Putting away groceries was exactly the mindless activity he needed as his head swam in treacherous currents of uncertainty. Of what was right and wrong and fair. Never in his lifetime had he expected to be so affected by a woman, especially not after years with Erin. Lifelong bachelorhood on the homestead had been his destiny until he picked up a sickly looking waif at a gas station in Homer. Now, he was bewitched with thoughts of long nights in her arms, her healing touch mending his soul and restoring his faith in the decency of people again.
"Aanon!" Farrah screamed in such a blood-curdling shriek he froze. "Aanon!"
He dropped the canned goods he'd been stacking and sprinted for the door. Blood and adrenaline pumped his veins, encouraged by panic at the sound of her desperation. Running toward the sound of her screams, he burst around the cattle's shelter to see Farrah pinned against the fence by that black-hearted, psychotic cow, 417. Bruno had latched onto the cow's neck and Luna barked rapidly in her face, but the cow wouldn't be deterred.
Relentlessly, she rammed Farrah, who struggled desperately to protect her stomach from the attack.
"Heyeyeyeyey!" he yelled, grabbing a length of pipe that leaned against the shelter in one smooth motion.
Scaling the fence, he hit the cow across the face with it to shock her. He shoved her head while she was stunned, and she backed off, bellowing. Never turning his back on the slobbering beast, he retreated slowly to the fence, but Farrah had already stumbled out of the enclosure.
Chest heaving, he rounded on Farrah, but she'd crumpled into the snow.
"Something's wrong," she said in horror. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and her eyes were wide and terrified.
"Oh, God," he choked out, falling to his knees beside her.
He placed his hand on the curve of her stomach, and it was like touching a boulder. There was no give to her skin. Desperately he felt all around the swell, but it was seized in a relentless contraction. "Don't move," he said, running for the house. He snatched his keys from the counter and bolted for the truck. The engine turned on the first try, and he spun out in his rush to pull up next to Farrah.
Heaving, he pulled her body from the snow and set her in the seat, then clicked the seat belt into place.
Alarm pumped deeper and darker with every beat of his heart. "It's going to be okay," he chanted as they rode the snowy route to town. He rubbed her knee, as much to comfort himself as her, but she was doubled over with a grimace on her face.
"It's too early," she sobbed.
The dogs chased the truck, but he didn't care if they followed him to town. There had been no time to tie them up and no time to throw them in the back. He didn't care about anything but getting Farrah to Dr. Janson.
Not bothering with a parking spot, Aanon pulled the Chevy right in front of the medical clinic, sliding on the ice as he threw it into park. Around the back, he ran and threw open the passenger side door.
"Dr. Janson!" he yelled as he unbuckled and pulled her from the seat.
One of his nurses, Meryl, stuck her head out the door and gasped. "Bring her in, and I'll page the doctor. He's at the diner."
He explained the attack as Meryl led them into a room and gestured to set her down on the bed. Pressing on her abdomen, she called, "How far along is she?"
"Uhhh, five months I think."
"Ashley! Bring me a bag of magnesium sulfate." Meryl dialed Dr. Janson from a cell phone. "Get over here now," she said into the receiver. "It's Farrah." Hanging up, she asked, "Honey, are you allergic to anything?"
"No," Farrah said weakly. "Not that I know of."
Ashley bustled in and started preparing an IV while Meryl lifted Farrah's shirt to expose her stomach. Deep red spotted her ribcage.
"What's that?" he asked as he pointed with a shaking finger.
"She's already starting to bruise." Velcro ripped as she placed a band across her stomach.
Ashley taped the needle into her arm, then rushed off, only to return a moment later with a machine they hooked to wires that connected to the band on Farrah's stomach.
"You'll have to leave now," Meryl said quietly.
"I can't." His throat threatened to close up, and he swallowed the lump of fear down. "Please, she's-she's mine."
Meryl spun and grabbed his wrists. "Aanon, I get it son, but we need space to work. If we can't get this labor stopped, her baby is in trouble, okay?"
"Everything will be okay," Farrah whispered his own words back as a tear fled the corner of her eye.
He turned and left the room without a backward glance. He couldn't see the pain on her face without it destroying part of him. That single tear of hers would be etched into his memory for the rest of his life. If he lived to be a hundred, he'd think on it every day. It was a tear of despair and acceptance for something completely out of their control.
Dr. Janson rushed past him as he stood stunned in the hallway. The clinic wasn't large, and the entire staff was working on Farrah. He hadn't a guess at how long he stood there, listening to any sound that might hint that she was okay, but barking brought him from his trance. In shock, he stumbled from the clinic to find Luna and Bruno slinking around the truck with their tails tucked. Onlookers were starting to gather. He gave a short whistle as he lowered the tailgate. Bruno hopped in but Luna wasn't big enough, so he lifted her and tied her in. Bruno was trained and wouldn't leave the bed, but the wolf pup was still young and inexperienced.
Ben made his way through the crowd and gripped his shoulder. "What happened?" he asked, gesturing to the Chevy that was hanging halfway in the street.
Overwhelmed, Aanon searched the faces of Cooper Landing, all expectantly staring back at him.
"Farrah's hurt," he muttered low.
Ignoring the chorus of questions, he hopped in the truck and pulled it into a parking spot, then retreated back to the warmth and safety of the clinic waiting room.
Audrey entered first and squeezed his hand as she passed. Then Ben and Old Eddie Cogburn. Burtlebey followed, and the stream of people was never ending, so Aanon escaped to the hallway by her room.
Dr. Janson's shoes squeaked against the sanitary tile floors as he approached.
"How is she?" Aanon asked. Even to himself, his voice sounded frantic.
The doctor's blue eyes held steel reserve and worry. "She's gone into labor, and we're trying everything we can to stop it. She's too early for the baby to be viable if she delivers now."
"What does that mean?"
"What I mean is the baby wouldn't make it this early on. It wouldn't have any lung function. If we can't get the contractions stopped, we'll have to send her to a hospital in Anchorage. They are more equipped to deal with this type of emergency. We've already called about a flight to get her out here."
"Okay, how long would it take to get a plane out here to transport her?"
"Well, the runways are solid ice-"
"Doc," he said, lowering his voice. "Be straight with me. How long?"
"A day, at least."
He leaned back in the chair and looped his fingers behind his head like it would keep all of his shattering pieces together. "She doesn't have that kind of time."
"I'm afraid not. Our best bet is to get the labor stopped. If we can't … " Dr. Janson shrugged and gave a somber shake of his head.
The unspoken words hung in the air, filling up every molecule of space the crowd in the waiting room didn't.
"We'll do everything we can," the doctor promised before leaving him.
Hours ticked by, and the crowd came and went. Eventually the nurse handed him a blanket and pillow, and he'd made his way back to the waiting room. The sun no longer shone through the picture windows, and instead streaks of deep purple night filtered in. Ben and Audrey were the only ones who remained, both quiet in the corner, and he took a seat beside them.
"Anything?" Ben asked.
Aanon shook his head. His eyes followed Mayva through the window as she pulled on the door. A stack of Styrofoam containers were balanced precariously in her arms, and when she saw him, her eyebrows shot up as if she was surprised. "Any news?"
"None," he said dryly. Anger tugged at him as he thought about their encounter earlier in the day. Farrah didn't need people who wished her ill keeping vigil.
"Look," she said, sitting beside him. "I'm really sorry about how I've acted. I was jealous and petty, and you were never mine in the first place to warrant my actions. Farrah's real nice, and I feel awful for what I've done. I hope she comes out of this all right, and I'll give her my apologies myself."