Page 111 of Harper

I’m starting to feel a little terrified.

But I’m desperate that she doesn’t know.

Stay calm, Joe. Stay calm.

“Sure,” I say. “I remember. And the medevac team will know how. And besides, you’re not even having contractions yet. It can be a while between water breaking and going into labor.”

She nods, her head bouncing quickly, her big, blue eyes wide.

“I’m scared, Joe.”

Her voice is small and weak, like she’s about to cry.

I hold her close, rubbing her back. “It’s going to be okay, darlin’. It’s going to be okay. I’ll be with you the whole time.You can do this, Harp. You’re so strong. You and Wren are both going to be fine.”

I feel so fucking helpless.

All I can do is reassure her. All I can do is stand by her side and let her know she’s not alone.

“Hey, folks,” says an airport maintenance worker, “flight’s about to land. We’ll get you on board quickly, okay?”

I lean away from my fiancée, putting my hands on her shoulders. “You okay?”

She shakes her head no. “I’m so worried.”

“That’s normal,” I tell her. “But we’ve got this.”

“We do?”

“We do,” I say, as this unexpected certainty overwhelms me.

I remember her in the third grade with blonde pigtails and a wide smile for the new kid. I remember her in sixth grade wearing snow pants and challenging me to a snowball fight. I remember her in sophomore year of high school kissing me behind the bleachers after a cross-country meet. I remember her skinny dipping in Upper Dewey on our summers home from college. I remember her telling me about Wren and then about Raven. And I remember her saying yes when I asked her to marry me.

It’s been a long journey for Harper and me, and it’s not remotely over yet.

“We’ve got this, Harper Stewart,” I say, cupping her face in my hands. “It’s always been you and me. Always will be. As long as we’re together, we’re going to be just fine.”

For the first time since she woke me up this morning, she smiles at me, a sweet serenity overtaking her expression.

“I believe you,” she says softly. “We’ve got this, Joe.”

I take her hand in mine, hoist her bag onto my shoulder, and we walk out to the tarmac to board our flight to Anchorage.

***

Our daughter, Wren Sarah Emily Raven, was born almost exactly three hours after we lifted off from Skagway. At six pounds and eight ounces, Wren was well-developed for a preterm baby, and after a cautionary twenty-four hours in the NICU, she was transferred to the regular maternity ward for the rest of her hospital stay. She has jet-black hair and sky-blue eyes, just like Moriah Raven. We love talking about how—someday, one day, when the time is right—our girls might get to know one another as sisters.

Harper, who was given a tocolytic IV during the medevac flight, never went into labor, thank God, and didn’t require the possible hysterectomy that Dr. Kim had discussed with her. The c-section went smoothly, and the placenta was removed with a D&C procedure that allowed her to keep her uterus.

After six days and five nights in the hospital, Harper and Wren were released, but because of the possible risk to her preemie lungs, we opted to drive home instead of fly. Harper’s dad drove up to collect us in his RV, giving us a comfortable way to travel home and an extra pair of experienced hands along the way.

Speaking of the Stewarts, Gary and the rest of the blonde brigade are ga-ga cuckoo for the newest addition to the Stewart family. When Harper and I visit the campground in Dyea, we barely see our daughter from the time we arrive, until the moment we buckle her in for the ride back to Skagway. There’s always a great-grandparent, grandparent, aunt, or uncle waiting for a turn to hold her. Our little girl is surrounded by love.

As I hoped and expected, Sandra started coming around the second she laid eyes on Wren. She and Harper aren’t besties yet, but they are civil to one another, which isn’t a bad start. One day, perhaps they will even be friends.

Six months to the day after the birth of our daughter, I married my childhood sweetheart, the mother of my children,and my forever love, Harper Stewart, in the sanctuary of the First Presbyterian Church.

During his short sermon, Pastor Mac spoke of ravens, sharing that they are one of few species that mate for life. Once they choose each other, they celebrate with “joy flights,” wingtip to wingtip, soaring through the sky, or hooking their claws one to another to somersault through the air. They work hard on their relationships, bringing one another food gifts, preening, and grooming each other, and offering comforting warbles close to one another’s ears.

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