I ran.
The coat came off as I crossed the lot. I threw it onto the passenger seat, slid behind the wheel, and had the engine running before the door fully closed.
The roads were slick with early snow—that thin, treacherous layer of ice that caught you by surprise. I drove too fast. Didn’t care. The speedometer crept past seventy on the straightaways, the tires fighting for grip on every curve.
Hold on. I’m coming. Just hold on.
The mountains rose on either side of the road. Pines heavy with snow.
The world was quiet and white.
Completely indifferent to what was happening in my chest.
I thought about my father.
I’ll be back before lunch. Save me some cake.
He hadn’t been back before lunch.
He’d chosen duty. Every time. Without hesitation. Without asking if there was another way. And I’d spent fifteen years wondering if I’d make the same choice when my moment came.
I pressed the accelerator harder.
The B&B appeared around the final bend—white Victorian, wraparound porch, one light on in the kitchen.
No ambulance in the drive.
I was out of the truck before the engine stopped running. Across the yard in long strides, up the porch steps two at a time. The front door was unlocked. I shoved it open.
Grace was in the living room, leaning against the couch. One hand braced on the arm, the other pressed to her belly. Her face was pale, hair plastered to her forehead with sweat. Her whole body was rigid with concentration.
The contraction passed. She looked up.
The relief in her eyes almost undid me.
“I’m here,” I said.
I crossed the room in three strides and dropped to my knees beside the couch. My hands found her face, her shoulders, her belly—checking her like I couldn’t quite believe she was real.
“I’m here. I’ve got you.”
She laughed—or cried. Some sound that was both. Her hand gripped my arm hard enough to bruise.
“The fire?—”
“Cal pulled me off.” My voice came out rough. Scraped raw. “Said you called. Said the baby was coming.” My hands were shaking against her face. I couldn’t stop them. “I broke about fifteen traffic laws getting here. Ran three red lights.”
“There was a family?—”
“The team will take care of them.” I pressed my forehead to hers, breath ragged. “The moment Cal told me, I couldn’t—I just ran. Left my gear, left everything. I couldn’t think about anything except getting to you.”
My hands were still shaking.
I’d walked into burning buildings without flinching. Stayed calm when ceilings collapsed and walls exploded.
But this—Grace in labor, alone, needing me—had undone something I didn’t know could come undone.
“I’m okay,” she said. “We’re okay.”
