Fated to My Mate's Uncle novel · Chapter 30 of 32

Chapter 30: The Ford Again

"No," Fraser said. "I'll go down. You stay in that bed."

"He didn't ask for you."

"I don't care what he asked for."

I looked down at the baby.

She was asleep with her mouth open, one fist up by her ear.

"He's calling for me," I said. "If I don't go, he'll stand there and call all night. And the whole pack will hear him do it."

Fraser looked at me for a long time.

Then he went and got Patsy.

Patsy took the baby in both arms.

"You've got ten minutes," she said. "You're bleeding and you're stupid and I love you. Ten."

Fraser wrapped me in the quilt, the one with every man's shirt in it and his old brown canvas in the middle.

He put me in his own boots, laced loose.

Then he put his arm around my waist and took most of my weight.

The kid had shoveled the path all the way down to the river in the night.

It was the only reason I could walk it.

The snow had stopped.

The sky had cleared to a hard pale blue, and the cold came up off the ground.

The crew stood at the top of the bank in a line.

They didn't say anything when we passed.

They just fell in behind us.

The ford was half frozen.

White ice along both edges. Black water running fast down the middle.

On the far bank, the pack side, wolves stood in the cottonwoods.

Dozens of them.

They'd come down after the howl at dawn, and stayed when they heard Gregor shouting.

I saw the eldest elder in a red wool hat.

I saw the volunteer chief, and the waitress, and the old man who'd spat on the floor in July.

They'd come to watch.

Gregor stood on the gravel at the water's edge on our side.

I almost didn't know him.

He'd lost thirty pounds.

His beard had come in rough and pale. His cheekbones stood out.

He wore the coat somebody had thrown over him in the hall, with a feed sack tied around his shoulders for warmth.

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