Chapter 3
ANNIE DONALDSON pushed the squeaky-wheeled grocery cart through the quaint market. Cody, for once, stayed close by. A wave of dizziness washed over her and the black spots swimming in front of her eyes had her bracing against the cart, despite her massive belly. After a few deep breaths, she straightened. She needed to get the shopping done so she could get back to the cottage Sean had rented for them in this curious town. If she stopped to think about it, she’d be a little scared. The people here were…odd, in that dueling banjos sort of way. Close-mouthed, shuttered expressions, distrust if not out-right hostility whenever she and Cody encountered them. Still, Sean insisted they were safe here.
But Sean had to be gone for a couple of days and Cody was a growing boy. She’d run out of milk, cereal, bread, and peanut butter. As long as she had those and fish sticks, her son was happy. So she’d walked to the store on the main street. Only it wasn’t called Main Street, it was named Greenbrier Boulevard. The lettering on the door of the market boasted that Cadogan’s had been in business since 1798.
When they’d pushed through that door, the bell above it jangled. No automatic sliding doors here. Nope. Only a heavy wooden and glass monstrosity that took all her strength to get it open and held so Cody could scoot in under her arms.
The black spots cleared so she straightened. She’d just grab a few things to keep Cody happy until Sean got back. Once he was with her, everything would be okay. She wouldn’t feel like a freak out of her depth. Heck, she was a small-town girl. She should be able to handle this, but these people? They just seemed so very wary of strangers.
Cody dropped a large jar of peanut butter in the cart and darted off looking for bread. Maybe she could just stand here and let him range through the store grabbing what they needed. Then she wondered if the store would let her borrow the cart to get her groceries home. At the moment, the idea of carrying even one sack the three blocks to their cottage was more than she could contemplate.
The first twinge came as a surprise. The skin stretching tight across her pregnant belly rippled and a pain throbbed low in her back. Cody stood about three feet away, staring wide-eyed and looking horrified. This couldn’t be happening. She wasn’t due for another couple of weeks. Concentrating, she pushed the cart forward.
“Milk, Cody. Get milk, baby. We need to go.”
“Momma?” Cody placed a gentle hand on her tummy. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, baby. Just…” A second pain tore through her and it was all she could do to remain standing. She swore she heard a pop and then liquid gushed down her thighs. Before she could move, an older man appeared in her peripheral vision.
“Easy, honey. You just take it easy now.” He glanced over his shoulder and motioned to a teenage boy. “Silas, go fetch Granny Mae. Hurry, son.”
A woman stepped up behind Cody and eased him back. “How far along are you, sweetie?”
Fighting the urge to double over, Annie sucked in air then panted out, “Not time. Close, but not yet.”
“Where’s your man?”
“Don’t bother her with questions, Josiah Cadogan. Pick that little girl up and let’s get her settled over to the Inn,” the woman chastised.
“I want to go home,” Annie protested. “Sean. I want to go home and I want Sean.”
Josiah glanced over at his wife. “Flossie, we’d best wait ’til Granny Mae gets here.”
More voices murmured in the background and when the third contraction hit, Annie had no choice but to fold over and sink to her knees. Cody shrieked, terrified, and he fought Flossie as she held him back. God, she had to get a grip. She was stronger than this. Sean expected her to protect herself and Cody and the baby when he was gone. She had to get up. She had to get home. Hide. Keep them safe until Sean got back. A sob burbled out and she didn’t feel very brave at all. She closed her eyes and leaned against the shelf beside her, dislodging the cans stacked there.
Soft hands smoothed hair off her face before cupping her belly. “We need to find her Wolf, Josiah.”
Startled, Annie opened her eyes and stared at the ancient woman now kneeling with her. “What did you say?”
“Just breathe, sugar bug. I’m Granny Mae. I’ve birthed every baby in this county for the last seventy-five years. I’ll get this one into the world just fine, but it shore would help if we had yore Wolf here with ya.” Her voice was laced with heavy censor.
“Sean. He’d be here, but I’m early. The baby’s early. She can’t come yet.”
“Babies come when they come, sugar bug. Where’d that Wolf of yours get off to?”
Annie paled even more, if that was possible. She could physically feel the color drain from her face. “You keep saying that.”
“Sayin’ what? Callin’ yore man a Wolf? It’s what he is.” Granny Mae laughed—a great guffaw straight from her belly. “Hellfire, sugar bug, jus’ about every dang male in this county is a Wolf.” Her palms smoothed circles across Annie’s tummy. “Yup. This little girl is surely thinkin’ about comin’ into the world. Y’all rented the ol’ Prescott place, yeah?”
Another contraction hit Annie so it was Cody who answered the old woman. “It’s a…Momma calls it a cottage. Over on Whippoorwill Street.”
“Yup. That’s the place. You know how to call yore daddy, little man?”
Cody nodded, his eyes still the size of half dollars. “It’s in Momma’s phone. In her purse.”
Mr. Cadogan handed the purse to Cody and he dug through the contents until he found the phone. He pushed the buttons and waited. The call rolled over to voice mail and Cody couldn’t stop the whimper when he realized Sean wasn’t answering.
“D-daddy? You n-need to come home. Right now. Momma’s…sick.” The phone beeped in his ear. He’d taken too long to spit out his message.
SEAN WATCHED the two men from the dim environs of the restaurant. They occupied an umbrella-covered table on the patio. The men were low-level grunts but with luck, they’d lead him to his ultimate quarry. John Smith. As much as Sean wanted to shift and rip out the bastard’s throat once he was caught, he would be patient. The man he’d been waiting for dropped into the chair next to him.
“Harjo.” Colonel Joshua Harjo, former commander of the 69 th . He’d stuck with the Wolves even though he was human. His wife, Amy, was the best friend of Jacey Connor, another Wolf mate.
“Sean.”
“I don’t believe he’s here, but if he is, those two will lead us to him.” Sean shifted in his seat, hair rising on the back of his neck and his arms. With a studied casualness, he surveyed the room. No one pricked his senses.
“Sean? What’s wrong?”
Turning to watch his prey through the window, he lifted a negligent shoulder. “Nothin’.”
A waitress appeared—cute, perky, and far too eager to flirt with them. They ordered burgers. Something quick to fix and fast to eat should the marks get up to leave. The girl hovered and Sean bit back a snarl. Restless energy roiled inside him and he fought the urge to get up and pace. Something was wrong but he couldn’t figure out what. Harjo’s phone dinged and his friend read a text message, the Indian’s brow furrowing.
“Sean? Where’s your phone?”
“My phone? In my pocket. Why?” He was reaching for it even as he asked. He’d put the thing on silent but had forgotten to engage the vibrate capability. Then he realized he had ten missed calls. From Annie’s phone. His big hands—sure enough to set or disarm the most sensitive explosive and tend wounds with utmost care—fumbled the phone.
Harjo snagged it in mid-air before it shattered on the floor. He keyed in voice mail and handed it back. Color drained from Sean’s face before it surged back, leaving him red-faced and angry. Harjo gripped Sean’s arm, keeping him in his chair.
“Talk to me, big man.”
“Annie. She’s…something’s wrong.”
“The baby?”
“I-I don’t know.” Sean tried to dial his phone, but once more, his fingers turned into uncooperative links of sausage.
Harjo glanced at his text messages again. “Breathe, Sean. Mac and Hannah are headed to West Virginia. The midwife is with Annie. She’s fine.”
Sean had to clear his throat—twice—before he could speak. “I have to talk to her, Harjo. I have to hear her voice.”
“Give me the phone, Sean.”
He handed it over without protest, staring at his hands unable to comprehend why he couldn’t make them work, why he couldn’t even feel them. The ringing buzz in his ears blocked out the sound of Harjo’s voice even though the other man’s lips were moving.
“Breathe, Sean. Breathe. Here. Talk to Annie.”
He fumbled the phone—again—and cursed under his breath. The first words out of his mouth were, “I’m sorry, baby. I’m coming home.”
“Sean?” The sounds of panting followed quickly on the heels of her saying his name.
“Daddy?”
“Cody? Are you okay? Is Mom okay?”
“I’m scared, Daddy. We were at the store. There was…stuff. Wet stuff. Coming from Mommy.”
His heart seized. Blood? Had Annie hemorrhaged? It happened far too often in Wolf pregnancies, even when the child was female. Even in the last stages of the pregnancy. “It’s okay, little man. Just hang in there. I’m on my way home.” He heard a mumbled conversation in the background and then a woman’s voice resonated in his ear.
“Yore mate’s gonna be fine, Wolf. Her water broke, that’s all. Josiah sent his grandson after me.”
“Granny Mae?”
“Who else would be talkin’ to you, boy?”
“Tell Annie…tell Annie I’m on my way. And tell her—”
“She knows you love her, ya damn fool. Now hang up the phone and get here. Yore young’un ain’t gonna wait forever to make her entrance.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m coming.” He cut the connection and pushed back from the table just as the waitress arrived with their food. After a short tussle with Harjo, he agreed to eat, devouring the burger in three bites and the fries in five more.
Harjo was on the phone while Sean shoveled food into his mouth. He was chewing the last of the fries when his former commanding officer hung up from his call. “You aren’t driving.”
“What the hell, Harjo!”
“Just listen a minute. You’re at least four hours away from Blaidd’s Gap, even driving the way you want to. I want you there safe and in one piece, and with no felony police stops.”
“What? You’re going to drive me? Not hardly, Harjo. Somebody needs to follow those scumfuckers.”
“You wouldn’t let me drive anyway. No, I got you a ride—” Harjo held up his hand to stop Sean from speaking. “I called in a favor from a buddy. There’s a Maryland National Guard Blackhawk unit doing a combined training exercise with units from Virginia and West Virginia. You have thirty minutes to get to the airfield. They’ll chopper you in and you can rappel down. You’ll be home in less than two hours.”
Stunned, Sean could only nod. When he finally spoke, the words tumbled out. “You be careful, Harjo. We know these guys don’t mess around. You don’t have anybody watching your back.”
“I’ll be fine. Now get home pronto. And have Hannah call Amy. She’ll want to know what’s going on.”
“Roger that.” The two men exchanged an awkward hug before Sean pulled two crumpled twenty dollar bills out of his pocket and tossed them on the table.
Just over an hour later, with the help of a tail wind, Sean was peering out the open door of the Blackhawk helicopter, watching the tops of the Cumberland Mountains zip past. The pilot expertly wove around and between the peaks. A voice ghosted through his headset. “ETA ten. Get ready to hook up.”
Sean grinned like an ape on a sugar high. “Roger that, sir.”
He leaned over and snagged the coil of nylon rope stowed beneath the seat with one end attached to a ring welded onto the deck of the chopper. He stood up, checked the harness he wore and then wove one end of the rope through the heavy-duty carabiner on the front of the harness.
The four choppers in the formation came in low and hot. The Blackhawk carrying Sean banked and dropped almost straight down. The new trainee sharing the bench seat with him turned a little green around the gills. He patted the kid’s knee as the chopper’s platform evened out. “You’ll be fine by the time you get back to Baltimore, son,” Sean assured.
“Standby for count.” The co-pilot’s voice spoke through the earphones.
“Roger.”
“Five, four…”
Sean stepped out onto the landing skid, the rope loose in his gloved hands.
“Three, two, one. Congrats, Dad.”
Sean laughed as he answered, “Thanks for the lift. Stay safe.” He ripped off the earphones, tossed them to the door gunner along with a sharp salute, leaned back, and let go. He was on the ground in his front yard about ten seconds later. Old Man Cadogan stood on the porch, his hand resting on Cody’s shoulder. He didn’t let go until the rope was retracted and the chopper skimming off across town headed back toward Virginia. Only then did the old grocer let Cody leap down the steps to fly into Sean’s arms.
“No baby yet, Daddy. You got here in time, but Momma’s really mad. She’s saying bad words. Granny Mae made me come outside so I wouldn’t hear.”
Sean hugged the boy tightly and blinked hard. Those were not tears because Wolves damn sure didn’t do that whole girly-girl crying thing. But he was freaking glad to be home. To have his nose pressed against Cody’s neck as he inhaled the little boy’s scent—crayons and apple pie and bubble bath. Carrying Cody up onto the porch, he paused to shake hands with the man standing there.
“Thanks for all your help, Mr. Cadogan.”
The old man chuckled, the sound like dry leaves rattling on a branch. “You probably want to stay out here with us, son. Granny Mae is none too happy with you right now. And your little mate? She’s not happy about anything at all.”
Sean ducked his head as he set Cody down. “Yeah, Annie has a bit of a temper. I’d best get in there and take my lumps.” He glanced down at the little boy leaning against his hip.
“Maybe Cody ’n me’ll walk down to the drugstore for ice cream. Would you like t’meander that way with me, young ’un?”
Cody nodded enthusiastically but glanced up at Sean. “Is it okay, Daddy? I mean Mr. Cadogan isn’t a stranger or anything, right?”
Ruffling his hair, Sean agreed. “Nope. Mr. Cadogan isn’t a stranger, Cody. Go have some ice cream. I’ll go take care of your mom.”