Page 6 of Harvest Moon

“I have an idea,” she said, her voice a little bouncier than usual. “I, um... there’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about, and maybe you could help out.”

Me, help her? Well hell, I was already game. I almost jumped straight in and agreed to do anything she wanted from me, but my pride stopped me just shy of it. Instead, I sat up, bouncing on my bed, and asked in a squeak, “What could I help with?”

“Well...” The pause there wasn’t theatrical, like it might have been from one of my high-school friends. Something was actually bothering Claudia. Across the line, I heard movement, and then the quiet sound of a door closing. When she came back, Claudia’s voice was a whisper. “I’m pregnant.”

Again, habit demanded a squeal and chipper congratulations and a barrage of nosy questions about how and when and where and how hot her husband was in bed, but I held back. Claudia and I weren’t high-school kids, and my instinct was telling me this was deeper than her wanting to celebrate something amazing happening in her life.

She had waited until after thirty to have a baby for a reason, after all. I held my breath and waited.

“And I think I might have it.” She gave a little sniffle, and her voice crept into an even quieter whisper before she added, “The Condition.”

“Oh no, Claud,” I whispered back before even considering. “But you’re...” She was what? Larger than life in my head? Too important to me to get sick? That wasn’t how it worked.

Omegas, particularly pregnant ones, were in constant danger of getting sick. Some got better, some didn’t. Some lost their babies and then got better. And because werewolves were on the rare side—and well, werewolves—the government had done fuck all to try to find the cure. They didn’t like that we were dying, but it was a mild inconvenience, not a crisis. Not like when old white human men couldn’t get erections.

No, it wasn’t time for me to be bitter and angry and rage about the unfairness of everything. Claudia didn’t need a melodramatic kid. She needed someone who understood her fear to have her back. “What makes you think it’s that?”

She took a couple of deep breaths before answering. “Paranoia, I hope, but something’s not right. I’m tired all the time, like I could sleep all day. I fell asleep at the dinner table last night. I’m hardly ever hungry, and when I do eat, I’m miserable afterward. Birch thinks it’s just because I’ve been eating junk food, and I mean, he’s not wrong. I’ve been craving those disgusting mass-produced, cream-filled cakes.”

I couldn’t help making a face at that. At my mother’s most annoyed, she’d never let her family eat that kind of crap. For my entire childhood, most of our food had come from Ridge’s family’s farm.

Sure, I’d had one of those cakes once. It has been disgusting and awesome at the same time, and then I’d gotten sick after, so I hadn’t gone back for seconds. But well, I’d also heard pregnant bodies craved things, so that was probably working against her.

“The worst part is that I’m hardly doing my job,” she said, and the rhythmic thumping had to be her banging her head against something. “The pack is going through so much lately, and Linden’s a great alpha, but we can’t afford to have me out of commission for months.”

She deftly avoided the point that if she did have the Condition, it could be a lot longer than six months. It could be forever, even if she survived.

I didn’t think she’d brought it up just to distract me from my own problems, but hell, if she had, well done. My melodramatic childish complaint about Ridge not loving me felt pale and lifeless next to “I might die because I’m pregnant.”

That was when something occurred to me. “What if I came out and helped?”

She sighed, and for a second, I was worried I’d overstepped and offended her, but there was a lightness in her voice when she answered, and it hadn’t been there before. “Could you, Alex? I don’t mean to be a pain, but there’s so much to do, and I hate failing everyone—”

“You’re not failing anyone. You’re pregnant, and I hear that’s hard on a body,” I pointed out, hopping off my bed and heading to the closet, phone still pressed to my ear. I had a trunk and an overnight bag.

Hmm...

Both. I’d need both. I was going to be there for months, after all. “Hey, how far along are you?”

“About three months. Maybe a little more. We didn’t tell anyone at first, since, well, you never know.” She lowered her voice again. “This isn’t the first time. The others, they just... didn’t work out.”

The words were flippant, but her tone told me they weren’t. That the feeling wasn’t. My heart fluttered in my chest, thinking about Claudia feeling like she needed to keep that to herself. Like her heartbreak should be locked inside to keep other people from being uncomfortable.

“I’m so sorry, Claudie.” I grabbed my trunk by the handle and pulled it out of the closet. “I’m going to pack my stuff, and um, maybe after work tomorrow, I can convince Dad to drive me over.”

It would be a struggle, since Dad was always exhausted after a full day of work, but neither Mom nor I could drive. There’d never been a point, since we only had one car in the family, and we could barely afford to keep it running, so we weren’t going to drive it anytime we didn’t have to.

My mind shot to Ridge. Maybe he’d drive me over in his truck.

But no. Part of the point of this was to get away, wasn’t it? I’d get to go be useful, do something good for someone I loved, and not be close enough to stare longingly in the direction of Ridge’s family farm. Not close enough to walk out there and throw myself at him, hoping for something that was never going to happen.

On Claudia’s end of the call, a deep voice spoke up. “Hon, why are you sitting on the floor?” Her husband, Birch.

“No reason,” she answered with faux brightness that I could see through even over the phone. There was no way she was fooling him. “I’m just chatting with Alexis. He’s, um, gonna come stay with us for a while. Any way you could go pick him up, maybe?”

“Tonight?” he asked, and I almost swooned. The man was ready to drop everything and rush out to get me because she needed me. That was the kind of love everyone deserved in their life, especially my cousin.

“I haven’t even packed,” I pointed out, before she could answer. “Tomorrow? I can be ready tomorrow evening. Plus I’ve got to tell Mom and Dad.”

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