Chapter 3
Eli
Ihate it when my little girl is sick.
“I know, Mom, I hear you. I’ll call you as soon as I know something,” I say as I shift my nine-year-old daughter in my arms. Her whimper makes me hurt, and I worry that my fears are right this time.
“You better. That’s my only grandbaby you’re holding, and she hasn’t been well for days now.”
“I know, Mom,” I say as I look up when someone else’s name is called. “You have my word that I’ll keep you and Dad updated. But I have to go, I need to call—”
“We’ll call Tracy’s parents and let them know what’s going on,” Mom says.
Sometimes, just the mention of my late Omega makes my heart sink. “No, I’ll call them. We’ve got a few people in line ahead of us at the clinic still.”
“Well, you demand that Dr. Quinn see you now. You have an early-emerging Omega on your hands. That takes priority.”
I draw in a deep breath so that I don’t lose my cool. “I will, Mom, but that still requires me to get off the phone.”
“Okay. Call back soon.”
“I will as soon as I know something.”
I hang up the phone with my parents and dial my daughter’s other set of grandparents. If there was one thing that losing my Omega in childbirth didn’t prepare me for, it was how much it would ache to talk with her parents.
Of course, I’m thrilled that both sets of Amber’s grandparents are active and in her life. It’s just…
It’s just the nature of things, I suppose.
“Come on, pick up,” I murmur before the voicemail kicks on.
“Hiiii! This is the cell of Mary Beth Lancaster. We can’t come to the phone right now, but if you leave your name, number, and a brief message, we’ll get back to you as soon as we can. Talk soon!”
The voice mailbox beeps, and I clear my throat.
“Hey, Mary Beth. It’s me. I wanted to let you know that I’m in Dr. Quinn’s office with Amber.
It’s nothing bad, she’s just been feeling under the weather the last few days, so we’re here to run some tests and get some answers.
I’ll call back when I have more to tell. ”
Just as I hang up the phone, the door to the clinic bursts open. Walker Boone, of all people, strides into the office like he owns it, and he’s got someone cradled in his arms. Knox Rylan, one of the handymen in town, is right on his heels carrying… a light pink purse with a bow on it.
What?
My brow furrows as I watch them storm up to the front desk. Walker’s voice is a rumble as he speaks. I don’t know why I’m so interested, but when the woman in his arms whimpers, I see the woman behind the front desk stand.
Before taking them right back.
Oh, absolutely not.
“Hey,” I say as I stand with my daughter in my arms. “My daughter and I have been waiting—”
“It’ll be just a few more minutes, Mr. Black,” the woman says as the entry door is buzzed open.
I watch Walker and Knox disappear with that woman as I storm up to the front desk. “I’ve been waiting to see Dr. Quinn for almost half an hour. My daughter is—”
She cuts me off again. “You’ve got one more person in line at the clinic in front of you, and then—”
My voice lowers. “I’ve been waiting long enough. If they can storm in and go right back, then you can take me. My daughter is presenting early with her Omega status. She needs a doctor, and now. Buzz me back.”
The woman blinks at me.
“Now,” I demand.
She sighs heavily, but when I hear the door buzz open, I urge my daughter to lie against my shoulder. I band my arm around her back as she clings to me, her little fists balled up in my shirt.
“I’m tired, Daddy,” she whimpers.
“I know, princess,” I whisper, nodding my thanks to the woman behind the counter. I reach out with my other arm and yank the door open just in time to see Knox disappear around a corner. “We’re almost to the doctor, okay? We’ll get you something to help you feel better.”
As I turn the corner, I see Dr. Quinn ushering the three of them into a room. He looks down the hallway at me, his glasses slid down the bridge of his nose, and I start my walk toward him.
But all he does is point back to the waiting room. “Sit and wait. We’ll get to once—”
“No,” I say as I march right up to him. “Now, I’m not sure if they have an appointment or anything like that, but I’ve never known this clinic to take people back this quickly, even with an appointment.”
“Mr. Black, if you can just—”
I shake my head. “I’ve been waiting for my appointment for half an hour. It was supposed to start fifteen minutes ago. I know what’s going on with my daughter, but I need it tested and logged.”
Dr. Quinn crooks an eyebrow as a whimper sounds from the patient room. “And what is it you think is wrong with Amber, Mr. Black?”
“She’s presenting early as an Omega.”
That stops him in his tracks. My daughter whines against my shoulder, and I can feel the heating of her skin as her instincts rage through her body.
I can only imagine how scared she is right now. Omegas don’t usually present until somewhere in their teenage years. Dr. Quinn walks over to my shoulder where she rests. He reaches toward her neck and places two fingers against her pulse while looking at his watch.
“Sit her up for a moment,” he says.
“Come on, princess,” I whisper as I shift her. She gives me a tepid little harumph, and I have to bury the smile on my face. If I wasn’t so worried about her, the sound would be kind of cute. “Dr. Quinn just wants to check something.”
“Hello there, Miss Amber,” Dr. Quinn says as he presses the back of his hand to her forehead. “How are you feeling today?”
“Doc!” Walker bellows from the room.
“You better hold on for a moment!” I yell back at him.
“Oooouch,” Amber whimpers out.
I press a kiss to her temple. “I’m sorry, princess. Just a bit longer.”
“Doc,” Knox says as he pokes his head out of the room, “she’s getting worse.”
Dr. Quinn sighs as he pulls his hands away from my daughter. “Spring has sprung, I suppose.”
“So?” I ask. “What can we do?”
Dr. Quinn points to a chair by the room filled with blood pressure cuffs and a weight stand. “Sit in that chair. I need her vitals, but I need to tend to others first.”
I sigh. “But—”
Dr. Quinn shoots me a look. “You can sit there, or you can sit in the waiting room. But you have to sit until I can put out all of the fires in this office one at a time.”
“This is a fire, Dr. Quinn.”
He sighs and places his hand on my shoulder. “Yes, more than likely, Amber is emerging early. But she’s not in distress and she’s not in any pain that isn’t normal for this type of development. You will be seen next; you have my word.”
I grind my teeth together. “Thank you, Doctor.”
He nods and points to the chair. “Ten minutes, tops.”
“Come on, princess,” I whisper as I make my way to the chair. “Just a little bit longer.”
My phone buzzes in my pocket and I manage to wiggle it out. My daughter clings to me, and I can smell the fear pouring from her in waves. But there’s another scent in there that I don’t recognize. Something like… cinnamon and nutmeg.
My nose lifts as my head tilts back, trying to get away from my daughter’s emerging scent long enough to enjoy the one creeping down the hallway toward us.
It’s actually kind of nice.
I look down at my phone, and I see Tracy’s parents calling. I decide to let the phone ring to voicemail. I’ve only got one bar of service back here in Dr. Quinn’s office, anyway. The phone call won’t do much if all we’re doing is yelling “can you hear me?” at each other.
“Daddy,” Amber whimpers.
“It’s gonna be okay,” I whisper as I rub my daughter’s back with my hand. “Dr. Quinn will tell us what to do next.”
This is one of those moments where I wonder if her mother would have done things better than me. Would she have known what was happening before I did? Would she have had tips and tricks to help with Amber’s aches and pains?
I lean back against the chair, rocking my nine-year-old daughter, wondering where in the world the time went.
When did she grow up? How have we been without her mother for so long?
“You have to lay still so Dr. Quinn can examine you,” Walker says.
“It’s okay, it’s not going to hurt,” Knox says.
My attention pulls to the patient room where the door is cracked open. Another waft of that amazing cinnamon roll smell barrels toward me, and the pull tugs me off my feet.
I shift Amber in my arms, and while her whimper usually stops me in my tracks, the scent wafting through that door is overpowering. I need more of it.
Hot cinnamon rolls straight out of the oven, with a twinge of icing sweetness that makes my mouth water.
Oh, no.
I know what this is.
“How long have you been on heat suppressants?” I hear Dr. Quinn ask.
“Daddy?” Amber whimpers softly.
“Shh,” I say, rubbing my hand up and down her back. “I’ve got you, princess.”
“Did you say, ‘three years’?” Knox asks.
“The orgasm I gave her didn’t work, Doc,” Walker says, and everything inside of me ignites into flames. “It should have settled her preheat so that she could at least get home safely from the festival. But it only made her worse.”
Worse?
How could an orgasm during preheat make an Omega worse?
“Not worse,” the woman inside of the patient room groans out. “Just need my nest.”
“Did you miss taking one of your suppressants?” Dr. Quinn asks.
“No,” the woman whimpers.
“Who is your prescribing doctor?”
There’s silence on the other end of that question, and I don’t like that.
“Lia,” Walker says, “who prescribes your suppressants?”
“They aren’t prescription,” she says.
I hear Knox groan before Dr. Quinn pipes up. “All right, here’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to prescribe you another suppressant. Don’t take one today, but tomorrow—”
Amber’s foot twitches, kicking against the cracked door, and it slowly eases open. All eyes turn to face us, and I hold my breath.
Walker’s staring at me with that no-nonsense look of his that makes everyone step out of the way.
Knox is looking at me with a mound of worry behind his eyes.
Dr. Quinn is staring over the top edge of his glasses at me, as if he’s watching some sort of soap opera unfold, of which he completely disapproves.
Amber whines again in my arms.
“Emerging early?” the woman laying on the exam table croaks out.
My daughter groans in pain, and I rock her softly. “We think so.”
“How old?”
Walker turns back to her. “You need to rest if you’re going to get home safely. You don’t have to—”
“Move, please,” she says.
I watch as Walker Boone—the man who listens to no one—does exactly what she asks.
I lay my eyes upon the Omega on the exam table, her long, straight blonde hair splayed out over the cushion.
Her bright green eyes remind me of the budding leaves of springtime, and that mouth-watering scent of cinnamon rolls fresh out of the oven fills my lungs.
I feel Amber relax a bit in my arms.
“What’s your name?” Lia asks.
“Eli,” I say as I cradle my daughter. “Eli Black. This is my daughter, Amber.”
“I’m Lia.” She nods toward my little girl in my arms. “How old is she?”
“Nine.”
“Mmm.” She nods her head. “I was just shy of eleven when I presented. Honey popsicles and warm lavender baths for the little one. It’ll help with the aches and pains.”
Amber snuggles tightly against me, and I strengthen my hold on her. “What do the honey popsicles do?”
Lia smiles, and it damn near knocks me off my feet. “They taste good. Go get some popsicle molds and warm equal parts honey and water together on a stovetop. Stir until it’s all a liquid, pour it into the molds, and pop them in the freezer.”
I feel my daughter sweating in my arms. “Thank you. I’ll grab molds right after our appointment.”
But even though I should go sit back down, even though I know I’m barging into a doctor’s appointment that isn’t mine to behold, I can’t find the strength to move. I just stand there, staring at the Omega lying there on Dr. Quinn’s exam table.
While I process the fact that her scent calls me to me in a way I haven’t experienced since first meeting Amber’s mother.