Chapter 9: The Gate Is Right There

The pain came at midnight, and it was not a back ache.

It wrapped around my belly from both sides and squeezed until I could not breathe.

I made a sound I had never made before, and I grabbed the edge of the bed.

"Hattie," I said.

She was on the couch, and she was awake before I finished.

"How far apart?"

"I don't know. Hattie, it's early. It's too early."

"Breathe," she said. "Count with me."

I tried, but the second contraction hit before I could draw another breath.

Out in the dark, the gate banged.

Boots hit the porch.

I heard the front door open, and I heard Hattie yell, "Alpha, no!" and then I heard him in the bedroom doorway.

He had no color left in his face.

His grey arm hung at his side, and he was holding the frame with the other one.

"I heard her," he said. "Is it the baby?"

"You're over the threshold," I said, through my teeth.

"I know."

"You swore."

"I know," Cade said. "Throw me out after."

I did not have the breath to argue.

Hattie put both hands on my belly and pressed, and her expression shifted from tight fear to relief, and then to fury.

"It's false," she said. "It's a false labor. A bad one, but it's false."

"Are you sure?" Cade said.

"I'm a nurse, you idiot. The baby's head hasn't dropped. Her body's practicing."

She stood up.

"Breathe through the next one and it should settle," she said. "I need the monitor from the clinic. I'll be five minutes."

"Don't leave her alone."

"She's not alone," Hattie said coldly. "She's got you. Be useful."

She was gone, and the front door banged, and then the house was very quiet.