I pull over in front of the other woman and kill the engine of my truck. Without the rumble, I can hear her struggling vehicle. It’s how I know she isn’t local: nothing about her car looks ready for a Willow Ridge snowstorm.
Getting out of the truck, the woman rushes to meet me. “You wouldn’t happen to have service, would you?” she asks.
Closing the door, I shake my head. “What’s wrong?”
The woman huffs, crossing her arms as she looks over her shoulder. “I think something blew. There’s oil all over the hood, and I can’t find the cap for it. Ijustgot it serviced.” Her eyes, deep brown, roll as they meet mine. “But it’s fine. Whatever. Do you know Hunter Gates?”
I stiffen but nod once. “Yeah. Lives on the mountain. Manages the mill.”
“And is helping me, supposedly.” She releases a breath, shivering. “You have no way of reaching him?”
I did, but it was at the cabin, but even then, I wasn’t sure of his number. He and I were acquaintances at best, knowing each other because we volunteered together. I mostly knew him through Noah, who used to be his cadet at the firehouse.
“I’m sorry,” I murmur, looking around. Further away, I spot Daisy’s Bar, a local hub with its lights on. If there’s one place that’ll always have power and someone inside, it’s there. “I’ll drive you further up to the bar. If he’s coming to get you, then he’ll know to find you in there.”
The woman glances around me at the building and sighs. “Better than waiting out here, I guess,” she says with a grim smile. “Thank you.”
I nod once, unable to ignore the pressure anymore. It feels as though my chest is going to explode. I’ve never felt anxiety like this, and to think it’s because I left Skye alone…
My jaw clenches as I help the woman into my truck. Jumping in without a word, I crank the heat and pull away.
“I’m Sylvie,” she says quietly as I pull away from her SUV. “Sylvie Madden.”
I glance over at her, the name tickling at something. But I can’t place how I know it. “Sawyer.”
“Well, thank you for the rescue, Sawyer,” she says with a smile. “Hopefully, I’ll see you around for the firehouse fundraiser.”
I don’t have time to respond as I pull into the bar. As soon as the truck stops, she jumps out, giving me a small wave.
I just shake my head and get the hell out of there.
I have a girl to see, and I’m done making her wait.
As I pullinto the cabin, the feeling grows worse. I’m out of the truck before I can get Skye’s bag from the back, rushing up the porch and bursting through the front door, hands trembling.
At first, it doesn’t look like the cabin has been touched. The dishes are still in the drying rack from breakfast. All the blankets from my nights on the sofa are neatly folded over the arm, with the pillows strategically placed for Skye’s comfort.
But there is no Skye.
My heart skips before crashing painfully into my ribs as I leave the front door open. The fire’s gone down, flames small and licking tiredly at what remains of the logs. Even though I’m usually the one to feed the fire, she knows how to stoke it. On the rare occasions I forget, I usually find her doing it herself. She’s no damsel in distress, and I know she can take care of herself.
But right now, I can’t get my brain to compute. Her purse is still where she left it this morning, coat hanging by the door.
I check the bedroom first, but I don’t find her within. Not in the mountain of pillows that help her sleep. Not among the clothes she’s been rotating through since coming here. Not at the window looking over the small smattering of snow-covered trees and the remnants of an outdoor seating area someone erected for the short-term lodgers.
Over the pounding of my heart, I hear water. I try to calm my breathing and racing heart just enough to focus.
The shower.
I don’t even think beyond that. The tightness is still a force in my chest. All I remember is that single wince this morning. The flash of pain in her eyes.
The bathroom door is unlocked, allowing me in. What I find has me stopping completely.
Skye, hands braced on the shower wall while water beats down on her lower back, head bowed as she breathes through what I can only assume are contractions.
Contractions.
She’s in labour.
