Page 123 of Billionaire Lumberjack's Bargain

A blanket of snow several inches thick now covers the ground, helping calm the flames that leaped high into the sky for several hours after we got Camille back into the house and upstairs.

“I still think we should have tried to make it down the mountain to the clinic…”

Pops shakes his head. “You know you never would’ve made it down the road with it like this even if you left right away. It certainly isn’t happening now. Be realistic, Dalton.”

Shit.

He’s probably right.

And based on the most recent weather report I found on the radio, we’re expecting at least half a foot of snow before midnight, which means it’s going to be coming down hard and fast the rest of the night.

I’d much rather have her give birth here than stuck in my truck on the winding, narrow, gravel, slick road down to James Creek.

“Shit, shit, shit…”

I fist my hands and press them against the cold glass, dropping my forehead to it, hoping it might cool my heated skin.

“Dalton…”

Camille’s voice draws me out of my panic spiral and back to the bed.

I lower myself onto the mattress on the opposite side from Pops and pull her hand into mine.

She squeezes it. “I gave birth to Davey up here; I’ll beokay.”

Every time she reminds me of that, it’s meant to ease my fears, but all I can think about are the hundred different complications that could crop up that could put her life or the baby’s at risk. We would have no way to get them help. Even if we trust the sheriff right now, the chopper couldn’t get up here in a storm like this.

We’re completely stranded until the weather improves.

And I have never felt more helpless in my entire life.

I clench my jaw, wanting to argue about all the things I keep obsessing over, but I know it’s pointless.

Camille is strong.

She’s done this before.

If anyone knows the medical risks, it’sher.

And she chose to have Davey up here with only Dave to help her, even with all her knowledge and training.

Trust her…

“Besides, Pops is right.” She rubs her free hand over her stomach. “The baby has dropped, and my contractions are coming fast. Far faster than they did with Davey. That sometimes happens with a second pregnancy. Things move along quicker. We wouldn’t make it to town. We wouldn’t have made it even if we’d left two hours ago when my water broke. I’ve helped deliver dozens of babies in the ER when there wasn’t time to get them to L&D, and Dave and I did it on our own…”

“But I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing”—I point to Pops—“and he sure as shit doesn’t, either.”

Pops gives me a dirty look. “You know how many cows and horses I helped give birth beforeyouwere even born, son?”

Camille scowls at him. “Are you comparing me to livestock?”

A laugh bursts from deep in my chest, joined quickly by her own and Pops huffing. The moment of levity releases a bit of tension from the room, but she still clutches my hand tightly as another contraction hits her.

She grits her teeth, and I let her crush my fingers, wishing I could absorb some of the pain she must be in.

Seeing her like this and being unable to do anything to help must be what she felt like standing outside that barn, knowing Davey was inside.

My lungs still burn from all the smoke I inhaled, and even after a quick shower, the smell permeates the air, a lingering reminder of almost losing him.

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