Page 112 of Breeding Clinic

“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 footrub. 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.”

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