.

Pulling my hand free, I wipe the excess oil off her and my hand with the edge of her towel and stand. I bend down and kiss her gently. “All done.”

She gives me a sunny smile and puts her comfy night clothes back on. By the time we return to the kitchen, Matthew has everything plated. We eat, devouring his bacon and eggs. I don’t understand how he gets his omelets so fluffy.

“What now?” Kat asks, looking out the kitchen windows. A light snow falls onto the already tall drifts of snow that cling to the glass.

She needs to stay off her feet. Gravity and movement will only speed up early labor. “Movie marathon?”

Her eyes light up and she claps her hands. “Yes! I know it’s past Christmas now but I want to watch all the sappy Hallmark Christmas movies I didn’t see yet.”

Liam kisses the top of her head and stacks our dirty plates together. “You got it, kitten.”

We cuddle up on the couch and I queue up an entire day’s worth of formulaic romance movies for her. Liam kicks Matthew out of the kitchen to do the dishes and he joins us on the couch. I lay snuggled up with her with my hand on the belly, pretending I’m feeling for kicks when really, if she’s having contractions, I won’t miss them.

We’re twelve minutes into the first movie when I notice it. A tightening of her abdomen. Her belly lifts and firms underneath my hand.

I use my bent knee to hide my actions as I discreetly set the stopwatch on my phone. Not that Kat is paying attention to me. She’s currently crying over the heroine’s troubled bakery business. The one she started after her parents were killed in an accident. The love interest is the EMT who tried to save them, but she doesn’t see that yet. She thinks he’s addicted to her Christmas wreath shaped donuts. But he doesn’t even eat them. He’s diabetic so he gives them to his partner. He likes the heroine, but he’s worried that she could never like him because of what happened… and now his EMT partner thinks he has a crush on her because of the stupid donuts. It turns into a three-way love triangle full of idiots who won’t talk to one another.

When the stopwatch rolls past the five-minute mark, I relax a bit. Irregular, far apart contractions are the body’s way of preparing itself for birth. Satisfied that it’s nothing and grateful that I didn’t alarm anyone yet, I kiss Kat’s tear-streaked cheek and slide off the couch.

“I’m gonna get a workout in,” I tell them, heading to the basement. I saw jump ropes in a kid’s toy box down there and I’m itching to get in a real workout. It’s been days of good food, treats, and family obligations with no real exercise other than a few short hikes and the one day some of us went skiing.

Once I’m covered in a sheen of sweat, I head upstairs to shower and change before lunch.

A different movie plays in the background now. Matthew’s in the kitchen working on lunch. Liam and Kat are making out on the couch. He has one hand on her breast, massaging it gently through her shirt, and I can’t tell where his other one is with the blanket in the way.

Shit.

Until I am absolutely certain that she’s not in early labor, she needs to stay on pelvic rest. But how the fuck do I get them to stop fooling around with her without alarming them?

Matthew opens a cupboard and pulls out the bread. An idea pops into my head. While he’s busy making sandwiches with breakfast’s leftover bacon and some turkey we bought for the kids, I pull the cookie tin down and pop off its metal lid.

“Oh! There’s a few cookies left. Want one, Kat?” I call out.

Kat pulls away from Liam, her face lighting up. “Really? Help me off the couch, Liam.”

Matthew gives me an expression that says he’s not happy that I’m feeding her sweets before she’s eating something nutritious. He takes her diet seriously. Kat waddles into the kitchen and takes the cookie from my hand, smiling at me in return as she bites the yellow star off the tree. Liam drops his head onto the couch and groans, as if being cockblocked physically pains him.

Big baby. He’ll get over it.

“Don’t eat too many before lunch,” I tell her, kissing her forehead.

“It’s Christmas and I’m pregnant,” she says, defending her right to eat the rest of the cookies in the tin. There aren’t many left. Only four, including the one in her hand. And I’m not wrestling a cookie out of a pregnant woman’s hand. That’s the surest way to lose a finger.

“Lunch is almost done,” Matthew reminds us.

I help him plate everything. We eat and clean up, then go back to our movie marathon. By the third movie, my certainty that it’s false labor is waning. Her contractions are more regular. I need to check Kat again. There’ll be no hiding this for much longer if my concerns are real.

After washing my hands and fetching her oil, I convince her to let me massage her again. She’s used to our fussing. We’ve all gotten a bit over the top with coddling her since she hit the last month and her belly really popped.

With my oil slicked hand, I massage her and check her cervix. Six centimeters. Her cervix is soft and thinning. She’s progressing. It’s only been five hours.

Dread pools in my belly. She’ll notice soon. It’s a miracle she hasn’t figured it out sooner. Everything is going to get very real, very fast. And we’re trapped up here, snowed in on a mountain, with the nearest hospital miles away. A strange, unfamiliar hospital with doctors we haven’t met rather than the nice birthing center full of midwives that’s half a mile from my hospital. The one with the second best NICU in the state.

Liam’s gaze drifts from the movie to us. He squeezes his arm around her shoulder. “Do you need help with your massage, kitten?” he asks, his voice husky.

“No,” I answer for her.

He gives me a confused expression.

I clear my throat and tug the hem of her night shirt down her thighs. “She’s all done.” I glance at Liam, then make a subtle nod toward the kitchen. His brow creases with a frown, but he makes an excuse to leave the couch.

On my way past Matthew’s spot on the oversized sofa, I squeeze his shoulder and jerk my head toward the kitchen.

They meet me there. I run the faucet for noise control in case she can hear us over her movie.

“What’s wrong?” Liam whispers.

There’s no gentle way to ease them into the situation. “Kat’s in the early stages of labor.”

Liam’s face pales, and Matthew’s eyes get big. “What?” Liam says, a little too loud.

I make a face and mouth for him to lower his voice. She doesn’t realize it yet, and there’s no sense in panicking her before we’ve made a plan for how to deal with it.

“We still have some time, but it’s happening,” I tell them.

“What? How? It’s too early,” Matthew says.

I shrug. “Babies arrive when they want to. Ours wants to be early. I’ve been reading my old textbooks in case this happens. I never thought it would, but… well, here we are.”

“Fuck,” Liam curses. “The snow’s still piled high. It’s over halfway up the door. And the road…”

“What are we gonna do?” Matthew asks, looking to me for the plan. Because Liam is the alpha, but I’m the medical professional. In this awful scenario, I’m the one in charge .

“Boil as much water as you can and let it cool while covered,” I instruct. “We need to clean towels and blankets. Wash them in hot water with a cup of vinegar, set an extra rinse, and dry them on the hottest setting. I saw a first aid kit in the bathroom but it probably won’t be very helpful.”

Liam’s face hardens with determination. “I’m gonna clear the snow.”

It’s hours worth of shoveling. Even if he clears the path to the car, he still won’t be able to make it out of the driveway. Not unless he stumbles across a plow attachment and figures out how to hook it up to his truck. But if it keeps him busy so he doesn’t panic, then that’s what we need. We all have our roles to play now.

“Are you guys making popcorn?” Kat yells from the living room.

Matthew looks at me for direction.

I nod. We need to keep her busy and calm.

“Yeah!” he yells back, going to the cabinet to grab the tinfoil stovetop popcorn the kids didn’t eat. Matthew puts the popcorn on the stove, then takes down all of the pots he can find. He fills all of them with the filtered water from the fridge and turns on all four burners.

Liam leaves to change into his winter gear, pulling his boots on and zipping up his parka. He slips his hands into ski gloves.

“Where are you going?” Kat asks from the sofa.

He leans over the back and kisses her upside down. “I’m going to get a jump start on clearing the snow for tomorrow.”

“Okay.” She watches him leave, then glances at us. Matthew and I do our best to appear nonchalant and busy. The first popcorn kernel pops, startling the both of us. Once it’s done popping, Matthew dumps the hot kernels into a large bowl and brings it to her along with a drink.

I settle next to her and pull her feet into my lap for a foot rub. We need her as calm as possible. An hour later, she drifts asleep only to be jolted awake a few minutes after with a grimace. My heart knocks against my ribs.

“Everything okay?” I ask her.

“I’ve gotta pee.” She scrambles off the couch. Or tries to. I grasp her hands and pull her off the couch.

“Oh no,” she says, going still. Her face flushes pink. Wetness drips down her thighs, splattering onto the rug and making a dark spot. “Wait, I still have to pee.”

Shit. Her water broke. Swallowing, I cup her elbow and walk her to our bathroom.

“That’s embarrassing,” she grumbles.

“How do you feel?” I ask her.

She gives me an odd look when I help her onto the toilet and stay hovering. “Why does everyone keep asking me that today?”

There’s no easy way to rip off this bandage. “Are you still having contractions?”

She thinks about it while she pees. “Off and on. They’ve gotten worse since I’m closer to the end. I thought resting would help, but maybe I need to walk around. I wish they’d go away.”

“Well… they will. Sooner rather than later.” I can’t keep stalling. “You’re in labor.”

She blinks at me, then furrows her brow. “What? It’s too early. And I think I’d know if I were in labor. Doesn’t it hurt like hell?”

I shrug. “It’s different for everyone. Pushing will hurt. But early labor isn’t always that bad. We need to start timing your contractions.”

I see the moment reality sets in for her and she realizes exactly what position we’re in. “I can’t be. It’s too early. The birthing center… They said first-time moms usually go over their due date.”

It’s a helpless thing to stand here with no answers that will satisfy her. “Babies come when they come.”

“I can’t have the baby here,” she argues, getting shrill. “Not now. Not like this. I don’t know any of the doctors at the hospital here. If we can even get to a hospital. Oh, God.”

“If you’re done going to the bathroom, let’s get you to bed.”

“No.” Her face creases with worry. “I want to go back to the couch.”

She needs time to accept this is real and not going away. Kat cleans herself up and I walk her back to the living room. Matthew goes by with a mountain of sheets and towels nearly blocking his view. I snag one for her to lie on and lower her down onto the couch into her impromptu nest.

“Where’s Liam? Does he know?” she asks.

“He’s digging the truck out.”

She whines and pulls the blankets closer, shoving them around her and getting comfortable. “That’s not going to help if the roads are undrivable.” She winces, and I cradle her belly. It’s tight, raised, and firm with a contraction.

There’s no need to be discreet anymore. I set the stopwatch and time her contraction while we both pretend to watch the latest holiday movie. Her contraction lasts less than a minute. I clear the time and reset it. It’s five minutes and forty seconds until the next one. The movie distracts her while I keep time.

The side door off the kitchen opens and Liam bursts inside, stomping to shake the snow off his boots. “It’s stopped snowing, but I don’t see any sign of the plow yet. It might be a while before they get this far up the mountain. But I got the truck out.”

“Be right back,” I tell Kat.

Liam watches me approach him with trepidation. He bows his head so he can hear me while I tell him everything in a low, calm voice.

“Her water broke,” I say.

“Does that mean it’ll be soon?” he asks, his expression grim.

“Hard to say. That depends on her and how quickly she progresses. But her contractions aren’t too close together, so that’s good. Could be tonight or early tomorrow.”

Liam lets out a low growl and runs his fingers through his hair. “I don’t like this. She should be in a hospital.”

“I don’t like it either, but it’s not like we have much choice.”

“I called for an ambulance,” Liam says. “They said there’s no way up the mountain until it’s plowed. They called the city to have a plow sent from the highway department but I don’t know when they’ll get here. They said they’ll come as quickly as they can.”

The news is disappointing, but not unexpected. Ambulances are big and heavy, but there’s not much that any vehicle can do against two feet of snow. “What about a helicopter?”

His face pales. “You think it’s that dire?”

I shrug. “It doesn’t hurt to ask.”

Liam nods, grateful to have a task again. “I’ll call them again.”

“Out of earshot,” I order. We don’t need Kat getting more alarmed than she already is.

Liam shrugs out of his coat and boots and goes over to Kat, kissing her in greeting. He tells her he’s going to take a hot shower to warm up.

What else? I think, looking around. If there’s no way out, then we need to be prepared to deliver here. I raid the cabinets to see what we have. A bottle of vodka can help with disinfection. We can use hot towels from the dryer to keep the baby warm. Matthew boiled water and it’s cooling now. We have sanitized towels and blankets to clean her. But there are a few more things we’ll need. I rummage through drawers to search for anything useful and start making a pile. Trash bags, kitchen twine, and newspaper.

I raid the first aid kit next. There are bandage scissors and a bottle of rubbing alcohol. Sterile gauze and an oral syringe I can use to clean the baby’s airway since we don’t have a bulb syringe. It’s not enough but it’ll have to be.

I bundle everything onto the kitchen table and clean the scissors. Then I bring Kat a glass of water and remind her to stay hydrated.

When Liam returns, his grim expression tells me there’s no helicopter coming. Not with the sun setting outside and the thick trees and deep snow. There’s no good place for them to land. It was a longshot to begin with.

Matthew comes upstairs from the basement where the laundry machines are. “Any update?”

It’s been an hour or two. Time to check her again. I wash up at the kitchen sink, scrubbing well, then go to Kat.

I kneel at her feet. “I need to check you, meu docinho .” I rub her massage oil over my hands and feel inside. Seven centimeters and thinner. She’ll be in active labor soon. My hand comes away streaked with pink. The towel under her has a damp spot. She’s still leaking fluid. I wipe my hand clean and fold the towel over itself before she can notice.

“Good job,” I tell her.

Liam’s phone rings and we all startle. I kiss her knee and follow him and Matthew outside.

Fuck, it’s cold. I tuck my arms into my armpits and wait impatiently while he talks to whoever called him.

“I see. Thank you. Thank you so much. No, it’s fine. I’ll meet you there and guide them. ”

Meet them? How the hell is Liam going to meet them?

He hangs up and puts his phone away. “They got a plow and he’s started working on the road, but the GPS is giving them weird directions. They don’t see where the turnoff is for this private road.”

We got lost when we first arrived too. The sign is small and easy to miss. If it’s buried under a snow laden branch in the dark, they’ll never find it.

“I’m going to meet them out there and lead them up to the house,” Liam says.

“That’s dangerous,” Matthew says. “It’s getting dark. It’ll be pitch black soon, and you don’t know the roads that well. Your truck will never make it, even with chains on the tires.”

But Liam won’t be swayed. “It’s our best shot and you both know it. We need to do something. Now.”

“How?” I ask.

He is full of determination when he says, “I’m taking the snowmobile.”