Page 111 of One Last Chance

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“He’s a fighter; that’s for sure.” Moose stood next to the plastic bassinet, cradling little Chase Kingston, with his brown eyes and dark tufts of hair, cooing up at him, and wow, he might even tear up. “Sheesh, he’s cute.”

“Just like his dad,” Dodge said, standing near Echo, but close enough to catch his son if Moose should drop the ball there.

Not likely.

Moose had enough regrets.

“You doin’ okay, Echo?” He glanced up at her. She looked whipped, pale and fading into the pillows and blankets, her eyes bloodshot. An IV of morphine and fluids ran into her veins, and an oxygen cannula boosted her stats.

Moose had heard the story from Dodge—the emergency C-section that’d nearly happened in the hallway, and how Dodge might have lost both of them if Effie hadn’t once been chief of OB here at Alaska Regional.

As it was, Echo had had a brutal C-section, barely going under before they cut Chase out, and even then, the kid had been in pediatric ICU for the last twelve hours.

But he seemed fine now, robust and crying. “Is he . . .”

“Probably. Echo fed him about twenty minutes ago.”

“Back to Dad you go, big guy,” Moose said and handed him into Dodge’s arms.

Moose walked over to the window, staring out. The night had started to flood into the valley, shadows hovering like a haze over the city. He sighed.

“You all right, Moose? I sort of thought you’d be heading back to Copper Mountain by now.”

“I had some things to take care of.”

Things like trying—vainly—to wheedle Tillie’s address out of the diner’s day manager, who’d been less menacing than the night cook but just as unhelpful. He’d left feeling like some kind of stalker.

He’d even called Dawson, asking the Anchorage police detective for help. But what was family for? He pulled out his phone.Shoot. Still nothing.

Pocketing it, he turned to Dodge, who was just finishing changing Chase. The little guy’s arms and legs sprang out, and he wiggled, squeaking, then mewing in protest.

“I don’t blame you, kiddo. It’s cold without pants.”

Dodge finished reswaddling him, then tucked him against himself, rocking his son.

Okay, maybe Moose should loosen his hold on bachelorhood. He wouldn’t mind having a kid. Although babies seemed like a lot of work.

“Family heading this way?” he asked Dodge.

“I think Colt and Tae might be coming up from Florida. Ranger and Noemi are in Minneapolis, so I don’t know. Oh, when you get back, can you check in on my dad? He’s pretty capable, but his eyesight isn’t super.”

“Absolutely. Do you want me to fly the Otter up or take my truck?”

Dodge glanced at Echo.

“We’ll drive, thank you,” she said. “I’m done with airplanes for a while.”

“What? I’m a fabulous pilot.”

“I think it was more about the entire experience,” Dodge said, glancing down at Echo. “Something about trying not to give birth in a plane.”

“I hear that’s overrated.”

“And messy—trust me on that,” Dodge said.

Moose held up a hand. “I believe you. All right. I’ll leave the keys at the Tooth. You can drive my truck up when you get discharged . . .”

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