Page 104 of Cold as Hell

No, it’s not a piece of cake. But it’s easier than I expected, and I presume that’s the endorphin rush from escaping Jerome, coupled with the relief of having both Dalton and Anders here. I’m not alone, and the baby is in position, and I can do this. I can really do this.

There’s a lot of screaming. Anders helps me time the pushes and reminds me to use my abs to push out and away. Dalton just holds me and tells me how much he loves me and that it’ll all be over soon. That last part is what I really want to hear at thismoment. It will be over soon. I can feel that. The baby is right there, and I just need to push harder and—

“We have a head!” Anders says. “Just a little more and… She’s out!”

“Clear her airways,” I croak. “You need to—”

“Got it. April made us all go through the basics last month, remember? Cut the cord. Clear her—”

The baby’s howl swallows his last words, and then Dalton’s helping me to the ground, atop my coat, as Anders holds out a tiny screaming baby with a shock of black hair.

“A girl,” I say. “It’s a girl.”

“And I will not say I told you so,” Dalton says.

My eyes fill as I turn to him, and his arms go around me and he hugs us both, as tight as he can.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

This is not how I expected our baby to be born. At least it’ll make a good story, although we’ll keep out the serial-killer part until she’s older. Much older.

Dalton and Anders wrap me and the baby, and then Dalton insists on carrying us back to town.

“I was carrying them both upstairs when she was pregnant,” he says when Anders hesitates. “Only difference now is that the baby is on the outside. Oh, and they’re a little lighter, without all that…” He waves a hand back at the placenta and fluids on the snow. “Goop.”

“You have such a way with words,” I say.

“I have an excellent way with words,” he says. “And I may have learned a few new ones today, while you were giving birth.”

He adjusts me in his arms as he walks, and I check on the baby, sound asleep again and swaddled in Dalton’s sweater.

“Speaking of words,” Anders calls from behind us. “Do we have a name, now that you’ve met her?”

“Eric Junior,” Dalton calls back.

Anders laughs. “I think that should beCaseyJunior.”

“What?” Dalton glances over his shoulder. “That’s a little sexist, isn’t it?”

“We’ll discuss names,” I say. “No rush.” I lean back into Dalton’s arms as they tighten around me. “No rush at all.”

It’s such a peaceful walk back that I almost fall asleep, between the slumbering baby in my arms and the rhythm of Dalton’s gait. He says something about Jacob and Storm being back in town and hearing my screams, but I barely register his words. Then we reach the clinic, and all hell breaks loose.

Okay, that’s an exaggeration. But after that peaceful wilderness walk, it feels as if I’m plunged into the maelstrom. That maelstrom being my big sister.

Baby? Why is there a baby? Why didn’t someone come for me? No one said she was having the baby? Give her to me. No, give them both to me. Did Casey pass the placenta? Is she bleeding? Why is the baby sleeping? Has she woken yet? Have you checked her breathing?Isshe breathing?

The fact that April can think, for one second, that we’d hike back without checking that the baby was breathing is a testament to her worry. Also, a bit insulting to all of us, but I’ll let that pass.

Then she finds out about me being held captive by Jerome, and I realize it’s probably a good time to mention that my foot went through the ice—which I hadn’t told Dalton or Anders, being a little busy, you know, giving birth.

Cue a freak-out from everyone, as April and Anders both check my leg. It’s fine. It really was a quick plunge, with my boot on, that boot having been removed shortly after by Jerome. The bigger issue would have been me walking around withoutboots and sweatpants, but labor seems to have kept my body warm enough for that.

It’s then—in testament to my own muddled mind—that I finally remember Yolanda, who went a lot longer half dressed. She’s in the next room, sleeping, and April says that’s what she needs. Sleep, lots of sleep. She’ll need plenty of recuperation time—her heart went through a trauma—but the only real worry April has is those couple of toes that seem frostbitten.

As for the baby and me, we’re fine. The pregnancy may have been rough, but the birth process went as designed. Still incredibly painful and not something I want to do again anytime soon. Really, like Nicole said, it is a wonder anyone has more than one child. Of course, it might be slightly easier in a hospital, with medical professionals and painkillers, instead of on a frozen lake fighting off a serial killer.

During the examination and discussion, my adrenaline kicks in again, and I’m wide awake, especially when April examines the baby and starts making little noises of dissatisfaction.

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